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jeneveuxrein · 4 months

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kiss and make up (BLACKPINK Rosé)

word count: 10.1K

(posted right when the clock hits midnight in seoul, i hope everyone enjoys)

tw: brief depiction of sexual assault and actual assault

-- -- --

You watch her slip her dress on, blonde hair swept to the side as she reaches for her zipper.

“Let me,” The blanket slides down your stomach, resting on your waist as you sit behind her. You slowly bring the zipper up, kissing her softly on her shoulder as she straightens the fabric. “Do you have to go?” You murmur, lips tasting her skin, the audible sigh coming from her body.

“I do,” Rosie nods, straightening her hair to fall freely along her back. Her head turns slightly, “You know I can’t stay. He’s expecting me.”

“Are you going to have sex with him?” The question comes out harsher than you intended.

“Stop,” Rosie scoffs, shaking her head as she stands. “We haven’t done that.”

Yet, you add quietly for her in your head.

Neither of you say anything else as Rosie reaches for the ring on the nightstand, slipping it on her finger.

You’d love nothing more than to toss that offending piece of jewelry into the Han River. Hell, you’d fly over the Pacific Ocean and drop it where no one could find it.

Because if Rosie was ever going to get a ring, it was supposed to be from you.

“Are you going this weekend?” Rosie asks, placing your clothes on the bed.

You nod reluctantly, as if you had a choice about the event taking place this weekend.

It’s the annual gala for the wealthy and affluent of Seoul. Your family along with Rosie’s are attending. Her father will be saying a few words, which you’re sure that his youngest daughter’s engagement will be announced as well.

“You’re not going to leave him, are you?” It’s a rhetorical question, one you wish had a different answer.

“It’s not that simple,” Rosie rolls her eyes. You’ve known her long enough to learn her tells, and this being one that she’s tired from having the same conversation.

“It’s been a year,” You point out, reaching for your shirt. “You’re engaged now, Chaeng. It seems pretty clear that this isn’t going to continue.”

The thing with you and Rosie is that neither of you wanted to be in this position. You were born into this, this being a stupid rivalry between your fathers. You were raised to hate each other, attending the same schools, competing for the top of the class while juggling the pressures from the public eye.

Being part of Seoul’s elite made you want nothing more than to leave as soon as you finished at one of the most prestigious universities in the country. You wanted to live abroad, working for someone without having your last name be the reason you were hired.

You couldn’t, as much as you tried. You were set to inherit the family business, even though your older sister, Jisoo, was much more capable and wanted to. The multiple arguments you’ve had with your father fell on deaf ears because you were the only son and naturally, you were next in line.

Rosie, on the other hand, wasn’t set to inherit anything except for a cushion that would support her for the rest of her life while her older sister, Alice, ran the company.

It wasn’t easy for her either since her father wanted Rosie to marry someone of equal status, ultimately expanding the Park name into other industries.

When Rosie was introduced to Wonwoo, you knew that was who her father had in mind.

God forbid it be you.

As much as you two acted like you hated each other growing up, one night after a charity event three years ago was where things unfolded.

Having drunk a little more than usual at these types of events, you confided over the shared misery of your families and why everyone just couldn’t get along. Besides that, you found out how much you had in common, sharing the same interests and similar values that sparked what led into something that neither of you were prepared for.

You don’t remember who kissed who first, but that didn’t matter since you both ended up in your bed, spending the night together and realizing that this was the person you wanted to spend all your nights and mornings with.

You’re in love with Rosie, and she’s in love with you.

It’s tragic, really, at the end of the day.

Neither of your families would approve. The media would have a field day if the secret, forbidden relationship got out. You’ve imagined the headlines countlessly throughout the course of the relationship of how the media would tear you apart about two major business conglomerates’ children dating.

If not them, then your parents.

The only people that know of your affair are your siblings, Jennie, and Lisa. Though, the relationship between the latter have their own complexities that you couldn’t fathom.

“What’re you saying?” Rosie asks, crossing her arms, even though she knows exactly what you’re implying.

“We can’t do this anymore,” You say softly, tears pricking your eyes. It kills you to say that out loud, but that’s your reality. You might be meant to be together, but there’s too many things weighing on you that you don’t think you could survive. Hearing Rosie publicly engaged to Jeon Wonwoo is at the top of the list.

“What?” You’re not surprised by her reaction. You’ve had a soft spot for her and she’s always gotten her way with you, but seeing that on her finger changes things. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am,” You frown, avoiding her gaze. Sure, it’s a bit messed up after what you just did together, but it’s even more messed up that Rosie showed up at your apartment right after Wonwoo proposed. He’s too smitten to believe that she was going to get drinks with Lisa, celebrating the engagement.

(You absolutely knew that if you just proposed to Rosie, you’d be balls deep in her as soon as you were inside the car.)

Wonwoo’s not a bad guy, just collateral in this fucked up situation that he has remained blissfully unaware of for the past year and a half. How oblivious could he be that you’re the one Rosie fucks on the regular, screaming your name as she tells you how much she loves you, is something you didn’t understand.

You’re selfish, wanting her all to yourself, reminding her night in and night out that she was yours as much as you were hers.

When you meet Rosie’s eyes, you almost fold. She looks like she’s about to tell you off, but you watch as she slips into the cool demeanor she carries whenever she’s in a board meeting. That very same demeanor that made her into one hell of a lawyer.

“You know we can’t keep doing this,” You say honestly, “Wonwoo’s respectful, but I’m sure at some point soon, he’s going to want to make the relationship official.” In a way that you and I do, You think bitterly, biting your tongue.

“Right,” Rosie nods, a tight smile forms on her face. “So this is it? I get engaged, fuck you right after, and you’re now ending things.”

You want to argue. You want to say something like how she agreed to date-date Wonwoo while actually being in a relationship with you. It might’ve been for appearances and to please her father, but you both know that what you were doing was wrong on so many levels.

“I guess. I love you, I want to be with you, but you’re engaged. It changes everything.” She knows things will change once this engagement goes public.

Rosie doesn’t say anything else, nodding before walking out of your room, out of your apartment.

Out of your life?

You hoped not, but you’ve never had any control of your life to begin with.

“Stop moping,” Jisoo hisses, forcing a smile when another executive walks by, briefly stopping to shake both of your hands.

“I don’t want to fucking be here,” You smile, nodding politely as you greet the wife of said executive.

You’ve been quietly arguing with Jisoo since you arrived. Thankfully you didn’t share a car together because that would’ve given you a headache.

Your sister knows what happened. She pounded on your door an hour after Rosie left because allegedly the woman you’re in love with called her, in tears and distraught, telling her how you ended things. There was one missing vital piece of information that wasn’t shared—something you had to tell your sister, softening as soon as the words fell out of your mouth.

“We have, like, ten more minutes of this before you can wallow away at the bar,” Jisoo nudges you with an elbow once your aunt and Jennie approach.

You give the two women a hug, commenting on their appearance because they are Kims after all. Everyone in your family looks good, and Jennie tells you so too.

“Wow, oppa,” Jennie gives you a gummy smile, straightening your bow tie after she hugs you. “You’re actually dressed up for once.”

“Not in the mood, Jen,” You say flatly. Jennie takes a second look, and her eyes narrow.

“What happened?”

“Not the time nor place,” You wave at a bunch of people you don’t recognize. All for show, their faces blurring together as they pass. “She didn’t tell you then.”

Jennie stares at you, waiting. When you remain stoic, she rolls her eyes, walking away to most likely find the woman in question.

“You really shouldn’t have said that,” Jisoo warns quietly, elbowing you in the side a little harder.

You don’t bother engaging with your sister anymore, just saying hello and answering any questions that people ask you as they walk by. It’s mechanical for you, something you’ve spent years perfecting on how to appear to people when you honestly couldn’t care about all this. You’d give it all up if that meant you could be with Rosie.

These past few days have been absolute hell for you. You’re pretty sure your body’s going through shock. You feel it in your chest anytime your mind so briefly thinks about her. You’ve dated before Rosie and heartbreak has never felt like this.

When you see the next family approaching, you automatically smile. Jisoo notices your face light up, which she scoffs because she isn’t exactly the biggest fan of who you’re smiling at.

“Hi Nayeon,” You ignore your sister, beaming as the eldest Im stands in front of you. She smiles, that same toothy one that you’ve teased her countlessly for over the years since it makes her look like a bunny.

“Hey,” Nayeon chuckles, shaking her head as she goes in for a hug. You do her one better and wrap your arms tightly around her waist, nearly lifting her feet off the ground. She lets out her boisterous laugh, hitting you on the shoulder. “Put me down!”

You’re laughing, actually giving a genuine smile, as you do what she says. You keep your arms loose around her. Anyone passing by would think you’re together, which you do hear them commenting on how close you are.

“If either of you want to make headlines this evening, please for the love of god, stop,” Jisoo mumbles, shaking her head as she greets Nayeon’s sister.

“We’re just having fun, Sooya,” Nayeon rolls her eyes, taking a step back before sending you a wink.

“Yeah well, the night’s going to get more interesting,” Jisoo tilts her head toward the entrance. “The Parks are here.”

You don’t want to look, but you can’t help yourself. Your gaze lands on Rosie. She looks absolutely stunning, wearing a strapless white gown that hugs her body perfectly, hourglass figure and all. It reminds you of a wedding dress, and something inside you breaks when you see Wonwoo right behind her.

“Wow, Chaeyoung looks gorgeous,” Nayeon comments. Her sister nods approvingly while you don’t miss the concerned look on your sister’s face.

You excuse yourself without waiting for any of the women around you. You beeline straight for the bar, needing something to ease the tightness in your chest. Hearing the crowd murmurs of Rosie and Wonwoo don’t help either. You even catch someone mentioning the ring, causing you to pick up the pace.

Lisa intercepts you when you’re a few feet away, “Hey,” Her hand wraps around your bicep, stopping your rendezvous with a bottle of scotch.

The brave face you put on at the beginning of the night cracks and she gives you a sympathetic smile. If there’s anyone Rosie would confide in, Lisa will be at the top of the list.

“Hi Lili.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Lisa asks politely, gently guiding you towards the bar, the grip on your arm strong enough to keep you from running in the opposite direction.

“Not entirely,” You shrug, but not enough to shake her arm off.

Lisa doesn’t push, which is one of the many reasons you consider her a close friend. Aside from the fact she’s secretly dating your cousin, she’s someone you trust. Even though Lisa’s a foreigner, she blends in well with this crowd, and that’s saying a lot. Everyone’s aware she’s not Korean by any means, but she’s networked enough that she has a seat at the table. The relationship she has with all of you have helped too, something she acknowledges, but it’s all her.

Once you reach the bar, you pull out the chair for Lisa. You get teased a little for acting so gentlemanly since your relationship with her has always been platonic—for obvious reasons.

“You haven’t spoken to her.”

“Of course I haven’t,” You nod when the bartender brings over your glass of whiskey. You take it one go. The usual burn doesn’t faze you as it travels through your body.

“She misses you,” Lisa says casually behind a wine glass.

You scoff. Your temper flares because while it could be true, there hasn’t been any moment since you last saw Rosie that she let you know how she felt. You’ve laid it out to her that you’d give up everything if it meant you could be together, but she was scared.

“She wants to be with you.”

“Sure she does,” You answer sarcastically. “If she did, we’d be engaged. Probably married by now.”

“Come on, don’t be like this,” Lisa shakes her head, placing her empty wine glass on the counter.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up before you could respond. You’re suddenly hyper aware of someone’s presence behind you, that you don’t need to turn around to see who it is.

“Hi,” You hear Rosie greet softly.

Lisa turns around first, standing to hug her best friend. You don’t make any moves to engage, at least not without signaling to the bartender for another drink. He’s in front of you, giving you a heavy pour before moving onto the next person. Without waiting, you take the drink in one go again, the liquid amber burning stronger than the first.

Slipping on the mask you had when you arrived, you turn to face the two women. “Chaeyoung,” You nod, acknowledging her for the first time this evening. It’s a low blow to call her by her Korean name because she’s reserved her English name just for you. “You look great,” You say with an easy smile.

There’s more you want to say, like how she’s beautiful and all that, but you don’t think that’d be appropriate given the time and place and circumstances.

“Thanks,” Rosie says quietly, the smile on her face hardly reaches her eyes. “Can we-”

“I’d love to stay and chat, but you know, duty calls,” You interrupt, scanning the room for anyone to pull you out of this conversation. Ironically, your gaze meets Nayeon across the crowd, waving you over. “My presence is needed,” You tilt your head in Nayeon’s direction. Rosie’s eyes narrow when she sees who’s exactly demanding your presence.

That’s a whole other story because you’re all aware of the crush Nayeon’s harbored for you over the years–something that peeved Rosie knowing that your mother’s approval of her if something were to happen.

But maybe it was time for you to move on.

“Have a great night, Chaeyoung,” You bow slightly before sidestepping around Lisa. “Congrats on the engagement, by the way. Wonwoo’s a lucky guy.”

You don’t bother waiting for her response, walking away before you could hear it.

Each step away feels heavier the farther you go. Every nerve in your body screams at you to turn back around.

You don’t.

You tend to sneak away in events like this. It’s a habit you developed as a teenager when high power executives and the like would talk to you about things you had no interest in.

That’s how you end up on the outdoor terrace. It’s empty aside from a couple members of the event staff taking a smoke break, but they don’t pay you any mind, too engrossed in their own conversations about the worst person they’ve interacted with so far. You know that they’ll be back to work in a few minutes.

You lean against the railing, letting the crisp cool air invade your lungs as you stare at the city skyline. It sobers you up just a bit, but you’ll admit you’re drunk—more than what your mother would deem appropriate at an event this big.

You have to thank Nayeon for your current state. She immediately knew something was off after you left Rosie and Lisa at the bar. She didn’t ask, but she offered to ditch once the speeches were over. You compromised, only wanting to stay for the foundation’s before Rosie’s father spoke. She understood without question. She didn’t prod as to why specifically before that speech.

The sound of heels coming to a halt behind you breaks you out of your thoughts. You sigh because there’s only one person that knows this habit of yours.

“What do you want?” You ask without turning around.

“Can we talk?” Rosie asks quietly that it forces you to turn around.

“Okay, go ahead,” You cross your arms, jaw clenching as you try to control the wave of emotions crashing through you as you stare at her.

“Let’s go somewhere more private, please,” She reaches for your arm, but her hand drops when she hears the quiet chatter from the staff a few feet away.

You relent, pushing yourself off the railing as she walks back inside. You have no choice but to follow her, and you’re on edge when she chooses to walk into a private bathroom.

Once the door shuts, you hold your breath, the tension between you much more obvious in an enclosed space. You feel suffocated by being this close to her when all you want to do is pull her against you.

“What do you want, Chaeng?” Your shoulders drop, the mental and emotional exhaustion catching up to you. You’re tired and just want to get as far away from this, from her, to think clearly.

“I…I don’t know,” Rosie looks away, leaning against the marbled counter as the door holds you up.

“We really shouldn’t be doing this,” You gesture to the space in between you. “If anyone sees us together, we’re both screwed.”

You watch her move, something brewing beneath as she keeps her eyes on you. She walks toward you, bringing her arm back. Your head tilts in question as her dress slowly slides down her body.

“Chaeng,” Your voice comes out low, hoarse as Rosie reveals what’s underneath–a white lace corset with the matching bottoms to go with. For how long you’ve been together, she knows your weaknesses, and if she had the garter belt, you would’ve taken her right there.

She planned this.

“What?” Rosie stands in front of you, keeping the smallest bit of space in between you that any movement, her body would be pressed against yours.

“You’re engaged,” A strong reminder more to you than her. Your hand twitches, but you keep it at your side, not wanting to give her the upper hand.

“I’ve told you time and time again, it’s not that simple,” Rosie leans forward, her breath ghosting over your lips. “What’re we supposed to do? Just leave everything behind?”

“Yes,” You shake your head, frustrated. It’s the same conversation you’ve been having with her since she started public dating Wonwoo and it’s still not sinking in that you’d make it work. “It’s not like we don’t have connections outside of our family to support ourselves.”

“You think too much,” Rosie rests her weight against you. Your cock stirs at the contact. “I love you, you know this. Is that not enough?”

“Chaeng,” You gulp when her hand slips in between your bodies, palming your cock over your slacks. You’re naturally conditioned to react to whatever Rosie does to you, big or small. She could tie her hair in a ponytail and you’d immediately get hard at the sight. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

“Then what?” Rosie drops to her knees, her eyes demanding your attention.

You grit your teeth as she undoes your belt. Her hands deftly work to unbutton your pants, tugging them down as she pulls your cock out. “What’re you doing?” You groan, head falling back against the door, the sensation of her soft hands wrapping around your girth.

“Are you complaining?” Her tongue sticks out, licking the tip before she kisses the same spot. Her hands were doing wonders on you as all the blood in your body rushed south.

“You know I’m not,” You moan as she takes you fully into her mouth, hollowing out her cheeks. You glance down, which is a mistake, to a filthy sight of your length halfway in her mouth.

“Then shut up,” Rosie takes a breath, pulling back slightly before repeating the motion. Her hands weren’t idle, stroking at a pace that spread her saliva along what wasn’t in her mouth.

You obediently listen, biting your lip to cover your moans as she goes lower with each movement.

You don’t know what came over her.

That’s a small lie. You could assume what spurred this. Besides your feeble attempt at ending things a few nights prior, Rosie seeing you interact–flirt–with Nayeon would be at the top of the list. It’s not like she would outright admit that she gets jealous because she’ll swear up and down she doesn’t, but you’ve been with her long enough to know how possessive she gets when it comes to you.

Your hand finds her hair, gently rubbing her scalp as she continues her ministrations. The moment you tighten your grip to increase her pace, she stops all movement. She lets off your cock with a resounding pop before standing up.

“We have to be quick,” Rosie mutters, standing to turn, and walks to the counter before stepping out of her thong. Your eyes never leave her form, watching her expression darken in the mirror. She bends slightly, shaking her ass in front of you.

You’re a simple guy. Naturally when a woman as gorgeous as Rosie offers herself up to you, you can’t exactly say no. You’ll deal with any ramifications later, but right now the only thought coursing through your body is to fuck her, and fuck her hard.

“We’re not supposed to be doing this,” You say, even though your hands grab her waist to steady you both. Her bare bottom presses against your very erect cock, the length in between her cheeks. You see how much precum leaks out of the tip as she tries to get you inside, missing completely.

“You’re clearly not stopping. We don’t have much time,” Rosie moans softly as your length rubs against her clit.

You shake your head, meeting her gaze in the mirror, a fiery look set in her eyes. You feel something weighing on your shoulders because you said you were done.

“Just fuck me,” Rosie demands and one of your hands drop, gripping your cock.

You tease a little, rubbing the head against her opening. She’s absolutely drenched that you slide right in.

Both of you moan, her eyes rolling back at being filled. You clench your jaw as she takes you in, the inner muscles tightening at the sudden intrusion. Once her bottom presses against your pelvis, you take a breath, needing it so you wouldn’t cum right away.

Based on how her pussy keeps contracting, it won’t take you very long.

“Hurry the fuck up,” Rosie hisses, and you pull your hips back before thrusting again. “I need your cock now.”

You set a quick pace, watching the sight of your cock disappearing in and out of Rosie’s body. You stifle your moans by resting your chin on her shoulder, biting down as she lets out a gasp with every movement. You realize she’s getting louder, the pitch getting higher. You did not need anyone walking in, especially since you didn’t lock the door.

Your free hand snakes around to cover her mouth, but Rosie surprises you when she pulls your hand to her throat, your fingers encircling her neck.

Rosie nods, giving you the green light, as your fingers gently squeeze. As soon as you do, her pussy tightens more and she pushes her hips into yours, meeting every thrust as the skin slaps. You knew her body well enough that she was close, especially the right angle to hit her sweet spot as she rolls down and along your length.

“I’m not going to last,” You whimper, panting against her ear.

“Inside,” Rosie gasps out, back arching as you lose your rhythm. Her orgasm triggers yours, causing you to thrust wildly, pounding, stretching, and the grip on her neck tightening. Her hand clamps on your forearm, loosening the hold as you paint her insides white.

You lose focus for a second, mind going blank as Rosie’s pussy rhythmically squeezes your cock, milking you for everything you have.

You didn’t know how long it had been. It could’ve been five minutes or five hours, but your cock softens as you slip out. You kiss the back of her head, as both of you catch your breath.

You don’t get the chance to see your cum flow out of her because her back straightens. Rosie turns, her chest against yours, arms resting loosely on your shoulder. Her fingers play with the hair on your neck while she stares up at you. She kisses you softly on the lips, smiling, before leaning against the counter. She keeps you close, spreading her legs that you slot perfectly in between as she gently pecks your cheeks and jaw.

It feels different to be with her like this.

You know what you’re doing is wrong on so many levels, but she’s your greatest weakness that you couldn’t resist her even if you tried.

“We should go back to the party,” Rosie mumbles, nipping at your bottom lip before letting out a sigh.

“Sure, whatever you want,” You honestly wanted to go back to your apartment and just cuddle, but you couldn’t exactly leave without drawing attention or questioning from your parents.

“Seriously, we should go,” Rosie makes no move to leave. Instead you feel her tongue in your mouth.

“Okay,” You nod against her mouth, which is also doing wonders, tempting you to go for another round.

Rosie pulls back, kissing you sweetly one last time. Her hand taps your shoulder, and you automatically step away, instantly missing her because you don’t know when, or if, this is going to happen again.

It’s a familiar sight as Rosie picks up her clothes from the floor. She fixes her hair, straightening the strands as best she could. You pulled your pants up, tucking your shirt in while she washed her hands.

“You should probably wait a few minutes after I leave,” Rosie says softly, wiping her hands before bringing her gaze to you in the reflection.

You agree, nodding, as the reality of what just happened sinks in.

No other words are said as you watch Rosie open the door, poking her head in the hallway as she checks if the coast is clear. Before walking out, she says, “I love you.”

One moment you’re chuckling at something Lisa says as she and Nayeon follow behind you. Nayeon invited Lisa on the way out as the speeches were commencing, which based on how it was looking with Jennie for the evening, Lisa made the decision to leave as well. She said she’d tell Jennie to meet after.

The next moment you hear someone in distress around the corner. Your pace slows when the women bump into you.

It takes you a split second before you realize that the person in distress is Rosie.

Wonwoo has Rosie pressed up against the wall, her leg straining against his as you notice his hand squirming to get in between her legs.

“Oh no, I’ll get security—Wait!” Nayeon gasps quietly behind you, but you hardly hear it because in the next moment, your feet move on their own accord and you swing your fist at Wonwoo, knuckles hitting square in the jaw and knocking his balance for him to get off of Rosie.

You think you hear Rosie scream, but you tune everything out because you’re pummeling him into the ground. You don’t care if you’re making a scene. There was absolutely no way in hell you’d ever let something like this slide with any woman, but the fact that it’s Rosie, the woman you’re in love with, all bets are off.

It isn’t until a few moments later, someone grabs you by your blazer, tearing you off Wonwoo, when everything equalizes. You hear Rosie crying behind you with Lisa trying her best to console her. Your hands ache as you open your fists, a searing pain along your knuckles. The grip on your blazer slackens before you realize it was Rosie’s father—Mr. Park himself—that pulled you off.

“What the fuck is happening here?” His voice comes out stern.

You notice the security guards tending to Wonwoo, whose face is covered by his hands, blood smeared all over his skin.

You’re going to be in deep shit from your parents, but you didn’t give a fuck. You would’ve killed him if no one stopped you.

“Mr. Park,” Nayeon interjects and you see a police officer next to her. Said police officer is her uncle—the police chief of Seoul. “We saw Wonwoo forcing himself on Chaeyoung. I went to grab security.”

A multitude of emotions cross Mr. Park’s face and you’ve never seen him angry before, but this would probably be the first time. It’s terrifying.

He doesn’t respond to what Nayeon says, walking over to where Wonwoo is. The Jeon heir looks up as Mr. Park says something to him none of you can hear when his eyes widen, desperately shaking his head, as he loudly apologizes.

“Oppa, let’s get you cleaned up,” Nayeon suggests, a loose hand wraps around your forearm.

You nod numbly, avoiding Rosie’s eyes as you walk by. Lisa’s still comforting her when Jennie and Jisoo rush over.

“Why are your hands covered in blood?!” Jennie freaks out, hand covering her mouth.

“Later, Jennie,” Nayeon pulls you away as a crowd starts to form, hiding you as best she could before anyone notices.

Nayeon leads you out of the building, forcing you to sit on a bench as she makes a phone call. She lets you know she’s calling her driver to take you home, but it doesn’t process as your blood’s still boiling over what you witnessed.

You have half the mind to go back inside and continue with your fists, but when you go to stand, Nayeon’s pushing you down. “No,” Nayeon says firmly, “Sit your ass down. You’re not going back in there.”

“But-” You try to speak for the first time since.

“Absolutely not.” Nayeon glares. “My uncle will take care of it. Leave the rest to them.”

“Fine,” You pout, rolling your eyes.

Nayeon keeps her gaze on you as she speaks with her driver. She ends the call, “Habin will be here in about ten minutes.” She sits next to you, crossing her legs as she stares at you curiously.

After a few seconds too long of feeling uncomfortable, you can’t take it anymore, grunting out, “Stop.”

“I’m not doing anything,” Nayeon says, shrugging, but you can sense the curiosity getting to her.

“You’re staring.”

“Would you believe me if I told you you're hot?” There’s a teasing tone in her voice that has you rolling your eyes.

“No.”

“Well you are,” Nayeon chuckles, “But that’s not why I’m staring.”

“Stop beating around the bush, ask what you want.”

“How long have you and Chaeyoung been seeing each other?”

The question catches you off guard. Of all people, Nayeon was the last one you expected to pick up on your relationship. Jennie told you that Nayeon was sharp, having a good intuition about things, and you should’ve believed her.

You go straight into denial, “What? Rosie and me? That’s absurd.”

Nayeon clicks her tongue, a satisfied humming sound leaves her throat, “Rosie?”

Shit.

None of Seoul’s elite refers to Rosie as ‘Rosie.’ In business meetings with foreign companies, yes, but in a casual conversation like this, no.

You sigh dejectedly. There’s no point in denying it. Nayeon wouldn’t believe you either way.

“A little over three years,” You confess, head dropping into your hands.

“Assuming her parents didn’t know their youngest was already in a relationship before Wonwoo?” Nayeon asks, hitting it right on the money.

“They did not,” You confirm, nodding in your palms.

“Wouldn’t approve, eh?” She’s right again as you grunt, taking that as an affirmative. “Well, I hope things work out in the end. If this doesn’t prove to Mr. Park you care about his daughter, nearly killing someone, then he’s an idiot.”

You actually smile.

-- --

It’s Monday and you’re not in your office.

Your assistant, Mina, texted you early this morning that you were to report to the Park’s building for a meeting with the CEO—Rosie’s father. You tried to get out of it, calling her as soon as you read it, but she couldn’t do anything. Your father specifically, borderline demanded, requested that your morning be cleared for this.

