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ohbo-ohno · 2 years ago

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Kinktober Day 31 - Free Use

Poly 141 x Reader - 4.3k (on ao3)

summary: Glimpses into your life as a housewife and free use toy for the 141 post-retirement. (Reader POV, second person)

cw: soft sex, half-drunk sex, light somnophilia, anal sex

note: last kinktober of the month! sorry i got off by a day at the end here, but i hope you guys have enjoyed everything so far :) btw this is less "free use" and more "sex with the 141 while living in domestic bliss"

Your days are filled with sex. Sex with all of your boys, in every position you can think of, in every room of the house they’d bought for the five of you after retiring.

You all split the chores evenly these days. No one does more than they’re more comfortable with, and you’ve all found your stride, something to give you purpose, after the rigidity of the military.

Gaz has taken to bee-keeping. As odd as it sounds, he’s got the patience for it, and he’s quite protective of his bees, even has nearly an entire library of books he’s taught himself with. Price helps him out by selling the honey he harvests, keeping track of his profits and managing the household’s finances.

Ghost hunts, spends his days out finding game to bring home, tracking herds and predators around your property. Johnny does a little of everything - fixes things when they break, chops firewood every morning, helps Simon skin his prey, tries to help Gaz and his bees.

And you take care of the house. You make the meals, clean up after everyone, and find yourself perfectly happy to keep your men fed and warm.

Your other chore is to bend over whenever they want. Well, bend into any position whenever they want, Ghost and Soap tend to enjoy getting a bit more creative. It’s not really much of a chore, considering how eager you are to do it.

It’s a great deal for you. Johnny and Kyle are always eager to get you off, and neither Simon nor Price is stingy with the orgasms these days either. You live your life floating between domestic labor and orgasms - not a bad existence, by your metric. You get to live without a care in the world, four men to take care of and four men to take care of you. It’s like a dream come true.

———————————————————————

You hum to yourself as you dance around the kitchen, wearing nothing but a frilly apron as you wait for your pancakes to cook. The small radio on the dining room table plays music from a local radio station, something cheery to start your day. It’s hard not to smile, with sunshine pouring in from the windows and a batch of fresh eggs to scramble on the stove.

Your small moment of bliss is interrupted by a pair of hands on your hips and a large body bracketing yours.

There isn’t even a moment of fear, you instinctually lean back into the man behind you. A moment later, a rough beard brushes over your cheek.

“Pancakes this mornin’?” Price asks, big paws resting on the softness of your hips.

“Hmm,” you hum, tilting your head to claim his lips. He sways the two of you back and forth slowly, to the beat of the song, and lets you take your time with him. “Blueberries in yours,” you tell him when you come up for a breath of air.

One hand shifts to your ass, the other to your stomach, and you feel him smile. “Thank you, love. Got time for a quick round before they burn?”

You mimic his smile, let him bend you over slowly. “You’re just in time, Captain, I haven’t cracked the eggs yet.”

“Perfect,” he purrs, pressing himself to your backside. He tucks his plaid pajama pants down a little, rubbing his warm morning wood against you. You fold your arms beneath your head, let your eyes drift closed as his fingers make quick work of getting you ready.

Moments later, the heavy length of his cock fills you slowly. You moan, shifting your legs a little bit wider as he massages your waist.

“There you go,” he sighs, bottoming out and grinding himself slowly inside of you. “Tight as always, perfect girl.”

You giggle a little drowsily, wiggling your hips against his. “Always for you, John.”

He sighs contentedly, pulling out slowly. “Don’t I know it.”

He fucks you slowly, a steady pace that drags against all your most sensitive parts on every thrust. John’s thick, and the stretch isn’t quite comfortable with no prep. But you’re still a little loose from your time with Soap and Gaz last night, so it’s far from painful to take him.

He hunches over you as he gets closer and closer to the edge, elbows resting on either side of you and breath ghosting across your nape.

“Aw,” you hear Soap say,voice rough from sleep as he steps into the kitchen. “I wanted first go today.”

“Early bird gets the worm, Johnny,” Gaz teases, settling into a chair in the little breakfast nook Simon had built soon after moving in. “You’re the one who stayed up so late with her last night.”

“Wasn’t just me, jackass, you’re the one who-”

“Boys,” Price grunts, hips slamming against yours, leaving you squirming beneath him. “Will you shut the fuck up while I’m balls deep in our girl?”

You can’t help but snort beneath him, pushing yourself up enough to arch your back further, stick your ass further out for him. “Ye-yeah, boys.”

“Hush,” Price scolds, one hand shifting to your neck where he forces you flat to the counter again. “‘M almost there…”

He groans lowly as he buries himself deep inside of you, pumping slowly as you tighten up, trying to milk him. “Fuck, feels good…”

You smile against your arms as the pleasure that had been building inside of you starts to dull to a simmer, something warm in the root of you.

Price pulls out only moments later, two thick fingers tucking into you to keep any of his come from dripping out. “Keep me safe inside you, pretty thing, c’mon. Clench down.”

You take a deep breath and try your best to listen, straightening up and doing your best to keep yourself from dripping down your thighs.

He turns you around, leaning you back against the counter and cupping your cheeks in his hands, tugging your face up to give you a soft kiss. “Thank you,” he whispers into your mouth, just quiet enough for you to hear.

“Of course.” You reach up to grab his wrists, holding him close. “Never gonna say no to you, John.”

The two of you linger in the moment, sunlight warming your skin as you breathe into each other.

It’s Soap that interrupts you, an intentionally obnoxious clearing of his throat nearly making you jump. “Any chance at coffee sometime today, bonnie?”

You huff a laugh into Price’s mouth, pushing him away and shooting a half-playful look to Johnny. “Can’t give me a minute of peace, can you?”

He smirks, “Nope.”

John scoffs as he pulls away, moving you with him and giving you a quick tap to the ass to send you over to the counter with the coffee machine. “Someone’s gotta teach you some patience, MacTavish.”

“If Ghost still hasn’t gotten it into him, no one is,” Gaz laughs, shifting enough for Price to join him on the bench.

“Who says I haven’t?” Ghost says, stepping from the hallway. He’s already got a cigarette lit between his lips, and you wave him away with a spatula.

“No!” You scold, trying to shoo him closer to the window. “No smoking in my house! You know I hate the smell.”

Ghost rolls his eyes good-naturedly but lets you herd him to the open window, resting a shoulder on the windowsill and blowing a mouthful of air. You hmph, satisfied, and move to flip the pancakes. “You’re not the one who has to get that smoke out of all the furniture, you know.”

Ghost sighs, but he’s dramatic enough about it for you to know that he’s intentionally exaggerating his annoyance. “Awful early for all that nagging, woman.”

You glare at him playfully, picking up an egg to crack. “Awful early for a cig, too.”

He huffs and you crack your egg, the kitchen shifting into a comfortable silence. You continue your humming as the song changes to something more upbeat, unable to keep a smile from your face.

———————————————————————

You’re half tipsy, giggling into Soap’s mouth as the two of you stumble into the house. You manage to trip over the lip of the entrance, and you yelp as you start to fall.

Johnny just barely manages to twist and catch the both of you in time, grunting loudly as he hits the ground. The breath is knocked from the both of you, and you lay there in the dark for a moment, still.

You’re giggling as soon as you can breathe again, unable to stay still with all the energy and wiggling against his chest. “Jo-Johnny!”

“What?” He pants, still not fully able to take a breath in. You can see the outline of a smile, though, and his hands come up to fully cup your ass. “You were the one taht tripped, lass!”

That only makes you laugh harder, kicking your feet against his shins. “I-I know!”

Now he laughs, a full-bellied sound that has you bouncing on his chest. He manages to push himself up so that you’re in his lap, and presses his mouth to yours without warning.

You make a high sound of surprise but quickly kiss him back, licking into his mouth when he parts his lips.

Your kiss is messy, both of you a little too drunk and a little too needy to bother for tact. Johnny’s softer than he usually is, all tongue and no teeth. You wrap your arms around his neck, shifting so your knees rest on either side of him and squeeze his hips.

“Need you,” he pants into your mouth, shifting you over him to start a slow grind. “Need to be inside you, bonnie.”

“Yeah, please,” you say, quickly dropping your hands to his belt and clumsily working at his belt. It takes several tries for you to get it undone, and both of you get more and more desperate. Your underwear get more and more damp as you work yourself over the rough denim of his jeans, your skirt rucked up around your hips as he palms at your ass.

“Come on,” he growls, landing a harsh slap against the meat of your thigh. You yelp at the sting, then giggle, and finally manage to get his belt loose, quickly tugging it off.

“There you go,” you mumble, throwing the belt to the side and hearing it slide against the hardwood. “C’mon, c’mon, need you now, Johnny.”

He nearly snarls into your mouth, jerking your panties to the side and stuffing two fingers into you with no warning. You jolt higher on your knees and moan, digging your nails into his shoulder.

“Sit still,” he growls, tugging you back down and scissoring his fingers quickly to spread you. He slips a third finger in easily, your cunt already slick and dripping for him. “Stop fuckin’- stop wigglin’ around.”

You can’t help but giggle again, pushing your smile against his lips and nipping at his chin. “Can’t hold me down, MacTavish?”

You feel him grin, growling playfully, and before you can keep prodding him he’s got you flipped onto the floor beneath him. You squeal when he somehow manages to keep his fingers inside of you, pushing deep as he pins you down. He tucks your knees higher, both of your legs resting on his shoulders.

“I’ll show you held down, lass,” he growls, smile just barely visible above you. “Want it rough, then?”

You bite back another laugh, pushing up just enough to bite his bottom lip and tug it down with you. “As rough as you’ve got, MacTavish.”

It works as the perfect taunt you’d meant it as, and he’s buried in your tight heat before you can try and push him any further. Your head falls back against the hardwood floor as his falls to your throat, both of you moaning loudly as his hips meet your thighs.

“Fuck,” he groans, teeth pressed against your throat. When you arch your neck even further, he bites into your flesh, sucking a hicky and making you ever wetter between the thighs. “Fuck.”

“She tight, Johnny?”

You both yelp at the sudden voice, Johnny jolting away from your neck and shifting inside of you, causing you both to melt again.

There, in the corner of the room, is Ghost. He’s smoking a cigarette by the window, illuminated only by the glow of his cigarette butt and the moon. You can’t quite see his expression, but you can just imagine the cocky smirk.

Johnny groans above you, sinking back down to press kisses along your throat and forcing your knees almost to the side of your head. “Scared the shit outta’ me, Ghost,” he sighs, pulling out just enough to give you a few tiny thrusts. You moan, letting yourself relax into the floor.

“Not surprised,” Ghost says, and you watch as he stubs out the cigarette and take a few steps to where the two of you are tangled in each other. “How much did you two have to drink?”

You laugh at the question, but it melts into a moan as Johnny starts to find a rhythm that works for both of you. Your knees nearly knock against your own face as he makes his way across your neck, leaving bruising kisses.

“Not-” you choke a bit on a particularly rough thrust, just barely managing to keep your eyes open and watch as Simon settles into an armchair. “Not that much.”

“Yeah,” Johnny pants, lifting himself up enough to look down at you. “How-how much’ve you had, L.t.?”

Ghost snorts, taking a swig from a beer bottle you hadn’t noticed before. “Less’n you two, I can tell that much.”

You and Johnny both snicker, half out of breath already, but none of you try and keep speaking as Johnny starts to really fuck into you, finding a perfect rhythm that’s just a little messier than usual, a little jerkier.

The two of you make no attempt to be quiet, moaning and whining loudly as you work to find that peak. Even with folded in half as you are, you try to push into him as much as you can to help him hit the perfect spot inside of you.

You nearly scream when he does, clenching down so tightly onto him that he’s forced to a still inside of you, his length throbbing in time with your heartbeat.

The world blurs around you as Johnny takes your lips again, pressing your tongues together in a slick slide as he batters inside of you.

“Clo-close,” you gasp, clawing down his shoulders. Your nails dig in enough through his shirt to have him moaning, arching further into your touch.

“Me too, bonnie.”

He shifts enough to lean his weight further onto your thighs, newly freed hand smoothing down your chest and stomach to work against your clit. You melt beneath him, muscles going loose as you turn into nothing but a limp doll for him to fuck.

Your eyes squeeze shut as your orgasm starts to overcome you, Johnny’s work against your clit and the hot length inside of you finally shoving you over the edge.

“Fuck- fuck!” Johnny nearly shouts above you, your orgasm triggering his own. You cling tight to him, dragging his body as close to you as possible while your muscles clench down around him. The two of you are nearly drooling in each other’s mouths, eager for as much physical touch as possible.

It feels like an impossible amount of time later when you hear Ghost crouch down next to you, see his shadow cast over both you and Johnny. “You two done, then?”

You feel Johnny huff where he’s leaned against your cheek, feel his smile grow against yours.

“Yeah, Si,” you say, squirming a bit beneath Johnny to try and get out from under him. “I think we’re done.”

Johnny gans a little but he obliges and shifts back enough for his softened cock to pull out of you. You both whine in sync at the separation, and he finally lets your legs fall to the ground, heels thudding against the floor.

Johnny rolls off of you, flopping to the floor next to you. “Carry us to bed, L.t.”

You giggle and blink up at Simon, softened from your orgasm and the lingering buzz from your night out. “Yeah, L.t.,” you lift your arms high, making grabby hands like a toddler. “Carry us to bed.”

Ghost snorts above you, but he still leans down and scoops you up beneath the knees and the back. You squeal when he hefts you over his shoulder into a fireman's carry. He ducks low again and you grasp onto the bottom of his sweatshirt, then giggle when Johnny flops bonelessly over Ghost’s other shoulder.

He carries the two of you effortlessly down the hall, and Johnny’s soft laugh joins yours - well, at least before you hear a muffled slap and he quiets himself/ Of course that only makes you laugh, earning you a spank of your own.

You’re dropped rather carelessly onto the massive mattress all five of you share these days, hand flopping against what you’re sure is Price’s chest as Ghost falls on top of Johnny where he’s dropped.

You hear a muffled oof! from next to you and curl into Price with a smile, tucking yourself close to his chest. He rumbles a low noise, instinctually tucking you close. You can hear Gaz getting annoyed with Ghost and Soap, feel him kicking at them to fight for his own spot on the mattress. You fall asleep with Ghost’s back to yours and Price’s chest to yours, surrounded by warmth.

———————————————————————

You groan into the sheets in frustration, fists clenched tight. “Simon, come on, please.”

He spanks you sharply, but the pain is hardly noticeable compared to the need you’re drowning in.

“Quiet,” he grunts, three fingers spreading your ass. “Need to stretch you out properly, don’t want any tears.”

You whine, arching your back and pushing your ass further into the air. “I’m ready, I promise, just need you inside. I’ve been stretched for the last ten minutes!”

“And you’ll get stretched for ten more if you don’t quit complaining.”

It’s almost impossible to bite back a complaint at that, but you manage to dull it down to just a near-painful eye roll. You try your best to stay still for him, stay patient, even as you feel like your pussy is dripping like a faucet.

Ghost has fucked you with far less prep than this, you know he’s just trying to be an asshole - no pun intended. You also know that the more you rush him, the slower he’ll go. So you force yourself a little looser, let your body sink more comfortably into the position he’s got you in.

It doesn’t make the wait any easier.

You’re not sure how long it’s really been when he finally deems you stretched enough, but he finally pulls his fingers free. You whimper at the cold dribble of lube as he spreads a bit more across your stretched hole, the slick sounds echoing in the room telling you he’s likely spreading it across himself too.

“Alright, love,” he says, notching himself at your back hole with both hands on your hips. “Loosen up for me now.”

The stretch is sinful as he finally gives you his cock, enough for you to feel the sting but not at a painful point. Your eyes roll back in pleasure instead of frustration, and your knees shift just a little wider to welcome him more fully into your body.

“Fuck, you feel good<’ he grunts, grip tightening on your hip.

On a normal night with Ghost, you’d expect minimal prep and long rounds of edging. He likes to keep you from coming for as long as possible, then coax an orgasm that feels earthshattering from you when he finally shoves you off that ledge. Either that, or he fucks you quick and dirty - in the yard outside, in the shower, in the middle of the night, really any time he feels like getting off. With you around, there’s no need to masturbate. That leaves you getting bent over and used at any time he feels the slightest urge to get off, but you couldn’t mind less.

Now, though, Ghost paces himself far more slowly than usual. His thrusts are long, bottoming out and pulling back until the head of his cock just barely breaches your hole. If you couldn’t feel the way his hands bruise your hips, you’d almost call his pace leisurely.

The two of you are near silent as he fucks you, content to fill the air with soft moans and the occasional whine instead of dirty talk. It feels nice, such slow sex with Simon. It’s a side of him he rarely lets you see, even now.

He knows you can’t come from anal alone, and is feeling generous enough to grab one of your hands and shift it down, telling you, “Rub your clit for me, love. Wanna feel you come.”

And, well, who are you to disobey?

You bring yourself to a slow, rolling orgasm with rhythmic circles against your clit, hips working against his even with his grip. You moan more loudly now, moith open and spit spreading across the pillow.

“Si-Simon,” you gasp. “Feels so good, so deep.”

“Yeah? Deep in your ass, huh, love?”

“Mhmm, mhmm. Can hardly br-breathe around you, Si.”

“I know, so big in your little hole. You’re taking me well, though, being such a good girl for me. Gonna - fuck, love - gonna make me come, give you a nice load then plug you up.”

“Yes, yes…”

“You want that? Want to be stuffed with my come? Keep me inside of you ‘til I say you can take the plug out?”

“Yes, I’ll keep it in for you, Si, be so good for you.”

“Oh, I know it, love. Always a good girl for me, most perfect girl… fuck, feel so good around me…”

He groans when he finally gets himself off, pulling you back onto his harsher thrusts and letting your channel squeeze the come from him. You rub your clit a few more times, ignoring the aftershocks in favor of forcing your muscles to milk him a bit.

When he finally pulls out, he tucks a good-sized plug into your loosened hole before any of his come can slip out. You shift from your knees to your stomach with a soft hum, tugging a pillow into your arms as your eyes drift shut.

“You stayin’ in here for a bit?” Ghost asks, brushing some of your hair away from your face and dipping down to press a dry kiss to your cheek.

“Hmm. Gonna take a nap before dinner.”

“Alright. Need any help tonight?”

“No,” you hum, curling deeper into the bedding. “You can set the table, if you really want.”

You hear him laugh as he pulls away, weight shifting off of the mattress. “I’ll leave that to Johnny, I think.”

A few moments later the door click softly shut behind him, and you float into a peaceful slumber while trying to half-plan dinner.

———————————————————————

You’re half-asleep when you feel someone shift in bed next to you, their body covering yours. There’s a distinct hardness against the small of your back, and you press back against him.

“Stay still,” you hear Gaz whisper in your ear as he urges you further onto your stomach. You hum a little in response as he settles over you, kneeing your thighs apart enough for him to rest between them. “Don’t wanna wake anyone else up, right sweetheart?”

You hum again in what’s probably supposed to be agreement, but is really just a half-asleep sound. You trust all your boys, though, so you’re perfectly content to let Kyle do whatever he wants.

You sleep naked these days, so it’s easy for him to spread your cheeks a bit, to rub at your folds. You’re still a little damp from the shower sex with Price you’d had right before bed, and Kyle doesn’t seem to think you need much more than that.

You’re almost asleep again when you feel the tip of his cock at your hole, and then the familiar weight of him entering you. It’s hard not to groan, especially when you’re so dazed, but you think you do a good job.

Well, until Kyle shushes you loudly, stuffing a few of his fingers into your mouth.

You make a small offended noise, but it shifts into a sound of pleasure when he sinks fully inside of you.

“Hush. Don’t wanna share you right now, just needed to feel you for a bit.”

You feel his hips shift against yours before he sort of falls to the side, taking you with him. You’re left spooning him, his cock buried deep inside of you and kept warm by your body.

He sighs, pleased, against your back and pulls his fingers from your mouth, letting his hand float down to rest on one of your breasts. He squeezes you for a few moments, but that only works you up more and has you squirming against him.

Kyle makes a small, whining noise and squeezes you more tightly to him. “Stay still, love. Just want to hold you, let you hold me. Go back to sleep, yeah?”

You sigh, debate trying to get him to finish what he started, but ultimately decide that it sounds like far too much work for your current state.

So instead you let yourself relax into Gaz, body quickly adjusting to the weight and stretch of him. It’s easier than you might’ve thought to doze off like that, held close to Kyle’s chest.

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soulsnatcha3000 · 2 months ago

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Let Me In

Remmick x black!fem oc

Summary: The summer night clings thick around Lenora as she hovers at the screen door, drawn to the danger waiting outside. Remmick stands in the dark, all wicked smiles and promises she shouldn’t want. Her family sleeps just feet away, but he leans closer, voice low and sinful, tempting you to break. She knows better, but her body betrays her— and Remmick, all patience gone, is ready to beg for the privilege of ruining her.

Warnings: cunnilings, unprotected sex, oral sex (fem receiving), BACKSHOTTTTTS, JUST STRAIGHT FLITHY, he’s MEAN

a/n: had to edit some stuff! sorry for the wait! Hope yall enjoy reading this🫶🏾

Update: 1,004 notes?!!! WTFFF THANK YOU OMGG

dw no drool is mentioned

The screen door sighed.

The porch was bathed in soft, silvered dark, the fields humming with crickets and hidden things. The air hung thick, tasting of dust and something sweeter underneath. Behind me, my family slept on, but i stood frozen at the door.

Waiting.

Remmick leaned against a porch post, lazy in the low light, shirt sleeves rolled, collar loose, like temptation carved into human shape. His eyes found me — slow, deliberate — and he smiled like he had all the time in the world.

“Well, look at you,” he murmured.

I gripped the doorframe tighter, nightgown clinging to your skin in the heat.

“You ain’t supposed to be here,” i said, barely above a whisper.

“And yet,” he drawled, tipping his head, “you keep waitin’ for me.”

The screen door bowed as he brushed it with his knuckles, light as a prayer.

“Open up, pretty thing,” he coaxed. “Let’s not pretend either of us got the will to walk away.”

I stayed silent, the air between you thick with all the things neither of you would say.

He leaned in slow, until the world narrowed to the press of his voice against the thrum of my blood.

“I could wait all night,” he whispered. “But you’re the one shakin’, baby.”

My fingers curled tighter into the frame, splinters biting my skin. Every instinct screamed to shut the door, to bolt it tight — but my body, my blood, told a different story.

I leaned in, so close now that the screen barely mattered, so close i could feel his hunger vibrating in the air between you.

“You don’t know what you’re askin’,” i whispered, the words shaking as they left me.

Remmick’s mouth tilted into a half-smile, nothing kind about it. “I know exactly what I’m askin’,” he said, voice fraying at the edges. “And you know exactly what you’d give me.”

Slow, deliberate, he dragged his fingertips down the mesh — a rasping sound that made me shudder harder than if he’d touched my bare skin. He watched me, saw the way i pressed my thighs together like i could hold back the flood.

He nodded to my thighs. “You..and those pretty legs of yours…damn sugar I’m getting desperate out here.” He groaned softly.

“You keep pressin them together… do you not realize how crazy you doing that makes me? Thinking about them… wrapped around my waist.. or on my shoulders. Hell even buried in between them.”

I turned away quickly, exhaling shakily, heart pounding against my ribs. He was making this so damn hard.

“I know you think about it too,” he said, voice dropping to something dangerous and hypnotic. “How good it’ll feel… my cock buried so deep inside you wont even be able to think straight.”

“All the different ways I could have you…” he continued, eyes raking over me. “The way my mouth would make you come… again and again… tasting every drop of you.”

I whimpered before I could stop myself, slamming the door shut right in his face, heart racing like I’d just run a marathon.

On the other side, I heard him chuckle — deep, rough, absolutely unbothered.

“I know you’re soaking right now, darlin’,” he said, voice muffled but still dripping with that maddening confidence. “Could smell you from out here. Fuck… just let me in.”

“Go away.” I said as my voice cracked and I could hear him sigh.

“I’ll be back tomorrow night…every night. Until you let me have you.” And as he said that I heard his boots going down the porch steps I let out a sigh turning, as I begin to walk away from the door.

“Nora?” I jumped as I heard the voice of my mother.

“H-hey momma, Whatchu doing up?” I calmed my voice, the conversation I had with remmick still in my head.

“I should be asking you the same thing, you was talking to someone?” She yawned.

“No, just thought I heard something outside and checked real quick. It’s um, it’s nothing there.” I chuckled nervously nodding.

She looked at me suspiciously and then nodded slowly. “Uh huh alright..well at least get some sleep. We gotta open up the shop early.”

I nodded. “Yes ma’am. Good night, I love you.” I smiled softly.

“Love you too honey, night.” She blew a kiss turning the lamp off going back to my father and hers bedroom.

I groaned turning around back to my room. “I need my own damn place.” I closed my door softly, careful not to wake anyone. And got in my bed twisting and turning before falling asleep.

———

The morning sun cut through the kitchen window in soft gold stripes, warming the worn wooden table where she sat peeling potatoes.

My hands worked automatically — knife in one hand, potato in the other — but my mind was somewhere else entirely.

I’ll be back every night… until you let me have you.

His voice still echoed in my head, low and sinful, curling around my thoughts no matter how hard I tried to focus on the day ahead.

“Mornin’, sleepyhead.”

My older brother, Eli, sauntered in, ruffling my hair as he grabbed a biscuit from the tin.

“You were tossing and turning all night. Bad dreams?”

I forced a laugh, nudging him with my elbow.

“Somethin’ like that.”

If only he knew.

Their mother bustled in next, apron already tied, sleeves rolled to her elbows.

“Eat quick,” she said, pushing a plate of eggs toward her. “We open the store in twenty minutes. And don’t let that Mr. Hargrove short you again — I saw him trying to sneak two loaves for the price of one last week.”

“Yes, ma’am,” i said, slipping into the rhythm of it — the comfort of normalcy.

But when i stepped out into the bright morning and crossed the dusty road to the little general store their family owned, a shiver still danced down her spine.

I could almost feel him out there — somewhere beyond the neat rows of houses and the muddy street, hidden in the woods, in the shadows.

Watching.

Waiting.

————

“Let’s get to work.” James said.

“Got a shipment comin’ in later,” he added on, straightening up with a grunt. “Pa said we gotta restock the sugar and soap.”

“Alright,” I said, tying my apron tighter.

My younger brother James was already stacking crates near the counter, whistling tunelessly.

———

The morning rush had slowed, and I leaned against the counter, dusting flour that I had dropped off my apron.

My younger brother James was sweeping in the corner, and Eli was restocking canned peaches.

I sighed quietly, half to myself.

“Lord, I can’t wait till I have a place of my own someday. Just a little house… no brothers banging around. No early mornings unless I want ‘em.”

James snickered, twirling the broom like a bat.

“Yeah right. You’d miss us in two days.”

I rolled my eyes, but before I could fire back, the door to the storeroom creaked open.

My father stepped out, wiping his hands on a rag, his work shirt stained from unloading crates.

He scratched his jaw, giving me a look that was part serious, part something else she couldn’t read yet.

“You want your own place that bad, sweetheart?” he asked, voice low and knowing.

I blinked, caught off guard.

“Well… I mean, one day, sure. Ain’t in a rush.”

He nodded, tossing the rag onto the counter.

“Good thing, then,” he said with a small smile. “Cause I got you one.”

I straightened up, heart thudding.

“What?”

“Little place down on Willow Lane,” he said, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Old Mrs. Cartwright’s place — she moved in with her daughter outta town. Rent’s cheap, real cheap. Fixed it up some. Even put in some new furniture — nothin’ fancy, but it’ll do.”

I stared at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“You serious?”

“I-how did you-.” I was speechless.

He chuckled. “Heard you mumbling to yourself about it last week. And Course I’m serious. You’re grown, sugar. You deserve a space that’s yours. Key’s in my coat pocket if you wanna go see it after supper.”

James dropped the broom with a loud clatter.

“You’re really lettin’ her move out? Just like that?”

My father shrugged.

“She’s twenty-two. Good head on her shoulders. ’Sides, she’s only two streets over. She ain’t runnin’ off to New York.”

Behind her, James let out a squawk and dropped the broom with a loud clatter.

Eli crossed his arms, mock-scowling.

“Hold on now — what about us?” he said, jerking a thumb between himself and James. “When we wanna have the missies over, if you know what I mean?”

James smirked, elbowing him.

“Yeah! No more sneakin’ ‘em past Ma if she’s gone!”

Their father shot them both a hard look that could’ve split stone.

“You bringin’ any missies over while you still live under my roof, you’ll be sleepin’ in the barn. With the hogs.”

The store went dead silent for a beat.

Then James coughed and bent real quick to pick up the broom.

“Just kiddin’, Pa.”

Eli mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “worth askin’ anyway” under his breath.

My heart was beating so hard I thought it might shake me right out of my shoes.

A home.

My own home.

“Thank you, Daddy,” I whispered, throat thick with emotion.

He winked at me and headed back into the storeroom without another word, leaving me standing there stunned, my brothers bickering behind her.

Somewhere deep down, a flicker of fear stirred — because I knew:

When night fell and he came back for me…

I wouldn’t have a house full of family around anymore.

