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#I love the detail of how the longer he stares at the girls the more he prods that spot as if something's stuck there that needs to come out
syncopatedid · 1 year
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The way Suguru keeps poking at his forehead just before he turned to the dark side is significant far as religious themes in jjk go, as it's where the "third eye" (associated with spiritual enlightenment and religious visions) is usually depicted to be. His "third eye" was awakened and he was finally able to see the truth and light at the end of his tunnel, a way out of his endless struggle. And having attained that enlightenment, leaves mankind to burn while he seeks to get closer to god by becoming one himself.
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inkdrinkerworld · 5 months
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Post!prision!Reid seeing his daughter for the first time after he gets out 🥹 he gets so emotional because he can finally hold his baby again!
OMG OMG OMG!!!! can you imagine how teary he'd be!! post!prison dad!spencer x mom!reader, I hope you enjoy <3
You wish you could’ve been with the team at the prison, see him come out there in person, but you’re still on bedrest with your baby girl. Georgia is only a couple weeks old, but she’s so much Spencer’s twin- the same unruly curls, the same nose and the same want of you. 
You’d written all about her in your letters to Spencer, describing every feature he’s going to see today in so much detail you were sure he would see her clearly in his mind. 
“Honey?” He doesn’t shout lest he wake his daughter as he walks in, his fingers twitching with the need to see both of you. 
“I’m on the sofa baby,” it’s almost as if he was never gone. You lean over the sofa to see him pass through the kitchen, his hands holding a small bag. “I’m sorry I can’t stand to kiss you, Spence.” 
He tuts, leaning down over you, “Nonsense, how’re you feeling?” His eyes flit over to the cot beside you, roving over your daughter before settling back on you. 
“Like I missed you longer than you’ve been gone.” You’re waterlogged immediately and Spencer rounds the sofa to pull you into him. 
“I missed you too,” his lips press into your temple, “God I missed you both so much.” Tears wet your hairline but you can’t seem to care, Spencer’s home and he’s able to see your baby girl together. What more could you want?
“I brought you some snacks, I figured you hadn’t been able to get any of your cravings.” He says gently, opening a bag to show you all the chocolate malt balls, the yoghurt raisins and the nuts you’d just run out of. “I got something for Georgia too.” 
“Spence,” you gasp when you see the orange stuffed octopus that he pulls out, it’s just as big as Georgia is now. He wipes the tears that fall on your cheeks, kissing your nose before opening the tub of nuts for you. “Seventh smartest animal in the world.” you recall softly. 
“Can I hold her?” He asks finally and you nod, watching him stand and hover over the bassinet. 
“Just scoop her up Spence, she’s going to be so happy you’re home.” 
Spencer doesn’t say a word, practically holding his breath as he does as you say- scooping Georgia up in record time and holding her close to his chest. There’s a moment right after she wriggles a bit when she settles and Spencer feels an ungodly wave of emotion crash into him.
Of course, he’d read that men only feel like fathers the moment they hold their babies, and everyone had told him (everyone being Derek and JJ) that you can’t control the way your heart kind of cracks open to make room for this new love, but he still hadn’t expected it to be so immediate and visceral. 
“Hi Georgia,” he whispers, his tears rolling down the bridge of his nose as he strokes her cheek. “Hi sweet girl.” You’re enamoured already, looking at Spencer holding your daughter like she’s made of fine China. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you were born, baby. But I promise I’m not missing anything else where you’re concerned.” 
Tears pool in your eyes as your daughter wakes up, no crying or wailing, just small coos and gurgles as she looks at Spencer. 
“It’s your daddy, Georgia.” You murmur, sniffling and wiping your eyes as Spencer hiccups as she reaches for his face, her little fist bumping into his jaw.
Her almond eyes stare up at him, blinking all slow as she takes him in. Then she smiles, as if she's put a face to the man who spoke to her every night, telling her all the facts he'd read and learnt about babies, animals and whatever soothing topic he could find to tell her while she lived in your belly.
“Your mom lied to me, you look just like her.” You scoff, rolling your eyes as Spencer gives you a little glare. “Those eyes are all her, Peach. Maybe you won’t get your daddy’s brain either- it’s no fun being smart and getting beat up.” You throw a cashew at Spencer then, making him chuckle and come sit beside you. 
“I’m so happy you’re home.” You whisper, stroking Georgia’s cheek as you press yours into Spencer’s bicep. 
“I’m happy to be back, angel.” his eyes remain transfixed to Georgia all day, holding her and touching her foot when he can’t because you have to feed her. Spencer thinks to himself that he’d live through prison a thousand times over if every time he gets out, he can come back to this moment, to the peace and serenity in your home with you and your little girl and the life you’d made together colouring every wall of the house.
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ellecdc · 6 months
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Part two of feisty slytherin reader where it’s just the boys being like kinda in love with reader and everything you can pick how reader responds
this ended up taking me way longer to complete than I thought it would! it also ended up way longer than usual. here's the lead up to our infamous poly!marauders x feisty!slytherin reader!!! 🫶
poly!marauders x feisty, fem slytherin!reader
p1 // p2 // p3
CW: head injury - not graphic or detailed but mentions blood.
“Okay Moony, if you’re going to help us win over Y/N, you should know she does not like dramatic public displays of appreciation.” James said sagely as he walked into their shared dorm room.
Remus spared Sirius a confused look from his seat in the chair, but from the way James was currently rubbing his arm Sirius had a pretty good idea of what just took place.
“Yeah, erm, I don’t think you have to worry about that with me, bubs. Thanks for the heads up though.” Remus added bemusedly.
“Let me guess.” Sirius taunted, rolling over onto his stomach so that he faced James. “The charmed roses following her around the halls wasn’t a hit?”
“No, but she did...” He sulked, pulling his uniform shirt off to expose a small albeit quite red welt on his upper arm.
“Awe, poor Jamie. Come here bubs.” Remus cooed at him, opening his arms to invite the boy into his lap. 
James obliged all too willingly and snuggled up to the werewolf like he was a small toddler and not a giant beefy man-baby. 
“Don’t mollify him when he’s out here botching our grand plans to woo the girl of our dreams.” Sirius said, causing Remus to roll his eyes and James to scoff indignantly.
“Well at least I’m working on it! What are you doing to woo her?” James retaliated.
Sirius offered him a wolfish grin. “Oh, I’ve got a little trick up my sleeve.”
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You had to get out of the castle. You could still feel everyone’s eyes on you, ogling you like you were some kind of freakshow. 
You don’t know what kind of game those Gryffindor’s were trying to play, but you were not about to be the butt of whatever sodding joke this was.
Roses, really? Charmed to follow you around the castle as Potter smirked from the sidelines. Did he have any idea how humiliating that was?
       So, yeah. You walloped him. In the arm. With your fist. Hard. But what else were you supposed to do!? You’d confronted him and demanded that he end the charm and all he said was ‘you look so cute when your nose scrunches up like that’.
He and Black have always been a bother – seemingly having taken some kind of interest in you for whatever reason. Lupin had always been more reasonable; one would think that he’d have evened those two out during their relationship, but apparently that was an impossible task. You supposed it was because he was all but one man.
But lately, even he was starting to stare at you a little too long, smile a little too softly, find too many excuses to be in your vicinity. It was infuriating.
So, you were outside.
It was nice outside. 
Well, it was nice enough outside. 
You packed yourself some snacks in your book bag, two blankets and an extra jumper to go sit by the Black Lake. You figured you should be able to enjoy some peace and quiet out here on your own.
You unfolded one of the blankets to lay onto the ground before sitting on it and then laid the second blanket over your lap. You could hear other students on the grounds in the distance and the soothing sound of the water lapping gently against the shore. 
As luck would have it, a certain dog with long-black hair would set out to disrupt that.
“What are you doing here?” You asked the dog as it approached you calmly. You wondered for a moment if you should be scared before it stopped at the edge of your blanket to sit and tilt its head at you, his tongue falling out of his mouth haphazardly. 
He didn’t look too scary, ignoring his size.
You craned your neck to look around, checking if perhaps he was here with someone, but it appeared that you were, in fact, alone on this side of the lake.
You felt something cold and wet nudge your pinkie, and you turned to see that the dog had laid down beside you with his head between his paws, nose next to your hand.
“If I pet you, are you going to bite me?” You asked him. He answered by nudging your hand again and offering it a little lick.
“You better not have fleas.” You muttered as you scratched behind the dog’s ears. You would have sworn he had furrowed his eyebrows at your comment if dogs could do such a thing. You noticed then that the dog had startling silver-blue eyes. 
“Where are your people?” You asked, glad no one was around to see you conversing with a dog. He answered you by rolling over for belly rubs.
You scoffed out a laugh but acquiesced. “Fine, you can stay. But I came out here for peace and quiet, ‘kay?”
The dog seemed fine with that plan and let you read through two chapters of your book, only interrupting every paragraph or so for more pets. Eventually however, it grew too cold, and you decided to pack up.
Confirming your suspicions, the dog began to follow you towards the castle. You pretended like you hadn’t noticed or perhaps just didn’t care until you were near the greenhouses.
“For future reference, Black,” you said, turning to the dog who seemed to pause mid-step as you considered him. “I really am more of a cat person.” You smirked, turning to walk back to the castle alone.
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“Here, let me get that for you.” James said, opening the door for you rather chivalrously in Sirius’ opinion.
“I’m not a delicate flower, Potter, I can open a door.” You muttered angrily, storming past him into the classroom.
James deflated a little as he followed you in, but perked up when Remus placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
“I thought that was very sweet of you, Jamie.” He placated.
James gave him a half smile in response. “Thanks Moons.”
“I mean, what are we supposed to do? What bird doesn’t like dogs!?” Sirius grumbled, opting to ignore James’ whining. 
“Don’t call her a bird, Sirius.” Remus chided.
“Probably didn’t help you’re a big ol’ mangy mutt.” James muttered petulantly.
“Oi!” Sirius called. “That’s not what you say when Padfoot snuggles you to sleep.” 
James had the good graces to turn a little red at that.
Their conversation was interrupted (quite rudely if you asked Sirius) by Professor McGonagall as she began the instructions for today’s Transfiguration lesson: turning buttons into butterflies. 
Sirius stole a concerned glance towards James to see Remus doing the same; they were horrified to see a mischievous look adorning their boyfriend’s face.
“Prongs...” Sirius warned, whilst Remus whispered a “remember what we talked about.”
But they both knew it was too late; there was no stopping him once James set his mind to something. 
Sirius is quite sure it was the fourth butterfly that did you in; you seemed to consider the first a fluke, the second was annoying, the third made you suspicious, but by the fourth you’d had enough.
With little to no warning you turned and lobbed a large hard-covered tome at the group.
“I don’t know which of you tossers are behind this, but it reeks of Potter. So help me gods I will gut you and string you up to the rafters from your intestines if you don’t leave me alone!” You screeched. 
“But how else will you know I’m crazy about you?” James pouted, causing you to groan exasperatedly.
“If you’re looking for some cutesy princess who will swoon at your sodding roses and butterflies, then you’ve got the wrong witch.” You spat.
Sirius smirked. “Oh, we have exactly the right witch.”
“I swear to Circe if you don’t leave me alone, I’ll sic Barty on you.” You threatened.
Sirius and James both scoffed whilst Remus smirked. 
“Please dollface, you insult me. I’m not afraid of Junior.” Sirius taunted.
You narrowed your eyes at him menacingly before realization dawned on you. “Fine.” You said simply, giving Sirius a distinct uneasy feeling. “Perhaps I’ll tell Regulus.”
Sirius slammed his fist on the table and leaned forward. “You wouldn’t.” He seethed.
You smirked deviously. “Just try me, Black.” You sneered in response. 
Did...did Sirius have a degradation kink?
Sirius was ashamed to admit that he had to take a very cold shower after that.
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You had been sitting in the library trying to work on your Potions essay. You had felt fairly safe here seeing as the Gryffindor’s (at least the most problematic ones) had been sanctioned from using the library during quiet study hours on account of their typical foolishness.
Except one.
“Mind if I sit here?” Lupin’s lilting voice sounded from your right side before he sat down without waiting for your response. 
“Why bother asking if you were just going to sit anyways?” You grumbled. 
“Well, it was the polite thing to do.” He said, turning to face you. You held his gaze (his gaze, your glare) until he finally sighed. “I’ll leave if you want me to.”
You considered him for a moment. You couldn’t deny he was the least buffoonish out of the so-called Marauders though you’re not sure that amounted to much.
But he was quieter, kinder, softer around the edges. And he had been far more polite to you than his boyfriends.
“Are you going to flirt with me?”
One of Remus’ eyebrows (the one with the scar running through it, you noticed) raised expectantly as he considered you.
“Let me rephrase that.” You barked quickly, realizing your mistake perhaps a touch too late. “You may sit here, but if you flirt with me, I will stab you with my quill.” You punctuated your threat by blotting his hand which rested on the table with ink from the tip of your quill.
Remus smiled at the sight before returning his amber coloured gaze to yours. “Fair enough. I promise to try to restrain myself, but perhaps you ought to hold onto this hand for me just in case I slip up.” And he – the absolute sodding bastard – slid his left hand comfortably into your right.
You’d never seen someone make a move so assertively and smoothly before. There was nothing to say that any of this even affected Remus as he immediately turned his attention to his book. Was it hot in here? Your hand felt sweaty. Your throat felt tight. Your mouth was dry. Why didn’t you think to bring a bottle of water?!
“Erm,” you started, having to pause to clear your throat. “Just how am I supposed to get my work done with your hand in mine, Lupin?”
You had tried to sound threatening, but based off Remus’ smirk, you’d only managed to goad him further.
“You’re left-handed. Figure it out.” 
These boys were going to be the death of you if you didn’t end up killing them first.
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“You held her hand!?” James screeched in their dorm room that night whilst Remus smirked to himself. Sirius would make fun of James for his dramatics if he wasn’t just a pissed off about this.
“I’ve been working at this the longest out of either of you, and she lets you hold her hand?” He continued.
“She doesn’t like dogs,” Sirius grumbled, gesturing to himself, “she doesn’t like James. But the werewolf? Really. No offence Moons because I absolutely get the appeal.”
James snapped his fingers as he had a eureka moment. “I’ve got it! Remus; bite me!”
“James!” Remus scolded. 
“It’s not fair.” James muttered as he fell onto his bed in defeat. “I’d be so good to her.”
Any ire from Sirius and Remus drained at that as they both moved to join their boyfriend on his bed.
“We know, bubs.” Remus conceded. 
“We just...have to give her time. I’m sure she’ll come around, yeah? I mean, with Remus’ smooth moves, my undeniable charm, and your muscles? We’re unstoppable.” Sirius added, eliciting a smile from Remus and a gentle chuckle from James, though his usual light was diminished.
“We’ve just got to be patient, Jamie.” Remus concluded, causing James to groan.
“Patience.” He spat spitefully.
“A 'James ADHD Potter' special.” Sirius winked before kissing any further protests away from James’ lips.
“We’ve got Moony on our team now, bubs. We’re unstoppable.” He whispered, truly believing what he was saying.
If anyone could break through your hard candy-coating shell to reach the chocolate inside, it was certainly Remus Lupin.
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You’d had the lovely idea of sitting outside on one of the few sunny days that Scotland got to see this time of year. Unfortunately, it seemed that everyone else had the same idea too.
A few Hufflepuffs were playing with a charmed muggle football, kicking it back and forth between the two of them and chasing after it when it opted to fuck off on its own. You didn’t understand the objective of the game, nor did you care to.
Remus and Peter Pettigrew sat on a bench not too far off playing a game of Wizarding Chess that, from where you were sitting, looked like Remus was winning.
You got so caught up in watching Lupin’s game with Pettigrew - in the way that the tendons in his wrist and hands flexed as he moved pieces across the board, and the way that his honey blonde curls fell in front of his eyes causing him to have to blow air upwards so he could see the board - that you noticed something flying at you far too late. 
“Look out!” One of the dumb Hufflepuff’s shouted far too late as their charmed football soared into the side of your head, knocking you clean over where your head cracked painfully against a root of the tree you were sitting under.
You scrunched your eyes tight and tried to will your heart to start beating again and your lungs to cooperate, every part of your body seeming to have tensed out of instinct to protect itself.
“L/N! L/N! Come on, dove, open your eyes.” You heard a voice above you.
Why was the voice so worried? How long were your eyes closed? A gentle hand grabbed your chin and wiggled your head back and forth, causing you to hiss in pain.
“Sod...off.” You gritted through your teeth.
The voice chuckled and wiggled your chin once more. “There she is. Open your eyes for me.”
You hated being told what to do but decided to comply anyways.
You probably should have kept your eyes close because the sight made you feel dizzy for a completely different reason.
Hovering above your frame was Remus Lupin; his knees on the ground beside your elbow, one hand gripping your chin and the other gently moving hair away from your face and head.
“Atta girl.” He said with a smile.
“Get away from me.” You grumbled as you moved to sit up. Though Lupin hissed in protest, he helped you sit up nonetheless. 
“Is...is she okay?” a timid voice spoke from somewhere behind Lupin’s shoulder causing his expression to darken considerably.
“You stupid wankers are so dead.” You spat as loudly as you could manage, though in your current state – that wasn’t very loud at all.
Your message was received loud and clear, however, as the two Hufflepuffs took off in fear.
“My sentiments exactly.” Lupin muttered as he turned back to you, jaw still tense.
You snorted indelicately as you brought a hand to your head. “Please, don’t tell me you actually care about me, Lupin.”
You hissed in pain as your hand came in contact with something warm and wet and slightly sticky. You pulled your hand back in front of you to inspect, only for Lupin to grab your hand rather harshly and wipe the blood away with a handkerchief.
“Is it so impossible to believe that we could actually care for you?” He muttered quietly, eyes focused on your hand, pointedly avoiding eye contact with you. You watched as his curls bounced with each wipe of his hand against yours. You thought of his gentle hands brushing hair away from your wound moments before. You thought of him begging you to open your eyes. You thought of him being the first one at your side when you were hurt.
And you thought about Black finding ways to be with you even when you staunchly refused his company. You thought of him taking time out of his day to tell you how ‘smoking hot’ you looked that day, even though he said it every day before that, too.
And you thought about Potter who always held the door for you, saved you a seat even though you never accepted it, showered you in affection even though it was public and quite embarrassing. And you thought of the way he always had a smile to give you, even when you gave him no reason to smile at all. 
It wasn’t hard to imagine the three of them caring for anyone, quite frankly. Caring seemed to come second nature to those boys.
“No.” You admitted quietly. “It’s not impossible to believe that you could actually care. It’s just impossible to imagine why.”
He stopped rubbing at your hand and met your eye, seemingly contemplating what to say.
“Let’s get you to Madam Pomfrey.” He opted for. “Pete, let the boys know where I’ve gone when they’re finished with practice?” Lupin called over his shoulder.
“I can walk myself, Lupin.” You grumbled as he helped you up by your elbow.
“Yeah, yeah.” He grumbled back. “You’re not a delicate flower, we know.”
The two of you more or less muttered back and forth to each other the entire way to the infirmary, Lupin supporting more of your weight than he likely needed too but you didn’t feel the need (nor desire) to complain.
Madam Pomfrey was in the middle of looking after a first year Potions class who accidently set off an explosion of incorrectly brewed Cure for Boils which ultimately left each student (and Professor Slughorn) covered head to toe in painful boils.
“Mr. Lupin, if you could clean the wound for me. And Miss. L/N, drink the pain potion. Do not leave until I’ve had a chance to do a proper examination, okay?” She ordered as you positioned yourself more comfortably on the bed after she determined you weren’t about to die (or currently crying, as most of the first years were). 
You took the pain potion dutifully and placed it back on the table beside your bed before you startled at the sudden cold wet cloth on your head.
“You are not seriously doing this right now, are you?” You spat.
Remus’ eyebrows drew together as his hands continued on in their task. “You heard the matron; I’m supposed to clean it.”
“I can clean it myself, Lupin; I’ll conjure a mirror.” You argued, causing the scarred boy to scoff.
“I do what I’m told L/N, and quite frankly, the matron scares me more than you do.”
“I must be doing something wrong then.” You sighed, thinking you hadn’t said that loud enough to be heard, but a startled laugh escaped Lupin’s lips. 
“Why do you act so volatile?” He asked amusedly.
“It’s not an act.”
“I call bullshit.”
“Well, you call wrong, then, Lupin. I’m an arse and I find everyone exhausting. Deal with it.” You snarked sharply.
Lupin breathed a laugh through his nose. “Maybe we can find out what the hell your problem is over dinner sometime, then.”
Rotten bastard and his smooth talk...
“WHERE IS SHE!?” a voice echoed through the corridor just outside the entrance to the infirmary. Madame Pomfrey needn’t even look up from the boil she was currently draining of puss to know who she was about to scold.
“Mr. Potter, I will have you banned from this infirmary so fast if you raise your voice above so much as a whisper, do not try me. That goes for you too, Mr. Black.” She barked; eyes still focused on the first year’s arm in front of her.
Sure enough, a mop of curly hair, impossibly more wild than usual due to the flight on his broom, poked around the privacy curtains a second before it was joined by a fuming looking Sirius Black.
Potter’s eyes flew to where Remus’ hands were positioned on your head and your stomach lurched at what looked like tears pooling in Potter’s eyes.
“Potter...please, erm, please don’t cry?” You asked awkwardly, leaning away from Remus’ touch as you suddenly became very uncomfortable with this amount of attention.
“She’s alright, Jamie.” Remus sighed, pulling you back over to him gently by the shoulder and continuing his prodding at your wound.
“Who did it?” Sirius spat, arms crossed defensively across his chest and jaw tight as he stared hard at the wound on your head. You were horrified to admit to yourself that he was hot. You’d never really seen it before, how all the girls in your year (and other years) fawned over the long-haired boy.
But he was currently standing in front of you still adorned in his quidditch gear, hair pulled back into a low bun - though he had many fly-aways on account of his recent time in the air - his cheeks still dusted pink from the assertion, and he was currently fuming on your behalf.
Yeah...he was hot. 
“Easy.” Remus warned.
“Answer me!” Sirius spat back.
“Pads. I mean it, leave it.” Remus said with finality.
Your eyes darted nervously between the two boys currently staring each other down, but Potter’s eyes were still steadfast on you.
“Let me, Rem.” He finally said gently – the most gently you’d ever heard from the rambunctious boy as he gently moved Remus aside and took over.
“I’m okay, you know.” You offered, not liking how worked up these boys were currently over you.
“I know.” He agreed. “I just hate to see you hurt.”
“Why?”
“Why?”
“Yeah, why.” You pressed. James looked like you just asked him to calculate the distance between the galaxy of Andromeda and our solar system using the measurement of broomsticks.  
“I... I don’t want to see you hurt?”
“You want to see Snape hurt.” You countered, causing James’ face to harden.
“Snape’s a tosser.” He muttered darkly.
“I’m not any nicer than Snape.”
“See, Y/N. You’re so smart and lovely and perfect, but you are way off on that front.” James said through a laugh. “Snape is prejudiced, vindictive, and a racist blood supremist. You’re just combative.” He explained, punctuating the word combative with a gentle boop of your nose. 
You wanted to break his finger.
But that would be combative, and you would rather die than prove Potter right, so you opted to roll your eyes instead. 
“Did they even hang around to see if she fucking survived or did they just take off to avoid detention?” Sirius spat at Remus, not looking any calmer than he did when he arrived.
“They stayed.” You answered tiredly. “They took off afterwards, and not to avoid detention, but to avoid me.”
“And me.” Remus muttered quietly, looking dangerously close to going back out there to find them himself. 
“Did you threaten them?” Sirius asked severely, though you weren’t sure who exactly he had asked.
“Yes.” You and Lupin both answered exasperatedly. 
Sirius looked between the two of you before letting out a sigh. “Fine, but if I run into them, I’m hexing them into oblivion.”
“Not if I get to them first.” You growled.
Sirius’ face finally softened as he sat on the end of your bed and cautiously touched your ankle under the blankets.
“You sure you’re okay, Y/N?”
And you aren’t sure what did it. 
You weren’t sure if it was the softness you saw in Sirius that you were sure you could have never even imagined possible from a person, let alone someone related to the infamous Black family. Or if it was the eyebrows of Remus Lupin that were furrowed in concern as he dutifully watched his boyfriend finish plastering a bandage to your head, or if it was the unbelievable softness of James Potter’s touch – in complete contrast to his fast, rough, bouncing personality that you were usually subjected to.
But dammit, you felt a tear slip down your cheek.
You wiped it away quickly and nodded your head in yes.
You braced yourself for the teasing, the cooing, the dramatic displays of affection. But Sirius quickly stood and disappeared behind the curtains, James began pouring you a glass of water, and Remus reached into his bag for something.
Remus returned to you first, breaking off a square of chocolate for you. “It’ll help.”
You were too embarrassed to argue and took it, popping it into your mouth dutifully. 
“Here.” Sirius said as he appeared back at your bedside, handing you a vial. 
“What is it?” You asked, your voice taut with emotion.
Sirius’ eyes softened again as he offered you a sad smile. “Calming draught. You can’t have any more pain potion, but this might make you feel better.”
“And if not, maybe you can convince Moony to share more of his chocolate.” James commented with a soft smile.
You grimaced at the taste of the potion and chased it with the water James had poured for you.
“Thank you.” You admitted quietly, shame colouring your tone as you looked to your lap.
“None of that.” Remus said as he handed you another piece of chocolate.
You took it skeptically. “Why do they call you Moony?”
No one said anything for a moment, but you could tell that neither James nor Sirius were moving a muscle as they watched Remus who in turn watched you.
“Because of my lycanthropy.” He said plainly.
You looked at the various scars before you started to laugh. Sirius’ face drained of all colour while James visibly tensed.
“Of course you are. Remus Lupin. Named after a man raised by wolves and the lupus, or wolf constellation. Oh gods, it was predestined, clearly.”
“Are...are you laughing at me right now?” Remus asked incredulously.
“It’s a little funny...no?” You asked back.
