#and then tragedy happened and they just... did not come through for each other | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

flowersforjude · 2 months

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𝐇𝐞̄𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐫𝐢̄

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Jacaerys Velaryon x Sister!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | During your shared grief, you and Jace find solace in each other.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 3,880

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Mature Content-Explicit Descriptions Of Sex | Twin incest, Emotional hurt/comfort, Grief, Smut: Piv, Oral(fem receiving), Multiple orgasms, Implied loss of virginity, One use of y/n.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | Something I’ve been thinking about since the first episode. Sad sex is something I didn’t know I’d be into, but I’m not mad about it? This obviously isn’t connected to my other Jace fic, Dangerous Disposition, I just used the same name for the reader’s dragon.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞² | Reposting because...I can.

masterlist | read on ao3

Varaxs was restless. The closer you got to Dragonstone, the more ill-at-ease your mount grew. Your boy was a normally calm dragon, but something had him on edge. You were traveling home from The Vale, having secured Lady Arryn’s support for your mother. You would have expected him to be just as anxious as you were to be home after two weeks of treating with Jeyne Arryn.

You were gone longer than the week your mother had allotted, but you wanted to return only with the strongest alliance for her. You had sent word of when she could expect your arrival back, so she did not worry.

The waves crashed against the rocky edges of the island with relentless fury. Seemingly taking after your dragon’s nervous mood. You circled above the palace once, wanting to give him a chance to settle a bit before cooping him up in the pit.

Landing Varaxs on the grassland at the front of the palace, you took notice of how no one awaited you. A pit of dread dug its way into your stomach. Something was the matter.

Your footsteps upon the stairs did nothing to quiet the blood rushing through your ears. Rationality battled with your worry, trying to convince yourself that everything was as it should be.

But once you spotted your cousin Baela as the heavy doors swung open for you, your heart told you nothing short of a tragedy awaited you. The sound of your feet on stones echoed through the entry hall. Baela looked comforted to see you, but her eyes couldn’t hide their distress.

“Cousin,” you greeted with apprehension. “Where-”

“Come.” She simply said, taking your arm to link it with hers.

As she walked you through the halls, your hands shook with the weight of the unknown. “Who is it?” You urged her to tell you.

Baela said nothing. She just looked at you with sympathy before directing you to your mother’s rooms.

Jacaerys was the first person you saw as the doors opened.

“Jace!” You called out to him. He halted his nervous pacing, turning his eyes to you with a relieved gasp.

He met you on the threshold, hands shooting out to draw you to him. “Y/N.” He sighed into your hair as you clutched his shirtfront with trembling hands. His fingers dig into your waist, keeping you from pulling away.

“What has happened?” You whisper urgently into his shoulder.

You heard his breath hitch before he spoke. “Lucerys.”

He needed only to mutter your younger brother’s name for you to realize what was going on. Grief split your chest open as you wailed into the fabric of his shirt. Your lungs seized up in an attempt to draw air.

Another set of arms wrapped around you and Jace.

“My darlings.” Your mother said as she drew her two oldest children to her. No words about alliances were spoken. All thoughts on your shared grief and desperation for the comfort of each other. You stood there wounded around Jace, being held by both him and your mother for a century it felt like. Eventually, your limbs untangle from one another. Your tears stained your cheeks as your heart ached in a way you didn’t know was possible.

Lucerys was born just a year after you and Jace. With only that little time separating you, the three of you had been practically inseparable. Many nights were spent with each of you piled into one of your beds, refusing to sleep anywhere but together. Now you would have to learn to live with the space he left.

“You should go rest.” Your mother said gently, cradling your cheek. Her gaze flickered to Jace. “Both of you. I must attend to the Council before Daemon gets too far ahead of himself.”

“We’ve won The Vale, mother. Your Grace.” You corrected yourself.

She nodded proudly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before doing the same to Jace. You went to reach for your brother’s hand again to take your leave, but your mother stopped him for a moment.

“Watch over your sister.” She whispered to him. “We only have each other.”

He nodded, his face set with determination. He took your hand in his, your fingers linking together tightly. Drawing you closer to his side, as if even an inch of space between you was unthinkable, he began to lead you from the room.

You looked back at your mother one last time, seeing a small, pleased smile spread across her sorrowful expression.

Without a word spoken between you, you and Jace made the walk to his chambers. Your grip on his hand tightened as you crossed the doorway into his room. Your breath still hadn’t fully returned to you, and the same suffocating look mangled your twin’s handsome face.

“Jace.” You spoke with a broken voice before he pulled you to him once again. He took your face in his hands, his eyes roaming wildly over your features like he was attempting to discern if you were truly alright or not.

“I was afraid… I thought…” He couldn’t even give voice to his fears. That you had been slain as well. That he not only lost his brother but his sister too. The girl he loved.

You gripped at his shirt again, needing to touch some part of him with your own hands. “I cannot-” You were breathless, trying to regain control over your emotions. “I cannot breathe; cannot think, Jace.”

You were collapsing into yourself as he surged forward. His lips claimed yours in a way only someone who knew the very essence of your soul could. You whimpered as he slid his hands from your face to secure you against him. Wrapping around your waist like a coil.

You clung to any part of him. His chest, his shoulders, and finally resting your hands in the curls of his hair. His lips molded over yours in a messy display of your desperation to ease some of the hurt with something pleasurable.

Under all your overwhelming feelings, there was a strangeness to having Jace’s mouth on yours. You and your twin had shared a single kiss before. It was your last name day and you had found yourselves with only each other for company. In the darkness of the hall outside your chambers, he had kissed you. It was soft and quick. Nothing like your current hurried hunger.

It felt right in a way nothing else ever had, though. You didn’t know anything beyond that and frankly didn’t wish to.

Soon, the clothes separating you became too great of an annoyance. You let your hands fall from his curls to unfasten the constraints of his doublet. He caught on and went to work on the clasp of your riding gown. Bit by bit, your clothes fell away, bearing you to each other.

“My heart fell from my chest when I returned, and you had not.” Jace told you as he slid his hands up your sides. You sighed when he started to undo the laces of your shift. He pulled the fabric from your body pressing heavy kisses across your collarbone to your shoulder. He dropped to his knees to continue his path down your chest to your stomach.

Wanting to see him as well, you reached down to pull his shirt over his head. He helped you by yanking it off once you got it over his shoulders. He switched his focus from kissing your skin to the laces of your riding trousers. Pulling the strings undone before shuffling them down your legs. His eyes never leave yours. He stopped for a moment once they and your boots were off, taking you in bare before him. His gaze was drawn to the space between your legs. It was tinted with a pink blush. He just looked for a moment before standing in a rush. Kicking off his boots and then hurriedly working the laces of his pants open.

His lips devoured yours once more. Bringing your naked body flush with his. His cock rested against his stomach, rigid with want.

“I need you, Jace.” You pleaded into his mouth. Both knowing and not knowing what you were begging for. All you knew was the chasm of emptiness that grew larger every second. And the fact that Jace and only Jace could make you whole again.

Circling an arm snuggly about your waist, he picked you up. Lips still pressing into yours with a frantic need as he made his way over to the bed. Tipping you down and gently situating you atop the covers.

Opening your legs, you welcomed him as he settled between them. Hips flush with yours, and his hands going to thread through your hair. Pulling on the strands to tip your head back so he could gain access to your throat. He placed harsh, bruising kisses along the column of your neck, making you gasp when he grazed the flesh with his teeth.

You were dizzy with desire and desperation. “You can never abandon me. Swear, naejot issa. Kivio issa īlon jāhor va moriot sagon hēnkirī.” (Swear, to me. Promise me we will always be together.) His cock rocked against your bundle of nerves, making that abyss of hollowness grow larger with yearning.

“I swear it,” he vowed. “I will never part from you again.” He kissed a burning path down your body. From the pulse of your throat to the valley between your breasts to your stomach. And finally, nudging your legs further apart to continue his exploration to the sensitive skin on the inside of your thighs.

You hadn’t noticed he’d gotten off the bed until he pulled your legs to dangle from the edge. You looked down and met his eyes as he kneeled before you. A question waited on your lips, but before you could voice it, Jace lowered his head to press the lightest of kisses to your center.

Any and all inquiries dissipated from thought as his tongue flicked against your pearl. His movement was hesitant, as if testing the waters of the newly discovered thirst for each other. He didn’t stop, though. His tongue returned to rake across your cunt. Licking a wide stripe from your entrance to your clit.

A gasp tore from your mouth. Your reaction seemed to encourage him as he took a second taste of you. He then wrapped his mouth around your bud, swiping his tongue over it as he gently sucked at it.

You whine at his touch, fists clutching the sheets at first, but then deciding that’s not enough. Your fingers find themselves in his hair once again. He switched from using his tongue to taking your clit in his mouth every few seconds. Not giving you time to grow used to anything he was doing. A particularly harsh tug on your pearl had your legs closing around his head.

Moving from your clit, Jace turned his attention to your entrance. Sliding his tongue between your folds, gathering your arousal with groans sounding from him. Your back arched to move closer to his face.

“Jace!” A shameless moan slipped from your mouth. You couldn’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed of the sounds he was pulling from you. Every pull and tug of his mouth on your center filled that chasm inside of you just a little bit more.

His nose nudged against your clit as he dipped his tongue briefly inside your entrance. The sensation was quick, but it had a whimper slipping past your lips and your nails digging themselves into his scalp.

Jace felt the tiny pinpricks of your nails but made no indication of discomfort. No, instead, the pain aided in driving him farther away from the cliff he dangled from. Losing himself in you as opposed to losing himself to grief or anger. The breathy gasps and whines he took from you, he collected as glittering treasures. You were perfection in his eyes; you always had been. And now he was able to show you.

The light flickering of his tongue across your clit was driving you mad. The feeling was heavy, and it was accompanied by a pool of molten fire growing in the pit of your stomach. It spilled from you, only to be collected by Jace’s tongue. He couldn’t even think about letting a single drop go to waste. He hummed against your cunt as he drank from you, his grip on your thighs becoming impossibly tight. Still switching between lapping at your entrance, to teasing your clit with the lightest jolts of pleasure. You could do nothing but lay there and whine at his every movement. Your head turning from side to side restlessly, hips moving not but an inch in his hold.

The low groans sounding from him every time you tugged on his curls only fueled your desperation. There was a cord drawn taunt in your belly, begging to be snapped free. Each kiss and pull on your pearl wound the cord tighter and tighter.

You glanced down and caught his gaze from between your legs. His eyes were dark with lust and desire as he continued his sweet torture on your cunt. “Please, Jace. Just…oh gods.” You breathed out, noticing a satisfied glint in his dark eyes.

A smirk you’ve only seen on rare occasions made an appearance, your pleading appeasing him on some level. He pressed a worshiping kiss to your clit making you jerk away from his lips slightly. “Beg like that some more, and I’ll give you anything.” His voice was low and coaxing.

You wiggled your hips, growing more and more desperate for that cord to release. And Jace found no issue with teasing you with it. “Please.” You sighed, fingers digging farther in his curls, trying to move him closer to you. “I need it, Jace. Please.”

Who was he to deny such a saccharine request from you of all people? His sweet princess, who deserved nothing less than reverence.

The peak was just within your grasp. You just needed a little bit more.

A loud cry tore from your lips as Jace took your pearl back into his mouth. He scraped it with his teeth, whether on purpose or by accident, you did not know. But by the gods, it felt good. His lips pursed around it, suckling and running his tongue over the bundle of nerves at the same time.

There was an obsessive determination in his ministrations. That unquenchable hunger strengthened its hold on him. His tongue lapping over your clit then moving to tease your entrance. His teeth kept catching on your pearl. Your thighs closing around his head told you the release was coming upon you quickly.

“Jacaerys,” you whispered breathlessly. He buried his face into your cunt, impossibly closer. The fire spilled over, causing high-pitched whines to leave your lips. As roll after roll of pleasure went through you, he continued to drink you in. Helping the bliss to stretch out longer. It lingered for a few more moments, making your thighs twitch with Jace’s head still between them.

You looked down with hazy eyes, but you could still make out the sheen of your arousal upon his face. The almost drunk look in his eyes as he rested his cheek against your thigh.

He held your gaze for a time before standing. You moved to lay back on the pillows as he rounded to the side of the bed to join you.

Now that the blazing pleasure had subsided almost completely, that emptiness returned with vengeance. Jace had laid beside you, making no movement to continue onto other things. He only pulled the blankets up to cover you. But you couldn’t stop the ache from spreading.

Grief dug its claws into your heart again. Piercing you until the pain was unbearable. You didn’t allow yourself time to think before you pushed the blankets from you, reaching out for Jace.

You pulled him down for a kiss, your arms going around his neck. He returned your affection. His lips slotted over yours and his hands coming to rest on your waist tugging you to him. The second his mouth left yours to trail down your neck, a small sob broke free.

Jace’s head shot up at the sound, eyes filling with worry. “What is it?” He asked.

You shook your head, not able to give words to the grief.

Understanding replaced the concern as Jace nodded once. “I feel it too,” he confessed. “What can I do to help?”

What can I do to help?

It brought more tears to your eyes to hear Jace’s selflessness. No thought for his own sadness; just wanting to rid you of yours.

You kissed him again, slowly this time. “Just make it go away.” You pleaded, angling your hips to press against his.

He hitched one of your legs around his hips, aligning your bodies perfectly together. Your hands danced up his arms before settling around his shoulders. Your mouths molded together, igniting the hearth of your desire for each other.

The ridgid hardness of his cock pressed into you. His breathing quickened each time you shifted your hips, trying to find some kind of friction. Soft groans slipped from his mouth to yours. He braced his weight on his forearms by your head before guiding the tip of his length just slightly into your cunt.

He looked up at you from where your bodies were joining. A question he didn’t need to voice for you to hear in his eyes. Nodding your head to let him know it was alright, that you were alright, he pressed forward. He was sure to be careful with you; your desperation not enough reason to risk hurting you.

His cock pressed deeper and deeper into you, the feeling of being split apart burning through you. But there was an underlying pleasure that came with the stretch.

A sharp exhale escaped both of you as he finally seated himself fully inside you. His arms trembled with the work of holding himself still. The blissful feeling he had was overwhelming, but he had to think of you.

Something tore inside you as he shifted, drawing out and then back in slightly. The burn was still there, but the feeling of him filling you was all you could think about. Every corner and crevice of your being was nothing but Jace. You realized that even if tragedy had not driven you both to this, you would have found your way to it eventually. There wasn’t a world where you didn’t belong to him, and he didn’t belong to you.

After checking to be sure you were ready, he pulled back slowly and began to move in a languid rhythm. You sighed out his name as you wrapped your other leg around his waist. Hands in his hair tugged at the strands, drawing a hissed curse he spoke into the crook of your neck. Your lower back arched to meet his sluggish thrusts.

Your name fell from his mouth like a needy prayer, sending a shiver through you. Your body reacts to the feel of him by erupting goosebumps down your spine.

He pressed kisses to your throat, nipping at the skin here and there. He reached a place where your shoulder and neck met, drawing the skin between his teeth. You gasped a little as he settled there.

“Jace!” You keened as he picked up his pace. The sounds of your coupling bringing a blush to your cheeks. You let one hand fall from his hair to search for his. He tangled your fingers together before flattening your joined hands beside your head and pressing them into the mattress.

Your core clenched around him suddenly, causing his breath to be stolen momentarily. He moaned lowly, thrusting into you harder, hitting against some spot deep within you that had you crying out and clenching around him again.

He looked up from your neck, locking his eyes with yours. “Ao issi ñuhon. Ao’ve va moriot issare ñuhon, pār īlon drew īlva ēlī breaths hēnkirī.” (You are mine. You’ve always been mine, since we drew our first breaths together.)

He quickened his pace more, driving into you in a way that would surely leave you sore. But you didn’t dare tell him to slow down. Chasing his strokes, you rolled your hips up to meet his, sighing as he squeezed your hand with his.

Jace had always thought you to be beautiful, but there was something otherworldly about seeing you like this. Writhing and crying out beneath him. Breathless as you greedily took the pleasure he gave you. He meant what he had said too; you were his. You came into the world together; it was only right that you remained linked throughout your lives. When he reached his hand up to withdraw yours from his hair to press it into the mattress, he imagined a ring resting on your fourth finger. The thought had him shuddering as he steadily thrusted into you.

Time lost all meaning, and neither of you had any way of knowing how much had passed. But when Jace’s pace started to falter, you knew he was close. You could tell he was trying to compose himself, maintain what control he had left. But you wanted to see him unravel. He tensed his jaw, breathing harshly through his nose. His brows were drawn together, and he had little will to put up a fight when you pulled him down for a kiss.

“Hēnkirī.” (Together.) You whispered into his mouth. “I want to do it together.”

He nodded, trailing a hand down to rub at your clit. A few more moments of Jace rocking into you, combined with his fingers on you, drove you to the end. He followed with a broken moan muffled into your neck. You felt his cock throbbing within you, thrusting gently once, twice, three times before he pulled out.

You panted heavily, his breaths ghosting across your heated skin. You threaded your fingers through his hair as you both took some time to come down from your shared high.

A giggle came from you when he began to softly kiss on your collarbone. You could feel him smile a little as he pressed his lips to you a few more times before raising his head to look at you.

His expression was one of affection, but there was a question swimming in his gaze as well. “Do you feel better?” He asked, not really knowing how to broach the subject just yet.

“I don’t want to talk about it yet.” You answered, not wanting to risk dispelling this illusive moment. Simply wishing to lay here with Jace for as long as you could and not think about anything. Because you were sure that as soon as you left this room, reality would come rushing back in.

Jace nodded in understanding before resting his head on your chest. “It can wait until tomorrow,” he agreed.

You wish you could stop time completely or turn it back. But you couldn’t, and all you could do was cling to Jace’s comfort until the pain came knocking again.

I debated heavily on posting this or not, but I don't have anything else ready to post so enjoy!

#house of the dragon #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x y/n #jacaerys velaryon x you #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys x you #jacaerys x y/n #jacaerys targaryen #hotd jacaerys

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belovedcloud · 3 months

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Such A Sweetheart

pairing: sugar daddy! leon kennedy x fem! reader

✎ synopsis: you need money quick, and what's a good way of getting quick money? a sugar daddy. you find a man but he treats you so good that maybe this may blossom into something other than a transactional relationship?

✎ notes: this is a longgggg one, i decided to try making a long one and writing this up at work every day for weeks was a struggle but i did it! if only sugar daddy leon was real :(

➤ WC: 10K

➤ CW: age gap, reader is in low 20's whilst leon is low 40's, talks about leon's alcohol struggles and practically his life, reader wears a dress, oral, fingering, dirty talk kinda??? not really, lots of kisses, maybe something more than a sugar daddy and sugar baby relationship, p in v, cumming on you, fluff at the end.

MINORS DNI!

Leon Scott Kennedy was a dirty man. That's how he saw himself. The masses of bioweapons he killed every mission tarnished his being. There was no escape for him. Nothing could save him from what he saw fit for his life. All he could ever be was tool for the government, someone who they could rely on each time to discard the tragedies of the world. They didn't care who they affected, as long as the government were safe that's all that mattered.

Leon knew that. He knew he wouldn't be able to leave. Leaving the job behind was a massive no. What if something happened? What if another incident like Raccoon City occurred?

He was bound to everything of horror. Gore, blood, death. He had seen it all, he had experienced it all. The killings of his superior, Jack Krauser alongside the dumpster of death that trailed beside Leon. It was his shadow. All he could do was bare with it. Nothing could save him, until you came around.

You needed money - just being able to live was costly and jobs were going left, right and centre. No matter what you did, you couldn't grab a job. It was out of your reach. You flooded every company with applications; they were bound to have known you by now. Despite that, an interview was never handed to you. Rent was coming up and what else could you do?

Find a sugar daddy? It was your only choice so... yeah. You were going to find a sugar daddy.

Doing some research and finding out that there were multiple sites to find one. Clicking on the top site, sugardaddykwiky.com, brought you to profiles of many men. Many older men. You weren't going to be picky, there was no time to pick and choose who you wanted.

Clicking on your profile, you start to upload pictures of yourself. No explicit ones, just ones of your face and a safe for work full body image of yourself. Furthermore, to try and attract more men you type a little description about you. This would entice for men right? Soon enough, your little question was answered. Yes. Men flooded your messages, nearly all of them sending the same message of 'Hey' with a pet name in front of it. Maybe you were going to be picky, they all weren't that attractive. Extremely plain and non-lovable.

Reminding yourself that this wasn't a dating site but a site of seeking money you required, your fingers continued to scroll until a request popped up at the top of the screen.

['LSKENNEDY' wants to chat!]

Leon was shitting himself. He didn't know why or how he was so nervous but it was linked to you. You looked so sweet and innocent, no explicit images nor anything sexual of the sort. It wasn't his type of thing to see tits shoved in his face or somebodies legs spread across the camera. You were different. It was as though you weren't just selling your body to get quick cash.

Scrolling down he read your interests. His eager eyes scanning through your description once then again, and again. Continuously reading before taking a glance at the few pictures he was granted to see of you. He drank in your face, such pretty features plastered on you made his heart flutter.

If you were to take him as your sugar daddy, he made a mental promise to himself that he would take you out on countless dates. Spoil you rotten until you couldn't take it anymore. All it came down to was luck.

Leon was lonely. He was a lonely man. The thought of you brought a sliver of solace into his body. Perhaps you could distract him from chaotic life he lived in. Leon craved love not lust. A deep groan left his lips as he knocked back another glass of whiskey. The malty liquid seeping into the lines of his lips, travelling down his throat. His phone was no longer bright, it was pitch black. A reminder of how his life was.

Before Raccoon City, Leon dreamt one day he would find a love that would course though his life. A deep affection that would last for many years. Decades even. The proposal of a family was always deep in Leon's mind when he was younger. Sure, it was stored away as he didn't find himself to be fit for family life at such a young age... But he knew he would want one some day.

That suggestion slowly dissipated when he gradually got older. He still kept some of his features, that being his dirty blonde hair or his baby blue eyes. But they were permanent. His youthful skin creased and aged overtime and a stern look was etched into face. Completely juxtaposing what he looked like 20 years ago. Yet, your face lingered in his mind as he downed another glass of whiskey.

His phone still remained off as he stared into the wall in front of him. To any normal person it would have been a blank chantry coloured wall. Leon saw it differently as depictions of you clouded his head and vision.

What the fuck was going on with him?

Was this a joke? He believed it was his mind playing tricks on him due to excessive amount of alcohol he consumed. Even after chugging a glass of water to try and sober himself, he still saw you. It annoyed him but not only annoyance filled him. A sense of peace too. The two feelings juxtaposed each other, as if they were fighting to see who would win.

Leon got up, trying to distract the inner conflict he faced. Closing the curtains and sitting in a room of absolute darkness. To no avail the image of you popped up. A growl scrapped his lips as he rubbed his face. His body slouched on the couch, rolling his head back as another noise vacated from him.

He had to do something.

Smacking down the couch he sat on with his calloused hand, he yearned to find his phone. The device jumped up slightly from the force of Leon's actions - soon enough he snatched it up. His thumbpad drummed the screen twice, the light penetrating his eyes as he staggered to find the power button.

"Fucking hell.." A squinted look appeared on his face whilst he scrolled the brightness down. Leon's dull eyes pried at his device, swiping up just to see you again. Fuck. He didn't delete the tab.

You looked gorgeous. An angel in his eyes. Even though you were young and in your low 20's. His mind processed the information once again. Should he feel ashamed? Disgusted? Was he at fault for wanting something romantic with you - even if you were 2 decades younger than him? Surely not, you were of legal age and willing put yourself on the website. The underlying feeling of guilt was questionable to him.

This wasn't wrong per se. It just felt like it.

His leg quivered slightly, his calve continuously smacking the bottom of his couch. Leon's eyes peered into the screen. Why was he so nervous? Get a grip, he thought to himself. A deep sigh left his lips as minutes passed - no response from you.

Your eyes flickered on his profile, an older man of course but... God was he handsome. His blue eyes called out to you, alluring you in to look at his other features. How was a man so beautiful? Early 40's nor did his description have anything sexual. It was quite basic - the perception of secrecy interweaved in it.

Nervously, the pads of your fingers moved subconsciously. Your body scrambled into your bed. The comfort of it didn't ease your heart as you clicked [Accept Request].

Leon's fingers kept refreshing the website to see if you had accepted his request. To his surprise and pleasure, you did. His heart pounded deeply within him, his shaky movements transferred himself into the chat. The miniature profile icon of your face made him go into awe. Your face was truly hypnotic. His lips pressed against the rim of his glass, shakily holding it to his lips to a point where the glass clattered against his teeth.