I would be alone.

And I wasn’t sure if that made me scared — or excited.

————

The afternoon sun dipped low, painting long shadows across the store floor.

I wiped my hands clean on a rag, satisfied. Shelves stocked. Counters wiped down. Ledgers tallied. Another day’s work done.

My brothers, as usual, lounged behind the counter, tossing an apple back and forth like it was honest work.

I smirked, tossing the rag aside.

“You two sure work hard,” I drawled, hands on my hips.

James caught the apple with a grin.

“Hey, gotta save our strength for tomorrow.”

“Right,” I said dryly.

Then I spotted my father’s heavy coat hanging near the storeroom.

Heart skipping, i sauntered over and slipped my hand into the front pocket, feeling around until my fingers closed over cool metal.

The key.

I fished it out, holding it up between two fingers like a prize.

It glinted in the fading light.

James and Eli froze mid-apple toss.

“Look what I got,” i said sweetly, twirling the key on its ring.

James groaned dramatically.

“There she goes, big boss already.”

Eli slouched against the counter, face twisted in mock betrayal.

“Don’t forget about us when you’re sittin’ on your fancy porch, drinkin’ lemonade.”

I slipped the key into my skirt pocket with a grin.

“I’ll think of y’all when I’m not hearin’ your big mouths every morning.”

As i headed for the door, Eli suddenly straightened, pointing an accusing finger at me.

“You ever think maybe she just wants her own place so she can be fresh?” he said loudly, looking straight at their father. “You think about that, Pa?”

I stopped dead in my tracks, scandal flashing in my eyes.

“Me fresh?” I scoffed, spinning around with my hand on her hip. “You and that little girlfriend of yours are the fresh ones, Eli! Don’t get me started!”

James howled with laughter, practically collapsing against the counter.

I snapped my gaze to him, narrowing my eyes.

“Oh, you wanna laugh now too, James?” I said sweetly — too sweetly. “I could tell Ma and Daddy exactly what I heard last week.”

James smirked, tossing the apple in the air again.

“Feeding the cows,” he said cockily.

I lifted my chin, deadpan.

“More like feeding something else.”

James’ smirk dropped clean off his face.

His cheeks burned red as he grabbed the nearest thing — a throw pillow off the bench behind him — and hurled it at me.

I dodged it easily, laughing as it thumped harmlessly against the doorframe behind me.

Eli howled with laughter, almost falling over.

Their father just shook his head with a sigh.

“Lord, give me strength,” he muttered, walking back into the storeroom.

I grinned, blowing a kiss at my brothers before grabbing my bag.

“Y’all have a good night now!” I sang as she slipped out the door, the key jangling in my pocket.

The door swung shut behind me, the bell jingling softly.

Inside, James and Eli stood frozen, still scowling after her.

James finally muttered, “She better not bring no trouble to that new place.”

Eli snorted.

“Yeah, she actin’ all innocent… watch, she gonna have some slick-talker sneakin’ in through the window first night.”

Before either of them could blink, their father appeared from the back, wiping his hands on a rag.

Whap!

He smacked the back of James’ head with a heavy hand, then Eli’s a second later — hard enough to make them both stumble forward.

“Ow!” James yelped, rubbing the back of his skull.

“What was that for?!” Eli complained, ducking away.

Their father narrowed his eyes at both of them.

“Worry about your own trouble before you run your mouths ‘bout hers,” he said firmly. “And don’t let me catch you bringin’ no fast girls ‘round here neither.”

James and Eli muttered sheepish yes, sirs under their breath, suddenly real interested in counting apples on the counter.

————

Their father just shook his head again and walked off, grumbling under his breath.

“Should’ve bought myself a second barn to lock all of you kids away,” he muttered, clearly fed up.

“And Eli!” he called over his shoulder, not even looking back. “Get your own damn place! You’re 25!”

James snickered loudly, grinning wide.

“Might as well just sleep in the barn, huh?” he teased, elbowing his older brother.

Eli shot him a sharp glare, and punched James’s arm.

“Shut up, James,” Eli snapped, though the bite in his voice was fading.

James rubbed his arm with exaggerated pain, wincing dramatically.

“Ouch! See, that’s why Pops got Nora a place and not you. At least she does her part. While you’re off sneaking around, swapping spit with—” he paused, raising an eyebrow “—who knows what girl this time.”

Eli’s face flushed a deep red, his fists clenching at his sides. His body tensed as if he were about to explode.

“None of your business!” he growled, his voice tight with fury.

Before James could even react, Eli practically launched himself over the counter, his legs swinging as he tried to grab James by the collar.

James yelped, diving out of the way just in time. He dashed across the store, laughing and shouting over his shoulder,

“Too slow, Eli!”

Eli chased after him, his face twisted in frustration and embarrassment, but James was already a few steps ahead, running for his life.

Their father, still in the back, barely glanced up but muttered under his breath,

“Good Lord, not again…”

⸻

The sun had dipped low by the time i reached my new house, a small, neat little thing tucked at the edge of town. The fresh paint on the porch still smelled sharp in the warm evening air.

I stood for a second at the bottom of the steps, clutching the key in my hand, feeling a little knot of nerves and excitement twist in my stomach.

It wasn’t much — a plain wood house with a crooked chimney and a creaky screen door — but it was mines.

I grinned to herself, slipping the key into the lock. It stuck for a second, and i had to jiggle it, but then it gave way with a satisfying click.

The door swung open with a soft groan, and i stepped inside.

The furniture was brand new — well, new enough. A simple table with two mismatched chairs, a sturdy bed tucked into the back room, a little worn couch sitting by the window. It wasn’t fancy, but it was clean. And it smelled like wood and fresh linen.

I dropped my bag by the door, turning in a slow circle, taking it all in.

A slow, proud smile pulled at my lips.

“Finally,” I whispered to myself. “A place of my own.”

As I pulled open a window to let the evening breeze in, I swore I felt it — a tingle at the back of her neck. Like I was being watched.

I couldn’t help but shiver a little.

Brushing it off, I shook my head and went back inside.

⸻

I smiled to myself, still glowing with excitement, and wandered toward the little closet in the corner of the bedroom.

Just as I reached for the door, the old rotary phone on the kitchen wall started ringing, the sharp sound making me jump a little.

I hurried over and picked it up, pressing the receiver to my ear.

“Hello?”

My best friend’s voice came bursting through, full of excitement.

“Girl! Are you at your new place yet?!”

I laughed, my nerves instantly easing.

“Yeah, just walked in not too long ago.”

“Good, good,” my friend said, a grin practically heard through the line. “Now, go look in your closet!”

I blinked, confused.

“My closet?”

“Yes, your closet! Go on, I tucked something away for you earlier — and you better not chicken out neither!”

Shaking my head but smiling wide, I cradled the phone between my ear and shoulder and padded back across the room. I pulled open the closet door and knelt down, spotting a box I hadn’t noticed before tucked neatly into the corner.

“You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” I said into the receiver, laughing under my breath.

“I know!” My friend said, giggling. “Now open it!”

I set the phone down just long enough to lift the lid. Right on top was a folded piece of paper, my best friend’s messy scrawl across it:

“In case you ever decide you wanna let go of that goody two-shoes thing.”

I shook my head, grinning as I pulled back the tissue paper to reveal a deep burgundy nightgown — soft, delicate, and daring.

I gasped softly, my cheeks warming instantly.

“Delphine!” I called into the phone as she picked it back up.

My best friend just laughed.

“You’ll thank me later! Especially when a certain someone comes knockin’!”

I rolled her eyes, but deep down, I felt a little thrill shoot through me. Maybe I would try it on later — just… to see how it felt.

⸻

After the long day at the store and moving into my new place, I wasted no time.

I gathered a fresh towel, my new nightgown, and slipped into the little bathroom tucked off the side of the bedroom.

The water pressure wasn’t much to brag about, but it was warm, and it soothed the lingering ache in my muscles.

I lathered up with my favorite soap — a soft, rich scent of amber, fresh gardenia, and a kiss of vanilla wrapping around me. It was comforting, familiar, a scent that always made me feel like myself. Clean, sweet, a little bold when you got close enough to notice.

When I finished, I stepped out into the steamy little room, toweling off and slipping into the deep burgundy nightgown my best friend had left for me. It slid over my skin like a whisper, cool and soft, clinging in just the right places.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and blushed — I’d never worn anything so… bold before.

Still, part of me liked it.

I padded barefoot back into my room, the hardwood floors cool under her toes. I was smoothing down the nightgown when i heard it — a faint tapping at her window.

Heart racing, I turned — and there he was.

Leaning against the frame, his arms braced casually, a cocky grin playing on his lips.

The soft red glow in his eyes flickered as he took her in, top to bottom, like he was drinking me in.

A low, appreciative whistle escaped him.

My stomach flipped.

Without thinking, i gave the barest tilt of my head — a small, daring motion — and murmured,

“Come in.”

⸻

The air in the little house felt heavier with him in it — like the walls themselves knew trouble had just stepped across the threshold.

I backed up slowly, my bare feet brushing the worn floorboards as he followed, eyes glowing low and red, like embers that hadn’t yet gone cold.

I reached the bed first, the hem of my silk nightgown swaying with the movement. His gaze dropped, slow and unapologetic.

“All this for me, huh?” he drawled, voice low and teasing, a rough edge in it that made my knees wobble.

I smirked, cocking my head as i rested one hand on my hip. “Maybe,” i said, coy and even. “You still think I’m sweet?”

He chuckled under his breath, stepping closer. “Sweet?” he murmured, reaching for my hand, pulling her gently toward him. “Darlin’, I think you’re somethin’ else entirely.”

He caught my chin between his fingers, tilting my face up. His thumb brushed along my jaw, his eyes locked on mines like he could see straight through the teasing.

Then he leaned down — not rushed, not hungry just yet — and kissed me. Deep and slow. Like a promise.

My fingers curled in his shirt. My breath hitched, lips parting to meet his again before I pulled back just enough to whisper:

“What happened to all that talk the other night?”

He laughed low, foreheads pressed together.

“Talk’s easy when I’m standin’ behind glass, baby,” he murmured. “But now I got you right here in my hands…” His voice dipped, dragging heat straight down her spine. “Ain’t no talkin’ necessary.”

His hands moved — slow — fingers sliding down my back, palms memorizing every dip of my body like he’d been dreaming about it for a hundred years.

I rested my forehead rest against his chest, heart pounding. The scent of him — something like smoke and pine and danger — filled my nose, made me dizzy.

And he just held me there for a moment. Like he needed to remember this. The weight of me. The warmth.

“I ain’t in no rush,” he said finally, lips brushing my temple. “You open that door… I come through it on your time. You say stop, I stop. But if you don’t—”

He leaned back, just enough to meet my eyes again, voice gone hoarse:

“I’ma ruin you slow, Lenora.”

That was the promise.

I looked up at him biting my lip gently. “So ruin me.”

I looked up at him through my lashes, my voice low but steady. “I’m not stoppin’ you.”

He grinned at that, slow and dangerous, like a man who had all the time in the world to ruin me.

He tugged my closer, the weight of him pressing against my body. His lips brushed against my neck, soft at first, like he was testing, tasting, savoring the way I shivered under him.

My fingers found the button of his pants — clumsy at first, then deliberate as i undid them.

“Not so quick now,” he whispered, his voice rough against my skin. “Let me have the honor of undressin’ you. I been waitin’ long enough.”

I nodded, swallowing down the knot in my throat, my hands falling to my sides as he stepped back.

His eyes never left mines as he undid the clasp of my nightgown, the silk slipping down my body like water — teasingly slow, revealing every curve, every inch of me. When the gown pooled at my feet, i was left in nothing but my skin and the heat that lingered in the air.

He stepped forward again, hands sliding over my shoulders, down my arms, as he pulled me flush against him. The contact sent a jolt straight to my core.

“You’re perfect,” he muttered, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “Perfect for me.”

My hands slid up his chest unbuttoning his shirt down to the last button, finding the warm skin of his torso, feeling the muscles tense under my touch. I let out a soft, shaky breath, my fingers moving to the waistband of his pants, slipping them lower without hesitation.

My pulse was pounding in my ears, my skin humming with the anticipation, with the feeling of his eyes on me, burning and predatory.

“Don’t keep me waitin’, darlin’,” he growled low, voice a raw rasp. “You know what I want.”

His shirt was already half undone, and when i reached up and slid it off his shoulders, he let it fall — didn’t even flinch — just watched me with that slow, wicked grin.

I shoved at his chest, pushing him to sit down on the bed — then climbed into his lap, straddling him.

For a second, he let her think she was in charge.

Let her grab his jaw, kiss him hard, grind against the thick bulge in his pants.

But when she started fumbling with his belt, he grabbed her hips hard, fingers digging into her skin.

“Slow down, sweetheart,” he muttered, voice rough with need. “Ain’t no rush… ’sides, I got plans for you first.”

Without warning, he flipped me — He laid me back on the mattress, my soft coils tumbling wild around my face, catching the low light like a crown.

I barely had time to gasp before he yanked my thighs open and dropped between them like a man possessed.

“Gonna taste you first,” he muttered, breath hot against the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. “Been thinkin’ ’bout this mouthful for days.”

And then he ate me out like he was starving.

No slow teasing. No soft warm-up.

He buried his mouth between my legs and devoured me — messy, wet, deep — until i was squirming and gasping and grabbing fistfuls of the sheets.

When i cried out — high and broken — he just groaned against me, his tongue flicking ruthless, making sure i couldn’t run, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

My mouth agape as my back arched. “O-oh shit.” I whimpered.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he growled against me, mouth slick and filthy. “Give it to me. Give me all that sweet little pussy.”

He caressed my thighs as he continued to devour me with such intensity. My eyes shut tight as I let out loud moans.

“Uh uh open your eyes darlin.” He mumbled in between my thighs, and I opened them to see his eyes red as he stared at me his mouth still moving.

“I-I o-ohh fuck w-wait!” My head thrashed as I let out a squeak my toes curling into the sheets, my chest heaving.

“Oh fuck remmick!” I whined, moving my hand down to push his head back a bit. “J-just wait!”

He moved his head away from my core and rubbed my clit with his thumb.

“What happened to you me letting me ruin you Lenora?” His eyes a shiny red as he continued to run circles on my clit. All I could do is let out noises.

“Don’t do that now honey, you got all dolled up for me, told me to ruin you and now you can’t even form a proper fucking sentence.” He laughed. My brows drawn tight as I went between throwing my head back due the pleasure and looking at him as I moaned loudly.

“Huh? What was that? Can’t hear you sweetie speak up.” He said then went right back to devouring my pussy.

And when she finally shattered for him — legs clamping tight around his head, hips jerking helplessly — he didn’t stop.

He rode it out with her, licking her slow and deep till she was whimpering and trembling, completely wrecked.

“Tired?” He picked up his head from between my thighs. I nodded weakly my eyes watery as I looked at him between my thighs.

“Too bad baby.” He patted one of my thighs and gave it a sweet kiss before going back down in between my thighs.

When he finally pulled back, his mouth was shining, his eyes glowing soft red.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning like sin itself.

“Now that’s the sweetest thing I ever tasted,” he said roughly.

Before i could recover, he was up — unbuckling his pants one-handed, cock springing free, thick and heavy.

He didn’t ask.

Didn’t hesitate.

Just grabbed my hips, dragged me down the bed, and pressed the thick, bare head of his cock against my dripping entrance.

“Gonna fuck you so good, baby,” he rasped, voice breaking at the edges. “So good you won’t even remember your own damn name.”

And then he pushed in — bare, raw, deep — filling me in one thick, slow stroke.

I cried out, clawing at his back, overwhelmed by the stretch, the heat, the filthy, perfect way he fit inside me.

No barrier.

No protection.

Just him — thick and hot and bare — claiming every inch.

He stilled for a moment, forehead pressed to hers, breath ragged.

“Ain’t lettin’ you go now, sweetheart,” he muttered against her mouth before he kissed me slowly.“Too good to be let go of.” He added on

⸻

He didn’t give me time to catch my breath.

I cried out. “R-remmick wait.”

Flipped me onto my stomach with a rough tug, dragging my hips up till i was on my knees, back arched, ass in the air.

“Look at you,” he rasped, sliding back into me with one brutal thrust. “Pretty little thing takin’ this cock like you were made for it.”

I gasped loudly then let out a broken moan.

The sound of skin slapping filled the room — rough, fast, filthy.

I sobbed, my mouth agape. My head dropped into the pillow, the one I so desperately bit into.

Every stroke pushed me forward on the bed, and he just grunted, grabbing my hips tighter, pounding into me like he couldn’t get deep enough.

He moaned loudly throwing his head back.

“Fucking hell.” And I could’ve sworn I heard a slight Irish accent slip out.

I held onto the metal frame the bed squeaking louder and louder each thrust.

I gasped, moaned, whimpered — every noise only spurring him on harder.

He smacked my ass once—twice—three times, low and rough, making me jolt forward with whines.

“I love the way your ass bounces back on me, Nora… mm, shit.”

His voice was thick, breathless — the kind of groan that vibrated down my spine.

I lifted my head, eyes glossy and blurred with pleasure, just to look back — and damn, what a sight.

His brows were drawn tight, jaw slack, lips parted as he stared down at the way my ass met his hips with every thrust…

the wet slap of skin filling the room, his balls hitting with every deep stroke.

He dragged his gaze up from the bounce of my ass, eyes catching mine over my shoulder — and then that damn smile curved across his face.

Without a word, he slid one hand from my waist and gripped the back of my neck, firm but careful, pulling me upright into him.

A guttural moan ripped from my throat as my back arched against his chest, my body molding to his like it was always meant to fit there.

⸻

His fingers were slick as they slid through the mess between my thighs, teasing the swollen spot that made me twitch and gasp.

My head dropped forward, forehead brushing the curve of my arm as I bit down hard on my lip.

He grinned behind me — could feel me tightening, trembling — and still, he didn’t let up. His strokes stayed deep, deliberate. His fingers circled slow, just enough to keep me on edge.

“Tryin’ to be quiet now?” he drawled low, voice thick and husky against the shell of my ear. “After all that beggin’?”

I whimpered, shaking my head, but the words wouldn’t come.

“Oh, baby,” he cooed, dragging his tongue along the side of my neck, “you already lost.”

“You feel that?” he breathed. “That’s me hittin’ that spot over and over till you’re cryin’ again.”

His hand glided up my stomach, stopping when he reached the spot where I could feel the weight of him pressing deep inside me. You feel that, baby?” “Look at how deep I am…look baby.”

“I-I feel it… I can’t— it’s so deep…” I let out a broken sob, not even trying to fight it anymore, I glanced down and saw it — the small bulge in my stomach, thick and impossible to ignore.

My hand trembled as I traced the spot where he pressed from the inside, a deep bulge right in my stomach.

“Please,” i gasped, not sure what i was begging for. To stop. To keep going. To let me fall.

He nipped my shoulder with his teeth, and his voice dropped darker.

“Yeah. That’s it. Beg for it.”

⸻

“That’s right, baby,” he growled. “Cry for me. Let everybody know who’s fuckin’ you now.”

My legs gave out first — i collapsed onto my forearms, shaking, crying from the overwhelming pleasure.

He didn’t stop.

He just followed me down, leaning over my back, fucking me even deeper.

“Gonna fill you up, sweetheart,” he whispered in my ear, voice almost desperate. “Gonna make you mine from the inside out.”

And with that said he began to move slowly, pulling out soft mewls from me.

————

My thighs trembled beneath him, slick and shaking, but he didn’t stop — not with the way my body kept trying to run, even as it begged to stay.

“Where you goin’?” he murmured, lips ghosting against the shell of my ear. “Hm? You tryin’ to run from what you was beggin’ for?”

I couldn’t answer. Could barely breathe. My hand reached back blindly, grabbing at anything — his wrist, his hip, the sheets — but there was no saving myself now. Not with the way he was buried so deep, dragging slow strokes that made me see stars.

And his fingers still worked my clit with steady, wicked precision — slick circles that had my hips jerking back, chasing every stroke even as my head shook like i couldn’t take it.

“Look at you,” he groaned, watching the way my back arched, my ass bouncing just right against his hips. “Takin’ me so damn good. Pussy grippin’ me like she don’t wanna let go.”

I let out a choked moan, and he laughed under his breath, rough and low.

“You feel how messy it is down there?” he growled. “How wet you are for me? That’s mine, baby. You hear me?”

I tried to nod, but the pleasure was mounting too fast — too sharp — my breath catching in short, helpless gasps.

He leaned down, his chest brushing my back, his voice dark velvet in my ear.

“Don’t you come yet.”

I whimpered — almost cried — as his pace slowed just enough to drive me insane, rolling his hips deep, grinding against that spot that made me cry every time.

He kissed my shoulder, then bit it softly.

“You wait till I say, pretty girl. You wanna come on this dick?”

“Huh baby?” He said breathlessly as he smirked before letting out a low moan.

I couldn’t even respond.

“You ask me for it.”

My lips parted, tears burning behind my lashes as i tried to obey — tried to hold it in even though my whole body screamed for release.

“P-please,” I gasped, nearly sobbing.

“Please what?” he coaxed, hips never stopping, voice like sin. “Use your words.”

I arched again, grinding myself back onto him, and the sound that left me was ragged, desperate, raw.

“Please let me come…”

And right then, he slammed into me hard — just once — all the way to the hilt, making me scream out as everything snapped.

⸻

When he finally came — deep, hard, cursing low and filthy against my skin — he held me tight against him, grinding slow and messy to make sure every last drop stayed inside.

I was wrecked.

Sweaty, shaking, boneless.

Face buried in the sheets, trying to catch my breath, my thighs still trembling from the force of it all.

He kissed my shoulder — lazy, soft — and whispered against my skin

I didn’t realize I was crying until I felt his arms around me — pulling me back into him, wrapping tight across my middle like he was trying to hold everything together.

“Shh,” he whispered into my hair, voice low and cracked. “I got you, baby. I got you.”

My body wouldn’t stop trembling. The aftershocks kept rolling through me — soft, sharp little waves that left my thighs quivering and my breath catching in uneven sobs. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Just felt everything, all at once.

He didn’t let go.

Instead, he kept me right there in his lap, my back pressed to his chest, his hands moving slow and careful over my stomach like he was coaxing me back into my skin. One hand drifted up into my hair, smoothing through the damp curls with fingers that trembled a little too — and maybe that’s what undid me most. How gentle he was now. How quiet.

“You’re okay,” he murmured, like a promise. “You did so good for me, pretty girl.”

I didn’t have the strength to speak. Just leaned into him, let my hand find his forearm, clung to him like I was still falling. Like maybe I’d fall forever if I let go.

He kissed my shoulder — soft, reverent — and I shivered.

“You still with me?” he asked, palm cupping my jaw, tipping my head back slightly.

I blinked up at him, dazed and watery-eyed, and nodded.

His smile was different now — not dark, not cocky. Just warm. Real.

“Good,” he breathed against my skin. “Gonna take care of you now, alright?”

He shifted us gently, lowering me back onto the bed, sliding under the covers with me. His body curled around mine like armor, and his hands — still steady, still warm — moved over me in soft circles: my thigh, my side, my hip.

“So fuckin’ proud of you,” he whispered against my neck. “My beautiful girl.”

I let out a breath — not a sob this time. Just something quiet and spent and safe. I let myself melt into him, my body sinking against his like I’d never moved before. And he held me. Through every tremble, every shaky breath. He held me like I was something worth protecting.

And when the silence stretched and the storm in my chest softened, I whispered into it.

“…Don’t go.”

He stilled for half a second — then exhaled slow, his mouth brushing my shoulder.

“I’m not leaving.”

⸻

remmicks pov:

She barely made it a few minutes before her breathing evened out, her body softening completely against me. One of her hands stayed wrapped around me, like she didn’t trust the world enough to let go.

I stayed there, holding her, my thumb brushing slow, lazy circles against the curve of her shoulder.

And I realized — it wasn’t just the heat of her skin, or the way she whispered my name like a prayer that kept me here.

It was something deeper.

Something older.

Because when she clung to me like that — all sleepy and broken open — it stirred up something I thought I’d buried a long time ago.

Something I’d shoved down and left to rot with the rest of the ghosts.

The reason I stayed wasn’t just because she needed me.

It was because in that moment, she reminded me of something I thought I’d lost forever.

A place I could come home to.

And for the first time in a long time, I didn’t want to run from it.

I wanted to stay.

So I tightened my hold around her, tucked her closer, breathed her in.

When she whispered, so small I almost missed it. “Don’t go…”

I bent down, pressed my mouth to her hair, and murmured against her skin.

“I’m not leaving.”

And this time, I meant it.

#sinners #remmick #sinners movie #remmick x oc

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httpuckdrop · 1 month ago

Text

patience – ws2

the three times it was supposed to happen, and the one time it did.

alternatively: realizing will was worth waiting for.

pairing: will smith x reader

genre: smut, fluff, college!au

word count: 6.5k

warnings: first time together, protected sex... no major warnings

author's note: in celebration of my baby very likely being in my home town right now, i decided to finally post this! my will smut ive been working on for ages (since 3rd of march) !!! so excited to finally be done and post it. hope you enjoy reading it <3 (also someone pls come give me a hug bcs usa is playing here tomorrow but i have an mri scan at that exact time so i cant go see him 💔 truly heartbreaking)

18+ content below, minors dni !!

there's a certain intent in the way will kisses you; a certain hunger, a certain need. it's obvious in the way his fingers trace along your skin beneath your shirt, the way his crotch instinctively rolls down against yours, the sounds he lets out. it's hard not to mistake – he wants you, and you'll gladly give him everything he wishes for.

the truth is, though, that you've not yet had sex with will, despite going out for several months. you have discussed it before, but not in too many details; mostly in words along the lines of 'it'll happen when it's time' and 'we're in no rush'. neither of you lives alone, and there's always something coming in between – a hockey game, an exam, a roommate throwing a stupid party – so it's rare for you to find a time and place that fits your desires and needs.

you and him aren't virgins, yet you aren't the most experienced either, so you've still felt a certain excitement when imagining your first time with him. and at this moment, when will's fingers begin to reach for the front of your jeans, the anticipation swells – multiplies, even – as if your entire body is holding its breath.

your dorm room is quiet, save for the low volume of the long forgotten movie playing on your laptop by the foot of your bed. the space is filled with a scent will recognizes as a mix of your favorite scented candles from that little indie store a few blocks away from campus. he parts from your lips and begins trailing kisses down your jaw as his thumb and pointer finger tease your zipper, before finally pulling it down and popping the button. "is... are you..." his breath tickles your skin as he speaks, mouth having moved to the front of your throat. "is this okay?"

you merely nod, eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of his fingers trailing along the waistband of your panties, before remembering that he can't see. "y-yes," you let out, the word breathy on your tongue. will nuzzles his nose against the spot where your neck meets your shoulder, two fingers moving even further down.

"thought so," he says with a chuckle. "you're so wet that i can feel it through the fabric..." he trails his fingers along your slit over your panties, and a shudder passes through your body. "assumed i was doing something right."

"what can i say? you're a good kisser." your hands reach for his shoulders, holding onto them tightly as your head tips back with pleasure when he finally slips past the fabric, finding his way through the folds as if an expert on your body. "we should be quiet, though... daisy is in her room, and..."

will doesn't need to hear more. although he's sure that overhearing some muffled moans won't be the worst thing your dormmate will ever go through, he understands why you would find it awkward to run into your friend if she knew what happened behind your closed doors.

however, it doesn't affect the way he brushes his thumb against your clit, or bites down right above your collarbone, or-

suddenly, someone calls out your name. someone who isn't will.

as if daisy heard you mention her name, she has now found her way to your door, the sound of gentle knocks meeting your ear. "are you almost ready?" she asks, and you frown instinctively.

"ready for what?" you say back, one hand reaching to pull will's head from your skin to halt him.

"for the meeting at the student union." a memory flashes before your eyes. "you said you'd go with me, remember?"

you do remember. you and daisy planned this weeks ago; she really wants to engage in some boring agenda and planning stuff at the student union, but feels too shy to go to these things alone. so, as the good friend you are, you'd promised to tag along to support her.

of course the meeting is tonight, the first time will had gotten into your pants – even if it was just a finger or two.

"right," you say, clearing your throat and letting your gaze meet will's. "i'll be ready in just a few."

the guilt in your eyes is sincere, and will sees it. he accepts the apology you offer him and unwillingly removes his hand from you. "another time?" he asks, straightening up on the bed and allowing you to push yourself to sit next to him.

"another time," you assure him.

"well," he starts, and he's wearing a mischievous grin that you can't quite figure out yet. "until next time..." and then he lifts his fingers to his mouth, pushing them past his lips, and licking himself clear of your juices.

"you're going to be the death of me, you know that?"

you had understood the meaning behind will's call the second he uttered those magical words.