He looked as if he were torn between laughing and crying. “I pour my heart out to you – my deepest darkest secret, and you laugh at me?” He asked again, some amusement colouring his features.
“I told you, I’m an arse.” You said with a shrug of your shoulders.
“Does it bother you?” Sirius asked cautiously from the end of your bed, face appearing impassive for all intents and purposes. 
“I don’t see why it should, it’s none of my business.”
“It could be.” Remus input.
“You don’t want me. I’m no good, Lupin.” You stressed, looking back down at your hands.
“Neither am I.” Sirius agreed.
“Me neither.” Remus added.
“I’m n-” James started.
“So what if the only one of us worthy of love and affection here is James?” Sirius said, cutting James off. “It’s not going to stop me from cherishing what I can get - deserved or not.”
You groaned and threw your head back onto the pillow, cringing at the effect the fast movement had on you and the pain that the movement elicited in your neck.
“Okay, what about this.” James conciliated. “You don’t have to agree to be with us, just give us a chance? The time of day? One Hogsmeade trip to let us fawn over you.”
You looked up at his deep brown eyes that felt so warm you wanted to make a home in them. Sirius, in all his bravado, looked pained as he waited for an answer, and Remus smiled encouragingly at you.
“Fine!” You acquiesced with a groan. “One Hogsmeade trip.”
Much to your chagrin, though not really at all, it ended up being way more than just one Hogsmeade trip.
Thank you to @unstablereader who gave us the library handholding prompt 🫶
2K notes · View notes
ellastone-olsen · 8 months
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Make her happy-Wanda Maximoff
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★Pairing: StepMom! Wanda x f!reader
Summary: one day your father brings home a new woman, and then that woman brings you home. drunk. and you're in love with her.
★Warning: NSFW 18+, stepcest, age gap (all legal), mommy kink, praise kink, masturbation, smoking, alcohol, forbidden relationship, mentions of violence, little fluff at the end off course
★Word count: 3k
★AN: there are a few set expressions that are in my native language, but I don’t know how it sounds in English, so I translated it verbatim
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There was a crowd of people around. A lot of young people like you, who came here with the same goals: to drink, have fun, maybe find someone for the night, as is usually the case. You never needed a lot of alcohol to start feeling drunk, and after a bottle of beer you were already in high spirits and holding the second one in your hands. Your friends went into pairs and danced together, you looked around: some were kissing as if they were ready to eat each other, some were simply jumping in the music like you, some had already begun to go to separate rooms or to their homes for more private relationships . As always, the student party smelled of alcohol and debauchery. A girl was dancing across from you; you were clearly having fun, even if you didn’t know each other’s names.
You've always had a taste for older women, so it wasn't a surprise when you realized you liked your stepmom. Your parents divorced when you were 11 and immediately after that your mother left for oblivion in another city. At first, out of childish naivety, you tried to call her or write, but as you got older, you realized that your life was no longer her concern. When this realization came to you, there was an unpleasant pang somewhere in your heart; for the first time you realized that there was no such person who didn’t care about you. Even your father, with whom you stayed to live in your hometown, seemed in no hurry to provide you with parental support and care, you just saw each other at home, as if you were neighbors, but were not close. And then Wanda appeared.
Your father chose not to tell the details of their acquaintance and at first, of course, did not bring her to your house. You just knew that somewhere out there there was another woman named Wanda, who, according to your father, was a real angel and you would definitely make friends with her. Of course, you were overcome by skepticism about this. He said this about Jessica and about Emma and about... and you no longer remembered the names of all his ex-women with whom he tried to start an affair after your mother left. Generally speaking, you didn't expect anything. But when their relationship (as your father thought) reached a new level, Wanda showed up at your house. You were a little over 19 at that time and you were studying at college not far from home, God knows why, but you didn’t want to go somewhere else to a life full of uncertainty and doubt. Of course, the factor that living with your father was easier financially and domestically also played a role; you knew that your small salary as a salesperson and an even more meager stipend would not be enough for the same comfortable life as you had now.
As you walked out of your room to the sound of the door opening and two people talking, Wanda greeted you with the most beautiful smile you had ever seen. You just stood there in your pajamas and stupid bunny slippers and stared unblinkingly at the woman with the big green eyes. The thought “what someone like Wanda saw in your father” even flashed through your head, even if it was wrong to think so. From that day on, the woman became a frequent guest in your home, and gradually in your thoughts.
One day, walking past a room that belonged to your father, who was not at home at that moment, you looked into a small gap from the door that was not completely closed and stood in place, as if stuck to the floor. Wanda stood with her back to the door and pulled the straps of a lacy black frameless bra over her shoulders. In the mirror that was a little to the side, you saw the reflection of her full breasts, the barely visible outlines of her nipples and her soft, toned stomach. You knew that you shouldn’t do this, at least for reasons of personal space, and at most for moral reasons, but you couldn’t help yourself, this sight fascinated you so much. Your mouth watered and your breath caught in your throat as you watched the woman who was your stepmom. When Wanda started to turn around to take a red knitted sweater from the bed, you jumped away from the door as if struck by an electric shock and quickly went to the kitchen, turning on the kettle and carefully pretending to choose between several types of coffee. A minute later, the older woman joined you, making her presence known with her hands sliding softly over your waist. Of course, your trembling at this action did not escape her attention.
In the end, Wanda finally settled in your house and with each passing month her presence drove you more and more crazy. It seemed like she deliberately didn’t close the door all the way when she went to change clothes or take a shower, putting on a little show for you. Her touches, which were unusual for you, gave you goosebumps, but due to the lack of warm relationships in the family, you thought that all “parents” do this: they hug you from behind and leave soft kisses at the base of your neck. One small incident became the point of no return for you personally.
You have never been a morning person, if in the morning and during the day all you dreamed of was a sound sleep, invariably with the onset of night a small hyperactive motor would start up inside, but perhaps your insomnia was also to blame. The clock showed 2:34 when your eyes scanned the Tik Tok feed and you giggled at stupid videos with animals, before having managed to take turns drawing, then reading, and so on in a circle. The apartment was quiet, only the sound of the clock ticking away the seconds, disturbing the peace of the heated spring air. You took off your massive headphones and pressed the off button when you heard some strange sounds somewhere behind the wall in the back where your father's room was and... oh. You held your breath and listened more closely, but there was no need because Wanda didn’t seem to be trying very hard to control herself. Every second, the woman’s screams of pleasure were muffled to your ears and an insistent pulsation settled between your thighs. With every sound coming from her mouth, a hot wave appears in the bottom of your stomach and the desire to relieve it was driving you crazy. Then for the first time you did THIS with thoughts about your stepmom.
The hand pulled the pajama pants down your legs along with ruined panties. When you pushed two fingers inside, your pussy was already wet and ready for invasion. You focused your mind on the image of the woman behind the wall and your own moans were drowned in the pillow. You imagined how her hips were rolling now, how her breasts were bouncing, her soft tender skin, in your mind there was only Wanda.
You look in prostration at the boiling kettle when a familiar hand strokes your lower back. "Good morning, my dear." You don't look at her, cheeks turning red from the events of this night. "Good morning." You drink your coffee in silence, you avoid her gaze. The click of a lighter breaks the ringing emptiness between you. A woman lights a cigarette and the smell of tobacco reaches you; a hand with a red manicure hands you a pack. It’s not that you hid your bad habits, but you didn’t allow yourself to do it in front of your father. A sigh leaves your lips and you take one, Wanda strikes the lighter and brings the fire to the tip of the cigarette between your lips. Nicotine hits your head and everyone is dizzy from harmful pleasure. "How did you sleep?" She asks as if she's mocking you. Only now did you notice that she was wearing a light night dress, which did not hide her breasts too much. You try your best not to look there, your gaze runs from her face to her chest several times and she sees it perfectly. “Like dead.”
The party was in full swing, the second bottle of beer was finished and thrown into the trash. It was your friend's friend's house or something like that. You stood in the kitchen and poured yourself some water, hoping that there would be lemon in the refrigerator. Someone’s arms wrapped around your waist from behind and you were scared because the body pressed against your back was clearly taller and larger than you. “Baby, do you want to go upstairs?” You immediately disentangled yourself from the unwanted hug and looked at the guy you saw a couple of times in college, but didn’t even know his name or what year he was in. “Who are you anyway?!” He made another attempt to come closer, but you had already jumped away towards the living room with a crowd of people. “Come on, don’t pretend, that’s how you look at me in college.” You were confused. “What are you talking about? I don't even know who the hell you are." You turned and started to leave, but his strong hand grabbed you, holding you in place. “No, I didn’t finish.” His grip was strong and you had already imagined all the worst possible scenarios, but like a blessing from above, your friend appeared. “Dude, haven’t you mixed up anything? Do you want us to go out now and I’ll put your brains back in place a couple of times?” You were immediately free. The guy raised his hands in surrender. “Okay okay, take it easy man.” He retreated as quickly as he appeared. You were shaking a little from the situation and you immediately took out your phone, finding Wanda’s contact.
“Y/N how are you? I don’t know who called him here, do you want to go outside?” You shook your head in reluctance. “Everything is okay, I’m drunk and I’ll probably go home. Wanda will pick me up." Your father was not in the city; in truth, he began to go on business trips too often, which aroused certain suspicions. Wanda saw this too and began to understand where everything was going. The answer came immediately, as if she had been waiting for this message. “I’ll be there in 20 minutes.” Her text message said.
After saying goodbye to your friends in the driveway, you got into Wanda's red Volvo, where the woman interrogate you about what had happened. “What an asshole.” You were already at home in the kitchen and the woman was swearing under her breath while she made you both hot tea. She changed into her home clothes, back into one of her light night dresses. Your alcohol-fogged brain was screaming to touch her. You watched her body move under the thin silk fabric and legs themselves carried you in the right direction. Wanda was stirring sugar in her tea when your arms grabbed hers and you pressed your body against her back, burying your face in her hair, inhaling the aroma of shampoo. The woman mentally smiled at your gesture of tenderness. "What is a cute girl?" She reached out her hand and slide it in your disheveled hair, slightly pulling back the tufts of hair. The little whine escaped you and you pressed yourself closer to her, as if you were trying to become one with her. “You smell like beer and cigarettes Y/N.” Well, it was a statement of fact, so it’s not offensive. You nuzzled her neck and Wanda turned in your arms. Now was, if not ideal, then a great moment to lay all the cards on the table. “How dare this bastard touch what’s mine.” She whispered it on your lips and your heart sank. “Wanda...you...” The words died between your lips as the older woman pulled you into a kiss. Out of shock, you didn’t immediately answer her, but quickly relaxed and attacked her lips, pressing the woman into the kitchen counter.
“Wanda...I...” You tried to convey your thoughts about your feelings for her between kisses. “Hush, pretty girl...I know everything.” You stopped and looked at her with wide eyes. The older woman laughed and took your face in her hands. “Did you really think that I wouldn’t notice anything? Oh what a sweet little thing." Everything seemed too good a dream, the woman was about to take you to her room, but you stood on the threshold, refusing to go there. “No, come to me.” You clearly didn't like the idea of ​​doing this with Wanda in the bed where she slept with your father. Then you remembered who she is to you and how you both act towards him. “Wait, but my father...You are his wife.” “And it only started to bother you now? Oh don't worry about it baby, he's been cheating on me for a long time and I want to file for divorce. Just don’t tell him.” She winked and closed your bedroom door behind her. She didn't seem upset about it.
Wanda was lying on your big soft bed, surrounded by plush animals, her housedress riding up to her hips and it was too good to be true. It seemed that you would wake up and everything would be over. You didn't care about taking off your dirty street clothes, all that mattered now was the woman underneath you. “Come on baby, make mommy happy, make me cum.” The title that Wanda gave herself completely drove you insane and you tore the silk from her body, leaving only panties decorated with lace. Even though you were on top, Wanda controlled the situation. Her skillful hands and voice guided you on how to do better.
Your knee put pressure between the older woman's thighs, which you held with your hands so tightly that they would leave bruises later. Her skin was as soft as you imagined and Wanda held your hair and guided you to her breasts, encouraging you to play with her nipples. You were ready to suffocate between her breasts, you liked them so much. Your lips wrapped around her nipple and grip on your hair tightened. “That's such a good girl, now give me your hand.” She guided you between your legs where underwear was soaked with arousal. When your finger brushed over her swollen clit, she flexed and grabbed your hair tighter. “You’re so wet, I need to try it, can I?” You whined, desperate to please.
She was completely naked in front of you and your mouth was watering at the sight. “You are even more beautiful than I imagined.” Your lips peppered her stomach with small kisses. “Did you imagine me naked, baby? Mmm I bet you were touching yourself when you thought about it.” She again directed your head, but this time to her pulsating center, and before diving between her folds, you decided to add fuel to the fire. “To be honest, I heard you scream while you were fucking with my father and while listening I touched myself right here on this bed.” You said this and your lips wrapped around her swollen bud, causing Wanda to arch her back. She squeezed around nothing and you put three fingers into her at once, twist them so that each time they hit her sensitive spot. "Yes Yes! That’s my good girl, you make mommy feel so good!” She screamed into the emptiness of the apartment and fidgeted all over your face. You pounded into her at a fast pace and added a fourth finger. After a few minutes, her walls began to tighten around you and she came, squeezing your head with her thighs as if she were going to crush you.
When she relaxed, you rose to her lips and brought you together. “Did I do good mommy?” You whispered in her ear, biting her earlobe. "Yeah baby." You lay under her side playing with her tits, sometimes kissing her shoulder. The woman stroked your cheek and lifted your face, urging you to look into her eyes. "Do you want to be with me?" The question took you by surprise and you remained silent. Wanda took this as a refusal and turned to the other side, covering her naked body with a blanket. "I understand." It came muffled from her. The last thing you wanted to do was upset her, especially since you wanted to be her girlfriend more than anything.
You got up from the bed and the older woman thought that you were leaving, but you walked around the bed and sat down in front of her so that you could see her face. "Yes, I want to be with you. I think I love you Wanda." After these words, she crawled out of her homemade cocoon and extended her hands to you. You crawled into her arms.
"What will happen next?" Your question hung in the air. More than anything, you hated uncertainty. Wanda turned to look at you. “I will divorce with your father and move into my old apartment. We can see each other without hiding it, he’s unlikely to mind.” You nodded but remained silent, encouraging her to continue. “I don’t think he should know about our new type of relationship, of course, but that’s just for him.” You nodded again. It was like something self-explanatory. In your dreams, you had already moved into Wanda’s apartment, but you didn’t tell her.
"So what is next?" A grin settled on her face. “And then baby, I’d like to think about your satisfaction.” She said as she pulled your clothes off.
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number1jeonginstan · 2 months
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A/N: I did my own thing with regard to this request as well as tried a different style of writing. I wanted to implement him being sweet and gentle as he stalked you. But idk if I really did that. This was fun to write though, and my requests are once again open so please send me something. I hope y'all enjoy it so please don't be shy and comment or reblog with your opinions because I would love to hear them - ju <3
wc: 9k (what if I told y'all I wrote this all in less than one day with sleep.)
pairing:morethankinda stalker!Felix x afab!reader
DNI if you are uncomfortable with reader giving in kind of easily. This is meant to be a stalker fic, so if you feel uncomfortable, please do not interact. I made this more dubcon because reader does give her consent, but I do not want to make anyone uncomfortable!
warnings: porn WITH a plot (like 2.5k words of smut...), kinda Stockholm syndrome, oral!fem receiving, unprotected sex, creampie, panty sniffing, edging, idk what else!
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“Who orders pineapple juice at a coffee shop?” you giggled looking at Felix as he started making an ice americano for the next customer in line. 
"Someone who doesn't want caffeine and enjoys the taste of tropical fruit, I guess." 
"Or a weirdo!" you giggled before calling out the drink for Christopher.
He chuckled along with you, enjoying the banter. His eyes watched you closely as you called out the drink, taking in every detail of your movements.
"Hey, weird can be good sometimes. Adds some spice to life, right?"
"Yeah, as long as they aren't creepy. My best friend's ex used to follow her after they broke up, even texting her from new phone numbers" You frowned before working on your next drink. 
He nodded, a frown of feigned concern on his face. 
In truth, he found himself growing more fascinated with you the more you talked. He only applied for the job to get closer to you.
The first time Felix came into “The View” he saw you smiling ever so brightly, giving this little girl a free cup of hot chocolate. From that moment on, he knew he had to get to know you, no matter the cost. 
He bribed the hiring manager with a batch of his homemade brownies. In exchange for a job, he had to make at least one batch a day. He didn’t mind working overtime, as long as he was close to you. 
He snapped out of his thoughts, finally responding to you. "That's horrible. No one deserves to be stalked like that. I hope she's doing better now."
"She is, she was really straight with him after the second time, and he stopped which is good, but sometimes I feel like I'm being watched. I don’t know how to explain it, but especially when my shift ends whenever we are working together. Maybe it's just in my head" you sighed before calling out for the next customer.
He tried to act nonchalant, but his mind was racing. Was he that obvious? Was he being too creepy? 
"I hope it's just in your head," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, eyes fixated on you as you called out to the next customer, trying to look away before you noticed him practically staring.
"Yeah, me too. Who knows, maybe I'm just being delusional," you sighed, too caught up in your own world, thinking about the late-night fear of constantly being watched. You were so distracted that you didn't even realize you had almost gripped the machine's steam frother with your bare hand.
His eyes widened as he noticed your hand grasping for the frother without a cloth. He quickly reached out to stop you, grabbing your hand gently but firmly, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. "Hey, watch out, you'll burn yourself!"
"Oh shit, thanks Lixie, I don’t know what I would do without you" you muttered, snapping yourself out of it and getting back to the drink at hand. 
He held onto your hand for a moment longer, enjoying the feel of your skin. He reluctantly let go and smiled at you, trying to act casual. "Lixie," the nickname rolled off your tongue, making his heart flutter. "No problem, just don't want you hurting yourself, you know?"
"I got it, I was just too in my head. I wish there was someone I could walk home with so I would no longer feel so terrified" you sighed, making sure there were no other orders to be completed before ranting away to Felix.
His heart skipped a beat as you confessed your desire to have someone walk you home. He saw his chance and took it. He pretended to be deep in thought, contemplating something before speaking. 
"You know, I don't mind walking you home after our shift ends. If it makes you feel safer."
"You would do that for me?" you asked excitedly, thankful for him. 
He nodded quickly, his smile growing wider. He had to control himself not to seem too eager. This is his chance to be closer to you. 
"Yeah, of course. I mean, it's the least I can do. I don't want you to be scared walking home alone at night."
"Thank you so much Lixie!" you grinned, watching the way he reciprocated your smile. His freckles shine extra bright.
He chuckled softly as you thanked him, his heart-warming as you called him “Lixie”. He found himself smiling more than usual, enjoying the way the nickname sounded coming from your lips.
"No problem, really. It’ll be nice to have some company on the walk home too”.
"I hope it's not out of your way though, I don't even know where you live" you pouted, unsure if letting him walk you home would cause him too much trouble.
He chuckled, seeing your pout and finding it adorable. He reassured you with a wave of his hand. 
"Don't worry about it, it's not out of my way at all. And if it was, I wouldn't mind." 
In truth, he was willing to walk the extra mile (literally) to be able to spend a few more moments with you.
"Are you a hundred percent sure?" too scared that you were inconveniencing him due to your paranoia. 
He nodded, his expression gentle and sincere as he looked into your eyes.
 "I'm absolutely sure. I wouldn't offer if I didn't mean it. I want you to feel safe, and if walking you home is what it takes, then I'm more than happy to do so."
He smiled, feeling a twinge of guilt about his actual motives, but pushing it away. All that mattered to him was being close to you. He took another glance at his watch, noticing that it was almost time to clock out. 
"Actually, our shift is almost done. Ready to head out?"
"We have to make a batch of brownies first though?"  
You looked at him a bit puzzled, not understanding that it was his eagerness that was causing him to forget all about his obligation.  You just chalked it off to him always being a bit forgetful since you became friends with him.
It was a common occurrence, whether it be forgetting to add mocha to a drink or a whole batch of cookies in the oven, Felix always seemed to be just a tad distracted. 
He mentally slapped himself for being so caught up in the moment that he forgot about the brownies. He tried to play it cool. "Right right, I almost forgot about that." 
He chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "We do that first, then close shop."
"Let's get to it then!" you giggled, walking to the front and locking it, turning over the kitten 'Open!' sign that your manager Lee Know had bought before rushing back towards him following him into the cafe's kitchen. 
He followed you into the kitchen, his heart fluttering as he listened to your giggles. Once in the kitchen, he quickly gathered the ingredients for the brownies, setting them on the workbench. 
"Okay, I'll start getting everything measured. Can you preheat the oven?"
“You got it Lix!” you replied back, quickly preheating the oven to 350. 
He smiled at your reply, feeling more and more relaxed in your presence. As he started measuring out the ingredients, he occasionally glanced at you, watching as you preheated the oven. He found himself mesmerized by your every little movement.
"Isn't that too much chocolate Lix?" you asked looking at the bowl that he usually double-broiled the chocolate in.
He glanced down at the bowl, realizing he had indeed put in almost too much chocolate. 
"Oh, right... maybe I got a bit carried away there." He chuckled sheepishly, a slight blush creeping up on his cheeks as he began to measure out a more appropriate amount of chocolate.
"I mean you can never have too much chocolate!" you grinned before eating the excess piece he had taken out, popping it into your mouth. 
He couldn't help but laugh when you ate the excess piece of chocolate, finding your antics adorable. His eyes lingered on your lips as you popped it into your mouth, silently wishing he could be the one feeding you the chocolate.
"You're right, but we still need some chocolate left for the brownies," he joked, his smile widening.
With a playful nudge, he continued measuring the correct amount of chocolate, his gaze flicking back to you. 
"But hey, maybe I could save a few extra pieces for us for some late-night chocolate indulgence, just between you and me."
"I like the way you think Lee Felix" 
You fed him a piece whilst taking another one for yourself, savoring the sweet taste of Hershey’s chocolate. Since you’ve begun helping him bake his brownies, he’s always been adamant about only using Hershey.
His heart skipped a beat as you fed him the piece of chocolate, the sweetness of it almost as sweet as the feeling of your touch. He felt a warm rush of pleasure run through him as he took the chocolate from your hand, his eyes never leaving yours. 
"I do have some good ideas every now and then," he replied, his voice soft and a hint of a cheeky smile playing on his lips.
You continued to help Felix with both the measuring and mixing, not trusting the stand mixer seeing as you didn't want to incorporate too much gluten into the brownies themselves. The two of you laughed away as you finished mixing and pouring the batter into their respective pans.
After the two of you finished pouring the batter into the pans and setting them in the oven, Felix couldn't help but stare at you as you both laughed together about past customers, especially the one who tried to jump over the counter to steal Lix’s brownie recipe.
 The sound of your laughter was like music to his ears, and his heart ached with a desire to keep making you laugh like this every day.
"I have to say," he said, his voice slightly hesitant, "making these brownies is always more enjoyable when you're here. You make everything better."
"Wow thanks, Lix, you are always so sweet" You pinched his cheeks admiring how squishy they were. 
Felix chuckled at your gesture, feeling his cheeks heat up underneath your pinch. He couldn't help but notice how close you were to him, your touches sending small jolts of electricity through his body.
He then looked away, pretending to busy himself by cleaning up the workstation, his heart still racing from your touch. In reality, all he wanted to do was pull you closer and just hold you, but he knew he had to control himself.
“Let me help you!” 
You didn’t want him to do everything himself, especially after he was the one who offered to walk you home, it was the least you could do. 
He was touched by your eagerness to help, his heart melting at your thoughtfulness. He wanted to tell you that he didn't mind doing it himself, but the words got stuck in his throat as he looked at your determined expression. Instead, he simply gave you a small smile. 
"Alright, if you insist," he said, handing you a cloth to wipe down the counter.
It was a sight he was used to. Every night after the two of you closed shop, you bid him a quick farewell, and he would follow you home. He was always 20 steps behind, his hood covering his face just in case. 
Unbeknownst to you, he would watch you through your kitchen window. His eyes fixated on your every move. He knew so many of your habits by now, like the way you used utensils to sing along to whatever was playing in your headphones. Or the way you always drank green tea instead of coffee, letting it steep in your owl mug. He would watch you for hours, no matter the weather, just to get the smallest peak into your life. 
He had become a little obsessed, in all honesty. He found himself unable to tear himself away from the view of you going about your day, his heart and mind fully fixated on you. Every time he peered into your kitchen window, he felt a mix of guilt and excitement. 
The guilt, of course, came from the fact that he was practically stalking you, but the excitement came from the opportunity to see you again, even if it was from afar.
He hated himself for it, but he couldn’t help it. The need to see you, to be near you was too strong to resist.
“Hey Lixie, I think we are pretty much done, are you ready to go?" you asked, pulling the brownies out of the oven directly putting saran wrap on them, and putting them in the fridge so they could get a thick crackle on them by the time Lee Know was supposed to come in and cut them for the morning rush. 
He was abruptly snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of your voice, his eyes snapping up to meet yours. For a moment, he just stared at you, his mind in a daze. 
"Uh, right..." he said, trying to compose himself. "Yeah, we're all done. Let's go."
As he watched you put on your jacket, he couldn't help but take in your every movement, his heart rate increasing once again. He felt a strange mix of excitement and nerves as he realized he was actually going to walk you home, something he had been secretly dreaming of for weeks now.
“You ready to lock up?” you asked, your head cocking to the side as you jingled the keys in front of him, ushering him to leave the building. 
"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, clearing his throat. "Let's get going." 
He reached out and took the keys from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment. It felt like an electric shock running through his body, and he instinctively pulled back, hoping you didn't notice the effect your touch had on him.
The two of you began walking side by side, the silence of the world around you causing you peace. You could no longer feel the lingering eyes that roamed your body as you had for the past few months. Instead, you felt a sense of comfort as you walked beside Felix. 
