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ddejavvu · 1 month

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Spring Fling - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader (Part Three) (18+) / Part One | Part Two

Summary: You should have known the ‘no refunds’ detail on the website for Spring Fling was a red flag. But you paid no mind to it, eager to be assigned a quick fuck for spring break. When the man that walks through your cabin door is none other than Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, your wildly infuriating fellow pilot, you have two choices: bicker the entire time and have a miserable spring break, or fuck.

Contents/Warnings: smut, minors dni. fem!reader, pilot!reader, enemies/rivals to lovers, lots and lots of arguing, could these two people be any less cooperative, sex seven ways to sunday and then some, seriously like so much smut it'll make your eyes bleed, makeouts, rough sex, oral (m+f receiving), penetrative sex, will add as i post

WC: 6.9K / navigation / inbox

A/N: if you've been on my blog anytime since last year and you've heard me mention 'my big hangman fic', this is it! I've been working on Spring Fling for almost a year now, and I'm so excited to share it with you. I hope you enjoy this, and I'm glad so many new people are making their way into our top gun fandom because of twisters and Glen's role in it. Welcome, and enjoy!

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

Dinner is a tense affair, but by the end of it it feels less like walking on eggshells and more like walking around hard boiled eggs on the floor. There won’t be a goopy mess if you step wrong, but no one wants a squashed egg.

You and Jake seem to be getting on as friends, as long as you ignore all of the blatantly romantic elements of your current situation. You’re unfortunately subjected to a man beside you fingering his roommate beneath the table cloth, and you’re glad that Jake also agrees that despite being on a sex boat, that kind of thing is better done in private.

“Unless, of course, everyone’s into that,” He shoots you another one of his patented winks, and you delight in reaching across the table to steal the cherry off of his black forest cake.

“Hey! Oh, whatever,” He scoffs at your triumphant grin, reaching for his glass of wine. There’s not much left in the bottle; he’s a heavy pour and you didn’t bother counting his glasses- you just know he’s had more than one. His cheeks are just the slightest shade of pink, and you plan on snapping as many pictures as you can as soon as you can get him hazy enough to let you.

“Here, Hangman,” You feign kindness, taking hold of the bottle and trying to line the neck up with the rim of his glass despite him pulling away, “There’s only a little bit left, finish it off so you don’t waste your money.”

“No, ‘can’t.” He insists, gulping the rest of what’s in his glass in a manner rather contradictory to his words, “Gotta sober up again if we’re going out tonight.”

“I’m going out tonight,” You remind him firmly, finding woozy, pliant Jake much easier to talk to than sharp-as-a-tack Hangman, “You were all set to head to bed earlier; I thought you were some sort of kissing fiend on wine.”

“That’s why I’m soberin’ up, darlin’.” Jake drawls, and though he’s blinking slower than normal, his tone indicates that you’re the stupid one.

“Can’t be much of a security guard if my eyes are goin’ all dizzy,” He says, his tongue lazing into a southern twang that’s sharper when he’s oiled up with booze.

“Security guard?” You echo incredulously, “Hangman, what possessed you to think I’d need a security guard? I’m in the Navy, we both know how to aim between the eyes.”

“No, you know how to aim between the legs,” Jake licks the bitter wine residue from his lips, most likely tasting a sweet tinge of chocolate there, too, “I just don’t feel right leavin’ you with that Daniel guy.”

“He’s nice.” You speak with a tight clench to your teeth, and though you have to separate them to fit your dessert fork into your mouth, they still feel tense. You supplement the need to snap at him by grinding the pastry dough on your tongue into shreds with your molars. Perhaps you’re brutalizing your pie instead of enjoying it, but you’re not in much of a state to enjoy anything right now, except maybe liquor.

“If you’re not gonna drink this, I will,” You secede, waving the bottle at him, “If I’ve gotta spend the night with you I don’t wanna remember it.”

“Finally,” He scoffs, reaching now for his water glass where it’s sweating on the table cloth. His cold, calculating smooth-talk has been reduced to a petulant fit, “Only reason I bought the damn wine was for you, ‘then you had to make a big fuss about it, ‘n all of a sudden you’re suckin’ it down just ‘cause I’m gonna crash your little date later.”

“Yes, yes, it’s all very unfair, Hangman,” You drawl, the only thing stopping you from drinking straight from the bottle being the elegant setting around you, “I’m unreasonable and I think you should ask someone to switch roommates because you can’t stand me.”

“Oh, nice try,” He levels you with a glare, water beading at the corners of his lips as his hand trembles slightly around the glass, “That’s that reverse psychology bullshit. Nah, I can handle you. You jus’ need a good kiss, that’s all.”

Annoyance prickles in your chest; he’d been shaming you for kissing earlier, now he’s prescribing it?

“Oh, really? Do tell.”

“Mhm.” He nods, his eyes slipping shut as he braces his hand against his forehead, elbow on the table to support his weight. He looks pitiful- like he’d worked 14 hours and not like a man on vacation. Perhaps the water is working, loosening the effects of the sweet wine and leaving him drained in its wake.

“It would calm you down, I think.” He mumbles, somewhere hazy between sleep and wake, “Jus’ gotta arm wrestle Damien for it.”

“Daniel.”

“Whatever.”

Jake has mostly sobered up by the time that you’re all four bathed in multicolored strobe lighting one deck down from the restaurant. He’s sticking to strictly water now which is bringing his awareness back, but he has to take trips to the bathroom every ten minutes. You don’t mind- you appreciate having the time alone with Daniel.

“So,” He hums, hands framing your waist and chest pressed to your own, “He’s a little protective, isn’t he? You guys have a thing going on?”

“No thing.” You snap, “There’s no thing going on between us.”

“He acts like there is,” Daniel muses, and it’s somewhere between disappointed and resentful. But his hands never stray from your skin, so you hope it’s not directed at you.

“He just- he likes to be the best in everything,” You explain, the words escaping in a sigh, “You should see him in the cockpit, he’s insufferable. ‘Always has to win. I think that’s all it is, Daniel. And- for him to win, I’d have to lose. So I think he’s trying to bully you away from me, then he can boast about how I’m lonely and he’s not. He does it all the time back home.”

Daniel’s face curves into a frown, “He seems like a douche. ‘Like the kinda guy you should stay away from.”

“Trust me, I’m trying to stay away from him,” You scoff, tucking your nose against Daniel’s chest while the music lulls into a more heartfelt melody, “But for the next seven days we’re stuck on a boat together.”

“At least Danica likes him. Maybe we can unofficially swap.” Daniel nods towards his roommate, who’s now offering Jake a beer where he’s just exited the restroom.

You watch as he grins charmingly- the same one he’d leveled at you during dinner only an hour before, “No thanks, darlin’. I’ve gotta keep an eye on that one over there.”

The pair glance at you when Jake gestures, and you realize they’ve caught you staring when you hadn’t even realized you were doing it yourself. You press your face back against Daniel’s chest, a strange breed of embarrassment heating your cheeks.

“You can drink,” You call to Jake, agonizing as you’d rather keep your voice to a low murmur against Daniel’s ear, “I don’t need to be babysat.”

At that exact moment the four shots you’d done of something they’d promised you was mild all flood to your ankle and weaken it so that it gives out under your weight. You stumble, your foot bending awkwardly as you shriek, gravity trying its best to drag you down to the scuffed floor.

Daniel’s eyes widen but he works quickly, and his strong arms brace against your back as he keeps you pressed tight to his chest. He glances over your shoulder at Jake who’d lunged forwards to catch you, and there’s a tightness in his jaw, a hardness in his eyes as he straightens up that spells irritation close to bursting. Daniel smirks at him.

“What were you saying?,” Daniel chuckles, letting you ease your hands off of him where you’d gripped tight to his biceps, “I’d make a ‘falling for me’ joke but it’d be so bad I’d throw myself overboard afterwards.”

“Sorry,” You bemoan the surely stinging handprints on Daniel’s toned biceps, “I didn’t mean to- aah,” You hiss, gingerly raising your tweaked ankle, “I rolled it or something, I’ll- ooh, I’ll be back. Just gonna ask the bartender for some ice.”

Both men step forwards to brace your weight against theirs- even Danica offers her hand, but you wave them off with a sheepish laugh.

“I’m okay, guys, really. I can walk, it just-” You wince, a twinge of pain shooting through your ankle, “It just hurts a bit. I’m gonna go sit in the bathroom for a minute with the ice on it, ‘see what that does.”

Daniel looks hesitant to leave you, but he lets you hobble to the counter. The bartender looks suspicious of your request at first, like you’re somehow cheating him out of profit by asking for six ice cubes in a plastic bag. But one glance down at your elevated ankle gets him moving, and he wraps it once in a paper towel before passing it over the counter.

The bathroom counter is not an ideal resting spot, but it does give you a chance to glance at your makeup in the mirror. It’s mostly in-tact, but you note that your lipstick has faded some, partially from pressing it to the rim of your glass and partially from pressing it to Daniel’s own mouth. You’d shared a few more dizzying kisses on the dance floor, and they make your rolled ankle worth it a thousand times over.

The ice bleeds condensation through the towel after only a few minutes, and you turn the package so the dry side is now pressed to your sore limb. You hear footsteps and you ensure that your dress is draped over your lap- sure it’s a sex cruise but no one wants to see you on display, and glance at the doorway to see who’d come in through the hall.

It’s Jake.

In the women’s bathroom.

“Hey!” You scoff, glaring at him while your fingers numb with cold, “Get out of here, you creep. This is the women’s bathroom.”

“I know. But you’re treating it like a hospital, so I’m gonna do the same. How’s your ankle?” He glances towards your foot braced on the counter, “Dalton can’t be that good of a dancer if he’s steppin’ on your feet the whole time.”

“First off, it’s Daniel. Second, I didn’t roll my ankle because he stepped on me, I rolled it because I’m drunk.”

A satisfied smile flits over Jake’s face, “So you do need babysitting, then?”

You neglect to respond verbally in favor of trying to melt his face off with your glare. It doesn’t work- in fact, his own expression only gets brighter.

“So, whaddya say we just drop right down on the tile and go for it?” He offers, gesturing towards the dingy bathroom floor, “Or- this counter might work,” He leans forwards to brace his biceps against it, shaking to no avail as the fixture stays tight.

“Oh, yes, that would be very comfortable,” You gripe.

“It could be.”

“Get out, Hangman.” You grimace, shifting the ice against your ankle, “I just wanna freeze this pain away and get back out there, and I think your presence is somehow making it hurt worse.”

“You really know how to make a man feel special,” He cocks his head slightly, leaning against the counter and glancing at your ankle, “Is it throbbing?”

“No. Just stings a bit.” You grumble, keeping your eyes off of his dress shirt and the way he’s rolled the sleeves up. It’s a pretty color, nice against his tan skin.

“Right.” He murmurs, voice similarly soft as the music leaks in muffled through the walls.

“You can go,” You nod towards the door, “I think Danica really likes you. Which is weird, because she’s heard you open your big fat mouth, and that’s usually what sends ‘em running.”

Jake rolls his eyes in an excellent impression of Penny’s daughter Amelia now that she’s in the throes of teenagedom.

“Anyways, you should go and drink with her. Have fun,” You offer, hesitantly kind to him, “You might as well get lucky even if you got stuck with a prudish roommate.”

“You’re not prudish,” He narrows his eyes at you, “You and Devon dry-humped in an elevator.”

“Daniel!”

“You didn’t even deny it,” Jake mock-gasps, “I bet the two of you were rubbin’ up on each other-”

“Get out.”

“-from decks 1-8. Hey, what’s that Ed Sheeran line that Rooster likes? Up and comin’ like I’m fuckin’ in an elevator?”

“Get out!”

Your ice pack doubles as an excellent projectile, but Jake was raised with older sisters, and is fantastic at dodging things flying towards his face.

He catches it with that infuriating grin he’s always shooting at you, and he tosses it into the trash while extending his other hand as an offering towards you.

“C’mon, Roger Clemens, let’s get back out there, shall we? Or are you too drunk to stand?”

“I can stand,” You insist, ignoring his hand and sliding off of the counter onto your feet, though one protests the weight with a sharp jolt of pain up your leg.

“Sure,” He scoffs, once more rolling his eyes skyward as he grabs hold of your bicep anyways, hoisting part of your weight onto him, “Let’s just get outta here before a gaggle of you ladies decide they’re all going to the bathroom together. Why do you do that, by the way?”

“Oh, I dunno. Maybe because men have a habit of wandering in despite the clear sign on the door that says Women’s.” You glare up at him, but you let him help you hobble out of the bathroom.

“I go where I’m needed. You needed a medic,” He shrugs, angling you towards one of the barstools so that you can rest your weight again, “And you needed someone to tell you to stay away from that David guy.”

You snap your eyes shut instead of correcting Jake yet again, instead focusing on why he’s being particularly dickish this evening.

“Why do you care so much? He’s a nice man, why are you so angry that we’re connecting?”

“Because I don’t think he’s a nice man,” Jake’s face scrunches in a frown packed with judgment, “He defiled you in an elevator and he’s leaving his roommate high and dry.”

“No he’s not,” You scoff, “They’re dancing right now!”

You jab a finger towards the pair now pressed together on the dance floor, ignoring the newly familiar tinge of jealousy in your chest when you see Daniel’s hands pressed to Danica’s waist just the same as they’d been to yours. It’s fine. You’re on a sex cruise; he signed a lot of contracts but monogamy wasn’t one of them.

“That’s worse,” Jake sneers, his hand sliding from your bicep to your back to steady you on the barstool, “He’s not loyal to either of you.”

“I don’t need his loyalty.”

“That’s not right. You should want loyalty. You don’t see me chatting up everyone’s roommates, do you?”

“You’re certainly friendly with Danica! And I don’t need your loyalty either, Jake!” You gush, voice raising, “Loyalty is for relationships! This is sex! Heated, messy, sloppy, dirty sex!”

Jake’s eyes dim of their usual fire, but you wouldn’t know it by the way his grin stays plastered in place. Then, slowly, bitterly, it fades, and he looks away towards a water ring on the surface of the bar, “Sex ain’t all there is in life. One day you’ll want loyalty.”

Your indignant laugh comes immediately, “Hangman, I can’t believe you of all people are lecturing me on loyalty. You’ve cycled through every tourist that makes the unfortunate mistake of wandering too close to the naval base. You’re not even loyal to your friends, why do you think we call you Hangman?”