"i'm at the apartment and gabe's not here… maybe you could come over and chill?"

and that's how you find yourself here, on the couch of an off-campus apartment, making out with your boyfriend. fridays are the only days of the week when you don't have any classes, so you'd just been lounging around your apartment and studying when will called, meaning that you just threw on the first things you could find before hurrying off to his place.

it hadn't taken long for the two of you to get settled on the couch in his living room with some random show playing on the tv. just sitting next to him felt too far away, so you climbed into his lap – though, to no surprise of will's, with your back facing the tv. he knew you weren't going to be focusing on the show for much longer anyway.

your lips are already swollen from the kissing, but you can't get enough. his cologne mixes with his natural scent and it's too unbearable, making you just want to swallow him whole. his hands have since long wandered down to your hips, but when they slip beneath your skirt and land on your cheeks, your breath hitches in your throat. he gives your ass a firm squeeze, resulting in you pressing your crotch down against his. there's only the thin material of your underwear separating you from his jeans, and the friction feels far too good to be true.

will takes note of the sounds you're letting out, the little whimpers and weak moans, and keeps on pressing you forward, rolling your hips over his. he bites down on your bottom lip, before soothing the sting with a lick of his tongue and pulling back slightly. "you're-" he cuts himself off to clear his throat, clearly affected by the way you gaze down at him. "you're a fucking dream, did you know that?"

your hand reaches up to brush away a stray curl from his forehead, before raking through his blonde hair. "could say the same thing about you," you tell him, leaning in to briefly brush your lips against his again. "shouldn't we at least go to your room, though?"

will shakes his head, nudging your nose with his. "gabe has classes until four on fridays."

he kisses you with the same type of intensity, as if you'd never even parted. his arms encircle your waist, pulling you flush against him as your other hand makes its way to the back of his head too. when he tilts his head and deepens the kiss, you can't stop your fingers from pulling on his hair – which draws out an unexpected sound from his throat.

you pull back slightly, eyebrows raised. "oh, you have a thing for that?"

"for what?"

"hair pulling," you chuckle.

"dunno what you're talking abou-" his words get cut off when he feels you repeating your actions, fingers getting lost in his curls and pulling so heavenly. his eyes flutter closed, and you can't help but giggle, instead draping your arms around the back of his neck and leaning in even closer.

"it's cute," you tell him, peppering a thousand quick kisses all over his cheek and jaw before letting your hands wander down to the front of his body. "and it's now noted for future use."

as your fingers begin working on the buttons of his shirt, he presses his lips to your neck, licking and nibbling at every inch of skin he can reach. his own hands sneak under your sweatshirt, sliding up your sides and tracing his thumbs along your ribs, before going even further and-

"are you serious?" he asks, biting down on your skin right below your ear as if physically scolding you. "you're really not wearing a bra?"

a jolt of electricity shoots down your spine when his cold hands cup your bare breasts, and you sigh. "i, um... wasn't wearing one when you called," you explain. it's hard to find the right words when he skims his calloused fingertips over your already hardened nipples, making all your thoughts clouded. "didn't bother putting one on... since i was in a rush..."

the feeling of your round, perky tits in his hands is something he could die for, will thinks; this moment right here tops anything he's been through before. combined with the feeling of your nails scratching their way down his now revealed chest, it's equal to heaven.

it all feels so hasty and messy, and maybe it isn't the most romantic of ways to do this, but you two are too eager to care – you just want each other, no matter how.

he's just about to help you get him out of the shirt when suddenly, a sound breaks through his hazy mind. the apartment door crashes shut, and you both freeze in your tracks. "will? man, you'll never guess what-"

gabe perreault, will's best friend, teammate and roommate, suddenly stands in the doorway to the living room. you hold your breath, as if that will make him disappear and undo this entire scene, and will's hands drop to your hips, where you can clearly feel his fingers tense up.

either gabe is blatantly stupid, or else he has seen way worse things in life and just doesn't care – because he just smiles at you and struts into the room. "hi there," he greets you. "didn't know you were coming over. but the more the merrier, right?" you shoot will an alarmed look once gabe settles next to you both on the couch, and your boyfriend looks just as surprised as you. "what are we watching?"

the next time you and will have time to get into a similar situation is over a week later. it's saturday, and the eagles have just won against harvard, which most of the team is out celebrating – but not will. not when daisy is staying over at her boyfriend's place and has left the dorm just for you.

will has no time for celebrating when there's a real chance that he'll get to spend the night inside his girlfriend.

the two of you had this night planned for several days, and you always assumed you'd be lip-locked from the get-go and then get down to business instantly. but on the contrary, the night started off quite slowly; with a movie playing on your laptop yet again, with you cuddled up to his side and his arm draped across your shoulders, and with you both sneaking little innocent kisses from each other every once in a while. since the game, you'd both gotten changed into more comfortable clothes – him in a white shirt and pair of gray sweatpants, you in cotton shorts and a bc hoodie – and the general vibe of it all is lighthearted and cozy, which is not what you had expected.

eventually, though, will's free hand finds your knee, and while the touches start off innocent, it doesn't take long before his fingers begin wandering up your thigh. his head tilts down so that he can press his lips against your cheek, and then your jaw, and then your neck. you sigh when he sucks on a spot under your ear, and his thumb slips past the hem of your shorts to stroke along the inside of your thighs.

with the way your eyelids have fluttered shut and your body is fully relaxed, it's easy for will to tell that the movie is none of your concern anymore. he still makes a point of retracting from you and sitting up more properly, one hand grabbing your laptop. "okay if i shut this off?" he says, but it's not really what he's asking for. are we really doing this? are you okay with this?

you just nod hastily, hands reaching out to him. "yeah, yeah. just come here," you answer, smiling as he pushes your laptop closed and places it on your bedside table before crawling over you. loud and clear.

the first brush of lips is tentative yet completely electrifying. it sets your whole body on fire, and the way one of his hands lands on your jaw, his thumb drawing circles onto your cheek, doesn't exactly tame the flames. it's much more gentle than when you were sitting on will's couch just over a week ago – the slow kisses and unspoken want making your chest ache – yet, there's still a strong sense of neediness behind it.

his shirt comes off in just a second, and then follows your hoodie, leaving you in just a lacy, black camisole that does a pretty poor job of hiding what's going on underneath it. he can't hold back from reaching down to pinch your nipple through the fabric of your top, loving the way you squirm and whine. "so needy already?" he asks, humming at the way your hands grab at his shoulders.

"always needy for you," you hum, tipping your head back as he presses a gentle kiss to the front of your throat, feeling your pulse beneath your skin. he then moves up to lock his lips with yours again. he kisses you feverishly, tingles spreading through your body when his tongue meets yours. his fingers dip inside your top, refusing to neglect any inch of your skin as if memorizing every dip and curve of your body. the combination of him kneading your breasts and licking lazily into your mouth leaves you breathless in just seconds, and yet you honestly think you could stay like this forever.

still, you find yourself pushing at his shoulders and forcing him to lie down instead. at first, he's a little confused, but when you begin to climb on top of him, he obliges happily – having you boss him around like this is insanely hot, and he makes a mental note to repeat this in the future.

you straddle his thighs, leaning forward to trace a finger along the rough ridges of his toned chest. will clasps his fingers together behind his head, letting out a contented sigh as he watches you move down his body. you attach your lips to his skin next, and his breath hitches in his throat. he never could've dreamed about having such a pretty angel kiss her way down his body.

your fingers undo his zipper quickly and will helps you pull his pants down his hips, revealing the tent in his boxers. a chuckle slips from your lips. "so needy already?" you parrot, hands reaching down to brush against his shaft through the fabric. he's so desperate that he twitches even from the slightest of touches, and you almost feel bad for him when you hear the sound that rumbles in his throat. one hand slips past the hem of his underwear, pumping him a few times before rubbing his tip with your thumb and spreading his precum along his hardness. "you're bigger than i thought."

"is that a compliment or an insult?" he says around a moan, hips bucking slightly to try to seek your touch.

"definitely a compliment." you pull his dick free of its confinement, before slipping out of your shorts and throwing them to some random corner of the room. "i knew you'd be big, but... you're much thicker than i imagined."

"god, you can't just say something like that-" he visibly shudders when you lean down to press a kiss to his tip, and then a few more down the underside of him. you're practically itching to taste him, to feel his weight on your tongue, but then you sit up a little straighter again, deciding on something else; you settle on his crotch again, hips rolling down against him.

there's now only one soaked layer of fabric separating will from where he craves to be, and it's killing you just as much as him. his fingers dig into your sides, helping you find a good rhythm as you both grow increasingly impatient. you throw your head back, whining a little too loudly, and you can't take it anymore. "top- top drawer," you choke out, and will understands instantly, reaching out to grab a condom from your bedside table.

he throws it down to you, and letting you rip the packaging open and roll it down his cock. this is it, you think to yourself. god, i really hope this is it. please let this be it-

a signal fills the room. "don't tell me that's..." but yes, it is; will picks up his phone from the other side of the bed, holding it up to reveal that it's his mother calling. and to your greatest dismay, he answers the call. will, ever the mama's boy, has apparently never missed a call from his mother.

he's seemingly also never been able to read a room – or what it means when someone glares and shakes their head at him.

"hey, mom," he says, head flopping down against the pillow. "yeah, the game went well- oh, you streamed it?"

you sit there stunned. is this really happening? were you really just about to have sex with your boyfriend for the first time, but got interrupted by his mom? should you climb off him, leave him alone in the room, jump out the window from the fourth floor?

as if able to read your thoughts, one of his hands lands on your hip again, thumb rubbing along your hipbone reassuringly as his gaze meets yours. he looks apologetic and guilty, but it doesn't quite take away from the disappointment you feel. "mhm, gabe's shot there was amazing... i know, it was unnecessary for me to take that penalty, i didn't mean to..."

a tiny part of you wants to tease him a little, to kiss your way around his shaft, to see him stutter and hang up already – but he's far too good and he doesn't deserve it. he seems to really feel bad over what he did, as if he acted on impulse and regretted his actions instantly.

when he finally hangs up, he throws his phone to the side and drags a hand down his face. "so... your mom?" you ask hesitantly.

he nods. "i completely ruined the mood, didn't i?" he says with a weak chuckle.

"it doesn't have to," you reassure him, leaning down to stroke your hands down his chest, but he shakes his head and looks down at his crotch.

"too late." it wasn't a very long call with his mother, but there's not even the faintest trace of a boner left. of course. "she killed him."

you sigh and flop down to his side, squeezing your eyes shut. "are we ever actually going to go through with this?" you ask after a few moments of silence. "maybe the fact that we keep getting interrupted is... a sign from the universe or something. we're doomed."

"stop, don't say that." will tilts his head to the side, nose brushing against your cheek. "i think it just makes the anticipation stronger, you know? when it finally happens..." he presses a kiss to your skin. "it'll be worth it."

you sure hope so.

wear something sexy, picking you up in 20. x

the text is simple, but more than enough to leave a dull ache in your core. your thoughts wander too far before you can control them and remind yourself not to jump to any conclusions. this has happened before, you tell yourself; just because you're going to will's apartment doesn't mean gabe won't be there, and it doesn't mean that will or you will automatically be in the mood-

except, you both obviously will be. this sexual tension has been going on for far too long now, and it's been practically impossible to ignore. even just sitting next to each other in the dining hall, or walking down campus together, has been impossible; you've both been wanting to just put your hands on each other already, honestly itching to sneak away into an empty classroom and just get over with it already.

but you'd agreed. you wanted the first time to be proper and special. so, although it was impatiently, you had waited.

just "wearing something sexy" is not as easy as it sounds when you have all of the expectations in the world on your shoulders. granted, you put them there yourself – will probably would've found you just as sexy if you wore a potato sack – but they were still there. you eventually settled on picking out a fancy set of lingerie, deciding that they would be the main attraction anyway, and whatever shirt and pants you wore would hopefully just be discarded sooner rather than later.

there must be a certain spring in your step, because daisy gives you a knowing look once you leave your room and make your way into your shared living room. "you seeing will tonight?" she asks, and you can't help but nod eagerly. "well... i probably don't have to tell you this, but... be safe, okay?"

"of course," you tell her, shooting her a smile just as the doorbell rings. after strutting over to the door and opening it, you throw yourself into your boyfriend's arms instantly. he answers with a huff of laughter and a tight hug.

"you ready to go?" will asks and you nod, hand finding his before turning back to daisy and waving to her.

"don't wait up!" you say, and she shakes her head, grin on her lips.

"of course not."

the ride to will's place is quick, his hand never leaving your knee for even a second. he unlocks the door, holding it open for you, and something feels off about the way the entire apartment is dark – except for a trail of little tealights marking a path to will's bedroom. "where is gabe?" you ask, taking a few wary steps into the space. you're suddenly hit by nerves and the reality of what's going on, though trying your best not to show it.

will shuts the door behind you both, stepping out of his shoes before bending down to undo the laces of yours. "he's with some girl," he answers vaguely, and you give him a pointed look once he's helped you out of your shoes and stood up again.

"coming home when?"

will shakes his head, and the smile on his lips makes you feel relieved instantly. "never. i paid him to sleep somewhere, anywhere, else."

you wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him down to your height. "you're the best," you mumble against his lips before kissing him.

"you just wait." he gives you one last kiss before pulling away, one hand on your lower back guiding you towards his bedroom.

once he pushes his door open, you gasp at the sight. candles everywhere – pillars, tapers, tealights, in all kinds of colors and sizes – and as if that wasn't romantic enough, there are a bunch of rose petals spread on top of his comforter. will shoots you a slight smile once you turn to him, seemingly a little unsure if you like it or if he's overdone it, and your heart flutters in your chest. "this is... lovely. you did all this? for me?"

he nods once, adam's apple bobbing as he swallows.

"seems like a bit of a fire hazard to me," you joke, though it's not completely unserious – but you suppose it would also be quite romantic to pass away because you were too busy making love to notice that the room was on fire.

will just shrugs. "everywhere i go with you puts me at risk of fire since you're so hot."

you give his shoulder a playful shove, but he barely reacts. he stands there, just watching you, so you decide to take matters into your own hands.

you reach for the hem of your shirt, only then noticing that your fingers are trembling slightly – when did that happen? you've been dreaming about this moment for weeks, and now you're suddenly anxious? this is no time to be timid, you tell yourself, so you continue with your plans, slipping the shirt over your head. you drop it to the ground, making sure there are no candles right there, before pulling your jeans off your body as well.

left in just the white, lacy lingerie you'd so carefully picked out, you feel more revealed and seen than ever – it doesn't help that will still hasn't said anything or reacted, either – but you can't turn back now. so you take both of his hands in yours, walking backwards until the back of your legs hit his bed, and you sit down.

"will?" you ask, following the way his eyes slowly move up and down your skin. "where is your mind at?"

he takes a deep breath, gaze finding yours. "can i be honest?" you nod. "i'm... a little nervous."

his sincerity makes your heart flutter. "so am i."

"do you still want to... go through with this?"

you give his hands a squeeze. "more than anything." will seems satisfied by your answer, because he helps you lie down properly against the pillows and then climbs on top of you.

his kisses aren't tentative per se, but they aren't as eager as they were last time you were in this position. it takes a while to warm up before you're both panting against each other's lips, tongues tangling and hands wandering. not that you're in any rush; will wants to take his time with you.

he leaves a trail of wet kisses down your jaw, and then your neck, and then along one of your collarbones. he eventually pushes himself up to sit, legs caging you in. "i forgot something," he says and you slate your head as an answer. "forgot to say how gorgeous you look."

you reach up to give his face a playful slap, but he grabs your wrist.

"i'm serious. you look... straight out of a fairy tale." then, he grimaces. "okay, maybe more like a porno. not the kind of fairy tale i'd show to a child, anyway."

"god, you're awful," you complain, but before you can say anything else, will's free hand has slipped behind your body, sending you a questioning look which you answer with a nod.

he gets the clasp of your bra undone – albeit a bit clumsily with just one hand – and helps the material slide off your arms. his gaze is even more intense now, staring at you like you're something he's been dreaming about for ages. you're just about to give in to the urge to cover yourself up when his mouth returns where it had left off, teeth nibbling and lips sucking on the soft skin of your chest. "thought it couldn't get better," he mumbles, though not stopping his actions for even a second, leaving no inch untouched. he's like a starved man, and it's hard to remember that this exact boy was careful about even touching you a few minutes ago. "but it got a lot better. fuck, you're so hot."

"it's kinda unfair, though," you say, shrugging – or, as much of a shrug as you can manage when you've got a golden retriever man pressing a circle of soft kisses around your nipple. "that you get to see all this, and you're a hockey player with abs and amazing chest muscles, and yet you've still got your shirt on and-"

he doesn't need to hear any more, instantly sitting back on his heels and getting out of his shirt. the material falls to the floor, but he wastes no time before his face is stuffed into your skin again. when his lips wander south, finding the edge of your panties, one hand finds your side, caressing your bare skin. "can i make you feel good?" he asks, hooking a finger of his free hand under the waistband. "is that okay?"

"yeah, just-" you sigh when he pulls the fabric down and off your legs, the cold air against your revealed gender sending a shiver up your spine. "just… hurry, will you?"

will settles between your thighs, his sweet laughter sounding like music to your ears. as his lips find the inside of your thigh, he lets the hand that was on your waist travel south. the first touch of his thumb against your clit makes your hips jerk, as if you've been anticipating this for years. "patient, baby," he chuckles, nose rubbing the space where your leg meets your hips. "we've got all the time in the world."

after drawing tantalizingly slow circles onto your bud for a while, adoring the way you squirm under his touch, he finally moves lower. he collects your wetness on his fingertips before letting one slender finger slide into your core. everything about will is big – he's tall, he's got big muscles and broad shoulders – so it shouldn't be any surprise that his fingers carry some length, too. and yet, it does surprise you. when another finger enters your warmth, he reaches further in than you'd expected, and the stretch when he spreads his fingers feels far too good for just a pair of fingers.

his tongue licks a few stripes up and down your slit while his fingers keep on pumping in and out of you, before his lips settle back on your clit. the combination of sucking, lapping and circling makes your head spin in an embarrassingly short amount of time, and your hands fly down to the back of his head.

"will-" you let out, fingers tangling in his soft blonde curls. "i'm- i'm really close-"

he merely hums as an answer, keeping up his actions until he has you falling apart on his tongue. his chest fills with pride at the feeling of your body convulsing as you reach your high, and the whines mixed with swearwords you let out make him want to stay right here all night. what else could he possibly need in life?

once your breathing has returned to somewhat normal, and you're no longer tugging on his hair so hard he thinks it might fall out, will retracts his face from between your legs and looks up at you. he finds you blinking down at him with just as much lust and love as he's feeling, and warmth spreads through his body.

"you okay up there?" he asks, fingers dancing along your stomach as he leans further up to face you again.

you respond with a hum, hands reaching down to his jeans and beginning to undo his belt. "my turn to make you feel good."

will stops you, fingers wrapping around your wrists. "it's okay," he says with a shake of his head.

you frown. "i wanna get my lips on you, though," you fight back.

"you'll have plenty of time to do that another time." just as you're about to bicker back again, he cups your cheek in his hand and continues. "going down on you was enough for me. honestly, i was seconds away from coming in my own pants just from your taste and sounds." he tilts your head down, letting your gaze wander to his crotch. "see? i'm not even kidding, i'm so hard it's extremely painful."

"just get out of your clothes, then, will you?"

he stands up in less than a second, not even bothering to pull his belt completely out, instead opting for just dragging his jeans and boxers off as quickly as possible. he snatches a condom from his bedside table, pulling the wrapper off and rolling the latex down his length hastily.

"are you sure your phone is off?" you ask when he settles over you again. "you don't have a facetime call scheduled with your mother?"

"god, shut up," he mutters, leaning down to crash his mouth against yours. he bites down on your bottom lip after a few moments, before parting slightly. "don't even mention her, she doesn't exist right now…"

he swallows your giggles, his hands grabbing your hips to angle them properly before parting your legs. "i'm sorry," you tell him, fingers brushing away some of the curls that had fallen into his eyes. "just wanted to make sure no one's going to interrupt."

"i won't let them." will takes a deep breath, sighing softly at the sight of you beneath him; so bare, vulnerable, open; all ready for him. his tip nudges your core. "is this okay? can i…?"

your words fail you, so you nod, tensing up slightly in anticipation. will's gentle kisses to your temple and soft touches along your ribs help soothe you, and soon enough, he starts pushing into you.

ever since you felt his girth in your hands that night in your bedroom, you've been trying to prepare yourself; attempting to remember just how big he was, imagining how he would feel inside you, how the stretch would be... and yet, none of it prepared yourself for this moment right here.

you'd remarked about how big he looked, but he feels much bigger. even after him fingering you, it's like he's splitting you open, and it's taking everything you have not to scream your lungs out. instead, you take it out on his back, letting your nails dig into his muscles hard enough to leave marks – you probably will feel guilty over it later, but right now, your every nerve ending is on fire, so your care is elsewhere.

even with the stretch, though, it feels amazing. maybe it's because of the stretch, or maybe it's just a side character, but something about just feeling him inside you like this is beyond anything you've felt before.

after allowing you to catch your breath for a few moments, will presses his lips to your forehead. "can i move?" he whispers. "or do you need a minute?"

you shake your head. "go ahead," you let out, words half a moan and half a whine.

you feel empty instantly when he pulls out of you, but he makes up for that when he thrusts back into you again. he sets a pace, slow but powerful, and it's easy for you to get used to. his cock drags along your insides to deliciously, having no issues hitting that spot deep inside of you that has you arching your back and pressing your chest up against his.

"you're so-" will groans mid-sentence, nearly losing his mind already. "so tight. feel so fucking good-" he has to really control himself to not shoot his load instantly; to him, it feels like you've had several weeks of foreplay and it all led up to this moment. he's extremely sensitive already, and the way your walls keep on throbbing around him doesn't exactly make him less needy, either.

as his lips find one of your breasts, tongue flicking over your nipple again and again, his hand pulls your knee up to hook it around his hip. the new position allows him more depth and another spot to hit. as if you hadn't already felt so good it was almost painful, the new angle sends a jolt of pleasure through your body every time he pushes inside you. and when his thumb finds your clit again, you're unable to hold back the high-pitched whine that errupts from your throat.

will's brain short-circuited long ago, but at the realization of how good he's making you feel – so good that you're unable to hold back from shaking beneath him and letting out those sweet sounds he's sure he'll come to be obsessed with – he nearly loses it in a second.

"are you anywhere close?" he asks, and your answer comes in the form of yet another trail of nail marks down his back muscles. "because- shit, i'm about to-"

your climax crashes over you before you can react, leaving you a trembling mess beneath him. when your walls clench around him, he has no way of holding back, either. he lets go completely, and the hottest moan you've ever heard leaves his lips as he rides out both of your highs. he then collapses on top of you, but his weight isn't crushing; despite his muscular, hockey player build, it feels grounding to have him so close. to feel his heartbeat thud against your chest, to hear his warm pants right by your ear, to smell his laundry detergent from his covers…

"you feel…" he starts after a few moments of silence, voice a mere breathless whisper, before pushing himself up on his elbows to look down at you. "so, so good."

"you're not too bad yourself," you answer with a weak chuckle, shaking your head.

you reach up with one hand to brush away a few sweaty curls that had stuck to his forehead, before allowing it to cup his cheek in your palm. "i'll go get something to clean you up, okay?"

your nod is answered with a soft kiss pressed to your lips. when will slowly pulls himself out of you, it leaves you with a feeling of emptiness and longing – but the thought of getting to do this all over again makes it a lot better. "hey, will?" you ask just as he rises from the bed.

he looks back at you with eyebrows raised, a gentle flush still prominent on his cheeks.

"i'm glad we ignored the universe."

his expression softened. "never been happier."

609 notes · View notes

atomicami · 4 months ago

Text

party of three

boyfriend’s mom!abby x fem!reader ft. sevika

- summary: after that unforgettable night you spent with your boyfriend’s mother, you make the decision to stay with him just to continue seeing her behind his back. the affair runs smoothly at first—until her best friend gets into the picture.

- content: smut MDNI, no outbreak/modern au, age gap (abby is 38, reader is 20, sevika is 40), reader is in college, abby and sevika are best friends, abby and owen are divorced, reader is still dating abby’s son, infidelity/cheating, threesome (f/f/f), softdom!abby 🤝 roughdom!sevika, fingering & oral (all receiving, r&s giving), strap on usage (r!receiving), abby and sevika take turns hitting it from the back, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, these two women basically own you tbh

- author’s note: you ask, and i deliver. here is the long awaited full version of this drabble that i posted a while back, it took me so long to get this one out for y’all but it’s finally here! now this fic can be read standalone but here is the previous part i wrote if you guys need a refresher. other than that i hope y’all enjoy it :)

(also special thanks to @sunflowerwinds for proofreading this fic for me, ily cherry girl <3)

You should have walked away after that. Any sane person would have. But instead, you stayed.

Not for him, but for her.

It was only supposed to be just a moment of comfort—neither of you had expected for it to grow into something stronger. But you couldn’t leave him, because it meant that you would lose her too. And that was something that you weren’t ready to do.

And frankly, neither was she.

So you stayed, just for the sake of seeing her behind closed doors. It was wrong, and you both knew it. But the moment she would touch you, the moment she would whisper your name like a prayer before pressing her soft lips onto yours—that’s when it felt right.

But what neither of you expected was just how easily someone else could slip into the space between you two—someone who understood exactly what you both desired.

It was like déja vu hit you once again—you sat in your car, parked in the driveway of Abby’s house once again, preparing yourself to go inside. The night was clear this time—a stark contrast to the gloomy thunderstorm that went on when you first showed up that night. It was coincidental, because ever since then, being with Abby made you feel just as calm and clear as the night sky.

You exhale, taking your key out of your ignition and grabbing your bag before getting out of your car. As you exit your vehicle, the sight of a parked black truck catches your eye—one that you haven’t seen before. It wasn’t Abby’s or Andrew’s, which could only mean that Abby had some sort of company. You didn’t give it a second thought though, adjusting your bag on your shoulder as you make your way over to the front door. You ring the bell, and in an instant you can hear a familiar sound of footsteps approaching to answer it. It was almost as if you could sense Abby’s excitement from a distance—a feeling that her son hardly expressed when he’d see you.

The front door opens, and you’re greeted with the sight of Abby standing in front of her, a soft smile plastered on her beautifully freckled face. “Hey there, sweetheart.” she says, leaning in to give you a hug. “Come on in, Andrew is still getting ready but you can wait with us in the meantime.” She gestures toward the living room, and curiosity starts to pique your interest as your head peeks inside. Us? Who could she have brought over?

Once you enter inside, you’re met with the sight of an unrecognizable woman who was seated comfortably on the living room couch—broad shoulders, a sharp jawline, and a striking set of gray eyes. Her hair was at her jawline’s length which framed her facial structure beautifully, and the left side of her face was littered down with scars that made her olive skin stand out even more. A half empty beer bottle rests in her hand, and the low hum of the football game playing on the TV fills the room before Abby’s voice cuts through. “This is Sevika—she’s a close friend of mine.” Abby shuts the door behind you before walking over to the couch and looking over to Sevika. “Sevika, this is my son’s girlfriend.”

Sevika sets her bottle of beer down onto the coffee table. “So this must be the not-so-lucky girlfriend, yeah?” she asks before turning her head to Abby, to which she nods. “Hey there, pretty girl. Name’s Sevika.” she says, offering her hand out to you.

You blush at the name she gives you and reach out to shake her hand as you give her your name. Her palm had felt so large and warm in yours, almost like Abby’s, but maybe a little bit bigger. You let go of her hand and sit down on the love seat next to her, and you can’t but curiously look at her other arm, seeing that it’s entirely replaced with a metal prosthetic. Sevika catches your glance shifting and she looks down at her arm. “Oh, this?” she says, looking back up at you. “I lost it about a decade ago…car accident.”

“Oh,” You hesitate for a moment before meeting her gaze again. “That…that must have been really intense.” you say, your voice gentle.

Sevika simply shakes it off, leaning back against the couch. “It’s alright, I’m just glad to have made it out alive. Besides…” she pauses for a moment before continuing. “My other hand still works just as good.” she says with a wink. You got the joke behind that, of course. But what you didn’t realize was how well she was going to prove that point soon.

Abby sits back down on the couch next to Sevika, leading you to switch the subject. “So, how long have you two known each other for?” you ask them curiously.

“Since college,” Sevika replies, turning her head towards Abby. Abby’s gaze matches with hers, and she starts to chuckle while shaking her head, almost as if she was reminiscing a moment. “Yeah…I guess you could say she was sort of my…awakening.”

Sevika was in the process of turning her head back to you, but she turns back to Abby again and raises an eyebrow at her. “Sort of?”

Abby sighs dramatically and laughs as she playfully nudges Sevika’s shoulder. “Alright alright, she was my awakening. But it was just that one time way back then.”

Sevika hums, a smirk growing on her lips as she reaches over for her beer and takes a swift sip from it. “One time was sure enough to rock your world though.”

Abby rolls her eyes at her but she doesn’t deny it, and you can’t help but feel the heat creep up in the back of your neck—and between your thighs as their history piques your curiosity even more.

“We didn’t have much back then,” Sevika says, taking another sip of her beer. “But I was sure able to do my job without the parts that were necessary.”

The realization clicks in an instant. Your mind flashes back to the first night you spent with Abby—the way she touched you like she knew exactly what you liked, the way she pressed herself against you just right, just enough to make you fall apart and come undone underneath her…it was all so perfectly executed, so well practiced—maybe a little too well practiced.