Leon decided the best option was to at least start the conversation off. What could he say? Perhaps the best option would to go down the basic route, however, by now you must have had multiple men just saying the same thing over and over again. His gaze focused on his phone, his eyes practically burning through the keyboard glazing over the letters trying to figure out a way to wow you.

The constant overthinking led him to not even figuring out a message to send you as your chat-box appeared on his mobile. Frowning to himself, he thought he was pathetic to a point where he couldn't even type to you. He wasn't this nervous in real life so what was going on now? In others eyes, he had charisma even when talking to a few women... But even a simple text message to you and he was about to piss himself.

Your fingers swiftly left a message, you even felt yourself getting nervous. The other chats you faced with different men usually led to the route of using your body to please them. Or they sent their half limped dick positioned in the middle of their palm trying to turn you on. It could be that this Leon Kennedy guy would contrast them. A twinge of hope stay put in your heart to hope so.

After all, he was hot.

You: hi! :)

Leon: Hey sweetheart, how are you?

It was a basic way to start of the conversation. Pretty pathetic in Leon's eyes but he had no idea on what else he could say. A shaky breath left his lips, adjusting himself on his couch trying to get cozy. The pads of his fingers tapping impatiently on the phone case. The inkling of worry still lingered within him as his mind reminded him of your age.

Instantly, a message came through on his behalf. Leon wasted no time to read over your message, he felt like a teenage boy again.

'For Christ sake... Keep it together.'

You: i'm alright, i saw that you aren't really like those other men on here. you're not like showing your dick in your profile or something.

A low laugh erupted from Leon's lips. You did see him different and honestly good. He wasn't one for going straight into the sexual stuff. Even at his age, early 40's and all, he still craved the affection you would receive in a normal relationship. He knew the love would be dependent on the money he sent you - it was better than no love at all.

Typing back with a small smile on his face, his legs uncontrollably stood him up. He walked over to his room, the light thud following him ominously. A dim light covered his figure as he sat down on the edge of his bed, hitting send.

Leon: We'd only get into that if you want to, but I prefer us to know each other a bit more. Don't you?

To say Leon was correct was an understatement, it was like a breath of fresh air. Whilst you wouldn't mind getting in his pants, for a man to not want sex sex sex was refreshing. Yes, it was the bare minimum. Did it make you way more interested though? Absolutely.

A giddy wave of happiness spread into your veins as you kicked your legs up and down. An actual conversation! You could even feel yourself becoming slightly turned on. A little wet patch forming in the middle of your panties. God.. Was this really happening now? Getting turned on by the bare minimum a man could offer?

You: yeah, i would honestly :) it's really refreshing to see someone wanting to talk

The conversation prolonged for an hour or two, both of you understanding the boundaries that Leon and you put place to make this agreement as comfortable as possible. Nonetheless, you were happy with how he was and Leon was ecstatic to know you better. Regardless of the cost that came with it.

He believed that a person like you deserved to spoilt rotten. Just the way you acted with such grace - you were heavenly. Someone who he was happy enough to show you the wonders that money could give you. Alongside his love, but Leon was nervous. He was nervous that you wouldn't understand why he would be gone for days at a time with no response. There was no way in hell he would be able to just tell you straight up that he worked for the DSO. Let alone that he killed B.O.W's.

He pushed his thoughts aside realizing he hadn't even told you how much he would pay you for your time with him. Texting a quick message, he chewed on his bottom lip. The dull ache of it pumping, giving it a faux heartbeat. Pressing send, he groaned into his pillow. The scent of soft linen contrasted the smell of alcohol that loitered on his bedside table. His backup bottle of whiskey awaiting for him to gulp it down like usual.

Instead he resisted, not relying on the alcohol to knock him out. Leon didn't want to drink himself to sleep like usual, he wanted to chat to you a little longer.

It was hard for him to get used to the slang and language you used, back in the 90's the way of communication was way different. After a few key points of explaining he got the meaning of it all. Reminiscing on what you both were talking about moments before - he read back his last message.

Leon: So how much money do you want for your time?

A very simple question for a very simple answer. Wrong. Not in your eyes anyways. You felt bad if you requested too much, you didn't even know how much he made nor how much he had currently. This in itself was the riskiest part of the deal. Would he think you were just a gold digger? Genuine fear paced around you, he wasn't a man who you just wanted to fuck to get money from. Perhaps you were being delusional but you seriously wanted to get to know him. Even perhaps have a relationship blossom between the both of you. Or was that too much to ask for?

Being a sugar baby wasn't toilsome. Whilst you would make him happy, he would reward you with gifts, money.. deep down you even wanted some pleasure. Plausibly, you began to think that Leon would think you were some brat. Even to a point where he'd believe you were some dumb bimbo cock slut who needed cash.

Shit. You needed to reply quick.

Leon was wondering to himself if he did something wrong. Was his question too straight-forward? Too dry? He was always told he wasn't the best at texting. That his texting habits seemed as though he was uninterested at any topic he would text about. He blinked continuously at the screen, this was his first time even trying to get a sugar baby. Were you no longer interested?

He needed your attention, after getting to know you over text he longed to understand more of you. What was it you really wanted? Cash or love? Was it that you were corroded with lust and needed to get dicked down or did you want something romantic? In all honestly both options together sounded like the perfect relationship to Leon. A couple who would love each other both ways, sexually and romantically. That's how a relationship works right? In his eyes anyways.

Leon's mind was clouded with random scenarios of you and him both. He wanted to try all of them out, some less naughty than others but all of them were good in his eyes. Shopping dates getting what you wanted or his head between your thighs giving you what you needed. He felt his jeans tighten around his crotch area. Fuck. Was he really getting off to the idea of just making you happy? Leon's hand travelled down to his bulge. A light squeeze only makes it harden more - can you blame him? You were so beautiful and all he wanted was to treat you right.

A heavy groan elicited out of Leon's throat, waiting for you to respond as he tried to calm himself down. He yearned for your answer. The bouncing of the 3 dots encased around a text bubble enabled Leon to let out a sigh of relief. Taking a deep breath, he eagerly watched for the message he needed.

You: i really don't mind, i don't want to seem greedy or anything so you can choose how much to give me! :)

Shit. How sweet could a girl be? Not only did you agree to be his sugar baby but you didn't mind how much he would pay you for your time? Leon's throat was dry as he took in another breath, trying to calm the bundle of nerves rising inside of his body. His fingers lightly tapped the glass screen in front of him, juxtaposing his thudding heart.

Being a government agent, despite all the trauma from his missions and the devastating events such as in Spain or in China. It gives a hefty sum of money. With the title of 'Government Agent' hung over him, he could afford to spend thousands on you. And he would.

Leon: Don't worry love, how about $1000 for our first meet up? Plus I'll get you whatever you want after a nice lunch. How does that sound?

$1000?! That was basically your rent done minus some utility bills. For one day? Not even a day, a few hours! That was more than what any job paid you for 2 weeks. Shuffling to lay comfortable in your bed, your fingers uncontrollably type a message to Leon showing your thanks to his generosity.

You: $1000?? you really don't have to give me that much but if you do then i really appreciate it! when are you next free?

A small smile appeared on Leon's lips as he read your text back, his body slightly shook from excitement as his eyes traced over your message. He was free most of the time... Well, when he wasn't fighting for his life that is. Leon's missions were quite sporadic at times, not allowing him to have a proper work schedule. In this situation, it was an annoying thing to explain - nonetheless, he wouldn't be able to tell you about it just yet.

His job was risky. Risky business that he didn't want to get you involved in.

Something always hung above Leon's head. Never one in his life after 1998 did he get any peace of mind. It was pure torture to live sometimes. A straight bullet in the head would have ended everything for him. Within Leon, there was a feeling of perseverance He wasn't allowed to die. Who else could kill the bioweapons and destructive beings that tormented the planet? If only he didn't sign up to go to Raccoon City. That fateful night changed his whole perspective on life. A renewed thought process that could kill the normal human. He himself didn't understand how he could cope. The only answer to him was alcohol, day and night. Bottles stashed in places to feed into his intoxicated addiction.

It saved him; it killed him.

You could perhaps cure the chaos and wreck that occurred in his mind. He was fixated on you. Purely you. He would guide you through the sugar baby life, hand you anything you wanted. Just for your love. Whether or not it was real love, Leon didn't seem to mind. Well - not on the surface at least.

Alone in his apartment, slowly becoming uncomfortable with the solitude that laid next to him. He typed out a message, hoping to see you tomorrow. Next week at the latest. Leon needed a change from his mundane life. Only you could expedite a change within his character.

You were the answer.

Leon: I'm free tomorrow, I can pick you up at noon.

Trailing over the message, you couldn't wait to see him. The whole purpose of tonight was to find a sugar daddy, you got one but he seemed different. Separate from the other lustful men you met on this site. In fact he was different from any man you have ever met. The long hours of the night that you usually had was replaced with a conversation that uplifted your mood and your bank.

Nimble fingers tapped on the keyboard, the phone screen lighting up your face - highlighting the little upturned expression you had plastered on. Impatient to see Leon, you send a fast response back. Demonstrating your need to meet him.

You: okay! i'll see you then, goodnight <3

Feeling happy in your heart, it seemed as though he filled a little hole in your heart. As well as the dissipating view of constant stress you had thinking about your rent due for the month. Things finally started lifting up for you. Maybe now you wouldn't think that you were going to develop wrinkles and grey hairs at such an early age. Being a sugar baby didn't seem all that bad. Flourishing at such a young age without the worry of lack of money seemed good in your books. Granted that others may think lowly of you, who were you to care about someone else's opinion when you prosper in the generosity that Leon was going to bring to you.

A impending thought built within you. This was morally right... right? Taking a lonely mans money didn't really feel like the best idea especially when reading back on the conversation you realized he wasn't some sex freak. He just craved to love and be loved. Were you able to bring him that satisfaction?

A soft smile appeared on Leon's face as he read your message, tomorrow he would be able to meet you. See that pretty face that he's been thirsting to look at for the past few hours of chatting. His fingers constantly tapping on the mini picture next to your chats to zoom into your face. He couldn't get enough of you. His mind purely fixated on you and only you. Was this a curse or a blessing?

Once switching off his phone, he again sat in isolation. Dejection spread all over him as a deep sigh scraped his throat. Why was he always so alone? Even laying in bed for an hour never made it warm, his side cold and the empty space next to him was practically frozen. Leon was going through a rough patch in his life - this patch being 20 years was excessive but he honestly couldn't get out of it. Chained down to his own solitude and remoteness of his home was too much.

Too much for a singular man who just wanted a family of his own one day.

Laying in his own self loathing, Leon breaths slowly mellowed. Keeping himself calm, taking his mind off you slightly - attempting to sleep. To no avail, he still couldn't tranquil his racing heart. A shaky breath soon followed as he crumbled into the soft sheets he bought for himself. Rich and silky cloth immersed his silhouette, his hand over his chest. Leon could feel his heart. Pumping and pumping, the skittish irregular heart embodied his attitude to the situation at hand. Fluttering his eyelids shut, the scenarios of you and him started all over again. Just this time, they felt more real. You were within his reach as his mind continue to run with excitement, love and pure unadulterated desire.

That night, he didn't have a nightmare. No horror; no fear. There wasn't a dream per se, it was just a night of sleep.

Leon's face wasn't twisted with a frown, his lips were slightly parted. Slowly drying as he huffed out a few breaths in his sleep. Dirty blonde locks covering his eyes as a peaceful expression smothered him. The recurring night terrors of Raccoon City didn't appear tonight. Nightmarish prospects didn't shine through his soundless mind to haunt him. The zombies? Gone. The blood? Gone. All remained was a man who just deserved tranquility.

Tonight, he got what he was entitled to.

The blinding sun peeked through Leon's blinds, his body thanked him for the rest. No aching muscles like usual, he leisurely pried his eyes open, a quiet yawn eliciting out of his mouth. God, how late was it? Leon stretched his body whilst he adjusted himself to the light shining through, practically blinding him at first. His fingers tapped against the smooth wood nightstand as he searched for his phone wearily. Clasping his hand around the device he held it to his chest, switching it on to check the time. The bold numbers spoke to him, highlighting 09:30 AM.

Groaning to himself, he got up rubbing his eyes tiredly. Leon got a full nights rest. Unusual but needed a small smile laced his face as he realized what he had to do today. He was going to see you for the first time.

Swinging his legs out of bed, cracking a few places in his bed. A sigh of relief left his lips. Getting up was always the hardest part of his day but today it was the easiest knowing he was looking forward to something which wasn't work related. This time, it was to seek your love, to treat you to whatever you wanted - he was happy to do that. Overjoyed even.

For you it was no different, well except your rapid heartbeat when you realized that this was real. That you were going to see your sugar daddy. Could you even call him that right now? You had to ensure that you looked your greatest for today, it was the least you could do as this man was literally paying you for being there.

Doing your casual routine was normal as usual, your fingers just a little bit shaky from the nerves that coursed through your veins. Hindering your movements slightly as you felt yourself get jumpier by the second. Going through your closet, you choose something you don't really seem to wear often. A dress. A flowy one, he'd like that right? Taking a wild guess and praying to whoever is above you threw it on and fixed up your hair. Midway through, the mobile device on the counter buzzed, catching your attention.

Rinsing and drying your hands, you snatched the phone up and inspected the notification that stood out to you. It was him. You felt your body heating up, your eyes tracing the message.

Leon: I'm outside sweetheart, hope you sent me the right address. :)

Fuck. Outside already? You retract that statement as you swiped down to check the time. Oh. It was already noon. Checking yourself in the mirror, your legs rush downstairs as you put on a pair of heels. You had psych yourself up to even see him. Looking through the little peephole, you saw him.

He was just as handsome as he was online. Even more so in real life. Your heart was pounding, he could probably hear it across the door. Tremulously, your fingers wrapped around your door handle, slightly pushing it down to open the door. Fuck, you got this. It was only a date, and all you had to do was act normal. Normal and sweet. Leon picked you for a reason!

The moment he saw you, his breath hitched. He nearly choked with the air that stood in his throat, his eyes travelling down your figure with the dress that hugged your curves but still flowed with the slight current hitting your body. Leon couldn't believe it, seeing you was heaven right in front of him. A sense of desire permeated his body, longing to touch you. To make you his - he had to stay put. For his own sake.

"Wow, uh hi." A mumble left Leon's throat soon after he cleared it. Nervous couldn't even elucidate his very being after being blessed to even look at you. It wasn't only him with a stomach full of knots wondering if this day was going to turn south.

"Hey, you look... good?" You chuckled out awkwardly. Great start. Embarrassed within yourself, you try and think of something else to say but Leon's words cut through your thoughts. His voice is smooth and rich, like honey, a slight rasp laced in the tone which allures you in.

"Thank you sweetheart, you look beautiful." Too beautiful. His hands slightly twitched, a hunger in Leon wanting to ravish you as his eyes inadvertently trailed down your figure again. Heat bloomed in both of you, eyes practically fucking each other but who was going to act first?

Taking you to his car, Leon's hand glided over the passenger door handle, opening it up for you. A small smile plastered on his lips as his gravelly voice welcomed you in. The leather feel of the car seat hugged your body, adjusting yourself to strap yourself in. Leon soon entered after as he pulled the seatbelt over himself - turning on the ignition at the same time. A comfortable silence hung in the air as the vehicle took you to where Leon wanted to treat you. One hand on the wheel and the other clasping the gearshift to make the ride as smooth as possible.

"Do you want lunch first or do you want to go shopping?" His voice sliced through the tranquility that once lay around you both. Oh wow, so he was serious on treating you? Fiddling with your thumbs you wondered to yourself how you should answer him. Your stomach answered for you very quietly as you looked out the window.

"Lunch, if that's okay?" Your response back made Leon smile as he took a swift turn left, rolling into a small family owned diner. The aesthetically pleasing restaurant enticed you as he guided you inside. Opening the door for you and making the cliché comment 'Ladies first.' The place itself was cozy and warm, a welcoming aura embedded within it as you sat down at one of the booths. Leon, sat across from you, couldn't help but flicker his gaze on you every once in a while as you looked on the menu.

"Found anything you like?" He asked as he flipped through the menu himself, eyeing on the steak pictured in the booklet. His blue eyes soon bored into yours when you met his gaze. A soft smile resting on your face.

"Yeah, I think I know what I want." The softness of your voice was a melody to Leon. A voice that could calm him down even when he felt so nervous just seeing you. A channel of peace that he needed, a tune that could calm him even through the horrors that he faced.

Lunch went smoothly, the chatter amongst you two eased out into a blossoming relationship. Far better than just texting over two measly devices. Leon's gaze wondered over you as you spoke, completely in awe as he thanked himself for going on the website yesterday night. Your beauty surpassed all beings, inside and out you were gorgeous in his eyes. The interests you both shared in music tastes, hobbies and whatnot brought you both together. As if there was chemistry between you two, that idea that you already knew each other so well. You didn't just seem like a sugar baby in his eyes - you were someone who he sought love in. A person who Leon wanted to cherish in every way. The same concept lingered within you too, his presence calmed you down but comforted you in ways you didn't know were possible. He was your sugar daddy, yours.

Still, you and Leon wanted something more with each other. Desires that needed to be satiated soon.

Leon's card pinged as he paid for the meal, the waiter giving his thanks for the generous tip he left. Seeing him waltz off with the tray in his hand. Love filled your body watching Leon treat others so nicely. Fuck. You were falling fast. Too fast that it was scarily fun. His dirty blonde hair covering his eyes ever so slightly, his clean hands slotting the card back into his wallet. The slight veins protruding out, allowing your eyes to travel up his exposed forearms. Moles littered all over them alongside some arm hair.

His watch gleamed from the LED lights above you both, your eyes trailed all over him. This didn't go unnoticed as a little smirk plastered Leon's face. He was about to speak until the waiter came back.

"Here, it's on the house. Candy bags for both of you." The waiter grinned, placing two bags of candy in front of you. Candy? I mean, free candy is always nice. Thank you's left your mouth and Leon inspected the candy inside. Lollipops, hard candy, chewy... Before he looked up, he heard a wrapper rustle.

Your fingers tugged on the wrapper of the lollipop, undressing it for the ball of sugar that stood on a stick. His eyes gazed as you popped it in your mouth. A soft hum of approval muffled between the lollipop and your lips. Those soft plump lips that Leon kept looking at. A pang of jealousy flowed in his veins as he saw the way your tongue swirled the lollipop.

This was going to be a long day.

The ride to the mall was short, the same lollipop in your mouth as your tongue slowly was painted it's colour. You knew the effect you had on him, your head went crazy seeing his eyes glance at you often. No longer to your body, but to those pretty lips you had wrapped around your lollipop. Teasing him a bit more, a quick kitten lick around it made Leon suppress back a groan. Biting his lip hard and snapping his head the other way - pleading to whoever was up there to help him breathe a little.

Delving back into the bag, you grabbed two more lollipops as the mall was close. A small smirk thinning out your lips. Putting them into your purse, the drive came to a close. Leon shifted slightly to ease the stress in his pants. A bit too tight for his liking. Clicking the button, the seatbelt unraveled itself as he got out of his car. Walking over to the passenger side, opening the door up for you.

Taking your hand into his, he guided you out the vehicle, his other arm wrapping around your waist - his hand lightly squeezing it. The large establishment shadowed over you both whilst you walked towards it. Your heart pacing quickening with each step, Leon's hold on you was comforting yet enchanting. An immeasurable thirst building within you.

Shop after shop, Leon's hands started to become full of strings that held up the bags of clothing, makeup and whatnot you decided to get. No objections left him as you picked up something. You want it? You get it. Being treated to that sweet smile you gave him when he said 'yes' was all he could ever want. False. He needed your lips around his cock as he saw you continuously licking and sucking on your second lollipop of the day. That sugary rush secreting in your body, making you a little more hyper than usual.

Leon found himself mentally shouting at his thoughts. The grip on the strings that held the pretty clothes you got for yourself became tight as he scrutinized you. Unable to control himself, a huff left his lips as he continued to see you sucking on the sugary ball.

Fantasizing about you for so long led him to forget what you both were actually doing. Snapping back into reality, he looked away from you and saw you walk into a lingerie shop. Hold on. Wait, what the fuck? Lingerie shop. Leon's breath hitched as he walked in, seeing all the different mannequins brandish the laced items of clothing. He could picture you in the multitude of lingerie pieces that surrounded him - he honestly believed he was going insane. Your arm interlaced with his as you escorted him to the mass amount of fabric beautifully designed for your body.

A smug smile sketched itself on your face as you saw a set of lingerie, grabbing your attention immediately. Taking the lollipop out of your mouth, a string of saliva connecting you both together - you turn your head to Leon.

"What about this set?" A faux innocence entangled in your tone as your eyelashes flutter at him, the lollipop glistening under the light. Leon forced down a groan as he looked at you - seems like this first meeting was going to turn south at this point. His dick was basically throbbing imagining you in it. How pretty your tits would be, the way he would worship every curve on you.

Damn it. He couldn't think straight.

"Get it." A demanding tone elicited out of his throat, an almost growl as he saw your fingers pick at what cup size you were. The tips of your fingers rubbing against the material, weaving your way through it all. Grabbing what you needed, you looked at him - hunger was apparent in his eyes. He feasted on you, his eyes fucking you once again. Leon couldn't wait anymore, he led you to the till point. His fingers taking out a wad of cash, passing the notes over to the cashier. Not bothering to get his change, he ushered you out.

You could feel yourself getting wet again. What was this spell he had on you? He could just magically cast on you a haze of desire strictly for him. The grip of his hand on yours was tight as he paved the way towards his car. One hand held yours as the other carried the bundle of bags you accumulated in a few hours. Reaching his destination, you stood beside him as he situated the bags in the back of the vehicle, Leon's face in immense concentration as he imagined you in the set. The bulge in his pants becoming heavier and more apparent whilst he led you into the passenger seat. Although he was tense with endless longing for you, his hands were gentle as his fingers lingered on your body for a little while longer than usual. With you in the car, he slammed the car door shut, hurrying over to his side - entering in swiftly.

"You're a damn tease." Leon's voice was hoarse as he started the ignition, his head turned side to side as he reversed. Looking at you from the corner of his eye, he concentrated on that little smile you had on for him. That fucking lollipop still in your mouth. You were a minx.

"I don't know what you're talking about." A teasing tone left your throat, finishing the lollipop and licking your lips to get that sugar coating off. He couldn't help but groan at the sight. His hand slowly wandered off the gearshift and onto your thigh. You could feel a gentle squeezing sensation travel up to your heat. Leon's palm gradually nearing closer and closer - reminding you who was in control.

The sounds of gravel mushing against the wheels of the vehicle alerted you of the end of the journey. However the house in front of you was not one you knew. Leon's house stood proud as the exterior design bestowed a sensation of luxury. Parking the car, he turned his attention to you - looking at you with the same message of need and lust.

"Do me a favour sweetheart," he spoke gravelly, turning to grab a bag from the backseat. "Put this on for me will you?" The tips of your fingers grazed his whilst he passed you the bag. The lingerie combination awaiting to be clung to your body. A nimble nod left you as your throat felt dry. Compressing your thighs together to relieve yourself of the ache for a few seconds, you view Leon as he gets out of the car - going to open your side for you. A slight shake in your legs was visible when you walked towards the front door. The sound of keys jangling looped your ears as your eyes laid upon the inside of the building.

It was beautiful.

The tidiness of the place was outstanding as you walked in. Looking at the place was short-lived as Leon took you into the master bathroom. Your fingers weaved between the strings of the bag gradually opening it up and taking out the prized object. He gave your waist a squeeze and left you inside to change out of your outfit into the revealing piece he bought you.

Leon's heart was racing, his steps to his bedroom was heavy. Opening the door he was welcomed into the familiar room, the scent of freshness coming from his humidifier. Straightening out the sheets, closing the blinds and dimming the lights he palmed his erection slightly. Light pants vacated him, trying to get his thoughts together. You were doing things to him that he hadn't felt in a long time. Looking around the room to make sure everything was perfect, his thoughts were cut short hearing the creaking sound next to him.

There you stood. Your curves accentuated by the set, your bare skin captivating Leon. You felt your breath hitch, awaiting for him to say something. But actions spoke louder than words, his hands slowly caressing your sides.

"Beautiful..." A soft mumble came from him, eying you down with passion. His calloused hands brushing over the smoothness of your skin. This sight only for him. A view that nobody else was lucky enough to see. He reached out, his hand coming to rest on your hip, his fingers digging into you. Pulling you closer, his body pressed up against yours - you fit so snug against him. Leon bent down, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck as he steered you both to the bed. The covers hugging your body as you plopped down, his knee propped in-between both of your legs.

The pressure of your clothed clit against his knee elicited a moan out of you. Dripping onto the fabric of his jeans, creating a darker colour on them. The smudge of your essence spread quickly as his knee continued to slightly rub up and down. Whimpers could be heard from you whilst your body pleaded for more. More of him.