The fire in his eyes is back, but it’s hot and not warm. Low blow. Maybe if you weren’t so drunk you wouldn’t have said it.

His jaw is tight when it opens for him to spit, “That’s ‘cause I ain’t got a girl I wanna be loyal to. And- and that Hangman shit is old, I don’t leave you hanging anymore. Not in the air, and not on the ground. Not after-”

Neither of you say it, but you both remember the sheer terror you’d felt when Bradley had gone down trying to save Maverick. How Jake had begged to be launched in a search and rescue, how they’d held him back until they were certain the two pilots were already on their way back. Like they didn’t want to risk one man to save two. Like Jake’s pleading wasn’t proof enough that they were more than just soldiers, more than just numbers, that they were people, too. You owe him that; he’d shown loyalty there, even if his pride had been hurt. Perhaps that proves his ego doesn’t win out, even if its what he likes to display.

“Fine.” You murmur, biting your cheek, “But- but just stay out of this, okay? If I wanna fool around with someone then I can, doesn’t matter if he won’t be here after this cruise is over.”

Jake’s face sours impossibly further, “Fine.”

He storms off through the crowd, and there’s a handprint-shaped cold spot on your back.

You scoff at his dramatic display, but before the bartender serves you the drink you order in a huff, Daniel comes weaving towards you through the crowd.

“He asked to swap,” Daniel informs you, “And he called you my ‘side chick’.”

“I’m gonna kill him,” You take a bitter sip of your drink, eyes widening at the strength, “Oh, god, if I can even aim.”

“Aim?” Daniel asks, slight trepidation clouding his features, “You gonna punch him?”

“Nah, I’ll shoot him down in a fighter jet.”

It draws a laugh out of Daniel, and you enjoy the rich, warm sound. It sounds a little how your drink tastes, but it’s not as sour.

It’s just as intoxicating, though, and you let it make you dizzy as he takes your hands and spins you on the barstool to the rhythm of the music, dancing with you as much as you’re capable of.

“I think she’s one drink away from falling off of that stool,” Danica muses, and Jake’s eyes snap to her own where her head reaches his shoulder.

“What? Y/N?”

“Yeah. You’ve been staring at her for the last six songs.”

“Sorry.” Jake grimaces, “I didn’t mean to zone out.”

“It’s fine.” She pats his chest and god, it’s pathetic and oozing with pity, “She was giving you a hard time earlier?”

“She’s always giving me a hard time. Can’t just let me help her, she’s gotta make a big stink of everything.”

“Mm-hm,” She nods along, and Hangman begins wondering if this is how people feel when they speak to him. Patronized and condescended.

“Well, I don’t think she’s capable of giving you a hard time anymore,” She narrows in on the way you’re slumped against Daniel’s shoulder, face stretched into a permanent lazy grin, “You wanna head out for the night and get her to bed before she passes out?”

“I dunno,” Jake shrugs, but his eyes never leave your slouched frame, “I’m having a nice time dancing with you, doll.”

“No you’re not.”

He turns to her, brows furrowed, “What?”

“No,” She repeats, but there’s mirth in her voice instead of reprimand, “You’re not. You’re worried about her. You two are friends?”

“Something like that.” Jake hums, but pointedly never denies her accusations, “She’s just- pardon me for speaking ill of your roommate, Danica, but I don’t want him messing around with her.”

“Mm. So you’re her father?”

“No,” Jake’s face wrinkles, and he tugs his arm an inch tighter around her waist, “We’re friends like you said. Sort of. The kind of friends that are always at each other’s throats, y’know the type.”

“Oh. So fuckbuddies.”

“No,” Jake laughs, and it eases out some of the worrisome creases in his face, puts new, happier ones in his skin instead, “See, I suggested that this cruise partnership was a work’a fate, that it’d give us a chance to blow off some of our steam, but she won’t have it. So now I’m just a glorified babysitter.”

“Ooh, so you’re not even in the friendzone,” Danica grimaces, a dry smile on her face, “Well, Jake, for what it’s worth, I think she’s lucky to have you as a roommate. And as whatever sort of friend you are to her.”

Jake nods tersely, head still turned to watch the way Daniel keeps you upright with an arm around your waist.

“She said-” Jake starts, then remembers he’s talking to a woman he barely knows, then remembers he’s got nothing to lose, “She said all this shit earlier about me not being loyal. Reliable, trustworthy, all that. And- I wasn’t, okay? I was a… not so great person. For longer than I’d like to admit. But,” His throat feels tight now, and it tenses in his jaw as Danica listens, “I’m not like that anymore. And I haven’t been for long enough for her to notice. If she’s lookin’, that is. Which- I guess she’s not. But I just thought maybe- I thought maybe she’d see it and we could be different. I still wanna tease her, of course. But at dinner she told me she thought I was just trying to ruin this for her. And I’m not,” His eyes gleam, not with tears but with something close and soulful as he blinks into Danica’s eyes, “I’m trying to make it better. I’m trying to make it the week of her life. The week of both of our lives. I’m just…” He hesitates, weighing the word on his tongue, “I’m afraid she won’t let me.”

Danica squeezes gently at his bicep through his dress shirt, and briefly mourns that the beefiest man on this ship is 100%, prime-time in love with you. She’d have loved to spend a night with him, but she kisses her chances goodbye as she smiles sweetly at Jake.

“You’re a good friend. You’re a very good friend, Jake. You’re trying to be very good at being much more than a friend. But she’s not seeing it, right?”

Jake nods, and she mimics the action, “So you need to show her. Show, not tell. Even if she’s resistant, even if she tries to gripe at you, it’s because she’s still seeing the man you used to be. And hey, maybe she won’t want the man you’ve become, even if you worked hard on becoming him. But there’s no reason to throw up your hands now, is there? Let her see the real you, then she’ll decide whether she’s willing to have you. Be patient. It’s all up to her in the end, so be this new-and-improved version of yourself, and she’ll take care of the rest. Okay? Remember, you’re a good friend.”

Jake nods at her reassuring words, steeling himself for a week of patience that he doesn’t typically possess.

Danica continues through the silence, “Aaand a good friend would make sure she gets back to her cabin before she blows chunks all over her hookup’s shoes, right?”

“Oh.” Jake’s eyes widen momentarily as his head jerks towards you - he’s only ever seen you upchuck twice before, both times after rowdy nights out with the group, but he is noticing a familiar pudge to your cheeks that can’t spell anything good. He’s tempted to let you ralph all over Daniel, teach you a lesson about mouthing off to people that are only trying to be nice- but that’s what pre-dagger squad Hangman would have thought. That’s old Hangman, the aviator who’d have sold his wingman out for fame and glory. Now he’s an entirely different Hangman, the one with a rope around his neck that tightens each time Daniel squeezes the pudge of your hip.

“Thanks, Danica,” He breaks away from her embrace with a kind, chaste smile, none of his usual toothy sleaze, “Hey, uh- enjoy your night with Daniel. Careful, though: I’ve heard he does terrible things in elevators.”

“I’ll keep it in mind!” She calls, her voice a melodious laugh as she waves goodbye at him, “Straight to bed, Jake! And leave water on the nightstand!”

“This ain’t my first rodeo,” He’s happy to let his southern drawl take over, nodding at her with a wink before spinning around to face you.

Daniel glances up at him, and his attempt at keeping a neutral expression over his face is valiant, but some of the wariness seeps through in the way that his arm tightens almost imperceptibly around your shoulders. Your eyes are desperately trying to stay open but they still lock onto Jake no problem, and you raise both of your eyebrows in what Jake is certain was an attempt to only raise one.

“Yes, Hangman?” You ask, your voice thick with booze, “You need somethin’?”

“You look like you’re about to need a trashcan,” Jake tentatively reaches for you, “C’mon, it’s gettin’ late. We should head back to the cabin for the night.”

Jake expects another jab about the nature of the cruise, but what he gets is drunken compliance, an easy reach of your hand for his own and a mumbled, ‘kay’.

“Hold on,” Daniel catches your waist, keeping you suspended between them, “You sure you can get her back okay?”

There’s a sharp tilt to his brow that makes Jake think Daniel’s not questioning whether he’s strong enough to carry you. The thought both offends and disgusts Jake, and he takes pleasure in swatting Daniel’s arm away from your hips to tug you into his embrace.

“She’s safe with me,” Jake scoffs, “But your roommate’s gettin’ lonely out there, Dallas.”

“It’s Dominic,” You gripe, the stench of liquor hitting Jake full-force now that your face is only inches away from his own, your forehead bumping his jaw.

Daniel hadn’t found Jake’s jab to be very funny, but a smile quirks the corners of his mouth at your slip-up, and he finally lets you go with a pat to the hip.

“You can call me any name you want, Y/N,” He offers, but his eyes pass darkly over Jake’s tense face, “So long as it’s not Jake.”

“No, no, he’s- he’s Jake.” You jab a sharp finger into Jake’s chest and he flinches back slightly, hissing at the contact.

“Good memory, darlin’.” Jake commends you, “Now let’s head for the elevators, m’kay?”

“I love elevators,” You sigh, no doubt remembering the feverish embrace you’d shared in one only hours prior, “Daniel, are you coming too?”

His face turns down in visible pain and he shakes his head, “No, I’m not. I’m gonna go find Danica - she’s probably looking for me.”

“She’s probably found someone else by now,” Jake laughs, haughty and biting, “I wouldn’t wait around for someone if they were hellbent on fooling around with someone else.”

“Really?” Daniel speaks like he’s snapping at Jake, gnashing and snarling like a fighting dog, “It seems like that’s exactly what you’re doing.”

The weight of your head slumped in the juncture between Jake’s neck and shoulder feels like shackles.

For a moment the two men stare at each other, and if you weren’t slowly losing consciousness between them, they might have given into their tension-fueled urge to scrap like feisty teens. But you release a soft, tender sigh against Jake’s chest, and he hikes his arm up under your thighs instead.

“‘Gonna lift you, darlin’.” He informs you, waiting only a second before he scoops you into a bridal hold. Your head is quick to loll backwards at a grotesque angle, and before Jake can balance you out, Daniel reaches over to assist.

“Here, honey,” The man croons, nestling your head against Jake’s bicep, and he watches in abject horror as Daniel leans down to press his lips to your forehead, “We’ll see each other tomorrow, okay? I’ll find you.”

Jake is desperate to know whether your responding smile is dreamy from the liquor or from the sight of his face, “Mm, okay, g’night.”

“Night,” Daniel murmurs fondly, and Jake is all too happy to drag you away from him.

“Slow down,” You plead when Jake is ten steps out of the bar and beelining for the elevators, “I’m gonna spew.”

“Not on me, please,” Jake jolts to a stop in the middle of the hallway, noting the rhythmic rocking motion of the boat and cringing, “Can I go for the elevator?”

“Slowly,” You mumble, and evidently you hadn’t heard his begging by the way you nestle your nose into his chest.

Upon hearing the ding of the elevator your eyes snap open, and you seem horrified despite having heard the word mere seconds before.

“Wait. No elevator.”

“What?”

“No elevator. Please, I can’t- ugh,” You groan, leaning away from Jake to hang your face over the ground beside him, “I can’t take the pressure of moving up in an enclosed space.”

“Well we’re one floor away from our room, how do you expect me to get you up there?” Jake gripes.

Approximately thirty seconds later he’s hauling you up a flight of agonizingly shallow stairs.

“This is bullshit.” Jake scoffs, “Should’ve had Daniel do this.”

“Dean,” You correct him, “His name is Dean.”

“No it’s not!” Jake laughs incredulously, rounding the corner to the second half of the staircase, “See, if you can’t even remember his name, you shouldn’t be foolin’ around with the guy.”

“What’s the name of the last woman you took home, Hangman?” You shoot him a glare with narrowed eyes where you’re still held in his arms, and he stops in his tracks to shoot you a menacing glance of his own while his chest heaves from exertion.

“Touche. That’s why I stopped foolin’ around with her, though. Couldn’t care enough to remember.”

“You never care,” You grumble groggily, and Jake tugs the both of you up the remaining four steps until he’s on your cabin’s level.

Your words are slashing relentlessly at a wound that’s been gaping for longer than Jake can remember. He thinks it's worse when you’re drunk- you’re shitfaced enough to forget your new boytoy’s name, but you still remember how shallow and vapid of a person Jake used to be.

“Right now, I care very deeply that you’ve got your room key with you. Or that you can reach mine; whichever works. You got it on you, darlin’?”

“This dress doesn’t have pockets,” You lament, “Where’s yours?”

“Uh.” Hangman glances over his shoulder, “Back pocket.”

Alcohol courses through your veins in the same quantity blood does when you reach with no inhibition for Hangman’s ass.

Jake’s eyes widen as he feels your fingers prodding and poking liberally around his dress pants, finally finding the pocket and slipping inside. He stays frozen solid at the door while you root around for his phone, finally pulling it out and squinting to focus on it as you bring it towards your face.

“Room key,” You pull out one of his debit cards out of the sleeve on the back, handing it to him expectantly.

“Uh- no, not exactly,” He strains to keep you suspended- he’s starting to wonder if you’ve got more muscle mass than he does, “The red one in the front, Y/N, that’s the room key. And I don’t have a hand to unlock the door with, so you’ll have to do that yourself.”

You toss his debit card onto the floor like it’s garbage.

“Hey! That’s- oh, just get the key.” He kicks it forwards, keeping it propped against the toe of his shoe while he waits for the door to open.

“Got it,” You drawl, and this time you’re right. You lean forwards without waiting for Hangman to move with you, and he nearly drops you where you’re aiming the keycard for the slot on the lock.

“Jesus, just- stick it in!” Hangman snaps, eyes on his debit card still discarded on the floor, “Let’s hope you never use a strap-on, you’ve got terrible aim.”

“I got it,” You grunt and a green light flashes while the lock clicks open. You manage to jiggle the door handle until the heavy slab of wood swings open, and Hangman is glad you’d remembered to leave a light on before you’d left.

He takes his final steps towards the bed and sets you down on the side he’d left open earlier. You’re too shitfaced to remember that you were vehemently opposed to sleeping in the bed earlier, and he’s glad for it when you sink willingly into the mattress, eyes fluttering closed, lashes resting over your cheeks.