She learned it from her.

Your gaze flickers over to Sevika, watching as she takes another slow sip of her beer, her expression unreadable. But there’s something there—something in the way she looks at you, like she already knows what you’re thinking. Like she wants you to say it out loud.

Sevika’s voice cuts through the air, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Tell me about you, pretty girl. You in school?”

“Yeah,” you say, leaning back slightly. “I’m in my third year now.”

“Halfway point, huh?” Sevika takes a sip from her beer, eyeing you with a casual but interested look in her eye. “You’ll be at the finish line before you know it.”

“Yeah, exactly, you say, nodding in agreement. “I still feel like I have so much left to figure out though.”

Abby chimes in from her side of the couch, grinning knowingly. “You’ve got time, sweetheart.” she says with a soft chuckle. “And you’ll do just fine.”

You smile, appreciating her reassurance. But before the conversation can continue, you hear footsteps coming from upstairs. A familiar voice calls your name—your boyfriend’s voice—and you feel a sudden shift in the air, the tension of the situation lingering in the back of your mind.

“Hey, babe!” Andrew calls out casually, the usual smugness laced in his tone as he did so. “You ready to go?”

Your expression falters in an instant, nose wrinkling up while your lips pressed together in a fine line full of grimace before you catch yourself and quickly shake things off. You let out a sigh as you stand up from the couch. “Yeah, let’s head out.” you reply flatly.

Sevika doesn’t miss it. Her gaze stays fixed on you as she observes your every move, the corner of her lips twitching into a subtle smirk as she did so. She doesn’t say anything as to not interfere, but she doesn't look away either, her gaze burning on you to where you could feel it from behind.

As you push yourself up from the couch, a sharp smack lands on your backside. Your body tenses instantly, irritation bubbling up inside you as you whip your head around. Andrew just stands there with that stupid grin on his face, completely oblivious—or maybe he just doesn’t care—about the way your jaw tightens, how your fingers curl into your palm in fists, fingernails digging into your skin as you hold back the urge to hit him away from you.

“Jesus, Andrew,” Abby says, shaking her head in disbelief. “Show some damn respect for her, will you?”

He simply shrugs, rolling his eyes in the most nonchalant way as if she was the one making a big deal about it. “Relax, Mom, it’s just a joke.” he shuffles his way over to the front door to head out. “C’mon babe, we’re already late to the party.” he says, opening the door.

You scoff behind his back, rolling your eyes. “That’s because you’re always so damn long to get ready,” you quietly mumble to yourself. Andrew was too stubborn to have overheard it, but you could hear a soft chuckle coming from Sevika, however you think nothing of it and move on.

Andrew steps out of the door and heads outside, and before you were about to follow him, a gentle tug on your arm keeps you from moving forward. You stop in your tracks and look over to Abby, who was rising up from the couch to shift closer to you. “Remember sweetheart, if he starts misbehaving tonight, you let me know, okay?” she says, giving you a wink.

A smirk crept up on the corner of your lips when she said that. You knew exactly what she had meant.

It took a while for you and Abby to have figured it out at first, but eventually you two decided on this particular arrangement—to stay with her douchebag son just to continue seeing her behind his back, and to let her know about any sort of trouble he’ll cause when he’s with you, because she can easily make it up to you without thinking twice. It didn’t matter how big or small the issue would be—if Andrew ended up upsetting you in any way, shape or form—Abby would be quick to take matters into the bedroom with you to apologize for her son’s actions. After all, it was the least she could do, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy it herself.

You give her a smile, gently squeezing her hand in reassurance before she lets go. “I’ll be sure to let you know, Ms. Anderson.” you reply to her.

You say your goodbyes to Abby and Sevika before heading outside, closing the front door shut behind you. As you watch your boyfriend make his way over to his car, you can’t help but wish that he’ll screw up the night for you just so you can get a taste of his mother’s forgiveness later on.

── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☽⋅⋆ ──

Your wish was already coming true in an instant.

The party was in full swing, music blasting within the thin walls, voices blending into the atmosphere. The house completely reeked of liquor and cheap cologne, making you feel as if you were being smothered by the thickness of it. It’s only been an hour, and all you wanted to do was get out of here and go home.

You push through the drunken crowd, trying to squeeze through the tight gaps between bodies until someone accidentally stumbles and spills their drink on you. All you could in that moment do was sigh and just keep moving. Andrew had disappeared a while ago, leaving you stranded in a house full of strangers. Going to this stupid party was his idea to begin with—you didn’t know, or even care about anyone here. On the contrary, all you had really wanted to do on a Saturday night like this was to stay at home and lie in bed—particularly his mother’s bed.

After a while of searching through the packed household, you finally spot him slumped over on an old leather couch, a half empty beer bottle dangling from his fingers.

But he’s not alone.

There’s a girl draped over him, her manicured fingers lazily playing with the fabric of his shirt as she leans into him, whispering something in his ear. He doesn’t react much aside from a drunken chuckle as his head tilts to rest against hers. You’re not sure if he knows her—or even cares.

Your jaw clenches as a bitter taste fills your mouth, but you’re quick to take a deep breath to ground yourself. There’s no point in confronting him. It’s a waste of your time and energy, both of which can be used on something better. So instead, you pull out your phone as you turn on your heel, dialing Abby’s number in an instant.

The line barely rings twice before Abby picks up. “Hey there, sweetheart,” she greets, her voice warm enough to alleviate you from the chills that traveled through your body. “Is everything alright?”

You hesitate, glancing back at Andrew as he exchanges another drunken laugh between the girl beside him before turning back around. “Not really…Can you come pick me up, please?”

There’s a brief pause, and you can hear the faint chatter of the TV in the background followed by Sevika’s groans and protests over whatever that was happening on screen. You hear Abby hum softly before replying. “Of course, honey. I’ll be right there.”

You hang up, slipping the phone into your pocket. Despite how rocky the night began, at least now, it was about to end exactly how you wanted.

It didn’t take long for your phone to ring again, screen lit up with Abby’s name. You answer quickly.

“I’m outside,” she says, her voice steady but firm.

Relief washes over you just for a moment, until the sense of obligation quickly replaces it. You glance back over to the mess of a living room where Andrew is still passed out and sigh in annoyance. “Okay, um, hold on a second so I can get—”

“No.” Abby cuts you off, her voice quickly going stern. “I’m here for you, sweetheart. Just you.”

“But what about—”

“He’ll be fine.” She reassures you firmly. “I already called Owen to pick him up. I’m not gonna be dealing with that tonight.” She says it in a way that shows that her son was the least of her priorities tonight—that he was more of an inconvenience rather than a concern.

You pause for a moment as her words settle into your chest. You exhale slowly, glancing at Andrew one last time before opening the door. He won’t even notice you’re gone.

The cool night air hits your skin once you step outside, finally giving you a moment to breathe after being cramped in the thick air of the party for the past hour. As you look up, you’re welcomed by the sight of Abby leaning against the open passenger door of a black truck—the same black truck that was parked in her driveway not too long ago. You take a closer look, eyes widening when you see Sevika sitting behind the wheel with an amused look on her face.

The sight of the two women together sends a mix of relief and anticipation coursing through your veins. Abby’s expression softens once she meets your eyes. “There you are. I was starting to think I’d have to come in and save you myself.” she says gently, giving you a smile.

Sevika, on the other hand, simply jerks her chin toward the passenger seat. “Get in, pretty girl. Don’t wanna waste gas waiting on your sorry excuse of a boyfriend.”

You don’t hesitate. With one last glance at the house you’re leaving behind, you move toward the truck, letting the door shut on the night and on Andrew without a second thought.

You step up into the truck, sliding into the middle seat while Abby hops in behind you and shuts the door with a soft thud. The space that was once between them disappears in an instant now that you were there, pressed between Abby’s present warmth and Sevika’s quiet intensity. Abby’s hand meets with your knee in a gentle and reassuring grip—almost as if she’s done this before. You barely register the comfort of it before Sevika shifts in her seat beside you, the warm fingers of her human hand gently brushing over your bare thigh in the process. You assume it’s unintentional, but the heat that her touch leaves behind lingers on your skin, sending a slow shiver down your spine.

The rest of the ride back home is quiet, but the tension between the three of you continues to roar inside the truck. As Abby and Sevika exchange the occasional hum of conversation, you remain situated in their place between them, completely aware of every shift of their bodies. Abby’s palm stays warm and steady on your knee, giving you a strong sense of comfort. However, Sevika’s touches are more teasing, almost in a way that makes you wonder if she's doing it by accident or not. Her fingers brushing over your thigh when she adjusts the gearshift, her thigh pressing against yours when she stretches—it’s enough to make you think if she could be desiring the same thing right now.

By the time you arrive at Abby’s house, your pulse is unsteady, and your breath feels tight in your chest. The three of you exit Sevika’s truck and step inside, the warmth of the house settling around you. Sevika rolls out her shoulders as she picks up her jacket that was draped over the couch. “Well,” she exhales, slipping her other hand into her pocket. “I should probably head out.”

Abby hums, tilting her head slightly. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” Sevika nods. “Thanks for having me over.”

She’s still standing close to you, her fingers briefly brushing over lower back as she shifts past you to get to the front door. Her touch was brief, yet intentional. You swallow as the heat starts to coil in your stomach. Before Sevika can take another step, you speak up, the words slipping past your lips before you could even second guess saying them.

“You should stay,” you tell her.

Sevika stops mid-step, and both her and Abby turn over to look at you. Abby raises a brow, an amused look behind her eyes, while Sevika lets out a quiet shuckle, shaking her head slightly. “Oh yeah?” Sevika muses, her voice low and testing. She shifts toward your direction, tossing her jacket back onto the armrest of the couch before pressing her weight against it. “You sure about that, pretty girl?”

The challenge in Sevika’s tone sends a shiver down your spine. You swallow dryly, your heart pounding in your chest, but you don’t back down.

“Yeah,” you reply, voice steadier this time. “Stay with us.”

And so Sevika stays. She even makes herself comfortable too—leaning back against the armrest, her arms now crossing over her chest like she belongs here. Abby watches her, then watches you, all with a subtle amused expression on her face as if she already knows where this is headed.

You should sit down. You should relax. But you don’t. Instead, you remain standing, the anticipation causing your skin to erupt in goosebumps. It’s Abby who makes the first move—slow and concentrated as she steps closer to you from behind. Her fingers slowly brush your arm before leaning in just enough for you to hear her command. “Come on,” Abby murmurs, tilting her head toward the hallway that leads to her bedroom.

Sevika doesn’t move right away. She just watches, an amused smirk growing on her lips as she shifts her gaze between the two of you. She then lifts her weight off the arm rest to step closer to you, just enough for you to feel the heat of her body radiating against yours, and for her metal knuckles to brush over your hip again. Except this time, it wasn’t accidental. “You lead the way, sweetheart.” Sevika says, gesturing you toward the staircase.

You don’t do it just yet. Instead, you take a couple small steps back, eyes flickering between the two women before taking each of their hands into one of yours. You cautiously walk backwards as you approach the staircase, hand in hand with each of them. Abby is the first to fall into step in front of you, while Sevika lingers just beside her, close enough for you to hear the faintest chuckle under her breath, as if she already knows exactly what’s coming next.

The three of you arrive at Abby’s bedroom, and Abby briefly lets go of your hand before opening her door to the two of you. You enter inside with her, Sevika following right behind before shutting the door with her other hand. While still holding Sevika’s hand, you use your free hand to grab Abby by the collar of her shirt and pull her towards you in a deep kiss. Sevika lets go of your hand as she watches the two of you, but you’re quick to sense the loss of her touch and you pull away from Abby to turn to her and give her a kiss as well. For such a rugged woman like her, you were surprised to discover how soft Sevika’s lips were on yours—the kind of softness that would have you melting into her for more. The hair on the back of your neck quickly stands once Abby approaches you from behind. She brushes your hair over your shoulder, and begins to plant soft kisses on your bare skin as her hands meet with the zipper of your dress. However, her hand stills for a moment when she notices Sevika pulling away from you. “You sure about this, sweetheart? Bringing me in?” she asks, her head tilting slightly. “Because once we start, I’m not gonna be going easy on you.”

Abby scoffs and rolls her eyes back at her. “Don’t listen to her, sweetheart.” she says soothingly. “We’ll go at your pace, yeah?”

You nod at the two women, looking back at Sevika in reassurance. “I’m sure. I want you both here.”

Sevika lets out a low chuckle, stepping closer towards you as her fingers graze over your waist. “We’ll see about that.”

Her words are followed by the sound of a zipper, and you glance over to catch Abby unzipping your dress through your peripherals, a subtly desperate look in her blue eyes as she does so. Once the zipper reaches the end, she slides the dress off your body until it hits the ground, the fabric now pooling at your feet as you stand there fully exposed in nothing but the black thong that rested on your waist and hips. Sevika’s eyes darkened at the sight of your breasts, then bringing her gaze down to the rest of your figure. “My God…” she whispers, tracing the fingers of her flesh hand down the curves of your breast, waist and hip. “You look like a goddamn work of art, pretty girl.”

Abby chuckles over Sevika’s reaction as she presses another kiss on your shoulder. “She sure is a keeper, isn’t she?”

Sevika hums, briefly glancing at Abby before back at you. “Can’t believe your kid isn’t giving this pretty girl the attention she needs, Anderson.” she pauses for a moment before continuing. “If she were mine, I’d be worshipping her every damn second she’s with me.”

Your cheeks heat up a little over Sevika’s praise, and you inch a little closer to her to bring your hands over to the hem of her shirt. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re here with us now, Sevika.” you whisper back to her. Once your fingers meet with her shirt you attempt to pull it over her, to which she assists you in doing so. Sevika pulls the shirt over her head before tossing it to the ground, and you can’t help but fawn over her physique in pure lust. She was just as jacked as Abby, maybe a tiny bit bulkier, and her olive skin was littered with scars on her chest and torso. Despite how battle worn she resembled, it only made you more desperate for her.

You turn around to look over at Abby, chuckling once you also catch her admiring Sevika as well. You do the same with her, lifting her shirt up by the hem and tossing it over her, smiling at the ripped freckled physique you were familiar with seeing. A sudden squeeze on your hip startles you, causing you to glance back over at Sevika. “Sit behind Anderson, pretty girl.” She commands, jerking her head over to the bed. A subtle smirk grows on Abby’s face, and she brings one of your hands into hers as she follows you towards the bed. She then kicks off her shoes and discards her pants from her legs. You watch as she mounts onto the bed, accommodating the pillows before settling herself down, keeping the space in between her legs open for you to join her. You hesitate for a moment, glancing over at Sevika to see her tilting her head towards Abby with a smirk on her face. With that, your body instinctively follows along, kicking off your heels onto the floor before getting into bed and positioning yourself in front of Abby with your back against her chest. Sevika’s the last one to go in, settling herself on her stomach with her face already in between your legs. Her metal and flesh fingers trail up your thighs and hips to hook them underneath the waistband of your underwear, causing your breath to hitch at the contact. You press your palms on Abby’s thighs to lift up your hips, allowing Sevika to slide the underwear off of you in one fluid motion. Then, as if it were a reflex, your legs naturally spread themselves open right in front of her. Sevika lets out a soft groan, her gaze getting hungrier once they meet with the sight of your soaking wet pussy.

Sevika didn’t delay any longer after that. She’s quick to dive right in, her tongue licking a long, experimental stripe up your cunt. A soft moan elicits from your mouth over the sensation, followed by a whimper once Sevika tightens her grip on your thighs and yanks you closer to her mouth, her tongue continuing to lick slow strokes through your pussy. Abby leans over you and gives Sevika a gentle squeeze on her forearm, provoking her to slightly lift up her head. “Hey, be gentle with her, okay?” she murmurs, slowly loosening her grip on her before leaning back against the headboard. “She’s a sensitive girl.”

Sevika clicks her tongue and shakes her head, almost in a way that she might not be able to stick with Abby's directions. “Can’t make any promises on that, Anderson,” she replies, letting her flesh hand go from your thigh so she can run a finger through your wet slit. “Especially when she tastes this good.”

Without warning, Sevika inserts a finger into your soaking cunt. You initially jerk back at the sudden sensation, before slowly easing into it, your hole gently clenching itself around her finger. Sevika is quick to slowly pump her finger in and out of your pussy while latching her mouth back onto your throbbing clit, and as she does so, Abby trails her hands up and down your torso before pausing at your breasts, gently stroking and squeezing them as Sevika continues to eat your pussy out in a painfully slow, yet rough manner. Her lips wrap around your clit even tighter and her finger starts to harshly curl against your g spot, causing you to whine at the sudden pressure.

“Sevika, I said be gentle,” Abby reminds her from behind, gently caressing your breasts as she watches Sevika’s movements. “I told you she’s sensitive.”

Sevika grunts back at her, briefly removing her mouth off of your throbbing clit to speak to her. “Where’s the fun in that, Anderson?” she replies as she inserts a second finger into your soaked cunt, admiring how you squirmed and whined at her touch. “Look at how much she likes it…pretty girl seems to be enjoying herself from the looks of it.”

While Abby and Sevika may present themselves in similar ways, you realize that they are both completely different in bed. Abby was the gentle type, who’d always touch you and handle your body with care as if you were a porcelain doll that could shatter at any moment. Sevika, on the other hand, was the opposite. She’s been manhandling the hell out of your thighs and pussy for the past ten minutes now, as if you had now turned into a ragdoll that could easily be thrown around the bed.

But if there’s one thing the two women have in common…it’s that making you cum was going to be their number one priority.

“You okay, beautiful?” Abby purrs into your ear, gently planting kisses on the back of your neck as Sevika continues to finger your cunt. “Is Sevika taking good care of you?”

You nod with a whine, and while Abby took that as a valid answer, Sevika sure didn’t. Her metal hand gripped your inner thigh harshly, causing you to jerk back at her once more. “Answer her question, sweetheart.” she mused, her steel gray eyes staring you down.

“Y-Yes! Please keep going, Sev…” you whine back to her. Sevika hummed, bringing her gaze back down to your gushing pussy as her fingers continued to pump at its standard pace. “Such a pretty pussy, baby…it’s crazy how Anderson’s kid can get to taste this whenever he wants.”

“Yeah, about that…” Abby chimes in, stifling a laugh. “It’s just me who does that. Andrew always refuses to do it.”

Sevika scoffed and shook her head in disbelief, her fingers slowing down their movements inside you. “You’re fucking lying.” Her eyes shift back over to you. “She’s lying, right?”

You look down at Sevika with a straight face, slowly shaking your head. “I-It’s true…h-he never does…”

Sevika couldn’t help herself. She starts to laugh, still unable to wrap her head around it. “Jesus, Anderson, your kid is pretty stupid for that. Who wouldn’t wanna get a taste of this gorgeous girl?” She leans in and licks another stripe up your pussy, letting out a groan as she savored the arousal that caught on her taste buds. “She tastes like fucking heaven.”

“That’s exactly what I had told her.” Abby replied. “But what can I say? He’s self-absorbed just like his father, and I sure can’t fix his stupidity either.”

You whined as your pussy clenched tightly around Sevika’s thick fingers. It felt insane to think about it, but the fact that Abby and Sevika were talking shit about your boyfriend like this couldn’t help but turn you on even more. However, Sevika was quick to sense your actions as her gaze dropped back down to your pussy. “Did you just clench around me?” she asks, looking back up at you. Her fingers began to speed up a little now, causing a whimper to escape from your throat as you clutch onto Abby’s bicep. “Seems like she’s getting off on hearing us talk shit about her stupid boyfriend.”

Abby chuckles, leaning in to press a gentle kiss on your cheek. “It’s because she knows it’s true. Besides, she’s got two women right here who’s gonna give her all the pleasure her body needs tonight.”

Sevika smirks, using her metal hand to spread your thighs out farther for her. “In that case, you better buckle up, princess…because we’re just getting started.”

With that, Sevika’s fingers speed up into your pussy even faster. You’re caught completely off guard by the sudden action, jerking back against her once more only for your hips to involuntarily grind against her and for your cunt to clench around her fingers once more. Sevika chuckles and watches you closely, relishing over how willing your body has become for her touch. “Can’t believe you even let him touch you,” she says, shaking her head. “Bet a pathetic boy like him doesn’t even know what to do with you.”

Abby hums in agreement, pressing another kiss on your shoulder as she starts to roll your hardened nipples in between her fingers. “But it was never about my son, was it, sweetheart?” she muses, a subtle smirk growing on her lips. “You always did have a clever way of getting what you want.”

“That so?” Sevika grins back, her voice getting rougher as she looks at you. “Then maybe it’s time that you really got what you wanted.”

A third finger slides into you, and a cry elicits from your mouth at the stretch. Your hands fly down to Abby’s thighs, nails digging into her soft freckled skin as your own thighs instinctively close around Sevika’s hand. “S-Sev…t-too much…” you whine out to her.

Sevika simply laughs, shaking her head tauntingly at your direction. “Oh no, you don’t get to close out on me, princess.” she says, forcing your legs back open with her metal arm and folding them up to your chest. “You wanted me to stay, remember? So you’re gonna take what I give you.”

Her fingers move relentlessly after that, and her head dips back down to suck on your clit. You’re quick to reach your peak as the coil in your stomach gets tighter with each passing second. Abby tries to coo and praise you as she continues to softly kiss you and hold your breasts, but her gentle actions do nothing to sublimate the intensity of Sevika’s fingers ramming in and out of your cunt. The combined sounds of your pitchy whines and the squelching sounds of your pussy filling the bedroom were borderline filthy. You try to tell Sevika that you’re close, give her some sort of warning—but you just can’t get the words out of your mouth. Sevika lifts her mouth off your clit and replaces it with the thumb of her metal hand while the rest of her arm keeps your thighs pinned up, the cold metal causing the rest of your body to shiver. “What’s wrong, princess?” she grins, tilting her head slightly as she watches you struggle. “Can’t get the words out?”

“I…I—” you’re cut off with another whine as Sevika’s fingers continue grazing over your g spot. All you could do was whine and writhe under her grasp, clawing for some sort of escape from the stimulation. Abby releases one of her hands from your breasts and brings it up to your jaw, tilting it to face her. “It’s okay, beautiful. You don’t have to say it.”

Sevika clicks her tongue in disagreement, pushing her fingertips harder inside you—as if she was trying to make you struggle even more to speak to her. “C’mon, princess. Use that pretty mouth of yours for something other than whining.”

Abby rolls her eyes and shakes her head, pressing a slow kiss to your jaw as her soothing voice remains intact. “Shh, it’s okay. We already know what you need.”

Sevika groans as her gaze shifts over to Abby. “Yeah, but I still wanna hear her say it.” She looks back over to you. “Go on, princess…say it.”

Your voice feels lodged in your throat, more gasps and whines slipping from it until finally—you get the words out. Or—you try to.

“S-Sevika, I…I-’m gonna—”

But it was too late. The stimulation gets to your body before you could even get the words out of your mouth. Without warning, a stream of release spurts out of your pussy and soaks up Sevika’s arm and Abby’s bed sheets in the process. Your thighs tremble under her grasp, back arching off of Abby’s chest as your eyes flutter shut and the rest of your face contorts in pure pleasure.

An astonished look is spread across Sevika’s face, her movements still not faltering inside you as your cunt continues to spasm and squirt all over her hand. “That’s it, pretty girl…let it all out for us.” she praised, her voice in a low, wicked purr. “Fuck, she looks so beautiful like this. So fucking perfect.” Her eyes fawn over your contorted face, taking in the way your back arched, your tits thrusting out and your mouth open into a silent scream of ecstasy. As your orgasm begins to subside, your body goes completely boneless on top of Abby. Sevika’s flesh fingers quickly withdraw from your cunt while her metal arm loosens its grip from the backs of your thighs. With her fingers still coated in your release, she brings them up to her mouth to suck them clean, her eyes briefly closing shut as she savors your taste. When she pulls them away from her lips, her voice is now laced with satisfaction. “Sweet girl. Just like I thought.” She’s quick to dive back into your cunt, her tongue lapping quickly on the surface as she cleans you off from the rest of your release. Sevika presses a final lingering kiss against your inner thigh, smirking as she looks back up at you. “No wonder you had Abby wrapped around your little finger.” she muses as she sat back up. “Think I might just keep you for myself.”

Your breath is still uneven, body still pliant against Abby’s as the aftershocks pulse through you. You barely have the strength to meet her gaze, but once you do, the heat in your eyes makes your stomach flip once more. Abby’s fingers trace slow circles over your shoulder, keeping you grounded as you slowly shift back to reality. She then reaches over to your jaw, cupping it gently as her blue eyes search for yours. “Still with us, sweetheart?” she asks softly, to which you reply to her with a whiny nod.

Sevika watches the two of you intently, and amused look on her face as she watches your fucked out self. “Oh, she’s with you alright. But let’s see if she can keep up, yeah?”

Once you catch your breath, your head drags over to face Sevika, who was now kneeling with a dark grin on her face. “I…I can handle it.” you pant out to her.

Sevika lets out a chuckle, shaking her head in disagreement. “Oh, yeah? We’ll see about that, pretty girl.”

Abby scoffs, playfully glaring back at Sevika before looking back down at you. “Ignore her. She likes to pretend she doesn’t have a soft side.”

Sevika simply raises an eyebrow, smirking as she crosses her arms over her chest. “And you like pretending you don’t want me to ruin her.”

Abby just smirks back at her, but she tilts her head just a bit in thought—as if an idea had just clicked into place. Her fingers trail gently up and down your arm, her touch light as a feather in comparison to Sevika’s rough hands from earlier. “Sevika sure made you feel good, didn’t she, sweetheart?” she purrs, leaning in closer to you.

Your breath hitches at her question, only mustering up the energy to answer her with a small nod. Sevika scoffs and shakes her head, shifting her weight against the mattress. “Oh, come on—”

Abby cuts her off with a hum, almost as if she had expected that reaction from her. Her fingers tilt your chin just enough to make you look at her. “I think she deserves a thank you, don’t you think?”

Sevika scoffs once more, rolling her eyes. “Oh please, I don’t need–”

“Don’t need what?” Abby asks, tilting her head slightly in amusement.

Sevika exhales through her nose, crossing her arms over her chest as if she couldn’t care less. But her gaze flickers over to you, watching you carefully. You shift, mustering the energy to sit yourself up from Abby’s lap, your pulse still pounding in your ears. You wanted to do it, not just to thank her—but to see her fall apart. You wanted to see how Sevika’s composure can slip, to see just how deep that soft spot of hers can be, no matter how much she denies it.

The click of Sevika’s tongue shakes you out of your thoughts as she leans in towards you. “You don’t have to do that for me, sweetheart.” she says, her voice quieter this time.

You swallow, your lips parting slightly as your eyes stay fixed on hers. “I want to do it, Sev.” you murmur back to her.

Sevika’s jaw tenses, just for a bit—but the rest of her doesn’t falter as she raises an eyebrow at you, her smirk still plastered on her face. “...Yeah? Is that so?”

You nod in response, and Abby leans in from behind to press a kiss to your shoulder. “That’s my girl.” she murmurs softly, brushing your hair to your other shoulder. “Go on, beautiful, you know what to do.”

Sevika doesn’t stop you this time. She watches as you sit up and approach her, already prepared for you to lean in and give her a tender kiss. Her lips melt against yours, and her hand trails down to your ass to give it a gentle squeeze, causing you to whimper softly against her. She pulls away to sit herself up against the headboard next to Abby, but impatience starts to fill you as your hands meet with the buttons of her jeans. You sense some shifting from above, and you look up to see that Sevika has discarded her bra off to the side. Your eyes widen at the sight of her breasts, large and enticing to your gaze. Your lips part open, and you lift up one of your hands from her jeans to hold her breast, gently squeezing it before leaning in to latch your mouth onto her nipple. Sevika lets out a low groan at the sensation of your warm mouth on her chest. She gently runs her flesh hand down your head and upper back before bringing it down to her jeans to unbutton them.

Your mouth quickly switches over to her other breast, but before you could give it the attention it was needing, a rough tap against your forearm brings you out of focus. You pull away from Sevika’s chest and bring your gaze down to her lap, gasping softly once you see the sight below you. A dark purple strap attached to her hips through a black harness, its length thick and protruding, showing a sign that it needed something to fill. Arousal starts to flourish out your cunt once more, dripping down your inner thighs as your mind wanders on how you could possibly be able to take something this big.

Abby lets out a sigh next to you and you look over to see her shaking her head in disbelief. “That is way too big for her, Sevika,” she says, her voice slightly laced with concern as she wraps a firm hand around the length to take a closer look at it. “You’ll break her with something like this.”

Sevika scoffed and shook her head in disagreement. “That’s what you think.” She brings her gaze back down to her lap and begins to unbuckle the harness. “But let’s save that part for later, yeah?”

You didn’t want to admit it, but Abby was right. Even though Sevika might know her way around any woman’s body, Abby was the one who knew yours the best. She knew what made you melt, what pushed you too far, how much you could handle—and she knew that this would be more than what you could take.

But Sevika was going to prove her wrong very soon.