He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly feeling very dry. He was just so aware of your presence, the subtle scent of your perfume, the way your shoulder occasionally brushed against his...it was driving him crazy. It was too silent for his liking so he urged to start a conversation with you, anything to break the tension. 
"Um, so...how's your day been?" he finally managed to ask, wincing inwardly at how lame it sounded.
"Lixie, we had the same day?" 
You chuckled at his antics, your own breath stable compared to his harsh breathing as he just blinked at you, unable to process what you had just said. 
"Hello? Earth to Lee Yongbok Felix, you alive in there?"
He blinked again, his brain finally catching up with what you had said. He chuckled nervously, feeling a bit embarrassed. 
"Right...sorry, I guess I'm just a little tired." 
He mentally kicked himself for being so obvious. He couldn't let on how much your presence affected him. He was supposed to act cool and casual like nothing was going on inside his head. But he was finding it increasingly difficult to do so with every step he took next to you.
"That's your apartment isn't it?" he asked pointing up to your building. The two of you were just a couple hundred feet away from it. 
"Yeah, it is, how did you know?" you asked, a confused look on your face.
You had never brought Felix to your apartment, in a matter of fact, the only people who knew where you lived were your parents, a couple of close friends, and Lee Know because it was on your resume. 
Felix froze, his heart skipping a beat. 
He had let slip that he knew where you lived without realizing it. He mentally cursed himself, trying to think of a quick explanation. He couldn't let you know he had been the one following you home every night. That would be creepy and completely ruin any chance he had with you. 
He swallowed hard, forcing a casual laugh. "Oh, uh...I just guessed. Lucky hunch, I guess."
Before you could even respond, the sky darkened and fat raindrops began to fall, drenching both of you. The chill soaked through your clothes, making you shiver. He stood there, stunned by the sudden downpour. Without a second thought, you grabbed his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin against the cold rain. You tugged him urgently, splashing through puddles as you ran towards your apartment building. The sound of rain and hurried footsteps filled the air. Breathless, you pulled him inside, the warmth and dryness a welcome relief from the storm outside.
Felix felt a rush of adrenaline as you grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the building. The sudden rain had caught him off guard, but the feeling of your hand, warm and tight around his, sent a tingle down his spine.
 He quickly followed you inside, his heart pounding in his chest. He tried to keep his composure, but being this close to you, holding your hand, was doing all sorts of things to him.
"Here why don't you come up to my apartment, I don't want you to get sick from this weather. You can dry off and we can eat something!" 
His heart leaped at your suggestion. The thought of being in your apartment, of being alone with you...it was both exciting and nerve-wracking. But he couldn't say no, not when you were being so kind to him. 
He nodded, trying not to let his eagerness show too much. "Are you sure? I don't want to intrude..."
"I really don't mind. Come up and change into some dry clothes, okay? I'll order us something to eat. Are you okay with Thai food?" you asked as the two of you stepped into the elevator.
 Both of you were drenched, and a puddle began to form at your feet as you waited to reach your floor.
Felix nodded again, his thoughts racing as he watched the elevator numbers climb. He was going to be in your apartment, alone with you, it was like a dream come true. 
"Thai food sounds great," he managed to say, his voice slightly breathless. "I'll eat anything right now, I'm starving."
"I would hope so, you didn't eat anything our entire shift today" you pouted, trying to remember if he even had his daily shaken iced espresso with oat milk that he usually makes twice a shift.
He chuckled at your pout, his heart melting at how cute you looked. He also found it sweet that you kept track of if he had eaten or not. It was one of the many things about you that he loved. 
"Yeah, I guess you're right. I was so busy today that I kind of forgot to take a break."
 He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, a slight blush creeping up on his cheeks. He didn't want to admit that he had been so distracted thinking about you that he hadn't even thought about eating.
"That's not good Lix, you shouldn't over-exert yourself" you scolded him while trying to find the keys to your apartment.
"I know, I know, I just had a lot on my mind today," he admitted, feeling a little guilty for not taking better care of himself.
You finally found your keys and opened the door, allowing him to step inside. "I'm going to shower real quick, and then you can go after me so you don't catch a cold, okay?"
He nodded, trying to keep his cool as he stepped into your apartment. His heart was racing again as he thought about you being naked and wet only a few feet away. 
He cleared his throat, trying to compose himself. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Just don't take too long, or I might get lonely and start raiding your fridge." He joked, trying to hide his inner thoughts.
He chuckled at the sight of the empty fridge, making a mental note to offer to take you grocery shopping sometime. He quickly took your phone from you, looking down at the already-opened delivery app with your part of the order placed. 
He watched as you headed towards the bathroom, a lump forming in his throat as he imagined you stripping down and stepping into the shower. The image was burned into his mind, and it took all his self-control to not follow you into the bathroom. Instead, he took a deep breath and looked down at your phone, trying to distract himself. 
He glanced at the bathroom door, wondering how long you would be. He was trying not to be impatient, but his mind and body were both eagerly anticipating your return.
You stepped out of the bathroom, steam trailing behind you as you wrapped a towel around your damp hair. Droplets of water trickled down your neck and shoulders, soaking into the fabric of your oversized t-shirt and shorts, making them cling to your skin. The cool air of the room sent a shiver down your spine as you padded softly across the floor toward Felix. 
Felix's breath caught in his throat as you emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel and wearing thin, clinging clothes. The sight of you, still slightly wet and rosy from the shower, was almost too much for him to handle. His eyes raked over your body, taking in every inch of damp skin, and his heart skipped several beats. 
He managed to tear his gaze away from you and tried to act casual, but he couldn't help the way his body reacted to your presence. He swallowed hard, trying to control the ache in his jeans.
"Hey, Lix," you said softly, your voice carrying a hint of warmth. "The bathroom is free, so please go ahead and shower. Just hand me your clothes so I can dry them for you, okay?"
"I also left an extra pair of clothes and a towel in the bathroom so it's easier for you"
He quickly stood up, trying to adjust his jeans again and hide his arousal. He picked up his wet clothes from the floor and walked towards the bathroom. 
"Thanks," he said, his voice a little huskier than usual. "I won't be too long." 
He entered the bathroom and closed the door, locking it behind him. He leaned against the door, taking a deep breath to try and calm his nerves and the growing tension in his body.
He slowly stripped off his damp clothes, tossing them towards the door. He couldn't help but glance at the pile of clothes, imagining you taking them off of your body. He quickly picked up your shirt, smelling your scent on it, and the thought made him shiver.
Felix's heart nearly stopped when he saw the pair of black lace panties lying on the floor. His eyes widened and he quickly looked away, his heart rate immediately increasing. 
Before he could stop himself, he picked them up and brought them closer to his face, taking in the scent of your laundry detergent essence on the fabric.
His cock hardened at the thought of you wearing them, your pussy pressing and rubbing against them as the two of you worked the entire day. 
He let out a groan before slowly wrapping the fabric around his leaking cock. What you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you right? It’s not like he was purposely doing it, it was just right there for his convenience. 
He muffled his moans as he pumped his cock with your underwear, trying to be as quiet as possible as the water ran in the background. His only thought was you. 
You when you wore those cute little dresses. You. When you always bent over to get things from the fridge for him knowing how much his back ached. You. who helped him embrace his freckles. You, who was in this bathroom mere minutes before him, fully naked. 
With that he came with a groan, quickly hopping into the shower to ride out his high under the steaming hot water, cleaning your underwear of any evidence of infidelity while he was at it. 
He grabbed the soap and began to run it over his body, scrubbing away the layers of dirt and sweat, and the shame of him cumming on your pretty little panties, only further intoxicated him with your scent. 
He hadn’t realized how much time had passed until you knocked on the door to the bathroom. 
"Felix?"
He heard your voice calling out to him, breaking the spell. He quickly threw the lace into his pile of clothes and turned off the water, wrapping a towel around his waist.
"Yeah?" he called out, his voice a bit shaky. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah, the food just here so I was wondering if you were finished washing up?"
He took a quick breath, trying to compose himself. 
"Yeah, I'm just about done. I'll be out in a minute." 
He stepped out of the bathroom, his hair still damp and water droplets running down his chest and arms. He tried to ignore the way your eyes lingered on his bare skin, pretending not to notice the slight flush that was creeping up your neck.
"I'm so sorry, I had no idea I forgot to leave clothes for you in the bathroom" you whispered, your cheeks reddened. 
You quickly handed them to him before scurrying out of your room.
Felix chuckled as you handed him the clothes, his heart warming at your flustered state. He found it endearing how shy you were about accidentally forgetting to leave him clothes to change into. He tried to ignore the way his body reacted to the sight of you blushing and flustered, his towel becoming uncomfortably tight for a brief moment.
He quickly dressed in the clothes you had given him, trying his best not to focus on the fact that they smelled like you. The baggy t-shirt was comfortable, but the way it clung to his damp skin and hair made him feel even more on edge.
He took another deep breath and opened the bathroom door, stepping back into the living room where you were setting down plates and chopsticks. 
"So, what's for dinner?" he asked, feigning nonchalance and hoping you wouldn't notice the small bulge in his sweatpants.
You held up the two takeout containers, "well I ordered drunken noodles, and I kind of forgot what you did. We can always share!"
Felix chuckled again, feeling relieved that you hadn't noticed his current...situation. He tried to keep his mind off the way your shirt dipped low enough to show off your collarbones, and the way your shorts rode up slightly on your thighs. He shook his head slightly, trying to clear his thoughts and focus on the food. 
"Sounds good to me," he said, rubbing his stomach. "I'm starving."
He walked over to the couch, sat down, and tried to keep his pose casual. He glanced over at you, noticing how your hair was still damp and your cheeks were still slightly pink. The sight made his heart rate speed up again, and he tried to distract himself by looking down at the food.
He grabbed a pair of chopsticks and started digging into the noodles, trying to act like everything was normal. But as he watched you eat, he couldn't help but let his mind wander to dirty thoughts. He could see your lips wrapped around the utensils, the way your tongue would flick out to catch any stray noodle…
“You okay Lixie?” you asked, looking up at him as you ate more of your food. Your cheeks are slightly full causing him to choke on his own dish. 
He swallowed hard, trying to keep his composure. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he said, his voice a little strained. "Just...hungry, you know?"
A while passed like this, the silence of the room only occasionally broken up by small talk. The both of you were too infatuated in your food to even register what else was happening. 
"Do you want me to wash up your plate?" you asked, getting up from the cushion you were on.
Felix's eyes followed you as you got up, watching the way your shirt rode up even more, revealing more of your smooth, soft skin.
 He had to bite his lip to keep from groaning, his body responding even more to the sight of you moving around, so close and yet so out of reach. 
He quickly cleared his throat and looked away, trying to compose himself. "Uh, yeah, sure," he managed to say, his voice a little hoarse.
"So you aren't going to have your nightly cup of green tea" he asked as you began cleaning up your table and walking over to your kitchen. 
You looked at him startled, your eyes going wide. "How did you know about that?"
Felix chuckled, feeling a wave of affection for you wash over him. He knew you too well to not know about your obsession with green tea. 
"Let's just say I pay closer attention to your habits than you think," he said with a sly smile. "You have a cup of tea every night before bed, like clockwork. It's almost endearing how predictable you are."
"Felix, I've never had green tea at work, the only time I do is when I get home, how did you know what I drink before I go to bed" you asked, worry ridden on your face as you began to look around your kitchen for anything to protect you.
Felix's smile faded as he noticed the look of worry on your face, and he realized his poor choice of words.
"Hey, hey, calm down," he said, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. "It was just a guess, I swear. I didn't mean to scare you."
"It's not just a guess" you screamed. That's when it clicked, he was the one who had been watching you every night. 
The only time you were followed was after your shift with him. He knew exactly what apartment you lived in. It wasn't just a "lucky guess" as he said. He knew everything.
Felix's heart dropped as he realized the extent of his slip-up. You had figured out that he had been watching you, and now you were scared and confused. 
"Listen, please...let me explain," he pleaded, standing up from the couch. "I can explain everything, just please give me a chance to speak."
"No, I don't want an explanation, I need you to get the fuck out" you screamed, curling into a corner in your kitchen, your body shook as you began to speak up again.
"Why are you doing this to me, I thought we were friends" you whined, tears streaming down your face.
Felix's heart broke as he saw the fear and sadness in your eyes. He took a step closer to you but stopped when you shrunk further into the corner, clearly terrified of him.
"I know, I know, but please, just listen to me," he begged, his voice cracking. "I never wanted to hurt you, I swear. I just...I care about you. I care too much. And I thought...I thought I could prevent something bad from happening if I just kept an eye on you."
"How were you helping? You were the one who was causing everything" you continued to sob.
He wanted to deny your accusations, but he knew he couldn't. He had been the one stalking you, following you home every night and watching you from afar. 
He had justified it to himself, telling himself it was for your own good, but now that you knew the truth, he could see how creepy and wrong it was.
 He took a deep breath and looked you in the eye, his voice quiet and shaky. "You're right. I was the one causing everything."
He took a tentative step closer to you but stopped again when he saw the look of fear flash in your eyes. 
"But I...I never meant to scare you," he said, his own eyes tearing up. 
"I just...I just couldn't stand the thought of something happening to you, and I thought if I just kept a constant eye on you, I could prevent it."
"Protect me how!" you screamed, "why would you do this to me?" you continued to sob. 
"I just wanted to make you feel good sweetheart" he whispered, bending down to capture your face in his hand, brushing away your tears.
He brought down his lips towards your before kissing you, the taste of your tears infiltrating his mouth as you attempted to push him away.
He could feel you trying to push him away, but he just held on tighter, refusing to let you go. He knew he didn't deserve to kiss you, not after everything he had done, but he couldn't stop himself. He needed to feel your lips on his, even if just for a moment.
"Please sweetheart, want to make you feel good. Won't you be a good baby and take it?" he grinned, watching the way your lips puffed out from him ever so slightly nibbling on it.  Your tears streaking your flushed red cheeks. You looked at him meekly before nodding, taking your hand in his, not understanding how he had such an effect on you.
Felix chuckled as you nodded, his heart swelling with a twisted mix of emotions, and he pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your waist as he claimed your mouth in a deep kiss. His tongue slipped past your lips, tasting the salty tears that still lingered on them.
“Such a good girl for me” he muttered into your lips. 
Felix chuckled as you nodded, his heart swelling with a twisted mix of emotions, and he pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your waist as he claimed your mouth in a deep kiss. His tongue slipped past your lips, tasting the salty tears that still lingered on them.
He pushed you backward until your back hit the wall, pinning you against it with his body. He broke the kiss for a moment to look into your eyes, his own eyes darkened with a possessive lust. 
"You're mine, you know that right?" he asked, his voice low and hoarse. "You belong to me and only me."
You whined as he continued to caress your face. 
Felix chuckled again as you whined and leaned into his touch, the sound of your needy whines only fueling his desire for you. He leaned in and whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin,
"That's right, sweetheart. You're mine, and I'm never letting go. You're going to do everything I say, and you're going to love every second of it."
He nipped at your earlobe, his hands roaming your body, feeling the soft skin of your back through your shirt.
"And if you're a good girl for me, I'll give you everything you've ever dreamed of," he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and bite marks in his wake.
"Lixie" you whined as he continued to nibble at your skin.
Felix chuckled at your whine, his heart fluttering at the sound of his nickname on your lips. He continued to kiss and bite at your skin, marking you as his, his hands gripping your hips possessively. 
“All needy and desperate," he whispered, his voice low and hoarse. "It makes me want to do all sorts of things to you."
You grasped his hand and led him to your room, your senses overwhelmed by his embrace, feeling his warmth as he held you close.
Felix followed you obediently, his grip on your hand tight as he allowed you to lead him into your room. His heart was racing with desire and excitement, his mind consumed with thoughts of all the things he wanted to do to you. 
"So obedient," he murmured, his voice filled with praise as he pressed up behind you once you reached the edge of your bed.
He wrapped his arms around you from behind, his chest pressed against your back as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. He inhaled deeply, breathing in your scent as his hands roamed your body. 
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to have you like this," he whispered in your ear, his voice thick with desire.
"Really?" you asked, feeling his embrace tighten as he pressed closer. 
Felix hummed in response, his lips trailing kisses along your neck as he held you close. "Yeah, sweetheart," he murmured between kisses, his hands slipping under your shirt to feel your soft skin. 
"For as long as I can remember, I've craved having you like this, all to myself. It's driving me insane with how badly I want you."
"Is that why you kept watching me?" you asked, turning around to face him, your hand clutching his face, tracing every freckle as he began to speak.
"Yeah," he admitted, his voice low and hoarse. "That's why. I couldn't resist the urge to watch you, to know every move you made, to make sure you were safe."
"I couldn't stop myself from wanting to keep you close. I needed to feel like I had some control over your life, and watching you was the only way I could do that."
"That's not normal though Lixie"
"I know," he admitted, his voice quiet. "I know it's not normal, and I'm sorry. But...but I just...I just couldn't stop myself. I care about you too much."
"Then show me, please," you whispered, kissing his cheek and trailing down to his soft, plump lips.
Felix's heart skipped a beat as you kissed his cheek and then his lips, your whine sending a shiver down his spine. He responded eagerly to your kiss, closing his eyes and savoring the feel of your lips on his. But then he pulled away, a determined look in his eyes. 
"Sweetheart, I can show you, but first you have to promise me something," he said, his voice low and commanding.
"Anything" you whimpered, feeling yourself growing wetter at every passing moment that he wasn't next to you, his touch not being pressed against you
"Promise me that you're mine. Promise me that you belong to me and no one else," he whined as he cupped your cheek, pulling you closer to his face. 
"I promise" you whispered back before kissing him feverishly.
"Good girl," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "You’re all mine now, sweetheart."
Before you could even respond, he pushed you onto the bed, his body following soon after as he settled on top of you. His hands moved under your shirt, his fingers tracing the bare skin of your stomach.
He began to leave a trail of kisses down your neck, stopping to bite and suck at the spot where your shoulder met your neck. He wanted to mark you, to claim you as his own. 
"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this," he murmured against your skin, his hands continuing to roam your body.
"How long Lixie?" you whimpered as he began to pull off your shirt. He took in the sight of your bare skin, biting his lip as he straddled you, his thighs shutting yours closed as he began to kiss up and down your neck. 
"So long" he murmured between kisses. "For years, I've been waiting for this. Wanting you, aching for you."
"Want you too" you whined as you pulled off his shirt, your hands roaming up and down his chiseled chest, watching the way his body clenched slightly as you ran your finger along his abs.
He leaned down and captured your lips in a deep kiss, his tongue dipping into your mouth as he pulled you closer to him, his hands roaming your body once again.
"You have no idea what you do to me," he panted, breaking the kiss for a moment before attacking you once again, your lips pressing against one another feverishly.
You gazed at him, noting his ragged breath. "Then show me," you whimpered as his hands began to caress your thighs.
"I'll show you just how much I desire you, just how much I need you."
He began to kiss and bite at your thighs, his lips and teeth leaving a trail of marks on your skin. He wanted to make sure that you would remember this moment, that you would remember who you belonged to.
He murmured against your skin, his lips trailing kisses up your inner thigh. "Every part of you is mine."
“Yours” you whimpered as he continued to abuse you everywhere but the one place you needed him. 
He loved how needy you were for him, your body begging for his touch. He moved his lips closer to where you needed him, his breath hot against your skin.
Felix's eyebrows raised in surprise and excitement as he pulled off your shorts, his breath catching in his throat as he saw that you weren't wearing any panties. You were so wet it began to drip down to your thighs. 
"You're full of surprises, aren't you baby?" he said, his voice thick with desire. "And here I thought you were a good girl."
He slowly licked a stripe up your cunt, savoring the taste that he couldn’t quite get off your panties. 
“And you taste so good too, could eat you for hours” he moaned before diving back in, his fingers opening up your pretty little cunt for him, allowing him to nip at your clit. 
“Fuck Lix!” you whined above him, your hand finding his hair, intertwining your fingers between it, pushing him deeper into your pretty little pussy.  
He slowly removed his mouth from your cunt, your essence covering the bottom half of his face. “You are going to take what I give you or else you aren’t gonna get anything” he grinned before shoving himself back into you, letting his tongue flick out, swiping across your sensitive flesh, eliciting a gasp from your lips. 
He continued to lick and taste you, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you still as you writhed and whimpered beneath him. He loved the way you tasted. 
“So sweet baby, sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted” he muttered into your poor cunt as he began to push his finger inside of you, stretching out your whole. 
“Lixie, it feels so good” you whined as he continued to lap at you, savoring each and every moan and whine that escaped your pretty little lips. 
He continued to tease you, his tongue and lips bringing you closer and closer to the edge, but never quite pushing you over. He could feel how close you were, how your body trembled beneath him. 
"You want to come, don't you, my sweet girl?" he whispered, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. "But I'm not going to let you. Not yet."
"Why!" you whined underneath him, bucking your hips up to get any sort of stimulation.
He placed his hands on your hips, holding you down with a firm grip, preventing you from bucking against him
"Because I want you to wait for me to fuck you, baby," he murmured, his mouth moving to the other thigh, leaving a trail of love bites in its wake. "I want you to be desperate for me, aching for me. I want to ruin you completely."
His tongue continued to tease you, his lips leaving a trail of kisses up your inner thigh, his teeth nipping at your skin as he went.
 "I want you to be so desperate for release that you'll do anything I ask," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. “And only when you truly beg for me will I finally give you my cock” he chuckled against your cunt. 
"Please Lixie, need you in me, can't do this anymore" you whined, your chest heaving and tears began to stream out of your eyes. He had been edging you for so long, pulling away as soon as he felt you were close to your high. His fingers that were previously thrusting in you stopped completely, his soaked face only rising to laugh at your pathetic face.
"Oh sweetheart, you're so cute when you beg," he said, his voice low and hoarse. "But I don't think you've earned it yet."
"Please, I've been such a good girl for you Lixie, please let me cum, or at least fuck me" you whimpered "I'll do anything, anything you ask me, just please let me cum" you whined, tears falling out faster as your entire body shook from the multiple orgasms that were ripped away from you ever so easily under his grasp.
Felix's eyes darkened at your words, his body responding to your desperate pleas. He loved seeing you like this, so needy and pathetic, begging for him to give you what you so desperately needed. He knew he had complete control over you, and he loved every second of it. 
"Anything, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice low and rough. "You'll do anything I ask, no matter what?"
"Yes Lix, anything, just fuck me already!" you screamed.
He leaned down, his body pressing against yours as he spoke into your ear, his breath hot against your skin.
“Since you’ve been such a good girl, maybe I should give it to you” 
You simply nodded your head up and down as fast as you physically possible, showing you truly how eager you were for him. 
He laughed at how desperate you were for him, pulling down his boxers, allowing his extremely hard cock to slap his stomach, the tip red and angry already leaking pre-cum. 
It took all his might to not cum in his boxers at the taste of you. 
“Please Lixie, need your cock inside of me” you whined, spreading your legs open for him, allowing him to see how your hole pulsed at just the sight of him standing there, his hard cock slapped against his stomach. 
Felix's eyes darkened even more at your words, his breathing ragged with desire. He was losing control, his own need for you becoming almost too much to resist fucking you. 
He slowly bent down, positioning himself between your legs, his hands pinning your hips to the bed to keep you still. He looked down at you, his eyes dark and possessive.
With that, he pushed inside you, a guttural moan escaping his lips at the feeling of your hot tight cunt wrapping around his length.
You moaned underneath him, his body pressing against yours as you got used to his sheer size inside of you. 
He buried himself deep within you, filling you completely, his hands continuing to roam around your body. He needed to touch you, to make sure that his fantasy were real. 
He had spent nights jerking off to the thought of you begging for his cock, whimpering for him, and it took all his strength to cum right there and then at the sight of your eyes pressed together, your mouth hung open as he began to thrust inside of you. 
He began to move, his thrusts rough and desperate, his breathing ragged and shallow. He needed you, needed to possess you and claim you completely.
“Feels so good Lix”
You kept babbling at the feeling of him inside of you. The only thought on your mind was him. 
“Lix, Lix, Lix” you kept muttering, drool slowly escaping past your lips. 
"You're mine, sweetheart," he repeated, his voice low and rough in your ear. "No one else is ever going to make you feel this way again. Only me. You're mine."
“Only yours” you whimpered out. 
"That's right, sweetheart," he growled, his hips picking up speed. "You're mine and mine alone. No one else will ever touch you, have you, own you. Only me."
He slowly pulled his hand down to where you needed him most, playing with your clit as he continued his brutal pace inside of you. 
"That's right, sweetheart," he growled, his hips picking up speed. "You're mine and mine alone. No one else will ever touch you, have you, own you. Only me."
He buried his face in your neck, his teeth and tongue leaving marks and bites as he continued his relentless pace, his breathing ragged and uneven.
"I won't let anyone else have you," he whispered in your ear, his lips nipping at your skin. " I'll make sure of that. You're mine, forever. No one else will ever know you the way I do. No one else will ever be able to make you feel the way I can."
His hands roamed your body as he continued to claim you, his lips and teeth marking your skin, his hips never ceasing in their relentless pace.
Every time you called out his name, every whimper and moan that escaped your lips, only served to drive him deeper into his primal need for you.
He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking with yours. He wanted to see your face, to see the way you looked at him in this moment, completely lost in the pleasure and ecstasy he was giving you.
“Aren’t you a good girl for me?” he asked, slightly slapping your cheek to get a response
“Yes!” you screamed as he began to push your legs back, his cock pressing deeper inside of you, hitting your g-spot every time he rutted his hips inside of you. 
“Gonna cum” you moaned as he continued his brutal pace. 
“Yeah, baby? Gonna cum for me? Gonna cum all over my cock like a good girl?” he growled into your ear, chasing his own high. 
His hips continued to slam into you, his breathing ragged and wild. He couldn't get enough of you, couldn't get close enough. He needed you, needed to claim every part of you as his own.
Felix growled low in his throat as you screamed that you were close to cumming. The sound of your ecstasy only fueled his own need and desire for you. He wanted to bring you to the edge, to make you lose all control beneath him.