“Hang on, ‘gonna get you some water. You- uh, change while I’m gone.”

He ambles off to the bathroom, and when he hears rustling outside the door he shuts himself inside to give you privacy. He decides to change into his own sleeping clothes, but it’s less of an outfit and more of a strip tease until he’s standing on the cool tile floor in nothing but boxers. He hadn’t planned on wearing much of anything for the entire week, and he definitely hadn’t packed sleeping clothes.

He fills a glass of water and knocks briefly on the inside of the bathroom door, “Hey Y/N, I’m coming out, m’kay?”

There’s no reply.

He assumes you’d shout at him if he tried barging in on you changing- in fact, you had only hours prior. He takes your silence as permission to exit the bathroom, but when he finds you curled up in bed, your dress is still on.

Evidently you hadn’t been changing.

“Y/N,” He groans, reaching out to prod tentatively at your shoulder, “No, don’t do this to me. Wake up, c’mon.”

Your eyes are firmly shut, glued there by booze.

“Shit.”

Jake sets the water on your square nightstand, ankles sturdy despite the rocking motions of the boat. He’s well used to being at sea, and it doesn’t make him unstable as he leans over to inspect your sleeping face. He can see your eyes flitting this way and that, barely covered by the thin skin of your lids, and he marvels at your drunken ability to knock out like you’ve been concussed mere minutes after hitting the mattress.

He lifts your arm and when he lets go it falls pathetically over your chest - there’s no waking you.

“Okay,” Jake grimaces, reaching for one of the straps of your dress, “For the record, I don’t wanna be doin’ this.”

“If you were awake you’d be yellin’ at me for breathing towards you,'' Jake rambles, a running dialogue making him feel slightly better about stripping you naked in your sleep, “But if you wake up tomorrow in this deathtrap you’re gonna be pissed, so I’m doin’ what I think is best. I swear it’s not a ploy to stick my hand down your shirt.”

And- speaking of sticking his hand down your shirt, he has to ruck the fabric of your dress up and over your breasts to slide it off of your head, “Aaand, there they are, and they’re out now, and that bra looks really uncomfortable, so I’m gonna-”

Jake slides his hands beneath your back, locating the series of clasps easily.

“Please don’t kill me,” Jake begs, blinking up at the ceiling as his neck aches with the way he cranes his head upwards, “I’m not lookin’, I swear.”

He peels your pushup bra off of your chest, and the fabric is warm where he tosses it in the vague direction of your suitcase. He wants nothing more than to linger on that, to press his hand to the pad that had just cupped your flesh and let the warmth travel south. But he is a Southern gentleman, and you’re sleeping, and the bra remains discarded in the hallway.

“Right. Now the pajamas,” He continues his stream of consciousness if only to reassure himself that he’s not a creeping perv in the darkness of your cabin, “For both of our sakes, Y/N, I hope you packed better nightwear than I did.”

Upon discovering nothing but lacy chemises neatly folded among your other clothes, he gnaws at the inside of his cheek.

“Okay. Don’t go gripin’ at me in the morning for sticking you in one of these things. It was your poor packing skills that led us here.”

He plunges a hand into your suitcase and comes out with a red lacy contraption. He feels, to his own incredulity, a blush rising over his cheeks, as if he’s a teenage boy thumbing through a porn mag and not a decorated naval aviator. He drops the red thing, and reaches for something less sinful. What he finds next is a softer pink garment, silky and longer than the red- though he’s sure it’ll only barely cover your ass. All he wants is to cover his own, though, to make sure he won’t be in trouble for cramming you into a sexy getup while you’re passed out drunk, and the pink is looking better than the red for that purpose. Although- Jake has to admit, the pink is sexy in its own right. It’s soft, and smooth, and delicate, and he’s getting uncomfortable down south so he really needs to stop staring at it.

“Pink it is, darlin’.” He hums, “Hope you don’t mind. Maybe when we dock you can find something a little more conservative. Up you go,” He slides a hand beneath your back, his eyes trained dutifully on your forehead and absolutely nothing down below, “Hope y’don’t mind your hair getting a little messy. I think you scruffed it up when you hit that banister earlier, anyways.” Technically, that had been equal parts yours and his fault. He’d been carrying you, so he could have been a little more careful about swinging you this way and that as he’d navigated the ships’ halls, but you kept reaching out to touch things, and you’d collided square with a metal post in your curiosity. He bunches up the chemise and slides it over your head, careful not to scrape the lace over what little of your lip gloss remains. He doesn’t want to add staining your clothes to the list you’ve surely got of all his transgressions against you.

It’s rather hard to dress you blindly, and his hand does accidentally dip between your tits as he tries settling the material against your skin. He jerks it away like it’s burnt, hissing as his eyes widen where they’re staring at a particularly boring ceiling light.

“Accident. It was an accident. I swear.” He vows, hoping against hope that you’ll stay sleeping as he clumsily dresses you.

“Christ,” He yanks the material down your thighs, settling the chemise into place, “‘Knew how easy it was to take one off’a woman, never knew how hard it was to put it on. I think,” He muses, blinking long and hard before peering down carefully at you. You’re fully clothed, “That’s good. Okay. Done.”

The silence in the room is deafening now that he doesn’t need to keep up a stream of dialogue to soothe his fraying nerves, and his footsteps seem to pound against the cabin floor as he rounds the bed to his own side. There’s plenty of room, but he still feels like he’s sinning - crawling into bed beside your sleep-limp, pink satin-swathed form in nothing but his boxers.

With one click of the remote beside his bed the lights turn off, and there’s no sound besides the ship’s motor to distract him from the gentle inhales and exhales of your peaceful breathing. He licks his lips, settles into his typical sleeping position, sniffles briefly, fiddles with his hands, lifts a leg up to stretch his muscles, readjusts his neck on the pillow, clears his throat, wriggles his toes beneath the blankets, itches his nose, and comes to terms with the fact that he’s unable to sleep. Something’s not right, and he thinks little before he turns to his opposite side to see if sleep will meet him there.

It doesn’t, but your face does.

His neck stiffens and he nearly rears his head back when his nose brushes against your own, your warm breath fanning over his face. He snaps his eyes shut and breathes deeply himself, lashes fluttering when he deems himself brave enough to open his eyes again.

You’re there, looking like sleep was made for you the way it lulls your face into peace and erases the wrinkles Jake puts around your nose and mouth. There’s no longer the prominent frown lines that you’re always sporting around him, and your lips are blessedly relaxed, almost pouting with the way your cheek is squished into the pillow instead of disapprovingly downturned in his direction.

The silence suffocates him, rushing into Jake’s ears and clogging them until tv static fills his brain. The only words he can form, the only thing he’s capable of doing is murmuring a gentle, “Goodnight, Y/N,” In a voice far softer than he’s ever aimed towards you before.

Then he turns, rolling back onto a shoulder that aches from carrying your phantom weight, and shuts his eyes for the night.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

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stervrucht · 25 days

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🧠🪱 Wiggly Wednesday 🧠 🪱

Thank you for the tag @just-my-latest-hyperfixation 🧡

Today I’m thinking about this ridiculous story of a friend of mine, who, after she thought she’d been ghosted, proceeded to hold a cremation by burning the guy’s picture, only to receive a text right after.

“Where are we going, Eddie?”

Dustin’s tone is starting to grate on his nerves and Eddie needs to take a deep breath to calm his voice before responding.

“I told you, a small detour.”

“Through the woods? What about the guitar lessons?”

“Yes, through the woods," Eddie snaps.

He doesn’t even have to look to his side to know Dustin is pouting. Despite that, the little guy still follows him, ducking underneath the brush as they make their way to Skull Rock.

He didn’t tell Dustin—doesn’t think there’s an adequate way to explain that this was what he did whenever he was dealing with a serious bout of heartbreak. That—because Steve Harrington hadn’t been answering his phone and clearly dumped Eddie without the courage to say so to his face—Eddie now needed to initiate the Cremation Stage.

Yeah, you heard that right.

It first happened three years ago, after Stacy Morgan landed on him during a game of spin-the-bottle and cried after kissing him. That one kinda stung.

After a bit of dumb back and forth, he and Gareth decided to cut her picture from the yearbook and held a stupid little funeral—speeches and all. After they were done and said their goodbyes, they burned the picture. It made him feel better. So much so, that it became a dumb little habit.

One he hadn’t executed that often, really.

Which is why it sucks so much he is off to Skull Rock, the place he first kissed Steve Harrington against the expectations of everyone ever, to burn his stupid picture.

When they finally reach Skull Rock, Eddie digs through his pockets and pulls out his Zippo and Steve’s picture. Dustin leans over his shoulder, knees digging into the back of Eddie’s arm as he leans over to watch.

“Why do you have a picture of Steve?”

“Because.” Eddie strikes the Zippo, trying to make it catch flame, but the old thing is protesting.

“Because why?”

The stupid thing still won’t catch. Eddie strikes his thumb over the wheel with a little more aggression—pulls his lips into a thin line, frustration pulling at his gut. “Because I need to burn it.”

“Why?”

Eddie throws his hands. “Because I have to okay! Because—”

Because Steve’s finally realized Eddie was a mistake. And Eddie knew the day would come. He was just pushing his head in the sand like a fucking ostrich, hoping he could enjoy what little time Steve was willing to give him. He just hoped Steve would have had the guts to actually say so to his face.

He can’t tell Dustin any of that though.

Finally, the Zippo produces flame and Eddie holds the corner of Steve’s yearbook picture near it. It takes a few seconds, but soon enough the picture engulfs into flames and Eddie has to drop it between the twigs and dried leaves. He allows it to burn for a few seconds until the leaves around it start to smolder. He quickly kills the flame with his shoes and once he removes his feet, only ash is left of what was once an image of Senior Steve.

Eddie pulls himself into a standing position and slips the Zippo back into his pocket.

“All done.”

“Dude, that was so weird.”

“No, it wasn’t. And don’t tell Steve about this.”

Dustin raises an eyebrow at him but probably senses it’s best to not push it.

“Can we go play guitar now?”

“Yeah, man, whatever. Let’s go.”

A little while later, Eddie sits in Dustin’s bedroom, his guitar in his lap as he shows Dustin some chords to Metallica. The little dude learns fast, last week's chords already dexterously mastered. A little more and he’ll be playing his first full song. Now, just to get a feeling for it, he makes Dustin play the same five chords as base while Eddie plays the more complex parts of the song.

He’s actually starting to get into it when the doorbell to the Henderson residence rings.

“Really, now?” Dustin lets out a frustrated sigh and puts his guitar down on his bed. “I’ll be right back.”

Eddie hums and continues picking at the snares. Mumbles along to the song until he hears Dustin return to the room.

“Oh, hey Eddie.”

Eddie looks up. That didn’t sound like Dustin. That sounded like—

“Steve.” Eddie is staring at Steve standing in Dustin’s doorframe. Can’t do anything else than stare because an hour ago, he cremated Steve.

And now he’s here.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Steve lets out a little laugh. And it’s not the ‘oh shit I ran into my ex’ kind. It’s the genuine kind. The fond kind.

Dustin pushes himself past Steve into his bedroom. “I told you, I’d give it back to you on Monday,” he complains.

Steve rolls his eyes, watching with amusement as Dustin digs through his closet.

“W—where have you been?” Eddie hardly dares to ask. He tries to keep the tremble out of his voice.

“Ugh, my parents man. They took me on some campus visits to fancy universities. Didn’t give me any warning either. It sucked balls.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, not great. How have you been holding up with this asshat the past few days.” Steve looks back to where Dustin is now clearing the lower levels of his closet.

“I heard that!” he calls back.

“I…I’ve been doing just dandy.” Eddie shoots Steve a little smile, and yes, that’s definitely fondness in Steve’s face. God, he’s such an idiot.

A total overreaction.

When Dustin rears his head from the closet, proudly holding a cassette tape, Eddie thinks he needs to make sure Dustin takes this little Skull Rock detour to the grave.

---

No pressure tags for @sleepy-steve @spectrum-spectre @runninriot @wheneverfeasible @eddiethebrave

#steddie #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #my fics #wiggly wednesday #ster writes steddie

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dollfacefantasy · 1 year

Text

Blue Jeans

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: request from @agent-dessis-posts - leon is looking extra fine in his jeans and when he gets out of the shower. you can't help if you stare... and maybe do a little more. i hope you enjoy!! (sorry i couldn't find a pic of him in jeans for the header)

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v

word count: 2k

a/n: hello fantasizers! (that's what i'm calling you guys now cause i am delusional) back again! thank you all for encouraging my flip phone delusions on my last post. this post is a request. if you sent me a request, know that i am working on it as fast as i can. just be patient with me pretty please :) as always i'm giving you 1000 smooches for your reblogs or comments (they really make me smile and laugh so tysm) <3

Leon looked extra good today. You didn’t think he did anything different to his look this morning, but something about him was hitting you just right today. It was like you couldn’t help but stare at him since he had come home from work. You were trying to get some of your own work done on your laptop at the dining table, but he was unknowingly making that a challenge for you.

He was reclined on the couch, sprawled across it with his arms behind his head, half-paying attention to whatever was playing on the tv. His thick biceps emerged from his tight white t-shirt and framed his face. The thin fabric did little to hide the definition of his toned abdomen and chest.

Your eyes trailed down his body from your place across the room, settling on his jeans. The way he filled them out was driving you a special kind of crazy today. His muscular thighs wrapped tight in that blue denim. You feel like you can practically see the outline of his dick against the material. Soon, he starts to sit up and you avert your eyes back to your screen.

Leon walks over to the kitchen, seemingly unaware of your ogling. He has his back to you while he surveys the fridge for a snack. You try not to drool as you continue to gawk at him. The muscles of his back were all but visible through that white shirt. But even better than that, your favorite part, his ass. Looking like it was sculpted by an actual god, you had to stop yourself from openly salivating over your boyfriend standing just a few feet away from you.

He turns around, again snapping you out of your lustful daze. This time, he catches it though. A slight smirk appears on his face.

“You know, honey, I could just give you a picture. You could clip it to your laptop, so that way you can at least pretend you’re working,” he says. So he had noticed.

“Oh shut up,” you say with a roll of your eyes, “Like you don’t want the attention. You’re laid up like a fucking Calvin Klein ad.”

“I never said I didn’t enjoy it,” he says, his smirk growing as he walks to you. He kisses the top of your head and rubs your shoulder in a way he knows will work you up.