However, she wasn’t going to be worrying about that just yet. Sevika finishes removing her strap and sets it down next to her before shimmying off her pants and boxers in one motion. You watch with a hooded gaze as her legs spread out slowly on the bed, your eyes darkening at the sight of her cunt. It was a sight for sore eyes—her brown folds were puffy, glistening with her own arousal, and topped off with a trimmed patch of hair as the overall musk of it filled the room in an instant. Sevika’s pussy elicited a primal hunger inside of you, and you’re quick to lie down onto the bed and settle yourself in between her thick thighs. Your head slowly dips in, tongue darting out to lick a slow and savory stripe up her cunt, your eyes closing in pure bliss as Sevika’s arousal clings onto your taste buds. A low groan slips from Sevika’s mouth, her body instantly going soft from your touch. Her hips lift slightly, instantly offering herself to you, silently begging for more of your mouth onto her aching cunt. Your lips move up to gently suck onto Sevika’s throbbing clit, and the two of you could have sworn that she let out a whimper. Abby simply chuckles as she watches the sinful sight of the two of you unfold in front of her. “Well, would you look at that? I think my pretty girl has you melting, Sev.”

Sevika shook her head, shifting around as she tried to maintain her composure underneath you. “Don’t flatter yourself, Anderson.”

Abby laughs at her, crossing her arms over her chest as her eyes flicker between you and Sevika. “Oh, I don’t have to. You’re doing that all on your own.”

Sevika narrows her eyes down at the blonde woman, her mouth opening to spit back at her only to be cut off by another soft groan once your tongue slides inside her cunt. Her jaw clenches in an attempt to restrain herself, but her body betrays her, hips twitching further against your mouth. A shaky exhale slips from her lips, her eyes darkening as her gaze snaps back down to you. “F-Fuck, just like that…Don’t stop.”

Abby shifts closer to Sevika to watch the two of you, continuing to spur Sevika on as she brings a hand down to tuck a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “You should see yourself, Sev. Maybe you do have a soft spot after all.”

Another low grunt escapes from Sevika’s throat as your tongue swirls around her cunt, the tension in her body continuing to betray her. She doesn't even bother talking back to Abby and brings her focus back to you, her human fingers tangling in your hair as her breath continues to stutter. “Keep going, pretty girl. Just like that.”

You moan softly over her praises, the vibrations from your mouth stimulating her cunt in the most exquisite way. Sevika groans at the sensation, her eyes snapping shut as she tips her head back against the headboard.

Abby continues to watch the two of you, admiring how you both became lost in each other’s pleasure as if it were a trance. Her gaze drops back down to you—your body splayed face down on the bed, eyes closed in complete bliss as your tongue continues to flutter over Sevika’s puffy wet cunt, getting a fresh taste of her arousal with every jerk of her hips. Then, almost instinctively—your back arches off the mattress, leaving your ass perked up into the air—and an idea sparking into Abby’s mind.

The two of you don’t even register Abby’s movements around the bedroom—the weight shifting on the bed, the sound of soft footsteps on the ground, followed by the sound of her nightstand drawer—raises no curiosity to you and Sevika whatsoever.

The weight shifts around the bed once more—particularly right behind you. You think nothing of it at first—until a sudden pressure begins to stretch into your cunt. You gasp, and your mouth briefly parts away from Sevika’s pussy, curious to find the source of this familiar stretch. You glance over your shoulder to see Abby kneeling behind, now fully nude with her strap buckled around her hips, the tip of it already teasing into your cunt. She keeps her hands firm on your hips, slowly pushing her strap inch by inch until it reaches the base. A low moan slips from your mouth once she bottoms out, the stretch of her cock filling your cunt already making you go dizzy. Abby smirks once she sees the already fucked out look that was spreading onto your face. “You should see yourself, princess. Looks like you missed having my cock in you, yeah?” she asks, to which you reply with a whiny nod. Without even warning you, Abby begins to slowly thrust her cock in and out of you, causing your eyes to roll back in pleasure.

The headspace didn’t last for long when a sharp tap against your cheek pulled you back from the fog that Abby’s cock had you drowning in. It’s not harsh, but firm enough to make your eyes snap back open, to remind you that there’s still someone else waiting on you. Sevika’s smirk is lazy, her eyes still dark with lust as her calloused fingers squish your cheeks, making your lips pout while it’s still glistening with her arousal. “Did I say you could stop, pretty girl?” she asks sternly, tilting her head slightly.

Your lips part open to respond to her, but Abby thrusts into your pussy once more, causing only a broken whine to come out instead. You shake your head at Sevika, and her grip loosens on your face just to move to the back of your head, fingers now tangling in your hair. “That’s what I thought.” Her hand begins to push your head back into her neglected cunt once more. “Get back in there, princess. I’m still not done with you.”

All you can do is oblige, allowing Sevika’s cunt to stuff your mouth while Abby’s cock stuffed your cunt. Once your tongue slides back inside her, Sevika takes full control of your mouth, keeping your face buried into her pussy as she fucks herself onto your tongue, desperate groans and grunts of pleasure slipping from her mouth with every thrust of her hips. She can feel every inch of your tongue, every flick and swirl sending shockwaves of ecstasy through her body. Her clit throbs as she grinds herself harder against your mouth, chasing the sweet release that was bound to happen at any moment. However, you also couldn’t miss the sounds that Abby made from behind either, the breathy pants and gasps escaping her lips as the strap deliciously rubs against her clit every time she thrusts it into your hungry cunt. Your body shifts back and forth between the two women despite the firm grips they had on you, practically using you as a toy for their own pleasure.

Sevika is quick to get close, her grip on your hair tightening, holding you firmly in place as she continues to grind her cunt, her low groans shifting into desperate cries with each passing second. Her strong thighs quiver on the sides of your head, her body tensing as you feel her rapidly approaching climax. Abby continues to thrust her cock steadily into your dripping pussy from behind, the obscene sound of her hips slapping against your ass filling the bedroom.

Your brain starts to feel like mush as you’re lost into the pleasure of the two women using your body for their own satisfaction. The sensation of Abby’s strap sliding in and out of your dripping cunt combined with the salty taste of Sevika’s arousal filling your mouth is almost too much for you to handle. You can feel your own climax building quickly as your walls start to tense and spasm around Abby’s thick length.

A string of incoherent moans and curses coming from above hit your eardrums as Sevika thrusts her hips further into your face, her pussy clenching as she hits the brink of her orgasm. With a loud cry of your name, her body goes rigid as she finally comes undone. Her pussy clenches once more around your tongue, gushing and pulsing as her release floods onto your mouth and chin. The intensity of her climax causes her thighs to brutally shake around your head, her fingers twisting almost painfully in your hair as she rides out the final shockwaves of her pleasure.

As Sevika recovers from her orgasm, she watches as Abby continues to pound you from behind, admiring how your face remained pressed against her crotch, eyes fluttered shut in pleasure as drool pools from your lips and onto her cunt while Abby’s strap fucked you deliciously. A mischievous idea sparks in her mind, and she signals Abby to stop. “Mind if I finish our pretty girl off, Anderson?” she asks, her eyes darkening towards the blonde.

Abby looks back at her, nodding in agreement “Why of course, you’re our guest of honor after all.”

You were too drunk, too fucked out to register the conversation between the two women. Until—Abby stops. She slowly begins to pull her cock out of you, and your mind slowly begins to shift back to reality. You start to whine as the loss, weakly pushing your hips back against her as a desperate sign for her to keep you full. Sevika simply chuckles as she gently lifts your head to push herself off the bed. “There, there, pretty girl,” Sevika muses, reaching for her strap on the bed and putting it on. “Anderson and I are just gonna switch places, yeah? But don’t worry, you’ll get your fill again soon.”

Abby slowly pulls the rest of her strap out of your dripping cunt before shifting aside to let Sevika take her place, the thick strap of hers bobbing obscenely as she settles in between your legs. Her gaze lingers on the immense length of Sevika’s strap, shaking her head in uncertainty. “Sevika, there’s no way she’s gonna be able to take this.” she reminds her.

Sevika simply scoffs and looks over to her, raising a confident brow. “She’s a big girl, Anderson. If she can be able to withstand faking it with your kid for this long, then she can handle me.”

Abby sighs back at her, unable to fight back with that statement. She moves closer to Sevika, and she allows her some space for her to settle next to her. “Well, in that case, let me help you break her in.”

A shiver starts to travel down your spine once Abby’s warm palms land onto the skin of your ass, slowly spreading them open to reveal the sight of your cunt, still dripping with your arousal, your clit throbbing while your hole clenches around nothing with a desire to be filled again. Sevika groans softly, bringing her flesh fingers to your puffy folds and spreading them open to get a better look. “Fuck, I’ve never seen a pussy this needy before.” She muses, angling her flesh thumb down to rub gentle circles on your throbbing clit, only for more of your arousal to drip out of your hole. A laugh elicits from her mouth at the sight of it, shaking her head. “And he really thought he was keeping you satisfied, huh? Poor bastard.”

With that, Sevika’s metal hand wraps around the shaft of her strap, aligning it with your entrance before she pushes the tip inside. Half of her length is quick to slide in, and it was no surprise to the two women given how soaking wet you were. A groan falls from your mouth once Sevika bottoms out inside you, your mind already floating from being so full of her.

Abby lets go of your cheeks and trails a gentle hand down your thigh, rubbing it soothingly as her gaze stays fixed on your face, scanning for any pain or discomfort you might express. Her lips part open to speak to you, but a firm squeeze on her forearm keeps her from doing so. “Hey,” Sevika murmurs, leaning close to her. “She’ll be fine, yeah? Look how good she’s already taking me.”

She gestures to Abby to lie back down on the bed, and she hesitates, just for a moment—but obliges. Abby settles herself on the bed in front of you, spreading her legs wide. You try to lift up your head, the weight of it feeling like a thousand pounds. A gentle hand is placed on your jaw as Abby lifts your head up and slowly guides you closer to her until your face is hovering over her glistening cunt. Before you could latch your mouth onto her, Sevika is already beginning to thrust her cock into you, causing a strangled moan to escape from your throat. Your mind is reeling, overwhelmed by the pleasure of being so used and filled by these two women. But you still obey nonetheless as you give in to Sevika’s thrusts and dive into Abby’s wet pussy. Your tongue lazily slides between Abby’s slick folds, stroking and swirling around her tight hole and her sensitive clit as you lose yourself in pleasuring her.

Abby’s head tilts back against the pillows, eyes fluttered shut in pleasure at the sensation of your mouth lapping onto her cunt. “O-Oh fuck, sweetheart…you’re d-doing so good taking me and Sev like this…” Abby’s fingers tangle into your hair, holding you firmly against her as she grinds her cunt against your mouth. Her moans grow louder, more desperate, spurring you on as you feel Sevika’s thick strap stretching you wide with every thrust of hers, her movements getting quicker and rougher with each passing second.

Sevika’s metal and flesh hands tighten their grip on your ass as she leans over your back, her muscular body pressing against you as her strap continues to plunge in and out of your dripping cunt with brutal intensity. “Fuck, pretty girl…Look at you, taking my cock while eating Anderson out like a good girl.” she praises, letting out a groan right when the harness hits on her clit. “I bet this is a hell of a lot easier than pretending to enjoy yourself with that useless boyfriend of yours, huh?"

A muffled whine was all you reply to her with as your mouth stays fixed on Abby’s pussy. Abby’s back arches off the bed, her moans and cries escalating higher as your tongue pushes her closer to the edge. “Fuck, sweetheart! Right there!” she exclaims, pushing your head further into her as she angles her hips against you. “D-Don’t stop, sweet girl, don’t fucking stop…”

Feeling both of them closing in on their releases, you try to fight through the haze in your mind and muster up the energy to double your efforts. Your lips tighten around Abby’s clit, tongue flicking rapidly over the sensitive bud of hers. Your inner walls start to clench around Sevika’s plunging strap, your own climax quickly accumulating as she continues to stretch and fill your pussy in the most sensational way. “That’s it, pretty girl, come for us.” Sevika demands, reaching her flesh hand around to rub tight circles over your clit. “Let us hear what he was too pathetic to pull from you.”

Sevika’s final words were what pushed you over the edge. A scream of ecstasy erupts from your lungs, muffled against Abby’s cunt as your climax crashes over you like a tidal wave. Your pussy clenches harshly around the strap, walls spasming as you cum all over the length, completely coating the purple silicone with your thick release as it keeps stretching you wide. Your body shakes and convulses between the two women, back arching in pleasure as your vision goes white, leaving you a writhing and whimpering mess. Abby’s own climax is quick to follow next, cumming a loud cry of your name as she grinds her gushing cunt into your face, coating your lips and cheeks with her release. You drink up every last drop of her in primal thirst, her thighs trembling between your head as her orgasm tears through her.

The two women hold you in place, using your trembling body as they ride out their highs, Abby eventually collapses back onto the bed, chest heaving, while Sevika leans over you, both of you panting and shining in sweat and arousal. As the haze of pleasure slowly subsides between the three of you, you find yourself sandwiched between them, your face still pressed against Abby’s twitching cunt while Sevika’s strap was still buried deep inside your fluttering pussy. You truly have never felt so thoroughly used, so deliciously satisfied—it was a sensation that Andrew could have never fulfilled.

The two women slowly loosen their grips from you, and Sevika eventually pulls out of you with a wet squelch. The strap slipping from your abused cunt followed by a final gush of your release, and the rest of your body goes limp and collapses onto the mattress once Sevika lets go of your hips. The weight of exhaustion settles deep in your limbs, the warmth of the bed and the lingering touch of their hands pulling you under. The last thing you feel before slumber consumes you is the soft press of lips—whose, you’re not sure—against your temple, followed by the distant murmuring of their voices as they move around you.

The room is much calmer and quieter by the time you stir awake. You’re tucked beneath a fresh set of sheets, and you realize you’re no longer bare once you notice one of Abby’s shirts was clinging onto you instead. A weight shifts beside you, and you look to the right to see Abby slipping into bed beside you, now comfortably dressed, her hand finding yours under the covers. Across the room, Sevika is still standing, her boxers back on as she searches around for the rest of her clothes on the floor. The two of you watch her intently, both tempted to do the same thing—to not let her go just yet.

Abby chimes in, sitting up just enough to face her. “You should stay,” she murmurs, voice thick with drowsiness.

Sevika sighs, picking up her jeans from the floor. “It’s late. I should—”

“It is late,” you repeat, voice softer and laced with sleep. You shift closer to Abby to make an open space for her as you meet with her gaze, your eyes heavy-lidded but certain. “Stay with us, please?”

There’s a brief pause. Her eyes linger on you, and for a moment, it seems like she’ll refuse—but then, the corner of her mouth twitches just a bit. She doesn’t want to admit it—not to Abby, not to you—but something about the way you say it, the way Abby's voice softens, makes her want to stay. She gives into it in an instant, letting out a low, amused grunt as she sets her discarded clothed back down. “Alright, I’ll stay. I can’t exactly say no to the two of you.”

Abby smirks, her hand brushing over yours. “We’ll make it worth your while, Sev.”

Sevika only shakes her head, her lips twitching into a smile as she removes her prosthetic arm and sets it aside before settling back into the bed. The warmth from her body pressed against yours as she gets comfortable, but there’s a gentle side of hers in the way she adjusts the covers, a quiet understanding in the way her human hand brushes over yours, just enough to remind you that she’s still there with you too.

And soon enough with Sevika’s steady presence beside you and Abby’s warmth wrapping around you from behind, the exhaustion takes over you once more. You fall asleep again, nestled between the two of them, safe in the soft rhythm of their breaths.

── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☽⋅⋆ ──

Later in the night, Abby stirs. The peacefulness of the house is interrupted by the distant sound of tires rolling over pavement, followed by the familiar footsteps approaching the front door. She’s out of bed by now, patiently waiting at the top of the stairs, curious as to who could be coming here this late. The door creaks open, and Andrew stumbles inside, still slightly drunk and disoriented as the keys jingle in his grip. Abby scoffs under her breath, shaking her head as she moves past him and heads to the kitchen for a glass of water.

It isn’t until she heads back up the stairs, cold glass now resting in her hand, that she hears him follow behind her. “Hey Mom, uh…where is she?”

She doesn’t answer right away, only peeks through the slight crack in her bedroom door. Inside, under the soft glow of the moonlight, you’re now curled up on your back beside Sevika, face peaceful, body relaxed in a way he’s sure he’s never seen before.

Andrew shifts around uncomfortably, rubbing at his neck. “She didn’t answer my texts, and her car is still outside.”

Abby turns over to look at him, raising a brow. “Maybe she finally had something better to do.”

His brows furrowed in conclusion, an uncertain look expressed on his face over his mother’s response. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Abby huffs a quiet laugh, shaking her head as she takes a sip of her water before responding to him. “Don’t think too hard about it, Andrew. Just go to bed.”

She turns back to her door before he speaks again. “Do you know if she’s okay, at least?”

Abby glances over to him, then through the door again—at the way Sevika’s flesh arm rests loosely over your waist, at how you press into her warmth, both of you lost in deep slumber. The sheets are slightly rumpled where Abby had been lying before she got up, the warmth of her spot still lingering and waiting for her return. A small, knowing smile grows on her lips before she looks back at him. “She’s in good hands, Andrew.” she says simply. “Exactly where she’s meant to be.”

Without another word, she steps into her bedroom and shuts the door behind her, leaving him standing alone in the dimly lit hallway while she returns to where she belongs—where she’s also meant to be.

i’m not gonna lie…writing this fic drained me so much. but i hope it was worth the wait 🥲

requested tags 🏷️: @jinxvex @lucidfairies @valentinewife @willurms @jhyoos @thatgrlnany @sevikas-whore @brisaccount @iluvwomensm @halle5s @tohoko @blackdykegirlblogger @lenahhsworld @starrycherie @acidblum

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cherrygirlfriend · 1 month ago

Text

─── YOU'VE GOT MAIL .ᐟ

...or seeing him with someone else.

★ pairing.ᐟ frat!rafe x nerd!reader

★ summary.ᐟ rafe cameron is the golden boy of kildare university; certified frat boy, captain of the football team, relentless party animal with lines of girls to sleep with.

reader couldn't be more different; while she has the best grades in the whole school, she suffers from social anxiety disorder, and her social life is limited to her three best friends and the cat she secretly snuck into her dorm room.

both of them decide to join the anonymous chatroom for their campus, and start talking to one another, a friendship starting to form between the two; but neither of them know how different the other is.

★ author's note.ᐟ i might be posting another chapter in a few days hehe,,, i've been thinking about making a post about the kind of outfits this reader wears, lmk if you'd be interested!!

YOU'VE GOT MAIL!

you looked down at the conversation you'd had with MalachiConstant last night, a small smile on your face as you read the messages between the two of you.

MalachiConstant: that was such a long drive MalachiConstant: i'm ready to crash

YOU: whaaat? no late night conversation with your favorite internet grandma?

MalachiConstant: as if. i'd stay up for a week for you, grandma.

YOU: now now. you're making my cheeks all warm.

MalachiConstant: i wish i could see that.

your feet dangled in the water and music played in your earphones, the sky still grey, shades of orange slowly starting to paint it. you hummed softly, kicking your feet in the water and making it splash, the diary you'd just finished writing an entry into in your lap.

"takes to the sky like a bird in flight..." you sung softly along to the song, swaying your head back and forth, closing your eyes and enjoying the feeling of the early morning breeze on your face.

only your reverie was cut short by someone grabbing you by the shoulders, making you jump and yelp out as you scrambled to take your earphones off. you looked to the side, seeing the boy you'd talked to at the party you'd attended, his eyes wide with panic, making you furrow your brows in confusion, not noticing your diary was starting to slide down your bare legs and into the water.

"shit!" you heard him exclaim, the boy diving forward, holding his arm out at your knees, which finally got you to notice that your diary was nearly in the water, making you scramble to try and grab it.

a loud splash! echoed around you.

your sudden movements had caused the boy to lose his balance, your eyes widening in shock when you noticed the boy had fallen into the water.

he emerged from under the water, the boy joining his cap and your diary amongst the things now floating on the surface. he looked to you, the two of you bursting into laughter at the exact same time.

after he'd clambered out of the water, the two of you made your way towards the main cabin, the boy having to remind you that his name was 'rafe' and not 'random frat boy'. but when you'd tried to remind him of your name, he'd stopped you before you could get the first syllable out, with a cocky 'i remember.'

the two of you were sitting at the kitchen table, a towel wrapped around rafe who now resembled a wet rat, and you pushed a cup of tea towards him, "i don't drink tea, so." he said, feigning arrogance, making you roll your eyes, "you might get sick." "i never get sick. i'm the god of health." "hmm. and let me guess, you're also the god of... humility?" "absolutely right i am." the boy gave you an exaggerated wink, making you chuckle under your breath.

you watched as he wrapped his red hands around the mug, "you're hands... you've gotta be freezing." you mumbled, and without even thinking, you brought your hands to cover his. but when you looked up at him and noticed that his eyes had widened from the sudden contact, you quickly withdrew them, clearing your throat, "sorry."

"no, uh, it's cool." rafe cleared his throat in the same way you had, as if trying to get rid of the remnants of the awkward moment, "can i, uh, ask you something?"

"sure." you said more eagerly than you should've, hoping that the change of topic would take the tension you felt rising, and the boy cleared his throat once again. "can you tell me about your friend?" he started snapping his fingers, "the, uh, the one..." "viv?" "no, no, the other one who drove with-" "oh, emilia!" you interrupted him, and he nodded, rafe's cheeks slightly red as he scratched the back of his neck. "yeah, her..."

"she's amazing. like, one of the most talented people i know. i swear, she's gonna be, like, an olympic gymnast one day. or a professional bassist. she's funny, but she's not hugely social. she prefers when it's just the four of us." you smiled softly, rafe's lips pursing in thought, "does she, uh, have any pets?" he asked hesitantly, "oh, yeah!" you smiled, "she has a cat. i'm not sure what her cat's name is, but he's adorable."

when rafe answered with nothing but a simple hum, you narrowed your eyes and smiled at him teasingly, "do you think she's cute?"

"do i think she's cute?" rafe snorted, "what is this, middle school?"

"hey!"

"and to answer your question... she feels familiar. but at the same time not." "rafe, you might be the weirdest guy i've met." the boy snorted, "right back atcha."

"well, i should get going. i don't wanna be here when normal people wake up. i'm not a people person." you stood up, the boy letting out a hum "what makes me not normal?" rafe asked.

"i dunno. guess it's that i don't mind your company." you smiled softly, "see you, rafe."

that evening, you, vivian and emilia were in the cottage you three were sharing for your stay, vivian and emilia both getting ready while you were on your phone, vivian still working on her makeup while emilia was trying on clothes, the girl only having a pair of fishnets and a leather skirt on as she looked through her bag as you stared at the private messages between you and MalachiConstant.

YOU: you there? sent at 10am YOU: i miss talking to you. sent at 1pm YOU: i'm booooreeeed :( sent at 4pm YOU: sorry if i'm bothering you :) sent at 6pm YOU: sry i'll stop now!!! sent now

you couldn't help the small frown that made your lips twitch down. you didn't know why you felt this way. you knew he had a life and you knew he'd be busy. he didn't owe you anything. he wasn't your boyfriend, or anything.

but for some reason, it felt like someone had plunged a knife into your chest.

your attention was pulled by emilia's question, "viv, do you have anything that goes with this skirt? i got cranberry juice on the shirt i was gonna wear." the girl asked, making vivian shake her head, "not unless you're going for the whole pastel goth vibe. i didn't bring anything black." "fuck..." emilia mumbled.

"why are you so fussy?" you asked with furrowed brows, making emilia groan, throwing her head back, "this one guy told me that he wants to get to know me. and if i wanna get over you-know-who, i should... try." emilia's admission made vivian squeal, "what guy?" she asked, her eyes wide with excitement, "the guy who drove with us." "rafe?" you questioned, "yeah, him."

"hm." you chuckled softly, "i might actually have something that goes with that. if you're not terribly against band t-shirts." "at this point, i'll take anything that doesn't look like it was puked on by an unicorn. no offense viv." emilia said, the pink-haired girl sticking her tongue out in response. you dug through your own bag, throwing her one of your fleetwood mac shirts. emilia took a look at the shirt, cocking her head to the side, "i'm more of a hole girl..." she mumbled, before turning to you, "you mind if i DIY it a bit?"

"knock yourself out. but you pay for it." "you know i'm good for it." she winked back at you, and what used to be your band t-shirt ended up becoming a tank-top, the sleeves showing most of her bra.

when you went outside to join everyone else, the three of you stuck together for the first few hours, but as the hours went by... first vivian was gone, going off to spend time with topper. and although emilia stayed for another thirty minutes, eventually, he went off to find rafe. and you were left alone.

tipsy, and so unaware of your surroundings that someone could've snuck up to you that you'd react to it after five seconds, you looked for your friends. you knew they were busy, but a part of you also hoped that they'd somehow telepathically know how much you wanted to be there for them.

but vivian was still making out with topper, his hand slowly going up her sk— ew. then when you looked for emilia, you saw her where you'd expected to see her. talking to rafe. and although you didn't want to admit it… a part of you wished that for once someone would've wanted you. you didn't even know what caused it. maybe the fact that he didn't feel like a stranger, that you didn't nearly faint from anxiety when you talked to rafe. but of course he'd choose her. of course he'd choose anyone but you.

why didn't anyone choose you?

TAGLIST: @yktayy9669 @tinythebunni @dywho @melalsworld @akobx @samwinchesterisawhore @st8rkey @jjasmiineee @ltristessedureratoujours @a-lovers-card @uselessnewt @lunaleah @letstryagaintomorrow @cinnamqnnlatte @papapoy @kay133sposts @wtfisastiles @butterfly1c @emmiesummers @melodyyybubbles @toomanywhitelies @littl3loveydovey @scne-vampire @alwaysmaybank @mysticbby2009 @luna443 @drewstarkeyswife-7 @flowerluvr @kisselxoll - cont. in com

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nerdycheol · 3 months ago

Text

Yours to Keep || J.W.W

pairing: Wonwoo x reader

wc: 4.5k

genre: fluff, angst, long-distance relationship

(a/n): missing Wonwoo hours is officially on. I just wanted to post something for him before he leaves. Also thankyou cel ( @mylovesstuffs ) and ro ( @shinysobi ) for beta reading ^^

summary: Before leaving for military service, Wonwoo hands you a disposable camera, saying, "Take a picture whenever you think of me." At first, you laugh it off, but as the days pass, you find yourself reaching for the camera more often than you expected

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The Departure

The night before he leaves, the air feels different—heavier, like the weight of unsaid words is pressing down on both of you.

You sat together on the couch, a blanket draped over both your legs, the TV playing a movie neither of you were really watching. Wonwoo’s arm was resting along the back of the couch, close enough that you can feel the warmth of his skin, but he hasn’t touched you in a while. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because he knows the moment he does, it’ll make leaving that much harder.

You stole a glance at him. His face is calm, unreadable, but you know him too well to be fooled. His fingers drummed softly against the fabric of his sweatpants—restless. He’s been like this all evening, like he’s bracing himself for the inevitable.

“…You should go to bed soon,” he finally says, his voice quieter than usual. “You have to wake up early.”

Your throat tightens. So do you, you want to say, but instead, you shake your head. “Not sleepy.”

He exhales a soft laugh, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Liar.”

You don’t argue. Instead, you pull your knees up to your chest, curling into yourself. He watches you for a moment before reaching behind him.

“Here.” He handed you something small, something rectangular. You took it hesitantly, fingers brushing his, and when you looked down, you saw a disposable camera resting in your palm.

You blink up at him. “Wonwoo, what is this?”

He shrugs, looking almost shy. “Just thought… whenever you think of me, you could take a picture. So you won’t forget me.”

Your heart aches at the way he says it—lightly, like it’s a joke, but the meaning behind it is anything but.

“Idiot,” you murmur, gripping the camera tighter. “Like I could forget you.”

He smiles at that, but there’s something in his expression that makes your chest tighten. You don’t want this moment to end, because when it does, it means morning will come, and with it, the goodbye you’re not ready for.

But time is cruel, and before you know it, the night slips away.

—

The train station is busy, filled with people coming and going, but to you, it feels like you and Wonwoo are standing in your own little world.

You’ve never been good at goodbyes. You hate how they always feel too short, no matter how long they actually last.

Wonwoo shifts his bag on his shoulder, looking down at you. “You’ll be okay, right?”

You nod, but you don’t think you really mean it. He sees right through you, sighing as he reaches out to ruffle your hair—something he always does when he doesn’t know how else to comfort you.

“I’ll be back before you know it.”

You bite your lip, willing yourself not to cry. “Liar.”

That makes him laugh, and for a moment, it’s just like any other day. Like he isn’t about to step onto that train, like he isn’t about to leave for months.

The announcement echoes overhead. Wonwoo glanced at the clock, then back at you. His eyes soften.

“Guess this is it.”

You swallow past the lump in your throat. “Yeah.”

He hesitates, then reaches for your hand, squeezing it once before letting go. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to. You feel the words lingering between you, the ones he’s never been good at saying out loud.

You watched as he took a step back, then another. And then, with one last lingering glance, he turns and walks away.

Your fingers tighten around the camera in your pocket.

The first picture you take is of the train as it disappears into the horizon.

The First Few Weeks

The first thing you notice is the silence.