"Not yet," he growled in your ear. "You're not coming without me."
His lips moved back to your neck, kissing and biting their way down to your collarbone. His hips began to move faster, his breathing becoming more ragged as he continued to drive you towards the edge of ecstasy.
"You're so close, aren't you?" he whispered in your ear, his voice thick with desire. "I can feel it. I can feel how close you are for me. Your walls are clenching around me like a fucking vice, but you're not going to come yet, not until I say so." his pace is relentless and unceasing.
You continued to moan his name, like a fucking chant and he couldn't resist your desperate plea any longer. He could see how close you were to your release, how your body was tense and trembling beneath him. He loved seeing you so desperate for him.
"Come for me. Let go, sweetheart. Let me hear you cry out my name."
“Felix!” you screamed one last time before letting go.
He continued to move his hips through your climax, his body trembling and shaking with the effort. His pace became more irregular and erratic as he approached his own release. He could feel himself nearing the edge, could feel the pressure building within him.
"Sweetheart," he gasped, his voice thick with need and desire. "I'm...I'm going to come. I can't hold on much longer."
“Come inside, please come inside of me” you whined, your body becoming more and more overstimulated as he continued to rut into you. It was easy to reach your second orgasm, your walls clenching around his cock as Felix could feel his control slipping. His body was wracked with tremors and shivers as he neared his release. Your words only drove him closer to the edge, his body responding to your plea without hesitation.
"Yes," he gasped, his voice barely more than a guttural moan. 
His hips slammed into you with one final, rough thrust, his release crashing over him like a wave. He groaned your name, his arms wrapping around you tightly to keep you close as he lost himself in the ecstasy of his climax. He buried his face in your neck, his breath hot and ragged against your skin.
“So baby, how about some green tea?” he giggled, pulling your body into him. 
“Just wanna stay like this” you whined as he kissed the top of your head, covering the two of you with the blanket.
"You're mine," he whispered again, his voice thick with emotion. "All mine. No one else gets to have you, no one else gets to touch you, no one else gets to know you the way I do. You're mine, and I'm never letting you go."
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cherie-doll · 2 months
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𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: Them As Parents #2
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𐙚 Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Alejandro, Phillip Graves, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto
𐙚ྀ ͜ ͡ ︶ Added Nikto this time + his is a little longer bc I didn’t add him the first time
Ghost
Lost the kids at ikea once
The way he was so unbothered too
He’s so nonchalant about it because he’s confident that the children know better and are capable of taking care of themselves
If anything he’s a little anxious about your reaction if you found out
So when an employee notices Simon frequently turning his head, eyes roaming around they approach him
When Simon told the employee he had lost two little kids the employee was more concerned than him
Soap
When you leave the kids home alone with their father it’s almost worse than if they had been left alone
He is NOT a trusted adult
If you don’t leave a large enough pot of food for them Soap will order whatever the kids want to eat
Unfortunately for you, his sons inherited his big appetite
You come back home, groceries in hand gawking at the boxes of takeout set all over the table
“Johnny, I said I wouldn’t be long at the store…”
“Sorry, got a bit hungry” he responds while stuffing his face
Gaz
When going to the store he likes getting matching outfits for his girls
He’ll overload the cart with an assortment of cute bows and hairclips, pretty dresses, and adorable little shoes
When going out, he carries a backpack for each kid packed with a sweater in case it’s cold, comfy shoes incase they lose one, and snacks for when they’re hungry or fussy
He gets so excited when he’s there to witness his baby’s first everything, records it on a calendar and you best believe he’ll never forget those small milestones
Alejandro
When he’s cooking meat on the grill outside he raises his head to watch the kids play in the yard
His love language is calling them over to give them a piece of roast meat to taste
When the kids were old enough to drive he first taught them with a riding lawnmower because he didn’t trust them with his truck
He likes to be mean to his kids (in a loving way ofc) and play pranks on them
Phillip Graves
He can be stern at times but most of the time he’ll spoil his kids rotten
Especially his daughter
When she asked for a pony he almost decided to move to a house with 3 acres for a couple of horses
You reasoned with him and instead settled to take your daughter to weekly horseback riding lessons
Keegan
One of his favorite things to do is figuring out what features of yours and his he can find in his kids
“She’s got your smile” “He has your wit” “Your sass is apparent even in our children”
I bet he’s the type of carry his toddlers like a bag
He pays great attention to detail so he’ll immediately notice if something or someone upset his children
König
After he overcame his insecurity he was head over heels for the baby
Will constantly watch over your shoulder, taking in every detail of how you care for the children so he can do it too
Not wanting to spend a moment apart from you or your children
If he’s running errands he’ll take the kids with him
When his daughter was a few months old he used to bring her with him into the hardware store and proudly show her off
It would make his day when someone would tell him how adorable she was and how alike they look
Horangi
Imagine him with twins ૮꒰/ฅ//ฅ//꒱ა
He’s almost always carrying them
You argue with him over this because it’s made your toddlers used to being held all the time
He’d be a great girl dad, wouldn’t resist buying cute toys and kid makeup sets and letting them paint his nails and apply lipstick on him
Would walk around in princess high heels and bows whilst keeping a poker face
Nikto
He wants to be seen like a pillar, someone his kids can rely on and never fear for their safety
Though concealed, under the strong surface his heart pulsates and beats the moment he’s handed the squirming bundle at the hospital
A mix of emotions swirls underneath his facade, the small face he’s staring at is his flesh and blood and he can hardly believe it
Strives to create a secure ambience at home for his little ones to grow up in
He wishes he could shield them from all harm
On mornings when he’s supposed to rest, the kids will sneak into your bedroom and crawl into bed between you
He groans, feigning annoyance, but scoops them in his strong arms chuckling as they squeal and giggle
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salaimoi · 2 months
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𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒅𝒇𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓 — 𝒃𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒆 𝒆𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉
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[˚୨୧⋆. 𝒔𝒚𝒑𝒏𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒔] after his wife’s death, you became toji fushiguro’s only reliant shoulder. however, unbeknownst to you, your deceased friend’s ex-husband had ulterior motives in mind when he began to pursue you.
[˚୨୧⋆. 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆] angst
[˚୨୧⋆. 𝒘𝒄] 2.k
[˚୨୧⋆. 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔] yellow is reader’s pov, blue is toji’s pov. it might sound repetitive and rushed bc i just wanted to get this out of my drafts. i know billie’s song came out like ages ago so it wouldn’t make sense to release this any later than it already is
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𓂃 ོ𓂃 Things fall apart, and time breaks your heart. I wasn't there, but I know.
toji always reassured you a million times; he wasn’t heartbroken over his split with his ex-wife, not in the slightest. he rarely opened up about his past, let alone his previous relationships. and yet, deep down, you knew he hadn’t properly processed their rupture.
the most he ever disclosed to you was the fact that there was nothing left to salvage in his old relationship — so he moved on, and so did she. 
but was that the entire truth? 
you noticed the prolonged glances he would take when opening his wallet. the empty look behind his eyes when he stared down at his naked ring finger. even the faint sniffling at night that he tried convincing you were nothing more than allergies. but you knew he was silently mourning her. 
her – the real love of his life.
She was my girl. I showed her the world, but fell out of love and we both let go. ⋆࿐
i made it my life goal to tend to her happiness. the only reason for my very existence was to see that she had everything she could ever want. hell, that’s the only thing i’ve ever been good at.
i never kept anything from her — except my line of work. i couldn’t bring myself to tell her the man she fell in love with was a deadbeat mercenary who bathed in the blood of others for a living. as much as i tried to protect her from that side of my life, she eventually went digging her nose where it wasn’t needed. 
the aftermath of her discovering the truth about my hidden agenda came at the price of our relationship. 
she couldn’t withstand the constant pain of being by my side any longer, to turn in bed only to see a bastard by her side. she wholeheartedly believed that the man that now stood before her was no longer the one she fell in love with. 
somehow i didn’t blame her.
She was cryin’ on my shoulder. All I could do was hold her.
i still remember it so vividly — how her body trembled against mine like a leaf. tears coursed down her cheeks as she clung to me like a lifeline, seeking comfort in the midst of her anguish. as selfish as it may sound, the weight of her sorrow became almost too much to bear. 
i couldn't offer excuses or apologies; these were empty gestures that wouldn't alleviate the agony she felt at that moment. instead, i stood there, silently holding her, offering my presence as the only comfort.
the guilt washed over me in waves as i cradled her, feeling her heart shatter a little more with each sob. i knew i was the cause of her pain, yet i couldn’t tell her the whole truth. all i could do was hold her, wishing i could undo the past.
𓂃 ོ𓂃 Only made us closer until July.
the moment he began pursuing you when enough time had gone by, it immediately felt wrong. he was your friend’s ex-husband, after all. toji had never looked at you twice before, and now, he suddenly had lustful eyes for you? 
you eventually conceded because you wanted to be there for him, giving him the benefit of the doubt that he had no ulterior motives. but one way or another, every conversation at dinner circled back to her. 
“oh she loved mashed potatoes.” 
“fun fact, she had a strawberry allergy.” 
“did you know this brand of vanilla ice cream was her favorite?”
and as much as it pained you, you became a reliant ear for him — someone who would listen to all the little details he swore he had forgotten the day she divorced him. even if every bone in your body wanted to run in the opposite direction, far, far away from him, you stayed. 
maybe all he needs is time, you told yourself.
right?
Now I know that you love me. You don't need to remind me. I should put it all behind me, shouldn't I? ⋆࿐
your affection always remained a constant in my turbulent world, like a gentle rain that falls softly even amidst the storm. but the longer the internal storm went on, the more ravenous the regret and guilt raged on. i found myself unable to fully comprehend the depth of your love for me, but deep down, i knew that your love was unwavering. 
i knew that in order to truly move on, i had to let go of the past and embrace the present; you represented that fresh start i so urgently needed. but the thought of her still lingered, a constant reminder of what once was but should no longer be. it was as if i was being consumed by my own memories, unable to break free. as if a part of me still longed for the past. 
the weight of my conflicting emotions burdened my every waking moment, leading me to push you away with no explanation. feelings for the both of you coexisted, and i couldn't fully commit to one without betraying the other. every time i looked at you, guilt would wash over me for putting you through this hell.
 likewise, every time i looked at her picture, i felt like a traitor for ever moving on as soon as i did.
But I see her in the back of my mind all the time. Just like a fever, like I’m burning alive, like a sign. ⋆࿐
beneath the mask of indifference, i was plagued by shame. it was hard to accept that the girl who once consumed my thoughts was no longer part of my life, and looking at you, i realized that your love knew no bounds; that wasn’t enough for me. 
i hadn’t stopped loving her. 
it felt like a fever that never broke. an unrelenting heat that burned deep inside me, reminding me of the girl who dwelled in the back of my mind all those years ago.
every word about my past, every little detail about my ex, felt like a confession at church – a church where my sins would be revealed to the world. 
talking about my past wouldn’t magically absolve me of my past, now would it? redemption was never an option for me, and i wasn’t asking for it. instead of trying to cleanse myself of my history, i decided to leave it all behind like a forgotten box in an attic. 
𓂃 ོ𓂃 Well, good things don't last, and life moves so fast. I'd never ask who was better 'cause she couldn't be more different from me.
he told you to let it go — to let it die like she did that fateful day. it was no use keeping her memory alive, he said, but if that was the case, why did he take her last name months later? 
not to mention they spent years together — even conceived a child together; a child he named after her, but that detail never seemed to make its way to you. 
everyone told you to stop comparing yourself, but how could you not? she was everything you weren’t even after death: soft spoken, graceful, gentle, patient, loving. 
you didn’t dare ask such a redundant question so you didn’t voice it, but your continuous comparison to her was eating you alive; toji noticed it. you hadn’t slept with him in almost a month, internally afraid he’ll blurt out her name instead of yours.
𓂃 ོ𓂃 And I know that you love me. you don't need to remind me.
he went out of his way to send more ‘i love u’ messages than before; they seemed forced, just like your relationship. 
she had previously informed you of things that found their way to the most profound recesses of your mind. you didn’t flinch at the time, because you were mesmerized that he did such things for her, but it affected you later on. 
you learned bitter truths that made you doubt his love for you. and when you finally realized he didn’t do any of the things she spoke of, it dawned on you; toji didn’t love you. 
not like he loved her. 
𓂃 ོ𓂃 You say no one knows you so well but every time you touch me, I just wonder how she felt.
you’d stay up late at night countless times wondering what toji’s affectionate touch actually felt like. it was something only she ever knew, and you’d do anything to get a semblance of that feeling. 
but it was obvious no one knows the real him — not like she did.
despite everything, you decided to give this relationship one last try by booking a hotel for the both of you. everything inside you screamed that it was a horrible idea, but you did it anyway.
𓂃 ོ𓂃 Valentine's Day, cryin’ in the hotel. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me, so I kept it to myself.
and he finally did it. he mistakenly blurted out her name on the most romantic day of the year. 
“i-i’m sorry.” toji rushed to apologize, grabbing a hold of your arm so you wouldn’t walk out the door.
“I wonder, do you see HER in the back of your mind, in my eyes!?” was the only thing you could force yourself to reply in that moment, breaking away from his grip in the process.  
“i do,” toji dejectedly admits with a hint of sorrow behind his voice. or was it indignity?
he pauses, absentmindedly digging his nails into the tender flesh of his balled up fist as he grapples with his conscience. all along, he knew the day to finally hold himself accountable would come, but he didn’t think it would’ve been like this. 
his mind involuntarily wandered, and in the depths of your gaze, he saw glimpses of his deceased wife — a ghost that lingered in the back of his subconscious even after all this time.  
memories of her flood his mind, and for a brief moment, the both of you merge into one — his past and present colliding into one. the familiar shade of your irises, the identical shine behind them, the bright glimmer of light behind them when you smiled — all of it brought a pang of bittersweet nostalgia to him. 
silence overtook the room like a storm, and with it, your heart. so he does see a reflection of his dead wife when he stares into your eyes — the eyes he promised captivated him to no bounds. 
“was all of it a lie, then?” 
“no.” 
“how was it not a lie, toji?”
“it wasn’t a lie, doll-“ 
“don’t call me that.” you interrupt him with words almost sharp enough to cut him, a slight tremble behind your voice. 
tears immediately welled up in the delicate corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment. his expression softened at the sight; however, his reluctance to approach you remained. he knew he was the reason behind your hurt, just like he was the cause of hers all that time ago. history does indeed repeat itself, doesn’t it? 
he wished he could find the words that would help ease your pain — the exhaustion and heartache you felt. to take it all away with a mere sentence, that would be quite incredible. but that’s not how life works.
“okay.” he finally whispered, inhaling a deep breath in a mix of defeat and remorse before continuing. “i promise none of it was a lie; i meant every word. i really meant it when i said i adored your eyes…” 
he dry swallows a couple of times, as if doing so would suppress the sorrow lodged in his throat. his eyes darted around the room, as to not meet your own out of the unbearable guilt that simply refused to be consumed. 
the hesitation behind his subtle actions was a telltale that there was a ‘but’ hidden underneath the surface-level flattery. and with an equal amount of incertitude and delay behind your own words, alongside with a hoarse voice, you brace yourself for the moment he finally admits this so-called love of yours was nothing but an illusion.
“but?” 
“…but they’re not her eyes.” 
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buckyalpine · 1 year
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Fic idea - Bucky’s family & time travel
You know how I keep proposing ideas, then adding it to my wips and then I stare at it while it stares at me. Heres another. I'm so sorry. Swear this will end in fluff, you'll just suffer in between. So imagine the most angstiest angst where Bucky gets married and has a child with his sweetheart before he’s sent to war. He's loved her his whole life and now they have a little one together; nothing could be more perfect. He promises he'll be back safe and sound with a kiss to her forehead and plenty of kisses for his baby girl.
Until Hydra captures him and turns him into the Winter Soldier. His first mission is to eliminate any familial ties. He doesn't feel anything when he pulls the trigger. He's successful and carries out hundreds of others kills, each searing itself in some part of his brain but he's constantly wiped before he can piece anything together.
But then he's rescued and he has to pick up the broken fragments of his memories and its too much of a fog for him to understand. At the very least he has his best friend by his side again and he's slowly starting to remember.
His first question is about his sweet y/n and his little girl.
His happiness is short-lived when Steve doesn't say anything. Bucky doesn't understand why he avoids his gaze, why he suddenly looks so distraught. No amount of pleading or begging works, his best friend doesn't breathe a word, asking Bucky to please let things be.
To learn to live with the way things were.
He can't do that though. He needs answers. When the team is away on a mission, he find a way to get into his records that SHIELD kept on him, wondering if they ever had anything on file about his life before he was captured. Every single detail about who he was before the war to after is written with details and camera footage.
He doesn't move from where he's seated, a blank expression on his face while everyone returns. Steve approaches Bucky first, worried about why the soldier looked so pale as if he'd aged 10 years in the past 3 days.
"I killed them?" His broken whisper of a voice breaks Steve's heart when he sees the file Bucky was looking at, a picture of him, his little girl on his shoulders and wife all smiling at the camera. The sheet he's clutching onto has their names along with deceased written write across the sheet.
Bucky is inconsolable.
His dreams are no longer about others he has killed. He's flooded with memories of her; the soft ivory dress she wore on their wedding day, the baby pink lace she had on when he undressed her that same night, the scent of her perfume, the sound of her laugh, the kicks of their baby, the sound of her happy squeals when he blew raspberries onto her chubby cheeks.
Those happy memories are quickly replaced with her pleading for him to remember. To just remember at least once.
Jamie, it's me, please, m'your y/n, Bucky, don't-
D-daddy?
Baby, go to your room-Bucky no-
Mama!
Please, not Bella, James, you love her baby, you love us- please remember me-
I-I love you
The pain of Bucky's cries are too much for anyone to handle. They're a different type of sadness. So much so, even Tony's starting to worry when he doesn't see Bucky for days on end. He begs to be put back in cyro, to have his memories wiped, to have his brain fried, anything to forget. He doesn't care about the pain, he just wants it all to end.
Imagine theres a mission that involves time travel. Steve and Sam stand on the platform, ready to enter the portal, setting their timers for a specific date in the past. When Sam catches Steve adding another date without telling him, he quietly adds it on his suit as well, piecing what the Captain plans on doing.
The mission takes a little longer than anticipated. Steve is surprised when Sam is beside him when he travels back to the 40's, the both of them now with a new mission in mind, alternating the future be damned. If they had a chance to give Bucky the life he deserved again, they would do it. Bucky doesn't ask for much. In fact he never asked for anything. He deserved this.
Imagine the shock everyone gets when the portal opens up at the compound and there are now 4 people on the platform. Steve, Sam, a woman and a little girl no older than 2. She's dressed in a simple dotted dress, still wearing an apron around her waist while her baby stays clinging around her, tucking her face into her mommas neck.
Imagine the way Bucky would collapse with her when he sees his family again, crying endlessly being able to hold his wife and child, something he thought he'd lost forever. Everyone gives the little family some privacy while he hugs and kisses them, cuddling them to his chest, still right on the lab floor. Explanations for everything can wait, right now he can't believe he has his angels back.
Imagine the way they'd fall asleep that night, sleeping in bed for once, now that he's reunited with his y/n and his Bella.
imagine the endless love he'd make to her while Bella spends time with her God Fathers, aka all the Avenger men.
Imagine she's pregnant soon after and they can continue being a family in the present, doing all the things they always dreamed of.
Anyway, just a thought.
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piedinthepiper · 7 months
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Prima Ballerina ˖ ⊹
Yandere!Jimin x ballerina!reader
Summary: What’s the difference between a great ballerina and the greatest ballerina? The answer is Park Jimin. And he had his eyes on you in more than a professional way.
Warnings: heavy dubcon, Jimin is super cocky and thinks he knows everything (misogyny?), cursing, corruption, Jimin is also a creep, age gap (reader is of legal age), stalking (non descriptive), smut
Wc: 4.3k
A/n: Written for this request. I love black swan and ballet so I had to do this! Hope you enjoy! Don’t be a silent reader! Like, repost and comment!
Disclaimer: This is 100% fiction. I am in no way saying that this is how any member of bts would act. Nor do I condone the actions detailed in the story. This is purely for entertainment purposes only. If any of the warnings trigger you, or you’re under 18 ¡do not read! I’m not your mother, and I don’t take any accountability for what you decide to read online!
Another disclaimer: I know nothing about ballet except for whatever ballet they show in the Barbie movies. Everything is off Google, so some technical terms and such might be incorrect.
You did a final jump before the dramatic music came to an end. His eyes were piercing through you. Watching your every movement, your every step, your every breath. But he watched you all, you thought to yourself. Everybody had to be perfect for the premiere of Swan lake. The hardest and most demanding ballet you had ever danced in your career. The choreography was almost impossible. So Mr. Park had yet again kept you there for hours overtime, and all of you were exhausted.
“Agh, my feet hurt. I hope this was the last round.”
Your friend, Maria, whispered to you. You smiled at her and was about to answer, when a loud clap was heard throughout the room. It silenced everyone.
“Ms. Sanderson, do you have something to tell the company?”
Mr. Park locked eyes with her. Staring her down from across the room like a predator. She looked a bit tongue tied for a second.
“Ehm- no. No, Mr. Park.”
He nodded at her answer.
“I do think I heard complaining back there, are you sure you didn’t say anything?”
She looked down to the floor and carefully shook her head.
“I don’t believe you, you’re pathetic. Out of my studio!”
He yelled at her and pointed a sharp finger towards the exit. Her eyes continued to stay on the floor. Accepting her fate.
“I said it!”
You yelled back and raised your hand. His eyes turned back to you.
“Bold of you, Ms. y/l/n. Thanks to you all the swans have to practice for another hour. The rest are dismissed.”
The room was filled with sighs and groans.
“Ok, let’s make that two.”
No one uttered a single word, afraid that the time would get longer.
“That’s what I thought. You, come with me.”
He briefly pointed at you, before he started to walk out of the practice room.
“The rest of you can take a 10 minute break.”
Maria looked at you with a apologetic look.
“Thank you, y/n.”
She said and grabbed your hand. You gave her a small smile. Of course you would stand up for her. She was your best friend in the company.
“Yeah, thanks a lot y/n.”
One of the other girls said sarcastically. You didn’t pay it any mind, you would also be furious if someone made you stay two hours overtime when you already were on overtime. You grabbed your leg warmers.
“No worries, you know I got you.”
You comforted Maria, before you started walking towards the exit. You knew Mr. Park went to his office. It wasn’t your first time being scolded.
“Sit down.”
He said once you entered. He was already sitting behind his desk. You sat down opposite of him, leaning down to slide into your leg warmers.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Park.”
You started off with. Trying to sound as apologetic as possible. He sighed.
“Do you think I do this for fun, y/n?”
You got up from your crouched position and looked him in the eyes.
“No I don’t.”
He was one of the best ballet teachers and directors in the whole world. It was obviously an honour just to be able to dance for him. But you knew he had a soft spot for you for some reason. That’s why you were comfortable taking Maria’s place.
“I would much rather be at home as well, relaxing and eating a good meal. But there would be no Swan lake, and there would be no good ballerinas without me.”
He pulled his hand through his black hair in stress. It was slicked back like usual, but throughout the day a few strands had loosened.
“If everyone stopped practicing at five o’clock like scheduled, the premiere would be nothing but chaos. Do you understand that, y/n?”
You nodded. He looked you up and down for a second. Taking in your form. He slowly got up and walked towards you. He grabbed your chin harshly, making you look back up at him.
“I’ve been observing you for the last days, you truly are far too beautiful and talented to be just a swan.”
You raised your eyebrows at his sudden compliment.
“You’re prima ballerina material, for sure.”
His hand slid to the side of your face, cupping your jaw.
“Too bad I have to fire you.”
“What?!”
Your eyebrows crossed as you shook your head out of his grip. His hand went into his pocket, making him look surprisingly relaxed.
“The two of us, let alone the entire company, knows that this isn’t your first time being sent to my office.”
You looked at him in shock. You couldn’t believe what he was saying.
“If I don’t give you the consequences, it’s going to look suspicious.”
You shook your head. He was going to fire you just because something as simple as complaining?
“You can’t do that.”
“I’ll do whatever I want with my ballerinas.”
He smirked again, before walking to stand right in front of you. You looked up and down his long body. Before looking back at him with your most innocent, but still sultry eyes.
“Please don’t fire me, Mr. Park. You wouldn’t do that to me would you?”
He cocked his head at your plea. Scanning you up and down yet again. He had a puzzled look on his face.
“Don’t test me.”
You grabbed his hand as you fell down to your knees. You knew he liked it when you begged. And since this was a life or death situation for your career, you didn’t mind being a little extra.
“I’ll do anything. Please just let me continue to dance for you. I’m nothing without you. I can’t- you can’t-”
You knew what buttons to push. His ego was too big to not take the bait.
“You’re right. It would be a shame to waste your potential.”
He lifted your head up again by your chin. A sudden sexual tension hit you, once you saw the outline of his bulge. You knew your actions had an effect on him, but not to that extent.
“It would be a shame to waste such a pretty face.”
You tried your best to look him in the eyes. It was hard to not shy away at a situation like that, even for you.
“Please, Mr. Park.”
He inhaled sharply, before he broke out in a smile.
“I forgive you, y/n. I can’t live with myself if I don’t give you another chance.”
You smiled up at him as well, preceding to get back up on your feet. But his arm found your shoulder and stopped you in your ascend.
“Wait.”
He warned you, and you quickly sat back down on your knees.
“I like seeing you like this, it’s not often you look so- submissive.”
Chills ran down your spine at his words. You definitely did not take that as a compliment. You were quite fiery, yes. And in any normal situation you would never let a man speak to you like he did. But the fear of losing your job, combined with the reverence you felt towards him, made you defy yourself.
“After this season I want you to take private lessons with me. Every Tuesday and Thursday.”
You nodded carefully, not looking up at him.
“Don’t look so down, darling. I’ll make you my next prima ballerina.”
“He said what?”
Maria half whispered in shock.