You hadn’t spoken to your parents since the gala. They blew up your phone as soon as they realized you left and after finding out what happened, thanks to Jisoo tipping you off about the flurry of messages and calls coming your way. You turned your phone off the following day, taking a much needed break from everyone. You didn’t hear from Rosie, which you were glad because you couldn’t face her. You were ashamed of getting violent in front of her. She didn’t need to see that side of you, but you couldn’t help it because it was her that was in danger.

You don’t regret it one bit though. You’d do it again without hesitation.

So here you are, waiting awkwardly in the seat as Mr. Park’s secretary types away at the screen.

When you arrived, she didn’t say anything to you except to have a seat and Mr. Park will be with you shortly.

You have no idea if you’re in trouble. The police didn’t show up at your place the day after, so you could safely assume no one was pressing charges. You do want to know what he said to Wonwoo that had him begging for forgiveness.

You haven’t seen your parents either. You’re under the assumption at least one of them would be here, but Mina herself didn’t know when you asked.

The office door opens and when you look who it is, it’s your father, motioning you to come in.

You bow when you stand, walking inside the office to Mr. Park leaning against his desk. He gives you a gentle smile when he sees you.

You automatically notice Rosie sitting off to the side on one of the couches near the window. She averts her gaze when she meets yours, something deflating inside of you.

“Please,” The Park patriarch gestures to the seat in front of him. “Sit.” It’s not a demand, but there’s no question you won’t do what he says.

Your father takes the seat next to yours, clearing his throat, “Chaeyoung told us some things this morning.”

You brace yourself, not sure which direction this conversation was going to go. You and Rosie never discussed what you would tell your parents, so she could have literally said anything.

When you don’t respond, your father continues, “It’s been brought to our attention that you’ve been actually dating for the past three years. Is that right?”

You nod, waiting for the pin to drop.

It never does because Mr. Park says, “Thank you for protecting my daughter.”

Uh?

You laugh awkwardly, hand reaching to scratch the back of your neck, “Yes, of course, sir.”

“No, you don’t understand. My daughter was engaged to him, and he’s disgusting,” You’ve never heard such contempt from someone. “If I actually announced their engagement while he tried something like that, it would look bad and my daughter would be stuck with a monster.”

“What he’s saying,” Your father can tell you’re confused, “Is that if you and Chaeyoung decide to be together, we approve. Your mother’s very proud of you for being quick to stop something bad from happening, though a little scared what would’ve happened if no one intervened, but regardless, it’s okay.”

Your shoulders feel so light after hearing those words come out of his mouth. You nod in understanding, doing your best to keep your composure.

“We’ll let you be. We have lunch to go over some things,” Your father says, a gentle hand squeezes your shoulder.

Mr. Park’s hand’s in your face, forcing you to shake it as you stand up, bowing graciously as they walk out of the room, leaving you alone with Rosie, who still hasn’t looked you in the eye since you walked in.

Once the door shuts, you let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Rosie,” You say softly, but she still doesn’t look up. She keeps her eyes focused on the floor. You roll your eyes, walking to stand in front of her, kneeling to be in her line of sight. “Chaeng.”

“I’m sorry,” Rosie’s lips quiver, tears visibly forming in her eyes. “I should’ve called you yesterday, but my mother and Alice took me out of the city. I was so shaken up.”

“Hey, hey,” You reach for her hands, kissing them softly to soothe her worries. “Don’t apologize. It’s okay. We’re okay. You’re okay right?” She nods solemnly. “Then don’t worry.”

“I should explain-” Your index finger presses against her lips.

“No need,” You brush off casually. You didn’t need to hear it. There’s a high chance you’d just get riled up having to hear about it.

“I was breaking up with him,” Rosie mumbles against your finger. “I started to walk away so I could tell my father when he, he-” Her voice cracks.

You move swiftly, wrapping your arms around her as you pull her into an embrace, gently soothing her arm as you kiss the top of her head, “Baby it’s okay. You’re safe. I’m here.”

“I love you,” Rosie cries into your chest, burying her face into you as her body shakes against yours. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

Words aren’t needed. You hug Rosie tighter, silently promising to never let her go. You can’t change what happened, but you can control what happens next.

“I love you,” You whisper against her temple, kissing softly as she breaks down in your arms even more. “Is it a bad time to ask you out?”

Rosie shakes her head, giggling through the tears, “Like on an actual date?” She lifts her head, a watery smile painted on her face.

You nod, lips curling up as you wipe the tears away.

“Yes.”

-- --

You hang your arm loosely around Rosie’s shoulder, waiting for your driver to pick you up to take you home. She laughs at something Jennie says, but you’re hardly paying attention to their conversation.

Your mind is preoccupied on other things.

It’s Rosie’s birthday and Lisa rented out a club in Hongdae to celebrate.

It’s been a few months since that night. Rosie and you have had to learn how to navigate your relationship in the public eye. Aside from many gossip columns speculating about the sudden romance, there have been numerous business analysts forecasting a merger between the families.

Which your father has told you would happen if you were to propose to Rosie in the future.

Something that you want to do now, even though Rosie thinks it’s best to wait a year for the sake of appearances.

“Oppa,” Jennie whines as Lisa holds her up, the effects of alcohol hitting her and the woman next to you. “Let’s go to one more place! I’m hungry.”

“Go to McDonald’s,” You roll your eyes, irritated with your cousin.

You want to spend some time with Rosie, alone, because of the little stunts she’s been pulling throughout the night.

She’s been relentlessly teasing you, drifting her hand on your thigh, even brazenly palming you over your jeans underneath the table while the cake was brought out.

You did your best to keep a straight face through it all, but it was hard when she asked you to dance with her friends. You usually shied away from any public displays of affection besides holding hands, but you couldn’t resist her.

Especially with the way she was dancing on you.

“Baby,” Rosie pouts, looking up at you. “Can we go with them?”

“Chaeng,” Your jaw clenches, sending her a pointed look.

“Oi,” Lisa laughs. You see her shaking her head in your periphery.

“Please,” Rosie ignores her friend. She even makes her lip quiver, that you have no choice but to say fine. She claps her hands excitedly before giving you a sweet kiss on the cheek. “I’ll make it up to you,” She murmurs against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

“It’s your birthday,” You clear your throat. “Whatever you want.”

“Whatever?” Rosie leans back, raising an eyebrow.

You nod hesitantly. There’s a mirthful gleam in her eyes that whatever you had in mind, she has something else.

Rosie’s lips move slowly against yours, tongue dipping in and around your mouth that has every nerve firing. Your hands tighten on her hips, guiding her movements, even though you’ve been powerless since you arrived back at your place.

There’s too many things going on at once that have you blanking out. The only thing you can remotely focus on is the sensation of her slick over your cock.

It’s been torture watching, feeling, Rosie grind herself on you without letting you inside. You’re not sure what her end game is, but you’re dying for something other than this. It’s hot, no shit, but you’ve been on edge the whole night that you’re almost ninety-nine percent sure the moment her walls touch your length, you’ll bust.

“God,” Rosie moans against you, body shaking, and it’s orgasm number two for her without any relief for you.

“Baby, please,” You whine, hands gripping her waist as she starts moving again. You’re at the point of begging.

Rosie’s hands are on your chest, pushing herself up. You make the mistake of glancing down and your cock’s nestled in between her lips, covered in a light sheen from her orgasms, and there’s precum leaking from your tip.

“What’s wrong?” The teasing tone in her voice as you watch her swirl her hips in a circle has you hypnotized. Your cock brushes against her clit and you swear you feel her pulse.

“Why are you being a fucking tease?” You groan, head thrown back as she continues to rub herself along your length.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rosie murmurs, placing her hands on your abdomen.

After a few more minutes, your tip brushes against her opening. She lets out a surprised moan at the unexpected intrusion. Much to your dismay, she doesn’t take you in.

“Chaeng,” You inhale sharply. “Seriously, come on.”

Rosie hums, clicking her tongue as if an idea just came to her.

“What if I got pregnant?”

What?

“Like, can you imagine? My father would probably kill you,” Rosie says casually when you don’t respond, too stunned by her question. “You’re practically throbbing down there.”

It’s not like it hasn’t crossed your mind. You’re definitely going to propose to Rosie when she thinks it’s the right time. You’ve talked about having kids, something you couldn’t care much for, but she’s thrown around the idea of it. If you wanted kids, you’d want her to be the mother.

Though, the process of having kids is what gets you the most.

Something Rosie knows absolutely gets you wild, nearly feral at the thought of filling her m as much as possible.

“Chaeng,” Your voice is low, hands stopping her movements. “Is that what you want? You want me to fuck a baby in you?”

“I mean,” Rosie shrugs, casting her hair behind her back, “Wouldn’t that solve the problem?”

“What fucking problem?” Your patience’s running thin as your hips involuntarily roll up.

“You know, the one where girls think you’re still single, even though all of Seoul should know you’re taken,” Rosie rolls her eyes, and her attitude is pissing you off.

Your mind replays every situation, every interaction you had tonight. Mostly everyone that was there was your friend. There were a few people you knew of, but didn’t engage with them as much since they were more Rosie’s friends than yours.

Nothing stands out, except for one.

A light bulb goes off in your head because Rosie doesn’t get jealous, per say.

Possessive is a better word to describe it.

While Rosie was off taking shots with her friends, you were idly sitting at the table, waiting for Jungkook and Minwoo when a girl you didn’t know walked up to you. You weren’t sure if she was Rosie’s friend, but when she introduced herself as Chaewon, you knew what she wanted and you were her target for the night.

You generally don’t entertain women when they come up to you, but Chaewon had disarmed you easily, charming you with a coy smile and flirty glances that you completely missed the daggers Rosie was sending her and you across the room.

The moment immediately passed as soon as Rosie plopped herself on your lap, crossing her legs in between yours, before kissing you heatedly that by the time she took her lips off you, Chaewon disappeared.

It paints a clearer picture why Rosie’s suddenly dangling pregnancy in your face. It’s more for her to claim you than anything.

“Is that what you want?” You sit up, wrapping your arms around her body. Kissing her softly before murmuring, “You want people to know who I belong to?”

“I’m sure people know,” Rosie whispers seductively, “But it wouldn’t hurt for them to know that I’m the one that you can’t keep your hands off.”

“Baby, I’m sure they know,” You smile against her lips.

“Well,” Rosie huffs, too distracted by the way you move your mouth over hers, tongue finding its way in between her lips. “I want them to know for sure.”

“Then let me fuck you baby,” Your hips roll up, brushing against her clit as she moans. She shakes her head, gently pushing you to lay back.

Rosie’s hand slips between your bodies, a light grip encircling your cock as she aims the tip to her opening. She gently slaps the head, catching her clit in the process, before settling at her entrance.

“Rosie,” You grit out, eyes locked on your cock in between her folds.

“Watch me,” Rosie positions herself, careful not to slide you in just yet, placing her hands to balance on your cock.

It’s something you’ll never tire of, no matter how many times you and Rosie have sex—and it’s a lot.

Her hips swivel, adjusting, as she slowly drops down, your cock disappearing in her body. You’re engulfed by her heat, her walls stretch to accommodate your size, and you see stars as your eyes roll back.

“Baby,” Rosie’s voice cracks, “Eyes on me.”

Your gaze falls back to your cock gone, completely sheathed by her that she uses her inner muscles to squeeze. You can’t help but thrust into her, jolting her body as her breasts bounce.

“Nope,” Rosie clicks her tongue, shaking her head in disappointment. “Hands here,” She places them in the divot where her legs meet her hips, hands over yours as she slowly rocks her hips.

“God,” She chokes out, “We fuck a lot, yet it’s always so much.”

You don’t have any words because you’re too blissed out by her movements. Any coherent thoughts are out the window because she’s right.

It is so much.

You’re lost in her that your eyes roll back once she moves up carefully, methodically, before dropping her hips over you, repeating the motion that has you gripping her thighs roughly.

“Imagine,” Rosie says lowly, looking at you through hooded eyes, “If you did get me pregnant. Just me carrying your child because you couldn’t help yourself. The media would be all over us.”

Her words trigger a memory of the first time you and Rosie had sex, deciding together to go without a condom because she was safe and she trusted you enough. You don’t think you’ve ever fucked anyone like you fucked her.

“Baby,” You can’t control the moan that falls from your lip after a hard drop. “Don’t.”

“What?” She stops her movement, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t want to? You’re the only guy I’ve ever let cum inside me.”

“Jesus fuck, Chaeng,” Your hands drop from her hips. “You’re a fucking—”

“Tease? Slut? Whore?” Rosie swivels her hips in a figure eight, cutting you off. “It doesn’t matter what anyone calls me. I’m yours.”

You have no control over your body as your hips move on its own accord, meeting every one of her gyrations with precision.

“Come on,” Rosie goads, bending forward to kiss you briefly on the lips, “You don’t want everyone to know that?”

Of course you do. People do know that Rosie’s yours, but the love bites and the like don’t compare to her being pregnant—the ultimate claim.

In a quick move, keeping your cock in between her legs, you reverse positions, and Rosie’s on her back.

“God yes,” Nails digging into your shoulders as you slide your length from her warmth before snapping forward.

You buck into Rosie, thrusting wildly as the need to breed her takes the forefront of your mind. The thought of her belly swollen has you nearly going feral.

You try to lean back, wanting to see your cock spearing through her walls, but her grip takes her with you. You watch as she rolls her body in waves, mesmerizing you as your cock moves in and out. Your hand splays over her stomach, and you could be imagining it, but you swear you feel your cock hitting her front walls.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” Rosie taunts, eyes barely open with a dopey smile on her face.

You grunt, too engrossed as she leans back, one hand on your shoulder as the other rests over your hand. Her breasts bounce with every thrust, bouncing rapidly on your cock like she’s in heat. Your thumb sneaks down, slipping underneath her hood to rub her clit. Her eyes widen before a sudden pressure grips your length.

Rosie screams as her orgasm rips through her body, back arching as she pushes her chest forward, before convulsing, spasming all over you before you feel your cock getting forced out. A stream of clear liquid expels from her, drenching your crotch and thighs. You groan at her squirting because it’s happened before, but holy shit this feels more intense, more primal as you watch her eyes roll back at the pleasure consuming her body.

She lets go, body falling limp on the bed as you stare at the woman you love in complete awe. Her pussy’s soaked, hole pulsing as she swings her leg over you, rolling onto her stomach.

Her chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath, but you’re surprisingly still hard, that you can’t wait. You move her legs with ease, straightening one and slightly bending the other before settling between her legs.

“You didn’t cum?” Rosie asks, surprised, voice shaking as you aim your cock at her opening again.

“No,” You’re able to answer before sinking in, engulfed by her heat once more.

It won’t take you very long because you’re rutting into her like your life depending on it. Hips rolling after every thrust has your stomach tightening from your impending orgasm.

“You fuck me so well,” She moans uncontrollably, sobbing into the pillow as she continues to babble nonsense, hands balling into the bedsheets.

You’re hardly paying attention to what she’s saying as you watch her ass ripple with every thrust. Your hands grip her cheeks, spreading them wide to her puckered hole.

“Would you let me fuck your ass?” You ask, absentmindedly massaging the muscles. She doesn’t need to answer because her body does for her, her walls tightening at the question. “That’s a yes,” Chuckling as you save that for a later time.

Rosie mumbles something into the pillow that has you leaning forward, pressing your cheek against hers.

“What was that?” Hips never ceasing as they continue their onslaught, slamming in and out.

“Daddy please. Cum inside me.”

You couldn’t stop yourself if you tried.

The word had never been used before, but it sparked something dark in you. Your hips stutter, breaking your rhythm, after one, two, three thrusts you explode inside of her, painting her inner walls that trigger another orgasm from the woman wrapped around your cock.

“God—shit, fuck,” You lazily thrust inside her one more time before groaning against her hair.

Your cock twitches as her velvet walls keep contracting, draining you for all that you have, making sure you don’t leave her empty.

You move her hair to the side, exposing her neck and back, placing soft, tender kisses—a stark contrast to what you were just doing to her—all over her skin. You don’t want to pull out, too comfortable with her snug warm walls, and you’re almost certain she wouldn’t care if you stayed inside her, too cock drunk to even notice.

Rosie lets out a pathetic whine as you regretfully pull out. Your cock’s covered in your shared fluids as her you take a good look at the mess you made. You notice a dribble of cum ooze out of her lower lips, and just to fuck with her more since you’re a little shit, you use your finger to push it back in.

“Hey,” Rosie moans softly as you deftly massage her walls, spreading the load. “Too much.”

You nod, removing your finger, but not without brushing over her clit. She weakly slaps you away as you chuckle, dropping your weight next to her. She immediately turns to face you, pulling you into her and throwing a leg lazily over yours.

You bask in the moment, letting the endorphins release as you listen to Rosie sigh contentedly.

“You’re not serious about getting pregnant, right?” You ask, slightly nervous as the post-orgasm clarity hits.

Rosie giggles, shaking her head as she looks at you, “You really think I’d go off birth control without talking to you?”

Smiling sheepishly, “I don’t know. It just caught me off guard.”

“Sorry, just felt extra attentive for you tonight since it was my birthday,” Rosie kisses your jaw.

“Do you mean jealous?” You quip, which earns you a light slap on the chest.

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, I don’t get jealous,” Rosie pouts all cutely that you chuckle.

“I can’t help that I’m such a hot commodity,” Another slap.

“Yeah well you’ve been off the market for almost four years, you think I’m going to really let some girl get to me?”

“I’ve had to go on dates with people my parents set me up with. How do you know I didn’t sleep with them?” You tease, earning a pinch this time.

“Because you literally came over after every single one,” Rosie rolls her eyes. “I’d remind you that there wouldn’t be anyone else, don’t you remember?”

The few dates your parents forced you to go on resulted in some of the hottest sex you’ve had with Rosie. You remember vividly the things she did so you never had to think twice about being with another woman.

It’s making you hard again at the memory.

“I feel you twitching,” Rosie smirks, shaking her head. “Let’s sleep first, okay?”

“Fine,” You pout. Though, you have one more question. “One last thing?”

Rosie hums, snuggling into the crook of your neck.

“Marry me?”

Rosie pulls back, gaze meeting yours, searching your face for an answer she only knows. “You’re serious this time.”

“I’m serious every time I ask,” You scoff.

“No, but this is different,” Rosie sits up. “Do you have a ring?”

“In my sock drawer, all the way in the back,” You answer simply.

You watch her slide out of bed, walking to the dresser. She slips on one of your old university shirts from when you studied abroad before digging through the mentioned drawer. She pulls the small velvet box out before joining you on the bed.

“How long have you had this?” She asks softly, staring at the box.

“Honestly?” Rosie nods. “Two years. Lisa’s the only one that knows. Jennie might, but if she does, she’s never said anything.”

“You were that sure about us?” Her voice trembles as she looks at you.

“Yeah.” You didn’t know what was going to happen back then, but all you did know was that you wanted to be with Rosie. You would’ve given everything up right then and there if your parents didn’t approve.

You still would.

“You’re a big softie, you know that?” Rosie smiles.

“Yeah, well, don’t tell anyone. I have an image to uphold.”

The small box is placed in your hands, and Rosie gives you an encouraging smile.

“You sure? Didn’t you want to wait a year?”

Rosie shrugs, “It was advised by Alice, mainly because it was already a big deal that two rivaling companies’ kids were dating that she suggested waiting was the best for the news outlets to cool down. But at this rate, I don’t think I could wait.”

You open the box, the diamond shining brightly in the low lit room.

It’s a fond memory of how you picked this ring, mainly because of the woman you took with you. She dragged you to five different places, even suggesting flying to Paris since she had connections there. You argued that leaving to Europe would raise suspicion to Rosie. Lisa pointed out some ostentatious design with diamonds around the band would be the best, which the jeweler agreed—most likely wanting to get a bigger commission. You shook your head, opting for a simple solitaire, a three-carat diamond that still had a hefty price tag.

You take a deep breath, smiling at the woman in your bed, unshed tears in her eyes.

“Will you marry me?”

“Yes. A thousand times yes,” Rosie cries, throwing her arms around you as she pulls you into a heated kiss.

You drop the box, uncaring about where it goes. Your hands find themselves on her hips, lifting your fiancée onto your lap. Neither of you are clothed from the waist down, and you’re surprised with how wet she is.

“Already?” You murmur against her lips.

“Shut up,” Rosie breaks the kiss, embarrassed as she buries her face into your neck. “Can’t help it,” She sucks lightly, marking your skin.

“What about sleep?” You moan, rocking her body along your hardening cock.

“Later,” Rosie mumbles, “I’m engaged. Let me celebrate, daddy.”

You groan at the new nickname, earning a giggle.

“Who knew you had a daddy kink,” Rosie teases, kissing you on the lips again. “I probably have a praise kink.”

“Be a good girl for me then,” You say, easily slipping into character.

“It’s not hard to be,” Rosie trails her lips along your jaw, peppering kisses as she slyly slides her hand in between your bodies. “Especially with a cock like this,” She sighs as she slowly strokes your stiffness.

“I love you,” You tilt your head back as she moves herself lower, eager for whatever she has in store.

“I know, I love you too, my fiancé.”

-- -- --

#blackpink smut #blackpink rose #blackpink park chaeyoung #rosie smut #park chaeyoung smut #park chaeyoung

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porcelainseashore · 3 months

Text

To Neighbors and New Beginnings

Pairing: Retired! Older! Leon Kennedy x Neighbor! Fem! Reader

Summary: Leon’s getting on in years and finally retired. But that doesn’t mean he’s slowing down in terms of enjoying life. When you moved in next door, little did you realize what you had bargained for.

Content & Warnings: 18+ Post-Resident Evil: Death Island, age gap (Leon in his 60s, Reader in her 30s), strangers to lovers, swearing, bad humor, teasing, flirting, awkward tension, slow burn, romance, fluff, suggestive themes, mild smut.

Authors' Note: Inspired by this older Leon Kennedy pic, we started with a drabble that of course turned into a full length one-shot about our favorite agent, who’s aged like fine wine. This is a writing collab between AliBelleRosetta / @alibellerosetta and me, which we did for fun!

AO3 Link

There comes a time when an agent needs to retire, and Leon was no exception. When he started pushing mid-60s, there wasn’t much else he could do, save for having his brains picked for knowledge on B.O.W. behavior and countertactics. Even that was slowly dwindling as new virus strains and procedures developed. It reached a point where an agreement was made for him to be called in on a consulting basis, but for the most part of his retirement life, he was free to do as he pleased, within limits.

After all the horrors he had witnessed, he was more than happy to opt for the simple life. He finally had enough time on his hands to care for a pet. So, he pounced at the opportunity and got himself a retired police dog, settling down together with him in a quiet, suburban neighborhood, in the middle of nowhere, doing fuck all. At least for the moment. Until you came along. You sweet, young thing, you.

You were half his age, but all is fair in love and war when both of you were consenting adults. You’d recently moved in next door to him, after the previous owners had decided to sell off their house in favor of acquiring a smaller, more manageable place. What was a young lady like yourself doing here? he often wondered. You were an enigma, just like he was to you.

It began with him going about his daily routine of yawning and stretching his weary limbs, as he trudged out sluggishly, in nothing more than a pair of shorts and flip-flops, to get the morning paper from his mailbox, dog trailing behind. Slamming the lid shut after he had fished the paper out of the box and flicked it open, he spotted you from the corner of his eye, just as his dog lifted his leg to mark his territory on the stand.

You were standing by your kitchen window, biting the bottom of your lip, oblivious to the tap left running, as you peered at him intently. It seemed as if you were even unaware that he had caught you staring, since you made no attempt to cover it up. He smirked to himself before nonchalantly heading back to his house. It gave him a boost of confidence knowing that he still remained spry as ever. So what if his hair, once golden blonde and a source of pride, was now a sea of white? So what if he sported a couple of wrinkles and liver spots? He sure as hell hadn’t lost his touch yet.

A couple of days later, when the weather was good, he pulled up a deckchair on the front lawn, in direct line of sight of your bedroom window. The sound of your hair dryer turning on tipped him off that you were in. He proceeded to sunbathe on the chair topless, his newspaper in hand, without a care in the world. His dog made his rounds along the lawn, frolicking in the grass, as various passers-by greeted Leon cordially.

“Mr. Kennedy.”

He nodded at them politely.

A moment later, he heard the shutters of a window opening. He didn’t even have to turn in your direction to know that you were leaning out, pretending to take in the glow of the noon sun as you traced the outline of his muscles with your eyes. He flipped a page and chuckled. Oh, what was he going to do with you?

Well, the grass was getting taller and more unruly. That wouldn’t do. It was time for him to whip out the big guns. He picked a Sunday afternoon, when people were usually lazy and lounged around at home. Gripping the mower’s handle with one hand, he pulled the starter cord a couple of times, until the engine revved to life.

Its loud, whirring sound caused you to poke your head out of your window. He caught your gaze then, giving you a cocky wink. A scarlet blush spread across your cheeks as you waved back at him, trying to appear friendly. Shaking his head with a grin, he got to work, methodically pushing the mower across the lush, green expanse of his front lawn. The crisp scent of freshly cut grass filled the air, as the sun’s rays beat down mercilessly. Beads of perspiration glistened on his forehead and pooled at his neck. It was time for a short break.

Peeling his drenched, white t-shirt over his head, he used it to wipe the sweat away, dabbing at his chest and underarms, before slinging it over his shoulder. Your eyes were fixed on the scene before you, as you rested your chin in the cradle of your hands, staring dreamily at him again from the window. He flexed his upper body slightly, just enough to give you a teaser of what was to come. That snapped you out of your reverie, as you cleared your throat and busied yourself with something in the kitchen. He couldn’t see what it was from where he was standing.

Soon, he saw you walking over with an icy cold drink in your hand. You stuck it out in front of him like a peace offering.

“Lemonade?” You seemed uncertain and shy.

“Sure.” He nodded and smiled, accepting it graciously.

A tingle ran through your veins where his fingers brushed against yours when he took the glass from you. His piercing blue eyes held your gaze as he gulped down the refreshment, though the last bits of it spilled from his mouth down to his chest.

“Oops.” He shrugged unapologetically. “Can’t let it go to waste, can I?”

Dragging his finger along the wet parts of his chest, he gathered what remained of the liquid and placed it into his mouth, licking and sucking on it like it was the most delicious thing in the world.

“Mmm,” he murmured softly. “Tastes good.”

The crow’s feet etching the corners of his eyes crinkled warmly, as he watched you sputter and cough in response.

“Excuse me.” A crimson wave had washed over your face, as you pat your chest furiously. “Choked on my saliva.”

“Happens to the best of us.”

He eyed you again intensely, motioning to your other hand. “What’ve you got there?”

“Oh, uh, sunblock?” You pointed at the reddened skin on his back. “I thought you might-”

“Go ahead, sweetheart,” he interrupted, presenting his back towards you, as he waited patiently for you to make a move.

Sweetheart? You swallowed thickly, trying to figure out if you had misheard what he said. Shakily, you squeezed out a creamy, white blob of sunscreen into your palms, rubbing them together before slathering it over his back gingerly.

You gasped in surprise, as you felt the toned muscles of his back beneath your hands. This was way better in-person. He must work out a lot, you thought. A lot more than someone of his age.