You look up at him, half-unamused, half-needy. You wrap your arms around his waist from where you sit, sliding a hand beneath his t-shirt to feel his skin.

“Maybe, you could give me some attention in return. Might help me focus,” you suggest as you drag your nails lightly over his side.

“Nope, you’ve got to finish your work, and I’m going to shower,” he says, kissing the top of your head.

“Boo, you’re no fun,” you say before pinching his side and snaking your hand out of his shirt.

He lets out a quiet laugh and shakes his head. “Be good while I’m gone,” he teases.

“Mhm,” you hum. As he begins walking away, you smack his ass, your hand making a muffled clap against the denim-covered flesh.

He turns his head, also trying to seem unamused now, but you can see the love in his eyes. You smile innocently at him.

“Mhm,” he repeats sarcastically.

“I hate to see you leave, but I love to watch you go,” you tease as he exits the room.

It isn’t long before you hear the shower turning on in the master bathroom. It takes a minute, but with him out of the room, you’re able to focus enough to get a substantial amount of work done. You’re clacking away at your keyboard, lost in thought, not really noticing how much time has passed or that the shower has shut off.

Your concentration is shattered, however, when your personal work of art himself comes strolling past you into the kitchen with nothing on but a towel around his waist. It seemed like he was glistening, every muscle shimmering in the aftermath of his shower. The towel hung low on his waist, accentuating his v-line and exposing his happy trail. The smell of his shampoo engulfs you as he struts by without giving you a second look.

Internally, you felt like a cartoon character with your jaw dropped and tongue rolled out, an outline of your heart beating against your shirt. You try to keep it cool though and not let on how desperately you want him right now.

“Really?” you ask incredulously, “That’s how you wanna play?”

“Am I not allowed to walk through my own living room now because it distracts you?” he asks, “I know I’m pretty babe, but c’mon.”

You can hear that teasing lilt in his voice and it’s just stoking the flames of arousal inside you more. You close your laptop and stand up. Coming up behind Leon, you lace your arms around his waist and press your cheek to the warm skin of his back.

“You’re very pretty,” you agree, “My beautiful guy. Who’s also an attention whore.”

“I’m an attention whore for existing in your vicinity?” he asks, turning around in your hold so that he’s facing you. He returns the embrace and rubs your back with his thumb.

“Yeah, but don’t worry, you’re my attention whore,” you coo and squeeze your arms around him.

“I guess that’s ok then…” he says as he tilts your chin up and connects your lips in a soft kiss.

You return the affection, your need pouring through your actions. His scent overwhelmed you in such close proximity. You move your mouth with his while your hands glide down to his waist. A couple of your fingers slip beneath his towel, gently tugging it loose. The cloth starts to fall from his hips, but he catches the center, holding it so it still covers his length.

You break from kissing for a moment to catch your breath and take in the sight before you. The gray towel hanging between his legs, leaving his thighs and and hips exposed. You look him up and down, and your hands lower to his ass to feel up the muscles there.

“Like what you see?” he murmurs as you make out.

“Mhm,” you hum, not moving your lips away from his long enough to speak.

He backs the two of you up toward the counter, spins you around, and bends you over the cool marble. You feel both of his hands gripping your hips and the towel now crumpled on the floor against your ankle. He then slides his palms over your ass, kneading the flesh before giving it a firm smack. Sliding himself between your legs, he rubs his semi-hard cock against you over your shorts.

“This what you wanted, sweetheart?” he breathes, his voice raspier as he rocks his hips back and forth, “This what got you so hot when you’re supposed to be working?”

“What can I say? You’re irresistible,” you tease, but it comes out more as more of a moan than you intend.

“Cute,” he chuckles before pulling down your shorts and panties, letting them fall to the floor with his towel.

He drags his tip up and down your folds, teasing you as the head nudges your clit. You’re gripping the edge of the countertop as a whine falls from your lips.

“Baby, no more teasing,” you whimper.

“My eager girl. So impatient,” he says as he finally pushes himself inside of you.

You had been trying to think of a reply, but your thoughts get hazy as his cock fills you. You groan, and your head falls forward to rest against the smooth tile. That doesn’t last long because Leon’s hand is in your hair a second later, lifting your head back up and turning it slightly to face him.

“C’mon sweet girl, you were staring so much, now you can’t even keep your head up?” he grunts as he pumps in and out.

You whine and nod, letting his grip support the weight of your head. He smacks your ass again in time with a deep thrust and a strangled moan falls from your lips. You bite your lip as your eyes flutter.

“That’s right, baby. Let me clear that pretty little head so you can work. Can’t think straight unless you’ve had me inside you, yeah? It’s all you care about till you’ve had your fill,” he rasps and grips your hips harder.

His eyes roll back momentarily as your walls squeeze around him once his words sink in. You pulse and feel the hot coils of pleasure tightening in your stomach. He lets out what sounds like a growl at the feeling. The sounds of your skin meeting his fills the room as he picks up the pace.

“Getting close, angel?” he says and pulls you closer by your hair. Your back is arching and you straighten your arms to support yourself upright. You hear his heavy breathing directly in your ear and feel the hot air fanning your skin.

You frantically nod in response to the question.

“Well, not yet baby,” he says and pulls out of you. You whine, about to complain, but he turns you around and boosts you onto the counter. He slides back in with a groan. “No, none of that. Just wanna see that beautiful face when you cum.”

The new angle has him battering your sweet spots with renewed vigor. He’s got one set of fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh, holding it up so he has room to work his hips for you. His other arm is wrapped around you and supporting your position.

You’re breathlessly whimpering, one leg wrapped around his waist and a hand in his hair. Your skin felt hot against his while the counter felt cool on your ass, especially after you felt the sting of his hand there a few times.

You were already close in the previous position, so you’re barely able to hold it together now. He can tell from the way you’re wildly fluttering around him. Your breathing becomes more like gasps as you approach that familiar edge. His hand on your back slides up to your head and pulls you closer so that his face is in the crook of your neck when he lets out a primal sound that’s somewhere between a whine and a growl.

“You there, honey?” he asks against your skin.

“Mhm,” you hum immediately, nodding again.

“Me too, baby. Let go for me. Squeeze me nice and tight, just like that,” he says, his voice strained and breaking off into a whimper at the end.

You shudder against him and gasp before letting out a long, low moan as you cum. Your body twitches and your head tilts back slightly. He presses some sloppy kisses to your neck before grunting and biting his lip, a choked sound of pleasure emanating from his throat.

His hips sputter and his thrusts lose rhythm as he releases too. You feel his hot, thick cum flooding your insides, the sensation making you tremble with satisfaction. His fingers press hard against your skin while his forehead rests on your shoulder. You feel his ragged breathing on your skin. It’s slightly cool from the light sheen of sweat you’d worked up.

The two of you take a second to catch your breath before disconnecting and untangling your bodies.

“You feeling better now? Less distracted?” he teases, brushing some hair from your face and kissing your forehead.

“Mmm, yeah, but I think I have to take a shower now too,” you say with a grin. You peck his lips in return and then hop off the counter and playfully smacking his ass again.

“I don’t know. You still seem to have something else on your mind,” he says, his own smug smile returning, “I didn’t think my girl would be satisfied after one round. Maybe a few more and then I’ll join you for another shower.”

“I think I like your plan better,” you say as he grabs your wrist and pulls you off to the bedroom.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy imagine

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prose-for-hire · 8 months

Text

Evol (or, a backwards love story)

Pairing: Spike x reader

Request: Hey I love your spike x reader fics I was wondering if you could do one were like they both have a crush on eachother and he invites her over to his crypt but it's super fluffy and he makes it all romantic with candles and shit

Reader isn't a big fan of pink but doesn't like hate it or anything (just a heads up in case you love pink (like me) and it takes you out of the story).

Requested by: anon

A/N: Be kind please this is the first fic I've done in ages! Hope this is okay, love 💖

You had been in deep thought, your mind travelling ahead of you as your limbs tried to follow. But your wandering mind had led you down an unknown path. You had taken a strange turn somewhere and found yourself in unchartered territory.

You were at a crossroads, in almost pitch darkness. The streetlights had disappeared a couple of streets ago and you weren’t entirely sure where you were. You were fumbling through the dark now, trying to find something to hold onto, to anchor you.

You found yourself connecting with something, a figure in the shadows. You groaned, the last thing you needed tonight was to get eaten, your top was brand new. You recoiled slightly but a pair of steady hands righted you. He, of course, could see in the dark.

“What’re you doing round these parts, pet?” His voice came from the darkness, retracting his hands, a flame from his lighter ignited so that you could see.

“Got kinda turned around… I’m lost”

“Can’t have that, can we, love? If you’re not careful somethin’ nasty might eat you up” His eyes glinted with amusement, his lips curled slightly in that irresistible way he did. Even when he was being ‘evil’ he was attractive to you. You were doomed to fall for him.

“What did we talk about Spike?”

“Too much?”

“Only a little” you smiled despite yourself, now unable to look up from your feet. You were afraid that you would reveal too much, he could read you like a book. He always had, ever since you met a year ago.

It was tongues and teeth. Blood and sweat. You were backed against the wall, the vibrations from the music pulsing through you. You grasped the black t-shirt that clung to him so perfectly, the vampire you had only heard about.

You knew he and Buffy had faced each other on numerous occasions, you just happened to miss him each time. You had met them in college and had only known of the stories about William the Bloody at this point. But you always liked to judge people for yourself, anyway. And, well, you hadn’t realised how beautiful he was, you had been taken by him as soon as he stomped up to the bar and sulkily ordered a beer.

You heard voices through the crowd, through the headiness of that moment. Voices you recognised. You pulled away, your face a picture; as if you had seen a ghost. You weren’t supposed to be here,

“Go home” He had hissed, covering you as you slid away. Taking Buffy’s attention.

You should have known then he had a soft spot. Or, well, the potential for one. Usually he would have relished the awkwardness of Buffy walking in to find you kissing a vampire. Drinking with demons and beating them at kitten poker. But if he had the chance to do that again he wasn’t going to ruin it by getting the ultimate mood slayer involved, now was he.

But you hadn’t ever had any real time alone since. Sure, sometimes it felt like you were both the only people in the room but there was barely a chance to even allude to what you had done let alone reignite the moment again. Though he of course tried at every moment he got.

“Got have plans, love? My crypt’s only down the way” he spoke softly, almost tentatively if you didn’t know better.

“I’m late. I’m supposed to meet some… friends” You hesitated and you knew he caught it before you looked back into his eyes. Eyes you were slowly being lost in.

“Not those bloody losers again. You’re better than them”

“Those losers are actually my friends”

“Friends that you hide yourself from” He shrugged, not entirely able to drop it. He couldn’t hide his distaste for Buffy and the others.

Despite it all he gestured with his head, offering to take you to your friends. Even though you knew Sunnydale quite well after moving into your dorm a year ago and running around the town many times after (or often away from) demons, you still got lost a lot. It was a kind of running joke amongst the other scoobies.

He lit a cigarette as you rounded the corner, only pausing to offer you one which you declined with a soft smile. A smile that made him want to drop to his knees and declare his undying love for you. It pained him, how soft he was for you.

He shoved the other hand in the pocket of his duster, jaw tensing as he saw your friends speaking rapidly, apparently concerned about something. Willow noticed you first.

“We thought you’d been all ookified, we were worried!” She flung herself around you with a big smile of relief.

“You got lost, huh?” Buffy said with a smile, which quickly dropped when she noticed the company you were in.

“Yeah, Spike helped me get my bearings. Thanks, again” You grinned, despite Xander and Buffy’s distaste. Anya patted your head a little patronisingly at your habit of getting yourself lost.

“Anytime, pet”

“Yeah, right, evil dead is only good for being evil… and dead”

“Not that I’m not enjoying the boy’s wit, but I’ll be off now” He addressed only you, hoping to keep the barbs at his expense from the group to a minimum. Someone muttered something distasteful about Spike, which was of course in his earshot, but he didn’t turn back around.

“He’s, like, the lowest of the low.” someone agreed, shaking her head at the figure walking away.

You weren’t sure why that moment was the moment. Why you spoke something that had been so safely unspoken.

“Spike! Spike, wait-”

“Y/n, what’re you doing?!” your friends called after you, still in earshot as Spike ditched his cigarette and swung around to face you.

“Love, you go and do the friendship thing with the meddlin’ kids, okay? I’d rather stake myself than spend an evening with them”

“I know, I was wondering if the offer’s still on that is, well, I’m free tomorrow night”

He put both hands in his duster, rocking on the balls of his feet and looking down. It was as if he thought you were being cruel to him. Taking him up on his offer just to hurt him by rejecting him in the next breath with all your friends watching. He had to know you better than that, surely.

You reached for his arm, willing him to feel what you felt. Know what you knew. That you and him were meant for each other, that this chance that you were trying to take meant a lot. For someone you had kissed so passionately before it was strange how nervous you were suddenly at even grazing his skin.

“After sunset, tomorrow at your crypt?” You asked softly, though the vulnerability in your voice bled through. He saw it, he saw that your intentions were pure. There were some gasps and some vague unimpressed whispering from your friends behind you but you couldn’t bring yourself to take notice.

Instead you waited with bated breath for his answer. You knew he had offered earlier but there was always the chance he was doing it to tease you. That he had no interest in you. That he was playing with you, looking for something quick and easy. You could do that, of course you could, if it meant being close with him. But it may just break your heart beyond recognition.

This purgatory, which only lasted a second, felt like it lasted hours. Your grip on him tightened, as if you were afraid he would slip away from you.

He nodded, to anyone else it probably looked as if he wasn’t bothered. What he didn’t know was that you could read him in the way he did for you. You saw the slight upturn of his mouth before it disappeared, you noticed the way his eyes searched you with wonder for a fraction of a moment. You knew then, for sure, he felt for you as deeply as you had started to fall for him. Everything you had learned about him you held close, collecting it as the most valuable treasures.

You arrived the next night a minute after the sun set and promptly knocked on the door of Spike’s crypt. You could hear some scuffling about from behind the door and a lot of a British accent muttering ‘bloody bollocks’ every so often which made you smile softly.

You waited patiently until he swung the door open, allowing you to walk in. You gasped, he had transformed the main level of his crypt for the evening. There were candles everywhere, on every single available surface and surrounding the sofa where there was a couple of blankets piled up and a stack of VHS tapes.