Wonwoo never filled a room with noise—he wasn’t the type. But the absence of him is loud in a way that makes your chest feel hollow. You woke up the morning after he left, instinctively reaching for the other side of the bed, only to find cool, untouched sheets. You tell yourself it’s fine. You’ll get used to it.

Except you don’t.

The first week is the hardest. Every little thing reminds you of him. The empty coffee mug sitting on the kitchen counter because you keep forgetting that you only need one now. The folded-up blanket on the couch, still carrying the faintest trace of his cologne. The Spotify playlist he made for you playing on shuffle while you try to focus on anything that isn’t the aching space he left behind.

You held out for a call, a text—something. But the military isn’t generous with communication, and you know you won’t hear from him often. You try to be rational about it. You tried to focus on other things. But every time your phone lit up, your heart stumbled, hoping it was him.

It never is.

You don’t want to admit how much you miss him. It’s embarrassing, really. He’s only been gone for a few days, and you’re acting like you’ve been separated for years. But the quiet moments are the worst—the ones where you have no distractions, nowhere to direct your thoughts.

And that’s when you remembered the camera.

It had been sitting on your nightstand since he gave it to you, untouched. You pick it up hesitantly, rolling it over in your hands.

"Whenever you think of me, take a picture."

You scoffed under your breath. He’s going to regret saying that.

Because the first picture you take is of his empty side of the bed—a silent complaint, a little jab at how much you miss him already. You didn't let yourself linger on it for too long, tossing the camera back onto the nightstand and climbing out of bed.

___

Days passed, and the camera became an extension of your routine.

You take pictures without thinking too hard about it, little pieces of your life that he’s no longer here to witness. The second picture is your morning coffee, still made in two mugs before you remember there’s no one to drink the other. The third is the bookshop you both love, his favorite aisle tucked into a quiet corner.

You find yourself narrating moments to him in your head, like he’s still beside you. Wonwoo, you wouldn’t believe the way our neighbor’s cat tried to steal my lunch today. Wonwoo, I went to that ramen place you like, and they gave me extra toppings because they felt bad I was eating alone.

You don’t say them out loud, but somehow, taking the pictures feels like sending a message. Like you’re keeping a record of your days, waiting to share them with him when he comes back.

___

One evening, you caught yourself reaching for your phone before realizing, again, that you couldn't call him. Frustrated, you grab the camera and snap a picture of yourself in the bathroom mirror—tired eyes, a messy ponytail, an expression that practically screams, "I miss you, idiot."

You roll your eyes at yourself. Pathetic.

Still, you didn't delete it.

Somewhere in the quiet, you started to realize—this wasn't just about missing him. This was proof. Proof that life is still moving, that you’re still finding ways to smile, to laugh, to exist, even in his absence.

And maybe, just maybe, when he finally came back, you’d hand him this little stack of memories and say—

"See? I never stopped thinking of you."

The Changing Seasons

The world keeps turning, even when part of you feels frozen in time.

Autumn faded into winter, and with it, the sharpness of your grief softened. Missing Wonwoo doesn’t feel like an open wound anymore—it becomes a quiet, familiar ache, something that sits in your chest like a second heartbeat. You still woke up reaching for him, still caught yourself glancing at your phone too often, but the loneliness no longer consumed you.

Winter was harsh this year. The first snowfall blankets the city in white, and for a moment, it’s almost beautiful. You remember the way Wonwoo used to stick his hands into his coat pockets, his nose red from the cold, mumbling about how he’d rather be inside reading. The memory makes you smile, and without thinking, you grab the camera.

Click. A picture of the snow-covered street. The kind of scene he’d roll his eyes at but secretly find pretty.

The days were slow, but they passed. You kept moving forward, one foot in front of the other. Work keeps you busy, friends pull you into plans you’d rather avoid, but you go anyway—because that’s what Wonwoo would want.

You started writing him letters.

Not the kind you send—just scribbled thoughts on paper, folded neatly and tucked away. Some are short: I saw someone today who looked like you, and my heart nearly jumped out of my chest. Others are longer, rambling about your day, the books you’ve been reading, the songs you’ve been listening to. It’s comforting, in a way, to pretend he’ll read them someday.

Then spring came, and with it, a shift.

The world thawed. Trees blossom, the air turns warm, and the weight on your shoulders lifts—just a little. It’s strange how time does that. How grief doesn’t disappear, but it changes shape, fitting itself into the life you’re still trying to live.

You took more pictures now. Not just for him, but for yourself.

The cherry blossoms are in full bloom—soft pink petals against the sky.

The first ice cream of the season, melting too fast in the sun.

A selfie, just to prove to yourself that you’re still here, still living.

There was a moment—just a fleeting one—where you thought, Maybe I’m okay.

Then summer arrived.

And so did his letter.

You recognized his handwriting instantly, your breath catching as you tore open the envelope. It was short, because Wonwoo had never been one for long-winded words.

"I miss you. Are you still taking pictures?"

Your hands shook as you held the paper.

And for the first time in months, you cried.

Not because of sadness. Not because of longing.

But because you finally understood.

This distance—it was temporary. Seasons change. Time moves. And eventually, he’ll come home.

And when he does, you’ll have a whole life’s worth of memories waiting for him.

The Hardest Days

Some days pass in a blur—wake up, work, eat, sleep, repeat. You go through the motions, keeping busy enough that the ache in your chest doesn’t have time to settle. But the hardest days?

The hardest days drag.

They stretch endlessly, pressing down on you until you feel like you might sink under the weight of them. They aren’t loud or dramatic; they don’t come with warning signs. Instead, they creep in quietly, disguised as ordinary moments that turn into reminders of how much you miss him.

The first bad day comes two weeks after Wonwoo leaves.

You were doing okay, keeping yourself distracted, until you stepped into your favorite bookstore—the one you used to visit together. At first, it felt fine. You even reached for a book you thought he’d like, flipping through the pages with a small smile.

Then, you glanced to your right.

His usual spot—third shelf from the entrance, where he’d always linger, eyes scanning the titles like he was searching for something he’d lost—was empty.

The realization hit you like a punch to the stomach. You could almost see him there, adjusting his glasses, tilting his head slightly in thought. You could hear his voice in your head, muttering about how he “wasn’t going to buy anything this time” only to walk out with three new books.

But he wasn’t there.

And for the first time since he left, you truly felt his absence.

You left without buying anything.

The days bleed into each other after that. Some are manageable. Others make you feel like time is moving too slowly, stretching the distance between you even further.

Then the second bad day comes.

It starts with an innocent notification—a new game update.

Wonwoo had been so excited about this one. He’d rambled about it for weeks, explaining all the new features in way too much detail, his eyes lighting up in that rare, boyish way. You’d teased him for it, but truthfully, you’d loved seeing him that excited.

Your fingers hover over your phone, debating whether to open the game.

But what’s the point? He’s not here to play with you. There won’t be any late-night matches, no playful competition, no quiet chuckles when you mess up and pretend it was lag.

Still, you tap the icon. The screen loads, and suddenly, your vision blurs.

Because there—at the top of your friend list—is his username, followed by the dreaded words:

"Last online: 14 days ago."

The tears come faster than you expect.

You stare at the screen for a long time, hands clenched tightly around your phone, chest aching in ways you don’t know how to fix. The world keeps moving, but for you, time feels frozen in the moment he left.

___

And then, the hardest day of them all.

It’s late—past midnight. You should have been sleeping, but instead, you were lying in bed, curled up under the blanket Wonwoo used to steal half of.

Your body feels heavy, weighed down by exhaustion and loneliness.

You roll over, reaching for your phone, because on nights like this, instinct takes over. You want to call him. Just to hear his voice, just to know he’s still there, even from miles away.

But you can’t.

So instead, you do something even more reckless.

You scroll up in your messages. Past the "good luck" text you sent before he left. Past the "I landed safely" reply he sent hours later. Past the little check-ins, the random inside jokes, the "I miss you too" he sent on a particularly bad night.

You scroll all the way back—weeks, months—until you find the voice messages.

Your fingers tremble as you press play.

"You always stay up too late, you know that?" Wonwoo’s voice filters through the speaker, quiet and familiar.

"I swear, if you don’t start sleeping earlier, I’m gonna—ugh, never mind. Just take care of yourself, okay?"

There’s a slight pause, then a soft chuckle.

"You’re probably rolling your eyes right now."

A shaky breath leaves your lips.

"Alright, go to sleep. Goodnight, dummy."

The recording ends. The silence that follows is deafening.

And that’s when it really hits.

It’s not just that you miss him. It’s not just loneliness. It’s the fact that you can’t reach for him whenever you want. You can’t call him and expect an immediate answer. You can’t see him, can’t hear his real-time reactions, can’t fall asleep to the sound of him breathing beside you.

He’s gone.

And no amount of scrolling through old messages will change that.

So you do the only thing you can do.

You clutch the phone to your chest, squeeze your eyes shut, and let the tears fall.

Somewhere, across the distance, Wonwoo is probably doing the same.

The Small Joys & Healing

Time has a funny way of moving. Some days stretch endlessly, the hours dragging with a weight that makes everything feel slower, heavier. And then, without warning, weeks slip past in a blur of routine and half-hearted distractions. You don’t know which is worse—feeling like you’re stuck in time or feeling like you’re moving too fast without him.

But eventually, somewhere in between the long nights and the quiet mornings, you start to find something like peace.

It’s not the kind of peace that makes the missing go away. No, that lingers, settling in your bones like a familiar ache. But it’s a softer kind of longing now—one that doesn’t consume you, one that reminds you that love doesn’t disappear with distance.

___

The first few weeks were the hardest, but the world didn’t stop turning just because he was gone.

You still wake up every morning, even when the bed feels emptier than usual. You still go about your day, even when every little thing reminds you of him. The bookstore you both used to visit, the ramen place he always craved at the most random times, the late-night walks that feel lonelier without his quiet presence beside you.

At first, you avoid these things. It feels wrong to do them without him, like you’re leaving him behind somehow.

But then, slowly, you do return.

You find yourself stepping into the bookstore one afternoon, the familiar scent of paper and ink wrapping around you. It’s instinct to glance toward the third shelf—the one where he always stood, hands tucked into his pockets as he scanned the titles. He’s not there, of course. But you let yourself linger anyway.

Your fingers brush against the spines of books you know he would’ve picked. A classic novel with poetic prose. A sci-fi story with a plot twist he’d figure out before the halfway mark. A historical book he’d read just to debate the accuracy of it later.

Before you know it, you’re picking one up.

Not just for him. For you.

Maybe, when he comes back, you can tell him about it. Maybe you’ll finally have something to recommend to him instead of the other way around.

The thought makes your chest feel lighter.

Then, there’s the laughter.

It sneaks up on you one evening while you’re on a call with friends. They’re arguing over something ridiculous—whether or not pineapple belongs on pizza, or maybe which video game has the worst NPC dialogue. You’re half-listening, offering the occasional hum of agreement, until someone casually brings up Wonwoo.

“He’s probably trying to act all serious in training,” one of them says. “But I bet he still zones out mid-conversation like usual.”

The memory of Wonwoo’s blank, unreadable expressions comes rushing back, and before you can stop it, a laugh bubbles up. A real one.

And just like that, you remember:

Wonwoo might be far away, but he’s not gone.

He’s still him, still existing, still part of the world you share.

It’s a simple realization, but it lifts something inside you.

You laugh again that night, and for the first time in weeks, it doesn’t feel like you’re betraying the ache in your chest.

___

And then come the letters.

They don’t arrive often, but when they do, they feel like tiny lifelines. A piece of him, sent across the miles, just for you.

The first one is short, the paper slightly crinkled at the edges. His handwriting is neat but rushed, like he was scribbling between moments of exhaustion.

"I’m fine. Tired, but fine. It’s weird not having my phone. I keep reaching for it before remembering I can’t just text you. I hope you’re eating well."

You trace your fingers over the ink, swallowing the lump in your throat. Even in the middle of everything, he’s still thinking of you.

"Oh, and don’t let them trick you into watching horror movies without me. You know you’ll regret it."

A small, breathy laugh escapes you. He knows you too well.

That night, you sit at your desk with a pen in hand, writing your own letter back. You tell him about your days, the little things he might miss—the bookstore visit, the ramen place, how your friends still argue over the same things. You try not to sound too sad, even though the words feel heavier than they should.

At the end, you add, “I miss you. But I’ll wait. Just don’t forget about me, okay?”

You don’t expect an immediate reply, but when his next letter arrives weeks later, your heart pounds as you unfold the paper.

"I could never forget you. Don’t even joke about that."

And just like that, the waiting feels a little easier.

___

Healing doesn’t come all at once. Some days are lighter, some days are heavy. There are moments when the longing feels unbearable, when all you want is to hear his voice, to see him sitting beside you, to feel the warmth of his hand in yours. But there are also moments of quiet contentment—when the missing turns into something gentler, something that reminds you that he’s still yours, even from a distance.

And maybe that’s enough.

For now.

Because love like this—steady, unshaken, unwavering—is worth waiting for.

And when he comes back?

You’ll be right there, waiting.

The Return

The moment you spot him, the air in your lungs disappears.

You’ve been preparing for this day for months—counting down, dreaming about how it would feel to finally see him again. But none of those daydreams could’ve prepared you for this.

For him.

He steps past the arrival gate, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, his uniform crisp and perfectly fitted. His posture is straighter, his movements sharper, his presence heavier. It’s him, but at the same time, it isn’t.

Wonwoo has always been broad, but now he’s different—stronger. His shoulders are wider, his arms more defined, muscles straining slightly under the fabric of his uniform. Even his stance is different, more solid, more certain.

And his face.

Your heart stutters at the sight of him.

The softness of youth has faded from his features, replaced by sharper angles, a sculpted jawline, a quiet confidence that wasn’t there before. His skin is tanned, kissed by the sun after months of training outdoors. His lips are slightly chapped, a little more serious than you remember. And his eyes—

They meet yours across the crowded terminal, and everything else ceases to exist.

Your chest tightens.

His gaze is the same.

Still warm, still familiar, still your Wonwoo.

For a second, he doesn’t move. He just stands there, watching you, taking you in. And then—

The corner of his lips twitches. A breath of a smile.

And just like that, you’re running.

You push past strangers, the sound of your own heartbeat drowning out the noise around you. He sees you coming, and before you even reach him, his bag is slipping from his shoulder, arms already opening—

Then you crash into him.

He’s solid. So, so solid. Your arms wrap around him, and for a second, he stumbles back from the force of your embrace. But then his hands find your waist, gripping you tightly, pressing you closer.

And oh.

He feels different.

The Wonwoo you remember was warm and comforting, but this Wonwoo is unshakable. His back is firm under your touch, his arms secure around you, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear. He smells like fabric softener and something distinctively him, something you missed more than you can ever put into words.

“Wonwoo,” you breathe, voice muffled against his shoulder.

He exhales shakily. “Yeah,” he murmurs, like he can’t believe this is real either.

You squeeze your eyes shut, hands fisting the back of his uniform. He doesn’t let go. Neither do you.

When you finally pull back, your hands instinctively find his face, palms pressing against his cheeks. He lets you look at him, watching as you take in every detail—every sun-kissed inch of his skin, every small change time has left behind.

“You got buff,” you whisper, half teasing, half awed.

His lips quirk slightly. “That’s the first thing you say?”

You laugh, a little breathless, shaking your head. “You just—” You pause, eyes sweeping over him again. “You look different.”

Wonwoo tilts his head. “Yeah?”

You nod, fingers brushing over his jaw, feeling the rougher skin there. “But you’re still you.”

His expression softens, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. His hands, still resting on your waist, tighten just slightly. “Still me,” he echoes.

You smile. “Still mine.”

Something shifts in his gaze. His thumb brushes against your hip, and for a moment, he just looks at you, like he’s memorizing this moment, memorizing you.

Then, voice quieter than before, he murmurs, “Always.”

And with that, he takes your hand, laces his fingers with yours—strong, sure, steady.

“Let’s go home.”

Epilogue: Home

The apartment feels the same, yet entirely different.

It smells like the candles you kept burning, like fresh linen and the faint scent of coffee. The same bookshelf stands against the wall, still overflowing with your shared collection of novels and mangas. The couch still has the blanket you always curled up in, the one that used to smell like him before it faded away.

But now—he’s here.

Wonwoo stands in the center of the living room, eyes scanning the space like he’s reacquainting himself with it, like he’s trying to remember what it felt like to belong here. His duffel bag rests by the door, abandoned the moment he stepped inside. His jacket is slung over the back of a chair, and he’s wearing the plain black tee and gray sweatpants you had set out for him, finally out of that uniform that made him feel distant—unreachable.

His hair is shorter, his shoulders broader. His stance is different, like the months away have reshaped him in ways that are still settling. But his eyes—they are the same. Warm. Familiar. Home.

And then his gaze landeds on what you’re holding.

The disposable camera.

A slow smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “You still have that?”

You nod, turning it over in your hands, fingers brushing over the familiar ridges of the plastic body. “Of course. You gave it to me before you left.”

He had slipped it into your hands that day at the departure gate, voice teasing but eyes serious. "Take pictures. So I don’t miss too much."

So you did.

Of your morning coffee, of the stray cat that lingered by the bookstore, of the first snowfall that settled on the windowsill. Silly things. Little things. Things you wished he could’ve seen.

Wonwoo stepped closer, his fingers ghosting over the camera. “How many are left?”

You glanced at the film counter. “One.”

His expression shifted—something unreadable flickering in his gaze before he reached out, fingers wrapping around the camera.

Click.

The shutter snaps before you can react.

Your eyes widen. “Wait, what—”

Wonwoo lowered the camera, the corners of his lips quirking up. “Wanted the last one to be of you.”

Your heart stutters.

You should’ve expected it. He has always been like this—quietly sentimental in ways that take you by surprise. But something about this moment, about the way he’s looking at you, like he wants to memorize every detail—it makes warmth bloom in your chest.

You reach for the camera, setting it gently on the table before stepping closer, wrapping your arms around him.

Wonwoo exhales, his hold firm, grounding. His chin rests against the top of your head, and for the first time in months, you feel complete.

“You’re back,” you whisper.

His lips brush against your temple. “I’m back.”

A pause.

Then, softer—“I missed you.”

Your fingers tighten around the fabric of his shirt, your throat tightening with emotion. “I missed you too.”

Outside, the city hums with life, the world moving as it always has. But here, in this small apartment, time stills.

And as you stand there in his arms, the disposable camera sitting beside you, its final photo safely tucked away inside—you know you’ll never need it to remember this moment.

(join my taglist) ^^

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sweetshuga · 4 months ago

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「 𝑻𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝑴𝒚 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑨𝒘𝒂𝒚 ✧ 𝑪.𝑺 」

𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔: 𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑺𝑻! ⬩ mentions of breaking up ⬩ arguing ⬩ crying ⬩ sum fluff at the end + more. Happy ending!

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 𝟒 𝒌

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓’𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆: I had already started writing this since way back in January (procrastination took over and I only finished it now lol), but I saw @throatgoat4u’s post and tweaked it to fit her post more. I’m not the best at writing angst, but I hope you enjoy this, love you<3

𝑲𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝑰𝒏 𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒅: English is not my first language!

𝑺𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔: You’ve been in an 'on & off' relationship with Chris for years since middle school. It was a losing game, but neither of you were ready to end it.

Act 1: Typical him

It was the same shit every other week.

Chris would break up with you after telling you that you were being too much, too jealous, but he would be back after a few days or a week, telling you how sorry he was and making up with you through sex.

You let him walk all over you just because you loved him.

Which, in fact, is stupid, but now you’ve finally – and thankfully – decided to end the whole mess that has been dragging on since middle school. Hence, the search you’re doing around school to find and talk to him. You were nervous to say the least, anxious even, but you knew you had to do something to save you both from the stress.

You sighed heavily, clutching one strap of your backpack as you walked, trying to find Chris in the crowded hallway of your high school. Your eyes searched the sea of students, trying to find his fluffy brown hair or his piercing blue eyes.

A familiar laugh overpowered through the loud chattering.

Your gaze snapped to the lockers on your right and there he was, leaning against one of the lockers, a stupid grin on his face as he chatted up a curvy blonde—undoubtedly an upperclassmen. You rolled your eyes, muttering under your breath about him being a player as you walked towards him.

"Chris-" You were immediately cut off by his laughter, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he playfully nudged the girl with his arm, not even acknowledging your presence even though you were only a few feet away.

Ouch, that stung.

You blinked slowly, not sure if you should call out to him again or stand there like an idiot. None of those options sounded ideal and you didn’t want to look like a desperate ex. Therefore came the decision to just walk away awkwardly, but it was for sure better than embarrassing yourself further.

You told yourself that seeing him laughing so genuinely with someone else didn’t bother you one bit, but your quick strides, tense shoulders and clenched jaw betrayed your denial. The ache in your chest told you enough; you were definitely not unbothered.

You plopped on your bed, having come home alone because you were too stubborn to swallow down your jealousy and talk to Chris. 'What the fuck is wrong with me?' You thought, turning to lay on your stomach as you groaned loudly into your pillow. 'Sulking over some guy?' That was unlike you, even when you were together you never used to care this much.

Hell, you’re not even dating Chris anymore. You had broken up with him two days ago, but here you were, getting all worked up over him talking to a pretty girl even though you were planning on telling him that you wanted nothing to do with him anymore.

"Well, he isn’t just any guy, unfortunately..." You sighed, mumbling quietly to yourself as you turned back around to face the ceiling. Suddenly, your phone vibrated with a call. You sighed, again, and took the call without looking at the caller.

"Why’d you go home without me?" Chris’ voice filled your ear and you sat up so abruptly that you swore you saw static for a second before you closed your eyes, putting a hand on your head and taking a few seconds before opening them again.

"What?" You mumbled dumbly, eliciting a sigh from the other end. "You said we were gonna talk so I asked your friend where you were and she said you went home-" "And I wonder why." You immediately shut yourself up, cursing under your breath.

You did not want to start another stupid argument.

The heavy silence on the other end added to your nerves before a scoff was heard. "Fuck you mean by that?" Chris clicked his tongue audibly—blatantly showing his growing irritancy.

"Well-" you paused, lips pressing into a thin, bitter line before you spoke again, "-you looked awfully happy talking to that blonde girl so I didn’t want to interrupt you guys." You purposely dragged out the 'happy', rolling your eyes even though he couldn’t see it.

Another, heavier, sigh reached your ear, followed by a quiet mumbling that you didn’t quite catch, but you knew it was anything but good. "Are you being for real right now? Like dead serious? We’re doing this again?" Chris sounded exasperated, probably rolling his eyes too.

"I am and I seriously have nothing else to say to you." "Wha-" You ended the call before he could say anything else, putting your phone on dnd to make sure it won’t buzz with calls before getting your notebooks out from your backpack to do your homework.

You tried your best to distract yourself, but the tension lingered. Your thoughts were plagued by him, by scenarios of him with another girl, happier than he was with you and a heavy sigh left your lips before you closed your textbook.

"This is a fucking disaster." You chuckled to yourself, but there was no amusement behind your laughter—it was almost bitter in a way.

Your gaze lingered on your phone, debating whether or not to just text him about it, or simply block him, but you opted to tell him in person to show that you cared enough—is what you told yourself, but you knew it was because you wanted to talk to him one last time even if it meant more heartbreak.

What is he doing to you?

Act 2: Confrontation

The next day at school, you were grumpier than usual, jealousy still lingering from yesterday. You walked towards your locker, only to find Chris leaning against it, hands in his pockets in a relaxed, casual gesture. A little too casual like he was trying hard to act normal.

His eyes snapped up from the floor and locked onto yours, his stomach doing a small backflip at the sight of you. His tongue darted out to wet his lips in a blatantly nervous gesture that betrayed whatever nonchalant act he was putting on. He pushed himself off the lockers when you approached, taking his hands out of his pockets and running one through his messy locks.

"About yesterday-" "It was nothing." You cut him off before he could finish his sentence, but you knew what he was going to ask you. What was that yesterday? You knew that would be his question. After all, Chris cared a lot, even if he actively tries his best not to show that he did—which only served to make you more distant and half-hearted whenever you were back together.

"Oh..." His voice became significantly quieter, but he didn’t back down just yet. "You still didn’t answer my question though." A small smirk made its way onto his lips and God did that smug look irritate you as much as it turned you on.

"What question?" You asked back curtly, not even looking at him as you rummaged through your locker. "The question from yesterday-" he searched your face for any signs that you remember before speaking again, "-you know, I asked you why you went home without me."

Your hands halted before resuming their search for your books. "I did answer, or was my response just not important enough for you to remember?" His eyes widened by a fraction, barely keeping himself from stumbling over his words in nervousness. "I, well-" "It’s fine, whatever." You cut him off, again, with an obvious 'I’m mad' reply, making him sigh heavily.

"Look, I get you’re probably pissed off because I was- I dunno, talking to some girl, I guess? But you have to understand that I won’t just drop everything to talk to you." His words weren’t meant to hurt, but they did anyway and damn did they hurt like hell.

"And you know, it’s not like we’re dating anymore — we’ve broken up and it’s kinda annoying how involved you are with everything I do." He paused, knowing he may have hit a nerve when he saw how quiet you were.

You saw his sudden pause and scoffed, making his eyebrows furrow, his expression starting to harden. Chris was becoming increasingly annoyed with your attitude.

"Why are you so quiet all of a sudden? Go on, keep talking bullshit." You blurted out before you could stop yourself, too embarrassed and angry to try and understand his point of view. Chris’ jaw clenched, a muscle in his cheek visibly twitching as he looked down at you, wearing an expression that clearly told you that he was getting pissed off by your words.

"What I’m saying is not bullshit! Don’t you fucking get it? We are not dating and I can do whatever the fuck I want- stop acting like a fucking jealous bitch — no wonder nobody else wants you, you’re a fucking nightmare." He hissed through gritted teeth before he could think twice.

Ouch.

"Whatever, I’m sorry and you’re right, you can do whatever you want, so sorry for being such a jealous bitch." Your words flowed freely as if his jab broke a dam of emotions you were desperately trying to keep at bay.

"And the reason why I’m acting like a "jealous bitch" is because I had something important to say, something important to talk about than just the idle chatting you were doing with that chick." You kept going, spurred on by his silence.

"That yesterday? Was a fucking wake up call like it’s so pathetic that I actually hoped you would at least talk to me after I said I had something serious and important to talk about-" you paused, your anger dissolving into a brief pang guilt for snapping at him, but you couldn’t stop now.

"You know what? Let’s end this shit and I mean like seriously fucking end this on and off. I don’t want anything to do with you anymore." You turned your heel and walked away quickly, completely ignoring Chris’ voice calling out to you.

Chris watched as you walked away, a heavy sigh leaving him as he rubbed his face roughly with his hands. "Why do I always have to mess it up." He groaned in annoyance, mostly to himself but also towards your stubbornness that he couldn’t help but be attracted to. "And why are you always this fucking stubborn." He mumbled, another frustrated sound leaving his lips.

"Fuck!" He punched the lockers beside him, the dull sting it gave did nothing to help get rid of the whirlwind of emotions inside him.

You arrived home and immediately plopped on the couch, satisfaction oozing from your whole being as your body sank further into the soft, plush cushions of the couch. You stayed like that for a minute, just basking in the comfort of your home before opening your phone to find so many missed calls and texts from Chris.

i’m sorry for what i said at school

i didn’t mean any of it i swear

it’s so fucking hard to let you go

i miss you

fuck I love you

please baby

talk to me

ᴿᵉᵃᵈ

You scoffed at the texts, even as it tugged at your heart. It was something new—the texts this time around sounded more desperate than his usual "I’m sorry, baby, let’s start over again?" ones.

Maybe he was finally seeing his fault. Maybe, just maybe, he sincerely wanted to make things better, but you chalked it up to you being delusional and him wanting easy lay.

He was surely just trying to get in your pants again, right?

Meanwhile, in Chris’ room:

Chris, on the other hand, stared at his phone nervously, staring at the small 'read' sign at the bottom of his last text. You were obviously ignoring him, having seen his messages but not replying to them. His heart squeezed a tiny bit, disappointed and embarrassed that he hoped you would at least respond.

He couldn’t handle the embarrassment he was feeling and shifted his frustration to you instead, mumbling things he definitely didn’t mean, things that sounded forced even to his own ears.

"Good riddance." He huffed, before continuing in a quieter tone. "Ha, she’ll probably text me back and we’ll be back together by tomorrow." He threw his phone on his bed before walking out of his room and to the kitchen to get something to eat. He told himself that he was just being paranoid, even as his expression flickered with doubt.

You’ll text him back, right?

A few – too many – hours went by and still no response from you. The faint 'read' at the bottom of his message was a stark reminder that you weren’t buying his apology, that you probably meant it when you said that you didn’t want anything to do with him anymore.

Chris shook his head subtly, as if that’d get rid of his – very much real – fears.

"I’m just overreacting, that’s all, overreacting." He tried to convince himself, but it fell on deaf ears as he glanced at his phone for the nth time tonight, hoping for a text from you.

He debated whether or not to just delete everything he wrote or send more messages, but decided against both options and instead went to take a shower, hoping it’ll help him get rid of his anxiousness.