However, it didn’t take long for you to notice the multitude of scars scattered across his back. As you caressed the raised bumps and faded indents, you wondered what kind of life he had led back in the day. Was he a military man? A war veteran? Or maybe he just got into a lot of fights?

Apparently, you must have a magic touch, because Leon started to treat it as if you were giving him a full-body massage.

“Yeah,” he grunted, as you ran your hands over his taut shoulders. “Right there…”

Your task was to simply ensure he didn't get any more sunburned than he already was, but the poor man was so tight all over, you felt sorry for him. So, you got a little carried away and pressed hard against a particularly stubborn knot in his lower back.

He tilted his head back involuntarily and let out a loud, pornographic moan.

“Mr. Kennedy?” you squeaked, concerned if you went too far.

“Please, just call me Leon.” He flashed a boyish smile that revealed a glimpse into how he might have appeared in his younger days. “Don’t worry, you’re doing great, sweetheart.”

You hummed in response, his praise getting the better of you and causing a pool of arousal to form between your legs. All at once, you’d forgotten where to place your hands, what to say, and what exactly were you doing, flirting with your older neighbor so shamelessly out in the open?

A cold shower was definitely on the agenda after this. If DILFs existed, what would you call even older men who were this fuckable again? GILFs? You shuddered, feeling dirty for all the obscene thoughts swimming through your mind.

“Um, well, I guess that’s done!” you chirped out rather overenthusiastically, as you pulled away from him.

There was a slight pout on his face, though he was quick to mask it with a courteous smile. “Shame,” he commented lightheartedly. “Was enjoying it.”

A little too much, you snickered internally, as you made your way back to your house

━━━━━━━━━━━

As he stood staring out of his living room window, he pondered his next move. Despite your previous hasty retreat, you had taken to discreetly watching him work with not just a small amount of eagerness, and he was more than happy to oblige your ogling. After all, who wouldn't want a beautiful woman staring after them?

You were a curious one in his eyes, a blend of boldness as you approached him and shyness the moment you got your anticipated reward. It was a fun game he was more than happy to play with you.

Today wasn't going to be any different.

Once again, the sun hung high with not a cloud in sight, perfect to work outside on some much needed errands, but with your notable attention on him lately, the to-do list had taken quite a hit. His ideas were wearing thin, but one thought stuck out, especially with how keen you seemed to be watching him work the lawnmower. Maybe something on a larger scale would be within your interests.

With a smirk and a listen out for the quiet clangs coming from your kitchen to let him know you were home, he dropped the empty coffee cup down in his sink and headed over to snatch up his long neglected key to get on with the job at hand. The sturdy garage door opened with a series of loud clanks, the inside admittedly dusty with neglect. There in the middle stood his pride and joy. The motorcycle was an older model, but also the only one to withstand his youthful recklessness.

It’s long overdue for a tune up, he thought, grasping the handlebars as he pushed the bike out of the garage. He let it come to a rest slightly out on the driveway as he decided to give it a check over and wash it down, sneakily just in the eyeline of your window but not enough for you to see much. The bike itself admittedly didn’t get ridden as much as it should, but if he guessed right, maybe it would someday soon.

You had heard the noise of his garage door open only for curiosity to get the better of you, cracking open the window to try to get a peek of what your neighbor was up to now. It was like something had come over you, and every time he made an appearance, you couldn’t help but watch after him. You saw he was there outside briefly before heading back into his house and returning moments later with a bucket full of soapy water.

When he glanced at your kitchen upon his return, he chuckled to himself as he dropped the bucket down, sloshing some of the water across his drive. Apparently his idea had already started to work a treat, having grabbed your attention. He inserted the key into the ignition and turned it, as the motorcycle roared to life, the battery still able to kick in despite its disuse. The sound of the engine was distinct, much different from the mower previously, and he knew it was sure to pique your interest even further with what a curious thing you were. The shuffling from your kitchen as the window cracked open a little more was enough to tell him that he once again had your attention. Without a care in the world other than checking his bike and giving you a show, he dropped down on one knee, ignoring the tightening feeling in his joints. His knees weren't what they used to be after too many B.O.W. fights.

From your hung back viewpoint, you couldn’t see much, but the noise from outside drew your focus fiercely and you couldn't help but try to get a better look. No matter how much you stood on your tiptoes and reached close to the window, he was just about covered from your spot where you could only make out his unfortunately clothed back, hiding his mysterious antics for once. The way he was acting was odd, as usually he was more open with his activities. You tried to tell yourself that you should walk away and leave him to it, but it was like a desperate urge that needed to be quenched.

While his dog ran off into the yard to chase a wandering squirrel, he moved on to checking the bike over, not one to half-ass his task even if there were other motives. A quick examination of the moving parts and pivot points for signs of wear and tear came back fine, as well as inspecting for any leakage that disuse could have caused. The job was a lot messier than he remembered, with the oil gathering around the edges of the chassis coating his hands and part of his top.

The sudden barking of his dog nearby alerted him to a presence on the property, a smirk creeping up knowingly that your interest had once again gotten the better of you. You just stood there next to him staring him down, checking out his arm muscles that were left uncovered by the loose gray tank he wore, the words of your friends running through your mind as they egged you on to get closer to him. He had been working hard, and you noticed with a flush that some of the oil had smudged up his forearms and along his taught biceps.

He was tempted to chuckle at just how predictable you were becoming, knowing before he turned to look your way that you would be gazing over him with that distinct look in your eyes. It was no surprise to him at all that he was correct, finding you standing there with your shadow cast over him, and your arms wrapped around yourself, transfixed. He was seriously wondering if you didn’t know you were staring at him that way, or if you just didn’t care to hide it.

You sucked in a sharp breath as you found your eyes suddenly catching his, quickly darting away from his bright blue ones and to the motorcycle he was working on. “Oh wow, didn't know you had a bike.”

“This old girl? Been with me for years,” he said as his large hand patted the hard seat in front of him. He then used the seat as a brace to stand up, stretching out the stiff muscles that had begun to seize up from his crouched position while also putting his body on full display for your eyes.

You couldn’t help yourself as you watched him riveted, taking in the way he flexed and moved as you felt a blush flash across your cheeks again. You had to cough to clear your throat as you tore your eyes away from him. “Haven't seen you ride it.”

“Not much of a chance to lately.”

You bit your cheek at the thought of him on it, and of you wrapped around his firm back while he rode it. No matter what, your mind kept going back to him, reliving the sensation of his skin under your hands when you had put lotion on his body, desperate to touch-

“I need to wash.”

“What?” you yelped, startled out of your wandering thoughts which snapped to his oil-covered arms and hands, eyeing them up and instantly imagining them instead coated in lather and foam as water streaked down them. You wouldn't have minded being the one to wash that oil off of his skin if it meant running your hands all over him again, a thought you were coming to accept was fueled by nothing but pure lust.

“The bike. It's filthy,” he clarified with an amused chuckle, leaving you feeling hot, embarrassed and completely disappointed. Of course he meant the bike, you scolded yourself, suddenly flushing more with humiliation than arousal.

Unexpectedly, he moved to bend down right in front of you, the tank he was wearing gaping open enough with the movement for you to look down the front of it and at his solid chest partially hidden underneath. “Oh,” you sighed out as you bit your tongue hard in an effort not to say more, his head becoming dangerously close to your crotch, and if he just shifted over a little more…

His rough hand reached into the bucket next to you to grab the sponge floating on top, his eyes moving to catch yours as he shot you a downright dangerous smirk. As he stood back up straight, he rang the sponge out to remove the excess water, the soapy suds flying everywhere around the pair of you. You noticed that the foam coated his tank and turned it translucent in the sun as it clung tightly to his body and left trails of droplets over his uncovered skin. All you could do was swallow hard and drag your eyes off of him, a task that was more monumental than you thought it would be.

With a casualness about him, he set the sponge down on the seat of the bike suddenly, asking you, “Wanna go for a ride sometime?”

You were caught by surprise, mind instantly faltering at the evocative question. There was no way he meant anything other than a ride on his motorcycle, right? you thought. After all, he was just a friendly older man, not some hormone riddled teen chatting up the first woman he laid eyes on. It was you that had the dirty mind. “I, um, maybe? I don't have much experience with them,” you said, answering his question as best you could ramble out.

His eyebrow quirked at your answer, his voice deepening slightly as he replied, “Hmm, never thought that would be the case. I don't mind teaching you a few things, sweetheart.”

You just laughed off his words, thinking the suggestiveness was still all on you. “I've never even been on a bike.”

“Who said I was talking about my bike?”

Your breath instantly hitched at the implication, your eyes darting between his mirth filled ones only to drift lower and catch onto his lips. They looked soft, warm, highlighted on each side by deepened laughter lines that you never would’ve thought could look so good on a man. But as they say, when men get older they age like fine wine. If that was the case, he would be a Cabernet Sauvignon aged to perfection. And you were parched.

It didn’t surprise you at all that when you found yourself shifting closer to him, you chose to embrace it, craving to feel the lips of the man you had spent too much time lately thinking about, only to become emboldened as he seemed to move in too. Your lips were mere inches apart, the heat of desire desperately running through you at the anticipated touch.

All that came crashing down the moment his dog streaked past you chasing that damn squirrel, sending the bucket of water flying and splashing water across you both, cooling down your racing pulse and burning libido. Alarmed, you quickly backed away from him, down his drive, as the implications of what you almost did crashed down upon you. All you could do was mutter some kind of excuse and beat a hasty retreat, wondering how you would ever be able to look your neighbor in the eye the next time you saw him.

━━━━━━━━━━━

As Leon watched the scene unfold in front of him, there wasn’t much else he could do. You were a slippery one, like a mouse that had been spooked and scurried off. The one that got away. He placed his hands on his hips, arms akimbo as he clucked his tongue and sighed. Rein it in, Kennedy. What were you thinking?

He really should find better things to do than to chase a pretty little thing like you. You probably had a bunch of younger men waiting in line, he noted self-deprecatingly.

Suddenly, he heard a buzzing sound and a light flickered on the ground at his feet. Your phone. It must have slipped out of your pocket in your rush to get away. Picking it up, his eyes darted towards the message notification on the screen that piqued his curiosity. It seemed to come from a group chat entitled ‘All The Single Ladies’.

‘Raaarrr, is that the literal definition of a silver fox or what?’

Silver fox? Did they mean what he was thinking? He began to second-guess himself.

The next notification popped up only seconds after, filled with thirsty-looking emojis followed by another text.

‘Damn gurl, your neighbor is hot af! You better tap that or I will!’

More strings of notifications chimed in, as the phone vibrated constantly.

‘GILF alert!’

‘I wanna blow him so hard he’ll…’

At that, he put the phone down and stopped reading, already having figured out your spiel and not wanting to intrude any further into your privacy. A wry smile formed across his face. Not only had you been speaking with your friends about him, you’d even sent them a sneaky picture you’d snapped of him to gawk at.

A sense of pride swelled in his chest as he was back in the game again. Guess he’d better clean up and use the perfect excuse of returning your phone back to you to have a chat.

Meanwhile at your place, you’d managed to calm your nerves with a cold shower and a pot of floral tea. That was so stupid! you screamed at yourself internally, not daring to look in the direction of the window any longer.

Before you had a chance to ponder upon your recent actions any longer, your stomach growled audibly. Glancing up at the clock, you were astonished to find that the hours had just sped by unnoticed. It was already time to start cooking dinner. You had a whole chicken and potatoes to roast, as well as the vegetables, herb butter and sauce to prepare.

Your friends were supposed to have joined you today for the meal, but unfortunately unforeseen circumstances had kept them preoccupied, and your dinner gathering had been delayed to another weekend. Still, you were determined not to let that get in the way of your enjoyment, so you decided to go ahead with the same meal plan anyway.

If only today’s events had gone differently with a certain neighbor of yours. You sighed dejectedly and pressed a palm against your face. Though that sparked off a reminder that you hadn’t checked your phone for any messages for a while. Where was it?

You scrambled around, digging through your pockets and your purse to find the device, but came back empty-handed. A blinding panic began to set in. Oh god no. You didn’t leave it at Leon’s by accident, did you?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

Just then, the doorbell rang, startling you and causing you to jump to your feet. You sprinted towards the door, swinging it open, only to come face-to-face with the man who had been causing you all this trouble so far.

“H-hello…?” you stammered out a greeting, slowly wedging yourself behind the door, using it like a makeshift barrier between you and Leon.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He dangled your phone in front of him, grinning playfully. “Forgot something?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. Thanks!” You reached out, grabbing it quickly as you rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly.

A horrifying thought swept through your mind. Did he know? You searched his facial expression closely for any indication that he might have seen something on your phone that he shouldn’t have, but there was nothing. He looked as cool and collected as ever.

Maybe you were overthinking things. “I was just about to make dinner actually,” you mentioned in passing.

He looked at you expectantly and whatever willpower you had left in that instant vanished into thin air. You caved in.

“Would you like to join me?” The words spilled out of your mouth before you could process them.

"Thought you'd never ask," he replied huskily as he stepped into the corridor you led him through.

“So what’re we cooking tonight, chef?” He peered around the kitchen, checking out the equipment and utensils, trying to get acquainted with the place.

You guffawed. “Erm, you’re a guest.”

“So?” He folded his arms. “I’m not the type who lets a lady do all the work.”

Aware that he wasn’t going to budge on the matter, you raised your hands in mock exasperation. “You’re impossible.”

“You’re not the first to say it.” He shrugged, sliding past you towards where the aprons were hanging. You gasped when you felt his calloused hands momentarily on your waist. Was he doing this on purpose?

Pulling yourself together, you started to brief him on the Sunday Roast Chicken recipe, passed down through generations in your family from a battered, old notebook. He responded to each instruction with a “Yes, ma’am,” and followed them to a T. You had to give him brownie points for his eagerness to please.

“No, Leon,” you scolded gently. “That doesn’t go there.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Could you stop calling me ma’am?” You laughed. “Makes me feel old.”

“You’re one to talk.” He winked at you while placing the baking tray on the correct level. “Are you this bossy in the bedroom?”

You nearly spat out the water you’d been sipping on. “Uh, I-I don’t know?” Clearly, you wanted to bury yourself in a hole right there and then.

“Guess the proof is in the pudding,” he mumbled under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear every single word.

“Wine?” Your shrill voice cut through the air like a knife, as you tried to change the subject, shoving the bottle directly into his chest.

“Oof.” It stunned him that he felt winded by the accidental blow. He gripped the bottle as you eyed him apologetically. “Easy there, girl.”

“Sorry, my bad.”

You brought over two empty glasses while he helped to pour out the wine, your fingers grazing against his wrist as he handed you a filled up one back. A part of you wanted to prolong the caress, but you held back, unsure of where you stood with him. You could feel the weight of his burning gaze locked onto yours as he toasted to “neighbors and new beginnings” before drinking from his glass.

You almost missed your cue, taking an extra beat to raise your own glass to your lips as you dragged your eyes from his. The wine on your tongue tasted like the sweetest you had ever sipped. Maybe it’s the company? you questioned as you watched him drop his glass down on the counter behind him. You clutched your own tightly, feeling the atmosphere constricting as he refused to look away.

The only thing you could hear was the tick of the kitchen timer and the beat of your pulse in your ears as the silence stretched between you both. Besides the smoldering of his eyes under his snowy bangs, he gave you nothing, so with desperation, you racked your brain for something, anything, to keep the tense undercurrent at bay.

With a moment of clarity, it hit you as you dropped your own glass down and glanced over towards the far side of your kitchen. The single table sat there, usually a crowded affair when your friends were over but plenty big for just two. If nothing else, setting the table would keep you busy and your mind from wandering.

With a plan of action in place to set the table, you went to shift from your spot only to be met with another obstacle. Of all the places he had to be standing in your kitchen, it was just typical he was in front of the cutlery drawer. Still, even if you had to get close to him, it was meant to be a friendly dinner after all. The almost kiss was probably just in your mind and you had been overanalyzing too much. All he had done that night since was bring over your phone like a good Samaritan and help you cook dinner like a friend.

You walked over to him, noticing that despite your approach he didn't move at all, seeming very content to have you come into his close proximity. You caught his eyes as they drifted downwards, and all of a sudden you realized the mistake you were making. Being this near to him was setting off the blush you tried keeping down, and you were sure he was going to notice.

“May I?” you asked as you stopped in front of him, a hand pointing at the drawer behind him.

“Whatever you need,” he murmured, while not even moving a step away.

You blinked up at him, trying hard not to imagine what else he could possibly mean with those words. “The drawer. I keep the cutlery in there.”

Despite your explanation, he still didn’t shift, instead just staying where he was and watching you curiously. He had to wonder what you were up to, getting so close to him with that cute flush on your face, stammering out any old excuse. You didn’t need one at all, in his opinion.

“Oh.”

That one syllable sent a shiver down your spine. It was a mistake, a really, really bad one you decided right then and there. Just being so near to him, feeling the heat of his breath was making the ache to touch him that much more potent. You wanted to feel those lips.

You backed off from him in a hurry, fighting the flush that you felt flooding your skin as you bumped into the oven, clanging the pan you had on top that had been left out to help you prepare the dinner. You found your excuse to keep him at bay, still needing to finish preparing a few final bits of the meal.

“Help set the table?” you quickly asked him with your voice a tad too high. “Plates are up there.”

You hoped it worked, sending him a good distance away from you in the kitchen to arrange the table while you got your overheated body under control.

“There’s that bossy thing again,” you heard him mutter as he opened the cabinet you had pointed to and reached up to grab a couple of plates, though his words sounded strangely disappointed to your surprise.

You tried not to look over, but in the end it was in vain. You were blessed by the sight of his shirt ridden up, once again showing off his ridiculous physique and making you feel like melting all over again.

Tonight’s dinner was going to be a long one.

━━━━━━━━━━━

In spite of the earlier faux pas, you were thankful that having dinner with Leon passed by without any further embarrassments. He proved to be quite a decent conversationalist when he wanted to be, and you found yourself relaxing into the laughter and various points of discussion you both shared. You were enjoying yourself so much that you hadn’t realized how fast time had flown, and it was suddenly nearing midnight. Suffice to say, you were feeling rather disappointed that he would need to leave so soon.

“Good food, good wine, good company…” He stood up, helping you to clear the dishes from the table. “What more could a man like myself ask for?”

You beamed at him, letting your guard down for once. He was being such a gentleman that you couldn’t help but open your mouth and blabber out the next statement before thinking. “Could I get you anything else? Dessert, or-”

You caught yourself, pausing abruptly as your stomach sank. Why did everything you say sound like an innuendo?

He placed the dishes down where they were and made his way slowly and assuredly towards you. For some reason, you were frozen on the spot, unable to scamper off and hide within your own home without looking like an absolute fool in front of the man you had been secretly crushing on this whole time.

“You know, I can see the gears turning.” It was as if his voice dropped an octave lower. “Right here.” He tapped his fingers lightly against the side of your head, giving you a slanted smile.

“Now that you say it,” he continued languidly. “Dessert would be nice.”

He curled his hand, so that his knuckles brushed along your cheek towards your jawline, as you shivered from his touch.

“Whatever you need,” you echoed his previous sentiments softly, as you lost yourself in his deep blue eyes, now ablaze with a fierce hunger. All you could do was stare into them, watching as they drew ever closer. Then you caught it, the moment they left yours to drop down lower. Your lips parted as you inhaled sharply, your heart pounding as you felt the ghost of his breath.

You thought that he would pull away at any second, that it was just another misunderstanding. That was until you felt the first light brush against your lips. Your mind went blank, struggling to keep up until it hit that he was kissing you. All those prior moments with him flashed across your mind, and none of them had been innocent after all.

His hand slid to rest against your cheek, pulling your face closer to his as his lips caressed your own, coaxing you to reciprocate as you finally gave in to the yearning that had constricted you for so long. His lips were softer than you thought they would be, but warm as you returned the kiss with an indulgent sigh.

You felt him smile against your mouth, as you trailed your hands along his arms towards his shoulders, pressing your body against his in an effort to deepen the kiss. He grew bolder, licking across the slight parting of your lips, as if seeking permission to continue. Whimpering in pleasure, you allowed him to move his tongue to meet yours, drawing in his taste again and again.

As you started to gently grind into him, he broke away for air, pressing his forehead against yours, panting heavily against your swollen mouth. “Delicious,” he breathed, before clamping his lips at the side of your neck, sucking and nibbling at a particularly sensitive spot.

Tugging the collar of his shirt tightly, you rasped, “How about a second helping?”

The next thing you knew, you were lying on your bed, slick with sweat while Leon rocked his hips against yours. You savored the fullness of him in you, grasping onto his ass as your nails dug into his skin, leaving angry, red marks in the process. “More,” you whined, in a tone that came off unintentionally on the side of demanding rather than pleading.

He gave you just what you asked for, with sweet nothings coming from his lips along with comments about knowing you were going to be bossy. Testing the waters brought you both much further than expected, but neither of you could complain.

The rest of the night went by in a dreamlike haze. At some point, you rode him on top, his large, chafed hands groping your breasts, as you tilted your head back and cried out until your voice was hoarse. At another, you leaned your back flush against his chest as he thrust into you from behind, groaning incoherently into your neck.

You took things in your own stride, resting when needed and going again when it was comfortable to do so. Even though he had set the pace slower than you were used to, it was no less intense. In fact, everything felt deeper and more passionate, like you were melting into one.

Every release he brought you was an ascension that sent you beyond, flooding you with a euphoria that made you desperate for him. It left you addicted, your body craving more and more of his touch each time until nothing but the feel of his skin and the shifting of the sheets could be comprehended.

The final time was intense, filled with a feeling of pure bliss that you knew you would be dreaming about for days as you clung to him in desperate abandon. His name fell from your lips in a gasp, and in turn he muttered yours.

Splayed across his damp chest, you traced the lines of his freckled, weathered skin, as he stroked your hair contentedly. “Best dessert I’ve had in a while,” he grunted, intertwining his fingers with yours and bringing your knuckles to meet his lips. “Michelin star worthy.”

You swatted his hand playfully, giggling at his quip. It spurred you on to tease him back. “So, will I get an actual ride next time?”

He chuckled heartily, though he didn’t miss a beat. Age was never an issue, he still had his wits about him. “’Course, sweetheart.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you. “If you tell me what a GILF is.”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy fluff #older!leon #older leon kennedy #resident evil #porcelainscribbles #writing collab

428 notes · View notes

leahsgirl · 4 months

Text

“yes you idiot.”

— in which leah has planned on proposing to you for a long time - except when that time does come; it all goes awry.

pairings - leah williamson x reader (female)

warnings - none, just minor swearing.

a/n - this is my first shot at writing so it may be horrible i apologise

—

“so once i’ve finished setting everything up I’ll text you and let you know i’m on my wa-“ Leah was mid conversation with Beth and Viv; until you interrupted of course, slotting yourself next to the blonde and matching strides with her as you make your way off the training pitch.

“what are you guys talking about?” you questioned as you observed beth and viv give each other a quick glance.

“nothing baby, I was just asking how myles was adjusting.” Leah replied, reaching out for your hand.

You and Leah have been dating for two and a half years, having officially met playing for the England squad a year prior. While Leah wasn’t your biggest fan to begin with - that soon changed when you made the transfer from manchester united to arsenal, allowing you and the blonde to get closer which then resulted in the two of you starting dating.

“oh my god, you have no idea how excited i’ve been to see him again.”

“i still want to know how you taught him to sit the first time meeting him - he won’t do it for me and Viv.” Beth bewildered.

“what can i say? i’m just the chosen one.” you smirked. “are you sure you can’t come Lee?” Now diverting your attention back to your girlfriend who was sorting out clothes to change into. You and a few of the other girls were going to Beth and Viv’s for a little girls/catch up night, unaware it was actually a set up to keep you out the house while Leah put her plan into action.

“i’ve got to go and help Jacob move stuff out of his apartment y/n or you know i’d be there.” She kissed your cheek.

“definitely just a sore loser because ya’ lost the game last time we went.” Katie piped up, appearing next to the taller girl who in turn gave her a petty slap on the arm.

—

“you’re beautiful.” a voice spoke from the other end of the room, slowly getting closer and wrapping their arms around you from behind as you looked at yourself in the mirror, peppering a few light kisses near your ear.

“and you’re late, weren’t you meant to meet Jacob twenty mins ago?”

Leah shrugged it off. “and miss the chance of admiring my girl. no way.” She planted a quick kiss on your lips, knowing you’d just finished applying your makeup. “besides, he changed the time to seven, i’ve got a good half an hour.”

She plonked herself down on the bed, fiddling with the rings she wore on her fingers. “what you thinking about in that pretty head of yours?” throughout your relationship with leah, you’ve got to know her pretty much inside and out, and if theres one thing you do know; she only messes with her rings when something is bothering her. “hm..nothing, just thinking about us i guess.”

“us?” you pushed, now joining her on the bed. “just like how we’ve ended up here and how thankful i am for you and everything.” the blue-eyed girl turned to look at you, as if she was studying your whole face. “well, i’m very thankful for you too, even if you are a pain in the arse most of the time.” the twenty-six year old faked hurt and annoyance. “but i love you.” you said more sincerely, placing a tender kiss on Leah’s forehead.

“i love you too.”

Leah kindly offered to drop you off at Beth and Viv’s which you accepted of course. All of the other girls were already there; Alessia and Lottie were fussing over myles, Katie, Caitlin and Steph was in what seemed like a very intense conversion, Jenn and Lia was messing with different filters on TikTok and Beth & Viv were playing host.

“there she is! y/n come in.” Viv ushered you inside and offered you a drink. You immediately making a beeline for the man of the hour, crouching down preparing to be bombarded by a very excited puppy.

Meanwhile, back at the apartment, Leah had began decorating. Her plan was for you to come home to a nice romantic homemade dinner, where after you share some nice conversation and food - she would pop the question, asking you to be her wife.

She’s had this planned for a good couple of months, having gone out with some of your teammates to acquire the goods and then going ring shopping on one of her few days off. To be honest, she was quite proud of herself she’s managed to keep this a secret from you for all this time.

The blonde started by blowing up some heart shaped balloons, followed by scattering rose petals from the front door all the way to the dining table which had been covered with a white table cloth and taper candles. She was making your favourite dishes for the meal of course; pasta with pesto and finishing with churros.

easier said than done however. “how do i make pasta?” the defender flipped the camera so her mum who was now on facetime can see the ingredients. It was times like this where she wishes she helped with the cooking more around the house. After practically what turned out to be a cooking lesson, Leah took the opportunity to change into something nicer, and less covered in flour.

Making her way around the bedroom, she opened her nightstand drawer, sifting a few things around until she pulled out a small black velvet box. She opened it briefly, checking the ring was okay and preyed to god you would like it.

Taking one final look at her work around the house, she pulled out her phone to text the fellow forward.

to: meado

just finished up back here, i’m gonna start heading to yours now.

As the night died down, your teammates and yourself had all congregated in the living room, spread across the sofa and the floor with some kind of cheesy sitcom that Lia put on playing in the background. Different conversations were going on, you finding yourself in a deep conversation with Jenn and Caitlin.

“Well well, look who finally decided to show her face.” Katie announced, pointing at all too familiar blonde locks. “Hey guys.” You got up and walked over to her planting a kiss on her cheek.