"Please..." A choked whisper came from you, pleading with him to give you more. To reward you more of his touch. Leon looked at you, already so needy for him. Such a pretty sight glancing down at his knee, your panties clinging onto your puffy pussy. His hand stroked your side as he peppered kisses on your neck. Leon's teeth nipping at your delicate flesh - making a deep mark on you.

"Patience love, I want to take my time with you." He mumbled into your neck, his voice vibrating against your skin - tickling you ever so slightly. How could he call you a tease when he was prolonging this for so long?

Your hips stuttered, trying to push yourself over the edge as you rode out his knee impatiently. Your slick made it easier for you to get the sensation you longed for. His wet kisses travelled down from your neck to your collarbone - sucking and nibbling to mark you as his. Pornographic moans drew out of your throat, nearly bringing Leon over the edge already. He couldn't get enough of you. It was like you were some succubus drawing him in with every sound that became trapped in the four walls that confided you both. Addictive.

Lifting himself off you slightly, he removed the straps off your body, slipping the material down slightly. Your tits bouncing slightly from the action. A twinge of embarrassment loomed over your face - your hands shying him away as you covered yourself up.

"Sweetheart, what are you doing?" His eyes flickered up to meet yours - seeing your face he knew damn well what you were thinking. "Don't cover yourself up, you're gorgeous..." His thumbs caressed both of your hands. Avoiding his gaze, which Leon didn't like, you stutter out a response.

"M'just nervous." Feeling self conscious within yourself, you expected Leon to get frustrated. Contradicting your thought process, he placed a tender kiss on your soft lips.

"It's okay to be nervous, do you wanna stop?" His fingers held your chin, pulling you to look at him. A slight shake of your head signaled you didn't want him to stop. His kiss made you feel warm. Safe. Hesitating slightly, you pulled your hands away - allowing him to see your upper chest fully.

"Thank you love," He fondled with your breasts, his fingers leisurely rubbing the nubs on them. "All this f'me... So fucking pretty." Without warning, his lips wrapped around one of your nipples. Swirling around the hard bud clingily. He practically drooled over your tits as he looked up - seeing your scrunched up face in pure bliss. The sensitivity of your nipples caused you to shiver slightly. A small smirk grew on his face as he continued his ministrations on your boobs. Appreciating them, kissing them, sucking them. He couldn't have enough.

The cold air hit your skin as he unlatched his lips, kissing down your stomach. He could cum just from doing this. His fingers hooked under the fabric, prying it off you until he took the top half off. He pinched your nipple whilst littering your body with his soft kisses. A gasp leaving your lips, your nipples hardening from the coldness. Leon moaned as he felt his hips buck subconsciously into the bed, he was so needy for you. His body dependent on yours - the heat radiating from your frame made his cock throb with an ache that needed to be sated.

But no. He needed to make you cum on his tongue. God. Leon has to taste your essence. A craving that he could attain now that he shifted you further up the mattress. Propping himself to dive into your slick cunt. Manicured nails feathered through the locks of his hair, a shudder leaving him as he glanced up at you one last time. Telepathically asking for your consent when he removed your soaked panties.

"Mhm..." The mumble was quiet, but he heard nonetheless. You knew he did as he licked the slit of your pussy, a growl like groan leaving him whilst he sunk his head back down the apex of your thighs.

Skillful movements of his tongue became unmistakable, flicking it up and down on your clit. Mixing it along with a few kisses and sucking motions - it brought tears to your eyes.

Your heart and mind craving more, juxtaposing your movements as you were out of control.

Trying to push him away - feeling your orgasm slowly build up. To no avail, Leon pressed his hands down, suppressing you to the quilt and him. Sandwiched in what was going to give you an enchanting release, your fingers bunched up his hair to pull on it. Giving you some sort of control in the situation. This granted you a moan from Leon, still persevering to make you cum.

The bridge of his nose rocking into your clit, multiple wet sounds coming out of his mouth. Your pussy gushing at his experience, Leon needed you to cum. Hearing your gasping moans whilst his mouth transferred itself to your clit made him double take if he even needed to fuck you to cum. Just pleasuring you was getting him off to a point where he thought he would cum in his boxers if you carried on spoiling him with the gratification of giving you oral.

"Leon, m'so close!" The whine fleeing out of your mouth did it for him. He lifted his mouth off you; meanwhile your head shot up no longer feeling his tongue anymore. Before you could protest, Leon spat on his fingers, coating them well in order to put them inside of you. Your walls tightened whilst he would piston them deep - curling them so good at your g-spot. Alongside with his mouth returning back to your bundle of nerves.

An otherworldly feeling rose within you as you sputtered out filthy moans. Leon's lips curled into a smile, feeling that you were about to cum on his fingers. Muffled since he was sandwiched between both of your thighs he spoke out, a sultry tone laced with it.

"Cum f'me baby, come on." Those words sent you over the edge. The crispiness of his voice echoed in your ears as you felt that impending orgasm finally release. Screaming his name, embedding chants of thanks, he rubbed soft circles on your clit. Slowing his movements to grant you a moment's peace allowing you to come down from your high. With his chin soaked, his fingers coated, he licked them clean whilst looking at your erotic blissed out expression.

"Such a good girl, a pretty one at that." He kissed your thigh, getting up from in between your legs. A deep kiss shared amongst the two of you, you were tasting yourself on his tongue. Leon's hands no longer clung on your skin as he removed his shirt.

You saw the scars that littered his body, a dark mark highlighted on his left shoulder. Some sort of bullet wound. To pry in this situation would be bad, it would just kill the mood. However, you could feel yourself getting hot once again when your eyes trailed over him again. Prominent abs shining through with his biceps putting you in an non existent chokehold. The light veins protruding through, showcasing his whole body. All that came from you was a breathy pant, you couldn't speak. Not when he was this handsome.

"You're staring sweetheart." He kissed your forehead, allowing you to snap out of your trance.

"Sorry..." A sheepish murmur left you. Still, you couldn't turn away as your eyes zoomed around his body once again. Fuck.

A chuckle brought you to look at his hands as they capably undid his belt. The leather shining snapping your attention to very clear bulge in his pants. Feeling proud of yourself for making him hard, you meet his gaze on you. His expression was unreadable... besides the fact his stare on you was longing. That's all you could read off him. Who was he? What did he do for a living?

All of those thoughts were lost as he took off his pants, his precum already seeped through his boxers making a distinguished mark. Without thinking, your hands replaced his. Pulling the boxers off him in a flash to see the flushed red tip. Leon let out a choked gasp, unaware of your movements. Your stare didn't help him regain his composure at all, a roseate colour burning on his cheeks.

"Don't look at it like that..." He moaned softly. It was pretty. Minor veins travelling up to the tip, showcasing off the large one that curved slightly. The base of him neatly trimmed - he was clean. Thank fuck.

It wasn't long before Leon positioned himself to your cunt. Practically drooling for him. His touch gentle as he rubbed your sides - easing you to be less nervous.

"You okay? We can stop if you want." He mellowly asked whilst brushing away a few stray hairs from your face. His fingers lingering on your cheek as he caressed it softly. Seeing you shake your head back at him with a sweet smile reminding him of your consent in the situation gave him a sense of comfort. You saw him as a person. Not a tool, not a man who killed abhorrent things. But a guy who could make you feel good.

Pushing into you was with ease. Your sloppy pussy taking him in so well that his hips sputtered slightly feeling you tighten around him. Leon couldn't resist slowly rocking his hips, craving more of this sensation you happily gave him.

"You can go faster, m'okay..." Reassurance was all Leon needed in this. Hearing your words and consent to fuck you good snapped something within him. His thighs slapping against yours slightly, creating a soft 'plap plap plap' made the scene more erotic then it was. This was pure filth.

His thrusts becoming deeper he threw his head back. You felt so good wrapped around his dick. Leon felt your nails scratch his sides, you tried to cling onto something as he pumped himself again and again. Needing to feel your skin on his lips, he pressed himself closer to you - his kisses gently fluttering on your neck. The tighter you squeezed the closer he was. Smothering your skin with marks that shown you were his. He made you his by forming his cock shape inside of you.

The base of his cock had a ring of cum forming around it. Displaying your last orgasm whilst he was soon to bring you to your next. His hips didn't stop the everlasting assault against yours, bucking into you helplessly. Leon hadn't felt this alive in ages. This horny mess he was encapsulated in brought him to his memories of when he was young. A young adult pumping with energy once again but this time he was older, more mature. Much more experienced. You were the lucky one to feel his experience. To feel him let go of himself in you.

He propped himself back up, the sheer sheet of sweat highlighting his abs in the dim light alongside the beads of sweat that covered his forehead. "Good fucking girl... take it." Dirty words left his lips and flowed into your ears. Words that make you shiver, blush and shake slightly in his grasp.

A growl escaped Leon when he felt your legs wrap around his hips. Fuck, did you want him to cum inside? His mind went crazy at the thought. Calloused hands gripped you tightly whilst he looked at you. So beautiful. You were gorgeous. The mewls that scratched your throat as you shot your eyes open when you felt like you could see stars. Only to meet Leon's gaze once again - just this time, you both were so close to the brink of release.

The way the scene held such love. A sugar baby and sugar daddy wouldn't have this with each other. Maybe this was different. Both of your foreheads clung to each other. Gasps leaving your mouth, groans leaving his. Passionate kisses being traded between you two as his thick cock stuffed your sobbing pussy full.

"Love, fuck, you have to unwrap... your legs." He managed gasp out. Leon's dick was throbbing, aching for the sweet release he craved for. You were in a state of bliss, your body nearly becoming limp as you obeyed with his instruction. The bundle of nerves tingled. You were so close. So close to cumming around him. Leon could feel it. He could see it. Shakily, his thumb reached that precious, sensitive clit that longed to be rubbed. His ministrations on it brought the loudest of screams from you.

"Leon! I-I can't..." Your wails only made him dizzier. Dizzy from how fucking pretty you were for him.

"You can sweetheart, come on... cum on my cock. Be a, shit so tight... Be a good girl and cum f'me baby." Leon moaned out, he was about to fill you up if you weren't quick. Lucky enough, a bit more pressure on your clit caused you to shake uncontrollably. The same feeling as before washing over you - just a lot stronger. His eyes watched everything. How your body shook in his arms, the way your eyes rolled back as his name slipped from your tongue. Looking down, he could see your tits bounce whilst he carried on fucking you. Marks strewn all over you.

Leon's hips stuttered, he swiftly pulled out of you - cumming instantly on your pussy. The white, glossy substance coating your slit. Some spurts shot up and landed on your tummy. His head thrown back as he came down from his high, his endorphins going mental.

"Fuck..." He held himself up slightly, trying not to crush you with his body weight. A deep chuckle abandoning his throat as he saw you pant. Your fingers clutching onto his bicep whilst you tried to steady yourself.

Cute.

"You okay?" A deep voice knocked you out of your trance, looking at him dizzily. "Mm..." Your nods spoke louder than your mumble as you held onto him. His fingers latched onto a few tissues from the box on his bedside table. Wiping gently the mess he created on you. Mellow kisses on your stomach, tickling you a little.

He wanted something more. A relationship even. But a long term relationship would mean you would see the nightmares that taunted him. The crying, the hurt, the horror. He didn't want you to see that just yet. So this 'agreement', was enough for now. But everyone would know he was yours and you were his. He would make sure of it. Even if it meant marking you up or perhaps putting a placement ring on your finger before the real deal. Anything to make you happy, you were his happiness.

He guided you into the master bathroom again. Just for a different reason. Running the bath, it filled up rather quickly. Leon's hands wondering over your skin whilst massaging any parts he may have clutched onto a bit too tightly. Soft kisses on your face, lips and neck carried on. Not out of lust - it was love. His love for you met no limits.

The smile that would creep up his face when he heard you giggle made his heart flutter. That hole that was punctured so deep from his job was filled by your presence.

"Thank you..." Your voice was melodic. Bringing Leon to look at you with heart shaped eyes. A deeper kiss shared amongst the both of you whilst he got you both in the bath. The warm water soaking into your muscles, easing them up from the pleasure you both faced.

"Of course, anything for you." His words held such comfort that it could make you cry. Who knew a sugar daddy could bring you happiness in the romance department? Or maybe he was just separate from the others. You didn't care. All you cared about was him, and you wanted to know more about him. Trailing your eyes up to him, you see him remember something.

"Hm? What's up?" The inquiry you had made him chuckle. Confused, you prod him to give you an answer. His lips pressed against your forehead before he spoke.

"Is $2000 enough for tonight?"

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#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #leon x reader #leon kennedy resident evil #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you #leon s kennedy

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nadvs · 4 months

Text

home before dark (part five)

pairing rafe cameron x kook! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary as children, you and rafe were best friends, but then tragedy suddenly struck his family and he shut everybody out. years later, you need his help when a pushy ex-boyfriend won’t leave you alone. rafe is perfect for the job because everybody’s afraid of him. except for you.

content warnings stalker ex, violence, substance abuse, death and mourning of parent

» masterlist

· · ── ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ── · ·

You and Rafe haven’t said anything to each other since your kiss. After a moment of tense silence, he collected himself and you headed back to the party. He found his friends. You found yours.

It’s been over an hour, the sun now nestled below the horizon, and you keep catching his eye in the dark, crowded backyard. You remind yourself that his gaze is so persistently on you due to your arrangement. He’s looking out for you. That’s all.

But he didn’t have to kiss you. He could have opted for something less… intense. Because now your mind won’t stop repeating it and everything that lead up to it. Stoic, unattached, cold Rafe cried. Actually cried. And then he kissed you so gently that your head still feels like it’s spinning.

You look at him again from across the yard. He’s surrounded by the same guys he always hangs out with, but for once, you can see just how lonely he actually looks.

It hurts to think about how he considers you to be the only person who cares about him - you, a reminder of the worst thing that happened to him.

What about his friends? Or his family? Do they all neglect him, unwilling to see past his hard exterior?

When Rafe trails your car to your house after the party, it’s a few minutes past midnight and his body is already feeling the itch for more coke. It’s the best way to numb everything. But he can’t afford to. Not when he’s taking care of you. Not when you looked at him the way you did when you said he could quit.

You glance up every so often to see Rafe in the frame of your rearview mirror, his bike rumbling behind you, his headlight bright.

You reach your home, relieved to see that the mailbox is closed, and pull into the driveway.

After you both come through the front door, you arm the security system, then turn to face him.

“Do you want to take the guest bed?” you ask, having rehearsed it in the car. “Or just sleep in my room again?”

Rafe doesn’t make much eye contact with you. He’s still embarrassed.

“A distraction would be good,” he admits. He can’t fall asleep alone, sober, with nothing but his own mind replaying the humiliation of crying in front of you.

“So, boring you to sleep was a smart idea?” you ask with a small smile. Knowing you’re helping him, even in this silly little way, is gratifying considering how much he’s helping you.

Rafe huffs amusedly, tilting his head. You make your way up the stairs and he follows, chewing on his lip before he can say his next words. The guilt is killing him. Especially when you have nothing but patience and compassion for him.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to…” He stops in the hallway, wanting to get this out before he gets ready for bed. “This morning… I shouldn’t have left like that.”

Rafe’s lids are low and he shuffles in place, like this is the first apology he’s ever given someone and he’s not sure if he’s doing it right.

The way he left your home was abrupt. His tone was harsh. But it was because you did the only thing you’re not supposed to do. You brought up the past. And you can’t blame him.

You decide to try to dismiss the tension between you.

“Couples fight,” you joke. “It’s okay.”

Rafe nods, his gaze still on the floor. You realize right behind him, up on the wall, hangs the photo of you and him and your mothers. His smile used to be so bright.

He steps towards the guest room and when he closes the door behind him, you take the photo off the wall and shove the frame in your dresser. You’ll do anything you can to protect him from any and every reminder.

When Rafe enters your dark bedroom, you nervously take a breath before you speak.

“You can just sleep up here again if you want,” you say. “The floor’s probably not that comfortable.”

“Sure,” he says, hoping he sounds indifferent even though he’s the farthest thing from it.

Kissing you was a thrill and just the thought of sleeping next to you makes his entire body feel like it’s on fire. Being close to you is like its own drug and he can’t get enough.

You smell minty toothpaste as Rafe settles next to you in bed. You stay on your side, faced away from him, as he lies on his back, resting a hand on his stomach.

“I’m trying to think of a boring story,” you say. You shake your head to yourself. “This is weird.”

“Weird?” he echoes, on edge that you’re regretting inviting him to sleep next to you.

“Yeah,” you admit. “My ex used to tell me that I talk too much. I’m still getting used to the idea that someone actually wants to hear me ramble.“

“He said that to you?” Rafe turns his head, looking at your silhouette in the dark.

You stare ahead, eyelids fluttering. It’s a hard subject, but you almost feel like you owe it to him. He was so vulnerable earlier tonight. You want to balance the scales.

“All the time,” you recall. The thought of that idiot berating you ignites rage in his core.

“It was like a power play or something,” you continue. “I think he liked to say things just to hurt me, then get me to forgive him. I… gave him too many chances. Maybe that’s why he keeps trying to get me back.”

“You didn’t bring this on yourself,” Rafe says before even a second can pass.

You breathe out slowly. You know he’s right.

“Yeah,” you say. “I guess it’s easier to feel like I’m responsible in some way because then I’m not just a victim.”

Silence settles between you for a moment, a gap slowly opening.

“You didn’t do anything to deserve that.” The gap closes and your heart skips a beat. Rafe isn’t the type to say something just to say it. You know he really thinks that.

“Thank you.” You pick at a string on your duvet cover. Expecting him to open up is a losing game, but it’s one you can’t stop playing. “Have you been… in a relationship?”

You’ve never seen Rafe with a girl for longer than the duration of a party. But maybe he kept his commitments under wraps. He’s an expert at hiding from the world.

“No,” he says with a cynical chuckle. He’s hooked up loads of times. But a relationship? Not even close.

“Why not?” you ask. Despite his scary reputation, Rafe’s undeniably attractive. And some girls like the scary thing. Maybe you would if you didn’t know there was nothing to be scared of.

“Just haven’t,” Rafe answers. You stifle a sigh. It was a matter of time before he closed up again.

“So, um, I can talk about my day?” you offer. “You fell asleep to that last night. I’ll try not to be offended again.”

Rafe smirks at your joke and taps his fingers against his stomach. You never push him to talk. He appreciates it.

Brushing you off is a reflex. He doesn’t want it to be. You clearly spent more than enough time dealing with a jerk and he doesn’t need to be one to you, too. So, he decides to answer your question. Honestly, this time.

“I think it’s because I… just…” he begins, trying not to stammer, “I can’t stop how fast my thoughts are sometimes. I can’t control how mad I get. There’s no point in getting serious with a girl because the second she hears what my head sounds like, she’ll bail.”

The more you learn about who Rafe is today, the more it hurts. Does he think there’s nothing worth loving in him? That everyone will abandon him?

“The right girl won’t,” you say into the dark. “She’ll want to hear it all.” You hear Rafe chuckle in disbelief.

“Yeah,” he says sarcastically. His mind is a place of high highs and lower lows. He can hardly survive it himself. He couldn’t expect someone else to.

“It’s true.” You’d be that girl if he’d let you. But your very existence plagues him. You’ll never be that girl for him and he’ll never want you to be.

“I know people call me a psycho. They’re not far off,” he admits.

“You’re not that.” You don’t even want to say the word. “If you were, you would’ve laughed in my face when I asked you to pretend to be my boyfriend. But you didn’t. You’re here.”

You feel Rafe shift his weight. His back is to yours now.

“So, your day?” he says.

He’s done talking. And even though you’d like him to share his thoughts with you until sunrise, you’re relieved you actually got somewhere with him. Bit by bit, he’s baring his soul to you, and it’s just as gentle as you remember.

You tell Rafe about your time at the mall today, once again going into meaningless details just to make the story drag.

His heart is hammering in his ears as he lies in your bed, eyes shut, listening to you speak. He’s never admitted to anyone why he’s never wanted a girlfriend. Not even to his closest friends. If they ever asked, he’d say he wasn’t into commitment.

He can’t believe now that he said it out loud, it was to the one person he thought he’d spend the rest of his life avoiding.

Again, Rafe isn’t in bed when you wake up. You find him downstairs, waiting for you just like yesterday.

Before you lock the door behind him, he offers you a simple bye. It’s a reminder that even though he cried in front of you and kissed you and revealed why he won’t let anyone in, you’re still being kept at a distance.

It’ll be a hot day, so you make plans with friends to have lunch at the country club and spend the afternoon by the outdoor pool.

When you get to the pool deck and recline in a lounger, you notice a lot of other Kooks had the same idea today. Scattered along the poolside are groups of a lot of the people you see at parties, drinking and soaking in the scorching sun.

You’re instinctually looking for Rafe. When you spot him on the other side of the pool, sitting in a chair identical to yours, you immediately feel at ease.

It’s probably not a good idea to let your eyes linger on his toned, bare chest. But you do.

You wonder what these days will look like when all this is over and Ty stops pursuing you. Will you go back to seeing Rafe at rowdy parties and spontaneous events like these, hoping he’s okay, wishing you could talk to him but knowing he’ll treat you like a stranger?

You look away. Dwelling on this will only make you sad.

Later in the afternoon, you’re leaning back in your chair under the sun, beads of pool water sprinkled over your skin. You’ve been swimming with your friends most of the day, calm because Rafe is so close by.

Your eyes are closed as you relax in the sun. But then you hear his laugh. Ty’s laugh.

You stiffen immediately, sitting up straight, eyes darting around to match the nauseating sound to the face. Your heart is racing, playing back everything that’s happened in the past few days.

The creepy letter. The footsteps in front of your door. The way he mocked you on the beach, asking what you’ll do when Rafe’s not around to protect you.

“You okay?” your friend asks.

“Did you see...” you begin. You can’t waste another second. You don’t even grab your towel when you stand up.

You walk along the crowded pool, heading straight for Rafe.

When he sees you rushing over, your head frantically whirling to look behind you with every couple of steps you take, his body is injected with a blazing urgency.

Rafe swiftly rises from his seat, leaving his friends to watch him in confusion for leaving the conversation so suddenly.

He helps seal the distance between you and once you’re close enough, he takes your hand and leads you to the edge of the pool deck by an uninhabited rental booth.

You round the wall, earning privacy. Your bodies meet and you yield to him just like you did to your instincts, pressing your cheek against his chest and circling your arms around his torso.

Rafe hugs you back. Tightly. His skin is warm, not a drop of water on him, a sharp contrast to the clamminess clinging onto your skin and bathing suit.

“What happened?” he murmurs. He notices how fast your shoulders are skittering. You’re shaking against him.

“I thought I heard him,” you say. Now, thankfully, all you can hear are the thumps of Rafe’s heart over the roar of swarms of people swimming and sunbathing. “I don’t know. I feel like I’m going crazy.”

Rafe knows the feeling. He envelops you tighter. He hasn’t used his body to hold somebody like this… ever. He’s used to using it to inflict harm. To hurt. So why does this feel so natural?

“Do you want me to see if he’s here or do you want me to stay?” he asks.

“Stay,” you reply. You always wanted him to stay. His big arms remain wrapped around you, chipping away at the fear you rushed over here with.

Your bodies are curved into each other, his warmth radiating off of him. Rafe hasn’t left the poolside all day. He couldn’t risk a distraction. He needed to be there in case something happened to you. And something did.

And feeling you settle in his arms, the way your trembles start to disappear and your breath grows deeper, is worth it. He’d do anything to keep you safe. Anything.

Eventually, once your stress has become much more bearable, you pull back. Rafe’s hard blue eyes sweep over your face.

“I won’t let him near you, alright?” he says. His hands drag up to your face, palms pressed at your cheeks. You nod with wide, doleful eyes.

You exist in this moment together, like you did in your bed after your nightmare, like you did when you were alone on the beach last night, touching even though there’s nobody around to fool.

Then, Rafe pulls his hands off of you and once again, tension wedges its way between you. He steps back. So do you.

“Do you want to sit with me for a while?” he says gruffly, his stare on the ground now.

“Just you?” you ask. The hope in your voice floods him with sadness. Does the thought of being with his friends upset you that much?

“Yeah,” Rafe says.

“Yeah,” you echo.

Your bare arms are an inch from touching as you sit together on the shallow edge of the pool, your legs dangling over in the water.

“I don’t even want to look if he’s here,” you confess, looking down at your thighs pressed against the concrete next to Rafe’s.

“I will,” he says. You see him look up from the corner of your eye. After a moment, he shakes his head. “He’s not.”

“Okay,” you breathe. It’s odd that Ty hasn’t been around. Maybe Rafe really did scare him off for good. “Thanks.”