About half an hour later, Chris emerged from the bathroom, small droplets of water hanging off the ends of his hair and clad in only a pair of black boxer briefs as he walked towards his bed before plopping down on it. He took his phone from the place he left it on the bed and opened his messages just to get disappointed when he saw that you still hadn’t texted him back.

A few minutes of staring at the one sided messages, Chris just couldn’t take it anymore. "Fuck this." He groaned out loud as he stood up from his bed, putting on a hoodie and jeans, not even caring if his hair was still damp from his shower as he pocketed his phone and quietly sneaked out of the house.

He was going to talk to you face to face.

As he walked to your house in the cool night air, he failed to stop his eyes from tearing up, but he blamed it all on the wind being a little too harsh tonight. Well, that was an obvious lie. In reality, he was afraid. Afraid that maybe this break-up actually meant something, that maybe you two were done for good.

That thought terrified him.

He hastily wiped away the tears beginning to fall from his eyes, taking deep shaky breaths as he walked to your house, determined to make things right.

Act 3: This is it—the end

It wasn’t such a surprise when you heard a knock on your window that night—despite your room being on the second floor, and you immediately knew who it was.

You sighed, deciding to just open the window and talk to Chris since he was so persistent with his knocking and you didn’t want him to wake up your parents—that would get you both in trouble. You took a deep breath to prepare yourself for another argument, or worse, before opening the curtains and window, letting the brunette boy in.

Chris took off his shoes by your window, his hair slightly damp from a shower and dressed in just plain whitewash jeans and grey hoodie, looking every bit like his usual self. His eyes though, they weren’t like usual. His eyes were red-rimmed and slightly glossy, as if he had been crying.

"Chris..." Your voice trailed off when he looked away, his hands quickly wiping away what you assumed were tears off his cheeks. He took a shaky breath as if to compose himself before turning his face towards you again, staring into your eyes.

Chris opened his mouth to say everything he had prepared to say, but all that came out was a quiet "I’m sorry", his voice cracking at the end as he barely held back his emotions.

"I, I love you and-and I can’t live without you- like I’m not even tryna be all emotional ’nd shit but I- fuck..." Chris looked away again as he took a sharp intake of breath, clearly uncomfortable with showing so much raw vulnerability and also trying not to full-on bawl in front of you.

You were speechless, quite literally speechless as you stared at him. You had seen him cry, sure, but you had never seen him this... broken, and it stung seeing his tears. Your chest tightened painfully, your breath catching in your throat.

Chris took a few deep breaths before turning back to you, walking closer and did something that was such a surprise that it elicited a small gasp from you. He was kneeling down in front of you, his hands desperately clutching yours as more tears flowed out of his pretty blue eyes that were now red and slightly bloodshot.

"Please, baby." The pet name made the tightness in your chest grow, but you still couldn’t say a word due to your mind having blanked from the suddenness of it all.

"I’ll do better, yeah? We can, we can try again-" "Chris, we can’t." You finally found your voice and cut him off before he could say anything more. His eyes drooped slightly at your response, beginning to brim with fresh tears as he blinked rapidly, trying his best not to cry more.

"Why?" Was all he could ask, his shoulders slumping subtly in defeat, hands still clutching yours, but a little gentler now.

"Because... Because we’ve tried so many times and every time it ends the same and starts the same." You barely held back your own emotions, a painful lump forming in your throat when you felt the gentle touch of his hands on yours, but you didn’t try to take your hands away and instead rubbed small circles on the back of his hands with your thumbs—your gesture undeniably intimate despite your words.

"I know." Chris whispered, a few tears rolling down his cheeks as he maintained eye contact. "I know that it’s all fucked up, but I don’t want to lose you baby." He admitted, his voice breaking at the end as a chocked sob escaped him.

"It feels like I’m fucking dying when I think of the possibility that you’ll no longer be my girl — it breaks me to imagine someone else holding you, kissing you, when it should be me instead." He closed his eyes, letting a few more tears roll down his face before opening them again.

"You’re my whole world, and baby, please, please don’t leave me- I love you so fucking much like it feels like I’m having a fucking heart attack right now." His voice dripped with desperation, each word laced with pain.

You let out a soft sigh, gently taking your hands away, but before he could even begin to think that you were rejecting his apology, you quickly tugged on his arms. "Get up." You said. Your tone was significantly softer, which made Chris stand up almost immediately, nearly stumbling over himself.

He looked down at you with watery, but hopeful, eyes. Waiting patiently for you to say something as he sniffled softly, wiping his face with his sleeves. His ears heated up, a faint flush creeping up his face and neck when he realised how pathetic he must have looked kneeling and crying all while whining about his fears, but he made no move to backpedal.

After a few minutes of silence, you sighed, your resolve completely shattering due to his unrelenting puppy dog eyes and overall 'kicked puppy' look.

"Just, c’mere." You mumbled as you pulled him into a hug, rubbing his back in slow soothing circles, and Chris melted. His body melted into yours as he wrapped his arms around you, his breath hitching as he tried not to cry again.

"I forgive you and it wasn’t just your fault you know? I never listened to you, never tried to understand you and it would be wrong of me to blame you alone when we were both in the wrong." You murmured, your voice thick with emotion and unshed tears.

"Can we, can we go back to how it used to be? Before things got complicated with the on and off?" Chris asked quietly, as if he was afraid the answer would be a no, but his worries were quickly diminished when you spoke softly, your words soothing every nerve in his body.

"Yeah, we can." You reassured, eliciting a shaky sigh of relief from him, his arms tightening slightly around you. "Thank you, fuck- I love you." He quickly said, a small watery laugh escaping him due to the overwhelming happiness he felt.

You let out a soft chuckle when he mumbled 'I love you' and 'I’m sorry' over and over again, holding you like you were his lifeline—the only thing keeping him grounded.

"I love you too baby." You cooed, your soft voice along with the sweet term of endearment made his eyes tear up again and a muffled sound escaped him—somewhere in between a sob and a whimper. His arms tightened around you, his shoulders shaking with quiet, soft sobs.

Your own tears ran down your face, unable to hold it in anymore. The moment was raw and vulnerable, but it was real. It was everything you ever wanted with him, and more. The vulnerability wasn’t so scary when he was with you, letting his tears fall freely and whispering sweet words that soothed your soul.

Your bodies swayed gently from side to side, almost as if to lull yourselves away from the previous heartaches, and in that moment you realised that maybe you were wrong this time, maybe he wasn’t after what you thought he was after.

He truly loved you and the sheer knowledge left you in awe.

You stayed like that for a bit, just hugging each other and telling each other how sorry you were, how much you loved each other.

You couldn’t have felt more happy.

You both laid in your bed, cuddling with the blanket pulled up to your chins. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Chris turned around to face you, making you do the same, both of you looking at each other with adoring eyes like you were utterly in love—which you were, adorably so.

Chris suddenly spoke, his eyes glinting with a playful gleam as he leaned in closer. "You know, I’m kinda embarrassed ’cause I just cried like a fucking baby, kneeling in front of you ’nd all." He complained with a whine in his voice, making you giggle.

You shook your head slightly, a teasing smile on your lips. "Don’t be embarrassed, it was sooo cute." Chris rolled his eyes playfully at your words. "I know you’re making fun of me."

"Am not! And see? Nonchalance doesn’t suit you at all — you’re better off being yourself." You cooed, gently cupping his face in your hands, your smile softening when he nuzzled into them. "I love you like this — no act, no bullshit, just you." You admitted, making him chuckle softly, eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Yeah? You love this cry baby?" He teased, his earlier embarrassment fading at your reassurance and admissions. "Yeah, I love this cry baby." You leaned forward and pecked the tip of his nose before attacking his face in small, quick kisses.

"Hey-" Chris couldn’t help but giggle, his hands reaching for your shoulders to try and push you away in an obviously half-hearted attempt. Hle didn’t actually want you to stop.

"You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?" You teased in between kisses, making him laugh harder before he wrapped his arms around your waist to keep you from moving so much, successfully halting your kissing assault to a stop.

"Baby, enough." Chris whined in between breathless giggles, obviously having enjoyed it even though he didn’t want to admit that he did.

A comfortable silence fell between you two again. The type of silence that made you realise how nice it was just to have him close to you like this. His presence was enough to make you happy, and it was equally as comforting for him as it was for you.

The night passed with soft kisses and sweet murmurs. I love you’s falling freely from your lips, mingling with Chris’ own words of love.

This is it—the end.

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a-hound-will-die-for-you · 2 months ago

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Pride and Jealousy

Masterlist

Summary: Sandor has serious self-esteem issues, which make him insanely jealous and possessive of anyone who gets close to you. After a huge argument, things between you two go cold as ice; but Sandor’s not ready to let you go. He will fight for you. Even if it means doing the one thing he swore he’d never do. [Reader's POV!] Word count: 5600 Notes: highborn lady f!reader x Sandor Clegane; preestablished relationship; huge argument; jealousy; possessiveness; a bit of rough treatment; Ser Loras is kind to you; you're angry and hurt - but Sandor will fix it. English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes I might make. Constructive feedback is welcomed, I am here to share and learn <3 Dedicated to @mrsrincewind for their incredible art about Sandor <3.

You barely had time to brace your hands against the mattress. Your chin sank into the silk pillow as a rough hand seized your hair, shoving you mercilessly down against the bed.

“Sandor, he didn’t touch me!” you cried, voice muffled by the fine sheets. Above you, the towering form of the King's shield loomed large over your helpless body.

“He laid hands on your waist,” he growled, and his knees sank deep into the mattress on either side of your bare thighs.

“He was taking my measurements!” You twisted and kicked backward as his free hand pushed your skirts higher. All to no avail, for his arm snaked around your middle and hauled you up so that your knees were left dangling in the air.

The motion only stoked your fury. You tried to drive your heels into him, as if you could hope to harm one of the deadliest men in the Seven Kingdoms, but the dark figure pinned you more firmly to the four-post bed and let out a mocking, cruel laugh.

“Let’s settle this like we always do, woman. By bloody fucking.”

That was your bond with Sandor Clegane.

Raw, primal, and savage. A connection forged not in silk or songs, but in need and flesh.

In a court full of schemers, Sandor had become your loyal fighting dog. A strong and steadfast ally who, far beyond conventions and traditional forms of courtship, sought pleasure in the shadows of your chamber whenever his duties afforded him a respite. No honeyed words, no pleasantries to soften the edge, what existed between you neither of you had yet named, it simply burned.

But for all that he was fierce and deadly, he was just as damned insecure when it came to you. The man hated himself more than anything else in the world, and that festering self-loathing convinced him that he was unworthy of your attentions. You had lain together more times than you could count, yet every time he walked away from your door, the shadow of the thought that it might have been the last time he held you in his arms, tormented him.

Ironically, that self-contempt never drove him to step back and set you free.

Gods, no.

You were the best thing that had ever happened to him in all his wretched life, and the fear of losing you terrified him more than burning in the fires of the Seven Hells. For all of that, he had become fiercely possessive and aggressively hostile toward any man who dared to come near you.

Of course, you were well aware of it. You had confronted him about it on several occasions, but instead of the situation improving, it had only worsened. And there were many men now with broken ribs and noses, all for nothing more than offering their hand to help you down from a carriage.

That very afternoon, the court’s new tailor had come to your chambers to take your measurements for a new gown. Hours later, word reached you that the poor man had been found beaten in an alleyway. Three molars was he seen to spit out.

It was intolerable.

When Sandor came to your room later that evening, you raised your voice before he even stepped past the threshold. You would not endure another outburst of savage jealousy, no matter if he was the king’s dog.

The argument was fierce. One more among the countless ones you'd already had over the same matter. Gruff and scornful, he did not yield to your shouting, flinging back every reproach with twice the venom. Both of you said things you regretted the moment they left your mouths, and then, in an attempt to end the quarrel and set things right, Sandor resorted to what always worked for you both. He lifted your body mid-sentence, cutting you off in the roughest way and tossing you unceremoniously onto the bed.

You both enjoyed the fantasy of the helpless maiden being forced by a warrior. Every time, Sandor would ravage you with the fury of a charging beast, claiming every inch of you while the intense pleasure drowned your reproaches in gasps and moans.

But tonight, you weren’t having it.

As you kept fighting and begging him to release you, the hand gripping your head released you to shift behind your back. The metallic clinking you knew all too well told you he was unbuckling his belt. You kicked harder, striking his thigh. The attack only earned you another coarse laugh and a harsher grip on your hips.

“That’s it, woman,” came his vicious voice from above, “give me an excuse to get rough.”

Furious and with a fire rising uncontrollably in your chest, you braced your hands on the mattress, screaming and shoving hard to twist beneath him. So much rage must have poured from your throat that the man, startled, eased his weight for you to turn onto your back. You pushed up onto your elbows, and your hand shot upward in a wide arc aimed at his scarred cheek. The man caught your wrist with the swiftness of a wolfhound, stopping you just an inch from his face.

Something shattered between you.

You both were breathing hard from the surge of adrenaline. Your lips parted and trembled. In his eyes burned a storm of fury and endless sorrow in equal measure. He released your wrist roughly and tilted his burned chin upward.

“Go on. Slap me if that’s what you want,” he whispered hoarsely, offering you that terrible, ruined face.

You stared at him with a glacial glare, but the words you spoke next were colder still.

“Get out. If you cannot master yourself… if you cannot set aside your pride over this, then do not come back to me,” you said, heart thundering against your ribs as though the Smith himself were trying to shatter your ribcage from within.

Sandor’s dark eyes dimmed in an instant. He gave you the emptiest, deadest look as he straightened up. The space that opened between your body and his burned like a wound. He didn’t speak another word, only fastened his belt in silence, bowed his head, and turned toward the door with heavy, miserable steps.

The sound of the iron bolt slamming shut made you flinch, though that wasn’t why your hands were shaking.

-*-

An entire sennight passed without either of you speaking again. He didn’t come looking for you. And you spent your days surrounded by your ladies-in-waiting, distracting yourself as best you could with the tasks of daily life - reading, chatting, or embroidering.

You would lie if you said you didn’t miss him terribly. Every morning, you woke to find your bed empty and cold, and the aching pain in your guts only grew with each passing day.

Often, when you found yourself in the Great Hall and King Joffrey honored you all with his presence, your eyes would drift toward the space behind the throne. For just a few seconds, they would linger on the threatening shadow that always stood there - alert and vigilant. Yet you would barely catch a glimpse of his worn chestplate before your gaze quickly withdrew, fearing you would meet his eyes.

Before you even realized, the week had turned to two. The court was immersed in preparations for King Joffrey’s name day. Banquets, royal hunts, tournaments... Everyone spoke eagerly about it, for an event of such caliber was always cause for joy and merriment.

The ladies whispered among themselves at the imminent arrival of the handsome knights who would ride in the jousts. Most attention was on the Tyrell and Tarly houses, though some lesser houses like the Swyfts, Leffords, and Westerlings also drew interest. Such a display of beauty, wealth, and power left hardly anyone indifferent.

You, however, paid no mind to the ladies' gossip. Nor did you care in the slightest about the upcoming events. Dismissing your ladies-in-waiting, you spent most of your time in solitude, wandering quietly through the blooming gardens around the Red Keep.

Your mind wandered time and time again to Sandor Clegane. You missed his gravelly voice, the scent of metal, earth, and sweat after a day in the training yard. You missed his presence, feared by all, but comforting to you. You couldn’t understand how a man who had told you he was willing to lay down his life for you couldn’t set aside his pride if you asked him. Perhaps there were different kinds of courage? Perhaps you weren’t important enough to him?

Your thoughts caught in your throat as you fiddled with the peas on your silver plate. You didn’t even know why you had come to lunch in the Great Hall that day. Your stomach struggled to accept the food, and the frantic hustle and bustle of the servants, carrying banners of the houses for the next day’s tournament, was irritating. With a long sigh, you placed your ivory-handled fork on the table and made to rise.

A beautiful white rose greeted you as you stood, held by delicate hands that extended it gracefully before your eyes.

"For you, milady, if I may be so bold,” the bearer of the rose spoke. “I saw you admiring the flowers earlier in the gardens, and though none could compare to your beauty, perhaps this one might help soften the sadness in your eyes."

Your gaze focused on the young man. He was lovely as a maid, with a crown of chestnut curls and eyes like molten gold. The knight of flowers, you thought. Of course, the guests had already arrived for the festivities, and you had hardly noticed. He would likely be competing in the joust tomorrow.

“Thank you, Ser,” you said, taking the flower and smiling politely at him. He offered you a radiant smile of his own, full of perfect white teeth.

“Ser Loras Tyrell, at your service, my lady,” he said in a pleasant voice, then gently brought your hand to his lips.

Your smile seemed to please him, as he offered you his arm with an elegant movement that made his cloak flutter.

“It’s a splendid day. Will you walk with me? I promise to be an entertaining companion and keep you safe from... any possible bee stings we may chance upon in the garden."

His boldness, combined with his light sense of humor, made you laugh. It was a discreet laugh, but sincere and spontaneous. You realized then that you hadn’t laughed in a long time. After a brief moment of thought, you concluded that you could use some flattery from this man who seemed more than willing to make you smile and delight your ears.

“Of course,” you answered, taking his arm.

Loras Tyrell kept his promise to be a pleasant and courteous escort. He was everything Sandor Clegane despised. A man who set himself upon a pedestal, the very picture of all the virtues enshrined in the noble code of chivalry. In little more than an hour, he had boasted of his valor and piety more times than you cared to count.

You had long since ceased to be a girl who believed in such fool’s tales of gallant knights. Sandor had seen to that. And far were you from being the swooning, starry-eyed damsel the famed Knight of the Flowers had taken you for.

But truth be told, you were enjoying yourself, and his knowledge of the different types of flowers that adorned the garden was quite impressive. You were both watching with interest the way the fruits of the trees had ripened, when the childish voice of King Joffrey came from behind you.

“Ah, Ser Loras, I see you are enjoying… the flowers of the court.”

“Your Grace,” you immediately turned and curtsied, lowering your eyes to the floor. The boy was vile and cruel, but for some reason, he seemed to take a liking to you. Who knew for how long.

He prompted you to lift your face. Behind him, his guard dog loomed like an imposing, dangerous black shadow. You didn’t look at him directly, but you felt his eyes first settle on Loras’s arm around yours, then on the white rose you held in your hand. The king’s fingers, laden with gold rings, gently brushed your chin.

“And what better flower than my lady. Beautifully bloomed, but still not watered.”

“Indeed, Your Majesty,” Ser Loras replied, his caramel-colored eyes gazing at you.

Fortunately, you were an expert in the art of subtlety. But by the gods, it was hard to maintain your composure and not scoff at his words. Out of habit, your eyes searched for a hint of complicity in Sandor’s gaze. He would usually return your glance with a nearly imperceptible twitch or a roll of his eyes.

But today, your gaze did nothing to change the unreadable face he wore. His eyes were fixed on a point behind you, and his mask of indifference felt like a thousand wasp stings to your already shattered heart.

The conversation between the two men continued, talking about the weather and the joust the following day. After an exchange of compliments, the king made his desire to continue his walk known. Ser Loras made a small bow and secured his arm around yours. You lowered your head as the little Lannister held your hand to kiss it.

The small royal procession resumed its march, and so did the metallic clinking of Sandor’s armor with every step. He stood more than a head taller than your escort as he passed by your side. His white cloak brushed your hip in passing, but his gaze remained fixed ahead, his brow set in a deep frown. On another occasion, he might have slipped a gauntleted hand over your skirt without anyone noticing. Impossible to do so now, with his fist tense and closed around the hilt of his sword.

Your walk with Ser Loras lasted little longer. Your guts were twisted into the world's tightest, ugliest knot, but you could not tell him so. The setting sun on the horizon provided the perfect excuse to retire to your chambers. Even so, he insisted on accompanying you.

Once in your room, your mind spun around the way Sandor had ignored you in the gardens. You collapsed onto the bed, still dressed and with your shoes on, and covered your face with your hands.

Was it over? Was this how your encounters would end?

You were angry with him for being unable to contain his possessive impulses. What were these terrible jealousies born of? Hadn't you shown him, time and time again, by dishonoring your name and risking your reputation, that you had no affections for anyone else?

Affections, you thought. When had he ever shown you affection? Desire, yes. Lust and passion, too. But affection? Your body shuddered at the thought. It was true that The Hound was not a man of sweet words. But still, you longed for him to verbally express his feelings for you.

If he had any.

Nothing would please you more than to hear from his lips what every lady dreamed of hearing from her chosen knight. A bitter and sad laugh escaped your chest. You were ashamed of longing for those words, but most of all, you knew he would never utter them in his life.

Your eyes wandered across your room until they landed on the upper frame of the door. You remembered your first kiss. The way you had stood on your toes in the hallway, tugging at his gorget to pull him down to you. He had pressed his lips to yours with inexperienced fervor as you stumbled blindly into your chambers, so enthralled that he forgot to duck upon entering and struck his forehead against the frame.

That night, you had been equals.

For you, it was the first time you had a man between your thighs, his body starving for warmth as it entered yours, pressing into your maidenhead with a wildness you had never known before.

And for him? It was the first time he kissed, and was kissed in return. The first time he held a woman in his arms, chests bumping against one another as you looked him in the eyes - unafraid, and with no coin to be counted afterward.

Uncontrollable sobs shook your chest. You pulled your knees up to your chest, hugging them tightly in search of some comfort.

It never came. You slept poorly, on a pillow soaked with bitter, hot tears.

-*-

The next morning, the sound of hurried footsteps interrupted the little sleep you had managed to grasp. Heavy curtains were drawn apart, and the sudden, bothersome light that poured through the window fell cruelly upon your reddened eyelids.

“My lady, we must make haste. In less than two hours you are expected in the stands,” urged the sharp yet pleasant voice of your handmaid.

You let out a groan most unbefitting of a lady as the woman helped you sit up in bed. Without saying a word about why you had passed the night fully clothed, she unlaced your shoes and prompted another maid to bring a porcelain basin filled with cold water. At the far end of your chamber, two girls pulled your new dress from the wardrobe and brushed it with haste.

“My lady, your face looks weary. Are you unwell?” the same woman asked, frowning as she patted your cheeks with a damp cloth.

You shook your head, though you should have said yes, had you remembered your duties for the day.

“Thank the gods,” she added as she refreshed your neck and shoulders. “It would be a shame if you could not attend the tourney.”

Your eyes widened at once.

The tourney.

“Oh no.” You stared at her with round, tearful eyes. “No... I don’t want to go…”

"You must go, my lady," she said, helping you to your feet. "The king expects you in the noble stands. The entire royal family is counting on your presence… and the lords."

A short gasp escaped your lips as she stripped you down, leaving you as bare as on your name day. Behind you, the other girls whispered to one another about how handsome the knights might be. You cared for none of it. All you wanted was to return to your bed and weep.

While you put on fresh smallclothes, your handmaid held up two dresses, one in each hand. You shook your head, refusing to cooperate, but before you realized it, she had tossed them both on the bed and was pulling a tight corset over your head. You grasped one of the bedposts and let her lace the strings, too exhausted to protest.

“My lady, many knights will look at you today…” she tried to lift your spirits as she cinched the garment around your waist.

You exhaled, dry and mocking. You had not the slightest interest in any knight watching you. The maid mistook your contempt for mere doubt, and as she chose the more elegant of the two dresses you had dismissed, she went on, hopeful.

“Perhaps one of them might even fight for you.”

You barely heard her. Your arms and legs had gone weak as the beautiful velvet gown slipped over your skin.

Once fully clothed, you let your weight fall onto the chair before your vanity. Someone had left a silver tray with grapes and a honey-scented tea on it. As your handmaid undid the messy braid from the day before, you picked a grape and bit into it. Its juice burst across your tongue, far too sweet for the sadness that lingered within you. When the maid finished a hairstyle that highlighted your beauty and grace, she leaned slightly toward you and smiled at you through the mirror.

"The whole court is talking about how Ser Loras Tyrell was enchanted by you while you walked the gardens yesterday."

You sighed. The memory of your garden stroll brought with it a far more bitter one. Sandor Clegane, standing behind the king and ignoring you. The woman must have mistaken again your frailty for love’s weakness, for she carried on.

“He is a handsome man. All the ladies of the court envy you.”

“They’ve nothing to envy,” you said in a somber tone. The last thing you needed was all the women of the court against you.

Your handmaid smiled again, then held up a lovely pearl necklace between her fingers as she looked at you through the mirror. You shook your head, and she frowned when she saw you reach for a simple silk ribbon instead, tying it around your neck as an ornament. It was not the choice she would have made for such a dress, but given your mood, she let it be.

“You look radiant," she said in a last attempt to draw a smile from you. "They say Ser Loras always rides with a white rose tied to his lance. I’m certain he’ll ask for your favor and offer it to you.”

Her effort failed, for you froze.

Gods help you if the man were foolish enough to do such a thing.

-*-

No matter how quickly your maids worked, you were among the last ladies to arrive at the festivities. The master of ceremonies had already begun announcing the tournament. The knights who would face each other had been called, and their titles declared.

The noble stands teemed with color and silk, each house proud in its finery. Ladies whispered behind lace fans while their lords murmured wagers on the tilt below. It was crowded with spectators from all corners of the realm, and the seat you usually occupied had already been taken by another lady. As soon as she saw you, she rose and offered you your chair, but you motioned for her to stay, taking a seat lower down with a poorer view.

More discreet, you thought. Much better.

Once settled, your gaze drifted to the royal stand, where the king and queen offered you a slight nod of acknowledgment. You did the same, with an elegant but brief curtsy.

It did not escape your notice that Sandor Clegane was not behind the lions. Instead, two members of the Kingsguard stood on either side of the king. You found it odd that, on such an important and crowded day, the royal family had dispensed with their dog’s services. The king had many enemies, and many of them were fool enough to try to harm him even in broad daylight.

Then your gaze swept over the muddy jousting field. The earth had been compressed, but the rain had left the ground soft and unstable, unfavorable for heavier horses. Squires and stableboys ran from side to side adjusting saddles, sharpening lances, or preparing ornate armors.

You leaned back in your seat with disinterest. The rasping, scornful voice of the Hound could almost be heard in your head, mocking the false fanfare of the knights and the fevered glances the perfumed ladies cast upon them. The man had infected you with his distaste for such a circus, though the little girl inside you still sometimes dreamed of romance.

Only sometimes, and always in embarrassment, for he was right. They were cunts, the lot of them, with coin and nothing better to do.

With little enthusiasm, you watched as several knights took the field. The stands roared with fervor when Ser Jaime Lannister unhorsed Lord Bryce Caron in a single tilt. You merely sighed under your breath and offered a brief, courteous clap. Then came Ser Balon Swann, Lord Renly, and Lord Beric Dondarrion, all of them as effective and victorious as they were boring to you.

The entrance of an elegant, grey mare, led by a young squire, confirmed that the next participant would be the Knight of the Flowers. The ladies in the stands gasped, and a great ovation arose from the spectators as Loras Tyrell, in his silver armor adorned with sapphires and black vines, appeared before the crowd. A white rose was indeed tied to his lance. You immediately lowered your eyes.

By the Seven, may he not see me and approach.

Your eyes were still fixed on the ground when you heard a familiar neigh and the sound of heavy horse hooves sinking into the mud.

Your heart slammed against your ribs.

Stranger.

The applause of the stands dwindled, and you immediately raised your head to look at Sandor Clegane, guiding his enormous, ill-tempered stallion across the tiltyard.

“Do not worry, my lady,” said a nearby lord. “Ser Loras is skilled with a lance and will defend himself.”

You barely heard him, so focused you were on the black steed and its rider. He wore the same battered, blackened armor as always. Unlike his opponent, he did not look at the crowd. His gaze was fixed on his nervous mount, which whinnied and resisted.

You looked at the horse with a tightness in your chest. You knew him well. When you crossed paths with Sandor in the stables, the sullen animal would nudge you gently with its muzzle. Sandor often jested about this, reprimanding him for stealing all your attention. The black destrier was as strong and stubborn as they came, and the jousts made him nervous. That was why Sandor rarely participated in them. And that was why he was patting the beast affectionately as they were met with boos and jeers from the stands.

Your blood boiled in your veins. Normally, no one would dare boo Sandor Clegane. But in tournaments, there were always favorites, and the anonymity of the stands gave rise to such things. In any case, as much as it enraged you, Sandor was used to not having the favor of the crowd. And he couldn’t give less of a damn.

Once he managed to calm Stranger down, he placed his dreadful, dog’s helmet on, put a foot in the stirrup, and mounted upon the warhorse in search of a lance. Meanwhile, Ser Loras Tyrell was helped into the saddle by his squire, more concerned with the mud staining his gleaming armor. Then, the Knight of Flowers spurred his mare into a slow trot, and wherever he rode, was met with applause.

From the other side, the Hound had already chosen any available lance to compete and was rotating his right shoulder to warm up. He then leaned forward in his saddle, whispered something to the horse and tightened the reins to urge it into a gallop across the tiltyard.

“Whoa!” he bellowed, and the horse’s hooves sank into the mud as its rider brought it to a halt before the noble stands. The ladies gasped and squealed. The lords hissed. You watched the scene with wide eyes, unable to understand.