“i thought you had to help your brother?” You ask while absentmindedly rubbing her back. “oh..i did, we just finished so I thought i’d come pick you up.”

“Do you want a drink Leah?” Steph offered, holding up a beer in each hand. “No thanks, we have to get back to the apartment.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Do we?”

“Yes we do, now come on.” She took your hand and tried to pull you to the door. “What’s with the rush? You’re being weird Lee.”

“I’m not - i’m just tired that’s all, i’m ready for bed.” She fake yawned. You sighed, “okay grumpy, just let me say bye to everyone.”

It’s safe to say the car ride home was no better. Leah’s leg was bouncing up and down which isn’t exactly ideal when you’re driving, she was cursing out everyone on the roads and kept messing with her bangs if they moved in the slightest. “Are you sure you’re okay love?”

The blonde turned to look and you and gave a weary smile, lifting your hand to her lips and giving it a gentle peck. “I’m fine I promise.”

Walking up the steps to your shared home, Leah stopped you before opening the door. “Okay I need you to close your eyes and only open them when I tell you.”

Complying, you shut your eyes. “Suspicious Miss Williamson.” You stated as you could hear your girlfriend fiddling with her keys in the door. she wrapped her arm around yours and guided you inside. “Okay you can open them now.” You followed her advice and took in your surroundings, suddenly getting an overwhelming sense of love surge over you. “Surprise.” Leah pulled you over to the candlelit table and pulled out a chair for you, waiting for you to sit down to then tuck you in. “Lee..i’m speechless. What’s all this for?”

“Just doing my girlfriend duties and treating you.” The blonde brought over two dishes to the table and sat herself down opposite you. “Shut up! you made my favourite meal?!” Taking a bite off your fork, your mouth practically waters with how good it tastes. “Oh my god, babe this is incredible.” Deciding to be more romantic, you twirl some of the pasta onto your fork and hold it out for Leah to take which she does.

it was all going really well; it had been long overdue since you and leah had a ‘date’ so to speak. While you loved your job and wouldn’t trade it for the world, it often meant romantic gestures like these were far and few in between.

“Is something burning?” The smell of smoke filling your nostrils as you look at the kitchen.

“Shit shit shit!” Leah was quick to her feet, opening the oven where a surge of grey smoke escaped and pulled out a tray with what were now very burnt churros. “For fuck sake.” The defender whined “Well there goes dessert.”

Joining her behind the kitchen island, you looked at the baking tray. “well..you tried.” half-heartedly joking, you looked at the older girl who now had a pout on her face. “It’s okay Leah, you made a lovely pasta. Besides, i’m sure we have some ice cream or something in the freezer.”

“No you don’t understand, tonight was meant to be perfect.” She ran her hands through her hair in frustration. You knitted your eyebrows together “Okay out with it.” sternly said, crossing your arms.

“Hm?”

“You’ve been on edge all day..you change the conversation when i caught up to you, meado and Viv. You couldn’t come to girls night which you never miss; i know you said you had to help your brother but then he suddenly changes times, you was angsty all the way home and now you’re practically arguing with the oven. So tell me what’s going on.”

Leah motioned for you to sit on the sofa. “Okay this isn’t how I wanted it to go down but-“ She took a deep breath. “Y/n, as you know i’m not really big on talking about my feelings, but the past three years have been the happiest of my life. you make me excited for the next day to come, you always push me, you stuck with me during my lowest, especially during my acl recovery, you just make me a better person.”

She takes your hand in hers, caressing your skin with her thumb and looks you directly in the eyes which at this point were working hard to not well up. “I guess what i’m trying to say is-“ She reaches into her pants pocket pulling out the familiar black velvet box. “-Will you marry me?”

As she says those four words, she opens the box and looks down at it, doing a double take as she sees its empty - the ring no where to be seen. “What the fuck, where’s the pissing ring.” Colour is draining from her face at this point as she stands up and frantically starts pacing. “You’ve got to be shitting me, the one day i need things to go smoothly.”

“Do you mean this ring?” You held up a ring with an oval diamond at the centre of it. Leah looked dumbfounded “How-how did you-“ The blonde was at a loss for words.

“Lee you dropped it twice during dinner - i even passed it to you once.” You giggled as you passed her the ring back “Did you?”

“See, you’ve been so uptight you didn’t even realise.” Standing up, you wrapped your arms around her neck, moving closer so that your faces were inches apart. “But my answer is yes.” you say barely above a whisper.

“yes?” at this point you thought you’d broke your poor girlfriend. “Yes i’ll marry you idiot.” Pressing your lips onto hers, you emerged yourselves into a deep kiss filled with passion.

Your now fiancé slipped the ring into your finger, admiring the ring and then you. She picked you up, twirling you around out of pure happiness and relief.

“Now how about dessert?” You winked and tugged her towards the bedroom.

liked by lucybronze and 2,086,773 others

leahwilliamson introducing future mrs williamson

usera SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP

chloekelly congratulations ❤️

userb y/n on that wag life

youruser whose to say it’s not gonna be ‘leah y/l/n’

leahwilliamson replying to youruser y/n williamson just sounds better

kierawalsh congrats lovebirds 😄❤️

liked by alessiarusso and 1,887,201 others

youruser imagine i said no

ellatoone 😍❤️

userc Y/N’s GETTING MARRIED IM DOING ROLYPOLYS

1maryearps congrats kiddo!

userd please the difference in her and leah’s captions

jodiemcomer so happy for you y/n, congrats X

#leah williamson x reader #lionesses #arsenal wfc #leah williamson #y/n #proposal #england lionesses #beth mead #instagram #man united wfc #arsenal women

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thestarsarebrightertonight · 1 month

Text

foolish one // draco malfoy x fem slytherin reader

playlist: foolish one - taylor swift

summary : youve never had a boyfriend before , guys dont ask you out or really talk to you. just when you start to feel hopeless , draco cant hold back anymore.

y/n used , soft slytherin reader , fluff , short

masterlist

"pansy, am i hideous?" you asked seriously as you sat down at the slytherin table, all of your friends turning to you in shock.

"what?!-" pansy who sat on the right side of you replied in pure confusion.

"its the 5th hogsmeade trip since the start of the year and still nothing! i thought maybe harry was going to ask me this week , but turns out he was getting closer to me to soften up cho!" you exclaimed in pure terror , reliving the moment you saw your close friend ,cho, walking arm in arm with the boy you thought would ask you out this weekend.

draco , unbeknownst to you, clenched his fist tightly at your words , burning holes into his plate as if it were harry potter himself. he completely stayed still as he refused to look your way , eventhough you were sat right next to him.

"y/n! how could you even think such a thing!" pansy said with sympathy.

"yeah , who would ever dream of going on a date with potter?" mattheo added , recieving a smack on the arm from lorenzo.

"i wasnt dreaming! i just....every girl in our year has gone out with a boy by now , ive not even had my.......my first kiss yet.." you muttered in shame as mattheo held back his laugh leading you to shoot him a glare.

"and thats no fault of yours y/n!" pansy rubbed your back softly , "id actually say it was these idiots , always scaring boys off!"

the boys just stared back at her plainly , knowing they had all at some point threatened a boy they felt didnt deserve you.

"yeah well youre just so innocent y/n , not just any boy will do." lorenzo said trying to defend the protectiveness.

"any boy WILL DO!" you said with frustration , making them all move back in suprise , you never usually got angry, "and im not innocent , im only 'innocent' because you guys are blocking me from blossoming!"

mattheo fully burst out laughing now , gaining a disapproving look from pansy who quickly looked away from him to rest a hand on your shoulder, "im sure youll find someone y/n."

"yeah and maybe theyre a bit closer than you think," blaise said with a smirk , shoving dracos shoulder which earns him a scowl from the blonde haired boy.

but you simply wouldnt listen to reason , you just sat with a low hung head and a loss of hope , "i feel so foolish. a few weeks ago i thought cedric , then dean , then harry and none of them ever actually liked me. im delusional!"

"y/n ill take you-" theodore started before being cut off by draco jumping up from his seat , staring straight forward in a stiff position.

"ill take you on a date to hogsmeade!" draco announced , frozen in his spot and refusing to meet your eye.

"really? do you really mean it?!..... but draco you dont like me it isnt the same.." you said as the happiness you felt dwindled making your overthinking increase.

"i like you! a lot, i really like you!" he said still completely frozen and blushing a deep shade of maroon.

you gaped up at him in suprise, pure shock on your face and all of your friends. except they werent suprised draco likes you , they were suprised he confessed.

"i-...i like you too.." you confessed quietly as draco slowly looked at you , his face riddled with euphoria and shock.

"really?" he asked with hope.

"yes really , id know since i have to hear her rant about it every night-" mattheo complained before lorenzos hand covered his mouth hastily.

"yes, yeah i really like you," you said as a smile grew on your face , looking up at him.

and slowly , he let his guard down and smiled back , lighting up the room with his happiness. you admired him for a second before getting up from the bench and grabbing his hand.

"lets go , we can still spend a few hours in hogsmeade if we go now, im so excited!" you squealed , planting a loving kiss on his cheek before dragging him out of the hall.

all of your friends watched in amusement as draco went stiff and turned the all too familiar shade of red.

400 notes · View notes

andvys · 6 months

Text

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 24

Warnings: slight angst, weed and alcohol consumption, mentions of heartbreak, mentions of unrequited feelings, love triangle. not proofread

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader | Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: You take Robin's advice and take some time to yourself in hopes that it will help you figure out your feelings.

Word count: 5k

A/N: If any of you mind the Eddie x reader in this story, you might want to stop reading cause there will be more Eddie x reader from now but also, still a lot of Steve x reader, as well.

series masterlist

Chrissy is watching you with curious eyes as she leans against the counter in Robin’s kitchen, she is snacking on the raspberries that Robin had gotten for her. Robin is mixing the cocktails that you have wished for.

The Cure is playing in the living room, you are sitting on the couch, crossed legged with a magazine on your lap. The rain is paddling down the windows, distant thunder rumbling in the sky. This summer has been a hot and rainy one.

Robin looks over at you, watching the way you change positions and lie back, holding up the magazine as you hum along to the song.

“How long will it take her? What do you think?”

Robin looks over at Chrissy, eyes skipping down to her lips as she pops another raspberry into her mouth.

“What do you mean?” Robin asks, blushing when Chrissy catches her staring.

Chrissy looks down at the counter, hiding her smile. She might not ever get over the very visible effect she has on Robin.

“For her to call Eddie.”

Robin snorts.

“Well, I told her that she needs time to herself.”

“She really does but there is no y/n without Eddie anymore,” Chrissy chuckles.

“Seriously,” Robin mumbles.

Chrissy furrows her brows, eying her slowly, “I mean, it’s not a bad thing. Eddie is good to her.”

She nods.

“Yeah, well, she needs to figure out her feelings and who she wants.”

Chrissy frowns.

“Robin, I don’t think that she wants anyone, right now,” she mumbles, shaking her head at the taller girl, “even if she has feelings for Eddie, it doesn’t mean that she will get into a relationship with him now, she’s not ready and he knows it, that’s why he hasn’t made a move on her yet.”

Robin and Chrissy are aware of Eddie’s feelings – everyone is, everyone except for you.

Anyone can see the way he looks at you. The way his eyes light up whenever he sees you, the way his cheeks flush a deeper color whenever you lean closer to him or take his hand. The way he looks so much happier when you’re around.

“It’s not just Eddie, she still loves Steve and one of them is gonna end up with a broken heart,” Robin mumbles as she reaches for the straws in the drawer.

Chrissy frowns at her, “you’re acting like she’s leading them on, Robin. It’s not like she’s messing around with them both. As far as I know, Steve was the only one she kissed and that was only one time. She’s not even hanging out with him unless we’re all there. I don’t think that he’s ever getting a second chance.”

Robin sighs as she puts the straws into the drinks she just finished making.

“I get it, you care about all of them but nothing is happening between them–”

“Nothing is happening yet. You didn’t see what I saw.”

Chrissy rolls her eyes, she reaches for Robin’s hand, squeezing it tightly as she looks at her.

“Robin, you’re the best, my favorite girl ever, you know that.”

Robin’s heart skips a beat and a smile tugs at her lips as she looks down at the pretty blonde.

“But you need to leave them be. I can assure you, she would never hurt anyone on purpose, lead them on or mess around with them both. She’s not that kind of girl. She needs to figure out her feelings, yes. But she needs to do it on her own, I mean, we can be there for her and give advice but that’s all, nothing we will say or do will change the way she feels or thinks. We all know that she has feelings for them both and that fucking sucks because yeah, one of them will end up hurt if she has to choose between them but that’s not something that she or we need to worry about now. She is not even looking for a relationship and she’s certainly not looking for one with her ex-boyfriend – I mean, maybe in the future but not right now. Besides, I don’t think that he deserves her, not now, not ever.”

Chrissy looks at her with slight disappointment in her eyes, something that makes Robin shrink back a little. Robin has been more protective over Steve’s feelings than yours, it’s something that upsets her a little.

“I know he is your new best friend or whatever but, she is still your friend too and she’s been through a lot, don’t forget about what he did to her. The fact that she even took him back as a friend is more than he deserves. If I was in her place, I would’ve never even given him that chance.”

Guilt crosses Robin’s features and Chrissy knows that she had talked some sense into her.

“And don’t forget that it was Steve who made moves on her. He kissed her. She didn’t kiss him, she didn’t give him false hope, she also never gave Eddie false hope. So, let her deal with her feelings, let her feel – even if she ends up kissing them both or even hooking up with them both, it’s not your problem.”

She is right. Robin knows that she is but all she wanted to do was to keep her friends from hurting.

“Now let’s just drink these cocktails and have some fun,” Chrissy says, smiling at her.

Robin nods, “yeah.”

Chrissy steps closer, putting her hand on Robin’s shoulder, she inches closer and presses her lips against her cheek, kissing her.

It’s not the first time that Chrissy kissed her cheek but it makes her heart explode every time.

“You’re a good friend to them all, Robin. But you need to let them figure it all out on their own.”

Robin is too busy freaking out over the little kiss to come up with any words.

Chrissy moves away, hiding her smile as she looks down. She takes the bowl of raspberries and one of the drinks.

“Let’s go.”

“Y-Yeah,” Robin squeaks out, she closes her eyes when the blonde walks out of the kitchen. Taking a deep breath, she takes the other two drinks and follows her out.

You sit up when the two girls finally join you in the living room again. You close the magazine and throw it on the little table. Robin sits down next to you, handing you the drink she made.

You wrap your hand around the cold glass, taking it from her hand. You notice her pink cheeks and how she tries to hide her face behind her short hair.

“Took you two long enough, what were you doing in there, making out?” You tease her causing her to blush even harder.

She turns to you with wide eyes, hitting your arm, softly.

Chrissy giggles, staring at Robin.

“So, what kind of cocktail is it?” You ask, looking down at the pink drink.

“It’s a pink mojito,” Robin mumbles, rolling her eyes at the smirk on your face. At least you look a little more relaxed than you did earlier.

“Ooh! That sounds good!” You smile, looking between the two blushing girls, you hold your glass up, “well, cheers, girls!”

Chrissy smiles at the excited look in your eyes as you eagerly take a sip of the drink.

“Cheers,” Robin chuckles, flashing Chrissy a smile as she wraps her lips around the straw.

Your eyes widen as the sweetness hits your taste buds. You place your hand on Robin’s shoulder, turning towards her, excitedly.

“That’s so good, Robin! What the hell are you doing at Scoops Ahoy? You should be working at a bar!”

She chuckles, giving you a proud smile, “thanks.”

“You could be a bartender.”

Robin shrugs, patting herself on the shoulder as she takes another sip.

“A really hot one too,” Chrissy comments, causing Robin to almost choke on her drink.

You can’t hold back your laughter this time. You look at Chrissy, who is giggling at Robin’s reaction. You would be lying if you said that you are not impressed by Chrissy’s ability to flirt without turning into a blushing mess. She used to be so shy and awkward, now she seems more confident and happier than ever. It makes you happy to see her like this.

When you turn back to Robin, you almost burst into laughter again. Her cheeks are glowing.

When you first met her, you were a little intimidated by her, thinking that she was a little mean because of the way she would tease Eddie sometimes. You thought that she was someone who is very sure of herself and knows what she wants and how to get it. But it turns out that she turns into a shy, stuttering mess around the girl that she likes. You watched her flirt with Chrissy and fail miserably, something that makes Chrissy adore her even more.

“You good, Robin?” You ask, wiggling your brows at her.

“Yes, I’m fine! I’m gonna need a few of these tonight,” Robin mutters under her breath, staring down at her drink.

You know she expected something else of this night, something like you spilling all your true feelings to her but instead, she is the one getting teased.

By the look on her face, you already know that, that is gonna change soon.

Robin looks at the smile on your face, the one that doesn’t even reach your eyes. She knows what's going on in the back of your mind. A part of her wants you to just let all your guards down and spill all your feelings to her but the other part wants you to just let loose and have fun.

“Drink up, girl. I got some more cocktails for you to try.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

It’s been a long time since you had spent time with them alone, a girls night was long overdue. There are certain things that you can’t talk about with Eddie or Steve. Only as your mind finally relaxes after a few drinks, do you realize just how much you missed them. You missed Robin and her rambles or how she tries to make you laugh with stories about her work days with Steve. You missed Chrissy, it’s been a while since you had been with her, since you had gone shopping with her or had a girls night like this. You have been so in your head, dealing with your own thoughts and feelings that you haven’t even been aware of how much you’ve neglected your friendship with them.

Neither Chrissy or Robin have ever pulled away from you. It was you who pulled away from them. Not because you didn’t want to be around them anymore but because you wanted them to have the chance to be alone and get to know one another without you standing in between them. And, it wasn’t just that. Chrissy’s past feelings for you made you worry about how Robin would feel about you and your friendship with them both.

Heather is rarely ever around anymore. It’s not something you blame her for. You know what it’s like to be in love and wanting to spend every moment with that person. You just miss her and your girls night with her.

The smell of nail polish and alcohol and the vanilla scented candle all mingle together, normally, you would have had a headache already had you not been so tipsy.

Chrissy is trying not to mess up your nails as she carefully applies the black color to your nails, all while giggling after a few too many drinks.

“I swear, you’re gonna mess this up, Chris,” you say, giggling as she shakily holds the applicator.

“I’m not gonna mess it up! I’m a pro!” She flicks her hair back.

You snort.

“I told you not to do it drunk!”

“I am not drunk, do you see me struggling?” She tilts her head, giving you a pointed look as she gestures to your left hand.

You hold it up, squinting your eyes as you look at the colored nails. Not a single drop of black is painting the skin around your nails. You are impressed to see it done so perfectly, considering how the girl was giggling the whole time as she applied the nail polish.

“Wow, that’s actually impressive.”

“Told you, I’m a pro.” She gives you a proud smile.

You hear Robin in the kitchen, preparing another round of drinks. You watch Chrissy, a smile tugs at your lips. She looks content, her skin is glowing and she is wearing a constant smile on her face.

She is happy now.

How have you not noticed how sad she had been before she met Robin?

How have you not realized why she hated Steve so much?

How have you not figured out how she felt about you?

You had always been so focused on him, on your feelings, on your pain. You never noticed what was going on around you or who you were hurting.

She did so much for you. She was always there for you. She was there when you cried over him. She was there when he kept hurting you. She was there when he broke your heart.

Could you have done the same for someone you were in love with?

You have spent so many nights wondering what could have been if you and Steve had never crossed that line, if you just stayed friends.

Would you have to watch him fall in love with Nancy?

Would you have to watch him get hurt?

Would you have to watch him get his heart broken by her over and over again?

Would you have to pick up the pieces over and over again when he’d crawl back to her only to get hurt again?

Would you have to watch him get his heart completely crushed when she’d leave him for someone else?

Would you have to watch him love her even after what she did?

Could you do what she did?

Could you pick up the pieces and be there for him while loving him so much? While he’d love someone else?

Your smile falls and your heart sinks a little when you think about the way she felt.

“Hey,” you whisper.

She looks at you through her bangs, “hi.”

“I’m sorry.”

Her brows pull together, she eyes the sad look on your face. She leans back, letting go of your hand so she can put the applicator back into the little bottle.

“What are you sorry for?”

“I was a pretty shitty friend for not noticing how you felt, back then.”

Her eyes soften, a sigh falls from her lips. She shakes her head at you, “no, it’s–”

“It’s not okay and I’m just really sorry. You were always there for me and I was only ever focused on my feelings.”

Her blue eyes flash with understanding. She is not mad at you, she could never be.

“Well, I would be too if I was in your place. You really loved him and he really hurt you. I don’t blame you for how you felt or how you dealt with your pain. He was the one for you – hell, if I imagine myself in your place, I’d probably forget about everyone around me! I would just pack my stuff and run away just because I wouldn’t be able to look at her!”

“Would you?”

Her shoulders slump and a sad smile tugs at her lips, “no, I could never leave you and Heather.”

“And Robin.”

“She’s the heartbreaker in this scenario.”

“Oh,” you nod, giggling before you realize what she just said. Your face grows serious and your eyes widen, “o-oh!”

Her eyes flash with amusement when she watches the realization cross your features.

“You’re in love with her? Like, you’re in love with her! Like, she is ‘the one’, the one?!” You say in a hushed whisper.

She nods, unable to hide the smile on her face.

You squeal as quietly as you can, clapping your hands together as a bright smile appears on your face.

“Oh my god, Chrissy!”

You throw your arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug.

“Careful with the nails!” She says, panickedly before she falls into a fit of giggles when you squeeze her tightly.

“This is so exciting, Chris. Oh, I’m so happy for you– wait, are you two together? Please tell me you are, you are so cute together, oh my god, I’m gonna cry.”

You feel her body shaking a little as she pulls back from the hug, still laughing at your reaction.

“Yeah,” she whispers, “but it’s still a secret!”

“Since when!? How? Who asked who? I need to know everything!” You whisper.

She grabs your hands, grinning from ear to ear, she opens her mouth but before she can tell you anything, she gets interrupted by Robin who comes back with more drinks, cheerfully humming along to Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac.

She halts in her tracks, looking between you two, “what are you two whispering about? Some gossip you can’t share with me?” She jokes.

“Oh no, y/n was just about to tell us something.”

“Huh?”

“Oh, really?” Robin asks, smiling when she notices how carefree and relaxed you look, for once.

Chrissy presses her lips together, trying not to laugh when you keep smiling despite not knowing what to say.

“I-I uh, I just, I love you guys so much. You’re my best friends.”

Chrissy smiles at you and so does Robin.

“We love you too,” Robin chuckles, “is that the alcohol speaking though?”

You shake your head, “no, I really do love you, you’re both amazing and I appreciate you two so much.”

Robin’s gaze softens, she gets down on the ground next to you, “alright, group hug, please.”

You and Chrissy laugh a little as scoot closer to her, throwing your arms around Robin’s shoulders.

“Careful with the nails!” Chrissy scolds you when she realizes that they haven’t fully dried yet.

“Yeah, yeah,” you sigh.

Five days had passed since you had last seen Eddie. You have never spent this much time without him, you and him have been inseparable from the moment he stepped into your life.

Robin told you to take some time to yourself, to spend time with her and Chrissy or to just be by yourself because apparently it’s something that you desperately need. Some alone time. So, that’s what you did. You took some time to yourself. You got your hair done. You went shopping with Chrissy after work on Tuesday, you went out for dinner with Heather on Wednesday and on Thursday you fought to urge to visit Eddie at work.

You had already caved on Tuesday and called him late at night. He sounded sad when he picked up the phone, until he heard your voice. You had spent two hours talking to each other, both wearing smiles on your faces as you laid on your beds and talked like you haven’t seen each other in forever.

And then you did the same on Wednesday and Thursday.

Tonight, you are at Heather’s party.

You are wearing a new outfit, you did your hair differently and let Heather do your make up before you helped her prepare everything for the party. You didn’t feel like coming, you didn’t feel like spending your Friday night like this. But, Robin, Chrissy and Heather all convinced you to come.

You would rather be somewhere else.

Now, three drinks in and a few drags from Argyle’s joint, you feel sadder than ever. Instead of having fun on the dancefloor, you are in the garden, laying on one of the pool loungers and looking up at the stars in the sky, thinking about Eddie and Steve.

A cold bottle of beer resting in your hand. The music from the house, the chatter and the laughter filling the silence out here.

It’s been a long time since you had spent this much time by yourself or with just your girls. Robin wanted you to confront your feelings but, it’s not something that you had done this week, at all. If anything, you had done everything to avoid it.

You keep running and running and you don’t know how to stop. You are afraid of what you are feeling. You are afraid of what would change if you would finally acknowledge your feelings.

You don’t want to acknowledge them, you don’t want to risk losing something great.

In the past few days, you have spent a lot of time thinking about what it would be like, if you and Steve tried again.

Would things work out this time?

Or would you ruin everything beyond repair this time around?

What would it be like if you let your feelings for Eddie in?

Would you ruin yet another amazing friendship?

You sigh, closing your eyes as you shake your head at yourself. You finish the rest of your beer before you get up, swaying on your feet a little. Only now, do you realize how tipsy you really are.

“Shit,” you mumble, placing your hand on your forehead. You squint your eyes, staring down at the grass, your vision blurs a little.

You certainly can’t drive home like this, but it’s all you want. You want to go home. You don’t want to be here. You walk around the house, not bothering to get back inside and tell your friends that you’re leaving.

Eddie had a lot of bad days, though the past few ones have been one of the worst. His life had gotten so much better ever since you had stepped foot in it, you gave him something that he never had much of before; happiness and love. Though, the love was more platonic on your side, he never minded it, it’s more than he had ever gotten before. It’s something that he always felt privileged to have.

Who would have thought that he would ever get the chance to have someone like you in his life, in the first place?

Now that you’ve been gone, he got a taste of what his life would be like if you left again. And he hates it. He can’t stand it. The thought of you leaving makes him feel so lost and sad.

You’d take his heart with you and you would never even know it.

It was bad enough when you had called him on Monday, telling him that you’d be busy with Robin and Chrissy later that night and had to cancel your plans with him. He knew that Robin was the one who got in between you and it angers him a little.

She is doing it because of Steve.

‘Take a step back, Eddie. I don’t want you getting hurt.’ She had said to him the day at the lake. Except, she doesn’t really care about his feelings anymore. Eddie had done nothing to indicate that he was planning to make a move on you. You are still vulnerable. You are not ready for another relationship and you haven’t given him any big signs that you are even interested in him. Besides, you still love Steve and you might not ever stop loving him.

That’s why he would never think of making a move. He would rather stay your friend than lose you because he cannot keep his feelings to himself. It was bad enough when he had lashed out on you after he found out about the kiss.

If you had to choose between Steve and him, he is certain that he would lose.

Eddie looks down at the notebook and the song he had finished writing this week. At least, his sadness had inspired something.

A knock on the door startles him a little, he furrows his brows as he looks up at the clock on the wall, it’s almost 12am. He gets up, closing the notebook before he makes his way over to the front door.

He opens it with a frown on his face.

“What– y/n?”

“Hi!” You say with a cheerful and very drunk voice. You are swaying on your feet a little with your hands behind your back. “I got something for you,” you smile, excitedly.