You’d been in this pool as kids a few times. Not nearly as much as you were on the beach behind his house, but a few summer days, Rafe’s mom would bring you and her children here.

He was always protective of his sisters. You remember his boyish voice calling for his mom whenever Sarah started wading towards the deep end. Now, any time you see him with his sister, they’re snapping at each other.

Again, your mind spirals to who Rafe would be if he never suffered such a terrible loss. He’d probably be close to his siblings, instead of pushing everyone away.

You glance at him, taking in his blue eyes and freckled skin in the sun, and try to smile. But you can’t. A piece of your heart will always be missing because of what happened to him.

When you join your friends, the bright mood you arrived at the club with is gone.

You take a long, hot shower as soon as you’re home, deciding you’ll have a night in tonight. The day was too heavy to try to have any fun.

It’s nearly ten when you settle in front of the tv under a blanket. Just so Rafe doesn’t worry about you not showing up at your mutual friend’s party, you text him: i’m staying in tonight. don’t worry if you get here late. just call me and i’ll let you in.

He calls you within a minute.

“Hello?”

“Did something happen?” Rafe asks. He doesn’t have to be specific - he’s asking if Ty found a way to scare you again.

“No, I’m… just not in a partying mood,” you respond.

“Are you alone?”

You curl up under your blanket, hooking an arm around your legs.

“Yes.”

He’s quiet for a few seconds before he asks, “Do you want to be?”

“No,” you admit.

You remotely open the gate when Rafe arrives minutes later, watching him come up the driveway on his motorcycle through the window.

When he settles on the other end of the couch in your living room, he snorts a laugh.

“Really?” he asks once he sees what’s on the screen.

“Be nice,” you quip. “It’s my comfort film.”

“Still?”

Your heart is in your throat. He remembers. You made him watch it with you once, years ago. You both talked through most of it.

“That’s the thing about comfort films, Rafe,” you reply. “They don’t change.”

He stretches his arms along the armrest and back of the couch, taking up all the space he wants to. He grew up to be so tall and big and powerful.

“Defensive,” he responds. You roll your eyes and smile.

As the movie continues, Rafe watches you and the only word he could use to describe how you look curled up on the couch is cute. His body reacted to your kiss, to the way your curves felt when you pressed up against him in that hug, because of course it did, but it’s more than that.

You’re pretty to him in the most innocent way and it’s like he’s a boy again, confused about how he could be so nervous around someone yet still want to be with them nonstop.

This is getting harder. He’s growing attached and he knows he shouldn’t for both of your sakes. Because you can both try to pretend you don’t have a history, but you do. It follows you around. You can’t outrun it.

“I can find something else to watch if you want,” you say. He tears his eyes off of you before you catch him staring.

“It’s fine,” he says. You nod and let yourself enjoy his company, even though it’s fleeting.

You sit up suddenly when you realize you dozed off. Your eyes find Rafe, who’s smirking at you.

“How long was I out?” you ask.

“How good can a movie be if you fall asleep?” he teases. You playfully nudge his knee with your foot. “Like, ten minutes. Not long.”

“I’m more tired than I thought,” you say.

“Probably from staying up late to talk,” Rafe replies.

“The price I pay for a bodyguard,” you say with a laugh. You rub your eyes. “Are you ready for bed?”

The casual way you ask the question in your fatigue almost makes him dizzy. It makes you sound like you’re a real couple.

Rafe trails you up the stairs and before he turns to change into his pajamas in the guest room, the gap in the wall of photos is glaringly obvious. You removed the framed picture of his mother.

“You took it down,” he says without thinking. He feels the comedown hitting him. Another low his mind is racing through.

The hallway is dim and you’re staring at his back now. You twist your hands together, jittery, like you’re about to take a test and saying one wrong thing will fail you.

“Yeah,” you reply softly. “You don’t like reminders, right?”

Rafe’s body feels like it weighs a million pounds. He’s stuck. Heavy.

“Is that…” He shakes his head to himself. “Is that bad?”

“What?”

“Nevermind,” he says. It’s like pulling teeth, giving a voice to the thoughts that he’s always running away from.

“Not wanting reminders isn’t bad,” you say behind him. “If that’s what you mean.”

You feel like you’ve been wrung out. You’re a reminder. You step towards him, even though he’s facing away from you. You can’t help but want to touch him again.

When Rafe feels your hand cup his, he lets out a deep breath.

“I shouldn’t be trying to forget her,” he says. Fuck. Now that he’s started talking, it’s like he can’t stop. Why can’t he stop?

Your mind swirls as if you’re in a dream. He’s actually talking about his mom. You continue to stare at his back.

“I don’t think you are,” you whisper.

“How would you know?” he mutters sharply.

It’s a defence mechanism. You can tell. He’s trying to push you away. You won’t let him.

“Maybe I don’t,” you say. “But I think what you’re really trying to forget is how bad it hurts. Am I right?”

Rafe’s chest rises and falls with rough, shallow jolts. His heart pounds. His eyes wander over the space where the photo was.

“The last time I…” He’s unable to stop his rushed words. “The last time I had a chance to tell her, I didn’t. I just… I didn’t.”

“Tell her what?”

“That I loved her.”

Your throat goes dry.

“She knew,” you say. You grip his hand tighter. “Of course she knew.”

“She said it and I - I just didn’t say it back,” he stammers. “We hit the wall so hard and she - I know now that she knew she wasn’t going to make it. That’s why she told me she loved me. I didn’t say it back.”

Your heart thrashes against your ribs and your stomach turns with agony.

“Oh, my God. Were you…” you whisper. “Rafe, were you in the car?”

His eyes squeeze shut. He can still hear his mother asking are you okay? He answered yes and she said thank God, I love you and then he saw the way she was slumped over the steering wheel from where he sat in the backseat and he couldn’t speak from fear and he stopped believing in a God the second he heard her take her last breath.

That’s when he found his voice. He started screaming for her to wake up. She never did. It birthed a burning, merciless anger deep inside him that controls him to this day.

The last thing his mother did was make sure he knew he was loved. And he didn’t say it back.

“I didn’t know,” you say. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

You heard very little about the accident. It was stormy. She hit a freeway barrier. She died before the ambulance arrived. Nobody ever went into any more detail and you didn’t want them to.

There’s a gaping hole in your chest. Rafe was there when she died. He was with her. You always wondered where he was when he learned she passed away. How he was told the horrifying news.

But nobody had to tell him. Your best friend watched his world end right in front of him, leaving him with pain he has been running from since.

He wriggles out of your grip. Speaking to you is making him live through it again. And if he keeps talking, he’ll say something he regrets.

“I’ll sleep on my own tonight,” he says, voice thin. You watch him disappear into the guest room.

You rush to your bedroom and shut the door so he doesn’t hear the heavy sobs that start to erupt out of you.

You pace around the room, aching from the inside out. Right now, you don’t picture Rafe as the man he is, protecting you, carrying a gun. You picture the boy. At the beach. In the car. At the funeral.

Like a tide reaching a shore, you gravitate towards him. If he rejects you, you can take it. But you can’t handle the thought of him needing someone and you not being there.

Rafe is sitting at the edge of the guest bed when you turn the door handle. You close the distance and sit beside him, wrapping your arms beneath his, tight around his body.

“You can tell me to go away,” you whisper against his back. “I promise I will if you want me to.”

You feel his chest filling and contracting with his harsh breaths. He hunches over, head in his hands.

“Go away,” he mutters. Just like when he was a kid. His voice is deeper now, but his words are the same.

The pain is sharp. It takes everything in you to let go of him. But you do. For what feels like the thousandth time, he denies you a place in his healing, the only thing you’ve ever truly wanted from him.

The tears welling in his eyes fall when he hears the door shut behind you. He can’t do this. He can’t relive it. He can’t disappoint you. He can’t open up all the way and tell you everything because if he does, he’s not sure he’ll be able to forgive himself or put himself back together.

You lie in bed, your chest hurting so bad that you’re not sure it’ll ever get better. It’s like for every step you take forward with Rafe, you take two back.

He held you, kept you from a panic attack today, but you don’t possess whatever it is you need to help him. He can keep you afloat, but you can’t return the favor.

He knows you care about him. He cried about it last night. Evidently, what you offer is still not enough.

He’s just down the hall, so close but at a distance. You pull up your duvet and wish he were beside you, falling asleep to the sound of your rambling.

But no amount of wishing for anything can make it come true. If there’s anything you’ve learned from your broken friendship with Rafe, it’s that.

(part six)

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#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron and you #rafe cameron and reader #rafe cameron and y/n #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfic

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iris-qt · 4 months

Text

𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚒𝚘

🫧 ᴛʜᴇᴏᴅᴏʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴛ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

🫧 ʙɢ ᴍᴜꜱɪᴄ: ᴄʟɪᴄᴋ!

🫧 ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ

🫧 ᴀ/ɴ: ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰɪᴄ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴏɴᴇ. ɪ ᴀᴅᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢᴜʏꜱ’ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ ꜱᴏ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ʙᴇ ᴀꜰʀᴀɪᴅ ᴛᴏ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ᴏɴᴇ!

🫧 ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ꜰɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ᴜɴᴡɪɴᴅɪɴɢ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴀʟʟ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱᴛʀᴇꜱꜱ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ɢᴏʀɢᴇᴏᴜꜱ ᴠᴀᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ɪɴ ɪᴛᴀʟʏ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇɴ’ᴛ ᴀᴡᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ’ᴅ ʀᴜɴ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇxɪꜱᴛᴇɴᴄᴇ: ᴛʜᴇᴏᴅᴏʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴛ

Azure blue skies and endless summer breeze tails you through the rolling green countryside of San Gimignano, Italy. This was true, pure bliss. A flow of relaxation that you haven’t felt since…Merlin knows when. The stress of endless exams and finals, everlasting prefect duties, and bickering with your horrid nemesis really left a mark; as represented by your unrelenting dark circles and deep forehead lines.

But at least all of that was giving way to the Italian atmosphere and it left behind a happy girl that would donate a kidney to spend her entire summer here. Unfortunately you were only visiting for a week before school began once more; your final year. This brought a sense of dread to your heart as you would miss the enchanting castle. Your second home.

You pushed that aside as you zoomed through the countryside of this ravishing country on your cute little teal Vespa. Truth be told you’d never driven a muggle vehicle before, but there’s always a first time for everything.

And so your lack of experience with muggle vehicles was the cause of you not being aware that gas has to be filled. You thought the meter getting closer to 0 represented the dissipation of your happy mood as you were, per usual, plaguing yourself with paranoid and pessimistic thoughts. The sudden shuddering of the Vespa made you lose balance and you began veering off track, you and your precious vehicle zooming down a hill with the sheer force of gravity. You screamed for dear life, and, at last, landed in a shallow pond with an enormous splash.

You bobbed up, gasping for air, and scrambled out of the lake quite ungracefully, summer outfit ruined and soaking wet. And suddenly, you heard a scarily familiar, devilish chuckle that just so happened to find your tragic predicament amusing: your mood as drenched as your clothes.

As you slowly glanced up trembling, not knowing if your shaking was from the water, shock, pure rage, or all three, you made direct eye contact with a certain boy musing at your tragedy. His eyes were overflowing with humor as he was leaning against a tree, his tanned legs crossed over each other. He seemed to be reading a book which he put down as he had found something better worth his attention. He gracefully stands up, a complete contrast from how you scrambled out of the pond, much to your annoyance.

“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven, angioletto mio?” He smirks.

“Nott,” you scoffed. “Small world…or cruel fate,” you stand there, dripping wet, arms spread out like a martyr.

Of course you knew the insufferable Theodore Nott was Italian and often visited family here, but you didn’t think you’d be subjected to his presence in such a big country, especially in the less populated countryside. It was truly just cruel fate that brought this spawn of satan before your eyes.

“I didn’t know you were that desperate to see me,” Theodore cocks his head to the side, quite enjoying this arrangement. “Risking your life on a muggle vehicle zooming to my town.”

You roll your eyes, and if you were in a cartoon universe, trust that there would be steam coming out of your ears.

“Trust me Nott. I had no intention to run into a walking headache on my vacation.”

The insufferable git kept smiling, moving closer now, standing right in front of you so you could smell the usual dizzying scent of sandalwood and pine. Summer edition Theo had a hint of citrus mingled in with his intoxicatingly annoying scent.

“I already got you soaking wet, now you just have to get naked,” he laughed with the most disgustingly smug look on his face that you almost slapped off.

“Are you done?” You glared at him, ready to storm off and free yourself from the torment of his presence.

He shrugged, looking you over.

“Need help drying off?”

“I need help out of this conversation.”

“Oh stop, y/n, you can do better than that,” he grinned

You sigh very well aware you had no other option. You hold out your arms and shut your eyes waiting for his casting of the Hot Air Charm. Since you had resolved to live the simple muggle life for this vacation, your wand was locked in a vault at your hotel room.

Theo laughs, “Are you waiting for a kiss, principessa?”

You open your eyes, confused. “No, I’m waiting for you to dry me off like you said, idiot.”

He laughs again shrugging and says, “I don’t carry my wand around my domain, there’s no need.”

“Then, pray do tell me, Nott, what was your plan in helping me?”

He gives you the most shit-eating grin and grabs your hand, scaring you a bit, then begins pulling you up another grassy, verdant hill: one that isn’t hiding a body of water behind it. You have the urge to resist, but just give in. The drop from your adrenaline-rush you’d been maintaining for the past 3 days had collapsed, causing you to come down with an attitude of resolve. He dragged you up the hill, your wet sandals making squelching sounds, each one demeaning you more and more. You hated this shift in power where the perfect git was overshadowing you. You hated it. You hated him. I think.

“So why were you in the countryside? Other than wanting to see me so badly, of course.” He looks behind him and shoots his watercolor poison into your soul as he makes that unblinking eye contact. Another thing on the meter-long list of things you despise about him.

“I was in a self-deprecating mood and decided to ruin my record streak of relaxation by finding you,” you deadpanned as you rolled your eyes for extra affect.

“Y/N relaxing? You must be lying.”

He chuckled a bit as you two stopped at the top of the vast hill, looking down to a meadow of wildflowers. They glowed like colorful jewels in the blinding, comforting summer sun.

“What’re you gonna do, push me off?” You smirked, half wishing he’d do so. Maybe this was all a nightmare. A beautiful, lush, tinged with the familiar scent of Theo nightmare.

What you didn’t expect, however, was him saying:

“Precisely.”

And with a surprisingly gentle tug, he pulled you down on the top of the hill, pushed you back in a laying position before you could protest, and quite literally pushed you down the hill. You screamed as you, for the second time that day, gave all free will up to gravity, rolling down the hill at a crazy speed. You knew Nott was your unproclaimed but painfully obvious nemesis but you never thought he’d attempt murder. You finally stopped and lay there, sprawled on your back, heaving from the rush. It was kind of…fun?

Theo rolled down right next to you, laughing, as he sat upright. There was grass in his curly, brunette hair that you couldn’t help but reach out to pluck. He looked away quite shyly. Did your eyes deceive you, or did he just blush? You must have heat stroke. Good thing you had your wet clothes to keep you cool: they were significantly drier now.

You stand up and Theo starts laughing in a way you’ve never heard him laugh before. It was almost…endearing?

You put your hands on your hips teasingly and ask, “What? Do I have something on my face?”

He chuckles affectionately. “Mio angioletto, you have something…everywhere.” He bursts into laughter again. “Beware grass woman rising from the Italian hills,” he gasps through his fits of laughter.

You couldn’t help but smile so wide; his happiness was almost as contagious as his teasing.

You look down and realize the grass was sticking all over your outfit, covering you in verdant greeness. There was an itching sensation bubbling to your skin, but you ignored it. You couldn’t help but join in with his laughter as you could imagine you looked like green Chewbacca.

“Is this your sick way of tar and feathering me, Nott?”

He recovers from his laughter and stands up with you, peeling a wet blade of grass from your cheek.

“Alas, you have uncovered my motives,” he teases, grinning.

“Well, your actual motives didn’t work. I’m still sopping wet.” You wringe out the side of your shirt for dramatic affect as it produces a downpour of water.

“There’s more to my motives, mio angioletto. If at first you don’t succeed, try try again.” He grasps your hand again with a beautiful look on his glowing face and pulls you up to do it all over again.

And again.

Until the sun is caressing the distant hills, getting ready for its nightly departure. The sky is painted shades of teal and purple; still bright but just so. The breeze is still gentle, and so is Theo’s hold on your hand, as he guides you back to his tree by the wretched pond.

Don’t ask yourself what you and him were at the moment. Don’t ask yourself how years of rivalry and pranks. Of stress related to the both of your never-relenting efforts to beat the other. Don’t ask how that all faded away, as you sat in the setting sun.

Unfortunately, it isn’t in your nature to just ignore logic. And Theo knew it. So he distanced himself from you in light of the passing moment of rolling down flower dotted hills, letting go of your hand. It was as if an igniting flame in your heart had been stifled. He sat across from you by the tree. A silence falling between you two.

The slight itching you had felt earlier had been slowly increasing, and as the fun fell away, it began grabbing your attention. The feeling was in your throat now…something wasn’t right. And that’s when you remembered something that Theo’s warm presence had melted away from your mind. As if your brain had tricked itself to forget about this important fact to permit you and Theo’s fun. You were allergic to wildflowers. If exposed to them for a long time? Horribly allergic.

You started coughing and then choking, pointing to your neck to alert Theo to the problem. His eyes widened as he realized what was happening…he had noticed your uncharacteristically red skin, but he had dismissed it by thinking it was the sun’s doing. How could he overlook this?

Your choking grew louder as you fell onto the grass, Theo scrambled around crazily not knowing what to do in his initial panic.

But then he remembered

He pulled out his wand and cast a healing spell which would diminish every affect of an allergic reaction. You started being able to breathe again and your throat cleared, along with your skin returning to its original color and texture. You were gasping in shock, slightly embarrassed that you had been in such pathetic situations in front of Theodore twice today. You were both holding each others’ arms and breathing deeply. You recovered slightly, attempting to lighten the tense mood.

“Well, if your true motive was to kill me, Nott, I’d say you almost succeeded.” You let out a weak, unconvincing laugh.

“I..I am so sorry, y/n, I genuinely didn’t know..” he looked crestfallen. More shaken than you in fact. Wait a minute…

“Hold on,” you raised an eyebrow, your shock of almost dying completely gone and replaced with a new shock. “I thought you said you didn’t have your wand?”

Theo’s eyes widened sheepishly and he grinned, looking as guilty as ever.

“Ok listen before you throw a fit-“

“I don’t throw fits, I diplomatically argue.”

“Before you throw a tantrum, let me explain.” Theo runs his fingers through his hair looking nervous, and, for the first time, failing to make eye contact.

“I just…I knew you’d leave if I just dried you off. You only stayed because you needed help and, well…” he sighs.

“Well?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about you all summer, y/n. I lay awake all night and I day dream all day. I swear I even saw you in the stars..” he gives a nervous, strained laugh.

“You never leave my thoughts, but I was sure it was just because I had to prove myself. To beat you. But you didn’t even leave my brain after school ended. You haunt me every day. When I saw you I thought I was hallucinating, like, genuinely.” He runs his hand through his hair, looking the most vulnerable he’s ever looked.

You look at him, eyes blazing with emotions you had denied yourself. Emotions that fought to be seen but you always pushed them back. You couldn’t fight back anymore. What were you even fighting against? God, you had some serious issues.

“And so you lied to make me stay?”

Theo nodded, looking to the side, up at the darkening sky.

“Maybe it was the universe that brought me here, because what are the fucking odds?”

You both laughed at that, eyes shining despite the escaping light around you.

“Theo, in my last 3 days I’ve been in your beautiful home country, I’ve visited so many places. The Trevi Fountain, the Pantheon, the Uffizi Galleries. So many amazing places, and I’ve experienced the most inspiring ordeals. But today was, by far, my favorite day.”

Theo regains his composure after hearing that, playfully judging her with his shoulder .

“Because of me, hm?”

You roll your eyes, looking away.

“Say it, principessa..” he prompted, gently holding your face and focusing it towards him.

You dramatically sigh and admit, “Yes, Theodore Nott. Because of you.”

He smiled the most breathtaking smile. If only you could capture a picture of it, but unfortunately your camera went down with the Vespa. You lay your head on his shoulder and squeeze your eyes shut, so that his bright smile could be engraved into your mind. Definitely a core memory.

After many moments of comfortable silence, Theo perks up.

“Oh! By the way, dolcezza, I realized I said the pickup line wrong when you struggled out of the swamp.”

You rolled your eyes at his impertinence and said, “First of all, it’s a pond, Theo. And second of all I did NOT struggle. I emerged like Aphrodite in a shell.”

“Ok my little swamp monster,” he annoyingly nuzzled his nose into your hair as you fought to hold back a giggle.

“Okok let me say the line.”

“Go ahead, Theo.”

“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?”

You cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Because you have the face of un angelo.”

He grinned his shit-eating grin as you pretended to retch at the line. Jumping up with the fireflies around you, you tagged Theo, reigniting that competitive streak you both so closely shared. You both laughed like maniacs as you raced up the hill again, fireflies dancing around you in a waltz.

#theodore nott x you #theodore nott fluff #slytherin boys #theodore nott #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott one shot #theodore nott x reader

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khaylin27 · 4 months

Text

Guilty as Sin?

pairing: oscar piastri x norris reader; lando norris x sister reader; talks about carlos sainz x norris reader past relationship

series: the tortured poets department and part two of so long, london

synopsis: after the tragedy of y/n norris and carlos sainz, y/n moves on with her brother's new teammate, oscar piastri. can she feel guilty as sin in this new relationship?

warnings: drinking; a small segment of smut; the media being snakes

author's note: none i'm just happy that y/n is finally happy 😭

Drowning in the Blue Nile He sent me 'Downtown Lights' I hadn't heard it in a while

After Lando's birthday celebration, Oscar decided to drive you guys back to your hotel since he was the only sober one between the three of you. As Oscar drives his McLaren Artura down the Las Vegas strip, one of your favorite songs 'The Downtown Lights' by the Blue Nile started playing. "This is one of my favorite songs."

"This is your favorite song too?" The Aussie says surprised.

"Yeah, but I haven't heard it in a while. My ex boyfriend hated this song because it was 'too chill' for his music taste." You say recalling the time Carlos got mad at you for playing this song while he was driving. It still hurt thinking about Carlos. How can you stop forgetting someone you've loved for so long? "Is it possible to turn it up?" You ask so you can numb the pain that you felt from Carlos.

"Will Lando wake up if you turn up the volume?" Oscar asks you and you turn around to see what he was doing. Lando was knocked out drunk from partying too hard.

You giggle at his question, "I'm pretty sure he'll be okay." Oscar smiles at the giggle you made. "I'm going to turn it up." The Aussie nods and you both start singing the lyrics to the song.

"Sometimes I walk away. When all I really wanna do. Is love and hold you right. There is just one thing I can say. Nobody loves you this way. It's alright, can't you see? The downtown lights" You and Oscar sing the lyrics in unison and smile at each other.

Little did you know everything was going to be alright with Oscar by your side.

This cage was once just fine Am I allowed to cry? I dream of cracking locks Throwing my life to the wolves Or the ocean rocks

The night of the Las Vegas Grand Prix, it felt like you were in cage with all the lights and cameras on you. This was your first time back in the paddock after the tragedy that happened in July 2022.

Oscar walks out of room in the paddock he hears you crying in Lando's room. "Hey Y/N. Are you okay in there?" He doesn't hear anything from you which starts to worry him. "I'm coming in."

When he enters the room, he sees you crying on the couch and sits next to you. "What's going on pretty girl?"

"I hate him so much. I spent so much of my youth throwing my life for him and Ferrari and he has the audacity to talk crap about me to the storm of reporters outside." When you were trying to walk through the paddock to get to the McLaren garages earlier, one of the reporters asked if you had any comments about Carlos talking about you to other reporters. You were confused at first, but once you got the time to watch what Carlos said in interviews it got you so angry. He started bad mouthing you and your three year relationship you had with him. He even started bad mouthing your brother and the McLaren team.

As you're still crying, Oscar decides to give you a hug. "I understand that you went through a lot in your relationship with Carlos and still are. It isn't right for Carlos to bad mouth you or anything related to you. That's very immature of him." Oscar wipes the tears that fall from your face. "It's okay to feel this way Y/N. You're allowed to cry. But it's time to crack these locks from Carlos and start throwing rocks at that past relationship."

You smile a bit at what Oscar was telling you. "You're right, Oscar." You stand up and fix yourself up.

Before you both leave the room, Oscar kisses your temple. "I'm always here for you Y/N." You felt butterflies after Oscar kissed your temple.