Sandor Clegane seemed confused. He looked this way and that at the crowd, angrily raising the visor of his helmet to get a better view. The horse, sensing its rider’s confusion, snorted nervously. Sandor yanked the reins to one side and urged the animal forward a few paces along the stands, his eyes still fixed on the crowd. Some women looked away as he passed directly before them, but he kept searching.

Searching.

Then you understood. He was looking for the place where you always sat. The spot that, due to your tardiness, was now occupied by another lady.

In an almost involuntary act of compassion, you leaned forward and rested your arms on the wooden railing, making yourself stand out in the crowd. And just then, Sandor Clegane’s dark eyes fixed on you.

“Hyah!” he bellowed, and Stranger seemed to recognize you as well, for it trotted cheerfully up to stand right in front of you.

The women around you held their breath as Sandor’s gloved hand reached for his helmet and yanked it upward, freeing himself from it before you. You felt your blood pulse strongly through your veins. The entire crowd fell silent as the man gazed at you wordlessly, with a seriousness that surpassed his usual sullen expression. His black eyes were locked onto yours like two dark prayers. Still, you could see the devotion behind the darkness. A devotion he had never failed to hold since the first time moment your paths crossed.

“Hey, dog!” you heard the impatient voice of the king shout from the royal stand, “your place is on the other side!”

At this, some in the crowd laughed. Yet Sandor did not avert his gaze from you, nor did you from him. Stranger took a step forward without any command from its rider, and in that moment, the man raised his voice, speaking before the entire kingdom the words he never thought he would say in all his miserable life.

“I ask for the lady’s favor!”

The crowd fell silent once more. The request was more a roar than a spoken plea, likely an attempt to impose his will over his own embarrassment. Your bewilderment kept your body from reacting, not even a breath of air entered your lungs.

Sandor’s deep eyes stared at you with intensity, waiting for your answer. His face was serious, but the unscarred side of his face betrayed a sadness. The soft chuckles returned to the stands, and you realized that your inaction was making a fool of him.

You snapped back to yourself. With a force that nearly made you jump from your seat, you stood up and said in the loudest, clearest voice you could muster.

“You have it, Sandor Clegane. May honor and victory ride with your lance.”

The last words came out somewhat hoarsely. No knight had ever asked for your favor, and you’d never rehearsed the scene. You didn’t know if your words had been the right ones, but what mattered was showing your support to him. And the way the harsh lines of his face softened made you think you had done it right.

Your lips trembled with emotion before curling into a beautiful smile. His eyes lit up at that, and the unburned corner of his mouth twitched upward into the grimace he often made when he saw something that pleased him.

You thought that with that exchange, the man would turn Stranger and the tournament would begin. But he didn’t move. He stayed rooted in the sand, staring at you. Around you, whispers began to rise again in the stands. You looked at the people, confused, and Sandor’s voice made you focus your eyes back on him.

“The token, my lady…” he said softly, his brow quirked with slight amusement.

Oh! How could you be so foolish! You had to give him something! Stricken with the nervousness of feeling all eyes on you, your mind seemed too clouded to think clearly.

You weren’t wearing jewelry, nor a veil. You weren’t wearing gloves, nor had you made a flower crown... Your hands fumbled clumsily over the sleeves of your dress, searching for a handkerchief, but finding nothing. Then they climbed up to your neck and, trembling, untied the simple silk ribbon you had chosen that morning.

Sandor removed his leather glove and raised his hand to meet yours as you held onto the railing. Were it not dulled by blows, his spaulder might have nearly gleamed with the movement. He closed his hand around yours, and his thick thumb briefly caressed your knuckles. Your heart seemed to leap out of your mouth. The roughness of his hand felt incredibly sweet against your skin after so many days without his touch. The gesture was inappropriately intimate for such a moment, and even the horse seemed to notice, for from the royal stand they watched the animal wag its tail and bring its rider even closer to you.

“Dog!” the king called out with a mocking tone, “Your beast seems to be in love with the lady!”

Sandor grunted, making himself heard over the laughter that echoed through the stands.

“Aye!” He growled, then you heard his voice again, a rough whisper meant for your ears alone. “He loves her. Deeply… and more than his own damn pride.”

The warmth that spilled far beyond your chest made your heart swell, and you laughed, breathless and lowering your head to hide the flush that bloomed across your cheeks. In his eyes burned a desperate question he could not bring himself to ask, but the glimmer in your eyes when you looked up again, put an end to his torment.

Reconciliation.

You were granting him leave to come to you that night.

Sandor drew his hand away from yours and carefully tucked the ribbon into a slit of his vambrace. Then, he dipped his head to you, and after you nodded, kicked his horse into a gallop to take his place upon the tiltyard.

-*-

Ser Loras proved to be a swift and skilled opponent on horseback, but Sandor Clegane won the tournament that day.

How could he not, with you by his side?

But that night, amidst tears and caresses and embraces in your chamber, he won something far more important than applause or a purse of coins. For as he made a commitment of restraint, he earned your forgiveness and your trust. He earned the delight of your smile, and the warmth of your laughter. And kissing you almost as a knight of old would, he earned the beats of your heart, sealing his bond to you with a promise of loyalty and eternal love.

...............

Thanks for reading! <3

What do you think? A comment would give me life, and encourage me to write more :)

#jintaka stuff #sandor clegane x you #sandor clegane fanfic #sandor clegane #sandor the hound clegane #sandor clegane x reader #sandor x reader #the hound fanfic #the hound x reader #x reader #sandor the hound x reader #the hound got

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sunsburns · 16 days ago

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sixty-nine with john walker... just walk with me, i promise to hold your hand. post-thunderbolts*, fem!reader, explicit smut; mdni

Date nights were rare in your relationship with John Walker. Not because he didn’t try—he did, often, with that gravel-soft voice and a hand on your hip, muttering about some new place he wanted to take you. But between the endless missions, debriefs, roommates, and training, time together came in borrowed slices. Never enough.

Tonight was supposed to be different. You’d carved out the time, picked out a dress you knew he would love, spent nearly an hour getting ready; hair done, jewellery clasped, perfume dabbed on the pulse points he liked to kiss. The table was reserved. The car was waiting.

But you never made it past the bedroom mirror.

Not when John stepped up behind you, his presence so massive you felt it before you saw him. His hands found your waist like they always did, and his mouth pressed hot to the side of your neck. “You look beautiful.”

His kisses turned open-mouthed, sloppy, dragging down the curve of your neck, teeth grazing just enough to make your stomach twist with heat. In the mirror, his eyes locked with yours, and despite the way your breath hitched, an excited smile tugged at your lips. You could never hide how much you liked it when he got like this. You didn’t even try.

Your mascara was smudged before your heels even came off. Lipstick smeared across his mouth, your throat, his jaw. His shirt, freshly ironed, hung open on his chest, buttons ripped loose by your eager hands that were splayed across his chest—hot, solid muscle, the kind that always made you feel safe.

The air was heavy. Perfume. Colongue. Sweat. Sex.

It clung to your skin, made your head spin. Your body burned like the inside of a shower after the water’s been left running too long, flushed with heat, pulsing at the centre. And then he was lowering you onto the bed, only to turn you around and tug you backwards again—closer, closer, until you were straddling his face, thighs trembling around his head like you’d done this a hundred times (you had) and still couldn’t quite handle how easily he manhandles you.

You’re drooling a little bit, nails digging into the skin of John’s thick thighs as he pulls you down harder. He’s been insatiable lately, more vocal about what he wants, and one thing he’s never been shy about is how much he loves you on his face. Loves the way your pussy drips for him, the way the weight of you settles over his mouth like you were meant to be there. You feel it every time in the way he groans, the way he holds you still and eats you.

And you have to admit—it makes you dizzy. The way he handles you like nothing in the world matters more than keeping you close, eating you slow and deep, tongue dragging deliberate, sinful strokes through your folds until you’re whimpering with every breath. He groans low in his throat like he’s starved, like he wants to crawl inside you and stay.

His arms bulge as he tightens his grip, pulling you closer until your thighs tremble around his head. Your head drops, eyes wet with pleasure, barely able to blink through the blur of tears. But you catch it—his hips twitching under your palms.

His black slacks are still on, belt undone, button popped open, zipper down. His cock strains against the front of his boxers, a thick, dark patch blooming with precum. He’s leaking for you, turned on beyond reason just from tasting you. He usually always gets like this whenever his head is between your legs, though.

Neither of you had the patience to get undressed properly. Your dress is bunched high around your hips, one strap sliding off your shoulder. Your panties had been pushed aside hastily, now clinging to one thigh, while John’s shirt hangs open and damp, clinging to his sweat-slick skin.

Another stroke of his tongue has you shuddering above him, a moan spilling from your lips as your body rocks forward. The scratch of his beard catches against your swollen clit, and your eyes roll back as he circles it again, tongue confident, controlled. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

He makes you feel so good, so wanted, so thoroughly undone. But you want more. You want him shaking and soaked in it. It would be a damn shame to let him do all the work.

Not that he’d ever stop you.

Without thinking, you’re shifting forward slightly, propping yourself up just enough to lean down. One hand snakes, slipping beneath the waistband of his boxers, and you find him easily.

Hard. Hot. Dripping.

He practically springs free, flushed a deep, needy red, and already leaking at the tip. Precum smears across your palm as you wrap your fingers around him, and that’s when he stutters beneath you, his tongue faltering, hips jerking involuntarily into your hand.

You don’t give him a chance to recover.

You lean down and take the head of his cock into your mouth, slow and deliberate, your tongue circling the crown before you start stroking him with your fist. He groans loudly, caught off guard, and his arms tighten around your thighs like he’s trying to anchor himself, fingers digging into your skin.

You start slobbering on him, spit sliding down your wrist and pooling into the thick thatch of dirty blond hair at the base. That same trail of hair disappears beneath the open lines of his shirt, dusting over the hard muscle of his abs, his chest, his arms—every part of him strong and taut, strained with effort as he tries to keep his mouth on you through it all.

You wonder, for a split second, why you haven’t done this before—both, at once; take as much as you can give.

Your hips rock slightly against his face on instinct, but his grip doesn’t loosen. If anything, it tightens. He holds you down, locked in place, tongue working between your folds with a new desperation, grinding his mouth against you like he’s trying to win back control.

But he’s not stopping you. Shit, he wouldn’t dare.

He bucks his hips again, gasping, raspy and low, when you kitten-lick the underside of his tip, your tongue soft but teasing, cruel in its patience. The muscles in his arms flex, corded and trembling as he tries to keep his rhythm, but it’s falling apart fast. You hollow your cheeks and take more of him, swallowing him down inch by inch while his groans dissolve into helpless, broken sounds against your cunt.

“Fuck,” he rasps, the word barely audible over the wet sounds between your thighs. He inhales deeply, greedy for the scent of you, and then he dives back in like a man starved. His tongue swirls and dips, teasing, fucking into your dripping hole just to feel the way you flutter around him.

A sound escapes you, a broken, whiney, cut-off sound, as he thrusts his tongue deeper, like he’s trying to brand the shape of you into memory. Then his hand sneaks down, rough fingers steadying your hips as his thumb finds your clit and presses down in a tight, perfect circle.

Your moan travels straight down his cock, vibrating against the head, and he shudders beneath you. You pull off with a gasp, breath catching as you blink through the haze, lips shiny with spit.

“John… shit,” you breathe, pouty and wrecked, grinding back against his face like you don’t even care how messy it gets. And John loves it. Still sucking, still licking, still fucking you open with his tongue. His thumb doesn't slow. If anything, it circles tighter, faster, cruel in its precision.

“Y-you—s’good, baby,” you whimper, voice breaking.

He groans into you, nodding like he’s trying to say I know, but he won’t stop long enough to say it out loud. Just keeps working his mouth, his hand, chasing that stuttering gasp in your throat like it’s the only reward he wants.

Your hands keep stroking him, but your rhythm falters, your whole body shaking from the steady pulse of pleasure growing sharper with every pass of his thumb. Your thighs are trembling. Your head tips forward. You moan, soft and broken.

John pauses, just for a second. He pulls back with a low breath, ignoring the whimper that slips from your throat at the loss of his mouth.

“Don’t stop,” he rasps against your skin. “Keep goin’, yeah?”

One of his hands slides off your thigh, calloused fingers dragging firm and slow over the curve of your ass. His palm lingers there, squeezing just once before it glides up your back in a hot, steady line.

Your dress is backless, thin straps slipping from your shoulders, the fabric pooling loosely around your waist, and it gives him everything. Skin, warmth, the slight arch of your spine under his touch. His fingers splay wide as they trace the dip of your lower back, then sweep higher, knuckles brushing along your ribs before he plants his hand flat between your shoulder blades.

The heat of his skin on yours makes you shiver, your whole body tensing at the contact. His hand is big, possessive, grounding you, and when he presses down, gently but firmly, your breath catches.

Your chest dips, lips brushing against the base of his cock again as he urges your mouth closer to him again.

“C’mon, baby,” he murmurs, voice low and rough with want. “Don’t be a brat.” The words are half-scolding, half pleading. “Keep suckin’ me off. It’s good… You’re so good.”

And then he’s right back where he left off, licking into you with a desperate hunger, like your hesitation only made him more determined to ruin you. His thumb finds your clit again and starts up its cruel rhythm, and the pressure he keeps on your back pins you in place, right where he wants you.

Right where you want to be.

His cock twitches against your lips, flushed and wet, begging for your mouth and you don’t make him wait. You take him again, eager and messy, and the second your lips seal around the head, he groans against your cunt, hips bucking up with a stuttered grind.

“Yeah, honey,” he pants against you, satisfied. “Just like that. Love... I love that mouth.”

John moans into you, low and guttural, letting the sound vibrate through you. You twitch above him, thighs trembling, a breathless sound breaking in your throat as his tongue laves you open again.

The weight of him on your tongue feels deliriously good, heavy, hot, insistent, and he starts to rut up into your mouth, hips jerking, and then he speeds up with his mouth, tries to chase your orgasm before his.

You take the bait, smirking against his cock. One of your hands slips down between his legs to fondle his balls, cupping and rolling them in your palm. John keens—a broken, high moan—and his hips buck hard. He pulls back from your soaked cunt with a choked, “Fuck,” breathing ragged as his cock drives deeper into your mouth. You hollow your cheeks and suck him greedily, letting spit slip past your lips, your throat tight around him.

John whines, the sound all tangled with want and disbelief. “Uh, fuck—fuck, yeah, baby… yeah, keep doin’ that,” he gasps, voice fraying.

You moan around him, unable to do much else as he grips your hair and presses you down. His other hand slides down from your thigh, groping your ass, fingers digging in and spreading you wider for him, even now, like he needs you open for him, even as he teeters on the edge.

You squeeze his balls again, add a little scratch up his thigh over his pants, and that’s what breaks him.

Hot ropes of cum shoot across your tongue, salty and thick, and you swallow instinctively what you can as his cock twitches. It’s messy, slick dripping down your chin, drool mixing with cum, running in thick strands down his cock. John’s hips stutter, a wrecked sound pulling from his chest as he shakes beneath you, his whole body shivering under your hands.

You let him go with a soft pop, lips spit-slick and eyes half-lidded as he pants beneath you, flushed and ruined.

And yet—yet—his hands are already on your hips, gripping tight like he’s just caught a second wind.

Beating him to the punch has only fueled him to go on.

“Sit up, hun’,” he rasps, voice still hoarse. You push off him with wobbly arms, and he helps guide you, stroking his palms along your thighs like he’s grounding you, but really, he’s just being gentle as he lines you up.

He yanks you down, dragging you back over his face with a strength that makes your stomach flip.

“C’mon, sit on my face again. Lemme make you cum, we can still make it for the reservation.”

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jellofish-plant · 2 months ago

Text

Sleep is Safer With You

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Genre: Fluff | Hurt/Comfort | Slice of Life | Angst (Soft) Setting: Gotham City Jason’s apartment, post-patrol nights and lazy weekends

[Masterlist]

🛏️ Jason Todd x Reader – Sleeping Positions Headcanons 🖤

1. The Protective Big Spoon (default setting) Jason always gravitates to spooning you. It’s his instinct his way of keeping you safe even while he sleeps. His arms lock around your waist, legs tangled with yours, and his chest pressed against your back. Sometimes he tucks his face into your neck or hair. If he wakes up and you're not in his arms? He instantly panics a little.

2. The “I Had a Nightmare” Cling On nights when the ghosts creep in—memories of the Pit, of death, of loss he clings to you like a lifeline. Doesn’t matter how you’re laying, he’ll pull you into him, bury his face in your chest or shoulder, and hold on like you’re the only real thing keeping him grounded.

3. The Lazy Entanglement Weekend mornings are for limbs everywhere. Jason sprawls across the bed like a human furnace, with one leg over your thigh, an arm across your stomach, and his head resting somewhere on your shoulder or chest. He’s heavy, warm, and impossible to escape from not that you’d want to.

4. The Reverse Pillow Sometimes, after patrol, when he's too sore or emotionally exhausted, he’ll lie on top of you with his head resting on your stomach. Your fingers in his hair soothe him faster than any painkiller. You become the pillow, the anchor, the calm.

5. The “I’m Mad But I Still Love You” Back-to-Back If you’ve had an argument and neither of you are quite ready to talk… he’ll turn his back to you in bed, stiff and silent. But he always keeps just close enough that your backs still touch. It’s his silent way of saying “I’m upset, but I’m not going anywhere.”

6. The Night Owl Snuggle You’re already asleep when Jason finally gets home. He’ll silently crawl into bed, press a kiss to your forehead, and pull you into him. You often wake up in the middle of the night to his arms around you and his heartbeat steady in your ear.

7. The “You’re My Home” Wrap-Around After particularly hard days or bad missions he just needs all of you. He’ll pull you into his lap while you’re under the covers, arms around your waist, face buried in your neck or shoulder. You might fall asleep like that, in a messy knot of comfort and desperation.

Tag list:

@dreamzaremyrealityy

@not-herexo

@a-brilliante-mariposa

@fandomtrashsblog

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outsideratheart · 2 months ago

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You didn’t fail me (Alexia Putellas x reader)

A/N: My first fic in a while. I hope you all like it. In the name of honesty this has been in my drafts for about a week but I forgot to post it.

Very few times in your life had you found yourself speechless. Never like this and never whilst watching Barcelona play. You had a brutal case of Broncitus that had left you on the sidelines for a few weeks now which was the reason why you wasn’t in the starting line up.

Jana's goal was fair and you would die on the hill protesting that there was no offisde in the play. When the ref made the call the bench was on their feet ready to storm the pitch.

Then Real Madrid scored. They had the lead for the second time in this game and quite frankly you had had enough.

Breathing was painful at times but you were almost back to full health. You were on the bench but the plan was never to have you play, in fact it was advised against, but you found yourself in Pere's face demanding him to put you on.

"Y/N, I cannot allow that" Pere tried to talk you down but it wasn't working.

"No! You cannot allow that shit show to continue. Sub me on. Now"

Pere looked at you and you could tell he was thinking about it. His features softened and his eyebrows furrowed. In that moment you knew he was trying to workout who best to bring off.

"Ale" you answered the question for him "Straight sub, me for her. Let me get control of the midfield. Besides I won't be able to play with her worrying about me. Plus by the looks of it she is seconds away from getting a second yellow"

Both of your attentions went back to the pitch were Alexia and Esme were still argueing with the referee. You were just as mad as they were but they needed to move on. In football you needed to be a goldfish.

"She will worry. We all will" You were one of his players but he also knew you were human who wasn't 100%.

"Let her worry from the bench"

He nodded and those were the last words exhcanged. You went back over to the bench to grab your shin pads and take off your quarter zip.

Meanwhile Alexia was growing more and more frustrated with the way the game was being played and deep down she knew she wasn't having the best game. When she saw the board go up she saw her number but didn't even pay attention to the number beside it. Quickly she ran over to Patri to give her the armband only for her to refuse it.

"I'm not the captain. Y/N is" Patri said which was common knowledge within the team.

"She isn't playing and now neither am I. Take it so we can get on with the game" Still, Alexia was oblivous.

It is only when Patri turns Alexia's shoulder to the sidelines does she release who is replacing her. The balon d'Or winner was ready to kill her coach for playing you.

You could see the furiousity on your girlfriend's face but now wasn't the time. The clock was running down and there was less than ten minutes left in the game.

"Y/N, you aren-"

"Give me the band Ale"

You were mad and Alexia knew you had every right to be. Your mood didn't bother her but your condition plus the weather was a reason for concern.

She watched as you ran onto the pitch quickly. Misa was trying to run down the clock as she went down but it works in your favor. You gather the team and rip into them. There was no way for Alexia to know what you said but if the team’s reaction was anything to go by it just might have been your most motivating speech yet.

The clock was ticking and it was something you were fell aware of. You knew going onto the pitch that you wouldn't be playing your best so you used your time and energy wisely. You only made a run when you knew it could pay off and a couple of minutes in you saw the first opening. Caro and Aitana were linked up on the right and you shouted for Ewa to keep near you and in line with you. There was no way in hell that you would going to even come close to being offisde given the latest decision made by officals.

"CARO!!" you scream for the ball as you run with her further and further into the final third. She plays a ball perfectly into the box and the newly wet grass gave you the extra inches you needed to get your foot on the ball and into the back of the net.

"Get the ball" Salma does as you say and the team runs back to their half. The game was tied.

Alexia couldn't beleive what she was watching. Your presence has turned the game on it's head. You had done was she failed to do in 80 minutes.

Regular time had come and gone. There were mere minutes left in the game. Barca were hunting but Real Madrid were fighting. Both teams had chances but neither could score. You were out of your feet, your lungs on fire but the desire to win pushed you. You focused on the quality of your passes instead of making the runs.

With seconds left you send a ball into the box from near the half way line. It was a last ditch effort but it's all you had in you. The ball was flying through the air almost as if in slow motion. You knew who the target was and she was in the perfect position. Ingrid got her head to the ball with the perfect connection only for it to hit the crossbar and go over for a goal kick.

The whistle was blown and the game ended 2-2. The team might not have lost but a draw was like a win to your opponents and that pissed you off.

The energy at Montuic was stale with most of the fans already having left. That could have been due to the weather but it could also have to do with the team's performance.

Pere gave a speech during the huddle yet no one was listening. They all knew today wasn't good enough but still they took the time to do a lap of the pitch. Normally this is to thank the fans and today's was for that and an apology. Alexia walked next to you but she wouldn't look you in the eye. She did that when she was mad or upset, right now it was a mixture of the two. No words were exchanged as you wrapped your arm around her shoulders.

"You're not well" your girlfriend's words were barely above a whisper.

"I was needed on that pitch"

Again, silence fell on you two until she saw Pere near the tunnel.

"He shouldn't have played you" and with that she stormed into the locker room knowing full well that you didn't have the energy to chase after her.

The locker room was louder after you lost the champions league than it was now. Nobody was rushing to get changed. They sat in their kit and thought about how things went so badly.

"That shouldnt have happened" Pere began to spoke but Alexia cut him off. You knew this was coming and you also knew it would end very very badly.

"No!" the Catalonian rose to her feet "I don't care what the score was, you should never have put Y?N on. She has been ill for weeks. You were with us at the medical test, the doctor said she wasn't fit"

"Alexia, he said he advised against it"

"Alexia is right" Mapi was also on her feet walking towards Pere "He put his player at risk"

Pere looked at you. He told you this would happen and you knew it would be up to you to handle them, to handle the team.

"Both of you sit down" you didn't ask but they didn't do it "Sit down now" upon seeing the stern look on your face they did as they were told.

You stood up and looked at each player in the locker room before turning your attention to the two woman who were adament on defending you.

"Now I am going to be very very honest with you, with you all. That our there was abmismal. We pride ourselves on our ability to play at a world class level yet that our was fucking amateur hour"

"But the goal was-"

"A goal. Nobody in this world will argue with you on that one but we shouldn't have been in that position in the first place. We went down to Real Madrid not once but twice. That is not good enough. That is not us. That is not Barcelona" You take a second to catch your breathe "As for the decision to sub me on, that wasn't his, it was mine. Never have I seen us have to adapt to the way they play and I wasn't going to sit on the bench and watch it happen for a second longer. Pere didn't want me to come on but deep down he knew I had what it took to regain control of the game"

Alexia listened as you broke down the game. Play by play she realised as you pointed out mistake and mistake. To other teams it wouldn't come off as bad but you were right when you said the performance wasn't Barcelona level of football.

"I should have been on that pitch" Alexia still wasn't ok with the change.

"No you shouldn't" It was a harsh truth but it had to be said "You couldn't find a way through them and you were seconds away from getting a second yellow. You let them get under your skin and the moment that happened you were no longer of use to the team. I needed to be on the pitch without worrying about you worrying about me"

"So I got benched because I'm your girlfriend. That hasn't stopped us before" Alexia sunk into her locker. Even after your explanation, she din't agree with it.

"You got benched because things wasn't clicking with you on the pitch"

It was like a kick in a gut.

“A decision needed to be made and given how the game turned around it was the right one”

You looked at Alexia and disregarded everyone else in the room. In your mind it was just the two of you.

“I know” Alexia was disappointed in herself.

The rest of the locker room began changing whilst still thinking about what you said. Everyone was showered and changed within half an hour. By the time you game out of the shower Alexia was gone. You assumed she would take a minute then shower herself but clearly she had other plans and whatever they were you would respect them. You shoot her a quick message telling her you’ll be at home waiting for her when she’s ready. This happened quite a few times and you knew she would go to her mother’s. This was confirmed an hour later when you got a text from Eli saying Alexia was with her and Alba.

It didn’t hurt you that she went to them. Alexia was very close to her family and she was the one that helped her process her feelings or at least do so enough so that when she came to you she had some understanding of what was going on in her head.

You were sprawled out on the sofa under a blanket watching the latest series on Netflix when you heard the door open.

“Y/N” Alexia called out for you. In her mind she wasn’t sure if you would be at home and if you wanted to see her.

“In the living room”

She stood in front of you like a school kid who knew they had been naughty. Alexia carried the weight of the team on her shoulders since you were off and it had been weighing her down at times. She never let anyone see this but with you it was obvious. You knew your girlfriend better than she knew herself.

“Come here” you opened your arms and Alexia buried herself under the blanket and into the crook of your neck. A couple of seconds pass and as they do her breathing evens out. The pressure did consume her at times and when that happened she just needed some time.

“I’m sorry I played so badly that you had to go against what the doctor said” This is what bothered Alexia the most. Sure losing against Real was infuriating but the fact that you, who wasn’t full fit, felt the need to play affected her more.

“Baby, that’s not it at all” your fingers trace lines up and down her spine “Madrid were targeting you and it was working. They aren’t a team that’s worth you getting a red card. You’re better than them, Ale”

“Why couldn’t I be on the pitch with you?”

“Because as hard as you tried you wouldn’t be able to look at me as your team mate. You would look at me and see the girlfriend who you have been looking after for over a month”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. I always look at you and see my girlfriend because that’s what you are. Instead I had to watch from the bench as you ran yourself into the ground and you didn’t even do that much. You put the team before your own health and I don’t like that”

“Alexia” you wait until she looks at you “I’m ok. My chest is a little sore and the cough is still there but I’m ok. I’m no worse than when I stepped foot on that pitch”

It took you a couple of seconds but you saw it. There was something else going on in her head, something she wasn’t telling you.

“What is it? What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?” You waited and hoped alexia would stay something only she didn’t “Please tell me” you said softly.

“I failed you today. This morning when we left the house I told you we would win and I told you I would score”

She did tell you these things as you sat at the kitchen table, Alexia finishing her breakfast whilst you sipped on your coffee.

“Can I ask you a question?” Your girlfriend nods slightly “Did you give it your all on that pitch?”

Alexia thinks about it for a second. Every play she made on the pitch ran through her head like a homemade movie. Every pass of the ball, touch at her feet and shot at goal or more so lack of shots on goal.

"It wasn't my best performance" She was defeated, not just in the game today but also in mentality.

"It wasn't the team's best performance Alexia. You might be the captain but you weren't the only player on that pitch" You were aware how hypocritical you sounded but in this very moment you didn't care.

The woman laying in your arms was quiet for a couple of moments. She knew you were right but she was never going to admit that. Her stubborness wouldn't let her.

What you said next got her attention straight away.

"Besides that offside call was bullshit" you said with a smirk on your face.

"Por Dios! How was that offside? No one was anywhere close to being offside and definetley not Jana. She was miles off"

Alexia jumped to her feet and played the moment out right there and then in your living room. One minute she was her, the next Caro, Ewa and then Jana when she acts out the shot. You loved it when she talked football to you and her passion for the sport you both loved only made you love her more.

"See! Am I offside at any point?" She wasn't looking for an answer so her cutting you off before you can reply isn't a surprise "No, never, not a chance"

"No amor, none of you were"

"We'll be better next week. We'll be back to our Barcelona, I promise you" Alexia got serious all of a sudden and you knew why. She never liked to lose and whilst you weren't out for long, every game you spend in the stands she told you that she played for you. In her eyes she failed to make you proud that and that meant she failed you. What Alexia didn't understand is that even in the worse losses she could never fail you.

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas one shot #alexia putellas imagine #fcb femeni x reader #fcb femeni one shot #fcb femeni imagine #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso imagine #espwnt x reader #espwnt one shot #espwnt imagine

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