There were wilted roses that had shed their petals all over the floor beside the TV set and you tried to ignore the high probability that these came from a few of the graves surrounding the crypt. Stuck haphazardly to the walls were pink and red hearts made from crepe paper and various strips hanging about.

I mean, it was a huge fire risk but you tried to ignore this fact as you appreciated his scattered decorations. You assumed that Spike was ensuring you were aware that he thought of this as a date.

“How was your night with America’s most haunted?” Spike asked, you could tell he was genuinely interested if you had a nice evening after he left you at the Bronze.

You told him everything in complete detail, you were a keen storyteller and he adored this about you. You spoke in such detail that he could picture himself there beside you as the night played out.

“Drink, pet?”

“Please”

You looked around as he started rummaging around with bottles and glasses. You read the words on some of the hearts, your brow furrowing slightly.

“EVOL? I think it’s spelt-”

“No, love, it was meant to be- they’re from the craft store. They, well, I didn’t want it to scare you off now did I?” He turned the heart around, the word was actually ‘love’. He hadn’t wanted you to think he was coming on too strong so he had hidden the word. Though the rose petals and the various pink and red crafts might well have done that if you hadn’t realised how deeply you felt for him.

You laughed, you couldn’t help it. You hadn’t been sure if he was making sure that all this romantic stuff didn’t take away from him being bad. Telling you he was ‘evil’.

He passed you a glass, different from usual where he would just drink straight from the bottle. You were surprised to note that it was your favourite drink. It was incredibly endearing that he had learned this about you, or perhaps it was his favourite and you just had that in common.

The glow of the candlelight accentuated his features, casting shadows from his cheekbones. You felt yourself leaning into him as he spoke animatedly, it was entirely involuntary. When you thought about it, you had done everything in reverse. You were tentatively courting after sharing a much more passionate moment the night you properly met. You much preferred it this way though, in some ways it cemented now just how much Spike had grown to care for you through the stolen moments you had together through the year.

Quick glances and lingering touches. The way he had thrown himself in front of a demon to ensure you would be safe. The way he always offered to walk you home, even if he was shot down every time by the slayer. He always made jokes in the hope that you would laugh.

The evening was lovely, you shared drinks and watched films together, while Spike made biting commentary on each scene. You were wrapped in a blanket while he stayed room temperature. He sat a little more rigidly than usual, seemingly unable to relax. He wanted the night to be perfect. He was concerned he might say something wrong, something a little too murderous and off-putting.

You hadn’t really been paying attention to the film. He had done everything to try and prove he was a man worthy of your love. You could sense he was holding back but you loved him for who he was, the flaws wrapped into the thread of his personality were just as important to you.

“I really like you, Spike. You don’t need to impress me, you know that right? I’m already yours, if you’d let me be” You spoke barely above a whisper. He turned to you, searching your face before a smile grew slowly on his lips. It was a smile you had only ever seen him give to you.

“You’re tellin’ me I can take all this sodding pink bollocks off my walls now then?”

“I mean, it’s a real improvement from the cobwebs but it’s not really my colour,” You grinned, pressing your lips to his quickly before pulling away.

You leaned against him as the night progressed, leaning your head into the crook of his neck. He shifted as you moved down the sofa so that you could comfortably rest against him. He inhaled, savouring your scent. It felt like home. He closed his eyes, focusing on your heartbeat thrum steadily. You were truly here, by his side.

Your body was made to fit beside his, you knew this as if it was fact. You couldn’t imagine a future where you wouldn’t hold each other. Or share moments such as this. The warmth from the candles and the care and attention that Spike continued to show you told you that his feelings at their core were clearly no act, his execution had been slightly exaggerated only because he hadn’t really dated in the usual way for a good few decades.

He slid his arm along the headrest behind you and you settled into watch the next movie. After a moment you realised his eyes were still trained on you, he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. When you looked at him, giving him a quizzical look, he just gestured back at the screen with his head a soft smile on his face.

If this was the first proper date, you were looking forward to the rest. In fact, as his arm snaked around you and pulled you close, you were not sure you would ever be ready to leave.

#spike btvs #spike x reader #spike x you #spike imagine #spike btvs x reader #spike btvs x you #spike btvs imagine #buffy the vampire slayer #btvs #btvs imagine #buffy the vampire slayer imagine #btvs x reader

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kjdkive · 9 months

Text

accidentally revealing you're engaged — CL16

top actress! yn and f1 pilot! charles leclerc

“you know, chloe, i am very scared of red carpets because it means interviews and questions and i hate them, why can’t we all just watch the premier in peace and in comfy clothes?” you ask your manager.

“you talk a lot when you’re nervous.” she says.

“i know and i am sorry.” you tell her. “i get anxious because you never know if they can twist your words. but whatever, i’ll be fine, right? like it’s nothing serious, right, chloe?”

“we’re here.” chloe replies and waits for one of the bodyguards to open your door and let you walk out. “you’ll be fine.” she says before you get off the car.

as soon as you get off you hear the screaming from the fans and you run to them so you’re able to take as many pics and sign as many autographs as you can before security tells you to stop.

but the part that you loved the most is over, now is posing and then interviews.

“yn! let us see the back of the dress!” you listen to the paparazzis and you turn around. you keep posing the way you’re being asked to, expecting for the pictures to maybe not look perfect but just fine.

and the posing is over! now it’s the interviews.

you’re 3 interviews down of 5 to go and your manager and your bodyguard are behind you supporting you, mouthing “you got this!” which makes you laugh.

“hi, y/n, it’s so nice to meet you. i am kate and i am from know-it-all magazine.”

you have to be honest, you had never heard from them.

“hi, kate, nice to meet you too.” you smile at her.

“i’m loving your dress, it fits perfectly! can you tell us who you’re wearing?”

“of course, i am wearing a custom-made oscar de la renta which is a huge honour.”

“are you excited to be here? i mean, you’re probably going to get asked out a lot because you’re a single woman now.”

“uh, yeah…” what did she just say? this is what you didn’t want to happen, questions that are not normal and that you do not want to answer.

“can you give a few tips to women who now are after charles?”

okay. now you didn’t understand what was going on. what the hell is happening?

“did you just ask me to give tips to women who like charles? as in what he likes and stuff?”

“yeah, i mean, you broke up.”

“we broke up?” you ask her, shocked.

“yeah, that’s what everyone is saying.” she never stops smiling which is creepy and annoying you.

“can you hold on a second?” you ask and she nods.

you grab your phone from your pocket because yes, your dress had pockets. right now, a blessing and a curse. your manager was about to stop you but what you were about to do was going to be funny. you scroll a little bit through your phone, dial some number and put it on speaker.

“hey, charles! i’m on an interview and you’re on speaker, okay?”

“hey, baby, yes, what’s up?” he giggles. “why are you calling me charles, though? did i do something?”

“i think you did.” you laugh. “did we break up?”

“what?” he asks, almost yelling. “did we?” he asks now more calmly but confused.

“i mean, i don’t think so.”

“as far as i know, babe, we’re engaged so you’re kind of stuck with me.”

you roll your eyes laughing.

“i know, right? thanks for letting me know though, i’ll call you later after i’m done, babe.”

“m’kay, i love you!”

“love you too, baby, bye!”

you hang up and you look at the interviewer.

“does that answer your question?”

“it totally does. thank you so much, hope you have lots of engaged fun tonight.”

“i will, thank you.”

you start walking away from the camera but you hear chloe whisper to the interviewer: “she’s kind and naive but next time, ask better questions. just be thankful for now.” chloe could be a very scary person.

“i think you’re going to go trending and you’ll also make a lot of money to that magazine.” chloe laughs. “good job.”

“thanks? i guess.” you look at her. “charles fucked up, though, we were supposed to keep our engagement a secret.”

“you know how he is, he could never keep a secret.”

#charles leclerc #cl16 x reader #cl16 #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 smau #f1 scenario

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thewritingrowlet · 4 months

Text

The Outing Trip pt. 2, ft. tripleS Xinyu and Dahyun

tags: cheating, cum-in-mouth, creampie, ass play, (a bit) rough

word count: ~10k words

author's note: I was 3k words deep into this shit when I realized that I didn't have any picture of them together so here's their pictures from the GND showcase. In terms of plot, I initially wanted Dahyun to have a bigger role but then I decided that I'd give her the spotlight in a future part instead.

Anyway, thanks always for reading <3

p.s. Wolfie if you see this again; send me another idea on June 12th (oddly specific, I know). Thanks in advance. <3

[🐈‍⬛| 08:02]

Oppa

Don’t forget

We have a meeting with everyone today at 1545

Don’t forget to bring Xinyu with you

“Xinyu-yah”, you call out to Xinyu, who’s busy getting dressed in the bedroom, “Nakyoung just reminded me of today’s meeting”. Xinyu gets out from the bedroom after she’s done changing, “yeah, she just texted me as well. You don’t have classes today, do you, oppa?”. You get up from the sofa and shake your head, “I’ll take you to campus, baby. I’ll refuel the car after dropping you off”. She shoves you in the chest and you’re sat back down on the sofa, “it’s like 8, let’s chill for now”. Xinyu then sits on your lap and tucks her head against your neck, “I always like how you make me feel small even though I’m taller than most people”. You chuckle and peck the top of her head, “you can thank my dad for his genes, precious”. She squeals at the pet name, “aww, that’s a new one, isn’t it?”. “Not really”, you say, “I said it last Monday when I was lulling you to nap—remember when you were resting your head on my lap? You probably already drifted away to dreamland when I said that, though”. “Oppa, I want to take a little nap like this until it’s time to leave, okay?”, Xinyu says as she steals a peck on the neck from you.

After a few minutes of seated cuddling/napping, it’s now 10 minutes before Xinyu needs to leave for class. You want to make sure that she’s in the correct state of mind before you take her to campus, so you attempt to wake the napping fox. “Honey”, you say as you give her some taps on the back, “we need to leave soon”. She looks around her as she gathers her consciousness, “huh? Already?”. “Yes, already. Now let’s wake up and get ready, okay?”, you pepper her face with kisses to help her wake up. She holds your head to make you stop, “give me a reason why I should go to class and give up the chance to be spoiled by my boyfriend all day long—it better be a very good and rational one, oppa”. You crank the gears in your head to come up with an answer for your clingy sweetheart, but you only manage to come up with the most dull and basic answer of all time: “your education is important, love—what would people say when they hear that the vice president refuses to go to class because she wants to stay at home with her boyfriend?”. She huffs in false annoyance, “I don’t care about what people say, oppa. The world is ours and they’re merely leasing in it”. “C’mon, let’s not say such thing, love. I’ll carry you to the car, okay?”, you lift her by her thighs and stand up from the sofa.

You’re now in the car, on your way to campus to drop Xinyu off before getting fuel for your car. You notice that she hasn’t made any sound since you two left the parking lot, so you look at her and see that she’s asleep again. You suspect that she’s not feeling too well and not in the best mood, so you decide to make a quick detour to get some ice cream for her—thankfully she doesn’t wake up when you’re in the drive-thru because that’ll spoil the surprise.

“Cutie pie”, you softly tap Xinyu in the arm, “we’re here”. “I’m not feeling too well, oppa. I’m having a period right now and it’s not pleasant”, she says with a weak voice. The tone and manner of her speech makes your heart ache because Xinyu is never one to act like this. “Honey, look at me, please”, you grab a cup of ice cream and show it to her, “I have some ice cream for you. I hope this helps”. She smiles despite the discomfort and takes the ice cream from your hand, “thank you so much, oppa. Your kindness keeps reminding me of why I fell in love with you”. You pull her to you and peck her lips, “I love you, baby. Please hang on until the end of the day, okay?”. She says her farewell before getting out of the car with ice cream in hand, and you wait until she disappears from your sight before driving away.

Xinyu greets you in front of the classroom where the meeting is taking place but instead of leading you in, she pulls you around the corner instead. She pulls you into her embrace and hugs you tightly. “Thank you so much for the ice cream, oppa. I’m so sorry for being annoying all the time”, she says. You peck the top of her head in response; “you’re not annoying, baby. How can I say that you’re annoying when I don’t know exactly what you were going through? It’s not fair for you”. She lets go of the hug and wipes her glassy eyes; “you’re gonna make me cry if we keep hugging. Thank you, oppa, seriously”. You take her hand and walk into the classroom with her to get ready for the meeting.

“Hey, look who’s here with me”, Nakyoung says when she sees you two enter—Yooyeon is sitting on her left while Dahyun and Chaeyeon are on her right. “Unnie, hi”, Xinyu waves at her. “Hey, guys”, Yooyeon replies with small waves of her own. “Are you going to be with us for the meeting, Yooyeon-ah?”, you ask her. “I was about to ask if I can, actually. Nakyoung-ie told me to ask for your permission”, she says. You shrug, “I don’t mind having a spectator. We’re getting food after as well so it’s easier like this”. You walk to the four girls and give Dahyun and Chaeyeon a fist bump, “welcome to the council, you two. Run for presidency when you can, okay?”. “Thank you, oppa. We won’t disappoint”, Dahyun says.

Nakyoung told you a few days ago that she wanted to run this meeting, so you take a seat among the 30-something person crowd and let the spokesperson cook. “Alright everyone”, Nakyoung starts as she stands in front of the class, “I’ll be the one speaking today, since Jisung-oppa is having a sore throat today. Let’s get started, shall we?”. Xinyu leans over and whispers to you, “your throat is sore, oppa? Must’ve been the ice cream”. You chuckle and shake your head, “no, it’s not; she made that up”.

Nakyoung kicks off the meeting by explaining the when and where of the trip; 3 days 2 night from September 29th until October 1st on the island across the strait. She then continues by explaining the method of transportation to get there, which is by bus, which will get on a ferry to cross the water before getting off and continuing the ride until you arrive at the resort. Lastly, she announces that each room will be occupied by 3 people and that everyone is allowed to choose who they want to share the room with, as long as they’re of the same gender. She skips the “who” part of the 5W1H because it’s obvious already; who else is participating if not the members and leaders of the council? Nakyoung takes a sip of water and catches her breath before answering a bunch of questions from people in the room. After answering all of them, she sees that no one else raises a hand, so she ends the meeting and tells them to send her an email should they have questions.