“Ms. Sanderson.”
Mrs. Petrova, your instructor, who was so old she probably was alive when swan lake was composed, hushed her. Maria looked at her before looking down at her moving feet. The company was warming up, standing in clean lines against the railing, moving to the rhythm of the slow classical music.
“Not only did he not fire you.”
She whispered once Mrs. Petrova was at the other end of the room.
“But he also said he would make you a prima ballerina?”
You nodded.
“Switch to third position!”
The two of you switched.
“Wow, you are so lucky. Mr. Park hasn’t had a prima ballerina in years.”
You smiled at her, and lifted you head higher when Mrs. Petrova walked by. You remained silent until you knew she was far enough away.
“I’m happy of course, it’s just- I don’t know. There’s something weird about him.”
“Yeah he’s like really cocky.”
She answered and held back a laugh.
“That too, but he’s just eerie. Like I don’t know if I want to spend so much time with him alone.”
“Ms. y/l/n! Would you like to share something with the company? Or do I have to send the two of you to Mr. Parks office?”
Mrs. Petrova suddenly bursted out. You locked eyes with Maria. Not knowing what to answer the old hag.
“We were just talking about-“
“Boys, just boys.”
You interrupted Maria. Not wanting her to say anything about you or Mr. Park. Mrs. Petrova gave the two of you a strict look, before the music started playing again.
“Please focus on your movements, not the opposite gender.”
She scolded before walking away from the two of you.
“And fourth position!”
“He just kept looking at me weirdly, and telling me that I’m beautiful and shit.”
You said as the two of you were walking down towards the cafeteria for lunch.
“Oh my god! He probably has a crush on you or something!”
Maria said a little bit too loud. You poked her in her side with your elbow.
“Please, keep it down.”
She started laughing, and you quickly followed. As you turned a corner you crashed into something. Or rather someone. A hand snuck around you waist, keeping you from falling. You looked up, finding the familiar brown eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Park. I didn’t see where I was going.”
He looked at you for a second, before smiling. He didn’t let go of your waist, and when you became aware of that you awkwardly stepped away from him.
“No harm done.”
He simply said and walked away. You looked over at Maria.
“I get it.”
She simply said as you started walking again.
“Right?”
You asked, looking back at her as she tried to keep up with you.
“What ever look he just gave you was not the look you give to someone you have a crush on.”
The season had ended, for a minute you felt relief. Knowing you had time off now to just relax before the next season. But as you read the message on your phone, you felt that relief fade away.
“Studio 5, next Thursday at 07.00 am. Don’t be late.”
You sighed, was this really what you wanted? Of course it was a dream come true to potential become Mr. Parks new prima ballerina. But you couldn’t help but feel weird about that time in his office. It seemed like he had other intentions in mind. Mr. Park was an attractive man yes, but he was way older than you and you didn’t want his attention in that way. He was your teacher, your mentor. Not a potential hook up. You didn’t see him in that way, and you hoped against all odds that he didn’t see you like that either.
What you didn’t know was that in that moment, outside on the dark street. He was there. Looking at you through your window. Watching your puzzled look at his text. He didn’t know his intentions fully yet either. But he did know they were not good.
“Higher.”
He simply said as he watch you dance to the music. It was your fifth lesson together, and everything was going well. You hadn’t seen the side of him that you saw when he proposed this idea. And you were enjoying yourself, getting these private lessons had really helped you improve. In the next second arabesque, you lifted your leg even higher. Showing him that you listened. But he still shut the music off. You stepped down from your tips, looking at him as he walked up to you.
“Turn around.”
He said once he reached you. And you did as instructed. You looked at him through the big mirrors.
“Do your second arabesque.”
You stood back up on your toes, and gracefully bent into a second arabesque.
“Look at yourself in the mirror.”
He said, and you did. You instinctively pushed your leg even further up, once you saw your own reflection.
“Now back to full position.”
You moved your face upwards again, looking away from the mirror. You felt his hands touch your waist. He straightened your back, before one of his hands went to your lifted leg.
“Look back at yourself.”
He almost whispered in your ear, now with one hand on your waist, and the other holding your leg higher than what you were comfortable with. You smiled once you saw yourself. Your arabesque looked different, more sophisticated.
“When you do your second arabesque, or any arabesque for that matter. Remember this. Straight back and high leg.”
He said in a low comforting tone once he saw your smile. You nodded, and stepped down from your tippy toes. He let go of your leg, but moved that hand to the other side of your waist.
“Think of me holding your waist, it’ll help you stabilise.”
He whispered now, you felt his warm breath on the back of your neck. You turned to look at him.
“Thank you.”
You muttered. His eyes immediately fell to your lips, and in a split second his lips were on yours. You were caught off guard, and didn’t respond at first. But once it dawned on you what was happening you quickly moved your face away from his. You felt his hands on your waist tighten.
“Please don’t ever do that again.”
You looked up at the mirror, wanting to see his reaction. He was looking you dead in the eye, with anger written all over his face. He leaned down to kiss your bare shoulder, still maintaining eye contact. Before he deeply whispered.
“I’ll do whatever I want with my ballerinas.”
His hand moved up to your face as he turned to kiss you yet again. You pushed him away, and tried to make a run for it. But he snaked his arm around your chest.
“Let me go!”
You struggled against him, now scared of what would happen if you didn’t get away. Your fight or flight instinct kicked in and you elbowed him as hard as you could in his side. His hand loosened and you ran. But not quick enough. He grabbed you by your arm and threw you into the big mirror. It was pure luck that it didn’t shatter. His body locked you in.
“Hush, I won’t hurt you.”
He said, and for a second you stopped fighting. You were out of breath, but still managed to give him a death glare.
“Let me go!”
You tried once again. He shook his head.
“Do you think I just give away free lessons? Don’t you think you need to repay me?”
You felt something hard against your abdomen. You wanted to cry, you didn’t know what to do. His face shifted once he saw your eyes watering.
“No, no. I’m not a rapist, y/n! God no. But if you want to be my prima ballerina. You have to get your priorities straight.”
You clung onto the little bit of relief you felt from his words.
“I’ve tried my best to stay away, y/n. I really have. But there’s just something about you.”
You felt his hips grind against yours.
“You make me fucking crazy. I can’t wait any longer. I need you.”
He let out a small moan at the friction. A tear fell down your face.
“Please, Mr. Park. Let me go.”
You sobbed. He hushed you again.
“I’ll let you go. Just listen to me.”
You took a deep breath, collecting yourself as much as you could.
“By next Thursday I want an answer. Either you show up or you don’t. Don’t be late.”
He pushed himself off the wall and gave you one last look before slowly walking out the studio. Leaving you alone in the big dance room. What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?
“I don’t know what to do, Maria. This is like a fucking nightmare!”
You said sobbing onto Marias lap as she comforted you. You called her the minute you got home, knowing that she already knew most of the backstory. She immediately came over to your place, wanting to be there for you in a situation like this. You were forever great full for having a friend like her.
“You have to report this. Surely the police could do something about him.”
She said in a calm voice, stroking your hair lightly. You sat up in your bed, wiping your tears away from your swollen face.
“Would they though?”
You asked defeated. Mr. Park was a rich and famous man. You wanted to believe Marias theory, but the hard sad truth was that you didn’t stand a chance against him. Especially with no proof.
“Either I don’t show up and give up my career or-“
You paused, collecting your thoughts.
“Or you give that bastard what he wants.”
Maria finished for you. Knowing exactly what you were thinking.
“Look, being Jimin Parks prima ballerina is huge. It really is, but- I don’t know, is it really worth it? Is it really worth loosing your dignity for a life of fame?”
She asked you with a worried face. You blinked away your tears, not wanting to cry anymore.
“What else would I do? I’ve been dancing my entire life, everything I’ve ever done has lead up to this moment. I can’t-“
You shook your head, not letting the emotions take control over you again.
“I have to show up, I have to talk some sense into him. I can’t give up now. I just can’t.”
You looked down at your hands in your lap as you felt a comforting hand on your shoulder.
“You could go to college, get a degree, get a nine to five. Anything but this, please I can’t watch you go through with this. It’s not safe to see him again.”
You looked up at her again.
“And be a complete failure? Not only to my parents, to you, to the company, but also to myself. This is all I’ve ever dreamed of, Maria.”
“You won’t be a failure! You’re an amazing dancer, you have real talent. But it’s not worth it.”
You shook your head. You had already made up your mind.
“I’m sorry.”
You mumbled. Maria sighed and got up from the bed.
“You do you, girl. But you better not call me crying next Thursday. I won’t feel bad for you.”
She said before walking out your room. You were alone with this now. But like you told her, you couldn’t give up on your dream. No matter the cost.
Thursday. You were sweating. A lump had formed itself inside your stomach, and it was impossible to to ignore it. You took what felt like your last breath before you opened the door to the studio. He stood in the other end, hands crossed over his chest, with a smirk plastered on his lips.
“You’re late.”
His voice rang through the big room, leaving an echo. You stepped into the room, the door shutting behind you. Another echo filling the otherwise dead silent room. You didn’t walk towards him, you stayed by the door. The silence making the lump in your stomach grow even larger.
“What are you doing?”
He asked, still with a slight smirk.
“Come here, we have dancing to do.”
You didn’t know what to do. Your entire body was screaming for you to run out the door and never look back. But your brain didn’t let you move.
“Come over here, y/n. Right now!”
He said in a strict tone, once you didn’t listen. Your own feet moved against your own will, as you slowly started moving forward. You put your bag down on your way.
“Good girl.”
He said, barely audible. But you heard it. All your senses were sharpened. He watched you like a predator, as you can closer and closer. You stopped at a reasonable distance. Close enough to have a conversation with him, but still just out of reach.
“Why so gloomy? You’ve made the biggest decision in your life, baby.”
He stepped closer to you. Every single muscle in your body tensed as his hand met your face in a loving embrace.
“I’m going to make you a star.”
He whispered. You shook your head.
“I don’t want to have sex with you, Mr. Park.”
His smile faded at your words. You straightened your back, trying your best to seem confident and not afraid of the man standing in front of you.
“This is all I’ve ever dreamt of. It’s all I’ve ever worked for. But I refuse to think that this is the only way I can get what I want.”
You said as you tried to conceal the shaky breath escaping your mouth.
“Please, I don’t want to sleep my way to fame. I want to earn it. So tell me, do you see a true and genuine prima ballerina in me. Or am I just a piece of meat?”
He looked at you directly in your eyes. You didn’t break eye contact. You were not giving up, not yet. He broke out in laughter after a few seconds of staring into your soul.
“Oh, y/n. Please.”
He continued laughing, as if this whole thing was a joke. You stayed as serious as ever.
“This is what I like about you. You’re so stubborn, so strong. You don’t see that often around here.”
He turned serious in a split second.
“Why would I be lying to you? Huh? I can sleep with whoever I want. If I wanted just a one night stand I’d pick one of the other girls. Someone easier to manipulate.”
His hand slid around your waist, pulling you close to him.
“I’m a man of my word, y/n. I see potential in you, I wouldn’t just say that to anyone.”
His eyes flickered down to your lips. You instinctively turned your head away, opting to looking at the two of you in the mirror. He looked back at you in the reflection.
“I see my next prima ballerina.”
He said and pointed at the mirror.
“You’re not just beautiful and talented, you have a strong mind. You’re perfect.”
You sighed, looking back at him.
“Why would you waste it all?”
He asked and softly caressed your chin. Your gaze flicked down, wanting to look anywhere but him. He was right, why would you waste the opportunity to have everything you’ve ever wanted?
“It’s honestly a package deal. You get fame and fortune, and good sex. I don’t see what the problem is honestly.”
You looked back up at him again. Trying to conceal the ick you just got.
“Fine. I’ll do it.”
His face turned into a devilish grin.
“Join me in my office.”
He hastily got rid of your bollero, throwing it onto the floor. The second you stepped into his office his lips were on yours. Your fate was sealed, there was no return now. He grabbed at your hips harshly, digging his fingers into you with desperation and lust. He lifted you up, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. He walked over to his desk, leaving your lips for a moment to push whatever was on it onto the floor. It all hit the floor and made a loud crashing noise. He placed you onto the desk, continuing his heated attack of your lips.
“I’ve been waiting for this for so long, baby.”
He said in between kisses. Working on your wrap around skirt and tights. You lifted yourself off the desk so he could slide your garments off. Leaving you in your underwear and tank top.
“You have no idea how crazy you’ve made me. How many sins I’ve done in your favour.”
His lips crashed back onto yours. You started thinking of your career as you heard him removing his belt. Preparing yourself for what was to come. He pushed your upper body down onto the desk, making your head dip over the edge of the desk. You looked at his office upside down, staring at the expensive painting hanging on the wall. You felt him sliding your underwear to the side.
“What a pretty pussy you have, baby.”
He said before sliding himself into you, making you moan as you felt yourself being filled up.
“Better than I ever imagined.”
He groaned as he started to slowly move. You continued to look at the painting of the ballerina with a bouquet in her hands bowing down in a gracious pose. Your hands found his forearms, digging your nails into his skin. Your breath got heavy as you felt his speed increase.
But still you focused on the ballerina. You imagined it was you. Maybe that would be you after this. Bowing deeply to the applause of hundreds, maybe even thousands of people in the audience. They all applauding you. You moaned loudly once he hit a good spot.
“You like that? You want it, huh?”
“Yes.”
You said in a shaky voice. You wanted this, you wanted this more than anything. This was all worth it in the end. You would be a star, a prima ballerina. Someone little girls looked up to, and adults wanted to be. You would be like that ballerina in the painting. Gracious and beautiful in every way. Everything you ever aspired to be. Everything you were meant to be.
“God, I’m gonna-“
You belonged here. On that desk. In that studio. Alone on a stage, bowing to the audience after the greatest performance of their lives. You were Mr. Park’s new prima ballerina.
——————————————————————————
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sanspuppet · 7 months
Note
👀 riding Mingi’s abs…..just saw a that photo shoot whit him in all denim, like the shirt is a denim crop and and bestie 😮‍💨😮‍💨 that would be the best funishment
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MDNI ! smut
- W/T: sexual tension, abs riding, choking, fingering, squirting, sliiight degradation
You couldn’t fucking take no more. You wanted to enjoy your date with your boyfriend that day, but you had no idea he would wear a denim crop, that did nothing but accentuate his waist, so tiny and sexy, not to mention how his abs were exposed. Mingi couldn’t have not noticed that you didn’t even looked up at him when he talked to you, your eyes seemed glued to his waist, yet he was somehow enjoying your drooling reaction. It was a long evening of you getting distracted by his hips that you needed so bad beneath you. On the other hand Mingi did nothing but secretly smirking back at you, feeling your eyes constantly down his lower body. But at the end he proposed you to spend the rest of the evening by his house, god only knows what were his purposes… well somehow you could figure them out too, and by your situation in that moment you hoped with all your heart that you weren’t wrong. In fact, you wanted to fuck him so bad, so bad that you were feeling icky about how fucking wet you were, you just wanted to take care of it by using him, or vice versa, you literally didn’t fucking care about the details. Mingi noticed it, he knew every time when you got needy but damn… you literally looked like a bitch in heat from how you were clinging to him and how you stared at him, your entire behavior screamed that you wanted to be bred badly.
When he first stepped into his house he turned around to face you, holding you by your waist as he pulled you over the living room. Mingi looked down at your short figure compared to his tall one, a smirk forming on his lips. “Will you tell me what got your attention that much, pretty?” his nose brushed yours, ready to lock you in a long kiss. You wanted him now, there was no point in teasing each other any longer, you wrapped your hand behind his neck and pulled him closer, your tongues diving into your mouths while he busied himself with unbuttoning your shirt, his movements were messy, too eager to be done properly. You did the same thing with his denim crop, throwing it somewhere on the floor. You pulled away from your sloppy kiss and placed your palm on his naked chest, his heartbeat was faster than ever. You pushed him, making him fall down on the couch, he looked up at you with hooded eyes. His tongue trailed a wet line over his lips. You both stripped down completely, never breaking eye contact.
He patted his lap, moving you to sit on him. You glanced at his huge cock twitching at his movement. You sat down on his abdomen, his erected crotch pressing against your back sent shivers of arousal down your spine. “Ride my abs baby, i’m sure you’d want to” He took your chin in his fingers, forcing you to look at him. “Say it, am i right?” You automatically started rubbing yourself against his toned pelvis, his hand quickly gripped on your waist. “Fuckin say it before doing it, little slut” You sighed frustratingly. “Fuck— please Mingi i wanna ride your abs” He pinched your cheek, his cocky behavior showing. “That’s my good girl, you can go on now.” You let out the most feral sighs and loud moans once you started moving, forwards and backwards. You felt every little hill of his abs stimulating your clit, it was impressively good, a fucking bliss. You just needed more friction but your mind was already in a blank state, you threw your head back as you moved faster, your nails dig deep into Mingi’s shoulders. He was admiring you, every single detail of you, he noticed it, and loved it. Jeez if you were such a piece of art to him in that moment. “Don’t worry princess, i’ll help you” he said when he noticed you struggling to get to the highest. He quickly wrapped a hand around your throat, gripping tightly enough, the other one moved down your core, fingering you with all of his fingertips at a fast pace. He raised your head when you kept looking down at you wet cunt. “Eyes on me pretty, you know i want you to look at me whenever you cum. Feels good huh? You such a slut, getting off to my abs”
It was then that you loosed your fucking mind, you were fucked out, your mascara was smudged all over your eyelids by your teary eyes. You whined and moaned without even realizing it. Your lips were of a cherry pink from how hard you bit on them. Your hair a complete mess. And it also was when you finally got off of your high that you noticed you squirted all over his chest. Mingi was looking at all your figure with a proud smirk, his finger caressed gently your back.
“You’re the prettiest like this”
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taglist: @bunnyluvr25 @xonga @bro-atz @wisejudgedragonhairdo @therealcuppicake @hongjoongswifefr @sugarnspice630 @stolasisyourparent @kaimisutra @jyunhosbby @pancake-freckle @cherrycel
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HIS GIRL - PART 1
Summary: You were always Topper’s girl—until Rafe decided you were no longer his.
Paring: Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader
Strictly 18+ No Minors to Interact
Warnings: Dark!Rafe, Rafe/Reader, Topper/Reader, Dub-Con/Non-Con, Coercive Behaviour, Fingering, Oral (w receiving) Drinking, Graphic Scenes / Smut.  
Author's Note: Hi my loves. I'm alive!! Trying to survive. The year has been a tough one but wanted to tell you all I love you. Wasn't feeling motivated and then suddenly inspiration struck and I've been writing this dark/rafe fic on and off for months but then when it came time to post it was too long to do as a one shot so I'll release it slowly over the next couple of days as short parts. Part 2 will hopefully be up tomorrow. Love you guys and I hope everyone is well ❤️
Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Please don’t steal or copy bits of my writing or any writing from other writers cause karma will get ya.
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“You wouldn't believe how happy she makes me,” Topper says, leaning back against the porch railing overlooking Tannyhill. His voice is thick with that syrupy sweetness that makes Rafe want to shove him clean off it.
Rafe leans against the opposite post, staring into the darkness. The summer air is suffocating, clinging to him, weighing him down, but not half as much as Topper’s words. He can’t stand the way Topper talks about you. His girl. Always his girl. Like he owns you, like he can hold your happiness in the palm of his hand and keep it there.
“She’s different, you know?” Topper keeps going, like he’s trying to sell you to him, as if Rafe hasn’t already memorized every detail, every curve of your lips, the way your eyes light up when you laugh or the soft timbre of your voice.
“She’s perfect, always so positive.. Like she literally sees the brighter side of life and the good in everyone. Sometimes... sometimes I feel like I don't deserve her, ya know? Like she can do so much better and yet somehow- she's picked me... I dunno it makes me want to do better. She makes me wanna be a better guy for her...”
Rafe's mouth curls into something that could be a smile but feels more like a scowl. He scratches his forehead.
“A better guy, huh? Jesus—Top, do you even hear yourself? You haven't even fucked her yet, and you're already actin' like a sap.”
It’s easier to mock, easier to keep up the front than to let anyone see how it really feels. How every time you laugh at one of Topper’s stupid jokes, it feels like a punch to Rafe's gut, a reminder that you’re still not his.
Topper doesn’t notice. He never does. Just keeps grinning like an idiot, like he’s won the fucking lottery.
“Can you just shut-up and be happy for me, man? Just this once? Look, it doesn't matter anyway. Cause it's time. Me and her are going to take our relationship to the next level.”
The words hit Rafe harder than they should, his fingers flexing, gripping the edge of the porch railing until his knuckles turn white. He doesn’t say anything at first, just feels his chest tighten, feels the familiar burn of jealousy flare up like a live wire. Because all he can think about is you, Topper’s hands on you, Topper fucking you, and it makes him want to break something, anything.
He forces himself to speak, keeping his voice steady, casual, like he’s just shooting the shit.
“The next level, huh? With little Miss Sunshine?” His smile is a thin, cruel line. “Thought you said you two were taking it slow, isn't she the type to wait for marriage or some shit."
Topper laughs, an easy sound that grates against Rafe’s nerves. “She’s not a virgin Rafe, she’s been with other guys before.  We’re just you know, trying to get to know each other first.  That's what I love about her. She wasn't going to just sleep with me after a couple of dates.  I had to prove myself to her and now it feels… it feels right. It’s the next logical step and I know she feels the same….” He says it like it’s so obvious, like he’s stating a fact, and Rafe’s skin prickles with a heat that has nothing to do with the summer night.
And there it is. The image that really makes Rafe's blood run cold: you, too sweet and naive, believing in something as stupid as love, and Topper, ready to ruin it with his clumsy hands and superficial feelings. This is the same guy who was pining after Rafe’s sister claiming to be in love with her only to have suddenly found you “the one” and had fallen head over heels in the span of a a few weeks.
No. That can't happen. Not like that. Not with you. Not when Rafe is the one who really cares about you. Had feelings for you longer than he’d dared to admit. Way longer before Topper swooped in and put a claim to you.
Rafe swallows hard as a new plan slowly takes shape in the dark recesses of his mind. If Topper wants to take things to the next level, fine. But it won't be with you. Not if Rafe has anything to say about it. He’ll get to you first. He’ll be the one you remember, the one who shows you something real, something raw. Because you deserve better than Topper. Or maybe, you deserve someone who isn't afraid to give you everything—the good, the bad, and the ugly. Someone like him.
Rafe smirks, letting his eyes slide over to Topper, keeping his tone light, almost teasing. “Yeah, well, good luck with that. You're gonna need it...”
Because he’s already decided. This isn’t over. Far from it. He’s going to make sure you know exactly what you’re missing before you ever let Topper Thornton fuck you. He’ll find a way. He always does.
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The music pulses through the house like a living thing, the bass vibrating in Rafe’s bones as he moves through the crowd. Bodies sway, drunk on cheap beer and the promise of a good time. Laughter spills into the air, mingling with the scent of sweat and weed, but Rafe has only one thing on his mind tonight: you.
He spots you almost immediately. You’re standing in the kitchen, a red Solo cup in your hand, laughing at something Topper is saying. Topper’s arm is draped around your waist, and Rafe feels a familiar flicker of irritation—a heat that curls in his chest like a slow-burning fire.
He watches the way you tilt your head back, your eyes bright with amusement, looking at the blond idiot like he'd hung the moon and it takes everything in Rafe not to walk over and tear Topper’s hands off you.
Instead, he waits, watching, calculating.
Topper leans in close, murmuring something in your ear, and you giggle, playfully swatting at his arms, your fingers drawing circles on Toppers' wrist. Rafe’s jaw tightens. He needs an opening, a chance to get you alone, and then he sees it—a flash of movement as Topper's phone buzzes in his pocket. Topper pulls it out, glances at the screen, and Rafe catches the brief look of annoyance that flits across his face. Perfect.
Topper leans down to you, his voice barely audible over the music. “Hey, babe, I’ve got to take this. It’s my dad. I’ll be back in a few, okay?” He kisses you on the forehead, and you nod, giving him that same sweet, innocent smile that makes Rafe’s stomach twist in knots.
As Topper slips away into the crowd, Rafe moves. He slides up next to you, a casual, easy grin on his lips, as if he just happened to be in the right place at the right time.
“Hey,” he says, his voice just loud enough to be heard over the music. “Topper leave you all alone?”
You look up, surprised but not unhappy to see him. That’s good—he can work with that. He's worked with less.
“Yeah, he had to take a phone call,” you said with a small smile. That smile. It's cute. You're cute. So fucking cute that Rafe’s mind spirals into the gutter. He wonders what you’d look like if he wiped that smile right off your face, watch your face contort with ecstasy—what sounds you’d make if he were to shove his cock down your throat. He 's sure you'd look just as cute all teary eyed and drooling.
Rafe leans against the counter, close enough that his arm brushes yours, but he doesn’t miss the way you pull back slightly. It’s subtle, not rude, but clearly setting boundaries. That’s fine. He'll enjoy tearing those boundaries down.
“He always gets those calls at the worst times, doesn’t he?” he says, keeping his tone light, but he knows exactly what he’s doing. Planting the seed. Making you think.
“I guess.” You laugh, a little uncertain, and Rafe knows he’s got you hooked, just a little. “But to be honest, I don’t mind. His dad’s helping him prep for an interview he has next week..”
“Oh—is that who he said was on the phone? His dad?” He lets the words hang in the air, just enough to make you wonder, to make you question.
You frown, just a flicker, but he sees it. “Well, yeah... who else would it be?”
Rafe shrugs, as if he hadn’t meant to say anything at all. “Oh, nothing. It’s just... Topper talks a lot. To a lot of people. Friends... Other girls... It's probably harmless, but, you know... people talk...” He flashes you a quick smile, a little sheepish, like he’s just looking out for you. "People talk..."
Your brow furrows, confusion and a hint of worry crossing your face. “What other girls?”
He waves a hand dismissively, playing it off. “It’s probably nothing. I shouldn’t have said anything. Just... you know how it is around here. People love to gossip; it’s mostly hearsay anyway.” But he knows he’s hit a nerve. He sees the doubt flickering in your eyes, the way you bite your lower lip as if you're turning over his words in your mind.