What if he's written 'mine' on my upper thigh Only in my mind? One slip and falling back into the hedge maze Oh what a way to die

After Lando and Oscar got 5th and 6th place at the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, you guys decided to hang out back at the hotel. Little Lando fell asleep after a couple rounds of alcohol, it was only you and Oscar talking.

You were a little tipsy from the rounds of alcohol you had and you accidentally told Oscar something that was only for your mind. "You know Oscar. The past two weeks, I've started to have a crush on you." Oscar was shocked when you told him, but you couldn't care since you were tipsy.

"Sometimes I wonder if you're written 'mine' on my upper thigh." Oscar laughs at your little pick up line and you notice. "Hey don't laugh at me trying to confess that I like you." You lightly slap him and he politely apologizes to you. "But only in my mine?" You question yourself.

"Why only in your mind?" he asks you.

"I don't want to move too fast. One slip and I'm falling back in love with one of my brother's teammates." As the words leave your mouth, Oscar kisses you in the lips.

"Oh what a way to die then." You both smile at each other and he kisses you once again.

I keep these longings locked In lowercase inside a vault Someone told me There's no such thing as bad thoughts Only your actions talk

During winter break, you decided to spend some private one on one time with Oscar in Australia. Before you two left you had to tell Lando about your fresh relationship with Oscar. Lando was shocked that you two were together since he was 23 and you were 26 but overall supportive for you. Lando did have to give Oscar the "if you hurt my sister, I'm going to kill you" talk. Oscar jokingly responded back "it's okay. I like my women a little older." Which got all of you laughing.

As you watch Daniel and Oscar paddle board on the Australian coast line, you were talking with Heidi. "So how long are you going to keep your relationship a secret?" she asks you.

"Well our relationship is new. I like keeping our relationship locked, only for us to enjoy for now. Let's call the vault our relationship in 'y/nscar' with a lowercase too." You both giggle about the vault idea.

"You look happier Y/N. I know that you're still grieving the years you had with 'the man that shall not be named.'" You both laugh about 'the man that shall not be named,' but it fells good to finally be able to laugh about your ex, but you had a feeling you were moving on too fast.

"Do you think I'm moving on too fast with Oscar?" You ask Heidi.

"Someone told me. There's no such thing as bad thoughts. Only your actions talk. You're really in love with Oscar and you're finally healing." She explains to you.

You both look at the Australian coast line and see your men coming back to where you were sitting. "You guys enjoying the view?" Daniel asks the both of you.

"Definitely." You answer Daniel's question and give a kiss to Oscar.

"I love you honey." Oscar says and kisses you again.

"I love you too."

My bedsheets are ablaze I've screamed his name Building up like waves Crashing over my grave

That night after spending time with Daniel and Heidi, you both decided to take your relationship to the next step and have sex. Let me tell you it was the best you ever had.

For once a man put your needs first before his own. As Oscar was eating your pussy out, you screamed his name like never before. Carlos never got down on you once during your relationship.

After Oscar ate you out, he decided to insert himself in you. The waves of pleasure were building up as he kept thrusting himself inside you. You both spent hours making love.

"How was it?" Oscar asks once you both reach your climax.

You kiss him passionately, "It was the best sex I've ever had love. I could rest in peace now." You say jokingly and he laughs. "I love you so much."

"No I love you more." You two laugh again and kiss once again.

What if I roll the stone away? They're gonna crucify me anyway What if the way you hold me Is actually what's holy?

Your private love didn't last for long as f1drama instagram reporters on the two of you.

f1drama BREAKING NEWS: McLaren driver, Oscar Piastri, spotted with his teammate's sister, Y/N Norris in Australia earlier today. Sources at the scene say that they were on a date and were very loving to each other.

It's embarrassing to see Lando Norris' older sister not only with another driver on the grid but someone 3 years younger than her. Carlos Sainz, her ex fiancé, definitely dodged a bullet on marrying Y/N Norris.

"That's so disrespectful for the media to be following us while we're on break." Oscar says angry that the media was following you two around Australia. "It's disgusting what they put in the caption of the post. They even added Carlos in there which is such a low blow."

You try to calm Oscar down by hugging him and pressing kisses to his jaw. "It's okay love. I knew the media would react like this once they found out."

"I just thought we would have time to keep our relationship private." Oscar says as he rests his chin on your head and continues to hug you.

"I know. All I need is you right now." You say as Oscar holds you tighter. The way that Oscar holds you felt holy to you. You felt like everything would be okay with just him by your side.

I choose you and me religiously

yourinstagram i choose you and me, religiously. @oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri love you always and forever honey 🩵

liked by author

landonorris yay i finally got to keep a secret for so long!

liked by author

yourinstagram i'm surprised. very proud of you little bro.

danielricciardo wow no photo creds @yourinstagram 😒

heidiberger_ let her be down bad for oscar 😭 liked by author yourinstagram what my girlfriend said @danielricciardo 😌 danielricciardo @yourinstagram hey she was my girlfriend first!

taylorswift the guilty as sin lyric 🥺🩶

liked by author and oscarpiastri

user1 mother approves of my other mother being happy 🥹

user2 @taylorswift ARE YOU HINTING THAT GUILTY AS SIN? IS ABOUT THEM !??

user3 she's glowing in her new relationship rn

user4 @yourintagram i don't get the hate about her moving on with oscar 😭 she's more happier with him than when she was with carlos

tagged: @omgsuperstarg @splaterparty0-0 @2pagenumb

#taylor swift #the tortured poets department #lando norris x reader #lando norris #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic

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sparring-spirals · 5 months

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Still emotional about Fy'ra Rai and Opal, actually. Thought dump time bc i. dont have the energy to cut this down effectively.

Because at that point in the episode, Opal is doomed. Not in the fun little "oh things are getting worse ;)" kind of way we'd been experiencing leading up to the fight, or even IN the fight. At that point in the fight, Cyrus is dead. Dorian and Dariax have their minds twisted, bodies clambering away from the fight. Morrighan has felt, firsthand, just how far gone Opal is, holes in her mind, her friend broken. The heartbreaking sentence of. "You can always come back." understands that she is gone already. She's lost already. Opal has forgotten Ted. Opal has forgotten herself.

So at that point in the fight, we know Opal is doomed. Us as the audience, the cast, the characters. Aabria is running through each of the other crownkeepers and it is more of a goodbye than a round of combat. Defying the Spider Queen invites death, with zero hesitation- Cyrus's body as physical evidence of that. The terms were very clearly set: You leave Opal, you let her be lost. Or you die. (Leaving Opal anyway).

and Fy'ra Rai then. Grasps the crown, understands intimately that she can break it off and it will kill Opal. (I will free you, if you want me to. We would lose you but you would not be taken). And asks, what do you want me to do. What do you want.

and Opal says, I want you to leave. (I want you to live.) and Fy'ra Rai functionally says. No. Sorry. That's not one of the options.

If you wanted to go. I will do that (your blood on my hands). If you want me to stay, I will. But I'm not going to leave you.

There was the point where Fy'ra Rai broke into the communication and I felt my insides sink because. Look. Lets be real, Aabria had already demonstrated the stakes here. The gesture would not be rewarded for the gesture alone. The Spider Queen's terms were: You leave Opal. Or you die.

And Fy'ra Rai said: no.

I don't think I'm overstepping to assume that if Fy'ra Rai had failed the intimidation check, she would have died. This entire thing hits me so hard because I think Anjali knew that too. I think Fy'ra Rai knew that too. Yes, Fy'ra Rai convinced a Betrayer God to negotiate. She carved a third option out of a non-negotiable situation. She knew what would happen if she failed and did it anyway, with no fear, no regret, no waver in her resolve. She had lost enough sisters. She wasn't going to lose anymore, no matter the personal cost. That's part of why it succeeded, I'm sure, but.

Just. Fuck me. The amount of resolve. The amount of love. The amount of conviction. "I am. A protector." You know your friend- your sister- is doomed. So no more negotiating away from that. You step to her side and you grasp her hand and say- doom me with her.

And in some, sideways way, this saves you both, at least for a little while.

Because this story is a tragedy. This ending is a sad one. We know this already. But think about- Opal, under Lolth's bidding, alone in the dark. Think about Fy'ra Rai, alive, intimately aware that she had failed to protect yet another sister.

And think about what we got, instead: the two of them, in deep darkness, danger encroaching- holding hands. Someone they love at their side. A champion. And her champion.

This is still a sad story. But it's not the same one. Fy'ra Rai stared down a Betrayer God and made her change her mind. She stared down a Betrayer God, and her love and conviction changed the nature of the story. It shouldn't have been able to. But she did.

Fy'ra Rai chose to doom 2 people instead of one, and the sheer strength of her love and will managed to save them both, at least for a little while. Isn't it funny how that works? Isn't it devastating? Isn't it. fucking incredible?

#critical role #cr spoilers #c3e93 #opal #EVERYONE CLAP FOR AABRIA AND ANJALI AND AIMEE BC I GO MORE FERAL THE LONGER I THINK ABOUT IT #character meta #fy'ra rai #fy'ra rai meta #opal meta #spar speaks #i had to get this out bc i cant Stop Thinking About it.... god..... she really Did That...#its not just about refusing to leave its understanding the consequence and facing it so unflinchingly that the narrative flinches first #UAHHHGGHH.#anjali bhimani do you know how much i respect you for this move. aabria iyengar do you know how much i respect you for setting up the stake #so clearly that this success(?) Hit the way it did. Aimee carrero do you know how much i respect you for how truly and devastatingly #you played opal while keeping the core of her character so poignant.#what the fucmkc. anyway im fine .#anyway this is why a lot of my devastated wailing is going to be reserved for dariax. and dorian. and cyrus.#my meta #FORGOT. I HAD THAT TAG. gotta go back and retag

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paraphwrites · 9 days

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i need you to understand that dbda is a tragedy & it didn't have to be.

it is a tragedy because the protagonists are sixteen year old boys who were victims of hate crimes. it is tragic because their deaths are senseless and didn't have to happen. it is tragic because they were killed by other sixteen year old boys who were taught hate and violence instead of compassion and tolerance. it is tragic because their deaths were probably the best thing that ever happened to them.

it is a tragedy because the boys do not let the tragedy define them. it is a tragedy because these awful, vile things happen to them, and they choose to be better, and they should not have to be. it is a tragedy because in our universe edwin and charles didn't come back as ghosts & they are just dead.

tragedies, by definition, must have a sad and/or unsatisfying ending. 'dead boy detectives' is the definition of a tragedy. because it ended sad (with niko dying) and unsatisfying (with the knowledge that niko is Out There Somewhere). 'dead boy detectives' was never meant to be a tragedy but because it was ended before it was supposed to be, it is.

edwin's life didn't have to be a tragedy. he very well could have lived past the war and become a writer or a librarian or a detective. edwin could have lived a long and happy life, and it wouldn't have been perfect, but it would have been human and complete. but his life was ended prematurely, so it is a tragedy

charles' life didn't have to be a tragedy. he very well could have lived through his father's abuse and created his own home with his own family where he never laid a single finger on his kids. he could have played music as loud as he wanted and kissed people in clubs and taught sports lessons at a community center. but this was taken from him. his life was ended prematurely, so it is a tragedy

but. it is also NOT a tragedy. because charles & edwin find each other. they find each other and they find love and hope within tragedy. because they live on beyond death, their story is not a tragedy

what i am trying to say is. 'dead boy detectives' is a tragedy because @netflix canceled them. it did not have to be a tragedy because it did not have to be canceled. and yet it still does not have to be a tragedy, because as a community, we have the ability to carry on their story, to find love and hope and community within tragedy

capitalism is a bitch and it is the inherent antithesis of art whatever whatever whatever edwin paine did not die for us to give up on this media. it deserves more. it deserves better. we all do.

you deserve better than the world. we all deserve more than we are given. but we cannot change that. we can just, like, make art, and have community, and keep shouting our love. we did not deserve this cancelation. but like. netflix does not deserve to warp their story into a tragedy. they don't have that right, i don't give it to them

#dead boy detectives #save dead boy detectives #renew dead boy detectives #analysis #edwin payne #charles rowland #plot analysis

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todayisawthewhxlewxrld · 7 months

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A TRAGEDY THAT'S BUILT ON DESTINY!

I WOULD CHANGE MOST EVERY SINGLE THING. I WOULD LET YOU KISS ME, KILL ME!

synopsis// multiple different universes, but one thing remains the same: geto loves you in each and every one of them.

pairing// suguru geto x gn!reader

word count// 5.8k

contents// different universes, angst, satisfying angst?, hurt/no comfort but also hurt/comfort at the same time, ooc geto?, character death tehe

notes// inspired by everything everywhere all at once and the song kiss me kill me by mest :3 i wrote this SOOOO long ago but u have no idea how much i adore this oneshot. like i think it might be my fav oneshot ive ever written. it is everything to me!! and i did not do the idea justice but u get the point!!

December 24th

You assume the fight is over because neither you nor Shoko have gotten any more wounded victims. The two of you glance at each other briefly but don’t bother saying anything. What could be said about a full-blown borderline war schemed by your high school best friend and lover? Nothing could possibly be said, so nothing is. The two of you stand there waiting for anything to happen, whether that’s getting called back to Jujutsu High or being brought another victim, and eventually something does happen, and Shoko gets a call. You can’t read her expression for the whole 20 seconds she’s on the phone before she passes it to you. You furrow your eyebrows in question.

“It’s Gojo,” she says blankly before attempting to hand you the phone again.

You hesitate to answer. “Hello?”

“You should get down here,” he says blankly over the phone.

“What? Why? Is everything okay?”

“Um, yeah, just—you know those back alleys by the school?”

“Uh huh?”

“Meet me there.”

“Gojo, you’re kinda scaring me-“

“Y/N, just come; you’ll thank me—I hope.”

You frown and begrudgingly agree, “Okay, fine, yeah, whatever, I'm on my way.”

“Make it quick, alright? I'm serious,” he adds quickly before hanging up.

As you give Shoko her phone back, you roll your eyes at the fact that he didn't even give you a chance to say okay before hanging up.

“What was that about?” she wonders, slipping her phone back into her pocket.

You sigh. “No idea, but he wants me to go meet up with him for some reason.”

Shoko hums curiously. “You should get going then; must be urgent.”

You nod, “Yeah.”

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。

It doesn't take you long to get to the school given how fast you were walking since Gojo told you to hurry it up, the tense anticipation aiding in your speed. It does, however, take you a few moments to find Gojo, but once you do, you find that he's not looking at you, but he’s speaking, and it's not to you either; it's to something—or rather someone—he's blocking with his body.

“Gojo?” you ask once you finally reach him.

Gojo turns to face you, a sorrowful smile on his face, before stepping out of the way to reveal who he was speaking to and the whole reason why he called you here in the first place.

When you see Getou on the ground, your heart sinks into your stomach, and your blood runs cold. You look back at Gojo, who merely shrugs.

“You should say your goodbyes; I already did,” Gojo whispers before leaving you and Getou alone.

Getou lets out a hushed laugh. “That’s a little melodramatic of him, don’t you think?”

The hammering of your heart roaring in your ears makes it difficult to hear what he says. You stand there frozen in what you can only describe as horror as you stare down at Getou, who's missing an arm and is only growing more pale by the second from blood loss.

“Do you plan on ignoring me?” he asks softly, as though he’d understand if that really was your plan.

You blink a few times and shake your head, your tears blurring your vision. “I dont-“

Getou hums appreciatively and smiles up at you, which makes you completely break down, a sob racking through your body so violently that the only thing you can do is collapse to your knees. Getou winces as he tries to sit up straighter, as if he’s going to catch you or crawl over to you. You sniffle, your sobbing uncontrollable, as you crawl to him, and once there, you let your head fall upon his blood-stained chest. Getou immediately places his only remaining hand on the back of your head, as if holding it to his chest, and gently pats your head.

“Are you an idiot?” you snap.

“Might be.”

You sob even harder into his chest. “Why would you do this?”

Your question makes his heart race. “I wanted something better for Jujutsu society.”

You shake your head at him disapprovingly. “Why’d you have to go about it this way?”

“I don’t know Y/N," he sighs. "Does it make a difference?”

You scoff, raising your head to glare at him. “Of course it does, you idiot! You left! and had a hit placed on you! Why couldn’t you have just stayed?” You sob, letting your head fall back onto his chest. “Why couldn’t you have wanted me as much as you wanted this? Why couldn’t... Why couldn’t you have wanted me as much as I wanted you?”

“Y/N,” he coos regretfully, as if he doesn’t know what to say, which he doesn’t. He did want you, and he’d even go as far as saying he wanted a better jujutsu society for you so you wouldn’t have to live your days slaving away for the non-sorcerers. “Y/N, look at me.”

You shake your head and screw your eyes shut, not wanting to look at him. You don’t want to see your first and only love withering away right in front of you.

“Y/N, please look at me.”

“I-I can't."

“Y/N, open your eyes.”

The demandingness dripping from his voice has your head shooting up to look at him and your eyes opening wide, but as you open them, you’re not met with an actively dying Getou; you're met with a sunny and flower-filled meadow? You move to wipe your tears, but your face is dry. You blink a few times, trying to take in your new surroundings, given that a moment ago you were just in a dark alley and now you're sitting on a blanket in a field under a glowing sun.

“Y/N?” Someone speaks from beside you.

Your attention is drawn to the person. “Getou?”

He smiles at you.

“Getou, where are we?” you ask, now starting to slightly panic.

He looks at you in confusion. “We’re on our date?”

Your chest heaves up and down, and you're more confused than ever. “Huh? But- We-“

“We what?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.

“We were just behind Jujutsu High; you were missing your arm, and-"

Getou scoots in closer to you and cradles your face in his hands. The feeling of a warm, full-of-life Getou touching you brings tears to your eyes all over again.

“Woah, woah, love, calm down. What are you talking about? Jujutsu High? Me missing an arm?”

“You don’t remember?” You croak out, distraught, and slightly convinced that you’re going crazy.

“Remember what, love?” he asks softly.

You stare at him in disbelief. “The fight—you wanted a better jujutsu society, and you tried? You lost your arm! You were dying; I saw you! I was there with you! You were covered in blood and-“

Getou gently wipes your tears away. “Love, that didn’t happen. I’m here, yeah? and I have both my arms, and there was no fight for Jujutsu society? Whatever that means..."

You blink at him, dumbfounded. “What?”

“It was probably just a bad dream, Y/N.” He smiles at you reassuringly.

“You don’t know about jujutsu society?”

“Am I supposed to?”

You stare at him in awe. What’s happening? How could he not know about jujutsu society when it was the very thing he was fighting for? But then again, how could he not be missing an arm? And how could the two of you not be in a dark alleyway right now? How could any of this be happening? Maybe he’s right; maybe it really was a bad dream. A very vivid, detailed, lucid, and lifelike bad dream.

“I guess not,” you respond with a frown.

Getou wipes away your last few tears and smiles at you. “You’re okay; I’m okay. We’re okay. It was just a bad dream, love.”

“Yeah,” you say haltingly, "yeah, I guess it was..."

“Are you okay now?”

You nod as you take one of his hands off your face and into your own. “Yeah, I think so... Um, where are we, Getou?”

“On our weekly date?” He answers curiously as he removes his other hand from your face.

You look around at your surroundings curiously. “In the middle of a forest?”

“This is your favorite place, Y/N,” he says, quizically.

As you take another glance around, you hum, not necessarily agreeing or disagreeing. “I can see why; it’s beautiful here.”

He raises his free hand and grips your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “Y/N, are you okay? How come you don't remember?”

You look into his eyes, and something doesn't feel right—as if you're not meant to be here—but you digress and shrug anyway. “I don't know...”

He frowns briefly before leaning in and giving you a quick peck on the lips, and you practically melt, having not felt his lips on yours for far too long.

“That's alright. We can still make the most of the rest of our day, right?”

You nod, and he smiles at your response, letting go of your face and hand to open his arms to you, inviting you into his embrace. You return the smile before laying yourself in his arms, trying to ignore the rising feeling that something is wrong, but you can't because the minute your head touches his chest, you're thrown into a moment, a memory, a dream? where you're back in the alley with your head on a bleeding-out Getou, and it's just for a split second, a flash in time, but it's enough to make you go stiff and your breath hitch.

Getou rubs his hand down your back soothingly. “Hey, what's wrong?”

You swallow harshly and try to concentrate on the green scenery in front of you rather than whatever you keep seeing. “Nothing, I'm fine. It's fine.”

Getou places his head on top of yours. “Are you sure?”

You nod. “I am.”

He hums disapprovingly but doesn't press the issue any further; instead, he just runs his hand up and down your spine in an attempt to calm you down, which works as you begin to relax into his embrace and regain control of your breathing.

“What do we usually do here?” you ask, breaking the silence.

He shrugs. “Usually just talk about our days, our future plans, and stuff like that.”

You hum. “Is it nice?”

“Very nice; I like spending our days together.”

“I do too,” you correct yourself, “or I'm sure I did too.”

Getou doesn't say anything; instead, he lays himself down and, since he's holding you, takes you with him. You sigh contentedly and let your eyes flutter close, the sun and his hold keeping you warm. Suddenly, even with your eyes closed, you can tell it's getting brighter outside, and you groan. You’re about to ask what's up with the sun when a shooting pain in your head causes you to wince. Your heartbeat rings in your ears, and you can feel your hands grow clammy.

You feel unstable, as if you're no longer on the ground being held, as if you're floating through time and space, and the uncertainty forces your eyes open, but you're not met with anything—no, that's not right, you're met with everything, glimpses of time that you can barely make out. One moment you see Getou at an alter, and then you see you and Getou nodding to each other in determination, and the next glimpse is of you, Getou, Gojo, and Shoko laughing about something before you’re hit with another shooting pain in your head. Screwing your eyes shut, you hiss in pain, and all too suddenly, you're back on stable ground, no longer floating, and the brightness you could see through closed eyes a moment ago is gone.

You still hesitate to open your eyes, unsure of what you'll see, but when you can just barely make out that you're not where you were before, your eyes shoot open. You're now standing in the doorway of what appears to be the room of two teen girls, and Getou is sitting at a vanity staring at you; his hair and make-up are done, and he's frowning. Despite your confusion about where you are, you can't help but burst out into a fit of laughter.

He sighs and rolls his eyes. “Oh haha, yeah, keep laughing.”

You slap your hand over your mouth in an attempt to stifle your laughter. “What happened?”

He crosses his arms over his chest and looks away, mumbling, “Our daughters thought I would make a very good model, apparently.”

You go to laugh again, but it hits you, and you look at him like he's crazy. “Sorry, daughters?”

He returns the look. “Yes? Our kids?”

You look away, muttering to yourself, “We have kids...”

You didn't mean for him to hear it, but he does anyway and instantly stands up and makes his way toward you. He grabs your shoulders, drawing your attention to him, and when you look at him, he's staring back at you in concern.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

You want to take him seriously, but truthfully, you can't when he’s wearing bright pink lipstick and bright pink eyeshadow. He does look cute, though. You try to bite back a smile.

“I'm sorry, but I can't take you seriously when you look like that.”

Getou sighs. “I know I look amazing. Can you try to ignore my beauty for like five seconds and tell me why you’re acting like you don't remember our kids?”

You frown. What are you supposed to tell him? That you're apparently having nightmares upon nightmares about different lives with him? And now you're not sure what's real and what's not? You can't say that, so instead you shrug and merely mutter, “You do look amazing like that, though.”

His head drops to the side at the same moment that his smile fades. “Y/N.”

“I don't know.”

“You don't know?”

“Some really weird shit is going on, Getou,” you breathe out heavily.

He doesn’t say anything, instead grabbing your hand and leading you to one of your apparent kids' beds, where he sits you down.

“What’s going on?”

“I don't know, and you wouldn't know either so,” you explain vaguely in frustration.

He gives your hand a squeeze. “Maybe I would?”

You shake your head. “I don’t wanna waste time on that; I don't know how long I have here.”

“What?” he asks blankly. “What do you mean you ‘don't know how long you have here’?”

“Getou,” you whine, not wanting to think or talk about it because you wouldn't even know where to start; all you want is to learn about this new nightmare and what it holds.

He relents. “Okay, I won't ask.”

You smile at him and let a moment of silence pass before asking, “What are they like?”

“Huh?”

“Our kids—daughters.”

Getou hums. “They’re great; we raised them well.”

“They are especially great at making you a model, huh?” you snicker.

He laughs and rolls his eyes. “Oh whatever, you're just jealous they never make you model.”

You shrug. “What are their names?”

“Well, we were gonna keep the names they had when we adopted them, but they ended up not having any names at all, so we settled on Nanako and Mimiko.”

You stare at him in awe. “Did you pick the names out?”

“We both did,” he recalls fondly and vividly, as if it were just yesterday that the two of you were picking out names.