“You – what? Sweetheart, what the hell are you doing, walking around at night?”

You don’t seem to care about the seriousness on his face. Instead, you reveal the ‘surprise’, holding up a bat plushie in front of his face.

“I saw this and it reminded me of you, so I got this for you – well, I actually stole it from the gas station after I went inside to buy doritos,” you mumble, as realization crosses your face and you start frowning, “I forgot the doritos, fuck!”

Eddie’s eyes soften, the worry still stays in his features but he’s more focused on the cute pout on your face and the bat that you had gotten for him.

He takes your hand in his, pulling you inside the trailer, “c’mere.”

“Are you okay?” He asks, eyeing you up and down, he notices the new outfit.

“Yeah. No, I mean, yes, I am okay. But, the party was boring and I-I missed you, Eddie,” you say as your shoulders slump and you look up at him with sad eyes, still holding the plushie. “I missed you so much.”

His heart flutters in his chest, his gaze softer than ever as he looks down at you.

“I missed you too, sweetheart.”

Your eyes light up and you smile, holding up the bat, “I think I might have to keep him so I don’t have to miss you anymore.”

Amusement flashes in his eyes and he laughs, “I thought you bought – wait no, stole him for me! Jesus Christ, sweetheart. I’m a bad influence for you, you’re out here stealing plushies.”

“I just needed to have him! He’s my little Eddie.”

He chuckles, shaking his head at you, “you’re so weird.”

You pout at him and that alone causes his stomach to flutter and his heart to beat a little faster. He will never not welcome the feelings you leave him with. The effect that you have on him is unlike anything he had ever felt before. Eddie was always afraid of this, of falling for someone, because he always knew that he would end up hurt, that love means pain. But with you, he doesn’t mind what it will be, even if it ends in pain and heartbreak for him, he doesn’t care. You will never know.

He stares at the happy look in your eyes as your eyes flicker back and forth between the bat and him. The glitter on your skin glistens beneath the golden light in the living room. Your skin looks so soft, your hair so shiny from whatever you had put in it. The smile that lingers on your lips makes his heart flutter so strongly.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Your brows knit together, a bigger smile appearing on your face, “thank you.”

You step closer to him and he watches with curious eyes. You inch closer and closer, until you’re right in front of him. You throw the bat on the small table and then, you wrap your arms around Eddie’s middle and hug him tightly, taking him by surprise.

He chuckles, trying to hide the fact that he is freaking out, right now.

You’re always affectionate, just not like this.

He wraps his arms around you, moving his hand through your hair. He smells your shampoo, your perfume, the hairspray in your hair but also, the weed and the alcohol.

“How much did you drink tonight?” He asks, mumbling into your hair as he leans down.

You press yourself further into his chest, tightening your grip on him, “not that much.”

“Right,” he chuckles, “that’s why you stole a plushie and are so cheerful – I’m still mad at you for walking through town, by the way. It’s dangerous.”

“I’m fine, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, but you still should’ve called me. I would’ve picked you up.”

“I wanted to get some fresh air, and some doritos,” you frown.

“We’ll get you some tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” you sigh, pulling back to look up at him, “can I stay over tonight?” You ask, before you hold your hand in front of your mouth, yawning.

He smiles at you, “of course, come on. Let’s get that make up off first.”

He takes your hand in his, giving it a squeeze as he leads you into his bedroom. You take a seat on his bed and tiredly lean down to take your shoes off but he tells you to sit back. He kneels down in front of you, pushing your hands away. He wraps his hand around your right ankle, placing your foot on his lap, his fingers graze your skin softly and you suddenly feel more awake than ever. He slowly loosens the strap around your ankle. His brows are pulled together, a concentrated look on his face.

All you can focus on is his touch and the way it makes you feel. The way something more blossoms in your chest as you feel his hands on your skin.

When he is done, he looks up and you quickly look away with a blush on your cheeks. He gets up and walks over to his dresser, opening the first drawer, he picks out a shirt.

“Alright, you get changed and I’m getting those makeup remover thingies,” he mumbles as he hands you the shirt.

You giggle at the confused look on his face.

He gives you a smile before he leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

You get up and take your jewelry off first. Placing the rings and your necklace on the little nightstand. You take your top off first and then your skirt, throwing both items over the chair in his room before you put his shirt on. Instantly feeling much better in it.

You sit down on his bed again and lay back on the pillows, closing your eyes for just a moment before you already feel the tiredness washing over you.

“Uh, don’t fall asleep on me now, sweetheart,” Eddie says as he walks back into the room.

“I’m tired,” you whine.

“You can sleep in a few minutes,” he chuckles as he sits down beside you.

It’s not the first time that you are wearing his shirt, but every time he sees you in his clothes, he feels his heart skip a little faster.

“Come on,” he whispers, reaching for your wrist to pull you up. You groan but let him pull you up. You open your eyes, looking at him tiredly.

“So, tell me, what did you do tonight?” He asks, brushing your hair back. “Besides being a little thief?”

You giggle, leaning into his touch when he cups your cheek. He takes out one of the wipes.

“Well, I smoked a little weed and then I watched Chrissy and Robin being all flirty with each other.”

“What’s new?” He laughs as he begins to remove your makeup.

You sigh at the feeling, loving how gentle he is.

“And then I was just by myself cause I didn’t want to talk to anyone.”

“No?”

You shake your head, watching him. You eye his hair, the curls that never seem to look bad, you stare at his soft skin, at the beautiful brown eyes that always give you so much comfort, the ones you could stare into forever. Your eyes flicker down to his lips and for a moment, you let them linger, letting your mind go to places that Robin tried to keep you away from. You look at his nose and wonder how it can still look so perfect after all the fights he had been in.

Eddie is so beautiful.

Your eyes move down to his neck, to the chain hanging around it, to the tattoo that peeks out from underneath his shirt before your eyes move back to his, you watch the way he stares at your lips, you feel the way your heart races in your chest.

“Eddie?” You whisper.

His eyes meet yours.

Unbeknownst to you, his heart is racing like crazy.

“Yes?”

You look down at his lips again and suddenly, you feel the urge to feel them on yours.

“You’re really pretty.”

His eyes widen, he freezes, halting his movements but still cupping your cheek. His cheeks heat up.

“Thank you,” he whispers, blushing.

“And so sweet, you’re always so good to me.”

“You deserve it, y/n,” he whispers. He tries to hide his nervousness behind a smile.

You don’t say anything else after this. You just keep smiling at him, staring at him the way you did before as he continues to carefully take your makeup off. But, something shifts in your eyes and something puts a shadow over the happiness in your eyes, your smile begins to fade the longer you spend too much time in your thoughts.

Eddie knows exactly what or who you are thinking about at this moment and it makes his heart sink a little.

You might find your way to him late at night.

But Steve will always be the one that lingers.

At least, that’s what Eddie believes.

But then, you say something that might change everything forever.

“I wish I met you first, Eddie.”

next chapter

only tagging friends and mutuals

@taintedcigs @hellfire--cult @littledemondani @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @succubusmunson @trashmouth-richie @xxhellfirebunnyxx @nemesis729 @take-everything-you-can @sherrylyn628 @somethingvicked @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @chrissymjstan

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff

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natsvenom · 4 months

Text

Angel

Jason DiLaurentis x fem!reader

SUMMARY: You’ve spent the past few days being distant with your boyfriend, Jason, after you and the liars are go to a coffee shop in town and run into his ex-girlfriend Cece Drake.

WARNINGS! Age gap, slight angst, alcohol ingestion, reader has an eating disorder (anorexia), body shaming, etc.

You and the liars walk into the Apple Rose Grill. Everything was stressful, per usual. Garrett had been let off the hook for murder and now Wilden was trying to make Hanna look guilty. There was currently a court order out for them to take a sample for Hanna’s blood. That would’ve been fine, knowing Hanna isn’t guilty. Except A has a way of making an innocent person a guilty one.

“Take it from me, you’re always better off with a really good lie.” A feminie voice said from behind you guys. You physically felt your heart stop in your chest. The voice was insanely similar to Alison’s.

“Is it just me or did that sound a lot like…” Emily mumbled. Younturned around to see a blonde girl standing at the register. There was no way that could be her, right?

“…Alison.” You guys said in unison.

The girl turned around with a smile on her face, but it quickly faded as she saw you guys staring at her like she was ancient relic, “Something wrong?” She asked.

“Oh, no, sorry.” Aria apologized, “You just sound a lot like one of our friends.”

“Hope she’s brilliant.” The girl said, “What’s her name?”

“Alison DiLaurentis.” You told her, staring at her like she was a lost dog.

She looked at you guys in realization, “You were friends of Ali’s.” She says, “Me too, I’m Cece.” You had heard that name before, you just weren’t exactly sure where from.

“Spencer.” Spencer spoke, greeting herself.

“Melissa Hastings little sister.” Cece noted, “Ali talked about you. She talked about all of you. A lot.”

“How do you know Ali?” You dared to ask.

“Before I moved to L.A our families rented summer homes in Cape May. We went through an intense couple weeks together. I dated her brother, Jason. She never mentioned me to you guys?” Cece explained. You suddenly felt tense hearing the mention of Jason. You could only imagine what she meant by an intense couple of weeks. But there was no need for you to be jealous, right? Jason was with you not her. But in the moment you couldn’t help but notice how incredibly gorgeous Cece Drake was. She had beatiful blonde hair, blue eyes, easily a size 4, and not to mention her confident outgoing personality. She was everything you weren’t.

For some reason this realization made you sick to your stomach. She looked perfectly healthy, while the reason you had looked the way you did was from practically making yourself sick. Almost your whole life you had been worried about your appearance; making sure you never ate more than 1000 calories a day, over exerrting yourself, and excercising till you felt your body break down.

You knew you were destroying yourself, but you wanted to be pretty. You wanted to be like the girls at your school who all the boys fawned over. You wanted to be the girl who was always picked first for group projects. You wanted to be the girl who wasn’t afraid to wear a crop top in public. You wanted to be like Alison, beautiful and destructive.

Alison had told you something that’s always stuck with you, “You’re pretty, but sweetie you need to drop a few pounds.” When she was alive you easily weighed 130 pounds. By the time your family moved back to Rosewood, you weighed 100, and now you weigh 110. everyone had noticed the dramtic changes over the years. Your family had done nothing but worry about you, the boys at school would whistle at you and make inappropriate remarks, Hanna was someone who you could relate to, and Jason was someone you could rely on.

Before you guys started dating, he found out about your eating disorder. At the time you and the other liars were still questioning if he was A, but after he had helped you get better you never once thought about him being A again, and dismissed the girls when every they tried to convince you he was just being friendly to get information. Luckily, things were different now.

You wondered why Jason had never brought up Cece Drake before. You silently wondered if there was any part of him that still thought about her. I mean she’s gorgeous, who wouldn’t be thinking about her.

You had been zoned out for so long you hadn’t even been paying attention to their conversation until you saw her about to leave, but she stopped in her tracks, “Do any of you girls know if Jason is seeing anyone? I hear he looks really good now-a-days.” Cece asked.

The rest of the girls looked at you subtly before turning back to Cece, “No clue.” Spencer said quickly, shrugging her shoulders. Cece nodded her head.

“Well if you see him tell him I say hi.” She said in flirtatious tone, making your skin crawl.

It had been two days since you last spoke to Jason. You spent the last couple of days worrying about your body, spiraling back into that same old self concious loop you had been so familiar with. He was starting to get worried about you. He had absolutely no idea what was going on with you.

You sigh, sitting in the driver’s seat of your car. You know you shouldn’t do this, but you really needed something to take your mind off Cece Drake.

Jason sighed as he sat down on the front porch of his house. He had absolutely no explanation for what was goingon and it was driving him crazy. He turned his head when he heard footsteps walking up to him. He had hoped it would be you, but was met with slight disappointment when he saw someone else.

“Hey.” Spencer greeted softly, walking up the porch to sit by her brother. He simply nodded at her, looking down at the cement floor, which suddenly became very interesting.

“I met Cece Drake this morning.” Spencer revealed. Jason looked up, a confused expression on his face. He hadn’t heard that name in so long, nor thought of it. Spencer could see the gears turning in his head.

“What?” She questioned.

“Was y/n with you?” He asked, looking at her desperately for answers.

“Yeah, why?” It suddenly clicked in his head what was going on with you. You weren’t ignoring him because you were mad at him. You were ignoring him because of something she had said.

You sat on a hard red stool at the bar, thanking Alison internally for getting you a fake id. All you had to do was flash it to the bartender and he came back with exactly what you thought you needed. Alcohol.

You had only drank a little bit, but you were already starting to feel tipsy. You were clearly a light weight, and almost everyone knew it.

“What’s a pretty girl like yourself doing here all alone?” A masculine voice asked from beside you. You turned your head to see a man sitting next to you, a glass of something that was defintely stronger than what you were drinking.

“I’m wondering the same thing myself.” You heard another voice say from behind you. You didn’t have to think twice about it to know who it was. You spun yourself around in the stool and were met with his warm green eyes. You groaned dramatically, pushing youself off the stool. You forgot that the stool was hightened, and practically fell right into Jason’s arms.

His arms wrapped around you quickly, pulling you back up straight. Well, straight as you could get in that moment, “I’m taking you home.” He said strictly, making you giggle. It wasn’t really funny, but right now everything seemed comical to you. You pushed past him walking out of the bar. You felt the cold night air hit your face. It felt good at first, but then it made you feel sick. You threw up into the bushes right outside the bar, right before warm hands pulled your hair back for you.

“I don’t feel good.” You mumbled, wiping your mouth off.

“Mm, I wonder why.” Jason quipped, rubbing your back as an attempt to soothe you. You groaned, shoving your head into his chest. He put one of his hands in your hair, rubbing your head comfortably.

“You smell good.” You mumbled into his chest, making let out a breathy laugh, “Can we make out now?” You asked, pulling him down by his jacket. He kissed the top of your head.

“Not right now pretty girl.” He said softly. You groaned, the annoyance making you roll your eyes. You pushed away from him, walking through the parking lot, Jason following closely behind you.

You stopped in the middle of the parking lot, looking at a group of trees intensly, “Hey, who put those there?” You wondered, observing the trees like they were the most interesting thing in the world. Jason came up behind you, shrugging his jacket off and putting it over your shoulders. He didn’t say anything, knowing that explaining the process of the life cycle of a tree to a drunk person would just end up with and endless amount of stupid questions.

“I think you should take a nap and then google it in the morning.” He said, intertwining his hand with yours as he walked you to the car, opening the door for you and helping you get in. The car ride home was relatively quite, but it wasn’t uncomfortable silence, it was nice.

When you got to the DiLaurentis house, Jason’s hands stayed on your waist as he guided you up the stairs. You plopped down on his bed as he pulled something out of his closet for you to wear. He helped you unzip your little black dress and pulled his hoodie over your head. You yawned as you threw yourself back onto his bed. He sat down next you, pulling the covers over you and placing a gentle kiss on your head.

“She’s pretty.” You mumbled into the cold pillow, grasping it in your hands. Jason sighed, knowing this conversation would end up happening one way or another.

“Whose the girl that I let sleep in my bed everyday and steal every single clothing item I own?” He teased, making you smile into the pillow. You knew he was right.

“But—”

“But nothing. I love you, and only you.” He assured, pulling you into him as he wrapped his arms around you tightly. You cuddled into his chest, grasping his shirt in your hands.

“I love you too, Jase.” You yawned.

“I know angel.”

#jason dilaurentis #jason dilaurentis x reader #pll #pretty little liars #imagine #spencer hastings #light angst #aria montgomery #hanna marin #emily fields #alison dilaurentis #cece drake

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bonesandchalamet · 9 months

Text

one room, one us - k.connor

masterlist

requested: y- “I almost immediately want to put forward the “only one hotel room left and it’s only got one bed” trope for a Kit Connor request 🫢 friends to lovers of course 🫡”

pairing: kit connor x reader — please message me if I used any pronouns of she/her this is supposed to be gender neutral!

warnings: one room trope + mentions of making out (purely innocent kissing)

a/n: loved this request hope I did it justice xx

“I could’ve sworn it had two beds.” he stammers over his words, a light nervous chuckle falls off his lips. as you turn to face him, you see he’s as red as a lobster, embarrassed for his mistake on the booking error, “I swear. y/n, im sorry.”

“kit,” you warn him giving a pointed look that he knows too well. he shouldn’t be apologizing considering you’re long time friends, but he is. sharing a bed was like crossing a line in his book, and he wasn’t quite sure your friendship was at that level of mattress sharing and blanket tugging.

“don’t apologize, I’m sure I can find another room—“

“you can’t. the place is sold out, and I’d offer my bed, but I promised tobbie he could share with me.” joe peaks his head in from the conjoining room, tobbie’s head appears atop of his with a simple frown for your sorrows, but truth be told, you couldn’t be too mad about sharing a bed with kit. he’s a dear friend for Christ sakes not a stranger with a filthy disease.

“honestly, it’s okay. we can make due right? just build a wall of pillows! it’ll be all good.” you offer your best smile to three boys who nod in agreement with your words. it’ll all be fine. except will it? you’ve never passed sharing a blanket or a bag of chips on the sofa, this could really change things— or maybe you’re just classically overthinking that this could ruin or change the course of your friendship.

—

“so I like to sleep on that side.” kit nudges his head to the right. the side that’s closest to the clock and the charging outlets, it’s also currently the place you’re snuggled under the sheets in.

“well I got here first.” you poke at your tongue, but gladly move along per his request and allow your phone to stay on the nightstand leaving you two with nothing but a conversation.

“even joe knows I like this side.”

“well excuse me for missing this course in friendship, but you’ve never told me you’ve had a preference to sides.” you pull the comforter up close to your chin and settle in against the mattress once again, finding comfort after a long day.

travel and tourism of a new place had taken it out on you, kit, joe and tobbie so much so that your evening plans of late dinner and drinks had turned into laying in bed to order room service. exhaustion was just only an understatement of what you felt.

“you tired?” he whispers, the words hang in the air almost he didn’t say them. it takes you a whole minute to register he’s waiting for a response, and by the time you open one eye, he’s found himself cuddled up with one of the pillows that’s being used as a barrier.

“hey,” you flip over onto your side, his thick light blond eyelashes flicker up, his beautiful eyes staring into yours. you can feel your heart stop, your breath goes right in your throat as you try to remember the words you were going to say.

“do you think you can turn off the lights?” he mutters mimicking your position as well, comforter pulled up to under his chin with pleading puppy dog eyes, “I can’t reach it.”

you let out a breathy chuckle watching his eyes close again, “it’s on your preferred side.” you say poking his side earning a grimace from him.

he juts out his lower lip, opening his eyes again, he gives you his best sad puppy dog look that’s so convincing you reach over his body and flip off the light, “there you go your highness.”

“hey!” he gasps, sitting upright. you can’t see his eyes, but you’re sure they are about a centimeter away from popping out of their sockets. you can only make out so much of him, but what you do notice is he’s completely shirtless. an image your brain clearly must’ve ignored in the first place, but now can’t seem to erase it.

“I’m nothing but high maintenance.”

an innocent unconscious laughter escapes your lips as you can recall the times when kit might of been a bit more on the needier side of things, but you cover your lips with an invisible zipper making his playful anger grow.

“no! tell me this instant!” he gently presses a slight shove against your arms and discards one of the pillows used as a barrier. he moves closer to you resting his head against your shoulder, “if you don’t tell me I’ll just fall asleep right here.”

“I wouldn’t mind that.” the words fall out of your mouth before you can stop them, saliva fills your throat as you become to realize what you’ve just put in the air for him to settle with. maybe it was stupid, maybe it was wrong, but your feelings for kit were nothing but pure and right.

you could always feel his attraction towards you, and tonight, with only one bed and one hotel room left, it felt like someone was pulling you two together. someone or something was trying to push you two off the edge and into something more.

“what if I did this,” he sits up, index finger gently grazes your chin as he pulls your face towards him. time feels slow in this moment, his face inching closer your heart begging to jump out of your throat, its not until his lips are on yours when time seems to finally catch up.

his lips were like heaven. soft enough to melt you into his arms, and warm enough to send a heat wave through your body as you slide your tongue into his mouth.

he pulls away, a small gasp exiting his lips catching his breath, “so you don’t mind that?” he asks, a growing concern reaches his face that you can’t see, but your lips on his sends him the right message.

“look who’s high maintenance now,” he says in between kisses, a chuckle escapes his lips as you grab a fist full of his hair and pull his lips back onto yours.

“I’m only high maintenance with and for you, connor. it took you too long to kiss me.”

he throws his head back laughing as he collapses against the mattress, “just kiss me again, y/n.”

#kit connor x reader #kit connor imagine #kit connor #kit connor x y/n #kit connor x oc #kit connor fic #kit connor fanfic #heartstopper #heartstopper x reader #heartstopper fanfic #heartstopper x y/n #heartstopper fic #heartstopper imagine #nick nelson

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surftrips · 2 years

Text

who's the guy?

pairing: jj maybank x reader (ft. the pogues!)

summary: the pogues find out y/n is seeing a new guy, and will not stop until they find out who he is.

word count: 846

a/n: just a short fluff piece! <3

"Soooo, what's his name?" Sarah asked, leaning towards you and batting her eyelashes.

"Whose name?" JJ had just joined you and the rest of the Pogues in John B.'s living room.

"Apparently, there is a mystery man in Y/N's life and she won't give him up!" Kie explained.

"Oh, is that so? I hope he knows how to fight," JJ said, looking at you with a glint in his eye.

"Hey! No one is fighting anyone!" you responded, actively trying not to blush at his comment.

"Okay, but we need to know if he's good enough for our Y/N. What does he look like?" Kie pressed you for answers.

You sighed, "He's tall, has blonde hair, he's super smart, like Pope level-"

John B. interrupted you, "You being for real? No one is smarter than Pope."

"If you hadn't interrupted me, you would've heard me say that he is as smart as Pope, I didn't say smarter," you replied matter-of-factly.

Sarah giggled, "Ignore him. What else can you tell us!!"

Honestly, you didn't want to give too much away. As much as you loved the Pogues, you also enjoyed the thrill that came with having a secret relationship. Plus, there was no pressure to make appearances or act a certain way in public. You two could just be yourselves.

However, this conversation was a whole lot of fun, and you and him had figured it was about time to reveal your secret soon anyway.

"Well, let's see..." You tapped your index finger on your chin as you contemplated what to reveal next. "He likes to go surfing and on fishing trips."

"Okay, so literally any other Pogue on the island?" Pope joked.

"Oh, yeah, he's a Pogue if I've ever seen one," you chuckled.

The room was silent for a second while everyone tried to figure out who it was you had been sneaking off to see for the past few weeks.

"Ugh, I don't know," Kie groaned. "You're positive we've met this guy before?"

"Yes. 100%." It took everything in you not to erupt into a fit of laughter right then and there.

"Alright, but on a scale of 1 to 10 how handsome would you say he is?" JJ asked.

John B. nudged his friend in the arm, "JJ, how is that going to help us?"

"Because! I'm clearly a solid 10, and John B., you're like a seven, so we can use that to compare!" JJ barely finished his sentence before JB was throwing his pillow at him.

"Chill, dude! I was joking... kinda!" JJ said in-between the thumps of the pillow hitting his body.

"If you must know, I think he's a ten," you said with a smile, causing John B. to halt his assault on JJ.

Surprisingly, no one caught on to the very obvious hint in front of their faces.

"I seriously can't think of anyone on this island that's a ten," Kie said. You made the mistake of giggling at the thought of her reaction when she would finally find out who it was you were describing.

"What are you laughing at?" she chuckled nervously.

"Oh, nothing. Just how stupid you're gonna feel when I tell you," you answered.

"Are you ever gonna tell us?" Sarah sighed, on the edge of defeat.

"You know what, I don't think I ever will," you said jokingly.

Immediately the room filled with groans and complaints of "Come on!" and "Just say it, we won't judge!" from everyone. Everyone except JJ.

"Dude, you don't wanna know who this guy is?" Pope was asking him.

"I... kinda have a feeling who it is already," he winked at you.

This next hint did not go unnoticed by the rest of the Pogues.

Again, the room erupted with the sounds of your best friends, but this time with confusion and surprise.

"WAIT WHAT??"

"Are you kidding right now?"

"You're sleeping with JJ???"

JJ wrapped his arms around your waist as he came up behind you. "Hey! Watch how you speak about her boyfriend!"

You couldn't help but giggle like a little girl with a crush, because that's exactly how he made you feel.

"You're right, Y/N, I do feel so incredibly stupid right now. It was right in front of our faces this entire time!" Kie exclaimed.

"Yeah- all of those times I 'stayed at home' or left to check on Y/N were just excuses to see each other," JJ explained.

You wish you could've captured the faces of your friends as they reacted to this news. It was priceless.

"Wait- there's one thing I don't get though. Didn't you say he was as smart as Pope....?" John B. asked, both confused and amused.

"Yeah... haha about that... I only said it as a joke to throw y'all off," you admitted.

"What?? So you don't think I'm as smart as Pope?" JJ said to you, acting, or actually offended, you couldn't tell.

"Babe, I said you were a solid ten. I think that should be enough for your ego today."

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj x reader #jj maybank imagine #obx #outer banks #obx x reader #obx imagine #rudy pankow #rudy pankow x reader #jj maybank x you

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radiantmists · 11 months

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this has haunted me since the first time i watched the movie.

[ID: two clips from Nimona. In the first, from the knighting ceremony, Ambrosius turns to Ballister with a wink and says, "Here comes the woo." Then he walks forward, calls "Woo!" and the crowd echoes him. The video cuts to a scene from the flashback, where Gloreth throws a rock into a bucket, then gives herself a little "Woo!" of celebration. Nimona watches from the forest. End ID]

when we first see ambrosius do this, he's just the golden boy jock hyping up a crowd; fine, whatever.

the second time, it's with this little smirking comment to ballister and we realize that its part of his Brand, but we've also seen him constantly joking with and gently ribbing ballister to cheer him up so it feels like a sincere part of his Brand, him sharing his excitement because he knows it makes other people smile. it's self-aware but still feels genuine, like ambrosius is just this class-clown sort of person who likes acting a little silly to make people happy.

and then we get ambrosius cutting his boyfriend's arm off because he was trained to, hunting his best friend down because he's expected to. we see how he hides his mental anguish from the people around him, even the director who he seems to genuinely care about and who's offering to listen. we get him trying to arrest bal, really believinh he's a killer, at least in part because bal's consorting with a monster and ambrosius knows what he's supposed to think about monsters. we see him latch on to the first explanation he's told for the director's confession, because it means she's good and bal's good but misguided and the monster's evil, just like it's supposed to be.

and then we see gloreth do the woo, and it's nothing like when ambrosius does it-- she thinks she's entirely alone, she's just cheering for herself out of pure and childlike joy, because she is a child and she's having fun.

but think about how this little mannerism has to have been carried into gloreth's adulthood, how people must have latched onto it so that it got passed down through generations. how it's not only self-aware on ambrosius' part but a deliberate part of his image as the direct descendent of gloreth.

except that infectious cheerfulness is also how he acts with ballister in private, and the people-pleasing is so ingrained that he pauses a manhunt to sign autographs. he needs his boyfriend to tell people about his allergies. he always smells of lavender and he bleaches his hair blond.

and some of these aren't bad things! but it begs the question, how much of who ambrosius is-- not just how he presents, but his whole identity-- was constructed to fit the perfect golden boy image?

and how sad is it that the kingdom and its forces of tradition and conformity managed to twist even this little, kinda dorky expression of joy into something obligatory?