Before you can ask anything else, he changes the subject, shifting the focus.
“Hey, forget about it. Let me get you a drink. You look like you could use something stronger.” He reaches for a bottle on the counter, pouring two shots of something clear and potent, handing one to you with a grin. “Topper will just have to catch up when he gets back.”
You hesitate, just for a moment, but then you take the glass, smiling back at him. “Okay, okay” you say, clinking your glass against his.
The first shot goes down easy, the warmth spreading through your chest, and Rafe watches you closely, a satisfied smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
“Another?” he asks, already reaching for the bottle, not giving you time to think or say no. You nod, a little more eagerly this time, and he pours again, his movements smooth, practiced.
One drink becomes two, then three. Rafe keeps them coming, always ready with another pour, keeping your glass filled, keeping the conversation light and funny, distracting you from the fact that he'd only had one to your three. Distracting you from the way your head begins to feel pleasantly fuzzy. He’s careful, calculating, making sure you don’t notice how he’s watching you, gauging just how tipsy you’re getting.
By the time the third shot is gone, you’re giggling, swaying just slightly where you stand. A fucking lightweight if he’d ever seen one. Your cheeks are flushed, your eyes a little glassy, and Rafe knows he’s got you right where he wants you. He moves closer, his shoulder pressing lightly against yours, his voice dropping to a softer, more intimate tone.
“Hey, let’s get out of here for a bit. It’s too crowded, and you look like you could use some fresh air. What do you think?” He says it so smoothly, so surely, that you don’t realize the kitchen is already empty.
You blink, a little slow, unsure, but then you nod, laughing softly. “Yeah… maybe… for a few minutes...” Your words slur just a bit, but you don’t notice, don’t seem to care. You’re too wrapped up in the haze and the banter you're sharing.
He reaches out, fingers brushing lightly against your wrist, a touch that lingers, and this time, you don’t pull away. “Come on,” he urges, his voice low and coaxing. “Just for a bit. I promise it’ll be worth it.”
You nod again, and he leads you outside, into the cool night air, away from the party. He knows he's in dangerous territory, anyone can see you leaving with him but he doesn’t care. He’s too far gone. Drunk on the idea of having you all to himself, away from the lights, away from Topper, where it’s just you and him and the night.
And as he guides you down the porch steps, he knows he’s one step closer to what he wants. One step closer to having you, in whatever way he can. One step closer to making sure you’d never look at Topper the same way again.
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PART 2 / STORY MASTERLIST
Thanks for reading x If you enjoyed it please like / reblog / comment as I would love to know what you think. Part 2 will be up tomorrow but in the meantime lots of love ❤️
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anadiasmount · 8 months
Note
just a small blurb, y/n tries the pheromone perfume and tried to leave the house, but jude won’t let her
IVE SEEN THIS PERFUME GO VIRAL ON TIKTOK!!! 🤭 i didnt proofread so hope it isn’t to bad 😵‍💫
like always, you made plans last minute with girls to go out for dinner and drinks. you weren’t in that much of a mood to go out because you felt the need to stay home and be warm bc of the cold weather. but you also knew you had not seen them in so long and a night out was what you deserved together.
you quickly turned on your getting ready playlist and go ready. you didn’t know whether it was bc it was last minute but as soon as you saw your hair and makeup eating, it was go time. nothing had creased or spread and your blowout just looked so professionally done you felt a bubble of excitement grow in your tummy.
“babe a package came!” jude screamed out running to the room and placing it on your vanity, quickly placing a kiss on your shoulder then running back out to play video games. you opened it quickly, more excitement running through your veins as you saw the viral PH perfume come into view.
it didn’t smell like anything to you, shrugging and putting it on the side as you finished small details, brushing away any extra powder, applying lip gloss and making sure no flyaways were seen. you dressed quickly and placed some jewelry to finish the look. you decided to try the perfume quickly spritzing it on your neck, wrists and and chest, rubbing so the scent would last longer.
jude was in the living room playing whatever video game he was, talking loudly over the headset. he wore a black tight compression shirt and some grey sweats, leaning back on the chair as he stared into the monitor. you grab your boots and zip them up, walking over to where jude was.
“i’m leaving, babe! i’ll be home early so we can watch money heist again,” you say kissing his cheek and walking away. “okay baby-” jude cut himself off, smelling the air, a sweet and flowery scent overtaking his senses. he was drawn to it, like a spell that would be impossible to overturn. he looked over to you, following the scent that lingered in the air.
not only was he drawn by the perfume but also how gorgeous you looked to be going out. you turned around startled when you saw jude facing you with a frown. “come here,” he said motioning with his finger to come closer. you furrowed your brows in confusion but doing as he said.
he leaned down to smell your neck, feeling the tip of his nose brush against your sweet spot making you giggle and push him away. “jude stop! what happened?” you ask with a smile, still slightly confused why he was frowning. “babe, you smell so good. is that a new perfume?” jude asks, grabbing your wrist to smell it.
“yes, that was the package that came in”.
jude couldn’t tell why, but this perfume was different from the other ones you owned. he could smell it from miles away, it smelled rich and heavenly, going perfectly with you and your scent. this perfume didn’t make him feel dizzy or anything that he couldn’t tolerate, it smelled made just for you and only you.
“do you like it? apparently it supposed to fit with your body’s ph. honestly i couldn’t really smell it so i don’t how to take your reaction as a compliment or if i should go take a shower…” you joke, seeing his eyes soften and walk to you. “it smells so good, like really really good y/n… are you really gonna go out?” he muffled hands going around your waist stopping you from going anywhere.
jude didn’t want anyone else smelling you like this. a rush of jealousy waving over him at any man approaching you and complimenting you bc of the scent. if he liked it he knew other people would too. which is why he was making any excuses for you not to go. “sorry jude but i promised i’d go,” you try to let go of his grip but he only pulled you closer.
“you’re not going. not when you smell this good. i don’t want any men falling in love with you because of it,” jude states his ground, watching your eyebrows twist in a “are you serious way?”. “jude it’s just the girls and i, im going and that’s final,” you scoff.
“no you’re not. you’re staying here with me watching money heist like you said. tell the girls to come here,” jude suggested making you laugh. “jude it’s just a perfume,” you say watching his eyes go crazy as he sees you twisting the knob. “uh where are you going?”
“to dinner! why are you being so weird,” you said, stopping your movements, feeling goosebumps as you felt the cold air from outside. “because that perfume will drive others crazy and they will come talk to you,” jude says walking over to shut the door and put his back against it making you laugh again. “you’re not serious right?”
“just stay here with me? it’s cold and you can get sick…”
“i wish i could believe i wish i could, but i haven’t seen them in so long. plus i didn’t get ready for nothing,” you say walking over to him and tip toeing to reach his height. “i’ll come back straight home to my sexy bf who’ll be waiting for me,” you say kissing his lips lovingly.
“yeah there’s no way you’re going now, and leaving me like this, princess.”
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shiftertech · 8 months
Text
"Can I tell you something?"
The girl sat by the campfire, lazily stoking it with a stick doesn't remove her gaze from the licks of flame. "Depends. Are you going to give me an explanation as to why we're here?"
"I—," you sputter out the short noise before clamping your mouth shut. It'd be better if you showed her. She pokes at the crumbling logs again, a dance of embers bursting upwards in drifting spirals.
"Because I know we're not here just to camp," she continues, eyes tracking upwards with the glowing specks. "You've been anxious as fuck since we arrived. I have eyes. Your fingernails look like shit with all that biting." Ah, fuck.
"W-well, it's something you should really know about me." You shuffle between the fire and the foldable chair placed beside it, eyes stinging as you catch a face full of smoke on your way to her side. You take a knee on ashy soil, still slightly damp from showers the prior day, and steady yourself with your hands.
She doesn't look at you. You dig your fingers into the dirt.
"You know what I've been thinking this is," she finally asks after a prolonged moment.
"What, hun?"
"The moment since we've got here, I've been thinking, 'This is it. This is the part where he breaks up with me.' I been thinking this is your intricate, fucked up way of separating." She waves her free hand in the air, continuing, "And how would I know! I can barely tell what's on your mind most of the time!"
That's not what this is. Not at all. Your heart breaks to even comprehend she's felt like this.
Perhaps it shows on your face because she gives you a peculiar side-glance, eyes glinting with curiosity.
"No!" You reach for her but she flinches, your hand halting in place mid-reach, going slightly limp. Softer, "no, that's not it. Why would I—"
"You're a mirror."
The first time she says it, it sounds like a profound realization.
Silence. The crackle of fire, the chirping of night critters, the cacophony hiss of wind swept tree branches, gone. She sits there, an infinite stare piercing the flames once more.
"What?"
"A mirror. You take on the mannerisms, the patterns, the emotions that others show you, and give it right back." She hangs her head low to the dirt as if she's espousing some fatal truth. "It makes you so easy to love but impossible to know.
"Because, love? Your mirror is cracked. I've known you long enough to tell it isn't you.
"And that was okay for a while. It was so simple to be with you... until the past month.
"You've grown distant and quiet, and I'm worried that you've been a mirror for so long that you haven't noticed your cracks were growing to the point of you being unable to reflect me anymore.
"I'd like to know what lies behind the broken shards but...
Is there anything even there?
Her head turns to you, golden fire-lit eyes landing on your face. You can see your perfectly blank face reflected in them. Hairline cracks decorate your face in an intricate web, crumbling shards falling from your glassy cheeks.
Your hands find their way to your face, fingers landing on the smooth surface with a hard clink. More cracks form at the points of contact, branching to other splits in the material of your smooth skin and knocking more shards loose.
The dirt beneath you is littered with ash and glass. Pieces of you, sharp and fractured, sunken into the earth. Your glass fingers try to pluck the shards out of the ground but only manage to break them further, chipping away at intricately painted details of soft skin and nails bitten away to the false skin. Soon your struggling to bend your fingers at all, stiff as can be in a straightforward posture.
Soft, fleshy fingers gently grab your flaking chin. She turns your emotionless face towards her. Her eyes glow brighter, no longer permitting reflection.
"I'm sorry." A hand is placed upon your chest, just over your heart. "It's too late to go back, you already saw it..."
Another hand combs through the thin glass hairs on your head, shearing them off as she goes. A soft smile tugs at her lips as she says, "but it'll be okay. I've been here before too you know."
She pushes with an inhuman force upon your chest...
And your glass shell shatters.
Emptiness prevails in the sensation of your chest, a million shards falling inwards and disappearing into your void. The gaping hole spreads further as your internal gravity wins over the failing integrity of your body.
Before you, a known but undefined entity kneels onto the dirt with you, in a body of its own design. Her perfectly crafted hands place themselves upon your cracked thighs, thumbs gently tracing circles over the smooth surface. She leans forward, lips next to your broken left ear, its top half snapped off. She speaks in a voice she spent much time perfecting.
"It's almost done, sweetest. Just know I'll love you, whatever you decide to be without your shell. I'll be by your side."
With a quick movement, she shifts all of her immense, impossible weight into the hands on your thighs. They shatter instantly, and take the lower legs and feet folded beneath with them, shards falling upwards into your core. All that remains of you after a few moments is a wispy void. And then...
"Oh. Gorgeous."
An ember from the campfire strays from its upwards path, drifting towards the void of you.
And then another.
And another.
Unlike your shattered shell, these embers do not flicker out of existence in your gravity well. Instead, they begin to wrap around your core in a tight orbit.
The campfire dims as the void of you draws out bursting flecks of glowing carbon, drawing more and more into your orbit, until you are just a sphere of spinning ember light. A sparking fire ball of potential.
Potential. You can feel liquid potential circling around you, currently formless. Potential you can control, shape and mold into whatever the void of you desires. You're not sure what to make of it.
"Whatever you want. This is for no one else but you. Don't hold back," your loving entity replies to your wordless question.
You begin with a small movement. An arc of flame goes wide of the sphere before falling back into the fold. Okay. Maybe you can put more strength behind it.
A minor explosion is the result of that effort, as you learn the extent of your shaping strength. The entity leaps back, a few nasty embers leaving burns across her skin, which are quickly overtaken by a golden glow from inside that fades back into unblemished epidermis. You feel larger, embers leaping off of molten liquid hissing and bubbling in the brisk air.
"Okay, now shape it!"
For lack of a better template at the moment, you try to form the liquid with invisible hands into curves just like the contours of her body. The torso comes into definition, followed by limbs shooting out, and finally a head filling out a rather obvious replication of her, made of the caustic liquid. Your molten feet touch the ground, boiling the water trapped in the soil beneath into steam.
A bubbly laugh comes from her. You look up from your glowing body to see her head thrown back. She's actually crying of laughter, what the hell? She said anything!
You place liquid hands upon your liquid hips, annoyed at the obvious judgement of your choice of form, which only serves to make her double over again.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, it's just..." she pauses to wipe a tear from her eye. "I should have expected you'd try to be me first! Shattered one mirror for another, eh?"
Another bout of laughter. You'd consider her an ass if it wasn't so cute. Well, no, she is an ass, but a cute one at least. This sudden flow of emotion-laden thought comes with new curiosities.
You look down at your body once again, and decide you like its curves, but start to make simple alterations. Simple begins with changing your height, material expanding with a deep thrum and burst of heat until you're towering over her.
"Wow, that's like, a lot more than professional athlete height!" The comment wavers in tone, as if the size is affecting her. You lean in close and her face turns red—and not just from the orange glow of your molten body.
Having had your fun with height, you shrink back with a sharp hiss of escaping pressure and heat, much to her apparent disappointment. There are other things you try, like proportions and weight, but some things stay the same, like having breasts, which feel so right it feels wrong. You make this form your own.
It's pretty clear that you've settled on a feminine body, which makes so much sense to a certain part of you. You are a bit tired of being a humanoid light bulb though.
"We can work on that now. Imagine what you want to be made of, and reach for it."
The lava that makes you starts to cool off, flickering light ebbing away to dark basalt. You feel it crack and reform as you bend your arm at the elbow. A new idea strikes you, and before long, the rock crumbles away all across your body as if it were just a thin crust, revealing a shiny metal skin beneath. Neat.
After definitely not an abundance of playing around with this (you really liked being a sentient humanoid water thing, that was cool), you returned to what you knew best, with human skin and hair.
You test your voice for the first time, a feminine lilt, saying, "what happens now? Once I find what I want to be, will I be stuck like that forever?" The lightness of your tone gives you a fluttery feeling in your chest.
Her hands find her way onto your hips as she pulls you close. "That's the best part. What we want to be isn't a static thing," she says. "As we grow, as we learn, as we experience, what we want to he changes. You and I are gifted with the knowledge that we are malleable things. Entities of change. One's who can embrace it with no restriction."
You look at your hand, you shape it. Scales chase up the wrist and previously bitten down nails slide out into avian talons. You flip it over, and in the midst of the motion consider another form. Tufts of fur burst from the gaps between scales, and leathery pads swell upon your fingers and palms. The talons shrink back into canine claws, that you could easily imagine digging into the dirt to pull you into a sprint.
You let it return to a human shape as you look back at her, emotions overwhelming you.
"I had something I wanted to tell you," you say, tears pooling in your eyes. She tips her head forward, your foreheads touching. "I think... I'm a girl..."
"I know, baby. I know you are."
She wraps you in her arms as you let it all out, sobbing into her neck. She doesn't let you go even as the campfire simmers and cracks, no more flames licking up into the sky. She doesn't let you go as the night critters resume their chirping. She doesn't let you go as the wind swept trees bristle under the growing light of dawn.
Not even as you both let sleep take you, no more mirrors and broken shells keeping you apart.
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idyllcy · 2 months
Text
i'd stay, cancel my flights, change everything just to be in your life
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word count: 11.3k
summary: parallel lines holding hands, side by side til the end of time
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"You're leaving?" You raise a brow, watching as Leon, sweet 21-year-old Leon, pulls his suitcases to the door with all the boxes of his things.
"I have to." He frowns. "You won't move to Raccoon with me, and it's—"
"Landlines cost a fortune to use. I know." You close your eyes. "Will you write to me?"
"I can try." He doesn't dare to look you in the eye. You know he doesn't want to leave. He knows he shouldn't just break up with you like this. Is this the end of your relationship? All because the two of you refuse to do things to stay together? Is this selfishness... or is it something else? Did Leon ever really truly love you?
"Trying is too much. If we're truly meant to be, may we cross paths in the future once more." You hum. "I'll help you move the boxes."
"Will you visit?"
"Depends if you invite me." You crack only the lightest of jokes, boxes put into the back of his car as he closes the trunk with a thud, fiddling with his fingers as he looks at you.
"I guess this is goodbye?"
"May our paths cross again." You hold your hand out, and Leon pulls you in instead, arms wrapped around your waist as he squeezes, heart racing painfully against his chest.
He doesn't like that he has to make this decision.
"I'll see you again, I promise." He mumbles.
You watch Leon Kennedy drive into the sunset, stuck staring from your place in the suburbs as his car eventually loses itself in the light. You wonder if that is a sign of something. Is it possible to blind yourself from the light? Is it dooming to force oneself into the sun? May his wings not burn off, you decide. No matter how far, you hope that he will be kept safe. That is all that matters to you. And when he is inevitably too close to the sun one day, may the embrace of the stars catch him and hold him close. The sun is a star, after all.
Yet, the sun gives warmth to life, and when you're stuck staring at the two lines on the test, you think the sun has burned you for getting too close.
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You only ever receive one letter from Leon the entire time the two of you are apart.
Signed two days after his new beginning, delivered five days after the destruction of Raccoon City, you are given all of the details of what had occurred during the time that Leon had been in that place.
Don't come find me, as I no longer hope our paths cross ever again
Heed my words, LSK
You decide to do what Leon knew you did best. The story of Raccoon City is turned into a bestseller, people crowding to read more about what your mind could conjure about the mystery of Raccoon City on the news, desperate to get some sort of twisted release. You do not heed Leon's words. You do not answer to the desperate public. Instead, you disappear after the release of the novel. You're sure that Leon's more than happy to see you disappear from the public as he had instructed you to do so. You would become a thorn in his side— or something. You're not quite sure. Do you care all that much? You wish you could say no. You know nothing more than the fact that Leon survived. However, from the fact that he knew so much, you can only assume that he ended up working somewhere in the twisted political system. Perhaps not politics... perhaps government.
Your daughter is born, a sweet girl that you decide should take your last name instead of his. It is a curse, that last name of his. His sweet girl should not have to deal with everything that comes with being of his blood. Your sweet girl belongs to you rather than to him. She will be raised and loved and cherished until she knows that it is not worth it to throw your life away simply because you have fallen in love with someone. She will be the new light in your life, and you will choose to bring joy to her life to the best of your ability.
When you catch Leon at 27 on the news after saving the president's daughter from Spain, you do not feel anything.
You hope not to feel something. Are you supposed to feel something? Is there anything left to feel for a man who has not been part of your life for over 6 years? It would be pathetic to mourn over what could have been. It is truly not your problem. You do not get the luxury of being in his life anymore. Perhaps, he did not want the luxury of being in yours. "I no longer hope our paths cross ever again." Are you supposed to just move on? Leon, the man that you are.
Your daughter asks you how work was when you pick her up from elementary school, and you tell her that you had caught a government agent returning home after a particularly hard mission. She asks you if you have a story to tell her, so you tell her the story of how you met Leon, his youth and yours entwined as you promised to stay together until the stars in the sky burned out, but you don't tell her that it was her dad. You tell her that it was a story you heard from a friend because you would rather bear the guilt of lying to her than let her know that her parents were cowards — that you were a coward.
At 28, you catch a glance of Leon in the window of a coffee shop in the capital, eyes meeting his for a second before he turns away first and decides that you are not worth the time.
It hurts more than you'd like to admit.
Instead, you continue on your way to your interview, wondering if you should just ditch now that you are aware that your blind guess had been correct. Leon Scott Kennedy was in the capital of the country, and you would be stuck in the vicinity of him at all times if you took the job. Though, you really can't pass up on such good pay. What right do you have to complain if you receive a pay far better than anything else? Who are you in a capitalistic system that will inevitably drive you to ruin one day?
You wonder why there are so many rhetorical questions that spin in your mind.
Yet, you stay in the capital because you know it is better to move on face to face than to mull over the shadow of what it could have been.
What use is a hypothetical in the face of reality?
Besides, it mattered more than you had a child to feed.
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When Leon is 35 (you're still counting), the two of you meet at a press conference. You stare at him and he stares at you, and the two of you exchange a nod before you both go your own ways. You are here to help someone just as he is — only in different ways. Leon is to serve with his body, and you are to serve with your mind. What difference does it make if you both are serving someone in the end? What difference does it make if it's the body or the mind? Can you truly say that the two of you are different at all?
You wonder if Leon is truly healing when he looks so distraught over something. Perhaps he's busy with whatever the government is tasking him with. If he's by the president's side, then surely he's someone of higher ranking now. You think it's been a long time since you've seen his face properly. Age has wrecked through his body, fine lines in the corners of his eyes and lips, facial hair so much more defined than when you had first met him. Time is ticking, yet you are stuck in place.
Your daughter moves quickly, high school starting as she gets to tell everyone that her mom is a major journalist, at the frontier of covering big issues regarding the rumors that spread around. She treats you like her hero, and for the first time in a while, you let out a sigh in relief that makes your whole body relax. It is as if the tension that you would accidentally let the frustration of raising her alone ruin her life has finally been lifted from your shoulders. You will be alright. No matter how much the two of you would fight, you will be fine because you have survived for so long and you will continue to.
At 38, you watch Leon return after a mission abroad with the rest of the press, staring at the bandages on his cheek, watching as he passes you with a glance, movements never stopping once. You are stuck in place, you think. You are moving at the same pace as Leon when you could be running ahead, and it will inevitably come back to destroy you. What use is there in matching someone's pace when they do not think of you? Are you stuck in place? Will you be stuck here forever? You thought moving to the capital could change things, yet you are back where you began.
The world is moving too fast for you to keep up.
At least someone grounds you.
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One day, your flip phone becomes a smartphone, and your cents charged for the landline become a monthly phone plan that you pay at the beginning of the month with your rent and just about everything else. The world is moving on, so why are you stuck in place? Maybe it was you who needed to be caught in the stars and not Leon. Who will catch the moon when it collapses from the sky? What chasing is there if the moon will never see the sun?
What does it take to break a cycle of destruction?
Not much, apparently.
When Leon himself is banging at your door at the crack of midnight, you know better than to open the door, but you do it anyway. If you are to die, then you might as well let it be at his hands.
"I'm sorry." He's gasping for air, on his knees.
Leon Kennedy, a grown man in his forties, kneeling at your open front door.
You wonder if you should just cut it right here.
"Do I—"
"You don't need to." He heaves, breathing heavy as he dares not to look at you. "I'm sorry."
You stare down at him, and you wonder if this is the universe's way of apologizing to you.
"You can crash the couch. If you leave tomorrow morning, then I'll take all of this as a mistake you're making while drunk." You let him in, and you know he'll be gone in the morning.
Leon was not one to go against his own words.
Yet, in the morning, you find yourself staring at Leon as he serves you breakfast, terrified of talking to you or something. It makes you raise a brow, but you thank him as you start on breakfast. He wants to say something. You wonder if he hasn't changed at all since you've last seen him. Maybe somewhere deep down, he's still that rookie who had his first day in a zombie-infested city.
"I really am sorry."
"There's no way you're deciding this now." You don't bother looking at him, sitting down as he hands you a plate of food for breakfast instead. Always an action. Always an act of service in order to remind you that he loves you instead of speaking up. You wonder if you're the one being stubborn in that case. Maybe the reason your relationship went downhill was all because of you. It is always you, you find.
Yet, despite all odds, your daughter is in college now.
"I heard you have a daughter." He laughs dryly, leaning against the kitchen marble as you raise a brow at him.
"Yes. I do."
You stare at Leon as he sucks in a breath, and you refuse to tell him. Even if he asks, you will lie through your teeth to make sure that the wound in your relationship would be severed. You do not understand why he still insists on checking in on you, but as you start eating, you do not complain. If he wishes to drag your severed limbs through the mud, then let him do so. If he would have to exist in your life only to wound you over and over again, then let him do so. If you should exist only to be hurt back because you had hurt him first, then let it be so.
"Is she mine?"
You stare at Leon, and then shake your head.
"Who's the... father?"
"Hookup. I forgot to take the morning after pill." You start at the breakfast, humming quietly as Leon stares at you apprehensively. "You didn't burn the bacon this time."
"That was once." He points.
Yet, you finish the food, watching as Leon still lingers. He stays. You don't know what prompts him to stay, and quite frankly, you're too scared to ask how he managed to get your address, but you keep quiet. You do not want to know. You should not want to know. You aren't someone in his life anymore, so does it really matter if you know or not. Maybe you should let your daughter know that her biological father has decided to crash at your apartment door at two am on a Monday all in the name of apologizing. You're sure that she'd be disappointed after you had told her to never take a man back unless he groveled.
"Why are you really here?" You stare up at Leon as he slides you a mug of tea, and he sighs.
"Wanted to know if Leona was mine. She..."
"Don't delude yourself." You press the mug to your lips, and Leon exhales.
"Do you want the truth?"
"Should've started with that."
"You're on a wanted list of potential conspiracy theorists."
"What the hell?"
"Leaking government secrets... or something. That book you published."
"Ah." You mumble. "All over the book?"
"Too accurate of a retelling. The government didn't cover up the nuking, but they did cover up the zombies, so—"
"So they think I somehow am convincing the masses with the book that there were zombies."
"It's a national security concern."
"Which involves you? I thought the CIA covered that."
"I asked the president personally to be put on the case... didn't wanna fly international again. Also, it was you." He swallows slowly.
"So, if I get caught, you go down with the ship too, huh?" You laugh dryly, sliding him the half of breakfast you didn't touch. "You need to eat too."