Only the 6 of you remain the classroom after everyone else has scattered to continue their day. “Good job, Nakyoung-ah. You did well”, you praise her. She pulls Xinyu to her feet and hugs her, “aaaah, I’m so tireeeed. Is this how it’s always like for you, oppa?”. You chuckle as you get up from your seat, “kind of. You get used to it, though”. Yooyeon chimes in and tells her perspective, “I haven’t got used to it even though we’ve had a bunch of meetings already. Being in the center of attention overwhelms me”. You offer a hand for Dahyun and Chaeyeon to help them up. “Let’s go get dinner, girls. It’s on me, just like usual”, you say as you lead them to the door.

“Does anyone have any idea where we should go?”, you ask the crowd in your car. “Dahyun-ie’s restaurant! I want burgers, oppaaaa”, Nakyoung raises her hand and exclaims. “Any objections?”, you ask once again but get no answer. “Alright, Dahyun-ie’s restaurant it is”, you say. You glance at the rearview mirror and see that Dahyun is covering her cheeks, presumably to hide her blush. You look forwards again and keep driving until you get to your destination.

“Alright, girls; we’re here”, you look around the car and see that everyone was asleep—no wonder the ride was super quiet. Everyone but Xinyu gradually wakes up after hearing your announcement, as they reach for their stuff and slowly get out of the car. You get out of the car and sprint to the other side to help Xinyu get out. “Please carry me, oppa”, she says. You’re concerned if maybe she’s in pain, “are you okay, baby? Does your body ache?”. “I’m okay, just feeling extra clingy today”, she says with a teasing smile. You repay her smile with one of sweetness before giving her a piggyback ride to the restaurant.

“Mom, I’m bringing my friends again!”, Dahyun greets her mom as your group enters the restaurant. “Omo! Welcome back, children”, Mrs. Seo waves to you and your friends, “what’s wrong with the miss on your back, Jisung-ah?”. “She’s having a period so she’s not feeling so well right now. Xinyu-yah, say hi to Mrs. Seo”, Xinyu waves cutely after hearing your words. Mrs. Seo puts her hands on her chest, “and you’re carrying her like that? Oh, how cute and nice you are”. You deflect her words and line up in front of the cashier with the girls to order. After everyone has finished ordering, you pay for everything (without forgetting the extra) and head to your group’s favorite spot near the wall.

Everyone but Xinyu has now completed their meal, so the 5 of you stay seated and wait for her—Dahyun’s mom gave Xinyu an extra serving of fries, so combine that with the fact that she’s not feeling well, it takes her longer to finish her food. Since you’re sitting next to Xinyu, you’re able to offer comfort her and encourage her to keep eating. Chaeyeon praises you for being a good boyfriend to Xinyu and that you and Xinyu are really meant to be together. You thank Chaeyeon for the kind words and pray that you’ll get to spend the rest of your life with Xinyu, because there’s no one else that you love more than her.

You see Dahyun get up from her seat and stand next to Xinyu before whispering something to her ear. Xinyu replies to whatever Dahyun just said with a nod, so Dahyun walks up to you and whisper in your ear. “Oppa, my parents want to talk to you. Follow me, please”, Dahyun says. You give her a nod and follow her to some office space tucked away in the back of the restaurant.

Once you enter, you see that the room she has led you into is actually empty. “Where are your parents, Dahyun-ah?”, you ask her as you look around the room. “Oh, they’ll be here soon”, Dahyun says as she approaches you, “I told them to join us when I tell them to. I want some private time with you first”. You look at her in confusion, and that’s when she pulls you down by your nape and kiss you. Dahyun breaks the kiss after a minute and rests her head on your chest. “What was that, Seo Dahyun?”, you ask her. You don’t hear any answer from her, but you do hear some sobs. “I love you, oppa, but I know I have no chance against Xinyu-unnie. There’s no way that you’ll leave her for me, is there?”, she says after a sniffle. “Dahyun-ah”, you say as you wrap your arms around her slender torso, “what are you saying right now? What does Xinyu have to do with anything?”. Noticing that you’re hugging her, Dahyun rids of any thoughts that’s holding her back and hugs you. “I just wish that you were mine, oppa, but we both know that it’s highly unlikely to happen”, she confesses.

You take a deep breath before pulling away from the hug. “Please don’t cry; I hate seeing girls cry”, you say as you wipe the tears on her cheek, “can we get your parents after this? The sooner we can get this out of the way, the better”. “I lied”, she confesses, “I just wanted to have some private time with you”. You can’t believe your ears; “excuse me?”, you question her. “I lied to you and Xinyu-unnie—is she always that gullible, by the way?”, she says. “Yes, she is”, you admit and sigh, “I’m getting out of here. The last thing I want today is breaking Xinyu’s heart by lying to her”. She grabs your wrist as you start walking away, “can I at least tempt you with a blowjob?”. “No, I get that a lot from Xinyu already”, you say, resolute and clear—not sure why you need to flex your sex life to Dahyun, though.

You return to the dining area and see that Xinyu has eaten all her food. You get on a knee next to her so that you gauge how she’s feeling based on her expressions. “Good job finishing them, baby. How are you feeling right now?”. Nakyoung answers your question for Xinyu, “she said she wants to go home soon, oppa”. “You do, sweetie?”, you ask Xinyu, and she replies with a nod. You get back on your feet and look at the crowd, “are we ready to go?”. “Just leave, don’t worry about us”, Yooyeon says, “go, take Xinyu home. I’ve been in her shoes before, and I wished I had had a boyfriend like you at the time”.

You carry her out of the car as soon as you arrive at your building and hustle straight to the bedroom. “Let’s lie down for a second, okay? I’ll get you some water and clothes”, you say to her after setting her down in bed. “No!”, she blurts out, “just-just be in bed with me, oppa, please”. You grant her request and get in bed to cuddle with her, and Xinyu promptly wraps her long limbs around different parts of your body. “Oppa, you won’t leave me for anyone else, right?”, she asks, as if knowing of what happened in the restaurant with you and Dahyun. “Never, princess”, you assure her with a short but genuine answer. She pecks you in the neck before continuing, “I don’t care if I sound like a broken record every time I say it, but I really mean it every single time, oppa”. “I would much rather listen to a broken record than be the cause of a broken heart—does that makes sense, by the way?”, you say, earning a small chuckle from Xinyu. “I don’t know if it does, but I don’t care; my stomach hurts too much and I don’t want to think about anything”, she says.

Two weeks have passed since Dahyun’s little stunt, and it is now Friday on the 29th of September which can only mean one thing: day 1 of the outing trip. “We should give this trip a name”, Nakyoung says. “You should come up with it”, Xinyu and Yooyeon say at the same time—Yooyeon isn’t coming along, but she wants to be there when you leave. “Sure, I’ll try—you guys like making me do stuff, don’t you?”, Nakyoung says.

Yooyeon then turns to you, “Jisung-ah, can we talk for a second?”. You nod and walk to the other side of the bus with her to get some privacy. “What is it?”, you ask. Yooyeon rubs her forehead with a palm before speaking, “Dahyun-ie told me everything”. You signal to her to keep talking, so she does. “Will you be okay? Xinyu is also on this trip with you”, she asks. You take a deep breath before answering; “I’ll be fine. I’m planning to address it with her at some point during the trip”. Yooyeon gives you an encouraging smile and a fist bump. “Whatever decision you two come up with, try to make it easier for her, okay? She has a good heart, and I would hate to see her lose it”, she says. ”Oppa, where are you? We need to leave!”, Xinyu shouts from the other side of the bus. “That’s my cue”, you give Yooyeon a friendly hug, “I’ll see you on Monday, okay? I’ll treat you guys to lunch”.

You go back to where everyone was gathering and see that they’re getting on the bus one by one. You hold Nakyoung and Xinyu by their wrists to prevent them from getting on. “I’m counting on you two”, you say to them, “help me run the show, please”. They both give you a nod simultaneously, so you let them go and get on the bus with everyone. “Make sure nothing catches on fire when we’re away, okay? See you on Monday!”, you say to Yooyeon as you wave your goodbye, and she waves back with a smile. Once you are seated, the bus starts moving, thus marking the beginning of your last council initiation trip before graduating.

“We’re getting on the ferry, guys”, the co-driver says as the bus rolls onto the ship, “you can get off the bus if you want to. Just make sure you’re back in your seat in one hour”. After being given permission to get off, you walk to the upper deck to take in the sight of the strait. You lean against the railings and feel the fresh and relaxing breeze blowing at you. “Never knew how good it is to be on a ship. I wonder if mama and papa would be down for a cruise trip—for their anniversary, maybe? I should call them later”, you say to yourself

You close your eyes and savor the sense of freedom the sea is giving you, and you feel a hand on your back. “Hi, baby. Here for the wind as well?”, you say without looking. “I like how pet names escape your lips so naturally all the time”, the voice says. “Wait, that’s not Xinyu’s voice. That’s—“, you turn your head and see Dahyun in front of you. “Can I help you?”, you say, trying your best to stay composed. “You can, actually”, she says before pulling you away from the railings to hide behind a wall. “Stay still, please”, she tells you as she gets on her knees in front of you, “you know where this is going, don’t you?”. You can’t help but panic now, “Seo Dahyun, are you out of your mind? Xinyu will feed us to the sharks if she sees this”. “Please, oppa. Just this one time—Xinyu-unnie is busy with the other recruits right now”, she begs you.

You let out a deep sigh and start taking off your pants and boxers, piling them on your ankles. “Oh my God”, Dahyun exclaims, as she wraps her hand around your cock, “now I’m really envious of Xinyu”. You grit your teeth at the sensation, “that’s Xinyu-unnie to you”. “Fuck you”, she says before putting her lips around your cock. If Dahyun wasn’t on her knees with your cock in her mouth, you’d be offended and scold her, but she is, and you can’t think straight right now. “You better make this worthwhile, you slut”, you warn her. She removes your cock from her lips with a teasing smile, “keep the names for when you’re fucking me, oppa”, she says before continuing her work on your cock.

You’ve gotten a lot of heads before from your beloved, but Dahyun is doing an exceptional job right now: the way she’s licking the underside of your cock as her head moves along your shaft is different to how Xinyu usually does it. “This is a terrible time to think about Xinyu—fuck, I’m so sorry, my love”, you think to yourself. “This is the longest I’ve seen a guy last”, Dahyun says, taking a break from stuffing her face with your cock. “Are you going to finish this or what? If you can’t make me cum first try, you don’t deserve a second time”, you tease her. “Oh, I will, no need to worry about that”, Dahyun wipes her mouth before taking you in it again.

“You’ve had enough fun. Time to do it on my terms”, you say. You take her gloriously thick jet-black hair in your hand and start fucking her mouth deep. “Xinyu never gags, so you better not gag”, you provoke her—it’s not that Xinyu doesn’t gag at all, it’s just that she’s gotten more and more familiar your cock with every blowjob she’s done. You push the back of her head into your crotch and feel your tip hit the back of her throat. “Stay”, you command, and she does as you say (not that she has other options). After staying in that position for a few seconds, Dahyun starts gurgling loudly, so you show her some mercy and leave her mouth. Dahyun coughs and pants as she massages her neck, “holy shit, how does unnie do this all the time?”. “Because unlike you, she’s a good girl”, you then yank her hair and make her look up, “I’m gonna cum in your mouth and you’re gonna swallow it without letting a drop leak, is that clear?”. “Yes, oppa”, she says between pants. “Wrong fucking name”, you say sternly and yank her hair again. “Oh, fuck, my hair—yes, daddy”, she corrects herself.

You put your tip on her lips again and she opens her mouth obediently. “Be good”, you say as you start fucking her mouth harder and faster to chase your orgasm. You take it up a notch and pinch her nose shut as you fuck her face. Your brain starts wondering if you’re trying to make her your side slut, but that’s a question for later. For now, you’re aiming to shoot your load into her stomach. “I’m cumming, slut”, you say, as you release drop after drop after drop of cum into her mouth. The suddenness catches Dahyun off guard and makes her choke, but she tries her best to adhere to your command anyway.

You remove your cock from her mouth and see Dahyun swallow your cum in one gulp. “Good girl”, you praise her. You help her up to her feet and hug her, “let’s make sure no one knows this, yeah?”. “Yes, oppa”, she says, “I have a new idea, oppa”. You squint your eyes, expecting her to say something wild, “and that is?”. She looks at you straight in the eyes and utters her idea, “I can be your side girl, oppa”. You’re taken aback by her words, “what the fuck are you saying right now?”. She shrugs, “I figured since I can’t steal you from unnie, I’ll just be your side girl. You can come to me if Xinyu-unnie is unable to, um, please you”. The angel sitting on your right shoulder is yelling at you to say no, but the devil’s urge is stronger right now and you’re succumbing to it. “Sure, just make sure to keep this between us. Now let’s get out of here”, you say, feeling uneasy.

The 1-hour break flew by, and now you’re sitting on the bus again with Xinyu next to you. She leans her head on your shoulder and sighs, “where were you, oppa? I didn’t see you at all". Your eyes shake in nervousness, “I was sightseeing on the upper deck, baby. What about you?”. “Nakyoung-ie suggested that we should talk to the recruits and know them better considering who we are, but since you were away, I represented you and now I want to sleep”, she says with a yawn. You chuckle and pat her in the back, “that’s my girl. Get some sleep, baby. I’ll wake you up when we arrive”. “Your girl, huh? The one you just betrayed by getting a side chick? You’re fucking shitting me right now”, the angel insults you—you never knew an angel was capable of swearing, but you deserve it right now.

“Alright, guys; we’re here”, the co-driver announces. You tap Xinyu in the back a few times to wake her up. “Wake up, sweetie; we’ve arrived”, you say to her. “I wanna go home, oppa”, she says with a pout. “We’ll be home before you know it, love. Patience for now, please”, you persuade her. “I want your cock tonight”, she whispers to you, and you try your hardest to not blush (and get a boner).

You see the co-driver open the door, so you get up from your seat and get off the bus followed by Xinyu and everyone else. You ask everyone but Xinyu and Nakyoung to wait outside the resort complex while you go in and get the keys from the reception desk. “Good morning, miss. We’re from the Silicon Summit State University”, you say to the lady sitting at the desk. “Good morning to you as well. Please wait a moment”, she says as she opens the book in front of her, “I’ll get your keys so please have a seat”.