#nimona #nimona netflix #nimona movie #ambrosius goldenloin #gloreth #also i didn't include it bc i had an Artistic Vision #but the next shot of the first scene is bal looking at ambrosius all lovestruck from the lower lit area #exactly like nimona in the second clip #holy cinematic parallels batman #nimona spoilers

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raisedbythetv89 · 1 month

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The writers I think mostly completely by accident with the assistance of James charming his way into becoming a main character created the perfect storm to ensure people who love spike would reach absolute peak levels of being completely obsessively deranged about him forever

Season 2:

He’s a punk rock villain with killer cheekbones, enchanting eyes, and an absolutely DEVILISH smile - who’s an incredibly dedicated and dangerous fighter who specifically seeks out challenging fights he’s not guaranteed to win (brave and reckless - normally traits seen in heroes) hates everyone except his mentally ill physically sick wife (the statistics of men who leave their wives when they get sick in the US is horrifying like nurses literally have to warn married women who get sick it happens so often) who he’s hopelessly devoted to and unbelievably soft with and always listens to her while also exuding a psychotic amount of sex appeal and is just F U N he loves being a vampire and he loves fighting and it makes it so much fun for the audience. While still showing how much he respects and admires his enemy for her skill, strength, resourcefulness, and intelligence - NEVER underestimating her just because she’s a tiny blonde girl - and instead of destroying the world for love he SAVES the world for love - a villain doing good to get the love of his life back who essentially dumped him for her ex????????? D E V O T E D and shockingly extremely trustworthy??? And has amazing chemistry with our heroine and is there for a pivotal moment in her life and is the only one there for her when she has no one else????? *enemies to lovers girlies ENTER THE CHAT*

Season 3:

He shows he fucking MEANS IT when he says Dru is the love of his life when he shows up in Sunnydale because he blames Angel not Buffy or Drusilla but the man actually responsible for all their problems and he is the most pathetic mess we’ve ever SEEN!!!! He’s crying and drunk all the time and he’s so sad he goes to Buffy’s mom TO TALK 💀😭 our pathetic sensitive little self admitted lover boy who KNOWS he’s love’s bitch and he won’t be pretending he’s anything otherwise who shows how clearly he sees and understands other people and the depths of his emotional intelligence so much so Buffy herself admits she can’t fool Spike she can fool her friends BUT NOT SPIKE OR HERSELF EXCUSE ME MA’AM WHAT???????

AND Spike doesn’t just uselessly MOPE forever he gets some perspective and is like I know what I’m gonna do to her back and I’m gonna go do that now! 😁👍🏻 showing he never stays down for long and is always gonna get back up to keep fighting for his love while BOTH he and Buffy still honor the truce even though he’s broken it by coming back??? While Buffy’s all “I violently dislike you” YEAH OK GIRL WHATEVER YOU SAY *enemies to lovers girlies chomping at the bit intensifies*

Season 4:

CLEARLY heartbroken about Drusilla (DEVOTED!!!) but it’s turned into anger and resentment directed at Harmony who how bizarre looks nothing like Drusilla but A LOT like Buffy…… hmmmmmmmmmmmmm HOW INTERESTING *enemies to lovers girlies are vibrating with anticipation that turns into a full blown combustion when something blue happens*

Spike doesn’t pretend to love Harmony in order to get what he wants from her (shown in direct contrast to Parker) he’s ironically very honest despite being a villain - he’s showing he’s STILL loyal to Drusilla in ONLY loving her even after she’s dumped him... again!

We see Spike treat Buffy the EXACT same way he treated Drusilla during something blue reaffirming THIS IS HOW THIS MAN LOVES WHEN HE LOVES YOU. He’s extremely affectionate, helpful, protective, caring - D E V O T E D - and is truly just the most certified lover boy we’ve ever fucking seen

Season 5:

SURPRISE HE’S SECRETLY A LOVESICK MAMA’S BOY POET AT HEART UNDERNEATH THE BAD BOY PERSONA AND A PROTECTIVE BIG BROTHER AND NOW BUFFY AND HER FAMILY’S MOST LOYAL DEFENDER AND IS WILLING TO DIE NOT JUST FOR BUFFY BUT FOR ALL THE SUMMERS WOMEN AND HE KNOWS AND SEES BUFFY SO DEEPLY AND INTIMATELY AND CAN HOLD SPACE FOR HER PAIN LIKE NO ON ELSE CAN AND SHOWS THE DEVOTION THAT ONCE BELONGED TO DRUSILLA NOW BELONGS TO BUFFY AND IT IS GOING NOWHERE EVEN WHEN SHE DIES AND WE'VE SEEN IN HIM CRY BEFORE BUT NEVER HAVE WE SEEN HIM BREAK DOWN LIKE HE DOES AT THE SIGHT OF BUFFY'S BODY!!!!!!!!!!!

*all of us screaming, crying, throwing up, climbing the walls and generally just losing our minds*

Season 6:

No soul, his love is so great for Buffy as is his loyalty and devotion to her, he now helps all of his dead love’s friends fight evil and is raising her sister and dreams of saving her every night for 148 nights 🤚🏻😭 don’t even fucking talk to me I can’t take it

Forgive the absolute 180 in tone change here:

Dick game is FIRE - his touch is the only thing that makes Buffy feel alive AND SHE WAS IN HEAVEN BRO SHE KNOWS WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO BE IN HEAVEN AND SPIKE IS THE ONLY THING KEEPING HER GOING like damn girl yes YOU FUCK THAT HOUSE DOWN!!! Also he is now just naked 50% of the time just to drive us all even FURTHER out of our minds and somehow has just gotten even hotter as the seasons have gone on like this is what’s been hiding under the leather jacket all this time! Enjoy!

And THE MOST unintended consequence of jw’s vindictive writing:

SPITE

He clearly didn’t want us to love Spike and tried to manipulate us into hating him in such a blatant and clumsy ooc attempt all that did was weed out the weakest amongst the Spuffy/Spike fans until all that remained were us:

The most devoted and stubborn fans who REFUSED to have the thing they loved ruined or taken away from us and were smart enough to see through his bullshit manipulation attempt in the first place.

Genuinely they created the equivalent of supersoilder strength level fans with this absolutely lethal combination of events 💀

AND THEN as if all that wasn't enough he goes and gets his soul on purpose for Buffy so he can be the man she deserves and she can love him without hating herself for loving him despite the immense pain it will cause him which is the most selfless thing we have ever seen anyone do for Buffy only to be topped when he sacrifices himself to destroy the hellmouth, save the world and free her from Sunnydale!!! Plus ya know once he gets the soul even though he did it for her he never tries to use that as leverage to get anything from her like he truly expects nothing from her at all but still wants to help her and James delivers the most devastating performances we've ever fucking seen, finally tells her friends off which has needed to happen for 5 seasons, the "you're the one speech" him being a dad to all the potentials with Buffy giving us supernatural parent core who made it through their rough patch with their first kid in season 6 with Dawn and now are just the beautiful team with their found family and Buffy finally has someone who can truly carry her burdens with her and just all the tenderness and devotion they both deserve after so many years of pain and fighting. Basically giving the audience the message that even if you have a metric ton of pain and trauma there are people out there who see you and understand you and there is a chance for you to heal both together and separately to build your own version of a more normal and stable life. It's a message of such hope and I personally know several people, including myself who watched what Spike and Buffy have and it inspired us to look at the relationships we were in and realize we deserved SO MUCH MORE than what we were getting and in my case it turned out I was being emotionally abused and manipulated that entire time!! Much like Buffy was by both Riley and Angel. So it isn't an exaggeration to say Spuffy saved my life in a lot of ways both in being there for me at such a dark time and helping me draw a map of how to get out. Not to mention loving them in fandom spaces has helped me connect with so many people just like me who share very similar experiences and have helped me feel so much less alone and has helped me heal in so many ways 🖤

Spuffies get "hOw cAn yOu liKe sPiKe aFtEr wHaT hE dId" all the fucking time and truly the better question is how can you NOT like Spike???? HAVE YOU BEEN PAYING ATTENTION AT ALL??? DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT GOOD RELATIONSHIPS NEED TO WORK?? BECAUSE AT THEIR CORE SPUFFY HAS THEM ALL!

It's jw writing so NOTHING will escape his toxic bullshit but Spike - because he was hated by jw for so long - so much of the time when he tried to make Spike less popular he just kept making him better and more complex and more and more targeted to the female gaze which is exactly why he snapped and made the choices he literally forced everyone else to go along with despite their protests with that scene to make it the most traumatizing scene in all of Buffy history not just for the audience but for the actors as well because yes it is incredibly horrific and upsetting to watch (which is why I skip it on rewatches) but I still am able to see if for what it is which is a narcissist lashing out at people he hates because he hasn't been able to control them and too bad for him I refuse to be manipulated by his bullshit so it failed completely and made so many of us that much more stubbornly protective of Spike and his and Buffy's relationship not just from other fans but from the creator himself 🙃🖕🏻like he basically just trauma bonded us to Spike and Buffy which has led to the creation of one of the most devoted, loyal, intelligent fanbases who is absolutely unhinged (affectionate) with their love of this character and his relationship which is why we are all still creating and writing about this character 25 year later and show absolutely zero signs of slowing down or stopping 💀

#spuffy #spike btvs #meta #btvs meta #spike and buffy meta #spike btvs meta #spuffy meta #also every spuffy I know shares so much life experiences and personality traits with buffy herself like we are often making choices #and judgements about the narrative from the perspective of buffy herself & we’re all picking spike #so many people who pick other love interests truly so often rarely see buffy for who she is either #if you don’t get spuffy you don’t truly understand buffy herself

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rebelliousstories · 17 days

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Did You Know?

Relationship: Spencer Reid x Reader

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Request: No

Warnings: Angst, Light Fluff, Allusions to Pregnancy

Word Count: 1,083

Main Masterlist: Here

Criminal Minds Masterlist: Here

Part Two: I Know Now// Part Three: Somebody Knows// Part Four: What We Know

Summary: Spencer is sent to prison and is waiting on his team to get him out. Meanwhile, his partner is there for morale support.

“It is good to love many things, for therein lies the true strength, and whosoever loves much preforms much, and can accomplish much, and what is done in love is well done.” Vincent Van Gogh

Never in a million years did she think she would be in this position. Getting a call from Emily in the middle of the night was not what she expected. But to be told that her husband is currently in federal custody and awaiting trial, that was another. But she took it as it came. There was nothing she could do for her husband except just to be there for him. She would never be able to get the image of him in handcuffs in the BAU out of her head, but she was glad she was able to hug him.

“Spence. Oh my Spence.” She hugged him over the handcuffs that were hidden with the jacket. His fingertips were just barely able to grasp on to her shirt to pull her as close as physically possible.

“Hey honey. I’m sorry you have to see me like this. How’s my mom?” He whispered into her ear. Spencer was thankful that everyone decided to keep a healthy distance as the husband and wife reunited.

“She’s good. Wondering when you’re coming home, but I am helping Cassie take care of her. I don’t care about seeing you handcuffed, sweetheart. I’m just glad I can see you and hold you.” Her reply made Spencer want to cry. He knew it was not fair to her to have to deal with this whole situation. Stepping back, she pressed a sweet kiss to his lips and tried to convey all of the lover she felt into that kiss. Pulling away completely, she watched as he accepted embraces from his teammates.

If only they knew at the time, how much of a roller coaster this was going to be. She sat on the prison bus waiting to be taken to the facility. Being able to see her husband was wonderful, except for the fact that she would be sitting across from him in a cubicle, with a sheet of glass separating them. The bus ride was bumpy, but thankfully it was over quick. Stepping off, her hair was swept away in the windy weather outside.

Walking inside the correctional facility, her eyes kept scanning the room, looking for any threats. A side effect from working for the FBI all those years ago. Now, it only served as a reminder of where she had once been, and of how her husband became that title. She walked up to the reception desk and placed her id down.

“Inmate name?” The officer asked. Her voice was devoid of any emotion.

“Spencer Reid. I’m his wife.” She supplied her name, and waited as the officer scanned a list and then her ID again.

“You’re not on the list. Next!” The officer yelled, pushing the woman off to the side. She stood there dumbfounded as she was handed back her ID, but knew better than to fight with the officer. Her body, especially her heart felt numb as she walked outside and waited for the bus to take her back to the car lot. Why was she denied access to see her husband? JJ was able to see him; so why was she not?

After the numbness wore off, rage fueled her. It kept her going all the way to the FBI headquarters where she signed in for a visitor’s pass silently. Marching her way into the BAU’s office on the sixth floor, she noticed how everyone was still there thankfully. She made her way over to JJ, who was surrounded by Tara, Matt, and Stephen.

“Hey,” JJ greeted, ”how are you doing?”

“Don’t give me that.” She snapped, leaving the agents in a state of shock. Never had she ever snapped, not even raised her voice.

“Whoa, what is going on?” The blonde woman asked, holding her hands up in surrender.

“Did you know?” Mrs. Reid growled, with her patience wearing thin.

“Did I know what? You’re not making any sense.” JJ tried to reason and de escalate the situation, but Emily and David were already out of their offices and looking out at the bullpen.

“Did you know when you went to visit Spence that he had put me on the ‘no visit’ list?” There it was. The million dollar question. JJ remained silent for a minute, but her face did the talking before her words caught up.

“Listen, you have to understand his reasons.” She tried to reach for the woman, but she slipped out of the way.

“You knew? And you didn’t tell me? I just got back from there, hoping to see my husband and check in on him. Only to be turned away at the gate. And you never told me?” Now, she was yelling. It was scary to see the former profiler turned professor yell. She spoke sternly sometimes sure, but she never raised her voice in anger.

“He wants to protect you from the inside. Spence asked us not to tell.” A slip of the tongue and now her fury was leveled to everyone.

“You all knew?” Prentiss and Rossi made their way down the stairs by this point.

“Yes, we did.” The dark haired agent said, walking along with her right hand man.

“Spencer doesn’t want you to see him like that so he asked if we would not tell you that he had put you on that list.” Emily placed her hand on the woman, and it was like her strings were cut. Rage left and was followed by intense depression. Sobs wracked her body as she crumpled to the floor. Emily tried to grab her, but Luke was the one that actually got his arms around her.

There was nothing left for her now. Everything came crashing down around her; her world was shattered. She thought about every interaction that she had ever had with Spencer. There were probably some that she was missing, but she was not blessed with his memory skills. But every major moment came to her at that time. The first time they met, their first date, when he introduced her to his mom, their proposal and wedding. Rubbing her stomach, she wondered when she would wake from this nightmare and be safe in her husband’s arms once again.

Zsa Zsa Gabor said, “To be loved is a strength. To love is a weakness.”

#rebelliousstories #writing #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #emily prentiss #david rossi #jennifer jereau #tara lewis #stephen walker #penelope garcia #luke alvez

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 8 months

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A Perfect Score - Chapter 8 - The Fallout | FigureSkating!AU

Summary: You wait for whatever secrets Larys might have, but they say things get worse before they get better. Right? | Word Count: 8k~ | Warnings under the cut~

Series Masterlist | Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist

Warnings: angst 💀, smut straight out the gate, semi-public(?) sex, degradation, praise, aemond being a sexual menace, dirty talk, p in v unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), creampie, mentions of emotionally abusive relationships (both platonic and romantic), mentions of injury resulting in loss of sight, lots of swearing, feelings of inadequacy

A/N: oh lord here we go

It had been a week since you’d last heard from Larys, and the anticipation of what he would return with had your palms sweating as you double tapped your phone screen, seeing if any notifications were there to greet you.

Nothing.

Your heart raced with worry, and it was difficult to not show it around Aemond, now that the both of you were attached at the hip. Every quiet moment, Aemond would try and squeeze in some kind of gesture before inevitably his family would walk in. But as the days went on, instead of biting his lip, putting distance between you and his cheeks blossoming being seen romantically with you, he lingered, making it clear to whoever chose to disturb either of you that he didn’t care if they saw.

He was slowly beginning to care less about that, focussing said care on something else.

As proven by your time together on the tour, Aemond was insatiable.

You honestly don’t know how his dick hasn’t fallen off yet, or that he’s not on some kind of blood pressure medication, by the way he enjoys fucking you into oblivion any spare, quiet moment he gets. Not that it’s something to necessarily complain about. But the more time passed, the more your nerves began to spike, wanting to desperately have him define what was going on here.

Helaena seemed to give the impression this was strange behaviour for him. With the exception of the person Hel so lovingly called ‘that fucking dinosaur’, Aemond’s conquests had been just that. Casual. No strings attached. Sometimes not even necessarily because it had to be, but because he’d shut it down before it went any further.

You didn’t ask Aemond about that.

Even Alicent had mentioned as such, that she’d never seen her son so happy and content.

So why was there this sicky feeling in your stomach?

It was still so early in the morning that it was dark, the faintest of dark blue in the sky to remind you that the sun was just about to come up. And here you were, not in bed, not snuggled in bed sheets. But skates on, all limbered up and ready to practise.

In lieu of Aemond, you shoved your headphones in and leant against the ledge on your forearms, idly hovering on the ice, scrolling through the various news articles.

Martells: Trouble in Paradise? Qoren in trouble after leaving Sunspear Strip Club with blonde stranger Aemond Targaryen and his muse. He fell first but she fell harder, our source says. Otto Hightower seen giving flowers to Floris Baratheon as she is discharged from hospital

The last one made your nose crinkle.

Course he was seen doing it.

You almost jumped out of your skin and dropped your phone in your hands as a firm, tall body bumped into you from behind, genuinely winding you as your form became sandwiched between it and the ledge.

"Fucking-" you pull out your earphones and throw a look over your shoulder. Knowing exactly who it is.

Aemond smiles apologetically, but not really that sorry, and snakes his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder, looking all innocent. But what isn’t so innocent is the way he’s so unabashedly pressed up against you.

You raise an eyebrow, "You done sneaking about?"

He huffs a laugh, the air blowing on your neck as you pretend to scroll on your phone to ignore him, “Was hardly ‘sneaking about’, you’re just going deaf”

He reaches over and scrolls back up, back at the news article you’d ignored a second earlier.

Aemond grins, “Pfft, Aemond Targaryen seen bringing his lover home to meet his family” he recites from the article's title, “do you think they have any idea what actually goes on, hm?”

You roll your eyes partly as his hands drop to your hips, squeezing gently, managing at the same time to grind his hips against your backside. You can’t really ignore the heat that’s beginning to gather in your belly when he does that.

You smirk at him over your shoulder, “Shouldn’t we be practising?”

His hands still make their way over every curve he can find. His mind miles away from said practice.

“Hm. I thought we could practise something else”

You catch his wrist, cheeks bright red as he tries to slip his fingers past the waistband of your leggings, “Aemond!” you whisper-shout, “there’s security cameras!”

“They don’t work” he muses, pressing a few open-mouthed kisses to your neck as he turns his head into you, wilfully ignorant of how embarrassed this is making you, “lucky for us”

His hand slips completely beneath the leggings, expertly sliding between your legs to swipe two digits along your folds. A quiet breathy mewl slips past your lips, your backside pressing softly into his obvious hardness, knowing full well he’ll likely punish you in his own way for teasing him.

“See, now you’re all wet for me” he whispers in your ear, teasing his fingers past your folds just barely, prodding at your slick entrance, “I’ve got myself a needy little slut, haven’t I?”

“Aemond, please -”

You’re not entirely sure how he manages to do it. How you instantly turn to mush when he touches you. When he speaks to you.

You can scarcely believe you ever really hated him.

Sometimes, you wonder if it ever was truly hate.

For either of you, it couldn’t have been.

You feel the way Aemond hums deep in his chest, “But I’m having so much fun teasing you, baby” he coos quietly, pressing the pads of his fingers in tight, soft circles on your clit, spreading what slick had gathered over it. The motion has a stuttered breath slipping past your lips, your hips sinking on him, searching for more contact.

You’re more annoyed than anything that he’s having such a good time watching you squirm, and embarrassment blooms hot at your cheeks.

“Turn around”

Your eyes snap open. His voice is so different, and how easily he’s able to flit from soft, teasing to harsh and domineering always manages to make your knees feel weak.

He pulls his hand free, not even waiting for you to do as he says before he spins you around, shoving your lower back hard against the ledge and kicking your legs apart with one of his. His eye is focussed entirely on the task at hand, jaw tight and his expression completely flat. He looks almost angry, but you know he’s just impatient.

You swallow thickly as he rolls the leggings over your hips, taking the underwear with it so it hangs around your upper thighs. He’s so rough with you that even now, before he’s done anything, that his fingers leave little red imprints where he’s been.

“I’ve been wanting to taste your pussy for days, princess” he muses, slipping to his knees, heedless of the ice leaking freezing water onto his sweatpants, “we’ve not had a spare moment, have we?”

You almost outright sob in want when he presses his face to your core, inhaling your scent deeply like he’s not been between them every day since you arrived back at his home.

“ - fuck - princess -”

You press your lips together to stifle a moan when you feel his tongue part your folds, licking a long stripe over your entrance, a low moan vibrating through your core. Your grip, white-knuckled on the ledge, tightens. As does his on the fleshy skin of your thighs, keeping them wide apart for him to feast on your cunt.

You’re not sure who is really enjoying this more, but based on the sounds Aemond is making while he drags his tongue from your entrance to your clit, lighting sucking on the sensitive bud and moaning while he does it, it would seem he is.

Airiness floods your head and that same pressure is beginning to tighten up in your gut when he grazes his teeth softly against your clit, redoubling his efforts and diving down to fuck you with his tongue, caressing the top of your slick walls with it. He groans as you reach one hand down and tighten it in his hair, ruining the bun he’d had it in. Aemond takes it in his stride, shuffling closer to you and nuzzling his nose against your core, providing pleasure in both ways with the way his sharp nose keeps butting against your bundle of nerves.

Tugging slightly on his follicles, the coil in your belly winds tighter, and you feel your body sinking repeatedly onto him, moving your hips in micro-movements to increase the contact.

“Fuck - Aemond -”

He smirks against you, giving one fat stripe over your folds before breaking away briefly, “You gonna cum for me, princess?” he asks quietly, before moving back in to pleasuring you.

You’re only able to get out hard pants before finding the energy to reply, “Yes, yes…” you chant, your hips finding him over and over, chasing that high.

Aemond pulls away, moving to stand quickly and crashing his lips to yours, his tongue moving against yours and allowing you to share in the heady, exciting taste of your arousal. You moan softly into his mouth, fisting his shirt to pull him closer, putting all of your disappointment at being denied your peak into kissing him back, nipping at his bottom lip harshly as he pulls away.

Instead of looking annoyed at how clearly annoyed you are, he simply smirks, his tongue darting out to clear his lips of any arousal or saliva, soothing where you’d bit him.

“Patience, princess”

He spins you around again before you have a chance to bark back, pushing you over the ledge with a hand flat on your back. Your skates bang against the side and you nearly lose your balance, before Aemond presses his legs against you to keep you stable.

“What the fu-ow!”

Heat blooms on your ass when Aemond slaps it, soothing it with his palm afterwards. It aches there but also between your legs, where more arousal has gathered, desperately needing friction. Or just something.

Aemond huffs a laugh, managing to pull down his sweatpants just enough to sheath himself deep inside you in one smooth motion. The sudden intrusion has your walls stretching to accommodate his size, the slight prickle of pain stoking the fire that had been neglected in your belly. You gasp, grappling forward as he bottoms out and begins immediately pistoning into you, spearing you apart on his cock like it’s the last thing he’ll do.

“ - fffuck, baby - so fucking tight-” he breathes between thrusts, his hips smacking harshly against yours, “ - so fucking wet for me, always so wet for me, aren’t you-”

You can only manage staggered moans in reply, your body constantly hurtled forward by the brutal rhythm of his cock driving into your heat over and over. You hope to any god out there that he doesn't actually want a proper reply. You’re not sure if you’re even capable of that right now.

“I like fucking you in your skates, with all your clothes on -” he breathes hot against your ear, leaning over and changing the angle, so he hits impossibly deeper, “-just my dirty, little cockslut, aren’t you-”

“-Aemond, please-”

“What” he replies harshly, increasing the intensity of his thrusts. He almost seems frustrated with how erratically his hips push against your backside, with the sounds to match, “gods, you’re so fucking needy for me - just like to be properly fucked, don’t you, princess -”

Your skates drift across the ice with every movement, breasts pressing near-painfully into the ledge. Being fully clothed like this, while you’re meant to be working, feels so dirty, so erotic, that it fans the flames inside you, pushing an all-consuming orgasm through your core, numbing into your limbs, with a wild cry of his name.

“That’s it, good girl - love it when you cum for me, fuck, love being inside you - lov-” he babbles incoherently, before his own voice strains, your core squeezing him so tightly that he spills deep inside you, filling you with his warmth.

You feel his heaved breaths at your back, trying desperately to suck the air back into his lungs.

He stays nestled inside you for some time, only moving away and pulling out after a long moment. You whine softly at the loss of him, hearing the fumbling of him pulling his sweatpants back up. You do the same, covering yourself on shaky legs, feeling the thrum of your own heartbeat through your core.

He’s quiet.

“Aemond?-”

Before you can really ask him what’s wrong, his arms wrap around you from behind. It’s a far cry from the way he was holding/fucking you earlier. It’s soft and tender, like one wrong move and he thinks you’ll break in half. He holds you close, your back pressed against his chest, where you can feel the steady beat of his heart, calming down.

His hands clasp at your front, his chin resting at the crown of your head.

“You okay?” you ask, covering his hands with yours, soothing his hand with your thumb. The action makes your stomach roll, an unfamiliar feeling being stoked within.

You feel him nod.

“Yeah, yeah…fine” he says, barely above a whisper.

Even though he’s not convincing anyone, you don’t prod or pry for more information. You know him well enough that he’d appreciate just your understanding and silence. So that’s exactly what you do.

You just stand, in a comfortable silence, pressed tightly against each other.

Eventually, he begrudgingly did start practising the finals routine with you. And though both of you were pumping hot in your blood with lust after the quickie, there was always, always something unsaid. You could tell there was something Aemond wanted to say, but didn’t have the courage to form the words.

The last time either of you were at the ice rink at his home, the shared touches were electric, almost painful, and there was then an underlying hostility.

But now.

It felt completely different.

And you didn’t know what to do.

The press were onto you. Both of you, like hounds. Like they could smell something was going on. They’d even started constantly hanging around outside the security gates, waiting for someone to come out, or to catch a glimpse of the supposed couple.

Sat on the bench, unlacing your skates, you look up at Aemond as he pulls on his shoes.

“Just gonna freshen up before lunch, see you inside?” he asks, pulling on his jacket in preparation of being rained on.

You can hear the rattling of the incessant raindrops on the metal roof of the ice rink.