You wonder if it mirrors all the times that Leon had been too tired after a day of drills to even respond to you when the two of you had been together, but even then, he had threaded his fingers between yours, telling you to sleep well before he headed off to bed himself. Age or PTSD? You can not imagine the trauma that goes into shaping Leon into who you see before you now. The blonde he used to dye his hair has faded out into a darker color — damaged hair making it a lighter brown rather than the one you had been used to when you first met him. Are you overstepping your boundaries? Is he overstepping your boundaries? You can not tell.
"Old habits die hard, huh?"
"It's been nearly twenty years." You mumble. "They shouldn't be habits anymore."
"Trust me. Some of them are just embedded into your soul." He glances at the door as it rattles, and you pinch the bridge of your nose.
"I'm home." Your daughter, Leona, pauses when she notices the man in the kitchen. "Who's this?"
"Leon Kennedy." You don't give her any more details beyond that, exhaustion written all over your face enough to tell her to save the question for another time. "How was the trip?"
"It was fun. I'll show you photos after I unpack. Hi, Mr. Kennedy."
Leon nods in response.
"Of course, baby. Did you eat yet?"
"I had a bagel in the morning, but I'll need lunch. Did the stuff in the fridge go bad?"
"No. I'll make lunch for us today."
"Thank you, ma."
You smile, waving as she tugs her luggage with her into her room.
"She's the spitting image of me." Leon stares down at you, brows furrowed. "How can she not be mine? Everything matches up."
"I cheated on you with a blonde man with blue eyes before you moved, or something." You half-ass it, standing up as you close your eyes and watch him eat. "What's next? I go to the town hall? I turn myself into the CIA?"
"No, I just need to monitor you regularly. That's it. You've been inactive in terms of writing for years. They just want me to keep you in check." He hums. "They moved me in next door. Let me know if you need anything."
"For how long?"
"Only a couple of months." He nods. "Can I meet Leona sometime?"
You glance at her open door, wondering if you should treat this a little more seriously.
"Make us lunch."
"Hm?"
"Lunch. We can talk about this over lunch. Dinner is too formal." You sigh. "Are you trying to be back in her life?"
"So she is mine." He mumbles. "I had a daughter all this time and you never bothered to tell me?"
"Didn't feel necessary. It would have stirred up too much press. Can you imagine me yelling at you that you have a daughter? The government would go insane. Now, answer my question. Are you trying to involve yourself in her life, or do you just want to introduce yourself to her?"
"You'll let me co-parent her?"
"Leon Scott Kennedy." You seethe. "Answer the fucking question."
"I don't know, but I think introducing myself would be a good start."
You pinch the bridge of your nose. "Shakshuka for brunch."
"Shakshuka?"
"We have the ingredients for it. You're on cooking duty. I trust that you haven't just been living off of store-bought food this whole time."
"No, I picked up cooking recently." He looks up a recipe on his phone, searching for the ingredients in your pantry as you knock on your daughter's door.
"Hm?"
"Leon will join us for brunch. Is that alright?"
"It's fine, ma." She smiles. "I have an idea on what's going to come out just... based off of his face."
"It wasn't to hurt you."
"I know." She nods. "I'll mull over it later when my insomnia hits, but I'll mull over it. I know you didn't do it to hurt me."
You glance at the souvenir she's decided to bring back and raise a brow. "Is that a mug?"
"Isn't it cute?" She grins. "Found it at a local potter's place while there."
"It is." You take it from her, tilting it to get a good look at the colors as she starts explaining the rest of her little trinkets.
"This one's for you." She hands you a mug that looks the same, and you raise a brow at the design.
"XOXO Gossip girl?" You raise a brow. "My coworkers are going to love this."
"Did you call off work today?"
"Yeah. Leon crashed last night, and I told the team that I wasn't able to make it."
"PTO?"
"PTO." You hum. "Thank you for the mug, baby. Did you see anything fun?"
"Met the president's daughter."
"On the trip?"
"Yeah. Our sorority was introducing ex-members, and she was one of them. She brought up how I reminded her of the dude who saved her that one time she got kidnapped... said we shared a name too."
"Ah, is that how?"
"Felt like a strange coincidence more than anything." She places her two bags of trinkets on her desk, and she hands you her mug. "Did you name me after him?"
"Partially. I just wanted you to be brave like your name." You listen to the way that the kitchen hood turns off. "Brunch is ready."
"How long did you date?"
"I'll tell you that after I've had my first glass." You hum. "I need one if you're going to ask me all of these questions."
Leona laughs, lips curled upwards as you take her out with you. She's taller than you, yet she is still your baby. Your sweet child whom you adored so much has grown up so much. The spitting image of her father that you had grown to be thankful for rather than get haunted by in the narrative. Your sweet daughter that you adored.
"Brunch is— oh, you both are already here. Your mother requested shakshuka."
"Oh... it's been all over my Tiktok lately." Your daughter mumbles.
"And I saw some bread, so I toasted some slices." Leon nods. "I figured I should introduce myself. I'm Leon—"
"My father." Your daughter is curt, nodding as Leon takes her hand. "Nice to finally know who you are."
"Trust me, had I known earlier, I would have come running. Your mother is insanely good at keeping secrets."
"Yes, ma has always been like that." Your daughter sits back down to start eating. "What do you work in?"
"Government."
"Like administrative or politics?"
"Security."
"Like FBI or internet?"
"I'd say it's closer to FBI, though, we don't do the same missions. I've been protecting the president lately."
"So like... bodyguard."
"Something like that."
You plate your daughter's food first and then Leon's, and yours last. You watch as your daughter makes small talk with him, surprisingly unbothered by the sudden intrusion of her biological father in her life, getting to know him over brunch. Though, you know your daughter better than anyone. She's not getting to know Leon, she's just making small talk so that Leon lets his guard down around her. You can't say you blame her. It's hard to accept a man who's been missing all of your life as soon as he comes back.
Your daughter turns to you as you hand her the plate. "Can I drink?"
"Careful, Leon can arrest you for that." You bite into your slice of toast, giving her no other answer.
"You let her drink?"
"It's safer to know what her tolerance is than to have her find out on her own. The answer is no, though. Not today, at least. Maybe when Leon isn't here."
"Tough luck, I'll be here pretty often from now on."
"What?" Your daughter raises a brow at you, and you give her a look that can only mean you'll tell her later.
"There won't be a later." Leon hums.
"If you write this in the report I'm going to burn you alive." You grumble. "Mom's under suspicion from the government because of a book I published years ago. A fiction book."
Your daughter raises a brow, and realization strikes her.
"Oh my god, it was true?"
"Leon wrote all of it in a letter to me." You hum. "And yes, it's what Leon does."
"You eradicate zombies? Like The Walking Dead?"
"Well, not as dramatic—" He pauses. "Alright. Sometimes it gets that dramatic, but it's nothing super big. They're moreso mutated biological weapons than zombies—"
"You fight bioweapons for a living. That's huge." Your daughter mumbles. "Do you know the biology behind it all? What are the—"
"Even if I did, I wouldn't be able to tell you. The government would suspect you next."
Your daughter huffs, going back to her egg instead.
"Are you in college? What are you majoring in?"
"Biology. I'm specializing in bioweapons"
"What."
You hold back the laugh that threatens to break onto your face, eating quietly as you watch Leon blink at your daughter twice.
"Biological weapons?"
"More specifically, I study gene mutation. I study how they come to be."
Leon turns to look at you, and you shrug. "Her choice. Whether she uses it for good or bad ultimately depends on her."
"They teach that?"
"GWU does." Your daughter shrugs. "Can I continue unpacking?"
"Of course, baby." You nod. "I'll keep chatting with Leon."
"Thank you for brunch." She nods, heading off.
"You're letting her study something that dangerous?"
"It's not dangerous unless she decides it is." You wipe your mouth, staring at the last egg. "What am I expected to do?"
"Not much." Leon hums. "I just need to report your day-to-day."
"Alright. I'm gonna rot on the couch all day, so you'll have nothing much to do. Is this your job for the next couple of months?"
"Don't worry, you'll have me all—"
"If you say another word, I'm going to shoot myself."
Leon laughs in response.
You find that having Leon around isn't the end of the world. You still exist in your day-to-day life, Leon hanging around your apartment while you're at work and your daughter is in class, and it makes for an interesting icebreaker when people ask how your weekend went. (It isn't "my ex moved next door to me", no, it's "a government agent paid me a visit over the weekend"). Yet, life goes on, and you find that despite your brooding over how the end of the world was coming because Leon had slipped back into your life, it's very much not the case. If anything, Leon sort of just exists in your life.
At the very least, someone cooks for both you and your daughter when you return home.
"What's the menu tonight?" You raise a brow, your daughter coming in after you as she kicks off her slippers.
"Beef stew."
"I'm surprised he knows how to season his food."
You hold back a laugh, sliding your heels off as Leon feigns a look of offense. Your daughter peels her tablet out, settling on the couch as you sit next to her, yawning.
"How was work?"
"Leon, stop acting like we're married." You grumble.
"Yeah, but you like coming home to a home-cooked meal, no?"
"Caught red-handed." You put both your hands up, watching as your daughter does some sort of witchery with her ochem homework. You don't wish it upon anyone, ever. Though, the idea of Leon trying to figure it out does amuse you just a little bit. You decide a short nap would work in your favor, telling the two to wake you up when dinner is ready, eyes closing as your daughter tells you good night.
Good night means you wake up at two am in bed, Leon knocked out on the couch, and just about a hundred question marks floating over your head. You glance at the pot of stew that sits in the fridge and a smaller bowl portioned out for you, and you jump in your skin when you hear Leon move.
"Awake?"
"Yeah." You reach for a can of beer, cracking it open as you sit back on the couch. "Why are you still here?"
"I was going to take you to bed, but I remembered you don't like your outside clothes on in your bed. I can't change you anymore since... yeah." He pauses at the beer. "Drinking on an empty stomach isn't going to feel so good in the morning."
"Wow, how kind of you."
Leon has not forgotten you. You're made aware of that at the very least, eyes still full of a sincerity and warmth that you had grown used to decades ago. It makes you sick to the stomach that you had such an effect on him despite the two of you ending on good terms. It was not good terms. It was surface-level good terms, but both of you had secretly wished the other would say something about sticking together. Both of you are cowards, now that you think about it. He probably would have stayed had you let him know that you were pregnant, but you didn't wish to hold him back. Maybe it was selfish of you.
Yet, you do not regret all that you have done for your daughter.
"I never moved on." Leon speaks slowly, light in the living room dim as you raise a brow at him. "I... I thought about you all these years, and—"
"If you're staying back to tell me all of this useless stuff, I don't see a point in you staying back."
"You're not ready for this conversation?"
"Leon," You glare at him. "This isn't a conversation we should be having at all. Our feelings mean nothing now. You're here to monitor me casually, nothing else. Imagine if the government found out that you were being so lacking on the job."
You watch as Leon's voice gets caught in his throat.
"We're too old for this."
"We aren't." He tries.
"We are." You leave it at that, shaking your bottle as you realize it's half empty. "Leon, we're in our forties and both have jobs—"
"You can't just say shit like that to hurt me!"
"Keep your voice down. Leona's a light sleeper." You grumble. "It's fine. Let's just end it at that."
Leon stays quiet, and the look behind his eyes tells you more than enough that he wants to continue the conversation, but he learns to keep quiet. It feels the same as before. It was always petty squabbles that could be fixed the morning after once you've cooled down, but you don't want to. It's a conversation you refuse to have with Leon. It's a conversation that's been rotting in the display case of your heart — something you refuse to let go of all because it would feel foreign. You're selfish, you find. You used to care for Leon's heart as your own, but the rotting has consumed your heart and mind. Maybe you will only hurt him if you stay close.
"Morning." Leon hands you your cup of tea and your daughter her flask of water, waving to her as she rushes off for her 8am.
"Morning." You press the mug to your lips.
"Ready to talk about it?"
"I told you the conversation was over." You hum, turning to stare at the clock. "I have work in an hour and a half."
"We should get breakfast by your workplace."
"Sure, mister bodyguard." You mumble. "Didn't feel like cooking?"
"You need to diffuse."
"I'm very good at separating personal life and my work life." You hum. "You're paying."
"Yeah, yeah." He grabs his jacket from the rack as you hit the button to lock the door, clicking on your phone as you start the security system.
"You driving?"
"I'd have to pick you up from work, no?"
"Leon... I take public transport to work. Leona uses the car."
"Oh." He pauses. "... I have a bike?"
You raise a brow.
When Leon said bike, you were expecting more of a... bike bike rather than a motorbike, and as Leon steps on the gas and you're chanting quiet prayers in your mind to stay alive, something feels all too foreign yet familiar. Leon wanted to get a motorbike when the two of you had first started dating years ago, so to be able to see Leon have his own and drive safely was interesting. You are watching him grow. He has changed in little parts of his life. It is comforting to know that the pace you had been matching was moving at the very least. Perhaps you can not see how far you've come if no one can show you how far you've gone.
"Ugh, my hair." You huff, fixing your hair as Leon pays for parking.
"Is this a date?"
"If you somehow remember my order." You brush at the loose strands, following behind Leon as he guides you around the uneven pavement. You wonder if you'll bump into someone you know. It's a popular brunch place even for government workers. You follow Leon in, blinking as somehow a table clears up and the two of you are seated. It makes you raise a brow, but you don't think too much, looking at your emails as he orders for the two of you. You wonder how much of you he does remember.
When one of your coworkers comes up and asks you who you're with, you glance at Leon and tell the guy that it's your neighbor. He was plenty of trouble already, and as Leon raises a brow at the man that only means trouble, you worry for the poor guy's health. Leon's going to decimate this guy, even if it's unintentional. You can only hope he doesn't go around telling everyone you're hooking up with your ex again. Though, it's not like they knew you had an ex. You could play everything off. Perhaps this was the curse of working in journalism with men whose temper breaks at the slightest aggravation.
"If you're just neighbors, then this should be fine, right? What, you won't date me because your daughter's still young? She's an adult now. You should be honored that—"
"Hey, man, I wouldn't go that way if I was you." Leon raises a brow at the man, and your coworker raises a brow.
"Shut it, neighbor."
"The father of her child begs to differ."
That's all it takes to shut up your coworker, his face red as he storms off, and you grin into your palm, eyes meeting Leon's as he hums.
"Didn't even need to pull out the badge."
"Now, that would have been a power move." You thank the waiter as the food comes and eat. "You keep it on you?"
"Required at all times. It's helpful when out, definitely." He glances at the food. "Will you have leftovers?"
"Definitely. Can you take them back for me?"
"Of course."
When you arrive at the company, you're bombarded with questions — unsurprising considering everyone here is an investigative journalist of some kind, and you wave all of them off. You don't want to talk about it. He is the father of your daughter. That's all. He's not someone you're allowed to love anymore, and you should leave it at that. It won't just take a handful of months for him to somehow get you back. It would have to take more than that. No one pries further when they notice you refuse to budge. Perhaps time would tell.
When you return, you note your daughter's text about staying over at a friend's place and step home.
"Where's Leona?"
"Out with her best friend." You hum. "House is just me for the week. Don't try anything funny, though."
"Do you still have the old photobook?"
"Of before we broke up?" You raise a brow, pulling out another can from the fridge.
"Can I get one?" He thanks you as he catches it, nodding to your question.
"Yeah. It's somewhere in the study's cardboard boxes. Why?"
"Wanted to look over them."
"Well, haven't you grown sentimental?" You crack open the bottle, holding it out to clink bottles with him, pressing the drink to your lips as you hum.
"Maybe I just miss you."
"I'm right here."
"Sometimes I worry you aren't."
You laugh in response, brows knitting and resembling a sneer, but it isn't malicious. It's the same smile that Leon knew you put on when you were annoyed that someone had read you like an open book. It wasn't fair. Leon hadn't moved either, and the two of you had been stuck matching pacing in life only to stay exactly where the two of you had started. It wasn't fair. It was never fair. Were you stuck where you began all because you had been fixated on your past? Unfair. It was unfair.
Leon stares at the can in his hand, sighing.
"What's wrong now?"
"I should have looked for you earlier." He mumbles, grimacing at the taste of the alcohol on his tongue. "I should have known."
"I didn't expect you to."
"You had been nauseous the days leading up to my departure."
"And? I kept her from you."
"It was not your fault. I left you with no way to contact me." He mumbles. "I should've... worried about her instead of someone else."
"It's not your fault. You didn't start the outbreak, and you didn't choose to join the government."
"How did you know that?" He turns to look at you, and you hum. "Despite our cutting news, we also take bribes. One of the first archival information I was given was that you had been forced into your position because of your stellar behavior in Raccoon City. They threatened you with that other girl.,, Sherry, was it?"
Leon grimaces. "I ended up seeing her so little because of my position."
"It wasn't your fault." You tap the rim of the can, blinking slowly as Leon meets eyes with you.
"You haunt my world."
"Good to know." You swallow slowly, staring at Leon as he meets eyes with you. You wonder if he's actually drunk or just taking the opportunity to be honest with you. Regardless, you appreciate the attempted honesty. Shall you bait him? Tear your soul bare all for him to look at you and touch your heart all over again? Shall you present yourself bare to the bone to Leon so he could feel that you were finally being honest with him? How unkind of you — to think that way.
"Leon, did you love me?"
"I don't think love could even begin to describe how much I adored you." He runs his hand through his hair, laughing as he takes another drink. "I couldn't sleep without you for months after I left."
"Really?" You think back to all the nights you had woken up in need to empty out your stomach, grimacing at the memory. "But you moved on, no?"
"Hm?" Leon turns to look at you completely now, eyes going half-lidded as you get the idea. "No, sweetheart. I never did."
"I guess those shitty bedroom eyes you give me when you want something hasn't either. Couch is all yours. I'm locking the door tonight."
"I love you." Leon manages, swallowing as he stumbles out of the chair, reaching for your wrist as he ends up on his knees again. "Fuck, I'd rather die than live without you again. I'm already here begging for you — what, what else do I need to do? I'll—"
"Leon." You stare down at him, brows furrowed as you seem to remember this scene all too well. "We're both adults with jobs—"
"With a daughter." He swallows. "We're parents too, you know? We're also our own people. Why do you keep stopping me from making choices to put you first?"
"You work for the government. As much as I despise it, you keep all of us safe." You mumble. "Let's talk in the morning if you remember anything about this conversation at all."
"I'm not drunk." He mumbles, and you drag him back to the ouch, helping him get comfortable as you stare down at his closed eyes.
You've hurt the two of you more than enough, you think.
You check your daughter's location, fingers clicking on your keyboard as you wonder if you should take a trip out too. It had been a while since you've actually taken paid vacations and not sick days. You wonder if you'd get your ass kicked if you just decided to take PTO off a day in advance, but considering the lack of news going around lately, it wouldn't be impossible.
A break. You need a break to collect yourself.
So, you leave Leon a note, refusing to diffuse too quickly out of a fear that you'll snap, and you call the head office right first thing in the morning to let them know that you'll be taking two weeks off for personal reasons. You assure them anything left to you will be handed in on time, just... you wouldn't be able to make it to the office. It's not PTO, the more that you think about it. You're really just working remotely.
You leave in the morning with a suitcase, ticket booked for the middle of nowhere. Anywhere but home, you decide. It is not that home is where your belongings are. Your home is where your heart is, and for a long, long time, it has been with Leon. You can not recall a moment in which he hasn't been the place your heart was, but you wonder if it was possible that at some point, your heart had just shattered and broke in your chest instead of staying with him.
You step out onto the sunny beach houses of your company's private island given as a bribe and think you're in utter bliss. Though, the story that would have sold was worth a couple million dollars, you guess. You don't care at that point. It had been a long time since you had last taken a while off for the sake of your body. You draft things to discuss when you get back. You're sure Leon will probably find you somehow, but it really isn't your problem. Until you're nice and warm from the inside out under the sun, it is not something you'll care about.
You should probably have a talk with Leona once the two of you return as well.
Your days on vacation are nice, sand in your toes and drink in your hand as you abuse company privileges, checking your phone to like your daughter's photos as she sends you updates about her day. You're glad Leon doesn't have your number (though you're sure that he could get it if he really wanted it). You trust that he lacks in nothing when it comes to stalking you down.
Which is inevitably true when Leon finds himself on the same island, texting Ashley a thanks as he steps up to your beach chair, covering you from the sun as you stare up.
"Took you long enough."
"Still haven't changed that awful habit of yours, huh? Running away when you need to have a conversation?" He takes a step back, taking a seat on the beach chair next to you.
"It took you a while this time."
"Yeah, well, it isn't exactly the small town bar we used to visit, no? I can't believe your third place has become a private island only certain government workers can get into."
"Yeah, but you're here, no?" You sit up, taking your sunglasses off. "Let's talk."
"I'm sorry."
"I still don't understand why you're apologizing if there's nothing to apologize for."
"I feel guilty that I left."
"We weren't in a place where we could decide where we wanted to go." You pause. "The child would have slowed you down. Leona's great, but if I told you that you had a daughter, you would have left everything behind just to return. I did not want to tear that away from you."
"I—"
"You couldn't have raised a child with your job." You hum. "I don't despise you for it."
"And then? Did you love me at all? You never let me decide what I wanted and didn't want to do." He grimaces. "I would've put you two first. You know that. I loved you even while I should not have. You should know better than anyone that I would have been hung up over you. You can not replace my first love in my heart and then not tell me about Leona."
"It's unfortunate I did, then."
"I... still love you." He mumbles. "It's fine if it's not mutual, but please don't cut me out of your life again. Let me make the choices this time. We're both at an age where we can."
You finally look at Leon, and you sigh. "I won't stop you, but do not expect anything back from me."
"I won't."
You wonder if you should fear getting used to being taken care of by Leon. You play cards with him by the pool, drink with him at the bar, lie with him under the warm sun, and you wonder if you've gone back in time for a moment. Is this it? Is that it? Is that all there is to this? Is all it took a sincere apology from him? You feel like you should apologize as well, but there's just something stuck in your throat whenever you try and bring it up.
"Hey, Leon, did you ever hate me?" You glance at the wine in your glass, and Leon raises a brow from the hotel room. You wonder when the two of you had become close enough to share a room again. Is this some weird form of being roommates? You're too old for this, you think. You're far too old to be having a moment like this.
"No. Well, I was hurt when you told me to leave, but I never hated you." He hums.
"Good, since I feel like I still owe you an apology and all that." You mumble. "Sorry for forcing choices upon you. I just... I always feel like you can do better."
"Oh, honey, you are better." He mumbles, raising a brow at you from his bed as you frown.
"Sure, but I'm still sorry for being a terrible person." You mutter. "I can't guarantee anything from your efforts, but I appreciate you a lot."
Leon raises a brow at your words, but he doesn't speak up.
"Anyways. Maybe I'm just some control freak who needs to know everything that's going on like some maniac." You tuck your legs under your chin, staring out at the ocean as Leon seems to remember something. You don't know what, but you feel too vulnerable to find out, opting to stay in place and blink instead. The waves crash against the sand gently, and even when the lights are turned off and you're stuck in bed, you wonder if something's wrong. There's always something wrong.
You step out of the room, stepping on the beach as you wrap the robe around you tighter. The waves are higher now, and as you dip your feet in the cold water, you wonder what it'd be like to float off into the distance. Right. right. No, you have a daughter who would ruin her life in order to fix yours. You wonder how you managed to raise her to be the way she is without a father in the house. Maybe you sold your soul in order to do that.
The waves eat at your ankles, night breeze rustling your hair, goosebumps snaking up your calves as you continue staring into the distance. You don't know. You wonder if you could just keep playing stupid and not knowing. It had worked until Leon stumbled back into your life. Well, stumbled would be the wrong word. He kind of... crashed into your life again. You still wonder if his mission was truly a mission. He was always the type to make harmless jokes when it came to you.
It probably isn't. You saw him working on his laptop before you tucked yourself in.
"You're up." Leon's voice emerges from behind you, and you take a step back to turn.
"Yes." You hum.
"Couldn't sleep?"
"No." You close your eyes as the wind blows again.
"What's wrong?"
"A lot." You mumble. "Though, not much of it is my choice. I'm wondering if I can just go back to playing stupid."
"You should see a therapist." Leon cracks a smile. "Mine's pretty good."
"No wonder you've changed so much." You sport the same smile, stepping out of the water back into the sand. "Let's go back."
"Will you be able to sleep?"
"Time will tell."
You aren't able to, but at the very least you catch three hours of rest before you emerge from bed with bedhead you hadn't seen since your youth. Leon laughs as he brings you breakfast, and you sigh, raking your hands through your hair.
"How's Leona?"
"I think she went to Amsterdam or something."
"How are you sustaining her lifestyle?"
"I know this is hard to believe, but our company actually pays a livable wage for all of us since we know too much. The government has compensation for our work too. We're basically entangled with the government at this point."
"And you don't pay for your life?"
"No bad sides. I don't know which senators and people of the cabinet decided to bomb the city. I just know it was bombed. It's why you received such a vague order."
Leon puts your breakfast down by your legs.
"Thank you." You hum. "How'd you sleep?"
The look on Leon's face implies something along the lines of getting the best rest in a while.
"That's good." You start at breakfast, staring at the lower tides before glancing at Leon. "Did we ever go on a beach date? I forgot."
"Us and what beach? We were landlocked."
"True, huh." You think to yourself, eating absentmindedly as Leon changes in the bathroom. You glance at the robe on yourself, and you wonder if you should just go naked or something. No, you'd probably get sniped or something. Shorts it is.
You place the tray on the table as you finish, wiping your mouth when Leon steps out of the bathroom.
"Wowwwww..." You grin. "Stay in shape, Agent Kennedy?"
"Government-mandated." He chuckles. "When do you go back?"
"In like, two days. You gonna catch a flight back with me?"
"How else am I going to get back?"
"Not sure." You hum. "Maybe swimming?"
"On an island in the middle of the Atlantic? Tough luck." He hums.