She returns to you after a few minutes with a bag filled with keycards. “Here are your keys. Have a good stay and please don’t mess anything up—the hall is ready for use, by the way”, she says. You take the bag from her and say your farewell before leaving the front office.

“Attention, please”, you say in front of your crowd, “find the roommates you want to share a room with and line up in front of me with your group so that I can give you a keycard”. They do as you say and make groups of 3 with their preferred roommates. One group after another lines up in front of you, and you give each group a keycard to their room until every group has one. Everyone walks away to find their rooms, leaving the three of you alone with no keys left. “Did you miscount?”, you turn to Nakyoung. “11 rooms for 33 people and 1 room for Professor Kim, no?”, she says. “33 people? You didn’t count us, you dummy”, Xinyu pinches Nakyoung’s cheeks. “Wait, wait—aaaah, I’m so sorry”, Nakyoung says as she tries to push Xinyu away. Xinyu lets go of Nakyoung’s cheeks and turns to you, “so what do we do, oppa?”. You dismiss their worry, “it’s fine. I’ll head back in there and ask for 2 more rooms for you two and myself—I’ll pay, don’t worry”.

“Excuse me, miss”, you say to the lady again, “my friend miscounted how many people we have in the group, so now we need 2 more rooms. I sincerely hope you have some vacant ones right now”. She nods and fiddles with the computer in front of her, “we have 6 empty rooms right now and 2 of them are on opposite ends of the same corridor”. You sigh in relief, “I’ll take that 2, please”. She nods again, “sure, the previous 11 have been paid in full so you only need to pay 2”. She then tells you the sum and you hand her your card. “What about the breakfast and dinner buffet, miss?”, you ask as you enter your PIN. “No worries, I’ll tell the other staff members about the situation so that you can sit and eat with everyone”, she says as she hands your card back to you.

“Hey, girls”, you call out to Xinyu and Nakyoung, who then walk up to you. “Here’s your card. I hope you don’t mind sharing a room with Xinyu”, you hand Nakyoung a keycard. Xinyu looks at you in surprise, “I’m not sleeping with you?”. You shake your head, “you’re not. We don’t want the others to libel us”. Xinyu takes the card from your hand, “I’m so sorry, oppa. I’ll make it up to you one day”. “Don’t worry about it”, you pet her head, “now let’s get some rest before we start doing stuff, okay?”.

You walk with Xinyu and Nakyoung to find your rooms and get in as soon as you find it. “I’ll see you in 2 hours”, you say before closing the door behind you. You drop your bag on the bed and feel your phone vibrating in your pocket.

[🍒]

You’re alone, aren’t you?

Wanna fuck my face again?

[👑]

How did you know?

No, not in the mood

[🍒]

Curious much?

Just tell me if you want to cum

ㅋㅋㅋ

“I need to fuck some obedience into this girl, don’t I?”, you say with a sigh after. You throw your phone on the bed and start opening your back to get some shower supplies. You don’t like the soap and shampoo they offer at hotels and resorts because they don’t make foam. You then head to the bathroom to get a quick shower to refresh yourself after the long ride and the blowjob Dahyun gave you on the ferry.

The 2 hours are up, and now it’s time to go to the hall to officially start the initiation trip. You meet Xinyu and Nakyoung outside the hall, and Xinyu immediately runs to you and hugs you. “I miss you”, she says with a sad tone. “Cutie, it’s only been 2 hours”, you chuckle, “we’ve been apart for longer before”. “Yes, but not when we’re in the middle of nowhere”, she defends herself. You see Nakyoung roll her eyes, “oh, c’mon. 2 hours without oppa won’t kill you, and we’re not in the middle of nowhere, damn it”. Xinyu lets go of the hug to scold Nakyoung, but you pull her back into the hug by her wrist. “Calm down, please. This isn’t my apartment, let’s not make a scene here”. After taking a few seconds to calm down, you drag the two girls into the hall.

“Good afternoon, everybody”, you greet the council members, and they immediately look up from their phones. “Some of you have done this before while some others haven’t, but please allow me to welcome you all the same. I understand that this initiation trip might look or feel pointless to some of you, but it’s important to see this as an opportunity to get to know everyone better. You guys will spend a lot of time working with each other on projects, and that includes me, the vice president, and secretary”, you say and get collective nods as a reply.

“Now, let’s start by introducing ourselves, starting with me. My name is Jung Jisung. I was born in 2001, so this is my last dance both in the council and university. It has been an honor to be the president of the council, and I look forward to working with you guys in my last year—also, it’s okay if you find my title to be weird or cringe; I cringe when I hear people say that title out loud as well. Feel free to call me anything but sunbaenim, please”, you end your introduction with a small bow, “I’ll let those two girls introduce themselves”. Nakyoung pushes Xinyu to go first, so she takes a spot next to your right to introduce herself. “Hello, everyone. My name is Zhou Xinyu, born in 2002 in China. I was Jisung-oppa’s running mate back then and now I’m the vice president. I look forward to working with you guys as well”, she says. There’s nowhere Nakyoung can hide now, so she steps up to introduce herself. “Hi, hi”, she starts, “I’m Kim Nakyoung. I was also born in 2002 but unlike her, I was born in South Korea. Officially, I’m the secretary of the council but outside the office hours, I follow these two around like a third wheel”.

“Thank you, you two. Aside from the three of us, we also have a treasurer named Park Jaehwan, but he’s currently hospitalized for Dengue fever. In case you didn’t know, we also have governors who lead their own councils on the faculty level, and you’ll meet them soon as we collaborate for projects like community service”, you say, “now, let’s continue the train and have everyone introduce themselves”. At your words, Dahyun runs to the front with Chaeyeon behind her. “Hellooo!”, she says excitedly, “my name is Seo Dahyun but you can call me Soda. I was born in 2003 in Busan. I look forward to making memories with you guys”. You chuckle in amusement, “thank you, Dahyun-ah. Next person, please”. “Hi, hi, hello”, Chaeyeon says while waving, “I’m Kim Chaeyeon, born in 2004. I also look forward to making memories with you guys”. “Thank you, you two. Ministers, it’s your turn to shine now—you don’t want to lose out to these two, do you?”, Nakyoung says.

Like a real government, you also have a handful of ministers in your council. They are basically group leaders who have a handful of council members working with them and are usually tasked with coming up with projects and helping run things at the university level and sometimes the faculty level as well. In fact, one of them is coming up to introduce herself right now. “Hiiiiii”, she drags out her greeting in excitement, “my name is Park Aecha and I’m currently the minister of public relations. I was born in 2003 in Seoul and Park Jaehwan, the treasurer that Jisung-oppa mentioned earlier, is my older brother—please pray for him, by the way. Welcome to the council, guys!”.

As another minister walks up, Aecha leaves her spot to sit down again, but you pull her to the side first. “Aecha-yah, if you want to leave first, just say the word. We’re not holding you hostage here”, you say to her. “Thank you, oppa. I’m planning to leave tomorrow afternoon after the interviews, if that’s okay with you and the two girls. Only the three of you matter to me”, she says. “I guarantee you that we’re 1000% okay with that. If you hear anyone say otherwise, just tell me who and we’ll throw them into the strait”, you assure her. Aecha smiles and nods before leaving you to head back to her seat.

“Thank you for introducing yourselves, everyone”, Nakyoung says, “we will take a break for 2 more hours before gathering here again for a leadership and professional ethics class led by Professor Kim Taeyeon—we have a lot of down time today but believe me when I say that you should enjoy it as much as you can”. She looks in your direction, so you give her a nod; “dis-missed!”, she says with a voice crack, provoking a collective giggle from the crowd. “Good job, Nakyoung-ah”, you say to her. “Aaaaaah, why did my voice crack, oppaaaa”, she complains to you as she smacks you in the chest lightly. “It’s okay, happens to the best of us”, you chuckle as you pat her back. You then pull Xinyu in for a quick kiss. “I’ll see you girls in 2 hours; I want to sleep a bit—wake me up if I oversleep, okay?”.

You text Dahyun as soon as you enter your room, leaving the door slightly ajar.

[👑]

To my room, please

Door isn’t locked

Make sure no one sees you

[🍒]

On my way xoxo

You lay in bed after seeing her response and immediately hear the door swing open and slam shut. “That was quick”, you say when you see Dahyun in your room. “My room is right across from yours, oppa”, she confesses. “Huh, no wonder you knew where my room is”, you say. “Mhmm. Now, what can I do for you?”, she asks. You get up from the bed and tell her your wish, “I want you to take everything off—now”. She starts by taking off her short black cardigan that’s held together with just one button, revealing the sports bra she has underneath it; “that’s cute”, you comment. She then unbuttons her jeans and take them off, thus leaving her only in her sports bra and panties.

“Come here, I’ll finish the job for you”, you say to her. Dahyun then gets closer to you, “yes, daddy”. You pull the sports bra over her head and toss it somewhere without looking before kneeling to take off her panties. “I like that you keep it clean and shaved. Keep doing it, okay?”, you praise her. “Yes, da—oh, God, yes”, her words are cut off when she feels your tongue on her pussy. You yank her legs apart even more so that you can have more space to move your head closer to her pussy. You lick and suck her clit, forcing Dahyun to cover her mouth to muffle her moans. “Oppa, please”, she begs with a low voice, “please, that’s so good”. You want to make her cum to repay her “kindness” on the ferry, so you stick two fingers into her pussy without letting up the stimulations on her clit.

“I’m-I’m so close—please, oppa, please”, Dahyun says between muffled moans. You finger-fuck her pussy faster and keep licking her clit like it was the most delicious ice cream ever. “O-oppa, hug me, please”, she begs. So, you stand up and hug her as she requests. She hugs you tightly and muffles her scream by biting your shoulder, and you hear splashes on the floor—"she’s squirting, that’s fun”, you think to yourself. Dahyun immediately becomes limp in your arms, so you hold her to make sure she doesn't fall.

“I-I—fuck—haven’t cum that hard in so long”, Dahyun says with heavy pants, “thank you so much, oppa. I-I love you”. You lift her and put her in bed before leaving to get a towel and some water. “Here, have a drink, sweetie”, you say as you guide the bottle to her mouth. You let her hold the bottle herself and walk to the small puddle to clean it. “I’ll get back to you in a minute, okay?”, you say as you walk to the bathroom after cleaning the little mess.

“I’m guessing it’s my turn to make you cum?”, she weakly says. You put on a gentle smile, one that you usually show to Xinyu. “No, sweetie, it’s not. I just wanted to repay your kindness”, you peck her in the forehead, “I love you, baby”. She wipes a stray tear on her cheek, “but I’m just your side girl. Are you sure you want to say that?”. You take her hands and pull her into a hug, “yes, I am”. “Finally accepting her as your side chick, huh? Splendid job, son”, the devil praises you. You shake your head lightly to rid his voice from your brain and focus on the girl in your arms. “I’m so sorry but you need to leave soon, darling. Make sure no one sees you, okay?”, you peck the top of her head apologetically.

You help her put on her clothes, starting from her panties. Before you give her the sports bra back, you quickly nibble her tits; “soft and perky, exactly my favorites”, you comment. Dahyun blushes as she tries to put on her sports bra; “tha-thank you, oppa. I know they’re not as big—“. You cut her off by giving her a peck on the lips, “what’s the point of comparing yourself with others, sweetie?”. Dahyun’s cheeks get even redder at your words, “oh, how sweet. Xinyu-unnie must be—oh, fuck”. You cut her off again with a squeeze in the neck, “say her name one more time, I fucking dare you”. You let go of her neck right away and clarifies to her, “I can be both sweet and mean at any given moment. It just depends on how you act around me. Are we clear?”. She nods in understanding, so you hand her jeans back and she puts them on right away. “I like how you dress, sweetie. Dress like this when we’re together, please”, you say as she puts on her cardigan. After making sure that she’s ready to go, you give her a quick kiss on the lips and let her go back to her room. “Make sure no one knows about this, okay?”, you say as Dahyun leaves the room and closes the door behind her.

You take a glance at your watch and see that you have around 90 minutes before you need to go to the hall again. You decide to take a nap as planned until you either wake up from the alarm or a flurry of missed calls from Xinyu. “What are we becoming, Seo Dahyun?”, you question yourself, “oh, God, Xinyu would be so hurt if she finds out about this; she was my first and now I’m two-timing her—fuck, I’m so damn stupid”.

You wake up before the alarm rings, 20 minutes to spare before the session starts. You decide to go to the hall right away after texting Xinyu to tell her that you’re heading there first. You see Professor Kim Taeyeon walking to the hall as well, looking mad attractive as ever. “Professor Kim”, you greet her simply. “Hi, sweetie”, she says with a warm smile―she has a habit of calling her favorite students with pet names, and you entered her list after making the dean’s list thrice in a row. “You look like you have a lot going on. You can tell me, sweetie; you know I don’t judge”, she says as the both of you enter the hall. You picture in your head how hurt Xinyu would be if she finds out that you’re cheating, and the sting of guilt makes you shed a tear. “I, uh, I fucked up, professor”, you confess with tears on your cheeks, “I betrayed Xinyu terribly”. “Let’s sit down before we continue, okay?”, she takes your hand and drags you to sit down.

She makes you sit in front of her, “go on, please”. You decide not to hide anything from her because you trust her that much. “There’s this girl that has been chasing me even though she knows I’m dating Xinyu, and instead of addressing it with Xinyu and pushing her away, my dumb ass gave her the opportunity so now she’s my side chick—excuse my language, professor”, you confess teary-eyed while looking down in shame. Professor Kim sighs, and you figure that she’s disappointed in you. “I hope those tears are coming from a place of guilt”, she says. You nod, “Xinyu would be so hurt if she finds out, and I wouldn’t be able to make it up to her no matter what”. “Humor me with a question, Jisung-ah: which one is more important: your beloved Zhou Xinyu, who has been with you through storms and tranquility, or this new side chick—what’s her name, by the way?”. “Seo Dahyun, professor”, you say. “Seo Dahyun? The freshman?”, she questions you. “You know her, madam?”, you look up to her. She sighs again, “I’ve met her parents before, and I had been told that you invested in them”. You nod again, “my family’s treasurer did it for me, so I don’t know the details”.