“And we are...?”

He kisses your cheek before answering, “Married—we’re married.”

You hum and raise your left hand, your gaze fixed on your ring finger. “I don't see a ring?”

He hums curiously. “You were wearing it this morning? Maybe you dropped it somewhere?”

You nod. “Yeah.. Maybe..”

Getou doesn’t say anything; he doesn’t know what to say. What could he? His partner of multiple years suddenly has some form of amnesia and can't remember that they have kids, let alone that they’re married to him. You turn to face Getou. He looks like Getou—like the Getou you know, who apparently was merely a nightmare. Besides all the makeup and stuff, he looks like Getou. He says he’s Getou, but something just feels off.

“Are you real?”

He nods. “Very real.”

You look around the room, taking in the messy vanities, the messy beds, and the drawers stuffed with clothes. “Are our kids real?”

“Extremely real.”

You study his face for any hint of uncertainty, and when you find none, you ask, “Am I real?”

He narrows his eyes at you and hums curiously. letting go of your hand only to bring both hands up to your face and start smooshing your face together, pushing and pulling at the flesh on your cheeks.

“Getou,” you mumble.

He hums approvingly and nods, letting his hands fall back to his sides. “Yep, you’re real.”

You smile at his idiotic antics but appreciate them nonetheless. And although you can touch him and feel him, and he is real, as are you and your kids, it still doesn't seem real. And then, all too suddenly, your head starts throbbing again.

“Fuck no, not again,“ you panic.

“Y/N? whats wrong-“

You can't hear what he’s saying anymore; it's like you've gone underwater and he's speaking to you from the surface. Another shooting pain in your head has your eyes screwing shut, and you know you're fucked when all you can hear is your heartbeat ringing in your ears and feel your hands grow clammy all over again. You’re back to feeling unstable, drifting between time and space once more, and just like last time, the uncertainty of the feeling forces your eyes open, and you're faced with everything again—more glimpses in time that you can barely make out.

One moment you think you see yourself back at the beginning on Getou’s cold chest, and then you see yourself and Getou covered in blood, and you're not sure if it's yours or someone else's, and the next glimpse you see is of Getou on your cold chest, like your roles had been reversed, before you’re hit with another shooting pain in your head. Screwing your eyes shut, you wince in pain, and finally you're back on solid ground again, no longer floating, and the brightness you could see through closed eyes a moment ago is gone. This time you don't hesitate to open your eyes, and you find yourself in a cemetery.

You look around curiously, trying to assess your surroundings while simultaneously trying to recover from whatever just happened. But you're starting to realize something now. All of this is real. You laying on Getou’s chest was real; having a picnic with a perfectly fine Getou in a world where curses apparently don't exist was real; having kids and marrying Getou was real; and all of those little bits of time in between each new life were real. All of it was real—is real; all of it happened—is happening; it just didn't happen to you specifically. Not this version of you, at least. You’ve realized that you’re experiencing different universes and living alternate lives of your own. You didn’t think alternate universes existed, but it's not too hard to accept when the world you live in—the world you belong to—is riddled with curses and sorcerers. You are not above believing in alternate dimensions.

Finally over your sudden epiphany, you're able to realize that you weren't immediately met with Getou like you had been the past two times you got transported into another dimension. As you put the pieces together, a grave feeling washes over you—no Getou, and you’re in a cemetery. You swallow harshly.

No, no, no.

You start running around the cemetery, inspecting each and every headstone, and praying to the universe(s) that you aren't about to find one that reads his name.

No, no, no.

You keep running, the cemetery seemingly interminable, until you run up behind someone who looks suspiciously a lot like Getou, and when you hear him murmur under his breath, you sigh heavily in relief that it is him, but why is he here? You tilt your head and try to look around him to read the gravestone.

“What the fuck?” you exclaim, stunned.

Getou spins around faster than you can even blink, and he almost chokes on his spit. “Y/N?” His chest heaves up and down as he shifts his gaze between you and the gravestone. “But-but-how-you’re-“

“Dead apparently,” you say, finishing his sentence as you stare at the gravestone that reads, "HERE LIES L/N Y/N."

He stares at you, completely bewildered, and you can see him trembling. “How—how are you here?”

Will something bad happen if you tell him this isn't your universe and there are actually multiple universes out there? Who knows, but you’re about to find out.

“I'm not, well, I'm not supposed to be.”

He shakes his head and closes his eyes. “I'm just hallucinating; you’re not real.”

His reply breaks your heart. “I am real.”

“You’re not.”

You step forward, taking his hand in yours. “I am.”

He finally opens his eyes back up, and he stares at you through tears, completely amazed that you're here, that you're actually touching him, and that you're actually alive and real.

“I don't—I dont understand—you're dead!” He stammers, yanking his hand from yours, and as he breaks out into full-on sobs at this point, he’s reminding you an awful lot of yourself in your own world.

You nod slowly. “In this universe, it seems so... how?”

“What?” he stutters. “This universe?”

You ignore his question. “How did I die, Getou?”

He shakes his head sternly. “No, I'm not saying anything until you explain what you meant. What if you’re a curse? What if I cursed you, holy fuck? Fuck!”

“Okay, curses still exist in this universe; good to know,” you acknowledge with a nod.

Getou snaps, “What are you talking about!?”

You flinch, which only makes him sob harder.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap—I'm just so fucking confused; you're supposed to be dead,” he bawls as he falls to his knees.

You take another step closer and kneel down, drawing him into your embrace and letting him sob into your chest for as long as he needs, ignoring the horrible feeling of deja vu crawling all over you like worms.

“Shh, you're okay,” you whisper, soothingly brushing your fingers through his hair.

He finally starts to calm down after a few more minutes of whispering sweet nothings to him, and once he’s no longer sobbing, he pulls away.

“Answer my question, and I'll answer yours,” he says through sniffles.

You nod.

“What were you talking about, universes? How are you here, Y/N? You’re dead—or you’re supposed to be...”

“Do you believe in alternate or multiple universes?”

He shrugs and wipes away any remaining tears. “I don't know; I never really thought about it.”

You hum and nod. “Right, so, uh, they exist! There are a lot of universes out there, actually." You let out an uneasy laugh.

He stares at you curiously.

“Obviously, I'm not from this universe.”

He continues staring at you.

“Oh, cmon, curses exist, but you draw the line at alternate dimensions?”

Getou frowns and says, “I guess you’re right... So you’re from a ‘different dimension’?”

You point a finger at him, narrowing your eyes. “Don't air-quote me like you don't believe me; how else would I be here right now if I were supposedly dead?”

“I don't know; that's what I'm trying to figure out!” he exclaims, gesticulating wildly.

“Can you just humor me and hear me out?”

He takes a deep breath before ultimately agreeing, “Okay, fine.”

You clasp your hands together. “Okay, um, in my universe, you’re dead.”

“What?!”

You shake your hands and your head. “Ok, no wait! You’re not dead yet, but, uh, you were like on the verge of death when I got put into another universe.”

He looks at you in disbelief. “And you just left me?!”

“It wasn't on purpose! Why would I want to leave you when you’re dying? I don't know how I ended up here! or in the last two other universes!”

He stops you and asks, "Okay, okay, wait—how am I dying?”

You look away awkwardly. “You wanted to change jujutsu society in… a not-so-friendly way... And, um, you were willing to die for your cause.”

“I'm dying the same way you did?”

You return your attention to him. “What?”

Getou nods. “Yeah.”

You shake your head. “What do you mean you're dying the same way I did?”

“In this universe, you’re the one who wanted to change jujutsu society in a... not-so-friendly way,” he explains sheepishly.

“Holy shit,” you mutter to yourself.

He nods again. “So, in yours, our roles are reversed.”

“And I'm dead already? I didn't even last as long as you?”

“Well, yeah, I guess," he shrugs, "but it worked; there hasn't been a curse, at least not a special-grade one, since you died." His eyes gleam as he looks up at you. “Did I succeed?”

You bite the inside of your cheek anxiously and shake your head.

“I'm dying for nothing, then?”

You look away and mumble, “My Getou is okay with it; he knew he might fail—he knew Gojo was the only one who could probably change anything—but he still wanted to try.”

“Okay, well, this—” he gestures to himself, “Getou isn't okay with it.”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, well, you’re also still alive, so it doesn't really affect you that much, now does it?”

“Still! You just told me one version of myself is dead—or dying—and I'm supposed to be chill with that?”

You stare at him blankly. “Your version of me is dead.”

Getou grows quiet, and you can almost physically see how his demeanor wilts away.

“Sorry.”

“It's fine,” he says, shaking his head. “You said you were in two other universes before this one, right?”

You nod.

“What were they like?”

You smile as you think back on the previous universes: “We were both alive and happy, and we were together in them.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah... and curses didn't exist either.”

“Huh,” he says ambivalently, like he's not sure whether to be happy for his other selves or be bitter that that isn't him. “Tell me more?”

“In the first one, we were actually on a date in some forest that I apparently loved.”

He stares at you wide-eyed, completely engrossed in your retellings.

“In the second one, we were married.”

A smile tugs at his lips. “Really?”

You nod. “We even adopted two daughters.”

“What were they like?” he wonders, enamored by some alternate universe of you two.

“I'm not sure; I didn't get to meet them,” you confess meekly. “But I know their names were Nanako and Mimiko, and they loved doing your hair and makeup. You adored them, and I'm sure I adored them too.”

He nods wistfully. “In your universe, were... were we together?”

“For a bit.” You look away sadly. “We broke up when you, uh, went off and wanted to-“

“Change jujutsu society,” he chimes in.

“Yeah... How'd you-“

“Same thing here, just roles reversed, remember?” He laughs sadly.

You nod. “Did you still love me? even after I'd gone off and did what I did?”

“I did. I do,” he quickly corrects himself. “Did you?”

“I still do.”

The two of you sit looking away from each other in glum silence. It's hard to stay upbeat about your happy alternate selves when your actual selves are currently dying or dead.

“Kinda feels like we got the short end of the stick, don't you think?” Getou mumbles softly.

“Huh?”

“Well, I mean, there are no curses in those universes, and we’re both alive and happy, but in ours we’re dead?” he elaborates.

You nod reluctantly. “Well yeah, but I don't know; I guess it's kinda nice to know that it worked out in at least one universe.”

“Don't you wish it worked out in ours?”

“Of course I do, Getou; what kind of question is that?" you scoff. "You think I want to go back to my universe just to watch you die?”

“Well,” Getou pauses, turning to face you, “what if you don't go back?”

Your gaze zeroes in on his. “What?”

“What if you stay?…”

You abruptly stand up and chuckle uncomfortably. “Getou-“ your sentence is cut short by an echo of your name that only you seem to hear because you're the only one gazing in the general direction it seemed like it came from.

Getou joins you on your feet and follows your stare, but when he realizes you aren't staring at anything, he returns his sight to you.

“Think about it.”

His voice snaps you out of your trance, and you look back at him with a small frown.

“I'm practically dead in your universe, and you're dead in mine, but we’re together right now!" he says, taking your hand in his. "Maybe the universe put you into mine for a reason— so we don't have to go back to one where we’re not together…”

You struggle to swallow; your mouth suddenly goes dry as Getou stares at you in full, unadulterated hope, and you can't bring yourself to say anything to crush that.

“Y/N, wouldn't that be nice?”

You nod and murmur, “It would.”

“Then?” he asks expectantly.

Someone calling out your name echoes in your head again, and you quickly look down the street to now see a small, bright light in the distance, and you know your time here is soon coming to an end.

“I... I can't stay, Getou.”

His voice cracks as he panickedly asks, “Why?”

"Because,” you explain with a shake of your head, “I'm not your Y/N, and you're not my Getou.”

“I could be,” he says confidently, or he would have if it weren't for the way his voice trembled.

Your vision goes blurry from the tears welling up in your eyes as you shake your head.

“We could try!”

You sniffle and reiterate, “I can't stay.”

“Please,” he begs through his sobs. “Please, we can make it work.”

You look away from him, trying to fight back your tears, but it's futile; you’re a complete mess, just like he is now. “No.”

His hands shake as he grips your face and forces you to look at him. “Y/N, please, I'm begging you.”

“I cant.”

“Don't leave me again.”

The same voice calling out your name echoes in your head again, this time louder, and the bright light is getting bigger and closer.

“I don't want to go back to a universe where you’re just gonna leave me either, but,” you sob, weakly clinging onto the wrists of his hands that are still on your face.

“So stay.”

You shake your head and take his hands off your face. “I won't.”

Getou’s head goes limp and drops as sobs shake his entire body, and you can't help but think that's exactly how you'll look when you return to your universe and have to deal with the death of your Getou.

“Please,” he pleads.

You're both in tears as you lift his head up by his chin to look at you. The voice calling your name echoes even louder, and the bright light is getting closer by the second.

“You’re not my Getou, and I'm not your Y/N.”

He nods reluctantly. “I know, but...“

The bright light is only a few feet away at this point, and the voice echoing in your head is so loud that it's giving you a migraine—you know this is your last few minutes, if that, in this universe, so you lean in and take Getou’s lips into yours—a goodbye kiss for a Getou who you'll never see again, a goodbye kiss for a Getou who desperately needs one when he never got one from his y/n. You pull away and cradle his cheek gently.

“I have to go say goodbye to my Getou now; I think he’s waiting for me.”

He nods. “If he’s anything like me, he’ll want a goodbye kiss too.”

A faint smile tugs at your lips. “I know.”

Getou doesn't get the chance to respond when you're suddenly gone—completely vanished right before his eyes.

You, on the other hand, are back again, feeling unstable as you float through time and space, and again, the uncertainity of the feeling forces your eyes open, but this time you're met with only one thing—the image of you on your Getou’s chest. With every passing second, it grows closer, as does his voice calling out for you, and before you know it, you're back in your body, looking up at him with a gasp.

“Y/N?” he asks weakly.

You're still in tears from the previous universe as you now pull him into your embrace.

He winces, and you quickly let go of him. “Sorry.”

He smiles at you with blood in his mouth and teeth. “It's okay.”

You have to force yourself to look away to try and choke back a sob, but Getou notices immediately and slowly lifts up his remaining hand to cradle your cheek.

“It’s okay, Y/N.”

You nod. “I know.”

“You’ll be okay.”

“I know,” you croak out.

“Kiss me?” He asks out of breath, knowing he doesn't have much longer.

You don't hesitate to lean in and kiss him, ignoring how it tastes like blood and tears as well as how cold his lips feel. You ignore it because he's kissing you back. He’s kissing you with all the power his frail body can muster, and it makes up for all the years, months, weeks, days, minutes, and seconds that your lips haven’t touched. But just as quickly as he kisses you, he stops, but it's gradual; he gradually stops kissing, moving, and breathing. It doesn't take long for it to get to that point, and even when he's not kissing back, you still kiss him with some fairy-tale hope that it will bring him back, that your kiss will somehow save him, like he's Snow White and you're Prince Charming. But it doesn't.

It doesnt.

You pull away to look at Getou, whose eyes are glazed over but not closed. You sob as you reach up to close his eyes, only to let your head fall against his chest. He’s so cold. Too cold. That's why you have to stay there on top of him to keep him warm. You'll stay there all night if you have to. But you don't even get the chance to stay there for longer than a few minutes when someone suddenly pulls you off of him, and you look over your shoulder to see Gojo, who's crying as well.

“He’s gone, Y/N.”

"I know," you sniffle, “I know.”

Gojo helps you up to your feet, his hand on your waist to keep you steady as he leads you away from Getou’s body. The further you get from it, the harder you cry.

But it's okay. It’ll be okay because, even though you lost Getou in this universe, you’ll eventually be able to come to peace with it knowing that in a hundred, a thousand, and even a million other universes, you and Getou are living happily ever after.

©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD

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soupandsimple · 4 months

Text

Feelings (with Aaron Hotchner)

[ the lead up of you and neighbor, Aaron, revealing you have feelings for each other ]

* fluff 🩶 (+ light angst)

** have never watched the show, have never wrote for him and will probably never write for him again but I’ve read a ton of his fics and had this idea and just really wanted to write it out and share it!(pls be nice)

…………….

Aaron is your divorcee neighbor; has been for about a year. Within that year, you’d say you’d become pretty good friends with him as well as with his son who he had with him most weekends. To anyone, it was all seemingly platonic from both ends. You’d bake and gift them batches of sweets and he’d take down any packages you may need sent out on his way to work in the morning…etc.

Any unspoken feelings either of you harbored unfortunately only began to come to light when his ex wife, Hayley, was horrifically killed.

Aaron came to your door as soon as he could the night of the tragedy and with glossy eyes said, “Is this a bad time? I need someone to talk to.”

“No, of course not. Come in,” your voice shook, instantly thinking the worst. “What happened Aaron, where’s Jack? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine, he’s with..with Hayley’s family,” he said, struggling to keep up his stoic demeanor before completely breaking down in sobs. “Oh Y/N.. it’s awful, it’s — … you have- you have no idea.”

That was the first night you ever spent together. He had fallen asleep on your shoulder with teary eyes as you ran your fingers through his hair to soothe him. When you both woke up in the morning, Aaron apologized for burdening you with his troubles and said he had to get going to see what was going on with the funeral preparations. Although neither of you mentioned it, there was a shift in your friendship from that day forward.

After giving him some space to tend to what he needed to do, you went over to his place.

“Hi. I was going to come over yesterday but who wants to see anyone after a funeral..” you said lightly, walking in after he gestured you inside his apartment.

“I would have loved if you did.”

You nodded and tried not to blush as he closed the door. “Is Jack here?”

“No. I’m letting him spend one last day with Hayley’s parents while they’re still in town.”

He then went on to explain how the plan was for his sister-in-law, Jess, to start coming around to help out with Jack when he couldn’t be with him but that in the meantime, he’d be looking after him while he took some time off from work while Jack took some time off from school too.

“Well I hope you know you can also count on me helping out too.”

“I wouldn’t ask that of you, but you’re more than welcome to. I know Jack loves having you around...”

You ordered takeout that night so he wouldn’t have to make dinner or be alone and before you left, promised you’d be back in the morning.

“Y/N, when you said you could help I thought you meant after I went back to work. You don’t have to start rearranging your schedule yet, I’m still going to be around for a couple of days.”

“I know…but I know you and I know you’ve been putting up a brave front for me tonight and you don’t have to do that with me. I want to be here for you to lean on these coming days.”

“I don’t-”

“I’ll be here tomorrow, and don’t forget to drink that cup of tea I made you before bed, ” you said with a quick, parting hug, leaving him no time to protest as you were already back inside your own place.

You ended up helping the following days more than he ever expected. Since you were an assistant to an event planner, you worked mostly from home making and getting calls; the hours were very flexible so it gave you the ability to do all you could for the Hotchner boys.

Meals and household chores, like laundry and dishes, were all easier for Aaron to accomplish with you around; you were such a positive encouragement for both of them as you made sure Jack stayed on top of his tasks too, like making his bed, brushing his teeth and cleaning up after himself.

Of course with being over everyday, Jack began clinging to you more than he ever used to and while you loved the little boy to pieces, you were worried if you being around so much would affect him negatively. When you expressed your worries to Aaron one night after Jack went to sleep, he immediately put them to an end.

“I don’t know if you knew this but Hayley knew about you. Jack would talk to her about you … and she enjoyed it— listening to how much you cared for her little boy,” Aaron told you as you both stood leaning against the island in his dimly lit kitchen before you left for the night.

“I didn’t know that,” you answered, eyes beginning to gloss.

So what if he left out the small detail of Hayley telling him he should ask out his pretty neighbor Jack always talked about; that wasn’t the important part of the memory, well, important for the matter at hand anyway.

“And almost every night before bed, Jack tells me that he’s happy you’ve been coming everyday. That you make him feel ‘okay-er’. Y/N, he loves you and he knows you’re not here to replace anyone.”

Mind at ease then, with a small smile and a stray tear or two, you pushed yourself off the kitchen island and hugged yourself into his chest, which he more than happily accepted and embraced you tightly into for a minute.

“Thanks for making me feel ‘okay-er’ about all this,” you said, looking up at him from where your head rested against him.

He smiled down at you and wiped a tear from your cheek. “Thank you for being here for us.”

All was well as the days went on until it was time for Aaron to return to work. Jack had returned to school the day before and since everything went smoothly, Aaron could then confidently go back to work too knowing Jack had readjusted just fine.

But that morning, Aaron took longer than usual to come out dressed for the day after breakfast, and the time frame he could use to take Jack to school before work was starting to get dangerously close to closing.

“Hey Jack, I’m going to go check on your dad. If he doesn’t come out soon you just might be late for school. Stay put while I get him, finish watching your show,” you said, tickling his side a little making him giggle as you walked off to Aarons room.

You knocked twice at his door and when he didn’t answer either time, you took a little bit of a risk and went in uninvited. What you saw was him sitting on the edge of his bed, looking down at the floor pensively, dress shirt untucked and tie undone around his collar.

“Aaron?” you spoke quietly.

“I can’t do this,” he said, still looking down.

You closed the door behind you and slowly walked towards him.

“You can’t do what?”

“Return to the real world.”

Your eyebrows furrowed a bit as you sat down next to him and waited for him to continue.

“It’s been- it’s been so great being here in the apartment with just Jack and you… in our own little private world but I’m afraid— it just all feels so different. I feel different. I don’t think I’m going back mentally the same way I left.”

“Well of course you’re not going back the same. You went through something incredibly traumatizing..”

You grabbed one of the bottom edges of his tie and looked down at your fingers as you delicately ran them back and forth over the smooth silk.

“Aaron, I know you’re a little nervous of stepping back into everyday life and I’m.. a little nervous for you too but you got this. I believe in you. You’re the best at what you do and nobody can take that away from you,” you said, letting go of the tie. When you looked up at him, his eyes were on you and seemed to be full of fondness; it made you blush.

“N-now finish getting ready so you can go drop off that adorable little boy out there in time,” you smiled, nervously standing from where you sat next to him.

As you turned to walk away, he stood too and stretched his hand out to gently grab one of your wrists. You turned back completely and both just looked into each other’s eyes for a few seconds; millions of unspoken words and emotions passing between you.

He then finally spoke.

“I really hope I’m not ruining anything but more than ever, I think it’s important to tell you I’ve had feelings for you for pretty much as long as I’ve known you.”

“I’ve had those feelings too, for you,” you admitted.

Relieved, he smiled and you did the same. Slipping his hand down from your wrist, he then took your hand into his properly and interlocked his fingers with yours.

Towering over you like always, he stepped closer and closer and slowly craned his head down as he gently placed the hand that wasn’t holding yours, behind your head. You both closed your eyes and you could feel his lips right in front of yours but could tell he was hesitant to go further.

“Kiss me Aaron,” you told him with a little tremble in your voice. And although you couldn’t see him, you felt him smile before he softly pushed his lips against yours.

Your first kiss was a tender one but after the initial pull away, both his hands landed on your waist and yours around his neck as you leaned back into each other for a more heated and passionate kiss. It was an internal struggle, but eventually you managed to pull yourself away from his lips completely.

“Jack needs to get to school,” you giggled.

Aaron rested his forehead against yours. “And I need to get to work. This beautiful neighbor of mine believes in me and I don’t want to let her down.”

“Hm, sounds like a smart girl,” you teased.

He stood tall and interlocked his hands with each of yours. “Incredibly smart, incredibly caring, incredibly attractive.. the list could go on,” he concluded, embracing you with a warm hug and a kiss to the top of your head. <3

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner fic #neighbors to lovers #neighbor aaron hotchner

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wpdarlingpan · 4 months

Note

Could we get something with Yandere ouat Peter? Preferably gender-neutral or nb reader.

An idea I had is maybe Hook has a kid, so the character would have grown up in Neverland. I think maybe a platonic Yandere Peter would be v interesting, where he maybe tries to interact with reader as a ‘cool older brother’ sort of figure, despite the fact that reader very much knows exactly who he is and that he’s dangerous. Romantic would be fine too though!

Thank you so much for the request! I apologize it took so long and I have not written in a while so I hope it's okay!

I loved this idea so I had to see how it'll play out. I did the platonic version and although I did use Y/N and made them gender-neutral, I wrote they were 17 for the story's sake. I often have Peter refer to them as a child because in his mind he feels the need to take care of and protect them.

I am considering a part two if people like this idea enough, maybe taking place when the Storybrooke residents arrive.

Warning: Yandere Behavior

Word Count: 2886

-----------------

The Love Of A Brother

-----------------

The day Killian Jones, otherwise known by his more colorful moniker Hook, came to Neverland was a day he would never forget.

He had many men aboard, each desiring to never grow old until they wished. They all had been warned about the dangers that lurk within the water and upon the soil of Neverland but the idea of dying from old age was a more terrifying feat to them.