Leon settles back into your life after that. You wonder if this would categorize as co-parenting or being roommates, but you don't put a label to anything. It's not worth the time and effort. The PTO was good for your soul, but you return to being a corporate slave in the end anyway. Only, you wish Leon would stop stirring up more trouble when picking you up downstairs at your office each day. Would it kill him to be a little more secretive? Well, not like you told him about it. You used to like it when he did that while dating.
"You got me flowers?" You raise a brow, taking them from him as he nods.
"How was work?"
"It was fine. If you think this is all it takes to win me back, though? Not happening." You glance at the flowers. "Though, thank you for the flowers."
You're sure your coworkers are going insane over this. You don't know how long you had been single when most of your coworkers had gotten married and hitched. It really wasn't something on your mind after having Leona. So, for you to be going through the whole courtship thing again from Leon was a little strange. Well, not that you mind being pampered.
"Are you driving us home?" You raise a brow.
"I promise not to crash." He shows you the car keys, and you sigh. Well, if you die, you die.
You yawn as you get on behind him, arms wrapping around his waist as he takes you home. You wonder if Leona's home by now. She's probably unpacking again. You're not really surprised when you get home and she has her stuff sprawled out in the living room. Well, as long as it's not hurting anyone.
"What's this?" You pick up a keychain with a rabbit. "Miffy?"
"Miffy! The Dutch rabbit that Japan loves." Your daughter hums. "Isn't she cute?"
"Yes, she is." You hum. "Should I..."
"Don't check my credit card statement, please." She mumbles. "I've made some bad decisions."
"As long as you can pay it off." Your brows furrow as you contemplate. "Yeah, as long as you won't end up in debt."
She gives you a thumbs up. "You can have the one you picked up. There should be another one in blue for Leon."
"You got him something?"
"Appreciate it." He picks up the keychain, glancing at the doll. "The agents are about to have a field day when they see this keychain."
"Too out of character?"
"No, last time I had a keychain was in Spain." He hums. "I ended up giving it to Ashley."
"She still uses it." Leona speaks up. "I was out with her this time."
"When the hell did you get so close to the ex-president's daughter?"
"When I went on my sorority trip. She liked me a lot since I look so much like Leon."
"When are you going to start calling me dad?"
"Never." Leona deadpans. "You've been missing all my life. Don't push your luck."
Leon pouts, squeezing the keychain gently to calm himself.
"Yeah, she flew me over. She's great. Saw her texting Leon on the trip, though. You wanna explain that?"
"I was looking for your mom." Leon hums.
"Oh, the flowers." You remember, kicking your shoes off as you rest them on the counter.
"Yeah, I told her you're my biological dad and she told me about some agent you were flirting with in Spain."
"Not a government agent." He clears up. "She's someone I met in Raccoon City."
"Kissed?"
He grimaces as your daughter takes it as a yes. "If you cheat on mom, I'm going to ruin your life."
"How?"
"You'd be surprised how many senator's children go to my uni. Stay keen, and don't be an ass."
Leon settles into a schedule of picking you up after work, a different trinket in hand each time he picks you up, and you always take it, placing it in a box in the living room, the three of you eating together for dinner. You wonder if Leona has ever considered having a dad. Maybe she gave up a long time ago when you explained to her that her dad was someone in your past. Well, that statement sure came to bite you in the ass. He's not so much of someone in the past now, is he? You wonder if Leona would have something to say if you were to start with Leon again.
Yet, you don't tell her what happened on the island for the time being, her busy with her studies before the start of summer. So, instead of calling her and keeping her up, you let her tend to her own watching as she grumbled over all-nighters and classwork that wasn't ending. Despite her running around for her break, she wasn't gonna be able to run from her finals.
"Can you lobby so my professors get fired and I have no exam?"
"Tough luck, baby." You laugh. "I'm not in that line of business."
"I am, though." Leon hums. "Who do you need gone?"
"Leon." You warn. "No."
"His name's—"
You sigh as the two of them get into hypotheticals about taking out her professor with a sniper rifle, and you wonder where Leona had learned all of that. Though, from the stuff you had seen on the shared desktop before she got her own laptop, you think you know. It's whatever... it was probably from Twitter or one of her fanfictions. You wonder if the unrestricted internet access as a teenager was worth it — well, not your problem. She's gotten off boyfriend-free and kid-free so it's fine. There are worse things that could happen.
You wonder how much more help Leon could have been when she was going through that fic writing phase of her in middle school. You're sure all that knowledge of weapons could have helped her a lot. Well, not that you mind it anymore. It's nice to see the two of them get along. She is her father's daughter, after all. It makes you wonder if this could have happened under different circumstances. Well, what point is there in moping over a universe that isn't yours?
"What's for dinner?"
"I made a reservation for a place." Leon hums. "It's pretty basic so you wouldn't need to dress up."
"Well, if anything, you'd be the one who needs to dress up." You raise a brow at Leon as he glances at the two of you, nodding slowly.
"It's just a family restaurant that gets busy around this time." He stares at his t-shirt and jeans.
"You know, Leon." Leona raises a brow. "I'm sure you don't just wear this while on duty. What do you wear normally?"
"It depends on the occasion. Most of the time it's a suit."
"Government agents in suits is crazy." You mumble. "And when you're out on a mission?"
"It's typically some sort of body armor and a compression shirt with cargo pants and combat boots."
"What brand does the government use?"
"There's a variety of suppliers, but the material stays the same. We aren't just sponsored by one."
"Democracy, or something." You hum. "What time is dinner?"
You wonder if Leona has ever entertained the idea of having a dad in her life. She had been adamant about letting you know as a teenager that she didn't care if she had no dad as long as you wouldn't disappear or just die, but you had a feeling that she had just lied at the time to make you feel better. Well, she had grown up without a dad, so it wasn't super surprising that she had ever wondered what it would feel like to have one. You wonder if you should have just dated, but there was no way you'd be able to with such a young child. Maybe you shouldn't have—
"Whatcha thinkin' bout?"
You space back in, striking the hammer one last time as the tent is set up properly. The insulation is set up thanks to Leona, and you start the grill outside in the camping zone. The stars are starting to show, and the moon sits high in the sky as you grill the meat. Leona refreshes for her grades, chewing on her bottom lip as you serve her dinner. She only lets out a sigh in relief when her grades all come back as normal.
"You alright?"
"My GPA will live." She huffs. "Thanks for dinner."
"Of course."
"It's been a while since we've done this." Leona stares up at the stars in the forest as you crack open a can of beer for the two of you. "Is this about Leon?"
"You don't need to call him that." You hum. "I thought I'd get your opinion. I'm your mom just as much as I am my own person."
"I'm fine with it." Leona hums. "You've... I don't know. You've grown softer since he's joined us. Ugh, I'm not good at this like you are."
You laugh, adjusting the blanket on her as you turn to face her.
"You won't be mad?"
"No. It'd be... nice to experience having a dad. officially. I can't lie and say I've never once wondered what it's like to have a dad." Leona huffs. "Though, please let me punch him at least once when he officially asks you out."
"In the face?"
"I might break my fist, but hey, at least I broke his nose."
You wonder what universe you saved in a past life to deserve a daughter like this. Though, not that you complain of it. Leona lets out a sigh in relief when her grades come out unscathed, and you press the can to your lips as she catches you up on what was going on. Sorority drama sounds like a lot to you, but Leona handles it all just fine. She likes it there, and while the people around her have their flaws, you're glad she can see past most of them. At least she knows how to stay sane.
You can tell Leon's trying. He spends less time on his laptop at night, typing less and less details on your day-to-day life before it completely is voided, and when you try and ask, he tells you the mission is over. You wonder if that means he'll go back to his work clothes. Yet, for some reason he stays in the apartment next door, taking you to work each morning as he insists it's "on the way" (it's not). He always takes you back with flowers, your coworkers getting unbearable to a certain degree as they pry into your day-to-day life. You tell them that he's just trying to court you.
"Water," Leon hands Leona her bottle as she waves goodbye, handing you your bag as you follow after her while doing your hair. You stare at the mirror by the door, smoothing it out as you blink at Leon's crooked tie.
"Tie." You don't think, fingers sliding under Leon's tie as you unravel it, tying it properly as he holds his breath, daring not to move as your fingers smooth over the clothes, patting his chest as you turn back around you make sure your hair is fine. Leon tries to calm his racing heart as the two of you step into his car, his heart beating so hard he's sure he could throw up on command. Intimate. Too intimate. You can feel it too. The last time you had done that was when the two of you were young. Much younger. The racing heart makes Leon think that the two of you really haven't changed all that much.
"Have fun at work."
"Thank you." You step out of the car, waving as Leon watches you enter the building before driving off.
You calm your racing heart, ears ringing all the way to your floor as you exhale. Habit. You hadn't done it for Leon in such a long time, but the familiarity of reaching for his crooked tie and fixing it was like second nature to you. Maybe you haven't changed. Maybe neither of you changed, and at the rate that things were going, you think it's fine that neither of you has outpaced the other. The two of you are parallel lines, holding hands all the way as the two of you move through life. It's fine. You're fine. You'll be fine.
Leon picks you up after work like he always does. You stare out the window the whole time, silence pooling in the car as you think. You think too much while you think less and less these days. What are you doing here? Why are you here? Is the only thing stopping you from dating him your own flaws? Why are you letting them get in the way when you could be peeling back your skin and laying bare to him? He won't hurt you, you know that much.
You know what comes next. You have the feeling, you always do. You know that at one point Leon's going to try and confess to you, and you wonder if he could possibly outdo himself from last time. You wonder if he'll show up with flowers and a teddy bear to your apartment like he did the first time. You wonder if you could skip the formality and just confess to him first. It would be funny and catch him off guard, you think. When you spot your favorite for dinner, you think you will.
"Leona's gonna have dinner with friends." You sit down, thanking him as he hands you a plate.
"I know. She texted."
"Mhm." You wait for him to sit down before eating, lips curled upwards as you grin. "Leon, will you go out with me again?"
He's caught off guard, fumbling with his fork as he blinks at you. "Pardon?"
"Will you go out with me again? I have a lot of flaws, but—"
"Yes! Yes. Oh, my god. Yes." Leon blurts. "I was supposed to confess first, my god. I feel like this is our first date all over again— I'm still in love with you despite everything, and I'm begging you for the chance to date you again on a clean slate. This time, we both make our own decisions without regrets, and we talk it out when we have disputes. This time, I won't leave no matter what, and if I need to leave, I bring you with me. Please go out with me— I will kneel and beg."
"There has got to be a better way to say that." You laugh, watching as Leon slides out of his seat to grab something behind the counter for you. "And if I say no?"
"I imitate the meme that Ashley's been sending me with the text messages and fall on my knees and beg."
"Sounds really tempting..." You tap your chin. Leon grabs your hands, frowning at you gently as you reach up instinctually to smooth out the crease between his brows. "I was kidding. Please treat me well."
"I'll make sure you never need to think again." He mumbles, pressing your fingers to his lips as you hum. "Please accept the flowers."
"Will you get me flowers once a week?"
"I'll make sure you never have to lift a finger to do housework. I'll retire for you."
"Are you really sure you'll be allowed to do that?"
"As long as the president orders it." He mumbles. "I'll just say I can't work anymore and fake a doctor's order."
You laugh, raising a brow. "You'll do that for me?"
"And much more." He mumbles, lowering his head into your lap. "As long as you give me the chance."
"Then be sure to hold on."
"Forever and ever, always."
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The door to the apartment clicks open, and Leona stares at the second bouquet on the living room table.
"Ma?"
You nod.
"Leon, how sturdy are you?" Leona raises a brow, tossing her backpack to the side and ditching her jacket.
"I'm mostly muscle. Why?"
"Leona's gonna swing at you, give her a second." You take a step back with the flowers, Leona winding up her arm as Leon blinks. "No, you're not allowed to dodge. Think of it as playful fighting. It's to welcome you into the family."
"Please be gentle. I've seen your arm muscles, and there's a high chance it'll bruise or kill me." Leon clenches his jaw, wincing as Leona lands a hit on his cheek, sound making the two of you blink. Leon rubs his jaw, laughing as he winces.
"Sorry, dad. Had to do it." She grins, shaking her hand as the words punch Leon a second time.
"Say that again."
"Hm? Sorry?"
"No, you called me dad."
You hide behind the flowers as you laugh, watching as Leon grabs Leona by the shoulders and beams.
"Say it again."
"Alright, old man. You're pushing your luck now." She rolls her eyes, kicking her shoes off and falling back onto the couch to escape his grasp. "We've got plenty of time. Also, you're paying for my tuition now."
"Oh my god, I'm a dad."
You squat to the ground as you laugh, back shaking as Leon stands there, dazed.
Leona takes the chance to slip away, and as the living room fills with your laughter, you think it'll be fine.
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appleblueberry-pie · 8 months
Note
yandere miles 42 when a guys asks you out to prom yk like where they make a whole scene a cardboard box cut into a square and it has will you go out to prom with me 😭😭 and says the most cheasy thing making you cringe and a large group of ppl are surrounding you two but we reject them and they get mad and you tell miles all abt it ^^ i love your posts btw🙏🏽
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[Come back home to me.]
You knew something funny was gonna happen when people were smiling your way, giggling and whispering about you. And the further you trekked down the hallway, the more crowded it was. You tried to keep your eyes to yourself as you slithered through the crowd. Clutching your backpack straps harder. Phones were out and on you, you felt a little nervous. This day has been hard enough for you. Long, grueling hours in class, people chatting up a storm in your ears, a mind-blowing headache that you've had all damn day that you could only take medication for just 30 minutes ago. You were tired.
"Hey, Y/n!" You tense up before sighing, shoulders dropping. How much happier would you be if you just ignored the call of your name and dealt with the backlash tomorrow, instead? You recognized the voice, and knew that if you ignored him...you'd be dealing with the consequences forever. You decided to turn around.
There goes Travis. His dark brown complexion and well-maintained dreads make him stand out. They were pulled back into a low pony, probably because he knew these videos would be the talk of the school for a while. He always loved the spotlight. A junior, like you, giving you that smile that all of the girls bothered him to give to them. It's directed right at you while he holds a beautifully made sign. It's humongous. And pink. And purple. Colors that you don't remember telling him were your favorite. Your head begins to hurt again when you notice your name drawn in amazing detail and care, followed by something among the lines of "prom" and "love of my life."
Somehow in the time span that you scanned your eyes over the sign that determined your possibly inevitable doom, a perfect circle was formed by the students who stood and watched you two like hawks. The flash on phones made you calculate that these videos wouldn't leave the internet for at least a month. Great. A month of reminders. A month of prodding and picking at your sanity from a place you have to go to damn near every day for an education. And a month of replays of a rejection.
You're not telling him yes.
Travis's homeboys hoot and holler to encourage him. "Y/n..." He starts, taking a step closer to you. A fake smile wobbles onto your lips and you stare up at him. "......yes...?" Everyone suddenly goes silent as you two begin to converse.
The way he stares at you makes you feel like....what he's looking for in you isn't something you'd give up for any high school boy anytime. Because what he wants, you know it isn't genuine love. So it makes you nervous the way he seems to tower over you during his, so called, "profession of love".
"Your beauty and smarts is something I've always wanted in a girl." His voice is loud and clear. It echoes throughout the hallway, like he wants everyone to hear. You don't think the halls have ever been so quiet. "Everyday, I'd pass you in the hallways while you carry your textbooks and wonder what it'd be like talking to you every morning before class. What it would be like to love you the way you deserve to be loved." His vague explanation of his love towards you had you wondering if anyone else also realized how fake this whole thing was.
His dark brown eyes never leave your face and he's right in front of you now. "So, I made this sign...to show you how much I love you. And how much I want to be with you. So, if it isn't so much to ask," Travis slowly puts the sign aside and drops to one knee, taking one of your hands into his, holding it carefully. "would you please go to prom with me? And let me be your man?"
The longer he watched the live feed, the harder it was to not burn his work space to the ground. The longer he listened, the harder he tweaked his claw he was attempting to fix. He was trying. He was trying so hard to stay calm. Because it's not like you'd say yes. But at the same time, no matter how often he kills or beats niggas up, "They just keep fucking touching you, puto cabrón!" He swipes the table, his tools and broken claw flying to the ground. Miles takes deep breaths, holding his head in his hands.
He stands up, turning off his phone and begins pacing. He didn't wanna see the rest of that. Why does he have to keep doing this? Don't they understand your his? Just his??? Yes, you're the shining light that keeps Brooklyn alive, yes, yes, this isn't news. But he's always with you. So why do they keep bothering you?
It doesn't matter because he's gonna keep killing them until they get the message. The more roaches he brings into the light, the better. He suddenly rushes to his phone and quickly dials your number, chest heaving as he tries to calm himself.
Your phone silently vibrates in your back pocket and your heart drops. It had to be Miles. Because he wasn't at school today and this definitely wouldn't have happened if he was here. You're so fucked, you think to yourself as everyone cheers at Travis's speech. And it goes silent again as they wait for your answer.
Suddenly, Travis is so hard to look at. You didn't want to be stared at like that when he's gonna die in the next few hours. Miles was gonna get him and it'd be your fault. He always said it wasn't and would caress your face as reassurance, but there's no excuse when he only kills these guys at school because they talk to you. And not for any other reason. You always have to be where the line is drawn.
"No, I can't go to prom with you." You say, chest lifting of the thousand pound weight that held it down. Travis didn't even look sad, he still had that adoring look in his eyes. And you then knew that he was faking all of this. "Why not? Is it because of Miles?" He stands, still holding your hand and shakes his head. "If he's bothering you, I could....get rid of him if you want. Cause that nigga, he a fucking weirdo. And he clearly, like, has you hostage or something, cause he ain't nothing special. Any one of us is better than him." He scoffs at the mention of him and his friends laugh with him.
You shake your head and take your hand away. "No, sorry, Travis. I just....don't wanna go." He rolls his eyes and smiles at you, picking up his sign. "Whatever. That's aight." He tosses it in the nearest trash can. You wonder if he even made that himself with the way he tossed it with zero regards. He turns back to you one last time and nods. "I'll holler. Let me know when you get rid of yo little guard dog. He be stinking the halls anyway."
And everyone dispersed.
You let out the breath you didn't know you were holding. You think this city is going to be the death of you with how many times you've gotten unwanted attention based on your looks. You tense up once more when you remember that Miles was calling you. The sudden silence after multiple calls was never a good thing. You yanked your phone out of your pocket and saw the 20-something missed calls and whispered to yourself in fear.
Immediately, you began your journey to his place.
His room was dark and cold. Only the light from outside his window illuminated it. You softly dropped your backpack into the usual corner and backed up to sit on his bed, but your back softly collided with a warm wall that also wrapped it's arms around your torso. You flinched as Miles exhaled in your ear, his head resting on your shoulder. "Miles, what the hell...."
He squeezes you a little and backs you both up, until he brings you to sit on his lap on his bed. He shifts you, so that you're facing him, his hand caressing your face and rubbing your back. "Hermosa como siempre, mami. How was your day?"(Beautiful as always, mami.) He whispers it to you, to calm you down. You're visibly nervous at his actions, expecting him to explode any minute.
"Um...it was alright. I did my project in 3rd period and got a coffee drink with my lunch. And..... I got asked to prom." You stare down at him, watching him scan you up and down, and let him 'check' your pockets before resting his hands on your waist. "Yeah? Who asked?" He already knew the answer, but wanted to hear it from you.
You severely struggled to tell him it was Travis. You were tired of him killing people. You were tired of the apologies from men who were beaten half to death because of you. You scrunched your eyebrows as your throat began to close.
"Hm?" He asked. You hated how calm he was about this. How he held you so dearly as you fidgeted with your uniform skirt. Tears built up in your eyes and you shook your head. Miles pulled you closer, immediately wiping your eyes. "No, no, por favor no llores, nena. No estés triste. I just want you to tell me who did it, that's all."(No, no, please don't cry, baby. Don't be sad.) You break into full out sobbing and wipe at your eyes.
"I don't- don't want to because you're gonna kill him!" You stutter and manage to spit out your words, voice wobbly. Miles shushes you and rocks you back and forth, resting your head on his chest. His voice rumbles in your ears when he speaks. "You don't have to worry about a thing when I'm here with you, N/n. All I want is for you to drop his name, and everything else doesn't matter."
He kisses your forehead sweetly, letting his lips linger for a few seconds. "Okay?" You nod and try to take deep breaths. You couldn't win against him. He probably already knew who proposed to you, and Travis's fate still wouldn't be unavoidable. "Travis." You felt immense guilt and despair the moment you dropped his name.
"Travis...." Miles repeats. Just putting his name in the air made him pissed all over again. He stays silent for a few seconds before tilting his head to the side. "I just realized why that name is so familiar," He starts. "That's that nigga who robbed and threatened you last year, ain't it?" Miles scoffs and turns to look at you. "Is that why you didn't leave when he brought up that sign? Cause of what he did to you?"
You scrunch your eyebrows at his words and sit up. "How do you know about that?" You didn't meet Miles until a month after you were robbed by Travis in your sophomore year. So, him knowing about that was weird, especially since you never brought it up to him before. Miles ignores your question and continues. "I should've known some shit was off." Miles places you on the bed and gets up, grabbing some clothes to change into.
You rush to stand in front of him to stop him. "Miles, wait! Please- please don't do this. He didn't even do anything to me. All he did is ask me out. I said no. What's wrong with that??"
"What's wrong with that is that nigga is gonna keep fucking getting at you until he can get into your pants, baby. I'm not stupid. These niggas know what they doin' riling you up and sending you back home to me crying and shit. Ain't you tired??" Miles begins to size you up, backing you towards his bedroom door, clothes clutched in his hand as he stares down at you.
"I am fucking tired. And I'm also tired of you ruining my life by making more rumors for niggas to spread about me. Nobody wants to be near me because of you, Miles!" You jab your finger into his chest and he grabs your hand. "You don't need nobody else." You hear his breathing speed up and realized you should've kept your mouth shut.
It's too damn silent for your liking. All you can hear is him and your heartbeat in your ears. "When the fuck have you ever needed anyone else besides me?.....I take care of you. I feed you, I do your fucking hair every morning, I walk you to and from school, I protect you. Es que no es suficiente?(Is that not enough?)" You don't respond and stare up into brown eyes that glare down at you. "How 'bout I show you how good you got it?" You try to pull your hand back, but his iron grip isn't letting up. "What.....? Miles, let me go."
"What's wrong, mi corazón? Don't wanna see?" Miles almost jokingly asks about your sudden concern. He steps into your space once more and firmly grabs your face. "Look at me when I tell you this,"
He shakes his head. "You don't know how to protect yourself. I'm the only one who knows how to keep you safe in these fucked up streets. When was the last time you felt protected before you met me? Huh? Cause I know you haven't. I'm meant to be here with you! I'm protecting you from the horrible fucking things that are happening out there that could've been happening to you, baby. You heard?"
You struggle to remove his hands from your face and he makes no move to stop the distress he's putting you in. "Okay, okay, Miles. Just...please stop."
Miles places a kiss onto your forehead before holding you in his arms. You sigh relief at the release of pressure and let him hold you. "Volveré pronto, okay? And then we can do whatever you want."(I'll be back soon) You allow yourself to relax and your eyes flutter shut. Sometimes you wonder how much it'll take for him to stop taking his obsession out on Brooklyn.
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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 2 months
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Smut, vouyerism, 18+, mdni
I mean I had to write a lil something about this unhinged asshole didn't I? Hope you all enjoy 🫶
💕
If Eddie was any longer then there was no way that the two of you would make it to Steve's Halloween party on time. It was nearly time to leave and yet there was no sign of your boyfriend.
Rushing into the trailer you call for him frustrated, "Eddie, babe come on. We're going to be so late"
There's a few seconds of silence and then he comes out of his room adorned in a long white robe with intricate gold detailing at the cuff, he's wearing armour that is also painted in a gorgeous gold shade and a crown of interconnecting leaves on his head.
His feet are adorned in sandals completing the look of Emperor Geta
You gawk at him and his brown eyes flash with something akin to mischief before turning darker as he stares you down, his eyes are smudged with brown shadow and the effect is thrilling.
It's the hair that really takes you aback, his long brown curls are now a fiery shade of red.
"Well fuck me" you whisper and forget all about Steve's party, too focused on this beautiful man to care.
"Oh, I plan to my love but first I think your Emperor is demanding that his needs are taken care of and you want to be a good girl for him don't you?" His voice is cold and cruel, nothing like Eddie's warm tone.
Yes. Yes. He leads you to his room and settled on the bed with his legs spread as he waits for you to pleasure him.
"Dove, get on your knees and pleasure me. We don't want a punishment do we?" his voice is silky and is only making you more aroused as you drop to your knees and eagerly take his throbbing cock in your mouth.
Maybe you show off a tiny bit about how easily you can make Eddie's head throw back in ecstasy and hear his voice whine and moans rumble deep in his chest just with a swipe of your tongue.
Then he stops you and you peer up confused to why, his dark eyes gaze down at you hooded with lust.
"That's enough, he snaps "If I'm going to come then it's deep inside of you while I fill up with my seed. Understand?" You nod and stand up.
"Undress yourself," he orders and you slip off your dress, it leaves you in nothing but tiny panties and heels. Eddie licks his lips and nods in approval.
"Bend over the bend, that's it. Perfect" he hisses and palms your backside with his hand.
The sound of skin slapping and your moans fill the room as he pounds into you. The bed shakes from the sheer force of the thrusts.
"Good girl, you take your Emperor so well don't you?" he hums in approval and his free hand snakes into your hair as he quickens his pace.
The orgasm shatters you and you cry out into the bed as Eddie stills and reaches his orgasm.
That. Was. Amazing.
You're about to say something when you notice Eddie's eyes shining in mischief. "Enjoy the show big boy? stay a while. Wouldn't want you to miss the grand finale"
You let out a little shriek as you notice Steve is standing at Eddie's bedroom door, his mouth hanging open and his cheeks flushed. At the sound of Eddie's voice he practically hightails it from the trailer.
"Suit yourself pretty boy, Eddie shrugs then turns to you,' now where were we?"
💕
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