You spare him a smile and nod, “Course”

You don’t know why it surprises you, but he bends down, one hand tugging your face up to his to press a tender, almost loving kiss, as quick as it is, to your lips. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

It has you frozen in your own body as you watch him walk away, slipping out the door, the rain pelting on the ground outside becoming briefly louder as it swings shut, dropping you into silence.

Your lips are warm from him, a deep point in your belly is also.

Just as you slip your shoes on, your phone buzzes in your pocket. Before any other feeling, a lingering sense of unease rolls through you.

Larys Strong has shared a link with you.

Swallowing thickly, you stare at the screen for what feels like hours. And then a follow up email, just with text.

Here is all I have.

With a shaky breath, you swipe his email away and click on the link, which takes you to a Google Drive. Anxiety twists in your chest, feeling very much like you are doing something you shouldn’t. But the not-knowing is driving you crazy, so the loading bar at the top of the screen somewhat aggravates you, impatience humming in your blood.

Two folders.

_Floris Baratheon Incident

And one with your name.

With shaky thumbs, you decide to click on Floris’ first.

Several screenshots of conversations, email exchanges, text messages, even a voice message.

Do something to her skates.

O.H

You immediately recognise the phone number as his.

Otto Hightower sabotaged Floris Baratheon.

Your breath is stuck in your throat, dread rising with the anxiety.

Fuckfuckfuck.

He had not only wanted Floris out. He was willing to physically harm her, pay someone else to do it, so that her contract would be broken.

The voice recording is largely muffled, making you press the speaker side of your phone right to your ear. But from the sounds of it, it’s Otto.

“I know it’s good to have a Baratheon on our side of the competition, but Floris is nowhere near good enough to launch Aemond into the Olympics. While she likes him, he doesn’t like her. We need some kind of…integrated relationship if we’re going to convince the judges. There’s nobody there on our side anymore, since Viserys died”

He goes on, the recorder muffled. Perhaps in someone’s pocket.

“I can’t break her contract without paying her. She needs to be gone, as soon as possible”

The tone of his voice. Talking about Floris like she’s not a person, makes your blood run cold.

And that’s all there is in that folder. Such a short conversation, like they were just talking about the weather, but really they were planning on how best to ruin a young girl’s life, career and hobby. All for the sake of not paying her because they didn’t like her chemistry with Aemond…

Which begs the question.

Why you?

You don’t really want to admit how sick it makes you feel to see how many things there are in the folder titled with your name. It feels…intrusive. Like people know secrets about you that you, or even Rhaenys, doesn't even know.

After all figure skating isn’t just a career, it’s what you love.

You don’t want them to ruin that for you.

You can feel your breath pick up, hot tears sitting behind your eyes, and the beginnings of a migraine slipping into your head. Low background.

Bad circumstances.

Is that really all you were? A fucking pity choice?

Not because you were just good at what you did?

Not just because they wanted your skills.

But because they wanted to raise someone they deemed lesser to their level, for sympathy votes.

Bile rises in your throat at that.

Everything had been meticulously planned. Every movement. Every placement.

Everything.

The magic of that first night with Aemond feels ruined.

You feel preyed upon. By Otto and whoever he was collaborating with to make this happen, as if they were right there listening against the door and taking turns looking through the keyhole.

And then Otto’s words almost a week prior…

‘It is just business. Aemond knows this’

Surely…he couldn’t have been in on this the whole time.

Right?

You grip your phone tightly, hearing the case crack in your grip.

There is…humiliation. Betrayal.

But also anger.

You don’t even register the hammering of rain against your face as you stride past the garden, clad only in the exercise clothes you had been in all morning. By the time you’ve slid the doors forcefully aside, your hair is half-soaked, your leggings as well, blood feeling like fire with the anger that courses through you.

You know he's here tonight.

He's always lurking about somewhere.

You push the doors to the library open, the oak banging against the doorframe with a rattle. Otto looks up from his desk with surprise, with an expression that immediately reminds you of the subtle, yet annoying way Aemond used to look at you, before his eyebrows lower and his lips curl upwards, as if amused.

"Caught out in the rain?" He asks, chuckling, completely ignoring the frown your face is set into.

Phone gripped tightly, you take your time walking in before you're at his desk, chucking the device haphazardly in front of him. The list of screenshots litter the screen.

"What the fuck do you call this?"

Otto takes one sweeping look at your phone, not really even reading any of them.

But somehow knowing full well what they are.

"Is there a problem?"

"Is there a prob-" you scoff, laughing incredulously.

If you don't laugh you'll cry.

"First of all, fucking sabotaging Floris' skates?" You throw the words at him, "she could be permanently injured! Her career could be-"

"She had no career" he interrupts, which is slowly driving you mad, "she could not take criticism. Thinks she's better than she actually is"

"Oh, and that's an excuse, is it? She broke her fucking ankle. She might never skate the same and you treat her like…well you treat her like a fucking commodity, like you do the rest of your family!"

"How I conduct business with my family is of no matter to you"

Your hands brace the desk, not backing down one bit.

"I am not your fucking family" you warn, "which brings me to that. Low birth? Common? Bad circumstances? Who the fuck do you think you are exactly!"

"I scouted you for your skills"

"And hoping that me and Aemond would fuck into the bargain. Improve his image, did it?"

"That was merely a bonus"

"Is this what you do to all the women in your life? Force them into the arms of someone else so you don't have to deal with them? So that you can climb higher without having any talents of your own?"

Otto's eyes narrow.

"You don't know a thin-"

"I know you forced your own daughter into the arms of a fucking judge, and she faced the repercussions.

I know you forced Helaena to skate with Aegon, even though she'd be happier doing Singles. But she's too nice for her own good to really hate you for it.

And I know, you forced me to work with Aemond, just hoping, just praying, I'd be stupid enough to throw myself at him. You must have been shaking in your fucking boots when he didn't like me at first"

Otto seems more than anything to be annoyed that you've interrupted him.

"And what do your grandsons get? Aegon fucking hates skating and Aemond-" you scoff, "-he was emotionally abused by a woman decades his senior and you forced him to talk to her"

Otto is quiet.

"Gods forbid Daeron ever chooses to compete professionally. He's the only one who doesn't hate you yet"

Otto stands quickly, brushing your phone back towards you.

"If you release those screenshots my lawyers will destroy you" he warns, "you'll never be signed again, and you'll certainly never make the championships again, I'll make sure of that"

Your mouth opens to bark back.

"And you'll never see Aemond again"

But that makes you freeze and go cold all over. And it might not be the rain sticking to your clothes.

"No contact. Nothing"

You swallow thickly, clenching your fists. Anxiety and fear rolling through you. Your heart drops into your stomach. And Otto wears a victorious grin, which only serves to make you want to vomit.

"You used me for fucking pity" you say, voice strained, trying desperately not to cry.

"And I made you a champion," he responds coolly.

Is that all he ever fucking thinks about?

Winning?

Even at the cost of his family hating him?

"I'm not entertaining this"

Otto chuckles, "You are bound by the terms of our contract. And I'm sure there's plenty of…other reasons why you'd want to stay anyway"

How could he weaponise Aemond at you like this…

You take several steady breaths.

"Fuck you. And fuck your contract"

"What the hell's going on?"

You swing around quickly, heart dropping at the sound of Aemond's voice. He stands against the doors, looking worriedly between the two of you, his eye wide and concerned. The ends of his hair are wet from the shower you suppose he's just taken, looking much better than you, as the rain drying on you makes your hair frizz up.

Wound tightly with both anger and betrayal, laughing is the only thing you find the effort to do, confusing both the men in the room.

"Yes, why don't you tell Aemond what you've just told me?" You smile, eyes filled with tears in Otto's direction, snatching your phone from the table just as he's about to do the same.

"It is no concern of yours, Aemond" Otto replies distantly.

"If it concerns her then it does concern me"

When Aemond says that, any warmth associated with the affection you have for him turns to dust. Just the sheer weight of the situation makes your body feel like lead, incapable of letting any light in.

"I can't fucking stay here, not with him" you shake your head, the situation entirely overwhelming, trying to just get as far away from Otto Hightower as possible.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong? Baby - please -" Aemond crowds you, intending to help, his hands on your arms to try and make you just talk to him. His features are set in worry. It's somehow endearing.

But with everything that's happened it just feels like too much, like the walls are closing in on you. Like one touch and you'll explode.

"Please, Aemond, I can't stay here after all he's -"

You don't even have the strength to finish the sentence before floods of tears pour down your cheeks, your throat tightening up.

How you even find the energy to swing the front door open is beyond you.

The last thing you see before walking away from the Targaryen House, is Aemond in the doorway, looking out at you walking through the rain. He wears a look of sadness and panic.

You only briefly hear the echo of Alicent berating someone deep within the house, her malicious, emotional screams bouncing off the walls. You see Helaena, joining Aemond's side, her face sullen. And Aegon, sat in an armchair, looking not at all surprised at the situation, with his hands clasped in his lap.

You can't pretend it doesn't hurt your heart to leave. But you simply cannot be in the same vicinity as Otto right now before doing something you regret.

Without Arryk or Criston's car, you're resigned to walk in the pouring rain to the security gate. Almost not minding the rain compared to what's going to happen.

The press, waiting outside with their raincoats on, all scramble to their feet. Camera flashes clicking loudly against your ears, crowding your space even further, uncaring of personal space. Microphones and voice recorders join them a moment later, accompanied by a waterfall of questions.

With Aemond, he could work the press easily, paving a path wherever he went by virtue of his position in the industry. But now, by yourself, it pains your chest like a stab straight to the heart, the notion that now, as you fight off the press to pave your own escape, tears rolling down your face, that you are very much alone.

"The number you have called is currently unavailable. Please try again later"

You choke on your own tears and breath. Four times you've called El, to ask if it's okay to come back to the flat you used to share.

Your mind was so blurry, and messy, you'd forgotten she was on holiday with her family. The annual Baratheon get-together. And perfect weather for it too.

For a brief moment, you're almost mad she's not here.

But know that it's just because how utterly lonely you feel, and she'd always been there before to offer a shoulder to cry on. An instant ramen to make. A shitty movie to put on. All to make you feel better.

In the rain, everything looks different, but especially through the misty gaze of the tears that glaze your eyes.

You bend down to slip the spare key from under the doormat, relieved it's still there. She'd probably forgotten about it anyway. It takes a few genuine tries with your rain-slick hands to get the key into the door, but you manage.

Only to be hit immediately with the nostalgic smell of your apartment.

It'd been so long.

It makes you want to cry even harder. It feels warm. Not at all the cavernous, marble, almost clinical feel of the Targaryen House. But cosy, comforting, like a big warm hug, despite nobody being in.

It smells like those Fresh Cotton candles she loves, the basic bitch.

You laugh sadly at that.

You miss her.

The normality. Her late night voice memos. You miss all of it, before everything became so complicated.

Even though you have the whole flat at your disposal, you can't find the energy to do anything useful like cook or shower.

So with rain soaked clothes, sticking uncomfortably to your skin, you just curl up on the sofa, the TV turned down low, just as a means of filling the silence. You almost don't want to go into your room. Seeing it all empty will just upset you even more.

You ignore the frequent buzz of your phone on the sofa, pulling the blanket up to your chin, just entirely numb.

The rain taps incessantly on the window, the way it hits the concrete with such velocity has a faint mist rising from the streets. It's all so grey outside, with only the hum of passing cars and their warm headlights to fill the colourless space as the sun, hidden behind endless clouds, gives way for darkness.

You sigh, feeling your throat tickle with the onset of a cold, probably from walking home in the torrential downpour.

It's so quiet you barely hear it. And the third time it happens you furrow your brows and look over at the door.

Perhaps El wasn't able to go after all?

You wipe your face, striding over the fallen blanket piled on the floor, with no energy to pick it up, and shuffle to the door, undoing all three locks that you and El had installed after an attempted break-in.

The uncomfortable humid waft of the outside is the first thing that hits you, as well as a spray of hot rain.

The second is cold.

Cold all over.

Aemond stands, or rather slumps against the doorframe, one hand rested flat against it and completely out of breath, as if he’d been rushing.

Aemond Targaryen, who hates going out in the rain, hates getting his hair wet, hates walking anywhere that isn’t necessary, prefers to take Arryk’s care even a few minutes down the road and absolutely hates not looking his best, stands there completely drenched, just entirely quiet. Rain has soaked through his clothes, sticking to every square inch of his body.

Like him, the air is taken out of your lungs as well. Frozen in place, and unable to utter a single thing as your throat closes up once again.

Aemond can’t seem to say anything either, he just looks down at you, his expression not unreadable, but so unlike him that you’re not sure if you’ve ever seen it.

Except you absolutely have.

That night Otto forced him to speak to Alys Rivers, he wore an expression of panic.

Shoulders rolled forward to appear smaller.

Eyebrows furrowed in worry, his good eye downcast and sullen.

The expression of being entirely lost.

He’s still being pelted with rain when you step forward, dissolving entirely into silent tears, your arms holding his torso so tightly, you’re surprised he reciprocates.

Everything else fizzles out. And you hate how cringy it sounds in your head, but all there is is just you two, and this moment, his arms, wrapped snugly around you, almost entirely encompassing your form. Such tenderness from him he has only afforded you a handful of times.

But this. This is something else. Not just tenderness.

But neither of you dare to approach that.

It just feels too good to be around him, to have him like this. You don’t want to think about anything else.

Aemond feels how you tremble, trying to hold in the sobs, so much that it hurts in your chest.

“Oh, Princess…” he soothes, one hand moving up to stroke the back of your head, your face firmly planted against his neck.

You wonder, in the hours since you stormed out, what he now knows.

So you don’t open the floodgates just yet.

Giving one last squeeze, you pull away, wiping the rain and tears off your face with the back of your hand and gesture inside.

“You want to come in?..”

He almost looks shocked you’ve asked, but understanding that both of you need to talk.

As if by habit, Aemond toes off his shoes before he shuts the front door behind him, following you into the warm, cosiness of your shared apartment with El.

Instinctively, you load the kettle with water and click it on, a few silent seconds passing before it begins to hiss with life.

“Where is she?” he asks, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, looking around at all the little nick-nacks on various shelves. Not cluttered, but busy enough to feel like a home.

Your turn, having been staring at the kettle, “What?”

He shoves his hands in his pockets, the wet fabric dragging across his skin, “Your flatmate. El, right?”

How did he remember that?

“O-oh, um…she’s away with her dad” you reply, swallowing thickly with nerves and turning back to pour a mug of tea for yourself and a coffee for Aemond.

You don’t see it, but there’s a subtle smile on his face as he watches you, for not having to ask him how he likes it.

“Thanks” he says softly, as you slide a mug over the counter in his direction.

Seeing Aemond in this kind of environment is nothing short of weird.

Having seen him in environments professionally, such as ice rinks and competitions, as well as being inside his home, surrounded by space and expensive items, gives you an impression of him akin to a celebrity, someone out of reach.

But here, in the tiny apartment, lit with brown and amber hues, where the living room and the kitchen are quite literally the same room, he looks so comically tall and broad, he almost swallows every bit of the room he’s in.

But it’s nice, seeing him in a different light.

He seems different.

He leans on the arm of the sofa, facing you in the kitchen, taking a scalding sip of his coffee, which is nowhere near drinkable, and then leaning over to pop it on a coaster on the coffee table.

It’s hard to contain the smile that drifts onto your face. At least he’s kept his manners.

And then, Aemond clasps his hands, sighs and does that thing where he tries to look small again.

“Just after you left, Alys came to the house”

Just like that, your heart is frozen again. But instead of dread, there’s anger.

But not at him.

“Why?” you ask, warming your hands with the mug.

Aemond shrugs, not meeting your gaze, “Probably to cash in on whatever petty shit she can get her grubby hands on”

You’re glad he speaks about her with some level of aggression. She deserves more than that.

"She probably saw the articles. Pictures of you leaving. Thought she might be able to worm her way back in somehow now that Otto is on his ass" he adds.

Fuck. They work fast.

Maybe it's for the best you didn't check your phone. It's probably Rhaenys, wondering what the fuck is going on.

Brief embarrassment runs sharply through you.

He takes a breath, “Otto told us everything”

You raise an eyebrow, “us?”

He nods, “All of us. Mum. Aeg, Hel”

You blink, your throat feeling sore from not letting the emotion out, keeping it bottled inside until you have the answers you want.

The answers you need.

“Did you know?” you ask, voice wavering. Feeling awful for even suggesting it.

Aemond looks up at that, his mismatched blue eyes reflecting the warm amber light of the room.

“I knew…that he was scouting, and had his eye on you to replace Floris” he answers slowly, watching your face, careful about his words, “but, honestly, that’s it, baby, I promise”

The term of endearment has your tummy doing a tiny backflip.

You let that absorb for a moment. Grateful that Aemond is affording you the silence for it.

Clearing your throat, “But you didn’t know why?”

He shakes his head once.

“I hate to ask it, it’s just becau-”

“Because I said all that shit about, class and…who you were, I know” he interrupts, but with a voice that softens, “and I understand why you’d assume that I knew”

He stands, taking short, careful steps towards you, his fingers playing with each other, “But I promise, I didn’t know…any of that shit. I admit, I could have done more, and I could have been better to you from the beginning, and protected you from all this.

And I’m sorry for that”

You look up at him, breath hitching for a moment having not realised how close he is.

“And I will always be sorry for it” he adds, discreetly reaching for your hands.

His gaze is downcast, looking at your hands in his.

“There’s so much I need to tell you”

You realise that this isn’t just going to naturally occur.

That he is asking for you to listen to him. That for so long, nobody bothered to ask how he was, or how he was dealing with everything. The abuse from Alys. The chronic pain.

Nobody had ever really asked him.

And after everything, how could you not?

He at least deserved to get it all off his chest.

“Let’s sit down, okay?”

You sit on the sofa, nibbling on your thumbnail as Aemond speaks, surprisingly animated, and without hardly taking a breath. Only doing so every now and then to sip the rapidly cooling coffee.

He starts essentially from the beginning. The situation with this father. The absentee. Who couldn’t give a shit about the four children he had with Alicent if he tried. Often he forgot their names and pretended sometimes, as if they didn’t exist. Eventually, Alicent was not exempt from this behaviour.

You learn that this ‘friend’ Alicent was referring to so lovingly when you returned from the semi-finals, was in fact Aemond’s older half-sister, Rhaenyra. He explains as much as he can from his own perspective, tagging it all off with ‘well, how would you feel if your best mate started getting it off with your dad?’.

Point taken.

Rhaenyra never went professional. She moved abroad, remarried, had more children.

But not before kicking the wasp’s nest, as Aemond put it.

You, of course, know of Jace, being friendly with him and seeing him every now and then, practically in the same line of work. But even less about his younger brother, Luke, since he was several years younger and still unsure about the industry.

After all, once you're in, you're in.

But you didn’t realise that Aemond was related to them in some capacity.

And that when they were all children, having grown up together, after a largely innocent duel using fake, wooden swords, Luke, no more than a child who didn’t know any better, bought an actual knife. A steak knife, no less. One that Aemond vividly remembers, as the serrated blade tore through his skin after a scuffle.

Of course, Aemond knew it was accidental, but that wasn’t exactly the first thought running through his mind at the age of 10.

Rhaenyra paid the medical bills and swiftly left the country on the first flight out, but not before some choice words were had between her and Alicent first.

It sounds spectacularly messy.

And Aemond had been stuck in the middle of all of it. Having lost sight in his left eye, a scar lining his face, spent weeks in hospital without his own father there and a new chronic condition as a result.

No wonder he’d felt so alone.

Like any of the siblings, figure skating was impressed on them from an early age. And Otto, as per Aemond’s explanation, had jumped at the opportunity when Aemond was doing well despite not having sight in one eye. So much so, that he’d spent a large part of his formative years just competing. Not doing things that a normal teenager would do.

Having to grow up far too quickly.

He’d started wringing his hands at this point in the story. The tell-tale rolling of his shoulders forward and his leg bouncing with nerves.

“I regret the day I arrived in Harrenhal. Shit ice rink anyway”

Enter. Alys Rivers.

By his description, she’d clocked him the moment she saw him. Even now, he says, he does a double take whenever he sees a woman with long black hair, his heart going fast.

He doesn’t go too in-depth. Only that she made him feel validated at first, said all the right things.

Did all the right things as well.

But he wasn’t ashamed to admit that. He was more ashamed at how much he had bought into it all those years ago. How she’d attempted to make herself like a barrier between him and his family, especially Alicent, and for a long while, it had worked. He hadn’t stepped into the Targaryen house for months, spending every waking moment with Alys and only Alys any moment he could get.

What shocked you the most, was how it managed to last even six months.

He had said that she’d been his first sexual partner, and that she used that against him multiple times but he never really saw it until afterwards. Said that ‘she was the only one who was going to love him. Because she loved him unconditionally, despite his deformity’.

That made you feel ill.

How could she say something like that?

It had all ended quite forcefully. Otto had discovered that Alys had managed to get a hold of Aemond’s bank details, taking little bits and pieces from the shared company account, before getting too ahead of herself, and withdrawing large chunks at a time. Eventually exposing her long-standing behaviour.

For a while, Aemond tried to justify it. Saying they were gifts.

It was only when he returned home and Alicent broke down crying, that he said he’d finally sobered up, after months of being forcefully drunk on Alys Rivers.

Otto was less sympathetic. Urging him that ‘as a man, it is your responsibility to deal with this on your own’.

“He knew the pregnancy thing was bullshit…” Aemond carried on, the blanket somehow ending up on his lap, shared between you, “...but she was trying anything and everything to shake the allegations that she was ever stealing from us, from me, rather”

He sighs.

“She just wanted to get anything she could out of me” he adds, his voice wavering, “and she would’ve done…’til there wasn’t any of me left”

You shake your head, “Otto was cruel making you talk to her”

Aemond swallows visibly, moving his shoulders at the memory.

“I said I’d cut off ties with Otto as soon as I can”

Your eyebrows raise, the empty mug almost falling out of your lap.

“What?” you half-shout, “Aemond, I-I don’t want you to just do this because of-”

“It’s not just that, it’s fucking - it’s everything he’s done to us” he adds, his gaze meeting yours, as if to emphasise, to make real everything he is saying, “-everything he’s done to me. Aeg. Even Mum…”

You can tell by the way he trails off, that it’s a sore subject. Perhaps one broached many times, but never resolved.

He fucking loves his mother so much. Empathises with her pain like he shares in it. Sometimes his long, sad expression, reminds you of how she often looks.

“I’ve wanted to for a long time” he mutters, “I fucking hated you for it then, but you were right, I never liked it. I just did it because I thought it would…achieve something, I don’t know”

You know what he means but daren’t not say it.

He thought that pursuing it professionally would buy his love. Both his father, then Otto.

One he’s not had from any male figure in his life.

You swallow over the lump in your throat. It must be so much weight on him. And it shows, in how light he looks even now, telling you the very bare minimum.

“What he did to you was the last straw…”

Your eyes flit up, to meet him. That same rolling feeling spreads over your tummy, like opening the curtains on a sunny, summer morning and bathing yourself in light.

His look right now is both intense and soft at the same time. Willing you to believe him in case there’s any indication that you don’t.

“...Mum was in floods of tears when she found out. Said you were good and kind. That you never judged us. Never judged her” he adds, words breaking with emotion in between.

You huff, playing with your fingers "high praise then" you joke.

But he smiles despite it, “...she loves you, you know”

That cracks a smile from you. The first one in hours. Your cheeks burn from the tears and rain on it, and yet it feels nice. You watch with barely-concealed, softened joy as Aemond cracks his own smile, one side of his lips turned up just ever so slightly, in his classic Aemond-esque sort of way.

You wouldn’t trade that smile for the world.

“I do too”

Air is sucked from your chest, mouth entirely dry, as the sheer heft of what he’s said begins to sink in.

Did he really just say that?

Am I in a fever dream?

He nods, "I think I have for a while"

You want to speak, to hug, to kiss him, but nothing will come out. Your body won’t move in accordance with your brain, and your hands get pins and needles all of a sudden. Without you realising, warmth seems to have made its way down your face, dripping off your jaw.

All the while, Aemond just sits there, watching your reaction.

Fuck.

You love him too.

And before you even know it, in place of words, your lips are pressed desperately against each other, hands clamouring for any bit of clothing or skin you can find. Aemond groans as you tilt your head, deepening the kiss and allowing tongues and teeth to wrestle against each other. His hands cup your ass as he tugs you over his lap, breathing heavily into your mouth with each break for air.

Instinctually, your hips grind on him, feeling him harden instantly beneath the damp sweatpants, your hand reaching down to stroke his length to full mast with your palm.

His hands are everywhere. Thighs, waist, breasts, tangled in your hair. While his lips map out your entire body where he can from this angle, leaving marks with his teeth over the column of your neck, still rippled to attention from goosebumps. You squeeze around him with your thighs, directing all your want into just that movement, to tell him how much you need him.

“Bedroom” he breathes, “where?”

You answer as your hands dip beneath his shirt, smoothing over his tacky skin, feeling his muscles contract.

“Down the hall, first right, but there’s no bed sheet-” you gasp as he lifts you, pressing needy, open kisses to your swollen lips.

“I don’t need fucking bed sheets for what I’m about to do to you”

Aside from when he deposited you on the bed, the mattress squeaking comically, making you look at each other and giggle like two little love-sick teenagers, Aemond is entirely soft, tender, taking his time like this is the last moment he’ll ever get to properly be with you.

Even the act of undressing is painfully slow and sensual, despite the clear hunger in both of your gazes. Everything he does now, has your stomach fluttering pleasantly. Irreversibly.

And it’s something you’ll never get sick of.

He was never one for making too much noise in bed. But here, as his cock pistons into your desperate heat over and over, your former bedroom alight and hot with sex, Aemond whimpers, whines and groans, depending on what’s going on, right against the crook of your neck. One hand on your throat, his fingers encircling it and tightening the closer he gets to the height of his bliss, pleasantly robbing your brain of just the right amount of air to feel like you’re floating.

Your orgasm builds embarrassingly fast, from everything, the heat of the moment, him.

And doing this knowing he really wants to.

Nearing the peak of your pleasure, his thumb snakes between you and rubs your clit in tight, careful circles, hurtling you towards the precipice. All while his pelvis smacks with the sound of your arousal against yours, with your legs pulled tightly around him, and his grip not letting go.

With each thrust of his cock into you, he kisses your neck, and utters.

“I love you”

Then your jaw.

“I love you”

And finally your lips, just as your pussy tightens around him.

“ - fuck - I love you -”

He pulls his head up to look down at you just in time to watch as you fall apart, white-hot pleasure running like fire in your veins as your pussy flutters around his cock, taking him over the edge with you. His hooded, lusty gaze focussed entirely on you, until his brows furrow himself, lips hanging apart only slightly, as he finishes deep inside you.

The only sound is hurried breaths, and every now and then the mattress squeaking as a result of only the tiniest of movements.

Aemond huffs, leaning up on his elbows, the chain slipping out beneath his shirt and dangling in your face, the chill of the metal against your chest making you shudder. His hair, already having been ruined by the rain, hangs in lazy wavy strands around his face.

An exhausted breathy laugh falls out his mouth, his warm hand making its way back up to your face, sighing as he sees you lean your cheek into it.