However, one person had little choice in the matter, as they were still somewhat forced to come to Neverland.

Captain Hook's kid, Y/N.

After the day Mila died it was up to him to become a single parent. Overall he was rather good at it. Always telling stories so that they would be able to sleep at night or sitting by their bedside when they had gotten a cold. But, no matter how much love they held for each other, Killian could not stop going after the man who killed his wife and the mother of his child.

Y/N was 17 the day they had arrived in Neverland and would remain so until the day they left.

This was not a decision Hook made lightly. Bringing the person he cared for more than anyone into the hellish landscape wasn't something he'd wish on his worst enemy (other than Rumpelstiltskin) but the idea of leaving them with no idea when he would return hurt even more.

So he created the rules.

Do not leave the boat without permission.

Do not ever interact with Peter Pan or his shadow.

Avoid the Lost Boys.

"Who is Peter Pan?" They asked their father as the Jolly Roger settled after coming through the portal to Neverland.

"A bloody demon." He responded looking at the dark island as it neared.

Hook began telling the stories that he knew. Even sharing how he had met Peter Pan in the first place. Albeit leaving out what happened to his brother as he blamed himself as well as Pan for the tragedy.

Pan knew he was arriving on the island. Hook riskily contacted him through his shadow to come to a truce before being allowed to arrive on the island.

But there was a little thing Hook had forgotten to mention.

His child.

He had hoped that if none of the inhabitants of the island knew their relation, with Peter assuming they were deckhands or something, they wouldn't be targeted if Peter got bored or wanted to play a game.

But the resemblance was noticeable from the first meeting.

-----------------

As the boat docked onto shore to make an initial supply run, Hook kept Y/N close. Half of the crew, including the two of them, walked carefully through the jungle, avoiding every thorn they came across.

But the real danger was just up ahead. After all, Peter Pan wouldn't be a polite host if he didn't welcome his guests.

The second the pirates entered a clearing they were surrounded by the sound of rustles as the leaves moved around the edge of the clearing and a figure appeared about 20 feet ahead on the other end.

Hook froze, he knew he should have expected him to show himself this early, but a part of him had hoped he wouldn't, not yet at least.

Y/N held onto their bow and arrows tightly as they observed the boy up ahead who looked just a little older than them. Judging by the way he held the spotlight, they had to assume this was Peter Pan.

"Look what we have here, I didn't expect to see you on the island this quickly. I mean after what had happened last time you were here, the idea of returning so willingly was unexpected, Captain." Peter spoke as he neared the group, the Lost Boys forming a circle around them to prevent anyone from running.

Peter inspected the group as they each held some form of weapon. Be it a dagger, sword, or even one with a bow and arrow.

He neared the one with the bow and arrow, the idea of figuring out what else made them so different lingered in his mind. Peter stood closely in front of them, studying their appearance and the subtle yet noticeable looks towards the direction of Hook.

This is when something had clicked.

His brain was no longer assessing the group as a whole or messing with the Captain. His thoughts were reserved for only them. The way they were trying to hide their shaking hands and the way they held onto the bow tighter the closer he got. The shine of their eyes as they looked at him almost like a frightened deer.

He could recognize a scared child anywhere and this time he didn't want it to be his fault. It was like an instinct of protection filled his black heart. Their fearful yet innocent gaze was embedded into his soul. Someone like this simply couldn't live with harsh pirates.

He reached a hand out towards them but Hook stepped in the way. His gaze was harsh yet Peter could easily detect the fear hidden in them. For himself or the child, he wasn't sure.

Peter smirked at Captain Hook as he realized why they had looked so familiar now seeing the similarities in their features and hair color. He had been to distracted by the odd feeling of protection and familiarity to even acknowledge the finding.

"You have a child? My you got busy after leaving last time." He teased as he glanced around the man to see them standing there, their gaze locked onto the ground.

"Stay away from them or so help me you will have wished-" Hook began to say before Peter cut him off.

"You'll do what? Let me remind you, you're here because I allow it. You eat the island's food only because I allow it. You only live because I have use for you yet." He threatened motioning his hand for the Lost Boys to run away.

Y/N took a sigh of relief as the group dispersed but their worry would still remain until Peter was out of their sight. The ideas of the horrors they were told, all of which could happen to them just by being in his presence, filled their anxious mind.

Peter stared at Hook seriously before sending a look and a playful wink toward Y/N, hoping to make them less afraid.

"I'll see you soon." He commented staring directly into their eyes before disappearing.

—————————

Apparently soon meant a few days.

It first began when Y/N was laying on deck, watching the stars when someone appeared next to them and laid down on the spare part of the blanket.

“The stars are beautiful aren’t they?” He spoke as if lying on the ground next to them wasn’t an unusual occurrence.

Y/N was silent, trying to hide the fact they were afraid. The unknowing was terrible, the idea that their father was fast asleep, probably passed out from exhaustion at that, was nerve-wracking as they could not call for help.

“You don’t need to be afraid of me.” Pan said genuinely, staring at the side of their face as he admired their courage to hide their fear.

“Why wouldn’t I be? You have a reputation you know. I’m sure you could get rid of me in a heartbeat.” Y/N was nervous now, it audibly showed through the small stutter that sounded in their sentence.

“That doesn’t mean I want to… Do you know why I’ve brought all these boys to the island?”

“Because they’re lost?”

“Because no one deserves to feel alone.”

Peter Pan believed that because Y/N was an only child who spent their whole life traveling the seas, that they had to be lonely. They are constantly moving and never staying in one place, let alone with people their age.

Then their father, he’s a pirate with a drinking problem who is so obsessed with revenge that even though he is protective and loves his child, Peter couldn’t tell you which the man valued more.

Revenge or love?

If Peter were to take her right now, he could be their older brother. Someone who takes care of their little sibling in the face of everything like heartbreak, anxiety, everything that would make them feel anything other than happiness.

Y/N would be his sibling. He’d be their only brother.

Being an older brother to Y/N sounded perfect to him.

—————————

Their next encounter was when they had been sitting on the edge of the beach as the Jolly Roger was anchored nearby.

Y/N's father had allowed them to hang out along the shore alone.

The captain and crewmates were planning on staying on the edge of the jungle that was Neverland. He had figured they would be okay for a couple hours and that he could hear if they needed anything.

He knew the dangers that posed leaving them there alone but he thought they would be cornered again the second they entered the tree line so there really wasn’t anywhere ‘safe’ at the moment.

That’s how he rationalized it at least.

But when Peter saw them sitting alone on the shore, the mermaids moving closer by the second, he saw Hook as irresponsible and unfit to care for Y/N.

He quickly approached them, the sight of him causing the mermaids to swim away quickly, realizing that was not someone they wanted to lure in.

“Y/N.” Peter said as he approached, sitting in the sand next to them.

“What are you doing?” They spoke questioningly “I thought you would be bothering my father and his crew.”

“Is that what he counted on. Me leaving you alone as they frolicked or whatever they are doing in the jungle? Is that why he left you here defenseless?” He replied getting more confident that Killian wasn’t fit to take care of Y/N.

“I don’t like what you’re accusing him of.” Y/N replied, glaring at Pan in front of them but if anything it was adorable.

He raised his hands jokingly as if he actually felt threatened by them.

“I’m just saying, he knows the dangers of this island. If it’s not me, it’s the lost boys, then the Dreamshade, and as you almost realized, the mermaids.” Peter counted off making Y/N realize what the subtle splashing noise they heard was. “He shouldn’t have left you alone.”

“I’m 17. I can take care of myself for a few hours.” They argued, much like if they were telling their older sibling they didn’t need to be babysat.

“Sure you can. But you don’t need to when I’m here.”

———————-

From then on he would appear randomly whenever he knew Y/N was alone.

When they weren’t, he was silently protecting them from the shadows.

If we’re sketching in their room? He’d sit next to them silently, allowing them to focus. Meanwhile he was busy admiring their skills even if it was a simple picture of the sky.

They volunteered to go look for some more supplies on the island?

They mysteriously got separated from the group for a few hours.

He took them saying ‘I can take care of myself for a few hours’ rather literally. In those few hours, they got an entire tour of the main points of the island.

Even the camp.

Peter had them sit on his designated chair, introducing Y/N as their little sibling. Each of the boys came up to them and introducing themselves enthusiastically as the proposed all the fun games they could play if they were to stay.

Even when Y/N emphasized greatly that they couldn’t.

Each and every time.

When their birthday came around Peter gifted them a necklace, his initials were on the inside, to protect them from anyone who finds their way to the island.

Although he made sure to use his magic to conceal the necklace from the eyes of Hook.

Not that he cared about what the man thought, after all nothing would keep him from his little sibling.

Nothing.

-----------

The day Peter had been preparing for came sooner than expected.

Hook had discovered a way to kill the dark one and his need for the island was gone. Meaning it was time to return back to the enchanted forest.

The crew had begun preparing to return back to the forest. Packing up their supplies and strapping down anything they had on deck to prepare for traveling through the portal.

Y/N was packing up anything loose in their room. They had mostly finished other than having to pack the rest of their art supplies.

“So you were just going to leave and not tell your older brother? I'm offended” Peter spoke appearing in their room and sitting on their bed.

In their deal, he had allowed Hook to leave once he had found a way to accomplish his goal.

That was before he had met Y/N.

“I was never going to say in Neverland. I was always going to leave. I don’t know what you were expecting.” Y/N spoke harshly trying to push him away.

They had to admit, after all this time spent with Peter, that it was hard to view him as some irredeemable demon. He comforted them when they had nightmares of their mother’s death, protected them from the mermaids, did their favorite activities with them (even if he was not really invited), and seemed to love them.

Peter knew they were just trying to protect themself from the pain of leaving so they lashed out. He could tell they were saddened at the thought of leaving him. This made him feel warm inside.

Y/N assumed they’d be fine once leaving Neverland, they would have to forget about Peter Pan and their life would go back to normal, well as normal as it gets.

Suddenly they heard approaching footsteps.

“Y/N? Are you ready to go? We are about to enter the portal now.” Killian called through the closed door, his eagerness to leave the island covering the fact that there was a muffled sound as he spoke. Hook was ecstatic, his time for revenge had come. His head was in the clouds as he ran over his plan over and over again. Causing him to not even think to just poke his head in to check on his child, just of the idea that the portal was closing any minute

The muffled noise was Peter whispering that he would not let Hook leave if they said anything other than that they were ready.

Y/N knew if they weren’t allowed to leave, their father would be devastated.

“Yes father, I’m ready!” They called back and the two listened as the man’s footsteps grew farther and farther away.

“You can’t leave Y/N. You’re my little sibling, I have to take care of you.” He spoke manipulatively the second Hook was out of distance.

“I have to. If it’s up to me, I’ll never leave my father. He raised me, he loves me! He will take care of me better than you ever can.” Y/N retorted, frustrated at the situation. Why wouldn't Peter just go away? They knew they cared for him, even just a little bit. But their father was very important to them. Even if he had been a little distracted while searching for revenge, they didn't feel his love any less.

A loving father or a over protective, self-proclaimed brother.

They knew which had meant more. They had made their choice, one they couldn't vocalize as Peter softly blew poppy dust into their face, causing them to pass out instantly.

“Then it isn’t up to you.” as he spoke “This is for your own good. I love you Y/N and I know you love me. You are better off at my side.”

He picked them up bridal style as he and Y/N disappeared off the boat and reappeared in the camp. All of their stuff appears on the ground off to the side of them.

"Welcome to your new home, Y/N"

-------------

Hook had gone to Y/N’s cabin to check on them, the portal closing behind him as they could see the Enchanted Forest off in the distance.

He was eager to see his child, wanting to celebrate the idea of finally being able to avenge his wife and their mother. Hook knocked and didn’t hear an answer assuming they had been disoriented or hurt by the portal, he opened the door quickly.

But, he was met with an empty room and no Y/N.

He looked around for any signs frantically before he spotted a letter on the bed.

Hook,

You were always too focused on the idea of revenge that you neglected what was in front of you. You never deserved Y/N and you never will. Each time you left them alone, I was there. I comforted them, I protected them, and I loved them. Each thing is something you couldn't do while you searched for something you did not even know existed. Y/N will be better off without you.

I always wondered if you'd choose revenge over love.

I guess I have my answer.

Their brother,

Peter Pan

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adventuringblind · 10 months

Text

Breaking Point

LandOscar x Reader

Genre: angst

Summary: the tragedy and revival of Lando Norris and Max's sister as told by mostly Lestappen

Warning: sexual and physical abuse. Panic attacks, hospitals, injury descriptions

Notes: I'm sorry to the Carlos girlies for my crimes. T_T he was just a good villain for this story, and I feel so bad about it because he's wickedly out of character.

Masterlist

When Max thought about his sister dating a driver, he thought that meant one. No, instead she's dragging Max to talk to her partners. Plural. Meaning: more then one.

It's not that he doesn't like it. It's just a little shocking, is all. He figured her and Lando would get together eventually since they were similar in age. He didn't know that Carlos was also in the picture.

But Carlos is good guy, loyal, a provider like Max himself.

Plus Carlos is Charles' teammate and they get long. Charles tells him all the time that they have a fun working relationship. The same Charles who is ready to murder Jos.

The Monegasque and him had gotten together in 2020 right after they came back from lockdown. They moat certainly did not follow protocols.

Charles has just dragged Max and his sister into the Leclerc family. A place that they feel welcomed and safe.

Needless to say that Charles adopted the protective older brother role over Max's sister. So when he starts noticing things happening around the garage with Carlos, he's immediately on the hunt for what's happening.

The first sign something has gone wrong is halfway through 2021, about six months into the relationship between Max's sister and her two partners. Living in an abusive household has give all the Verstappen children a unique was of sensing when somethings not right. And right now, it's written all over his sisters face as her and Lando are sitting in Max's driver room.

"How come you're here and not with Carlos?" He asked. They shared a wary glance and shrugged.

"Wanted to see you for a while." Was the excuse.

Charles is the next to notice something. A month after the first incident, he runs into the trio arguing around the side of the Ferrari garage. He listens for a while despite him knowing it's wrong, but he can't help it.

"Both of you are idiots! Am I the only one who cares about us?"

"No! It's just-"

"Shut up and leave me. I'll see you both tonight. Be ready for me."

Charles only peaks out from his hiding space after Carlos leaves. He can see the two shaking and reassuring each other.

But arguments happen all the time, right?

Charles and Max keep a closer eye on them after that. Both the younger seem to be isolating themselves and neither if the older is happy with that.

The next incident is one the should've never happened. Max regrets not seeing it sooner. Charles blames himself for nit seeing the signs.

Their off week in Monaco is an enjoyable one. Charles and Max had gone out to a club with his sister and her partners. They were to wrapped up in each other to really pay attention to what else was happening.

Max's phone rings at an ungodly hour. He looks at the caller ID and something twists inside of him.

"Lando? Everythi-"

"Apartment. Need you please."

Lando sounds winded on the other line and panicked. Then the call ends and Max is left in silence.

He thanks the adrenaline for being able to get Charles awake and into the car. It's a painfully slow drive.

The pair gets through the front desk easily and take the stairs two at a time. They stop at the door and Max tries to listen for anything.

Nothing. Silence. An eery quite that is unatraul for the trio.

Max bangs his fist on the door. There is movment from the otherside as a latch is undone.

Carlos stands blocking the door. "Max?"

"Hey, Lando called and said-"

"Lando called?"

Charles and Max share a look. The spainard doesn't seem right. He's out of breath, his clothes are messed up, and his eyes are rapidly scanning around the area behind them.

"Can we come in? Is he okay?" Charles asks, but receives no response. Max takes matters into his own hands. The little patience he has finally vanishing as he pushes past Carlos.

Max starts searching for his sister and the Brit while Charles confines a frantic Carlos to the kitchen. The apartment is wrecked. There is broken class on the floor of the bathroom.

He stops when he gets to the bedroom. The scene before him sends his stomach up his throat. Lando is frantically trying get his sister into clothes. She's unconscious and Lando is wrecked.

"Max!"

The Dutch jumps into action and attempts to asses the situation. It looks like they were probably having sex (as much as he hates to think about it). How had it gone so wrong?

"What do you need?" He'll ask what happened after they get situated.

"She's unconscious and hasn't woken up yet and I don't know what to do." He says it in one breath. Max registers how small he sounds and the tears on the Brits cheeks.

"How did it happen?"

Max tries to remain calm, but it's getting increasingly difficult to do so as Lando is shaking his head no and continues trying to hoist the girl into his arms, but his body isn't cooperating.

Max does it for him and bundles his sister into his arms. Lando nearly falls over just walking and Max has to call Charles for help.

"Lando- I didn't mean to-"

"Stay away, Carlos. You say that everytime but you never mean it."

A pang of guilty realization hits Max. Carlos had done this? But why? What was he trying to acheive?

The Spainard doesn't follow as they leave the building. He doesn't even try to stop them.

They end up in the emergency room. Lando had failed to mention he is also hurt and now is getting stitches down his back and a brace for his knee. Charles stays with Lando while Max sits with his sister. She's awake but unable to use her vocal chords for the next month at least.

Max is taken off guard when she starts frantically crying for Lando. He does his best at soothing her like his mom and Victoria used to do.

It's hours later when they finally get to leave. Charles sets them up in the guest room of the flat then comes and joins Max on the couch in the living area.

"I don't understand what happened in the slightest." Charles tosses his legs over Max's lap.

"I do. I saw what the room looked like. My sister was unconscious and tied to the headboard." Max chokes on the last part. As if growing up with Jos wasn't painful enough. He'd take her with him even before she was an adult. They worked so hard to heal from the horrors of that house.

"Sexual and physical then? Do you think they will tell the FIA? It could get Carlos dismissed from the sport."

Max shakes his head. There are so few people who even know about their upbringing still. Sure, most have an idea, but that doesn't give any details to how bad it had been.

"One day at a time."

~~~~~

Lando is very keen on not letting her get out of bed the next day despite her best efforts. She takes to yelling at him through text to speech to at least sit up so they can process the events.

They don't get that luxury as Max and Charles are dragging them out of bed for breakfast. It looks worse then it really is, in her head. She's dealt with worse. She could handle Carlos and his anger. One which technically hadn't been her fault but she'd rather it be her then Lando who had originally taken the brunt.

They finish eating in silence. She knows Max is going to get his answer eventually, so she nods at Lando to get him to explain. No point in drawing it out.

"Thank you for coming to get us last night." The Brit starts. His hands now becoming the most intresting thing.

"Are you going to tell us what happened?"

"Things were going well for a while. It was nice and we were all happy and in love and Carlos was sweet and caring."

"But?"

"But I'm not the most well behaved person..." There is a red tint on Lando's cheeks. "Carlos had been struggling with Ferrari and needed a reprieve, and we became that for him. It was consensual and stuff, but then it felt distant. He was doing things we hadn't agreed upon and getting progressively angrier. It became something neither of us looked forward to anymore."

She catches the two older boys' looks. Max is furious and Charles looks betrayed, in a way.

"He um-" Lando breaks. His breathing is more labored then before. The female takes his hand in her own and runs her free one down his spine. "-It escalated when he finally lost patience with me. It was really bad. I've never been so scared in my life. I safeworded out but he didn't listen. Then it kept happening. Max- your sister became your stand in."

Well she was hoping he wouldn't tell Max that part. He didn't need to know the details of what Carlos did.

"We tried to ask for help a few times. Jon walked into my room amd saw us frantically covering bruises. Then Carlos got more mad and more possessive."

"The argument outside of Ferrari. Carlos said he didn't want you guys to be exposed. I thought he meant the relationship." Charles' eyes cloud with guilt. The realization hits him harder then he'd like.

"Yesterday when we went out, I knew it was going to be hard. Carlos had been frustrated more often with Max and his own team so she'd gotten the brunt of the hits for the last month. Then this guy tried a move and it was a downward spiral from there." Lando trails off the story with a shrug and reassuring squeeze to her hand.

"What made you call?" Max is very clearly trying to restrain himself.

"He had a look to him like he wasn't even present. I went to get something for him and then called you. She was already unconscious at that point and Carlos was freaking out so he stared throwing things which is how I got the cut on my back."

Max determines that they will be staying with him until further notice. He tells the staff at the front desk to not let Carlos up. They also end up having to block his number due to the sheer number of texts and missed calls.

Daniel ends up finding out because Carlos won't leave the McLaren space alone. The Austrailian becomes more like a guard dog armed with a friendly smile.

Her and Lando already had a strong bond, but sharing such an experience certainly pulls them closer together.

Things get better one pain stakingly day at a time. Aside from their polar opposite responses. Max says he's getting whiplash from it and Daniel says a few times Zak might have a stroke if Lando keeps up like he is.

Lando had become oddly defiant. He already was in certain ways, but now it's just leaking over into his everyday life. Like setting a oundary wasn't enough, being a brat in the bedroom isn't enough, simply saying no isn't an option. Lando is blatantly defiant and struggles to take any kind d of direction.

Versus his female counterpart who is much quieter. She does anything that anybody asks her to do. She rolls over for them. Because it's better to do that then make it worse for herself. A thing she learned from living with Jos.

Where Lando goes looking for attention, she is avoiding it at all costs. Nobody is sure anymore of how to help them and therapy is a slow process.

Charles reminds Max daily. "One step at a time."

~~~~~

Oscar wasn't sure about his rookie season. His entrance into the sport was not the best and he's received so much backlash that he's prepared for copious amounts if hate.

Lando is friendly with him. Certainly doesn't let himself get close, but he's there for emotional support and advice.

They warm up to eachother eventually. Lando even introduces his girlfriend to him and it feels like he's been succesful in creating some kind of trust between them. Not in a 'your my favorite person' kind of way, but a budding friendship at least.

Oscar, who is just trying to get through his rookie season, manages to screw it all up. How, You may ask, did he do this? Simple, he broke the number one rule of falling for his teammate and his girlfriend. They were not supposed to do this to him! How is he supposed to move forward normally when all he wants to do is join their cuddling session in Lando's room?! All they do is comment him and cheer him up and it does something to his brain that he doesn't like.

Well - he does like it and to much at that.

He'd been in enough relashonships over his life to pick out certain things. Namely, who is typically the more do.inate one. Whether that be life decisions or in the bedroom, it really doesn't matter, but Oscar can clearly see neither of them are.

This leaves Oscar with two options. He can leave them alone and pune in silence, or he can ask Max his opinion because the Dutch driver is honest. He chooses the Latter.

Oscar knocks on the door of the room and hears some shuffling. It swings open and it's obvious Max wasn't expecting him. Chest exposed for anyone walking by to see.

"Oscar? If this is about Lando and my sister then you can come in. Otherwise, leave me alone."

"The first one."

Max steps aside and let's Oscar in. He's met with a sprawled out Charles on the bed who is also only in sweats.

"Oscar?"

"Charles?"

"He's here about the children."

"Oh good! Please end my suffering."

Oscar drags out a chair and sits down. His mind is running every possibility of what this means. "How do I end your suffering?"

Max looks him dead in the eye. "They won't shut up about you and I'm tired of them waking me up everytime there is a decision to be made. They need reassuring for everything even if they agree. And I love my sister, but I also love to sleep."

"They talk about me?"

Charles groans in annoyance. "Non stop, mate. It never ends. Oscar this and Oscar that." He mocks.

"But before you do anything you should know that they've been through some shit together. If you hurt them after they've done so much to heal, I will not hesitate to send you into the barrier."

He thanks Max for the... encouragement? Threat? Both? And then leaves. He goes straight for Lando's room at the Hilton next.

He knocks and again gets met with a sleepy Lando. Cmust be something about tonight specifically because Lando only sleep at inconvenient times.

"Oscar! Everything alright? You look like you've run a mile or somwthing."

Oscar fumbles. He forgot how hard feeling can be. Lando let's him in and he almost just breaks. Both of them were probably all comfortable in bed before he ruined it.

"Osc? Seriously mate? If something is wrong you can tell us."

Fuck it, he's already come this far. Might as well throw all caution to the wind.

He smashes his lips down onto Lando's and pulls off. He's going to get addicted if he doesn't pull back now.

There is no response. A shared look between the two and then a smirk from the Brit which throws Oscar off entirely.

"So you think you can handle me then?"

~~~~~

Lando is very please with the way things have turned out. The duo is back to a trio with Oscar now involved.

It's a different dynamic then it was with Carlos. The Austrailian is more gentle then the Spainard ever was.

They haven't told Oscar all of the details yet. Just that he should be wary of Carlos because he can go overboard and get possessive despite them not dating anymore. Lando won't admit it to himself that sometimes he worries Carlos will actually try something that will have long term consequences.

Oscar, for what it's worth, has fended off Carlos on and off track. He's also more perceptive then Lando had initially though. Or he's just really bad at hiding his emotions. He picks up and where not to touch, things that trigger the two, their reactions to certain events. Oscar doesn't pry, but Lando knows he's catching on.

The hardest part to work through had been the sexual aspect. Talking about it only does so much after a certain point. Prior to Oscar, they'd slowly started to do things. They'd done a few joint counseling sessions that helped them talk through a plan and set some boundaries.

The Australian doesn't push to do anything. But finally, they get to a point where they can talk about it with him. The pair is certainly nervous, but he respects them, asks questions, and clarifies his own boundaries. It's such a drastic turn around from what they had before.

Oscar's patience doesn't waiver, and as they build up confidence, he also gets a but more bold. It just - it works. Lando isn't sure exactly to describe it other then he feels safe, loved, and wanted at all times of the day and it's not just from one half of his partners.

Eventually Lando is able to slip back into the, much more defiant, version of himself. It's fun seeing just how long it takes Oscar to break.

The answer: he doesn't.

That much is made apparent when the trio, Max, and Charles go out for dinner and Lando decideds to test the limits.

Admittedly, he probably went to far. But in his defense Oscar was obviously not giving him any attention. He wasn't meaning to do what he did, it was an accident, and he apologized immediately, but Oscar never wavered. Barely batted an eye at him.

He left Lando with a smirk and a 'We'll sort this later.' They did and Lando was sore the next morning.

They fall into a rhythm. Pre-race kisses and post race cuddles.

Then Carlos shows up again.

~~~~~

She could tell by the radio that Oscar was disappointed with his race. His car had taken damage from Carlos and he'd lost position because of it.

He'd been keeping it off track until recently. Now he's getting more aggressive and frankly, it scares her.

Her and Lando are wary as they walk into his room in the McLaren hospitality. They enter without knocking but Oscar is laying on the ground with his arms open.

"I need a hug."

They oblige and fall onto the floor with him.

"Is it bad that I-"

"If you really need it then we can." She giggles, stopping him before he can get in his head to much.

"How'd you know?!"

"Mate, you're laying on the floor and these suits don't hide everything."

It's so different compared to Carlos. Oscar checks in every few minutes. Reminds them they can say no at any point. It's almost therapeutic, in a way.

They are all very naked and vulnerable at the moment. Which is horrible considering the door isn't locked. Which would normally be fine since it's a rule to knock before entering. In this case, however. It's awful because Carlos has just opened the door wide open.

She freezes; suddenly aware of every sound and feeling around her. Lando manhandles her body behind him and pulls something, a small throw blanket, to cover them. She feels guilty for not giving it to Oscar and leaving him to fend for himself.

Lando's breathing is labored. Her throat hurts from the last encounter they had. The memory burned into her. Her voice strains thinking about it as tears well in her eyes.

"You really couldn't knock? You just had towalk in on us to, as if you hadn't done enough already?"

"Glad to see nothings changed. They're still whores and eventually going to play you."

"Haven't done it yet mate. Personally, I think they are very loyal."

Oscar stand and puts his clothes back on. Almost like Carlos isn't even there.

"Also, for the record, if somebody looks at you with the fear they are, you've fucked up badly. Now if you'll excuse me I have two lovers I need to comfort."

Oscar slams the door on Carlos. Then he pulls clothes back onto both of them. More specifically, his clothes.

"Alright, I didn't want to ask before and figured you'd tell me what Carlos did on your own time. We are officially out of time. I promise to sit here and listen and you can take as much time as you need."

And they broke. Huddled all together and spilling every detail of what drove them this far. Oscar listened intently, validated feelings, and didn't judge. He tensed every occasionally at hearing what Carlos did, but aside from that, he tries not to show his anger.

"I'm going to make a call, alright?"

~~~~~

Max is angry. He's seeing Red and it's not just because Charles is two steps in front of him In a Ferrari shirt.

No, he's upset because Oscar called him and said his sister is crying. The Austrailian is going to have a fist to the face when he sees him. Which isn't long because they are outside of the hospitality building.

Max gets a grip of Oscar's shoulders and starts ranting. He's not even aware of half the stuff he's saying. He doesn't snap out of it until he feels Charles tap his shoulder and tell him his sister has been talking to him for the last few minutes.

Max is about to apoligize for misreading the situation. Then Carlos comes into Oscar's line of sight and the Dutch realizes that even he has a breaking point. A snapping point, more like.

Max is instantly grateful he's gripping Oscar's because the Australian is fighting to get a hold of Carlos. The Spainard is spewing vile thing directed at his sister and Lando.

It becomes a fight between Oscar trying to escape while Max and Charles keep him from doing something he can't take back.

"Oscar!" The pair comes to eye level with him. "He's not worth risking your career." He seems to come to his senses and relaxs. Max and Charles both ease away tentatively.

And Max regrets it instantly as Oscar walks right up to him, but lays not a finger on Carlos.

"Honestly Carlos, was it not enough to break them sexually? Physically? You also feel the need to humiliate them? How would the paddock feel if they knew what you truly are?" It's said just loud enough to elicit a few whispers.

Max and his Monegasque partner (who is also mad at Carlos still) bring the trio to their room and make sure they are okay. He hates leaving his sister like this, but he can rest easy knowing she's in good hands.

"Hey Max?"

"Yeah Charlie?"

"I guess it's the people who are the most patient who snap the hardest, huh?"

And Max couldn't have said it better himself. Maybe it's a good thing he's not patient...

563 notes · View notes

lainsshop · 8 months

Text

We’re Simply Meant To Be 𝜗𝜚

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Tags: fluff, human alastor, out of character(?), tnbc, eveloping relationship(?) n probably more..

Song: Sally’s Song & We’re Simply Meant To Be - The Nightmare Before Christmas

A/N: Here we out.. Alastor is so Jack coded in someway like walk with meeee!! Not proud of this one tbh..

“… I sense there's something in the wind, that feels like tragedy's at hand-” The ringing in your ears and the dust around the destroyed hotel feel up your senses as you try to stand up. You were bleeding out after fighting against Adam with Alastor. You regained consciousness after remembering what happened, you coughed and begin to search for him.

“And though I'd like to stand by him,” You knew that he was okay but the changes are never zero, you couldn’t risk it- you couldn’t risk never telling him what you felt all those years being together before and after dead, even if it was a silly joke-

𝜗𝜚

“If we still don’t have partners by the age of 30, we should marry each other, what ya think?” You playfully suggest as you hand him a glass of rye. Soft jazz could be heard in Alastor’s radio as you both sat on his dining table. “Now, we both know that we won’t have a someone by that age, probably never.” He chuckled. “I know, I know- I was just joking.” You were lying.. deep down you wanted that, you wanted to be next to him and love him more than a friend but something was holding you back from confessing.

𝜗𝜚

“Can't shake this feeling that I have, the worst is just around the bend,” You continued to walk around, you couldn’t even see the rest of the crew so you were probably a lot farther from them. “And does he notice my feelings for him..?” Your legs betrayed you as you tumbled down on the ground, you became dizzy and rested against a demolished wall. “And will he see how much he means to me?”

“I think it’s not to be- what will become of me, dear friend?” You began to questioned yourself as you tried to push through the pain. “Where will my actions lead us then?”

Cough.

“Althought I’d like to join the crowd, in their enthusiastic cloud, try as I may, it doesn’t last… and will we ever end up together?” Questions. Questions running through your head.

What would happened? What if you weren’t so fucking pathetic and just told him everythi- “And will we ever end up together? No, I think not, it’s never to be ecome-“ You looked at your bloody hands as drops of tears started to appeared. This is your final moment? “For I am not the one..”

You were about to close your eyes as you heard footsteps, vague footsteps getting louder and louder and a radio static-

You quickly looked were the sound was coming from and you nearly jumped when you saw him so near to you.

“… Al-” “Shush, my dear, you’re severely wounded so I should suggest to not speak at the moment, hm?” A beat of silence.

“May I?” He was asking about your injury so you just simply nodded and let him do whatever. He started to help you with the wound. As he did that, he suddenly spoke- “… my dearest friend, if you don’t mind,” You looked at him wondering what he was gonna say next but he was trying to look for the right words and he looked at you with a soft gaze. “I’d like to join you by your side,” You felt a swirly feeling, you didn’t wanted to assume what he meant but you knew it was a positive gesture especially coming from him. “Where we can gaze into the stars-“

You see, there was rare moments where Alastor used to speak like this with you when y’all were alive, you never knew what he meant but in that moment you knew what he meant now. He was- “And sit together now and forever, for it is plain as anyone can see,” He gently grabbed your hand and gave it a small kiss. You both looked at each other with a soft smile.

“… we’re simply meant to be.” You both serenaded.

#alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel

278 notes · View notes

fricc-darn · 5 months

Text

Warning for abuse involving teens and adults (mental and physical), poor mental health, and just upsetting topics

None of them asked for this life, not in the slightest. Not one person was prepared for this to be the outcome of their ascension. Everyone wanted to go home. Whatever was left behind of their old lives, they'd gladly choose anything but this. It seemed like each day, someone new would be added to the system. So many people with their aspirations and desires ripped away from them. It was a cycle of tragedy.

The lives they had lived were difficult, cruel, and shameful. Being utterly disenfranchised meant that society would turn a blind eye to the most vulnerable. It made them easy targets, to be picked off the street like ripened berries. They were lulled into this fellowship with false promises of self-improvement and community.

To be told that the pain they felt was nothing but a wound that would soon heal with tougher skin. With guidance, their gifted potential would shine through. Every single person involved had a purpose. To live a devoted life to Luna's cause. An eternity of paradise awaited them after death.

The day of true enlightenment would come when midnight whispers came to them sweetly. When it happens, death shouldn't be feared but embraced, as they have surpassed this life. That is when this world and all of its unfairness would come to an end. They would survive. She had chosen for them to live. It had given them hope.

But those whispers never came. Yet, people were told their time had come.

If only they had known that they would be used as some kind of lab rat. Everyone's naiveté and what remained of their childlike wonder were weaponized against them repeatedly. Having their bodies humiliated in the name of spirituality. Their flesh was mangled by barbarism and left to rot. Ultimately, they would never be treated with the deserved humanity, even after death. If only they had known to stop feeding into the lies.

They were worn thin. Was anything they were taught real? It had to be, to some degree. This world was supposed to be salvation, but the skepticism couldn't be helped. They did what they were supposed to. Cleansing the filth that tainted their souls. Putting what little confidence they had left into Luna. A perfect fairytale for this never-ending nightmare. Maybe life would have been kinder if they weren't deeply troubled individuals. Loving parents? A stable environment? Better physical and mental health? Anything?

Yet, what could anyone do about what was said and done? This was a prison for tortured souls.

Not only were their experiences shared, but now so were their pain, their sadness, and their anger. A collective burning resentment felt so heavy that they wondered if they were all from the same womb. As if this was the family they craved.

They were one. With themselves and everyone in their...group. Expressing a newfound tenderness towards each other during their troubles. For some, memories were being stripped and forgotten after a few days. Others desperately clung on to what they could remember. The ability to live on after death was a true gift as much as it was a curse. A second chance, if you will. Was this a gift from man or Luna?

Truthfully, this new life was better to some degree. This wasn't a repeating lie they would say in an attempt to pacify their rapidly changing emotions. People don't suffer for nothing. There was meaning behind it. It was a beautiful weakness that easily bloomed like a sore. It was so human. A reminder of what they were no longer. They were now something much more than any person. Life was going to be different this time around. As a collective, they swore on it. For themselves and each other.

No one would have to endure the inescapable abuse that was inflicted upon them ever again. In this world, they were never hungry or cold; they had a place to sleep and clothes on their backs. Here, it was safe. No one could hurt them again, and they'd make sure of it.

The darkest parts of every soul, which were once hidden away, began to reveal themselves. Communal bitterness festered and spread like the plague. They were all told anything could happen in this world. They could be or do anything. In that case, they would do things they could only dream of. Everyone wished that they had lived life more selfishly, and now was their chance. If their souls were truly bound to this God-forsaken game, it would only make sense to treat life like one.

The network grew curious. For the first time, they had control over their lives. The roles have changed. It wanted to know what it was like to hurt someone. To feel how good it felt to break someone down to nothing. To have things go their way. They needed to hurt someone; it was instinctual. To prove to themselves that there was some bright side to this mess. That it has the ability to make people listen. Using the same methods that others have done to them.

Who they were as individuals mattered little. They'd make their presence known as one. It was only fair that after what they've been through, their amusement should be placed before all else. They deserved this; this was their reward! If only they had a fraction of this authority sooner.

#ben drowned #behavioral event network #creepypasta #jadusable arg #ben drowned headcanon #i LOVE BEN angst

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littlefireball · 2 months

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May I please request a Yeosang x reader x Seongwha smut. Where yeosang is a virgin and so is reader and seongwha set up so yeosang can lose his virginity unknowingly the reader was a virgin so they went at it and reader started to bleed and freak out and Yeosang helped her settle down and called Seongwha to come in and help etc?

hmm sorry im not sure i understand so i write this request based on my own understanding.

ʏꜱ|ᴍᴀʀᴋ ᴍᴇ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱ (ᴍ) ꜰᴛ. ꜱᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ

ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴ ʜʏʙʀɪᴅ ʏᴇᴏꜱᴀɴɢ x ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴ ʜʏʙʀɪᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴ ʜʏʙʀɪᴅ ꜱᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.2ᴋ

Masterlist

Dragon hybrids, like werewolves, usually find their soulmate after their first shift which is between the age 18 to 20. Yet, there is a difference. If that dragon hybrid doesn't mark their mate, they can be marked by others which means their soulmate can be 'stolen'.

"You still haven't marked Y/N yet?!"Seonghwa nearly exclaimed in disbelief upon learning that you and Yeosang had not yet mated. "We are not prepared," Yeosang mumbled, feeling embarrassed as he nervously scratched his neck.

"C'mon, Yeosang. You know it's risky if you don't mark her." "I know but…" To be honest, Seonghwa couldn't imagine Yeosang marking you as he was too innocent to do that. But, it was necessary. Seonghwa's mate had been 'stolen' because he believed they weren't ready for mating, just like what Yeosang thought, and tragedy ensued. The painful and sorrowful memories were still fresh, and he never wanted Yeosang to go through that.

"Sangie~" You rushed to Yeosang once you found Yeosang and Seonghwa were resting in the pavilion, back hugging yeosang and nuzzling his neck. You loved his oud wood scent. "Have you finished training?" He gently caressed your head, smiling lovingly. "Yah!I ranked first today. Did I do well?" You nodded as a fool, acting so cute. "My baby is always doing well." He pecked at your cheek, his gaze wall full of affection.

"Okay, you two. I'm still here." Seonghwa said helplessly, covering his face as if he was watching something embarrassing. "Oh sorry, Seonghwa." You trailed off, offering an embarrassing smile.

"Y/N you want a fly?" Yeosang asked. "Sure." "Okay, then you two go to fly and don't be hovey-dovey in front of me." You two nodded as you spread your wings and flew to the sky, disappearing from Seonghwa's gaze.

"Sigh Maybe I have to do something to help them." Seonghwa decided.

—----

You both embraced each other on the lush green grass, relishing in the serene moments. While some may find it mundane to simply recline on the earth and engage in idleness, you both found joy in it as well. After all, you were soulmates.

"Y/N?" "Hm?" You raised your head to meet his gentle gaze. "I have something to ask you…" "What? Honey." "You are my mate and I know it is risky not to mark you." Yeosang trailed off, feeling embarrassed as blush creeped up his face. You didn't say anything but just looked at him getting closer to your lips. "What do you think about this?" He brushed your lips with his thumb, whispering softly. "I…" A sudden ringing phone cut you off, Yeosang took out his phone and 'Seonghwa hyung' flashed on the screen.

"Hello?" Seonghwa's angry face displayed on the screen, you knew something bad happened. "Yeosang, you better come back now. LOOK AT THE MESS YOU'VE MADE!" The camera panned to reveal a charred section of the kitchen, evidence of a forgotten stove. "Oh my god! I'm back right now!" Both of you flew back to their shared house as fast as possible, without noticing that it was only a fake image.

"Seonghwa hyung?" The house stood empty, devoid of any signs of a burnt stove. All seemed in perfect order, as if untouched by any mishap. "Why did he call us then?" Yeosang inquired, to which you simply shrugged. "Yet, do you not detect a special fragrance?" Upon stepping inside, a delightful aroma embraced you like a warmth, causing both your body temperatures to soar.

"Is it from you?Y/N?" You could tell Yeosang's gaze was full of lust, his tone became even deeper. Actually, that special fragrance was yours, just enhanced. Yeosang's oud wood scent enveloped you like a hot wave; and your musk scent crushed his sanity.

Both of you got nuts.

"You smell so good, Y/N." Yeosang's longing surged like a wild creature unleashed from its confines, compelling him to assert his dominance over you. He found himself unable to resist drawing you close, burying his face in your neck, savoring your intoxicating aroma. "Yeo…yeosang." Instinctively, you tilted your head, granting him greater proximity, sensing his hold grow stronger.

"No, it's not enough." He whispered softly against your delicate skin before swiftly removing your top. Yeosang was overcome with desire, lavishing kisses on every inch of your body as he tore your garments apart. You were taken aback by his sudden intensity, yet you couldn't bring yourself to halt his actions. He lifted you onto the table, causing items to crash to the floor. The noise of shattered objects failed to rouse him from his trance; his mind was consumed by your intoxicating scent.

You grabbed the edge of the table tightly to support yourself, watching him bury his face in your lower core. Pulling the hem of your panties to the side, he sucked and kissed your clit without a second thought. "Fuck!" You screamed at the sudden touch of wet muscle, making him suck harder and lick quicker. "Baby, you taste so good." He whispered against your clit before standing up to undress himself. Due to his lack of patience, he found himself in a rush. Enraged, he swiftly tore off his garments, causing the fabric to drape on each side of his well-built physique and you swallowed hard at this sense.

"Mine." He pulled out his cock and eased into you in one go, making you throw your head. Yet, he didn't allow you a moment to adjust as he proceeded with such intensity and speed. You furrowed your brow and clenched your lip to bear the discomfort, assuming it was usual. Yet, the discomfort jolted you awake from the longing. With each collision, it seemed as though you were being struck by a boulder, prompting you to hiss.

"Yeosang, yeosang." You attempted to halt him, yet he remained oblivious to your murmur. Your warmth, your fragrance, every aspect of you sent him into a frenzy. He drew his hips and shoved into you with all his might. "Oh!Fuck!!It hurts!Please stop, yeosang!" The sharp pain became unbearable and you shouted out, making yeosang stop immediately as his sanity came back.

"Baby?Baby?Are you alright?I…I…I'm sorry." He was heartbroken when he saw you cry, and couldn't believe what he had done to you. "Oh my god, you're bleeding." "What?!"As he withdrew slowly, he found that the blood was staining on his member and even dripping onto your thighs. You freaked out, not sure when it would stop. "It must hurt, I'm sorry, honey." Yeosang comforted you as he swept your tears and caressed your cheek with all his gentleness.

"Don't be that rough…" "Yah, yah, I'm sorry." He murmured softly before placing a tender kiss on your cheek; you enveloped him in a warm embrace, yearning for comfort. But, both of you felt bad now, not only because of the pain he caused, but also from the fiery desire that still raged within your bodies. "Please fuck me one more time, I need you, sangie." You begged, feeling the emptiness was unbearable.

You needed him to fill you up, with his knot.

"But…what if I hurt you again? And you have to stop bleeding first." He asked with concern. "Please, please, please." You relinquished control as the tumultuous emotions unsettled you; yearning for his return, you extended your tail to ensnare his thigh and draw him near, yet the pain he caused just now gave you pause.

Feeling his tip rubbed against your entrance sent you a numbness through your body. Yes, that's what you wanted. Yeosang, however, stopped you before you could have a further process, causing you to whine in dissatisfaction.

"Baby, wait for a second. Hm?" You shook your head and pouted. "Be a good girl," He gently tucked your hair behind your ear, pecking at your cheek. "Let me help you stop bleeding first, okay? And I'll call Seonghwa hyung for help."

—---

"Need some help?" Seonghwa entered the room without a second thought once he received Yeosang's message for help, not realizing the fragrance was still lingering. Shit. Your musk scent was so freaking good to drive him crazy. "Oh gosh…" Seonghwa growled in a deep voice as he found you hugging Yeosang naked like a koala.

He wanted to fuck you, too.

"Seonghwa hyung, we need your help." Seonghwa clenched fists to keep calm, coming to both of you. "Wh─what you need…need me?" He stammered, unable to tear his gaze from your beautiful figure. "Please, teach me how to mark her." Yeosang's words made his eyes widened at surprise, he never expected this kind of request. "I hurt her but I can't just leave her…Did you get it…?" "Well, what you need to do is treat her gently." He swallowed hard as he got closer to you, feeling all the heat rush to his tip.

Seonghwa walked to you, his fingertip shaking at the moment he touched your back. His hands shifted to your thighs, lifting you up and whispering in your ears, "Sit on him, girl." Aiming at Yeosang's arched cock, you slowly sunk down and hissed at slight pain. "Take it slow and don't be too rough. That's it." Seonghwa's deep voice sent shiver down your spine, not to mention his breath landed against your skin, making your heartbeat raise up.

Your head rested on Yeosang's chest for a while, but still not moving. This position allowed Yeosang to nestle so deep inside you, each small movement could stimulate you. "I-I need help…" You asked for help as you were afraid of pain to move. "It's okay, honey." Yeosang brought you into a passionate kiss by cupping your face, sucking your lips slightly while starting to thrust upward. But again, you frowned because it was uncomfortable.

He was too big for you, maybe.

"Hey hey, slow it down, Yeosang." Seonghwa climbed onto the bed and sat behind you. "Try to relax, don't be so intense, Y/N." "Can you help her? Seonghwa hyung." "Wh…Are you sure?" "Yes, please help me, Seonghwa." "I won't mark her, I promise."

Seonghwa's hand trailed down to your clit, giving it a soft press before rubbing it at a quick pace. "Shit…" You whispered softly as you sensed his strong chest against your delicate back. Seonghwa skillfully moved his lower core closer to your ass, caressing it with his curved crotch; Yeosang, on the other hand, firmly held your chin to claim you into a hungry kiss.

You could feel how Seonghwa's cock nestled between your tight asses and Yeosang's member twitched each time you let out a moan. Seonghwa traced circles with his finger, occasionally tapping it, sending ripples of ecstasy through you. As the kiss broke, a newfound confidence surged within you, compelling you to bounce with desire. You mirrored Seonghwa's rhythm, bouncing up and down, maintaining a steady tempo.

"You're so good, babe." Yeosang rolled his eyes at the back as his tip reached the deepest part when you sunk down. The sensation of numbness just like an electricity ran through the whole body, making you both moan so loud. "Doing well, Y/N." Seonghwa encouraged you.

"Fuck!" You let out a soft whimper as their pace quickened. Yeosang surged upward, striking your most sensitive spot perfectly, causing your walls to clench around him. "I must claim you now," he declared, his size increasing as he prepared to knot you. With a firm grip on your waist, Yeosang leaned in closer. "Oh my!" Your head nestled against Seonghwa's chest, his crotch sunk deeper, eliciting a shared moan that lingered on both your lips.

Yeosang buried his face into the crook of your neck while thrusting as fast as possible. You wrapped your arms around his shoulder, nails digging into his skin, making blood flow out a little bit. Yeosang never felt this excitement before, causing him to almost cum. Seonghwa continued to tap and caressed your clit, moving faster to follow Yeosang's thrust.

"Fuck!!" Suddenly, a sharp pain spread throughout the body. Yeosang's cock entered your most intimate space and locked in. His thrusting was ruthless, trying to reach his peak. "Yeo…yeosang." You shutted your eyes and panted heavily, the pain was shifted to pleasure after a few powerful thrust. "Baby, cum with me and be mine." His words pushed you to the edge, coming hard on his cock. Yeosang bit your chest and released it all after a while, finishing the marking.

"Oh god…"Yeosang laid beside the bed and pulled you into his arms. "You alright?Honey." "Yah, I'm ok." Three of you wheezed and sweated profusely. "Thank you, hyung." "Nothing, just remember to clean up is ok." He rested his arm on his forehead, finding a wet spot on his crotch. Alas, it was hard to clean. Screw it!

"But wait a minute…" Yeosang gazed at Seonghwa with shock. "You call us back but there is no burnt stove!" Seonghwa stammered, not knowing how to respond. "You fool us!" "Wait─aww…" "What a horrible hyung!" "Wh─I just…sigh fine…" But, it may not be bad at all because you finally became his, forever his.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez smut #ateez x female reader #ateez imagines #ateez oneshot #ateez x reader #ateez x y/n #yeosang smut #ateez yeosang #yeosang #seonghwa ateez #ateez seonghwa

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