He looks so perfect like this, is the first thing that comes to mind.

But the words that come pouring out your mouth are completely and entirely natural.

Really, the point of no return.

The only moment Aemond Targaryen remembers of his life before loving you, is when you say so clearly, with such devotion, adoration and care.

“I love you too”

Aemond Taglist (1): @asp3nxx | @avidreader73 | @bellaisasleep | @boofy1998 | @cathy1514

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utahimeow · 1 year

Text

enamoured — kenma kozume

summary — kenma takes you to his company event, but neither of you really want to be there.

pairing — kenma x f!reader

warnings — nsfw content minors dni! smut with lots of fluff, fingering, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, established relationship

word count — 5.7k

author’s note — this is just kenma and reader being disgustingly in love like its so gross and cheesy pls don’t perceive me

There aren’t many things that Kenma likes to put effort into.

He likes his job. He doesn’t have to do much except sit in his room and play video games while thousands of people watch. There’s volleyball–sometimes he wonders how he played it for so long without quitting. He loved the sport, but god, it made him tired. His appearance is… lacklustre. He probably could do something more with his style, but what’s the point if he’s not comfy?

You’re the single thing he often finds himself putting effort into. Not that you’re high-maintenance, or needy (although he would argue otherwise). It’s that he’s never cared so much about anything in his life as he cares about loving you.

It was scary at first. Kenma couldn’t fathom that he was capable of having feelings like that. You consumed him long before he had even asked you to be his. It’s still scary. Sometimes he feels so much for you that he has no idea how to express it–he’s never had the chance. He tries though, and hopes you understand. Sometimes you don’t. Most times you do.

The only reason he’s going to the event tonight is because you’re coming with him. He couldn’t care less about meeting the strangers who invest in his company, even if without them his company wouldn’t exist. He couldn’t care less about meaningless praises about his success, or being sucked up to by people he won’t see for another year.

He’ll never admit it, but in a way he’s glad you’re too stubborn to give in to staying home. Before you, he wouldn’t have cared about how impolite it would be to ditch his own event. Now he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he had to watch you be disappointed in him for ditching. Besides, the designer dress he bought you is far too pretty to be left sitting in the closet. If not out of genuine interest, he’ll at least go so he can show you off a little.

When the taxi reaches the venue, Kenma offers his hand to you as you step out of the car–or rather, he requests your hand in his. Despite being twenty minutes late already, he takes slow strides towards the front entrance, but it’s not because he’s afraid you’ll fall behind in your platform heels (he knows you’re quite efficient in them).

Once you make it to the hall that’s reserved especially for the event, Kenma halts just before entering. His face is straight as always, and even his eyes give away nothing, but this is Kenma Kozume. The man who can spend days on end without leaving your shared apartment unless it’s really urgent. Often you’re the only person who he sees for weeks at a time. Therefore, his next words don’t really come as a surprise–

“Don’t go anywhere, please.”

Still, they undoubtedly make your heart swell. You squeeze his hand, stepping closer to him to tuck a strand of loose, half-blond half-brown hair behind his ear. It’s mostly pulled back into a looped bun that you helped him style, but there are stray strands falling around his eyes, making it much more suited to him.

“The only reason I’m here is for you, Ken-Ken,” you say, and you giggle when his nose scrunches at the nickname. “You just have to be Kodzuken until your social battery dies, and then we can go home.”

“My social battery’s already dead,” he says, smug as always.

You roll your eyes playfully, letting your fingers brush against his neck as you adjust his tie that doesn’t need adjusting.

“Well, it’s just a couple hours, and I’ll be with you the entire time,” you assure him, not missing the way his eyes drop to sweep down your body–lingering on the neckline of your dress that’s teasingly low. He chews on the inside of his lip, his honey eyes gleaming and for a moment, there’s clarity in his expression.

Without another word, Kenma shoves his hands in the pockets of his pressed dress pants, waits for you to grab hold of his arm like he knows you will, and makes his entrance. He doesn’t make much of an effort to fix his posture, or introduce himself, only plasters a small smile onto his face and waits until people start to notice him.

It’s Kenma’s manager, Teppei Kishimoto, who finds you two first. Good thing, too. He’s one of the small number of people your boyfriend tolerates, and it’s because he does… basically everything for Kenma. Not in a pushover way, though. It’s more of a ‘gets shit done’ way. With him, Kenma’s learned to regret slacking off.

“Surprised you showed up at all, Kozume,” Teppei says, clapping a hand down on Kenma’s shoulder, charming as ever. He’s close enough to both of you now that he’s become more of a friend than a manager, but he’s good enough at his job to still keep things professional.

“I wouldn’t have if it weren’t for her,” he admits and tilts his head towards you, to which you scoff, smiling gently as Teppei pulls you in for a hug.

“Thank you for organising everything. You did amazing,” you say. He quite literally organised everything. From booking the venue to emailing out invites to hiring caterers, he made sure Kenma didn’t lift a finger.

“Come on, there’s people waiting to talk to you,” Teppei says, dragging Kenma towards a small crowd of guests. Gently you let go of his arm, trailing a few inches behind them instead. Kenma flicks his head back momentarily in search of you, just to assure himself that you’re still there.

The next while goes like this: Teppei introduces Kenma to some investors, Kenma introduces you as his girlfriend, you make small talk (though Teppei does most of the talking) until Kenma gets excused in order to talk to a different group of investors. It’s a lot of nodding along, laughing at jokes that aren’t that funny, and business talk. Safe to say you don’t have much to contribute, but you’re happy to be there.

On one side of the hall, there’s a table filled with champagne flutes, so you tug at your boyfriend’s arm and lean into his ear.

“I’m just grabbing a glass of champagne. Do you want some?” He hardly ever drinks and if he does it’s beer bottles, but you offer anyway–a little alcohol might help loosen him up, especially with how stiff he is under your touch.

“No, thanks,” he replies. You nod, giving his bicep a squeeze before heading towards the drinks. As you turn away you catch a tinge of pink on his cheeks which in turn makes warmth spread through your own body and a tiny grin stretches your lips.

Kenma looks ridiculously good–it almost annoys you. It’s a shame he doesn’t put effort into his appearance more often, especially when all he’s done tonight is tied his hair back into a neater-than-usual bun and put on a tailored suit. Maybe it’s better for your health though. You can barely control yourself when he’s in his ripped sweatpants and ten-year-old hoodies.

You’re not sure how long you can keep it together tonight, though. The way his pants hug his slim legs and how his jacket follows the curve of his waist makes you bite down on your bottom lip, wishing it was his skin you were biting down on. His usual garb never shows off anything–his legs, small waist, wider shoulders. The only time they’re on display is when he’s inside you.

With a deep breath and a dull warmth between your legs, you pluck a flute of champagne from the table before sidling back over to Kenma, staying true to your promise.

You’re like a tick the way you stay glued to him, but he leans into your touch–appreciates it.

Eventually, his muscles tense up once more when Teppei offhandedly mentions that Kenma will be making a speech. He turns to you immediately, a hint of panic in his eyes.

“It’ll only be a few words, just to thank patrons for showing up,” Teppei assures him, knowing his client. “Don’t worry.”

Still, there’s not much resolve on your boyfriend’s face.

“Babe, you talk in front of hundreds and thousands of people daily. There’s only like a hundred tonight,” you reason.

“Yeah, but my stream viewers aren’t… real,” he says. It makes you chuckle. He’s told you before that in his mind, he can’t fathom the fact that his viewers are real people. Therefore, he can’t be anxious about streaming.

“It won’t take more than… thirty seconds. That’s all,” Teppei says. You nod your head, agreeing, but Kenma’s face remains troubled.

You lean into his ear again, bringing your voice to a whisper. “After you do it, we’ll go home, okay? You look too good in this suit. I can't take it anymore.”

He chews on the inside of his cheek, swallowing as his eyes become distant. The cogs in his brain begin to turn. Teppei raises a brow at you, but he doesn’t say anything. He can’t, not when Kenma, of his own accord, begins to make his way up to the small stage on top of which a podium stands.

Kenma stands there, with his shoulders hunched and his hands tucked into his pockets. He’s not doing anything, yet you so badly wish you were on your knees in front of him.

“Hello,” he says, flat as always. His voice is swallowed by the din of the crowd, but slowly it grows quieter as the guests take notice of his presence, until finally it dies into a complete silence.

“I’m Kenma Kozume. I’m the CEO of Bouncing Ball corporation,” he says. He stares down at the microphone mostly, his cat eyes only flicking up ever so often. You’re smiling like a proud mother regardless, mostly because of the excitement that’s starting to overtake you when you think about how soon you’ll have him all to yourself.

“Thank you for coming tonight, um, I appreciate seeing you all. I wanna thank my manager, Teppei Kishimoto, for organising this event,” he says, before his eyes land on your smiling face. Your eyes, however, flash with want when you bat your lashes. Kenma has half a mind to thank you in his speech–for what? Maybe for being pretty.

He clears his throat, forcing himself to tear his eyes away from you before he gets down on one knee and proposes. “I’m grateful for all of your investments and support. My company wouldn’t be where it is without you all. So… I hope you all have a good night, and thanks. Again.”

He finishes with a curt nod, bolting from the stage as the room fills with polite applause. His gaze is locked directly on you, so determined it almost scares you. He doesn’t halt when he makes it to your side, intertwining his fingers with yours and making a beeline for the door with you in tow.

“Wait, my champagne,” you whine, tossing it down your throat so you can leave the glass on a nearby ledge.

It’s a good thing the guests have mostly resumed their own conversations, hopefully too engrossed to notice. Unfortunately you have no doubt that Teppei notices–Kenma will deal with him eventually. An earful from his manager is worth it.

There’s a taxi five minutes away when Kenma requests it outside of the event building.

You nuzzle into his neck, no longer so cautious about being modest. You’re just proud of yourself that you managed to not tear his clothes off in front of everyone.

“You did so good, Ken,” you purr against him, dotting a kiss just above the collar of his shirt.

“Couldn’t have done it without you,” he says with a sly grin that’s barely there.

When the taxi arrives, Kenma helps you into the backseat and follows you inside. His hand settles onto your thigh, seemingly innocent, but the contact spreads a fire through your every muscle.

When you’re dripping with want, the ride feels like an eternity. You stare out the window the entire time and fiddle with the hem of your dress, an attempt to keep yourself sane until you get home. You wonder if Kenma is struggling the same as you, though you guess the way he dragged you out of his event says everything.

You make it home, finally, after thirty minutes which felt more like three hours. Kenma pays the driver, tips him too, then he walks you back to the house with a hand on your lower back.

The minute you get inside, your hands cling to the fabric of his blazer, pulling his face to yours–until he stops you. Your face drops, eyebrows pinching together and lips morphing into a pout.

“You can wait until we get to the bedroom,” he says, though in the moment it comes out more gentle than stern.

You huff, pulling your heels off as Kenma makes his way upstairs after already toeing his shoes off. You’re not sure if you’re the impatient one or him right now.

You tiptoe up the stairs, to your bedroom where Kenma’s sitting on the bed in anticipation. His eyes light up when he sees you again and he beckons you over with a flick of his hand. Your hands become clammy as you pace over to him to stand in between his legs, allowing him to gaze up at you from below.

You look beautiful. Gorgeous. Stunning. Every word that’s synonymous that Kenma can think of–is you. Of course, he thinks these things every single day, whether you’re groggy first thing in the morning or wearing a sheet mask with a cat ear hairband keeping your hair out of your face. But he hardly ever sees you like this. Dressed to the nines, all dolled up with glamour.

Yours. He has to remind himself. She’s all yours.

Maybe he’ll hold more company events. He’ll buy you a new dress for every one. Dresses that cling perfectly to your form and sit perfectly against your skin and make him want to melt into you and become one.

Kenma’s hands trace along the curves of your waist as you stand between his knees. He gazes up at you with a softness unlike anything you ever see from him, fingertips moving like he’s touching you for the first time. Unfortunately for him, you’re far too impatient for that. You bend forward, pulling him in by his tie so you can finally mould your gloss-coated lips to his. It’s soft, even as he presses his tongue into your mouth and tastes the lingering champagne you’d been drinking earlier. Already your knees weaken. Your entire face grows warm. His kisses are always overflowing with the affection he can’t tell you through words.

Your hands move of their own accord when you start to undress him. First, you push his blazer over his shoulders, helping him shrug it off before it lands on the hardwood. You’re crawling over him, kissing him with growing fervour, urging him back against the bed as your fingers make work of the tie you had tied for him and then the buttons of his shirt. As soon as his shirt is out of the way, your palms meet his smooth torso, sliding all the way up his chest until you’re clinging to his shoulders.

In return, Kenma’s lithe hands find the zipper of your dress, pulling it down gently, dragging the straps down your arms. You stand, letting the too-expensive garment fall until it pools around your feet. Kenma sits up, reaching behind you once more so he can unhook your strapless bra.

With your breasts exposed, Kenma’s gaze burns into you. It’s amazing how, even after years of being with him, you still crumble. It doesn’t help that his eyes are so revealing. There’s hunger in the way he takes you in, drinks you up until he’s intoxicated– he hasn’t even got to feel you yet. Lust swims in pools of gold, so overwhelming that you want to shrink, but then your chest swells with pure confidence. You have a man staring at you like you’re a deity, like he wants to give you the world (he would).

He tugs you gently by your wrist and you let yourself tumble towards the bed, where immediately Kenma props himself above you and his lips ambush your neck. You gasp as your lower belly erupts into tingles just from the way he licks and suckles softly at your skin, his lips soft and warm, each kiss telling you the same thing.

You jolt when his fingertips press against your cunt through your panties. He draws slow circles, but not to tease–he’ll work you up, nice and gradual, until you’re utterly dripping for him. Every motion of the pads of his fingers is deliberate, practised and perfected through all the years he’s had the chance to worship you. He’s adapted–evolved, even–to your body, becoming an expert in the things that make you writhe.

“Kenma…” you sigh while his mouth nibbles on your collarbone. And just like that, his fingers dip past the band of your panties, because for some reason tonight he’d rather die than not give you exactly what you want. Most nights he’s mean and relentless, refusing to give into your sweet pout and your wet, teary eyes, getting hard to the sound of your desperate, needy pleas like a sadist (and that’s a conversation he’s been thinking about how to bring up). Tonight, though, he’s giving you everything you want.

He touches your clit, pressing down as he rubs it in circles, still taking his time despite how his body is screaming for him to pin you down and stimulate you until you’re crying his name. He drags his fingertips through your silky folds, along your slit, grinning against your skin when he finds that you’re utterly drenched. It’s only ever been him that can make you wet this effortlessly, but it makes sense when everything he’s learned, he’s learned from you.

Kenma never cared enough about having a partner–too preoccupied with his hobbies–until you came along and decided to worm your way into every aspect of his life. Not that he would have stopped you, anyway. Being his first for everything meant that he never had to question “will she like this?” or “will she hate it?”, only you telling him precisely what you wanted him to do with you, and him doing that, and going beyond it too.

Kenma smears your slick all over your cunt and your entire faces grows hot because he’s so fucking lewd. He rubs it a few more times, then sinks two of his fingers into your hole and curls them up until he finds the sweet spot that has you moaning for him. At the same time, his lips latch onto one of your nipples and his free hand reaches up to squeeze your other breast, and already you think you’re starting to lose your grip on your sanity.

You hum as Kenma’s fingers glide in and out of your entrance. He’s patient, uncharacteristically so, dragging his digits along your walls like he’s only greeting them.

“More,” you keen, twisting your hand into the sheets below you. Heat pools in your belly, and though it’s hardly more than a flicker so far, you’re desperate. “Please, wanna cum…”

He pulls off your hardened nipple to scoff at you, but it’s far from genuine hostility.

“Stop being pushy,” he says, and for a moment his mouth twitches with a grin before he wraps his lips around the bud again.

You can only respond with a moan as he pushes his fingers back inside you, all the way until he’s knuckle-deep in your pussy this time and it’s so good that you give a long, airy whine. Your noises as he continues open you up on his fingers are so cute, he thinks. Sweet, honeyed moans that shoot straight down to his cock. He’s been hard for a while now, probably as soon as he stepped foot inside the front door, and since then his need has been building and building, and all he can think is how dizzying it’ll be when he can finally sink into the warmth of your cunt.

You’re practically dripping down Kenma’s wrist. Every push and pull of his fingers hits the perfect spot over and over, your toes curling and your fists clenching where they’re buried in the sheets. Arousal drools from your hole, slick, wet noises filling the air from your boyfriend’s ministrations. His lips smack as he sucks on your tits, watching them jiggle like a sick man every time pulls off one with a wet pop. He doesn’t even realise he’s moaning. It’s so quiet that it’s barely audible over the sound of your pussy, but the vibrations travel from the back of his throat to your skin as he licks and nibbles on you.

Feeling the way your pussy clenches around his digits, Kenma picks up the pace, shifting his position and now his cock, achingly hard, is pressed against your thigh. He’s flicking his wrist so brutally now that his entire arm moves and your body moves with it against his chest.

“R-right there, Kenma!” You’re panting, your hips bucking greedily in search of even more stimulation–all you need is a little more. “Please, I’m gonna cum,” you whine, unashamed in your begging.

“Yeah? All for me?” Kenma mutters, nuzzling his nose into your neck so he can nip at your skin again–he knows it drives you wild, and it does.

Within seconds, your pussy’s pulsing around Kenma’s fingers and a long moan pulls itself from your throat. Your muscles turn taut, your orgasm washing over you in ebbs that make your legs tremble.

“Pretty,” he remarks, pulling his fingers out slowly to rub your swollen clit. Then he brings them to your lips which part instinctively, and they wrap around them, and you suck. He presses down on your tongue, glazed eyes piercing into your dazed and shiny ones as he watches you swallow the taste of yourself.

“So pretty,” he reaffirms, then slides his digits out of your mouth and leans in to press his lips to yours. His tongue licks into your mouth, lapping up whatever is left behind because he’s parched and he’s selfish and he’s desperate to get a taste of you too.

Despite how your body is still limp and recovering from your first climax, you paw at Kenma’s crotch, shoving against him until he’s leaned back on his elbows and you’re the one who’s above him.

Now that you can see his face, you find that his cheeks are the prettiest shade of pink and his lips are glossy and a little puffy.

“Can I suck your dick, please?” you ask with your hand already halfway down his dress pants.

Kenma chuckles, low and sexy. He brings his hand to your burning cheek and strokes a thumb over your wet lips. He’s not thinking anything, just… admiring. Mine–that’s all he’s thinking. His cock jumps as you palm him through his boxers. In an instant he melts, not just from your touch, but from how pliant you are, how politely you asked him as though you even need permission, as though he wouldn’t destroy the planet just to feel your lips around his dick.

“Go ahead, baby,” he says with the last shred of control he has of his voice. After this, he’ll be a goner.

You scurry to pull his pants and boxers down his legs, letting him shuck them off while your hand wraps around his blushing cock. It’s enough to make his abdomen clench, though he’s always been sensitive. Your thumb grazes his slit where beads of precum ooze out and he hisses when you smear it down his length, gazing at him through your eyelashes as you start to pump your hand up and down. Leaning forward, you let a drop of spit dribble onto him, revelling in the way he throbs against your hand.

Your mouth starts to water at your boyfriend’s pretty, slicked-up cock. You think you’ve both had enough of your teasing, so you’re bending forward to drag your tongue from his base all the way to his swollen tip, flicking your tongue over the mushroom head. It’s all for show–one he doesn’t really even need right now seeing as he’s already two seconds away from releasing all over your face.

There’s a devious gleam in your eyes when you wrap your lips around him, sucking on the tip just a little. He’s gasping, fingers flying to the roots of your hair, and excitement boils inside you.

Your hand pumps him up and down at his base, over the tiny veins that decorate his length. Slowly your mouth works more and more of him every time you bob your head. Tears brim your eyes when you have the entirety of his cock shoved down your throat, eyes blurring with every movement.

Kenma is still, watching you take him down your little throat despite how much it resists, despite how you near-gag each time, despite how it cuts off your oxygen. He reaches forward, swiping his thumb at the corner of your mouth where a mixture of your saliva and his precum drools. He doesn’t realise he’s got his bottom lip tucked between his teeth and a dazed look in his eyes. All he knows is he’d do anything for you.

Kenma tosses his head back. He thinks if he keeps looking at you he’ll just blow–not yet, he can’t. He hasn’t even gotten to feel your pussy yet. He scrunches his eyes shut, taking steady breaths, until all that his mind can comprehend is the way your hot, slippery mouth wraps around his sensitive dick.

The ceiling above him spins as his cock bumps the back of your throat. Heat boils in your own belly, your eyes flicking up to catch his Adam's apple bobbing, one of his hands fisting into the sheets while the other tangles into your hair. His hips rut into your mouth absentmindedly, in tandem with your own as you search for stimulation again.

His thighs sting when your nails sink into his skin, shooting pinpricks of pleasure to his throbbing cock and he gasps. Any longer and it’s over, so he steadily pulls you off him by the roots of your hair, mesmerised by the webs of spit and precum that follow your lips as he does.

“I wanna be inside you now,” he says, a near growl that makes you shiver because it almost doesn’t sound like him. He tugs your face in towards his and kisses you with hunger, fingertips digging into your scalp as he holds you in place by your head.

You moan into his mouth, your entire body hot with desire. “Want you to fuck me, Kenma.”

He pulls away from your mouth fully, yanking your head back just an inch but it’s enough to make you yelp. He makes sure you’re staring straight into his eyes. Wants you to see how they’re darkening. You shudder under his stare, heart pounding, like you’ve done something wrong–you have. Forgotten a singular syllable.

“Please, Kenma. Fuck me, please.”

He gives a small, satisfied huff, pressing his lips to yours again for a fleeting moment–‘good job’. Kenma leans back then, sprawls himself out against the pillows at the top of the bed and pats his thighs.

“Come ‘ere,” he says, softly. You crawl over and settle yourself into his lap, his arms looping around your waist immediately as your crotch grinds against him.

Impatient, you reach between your sweat-slicked bodies to wrap your hand around his cock. Kenma dips his head to your chest, pressing wet kisses to your skin as you arch your back a little and guide him to your entrance, sighing when you start to sink down on him. He gives a tiny groan from the back of his throat as your pussy swallows him, inch by inch, until finally he’s fully seated inside you.

Your nails dig into his shoulder blades, your walls clamping around him and adjusting to the stretch. Being filled with him like this always knocks the breath out of you, makes you hungry for more and neither of you have even moved yet. It’s then that you shimmy your hips slightly and, in one fluid motion, rise up and drop back down in his lap.

“Fuck,” he pants, barely audible.

“Feels so good,” you hum, grinding your hips against him steadily, revelling in the way he pulses against your soft walls.

With your arms wrapped around one another, you quickly start to lose yourself. Your brain turns foggy, and all you know is your boyfriend’s flesh meeting yours, his length pressing deep into you and grazing everything sensitive. Your soft, whimpering noises are out of your control, and they’re music to Kenma’s ears.

His mouth lands on your chest, his puffy lips pressing soft kisses to your tits before he sinks his teeth into your skin ever so gently. A laugh bubbles in your throat, one that’s simultaneously half a moan.

“What?” he whispers, ghosting his fingers along your spine.

“You never let me do that,” you pout, thighs beginning to burn as you continue to bounce up and down in your boyfriend’s lap. You’re struggling to keep up the pace, clinging to Kenma a little harder with each plunge.

“You’re so annoying,” he says, strained, but when you look at his face his eyes are clouded over with affection.

You’re about to tease him again, but the next second, Kenma grasps you by your waist and flips you onto your back, all while staying seated inside you. In an instant your legs hook around his torso and he’s slamming his twitching cock into your cunt with abandon.

For a moment your mind blanks from the suddenness of it all. Kenma grazes the spot deep inside you that makes your back curve off the mattress, your chest pressing up against his and your legs tightening around his waist like letting go of him would mean death.

Your hands snake around the back of his neck, just holding him. His irises are brimming with everything–awe, tenderness, love.

He loves you. He’s not sure about a lot of things, but that’s the one thing he is sure of.

Kenma’s not just fucking you anymore. He’s connected with you, falling into you further and further with every thrust. And he’s indulging–when a soft, high moan leaves his mouth, he doesn’t stop it.

He rests his forehead against yours, hips still meeting yours with a small smack each time. His breath mingles together with yours, and for a moment he feels your soul touch his.

“Kenma…” you sigh, eyes brimming with tears as you grow desperate for release. The fire deep in your core burns so intensely, the heat spreading to your fingertips.

“I know,” he says, voice cracking as your walls clamp down on him, begging him to go deeper, pleading with him for more.

He obliges, angling his hips in a way that lets his cock drag against where you’re most sensitive, and that’s when you cry out. Kenma watches your eyes roll back, gazes at you as your face morphs into bliss, feels the hot pulsing of your cunt around him as you finally reach your climax.

Kenma’s thrusts stutter just a little from the sudden tightness of your walls, then your nails are dragging down his smooth back and he’s giving another obscene moan, one that turns his cheeks red. He drops to his elbows, still above you but now his head makes his home by the shell of your ear.

The breathy groans and whines he lets out send shivers down your spine, and that’s when you know he’s gone. He’s completely engulfed in pleasure, desperately chasing release. He groans your name out in a near-chant, and you reach up to rake your nails along his scalp at the nape of his neck–one of his weak spots.

“Fuck… fuck,” he sighs, voice breathy, his cock ramming relentlessly against your cervix. He’s abandoned all semblance of tenderness now, overtaken by a hungry, selfish urge. It’s contagious too, seeping from his skin into yours, leaving you aching to be filled up.

“Cum for me, Kenma?” you whimper over his ragged breathing, tugging at the roots of his hair. “Wanna feel you..”

“Y-yes, oh God,” he groans. “Gonna give you all of it, gonna make you all mine.”

Then with a few more trusts of his hips and a strained moan, he lets go inside you, warmth blooming through you with every spurt that dribbles into you. His pelvis is pushed flush against yours as he burrows himself as deep as he can inside you, like he’s trying to combine your bodies together. His teeth clamp down on your shoulder, a little harder than usual, as he ruts his twitching cock into you until he’s too sensitive to move.

Only a moment passes before Kenma reaches up to press his lips to yours. It’s so soft that each of you barely moves your lips, satisfied with just the sensation of one another.

“I love you,” you murmur into his skin.

“Love you,” he replies, words that are few and far between for Kenma, but when they come, you believe him with every fibre that’s in you.

Slowly he pulls out of you, both of you wincing, you at the emptiness and him at the loss of warmth. The sticky fluid that oozes out of you is a problem for later. Now, you’re both craving the same thing–to be tangled together. Kenma shifts to your side, still close, still searching for contact when his arm wraps around your waist and he buries his face into your hair and breathes in your scent.

There’s a buzz from the night stand–Kenma’s phone, more specifically.

“Could you grab it?” he asks. You do. And when you pick up his phone, the screen is lit up with a single text from his manager Teppei:

‘We need a word.’

You burst into laughter. Kenma’s grinning. He can’t find it in him to be bothered by it. He’s too busy thinking about what kind of ring he should get you.

dedicated to my hot sexy betas @ushiwhacka and @tetsutits <3

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