She takes your hand in hers and rubs the back of it softly, “would you please answer my question?”. You take a deep breath to recall the question before giving her your answer, “Xinyu is far more important to me than her, professor; she’s been by my side through everything”. She nods in understanding, “we all make mistakes, son—sometimes more regrettable than we’d like to admit, but what matters is how you can learn from it and become a better person”. “Your advice, madam?”, you ask her. It’s now the professor’s turn to take a deep breath, “you said that Xinyu is more important, so let Dahyun-ie go, Jisung-ah. Xinyu deserves the best of you while Dahyun-ie deserves much better than to be someone’s side chick”.

“Oppa!”, Xinyu shouts excitedly when she enters the hall, “oh, I’m sorry—hello, professor”. “Hi, darling”, Professor Kim says with a smile, “welcome”. Xinyu approaches the two of you and then turns to Professor Kim, “why is oppa crying, professor?”. Professor Kim gestures to Xinyu to sit down. “He had a lot in his mind but couldn’t bring himself to talk to you, so he shared some of them with me instead”, she says, “tell me, darling: do you love your president-oppa here?”. Xinyu looks at you and Professor Kim in confusion, “I do, professor. I love him with my entire being”. Professor Kim looks at you with a motherly smile, “see, son? Xinyu loves you as much as you love her. What else is there to doubt?”. Professor Kim then stands up from her seat to prepare for the class, “I’ll give you some space to talk, okay?”.

Xinyu pulls you to your feet and hugs you tautly, “oppa, what is she talking about? Are you okay?”. “I’m okay, sweetie. I’m-I’m so sorry”, you say in a shaky voice, “my mind was full of bullshit, but I didn’t want to bother you with them”. Xinyu sheds a tear of her own after hearing your words, “but-but why not, oppa? Am I not your girlfriend? You can talk to me about your worries, you know”. You pull away from the hug and wipe her tears, “I just couldn’t muster up the courage to talk to you about it, baby. You already have a lot to worry about so I just wanted to be the shoulder you can lean on”. Xinyu puts her forehead on yours, “I’m always here for you, oppa, the same way you’re always here for me”. You nod and peck her forehead, “I love you, darling. I’m sorry for making you worried. Now let’s calm down, okay? People will be here soon”.

You are holding hands with Xinyu during the session, and time flies by like it was nothing. Professor Kim is now offering advice to people who want it, and people start raising their hands. She tells each of them what they need to hear no matter how cold it might sound. “We all make mistakes in our lives, and that’s okay”, she says, repeating her advice for you from earlier, “what’s important is how you deal with it, learn from it, and become a better person after, because falling in the same hole twice is simply foolish. I know I do not look and act like a wise person all the time, but this is what I’ve learned throughout my life—I’ve been in your shoes, but you haven’t been in mine”. You squeeze Xinyu’s hand after hearing the professor’s advice. “I promise I’ll keep improving and become a better person for us, love. You deserve the best of me the same way I deserve the best of you”, you whisper to her. “I love you, oppa”, she whispers back, as if it wasn’t clear as day already.

When you turn to Professor Kim again, you see that she’s smiling at you and Xinyu before turning back to the audience. “Does anyone have any more questions?”, she asks, but no one raises their hand. “One more thing before we wrap things up, ladies and gents: remember to always be honest with yourself and those you love. Tell them you love them and are grateful for them”, she adds, “we come and go like on the freeway, so hold them close while you can”. You look down to process the things she just said, trying not to cry in front of the whole council as you feel like a revelation has been brought to you, courtesy of the one and only Professor Kim Taeyeon. “You may go now”, the professor dismisses the crowd, “I’ll see you back at campus in a few days. Good evening”.

Everyone but Xinyu and Professor Kim has left the hall to do whatever, leaving the three of you in the room. “Take care of each other, will you? I want to see you two live a good life—together, hopefully”, she says. “Thank you, professor. Have a safe flight back”, Xinyu says with a respectful bow. The professor gives her a smile and starts walking away, giving space for you two to have a little catch-up.

You jump up from your seat and pull Xinyu into a passionate kiss. “Thank you for being in my life, baby”, you say after breaking the kiss, “I will do my best to be the best boyfriend for you”. “Oppa, I’m thankful for you as well, you know”, she says in such a calm manner that you rarely hear (because she’s energetic and loud most of the time) combined with a smile that’s as warm as the morning sun, “I’d like to make a promise as well, love: I promise to always be by your side through thick and thin and be the beautiful and graceful girlfriend that you deserve—do you know why, baby?”. You shake your head to encourage her to continue and see where this is going, “because I love you so much, honey, and I sincerely ask you to never leave me because I can’t picture myself alone without you—I’ve never been selfish before, so please allow me to be selfish just this one time”. Xinyu very rarely uses pet names with you, only referring to you as “oppa” (or “daddy” when you two are in bed), so the words she’s saying are hitting you harder than ever, working wonders to convince you to cut ties with Dahyun. The professor was right: these two girls deserve the best life has to offer, and you can’t cater to both at the same time without hurting one of them.

You take her hand with a smile and drag her to leave the hall. “Baby, can you come to my room, please?”, you ask her. “For what reason, Mr. President?”, she says, smirking. You turn the gears in your head to come up with an answer. “You want me to stay by your side, yeah? I’ll do you one better”, you lean in so you can whisper in her ear, “how about I stay inside you instead, baby, hm?”. Xinyu turns away to hide her tomato cheeks. “Oh, my fucking—oppaaaa, what are you saying right noooow? Fuck me, are you even listening to yourself, oppa?”, she says, flustered. You double down and tease Xinyu more. “Fuck you? Yeah, that’s the plan; I’ll be cumming inside you as well”, you say with a naughty smirk. “Aaaaah, why are you like this, oppaaaa”, Xinyu whines, her blush is obvious for anyone to see. You chuckle in amusement, “alright, baby, that’s enough playing around. Now, would you kindly follow me to my room?”.

You decide to call Nakyoung to ask about today’s schedule before jumping into the action. “Nakyoung-ah”, you say as soon as she picks up, “where are you?”. “I’m in my room. I saw that you guys were busy, so I left first”, she says. “Yeah, it’s fine. We had some personal things we needed to address with each other”, you explain, “we don’t have anything important after this, do we? Just the dinner?”. “What do you mean ‘just the dinner?’ We’ll be asking them to make an essay on council project ideas before dinner, remember?”, she says. “Oh, right”, you say, “anyway, we’re skipping dinner, so if anyone asks, tell them we need some time alone and that we’re sorry. We’ll go over their essays with the ministers tomorrow morning”. “Yeah, I can do that”, Nakyoung agrees to your request, “are you guys okay, though? I saw both of you bawl your eyes out earlier. You’re not breaking up, are you?”. Xinyu takes the phone from your hand, “no, we’re not breaking up. In fact, we’ll be solidifying our relationship tonight”. You hear Nakyoung laugh over the phone, “sure, girl, whatever you say—just keep it down when you do it, ‘kay? Have fun!”.

Fun is exactly what you’re aiming for tonight, and while Xinyu knows that as well, you don’t want to jump to it right away. “Baby girl”, you softly call out to her, “I’m not horny for the sake of it, but I do want to show you how much I love you and my options are limited right now”. Xinyu rubs your cheek with her thumb gently, “Oh, is that so? Show me then, oppa, and I’ll show you my love as well”.

Usually, you start by taking off Xinyu’s clothes but this time, you decide to switch it up and take off yours first. “Is it just me or are those biceps bigger?”, Xinyu comments. You flex in front of her, “I don’t know, I haven’t noticed anything yet”. Xinyu’s eyes move down to your cock, “that looks bigger too”. You chuckle, “there’s no need to inflate my ego, love”. “Inflate your—no, I’m dead serious!”, she says as she moves to hold your cock, “you will stretch me for sure”.

Snicker as you pull Xinyu up to her feet to kiss her. “I love you, baby, and I don’t care if I sound like a broken record because I mean it every time”. Xinyu furrows her eyebrows as she tries to remember something. “Wait, that’s my line from when I was bitching about my period, no?”, she crosses her arms and pouts, “apologize for stealing my line or I’m not letting you in my pants—don’t forget the pet name”. “I’m sorry for stealing your line, baby—also, you weren’t bitching; you were in real pain”, you say, adhering to her demand, “can I get in your pants now?”. Xinyu shoves you softly, “sit on the bed and watch me strip”.

Xinyu takes a few steps back and takes off her T-shirt, revealing her tits that’s covered with a simple white bra. You start stroking your cock at the sight, and Xinyu throws her T-shirt at you, “impatient, hm? I like it; makes me feel wanted and beautiful, you know?”. You groan after a particular stroke, “I always want you, beautiful—respectfully”. Xinyu shakes her head as she unbuttons her jeans and pull them down, “you and your words, oppa”.

The sight of Xinyu in her underwear (or naked—just so we’re clear) never gets old for you; “it has to be illegal to be this hot”, you utter while mindlessly stroking your cock. “I can’t get these off, oppa. Wanna help?”, she teases. You’ve never acted so quickly at anyone’s words before, as you jump off the bed and approach her; “woah, relax, oppa”, Xinyu comments. “I don’t know what that word means”, you say, possessed by lust. You make quick work of her bra and panties and throw them to God-knows-where. You then pull her in for a kiss, your tongue wrestling hers like it was AEW.

Xinyu breaks the kiss after a minute so that she can breathe. “Fuck, baby, I want you so bad right now”, you say with a deep, lustful voice. “Just—fuck—just take me already, oppa. I can’t fucking wait anymore”, she says, her breath heavy from the lust. You carry Xinyu to the bed and make her take the bottom position. “Oppa, please, let’s start already—OH”, Xinyu covers her mouth tightly as you immediately ram your cock into her pussy and start fucking her deep. “You’re stretching me, you’re stretching me”, she chants softly in your ear after biting you on the shoulder. You’re tempted to leave a hickey (or a dozen), but you don’t want people to know that you’re having sex, so you leave her neck and chest alone.

Xinyu almost lets out a loud moan, but you squeeze her neck just in time before she does. “I’m sorry, love, but we can’t afford to get caught”, you say to her. “You-you—just cover my mouth, don’t cho-choke me”, she says with troubled breath. You let her neck go and retreat from her exceptionally wet pussy. “On your stomach, please”, you say, “moan into the pillow”. Xinyu nods and rolls over onto her stomach, and you lift her ass up to get a better angle to bang her. After making sure that her face is pressed into the pillow, you start fucking her again, harder this time. You can’t hear what Xinyu’s saying right now, but that’s the whole point of using the pillow.

As you keep fucking her from behind, her asshole keeps peeking from behind her cheeks, and your cock, which has taken over your brain as an organ of thoughts, urges you to do something about it. You take your index finger and touch Xinyu’s rear entrance, and she turns to look at you instantly. “Don’t hurt me, please. I’ve never put anything in there, oppa”, she says. You nod, “do you consent?”. Xinyu gives you a little nod, so you start pushing your finger into her forbidden hole and it forces Xinyu to bite the pillow. “Ngh, you-you’re stretching me, oppa”, she says, and you’re not sure if her expression is that of someone in pain. “Are you okay, baby? Do you want me to pull it out?”, you ask her softly despite your pants. “I-I think I’m fine—try putting in another finger gently”, she says.

You stop your thrusts to focus on the task at hand and put your middle finger in her ass as gently as possible. You hear Xinyu make some sound, but you maintain your concentration and patience to work on her asshole, until her ass finally gives way for your fingers. “S-so full”, she says, “is this what—hngh, God—anal feels like?”. You shake your head in cluelessness, “can I go again, baby?”. “Only if you promise to not your move fingers as you fuck me”, she says. “Of course, love”, you say

You notice as you’re fucking her again that her pussy keeps squeezing your cock randomly and you suspect that she’s close. “Fuck, you’re so tight, princess”, you praise her as you up the pace. “I’m close, oppa; make me cum, please”, she says, confirming your suspicion. Pull out your fingers so that you only need to concentrate on one thing, which is fucking her in the pussy with your cock; “the ass play can wait”, you think to yourself.

“Oppa, I’m cumming; pull out for a second, please”, she utters, so you do as she asks and pull out. You see Xinyu scream into the pillow as you feel her juice hit you in the pelvis area. You wait until she’s done squirting before fucking her again. “I know you’re still sensitive, but I can’t wait. I’m sorry”, you say to her. Xinyu’s moans are getting worryingly loud, so you put a hand on the back of her head to make sure the pillow stifles the sound.

You feel your cock leak in her pussy, and you’re reminded that you haven’t asked if it’s okay to cum inside. “Darling, is it safe today?”, you ask her. “I’ve been taking pills since after my last period, oppa”, she says. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask earlier”, you apologize to her, “I’m cumming inside you, okay, love?”. A few pumps later, you sense that you’re about to bust, so you lodge your cock as deep as you can in her pussy and open the valves. “Stay inside, oppa”, Xinyu says weakly, “God, so warm every time”.

You’ve spent your entire vigor fucking Xinyu, so now you feel weak. “Xinyu-yah, can I pull out now?”, you ask her. “You can, but before you do”, she says, “I want you to take a video of my pussy as your cum drips out of me, oppa”. You’re bewildered by her request, “can I ask why?”. “You’ve said multiple times how hot it looks but I don’t know what it looks like, and now I’m curious”, she answers. You look around the room, “I mean, sure, but where is my phone?”.

Thankfully (and conveniently enough), your phone is on the bedside table under the lamp, within arm’s reach. You open the camera app and switch to video mode, “I’m pulling out, baby”. You aim the camera at your cock as you’re pulling out, and it only occurs to you now how big of a cock it looks, especially on camera; no wonder Xinyu was intimidated and hesitant at first. After your whole shaft is out, you move your aim to record her pussy and wait until your cum starts spilling out of her. “Oh, that’s so thick actually”, you comment as you see your cum escape her pussy. “Yeah, your cum is always thick”, Xinyu replies, “now mute the audio and send it to me”. You fiddle with your phone for a moment and notify her that it’s been done, and Xinyu drops her waist onto the bed to rest.

“You and I are not finished yet, miss vice president”, you say as you lift and carry her on your shoulder. “You want to go again, oppa? You want to make me scream my lungs out this time?”, she says—Xinyu has this pure, innocent girl façade but she’s quite naughty actually. You chuckle, “I’m spent, love. What I meant is I want to help you clean up—stop being so perverted all the time, hon, damn”. ��Aaah, oppa, why are you teasing me like that? It’s not my fault you’re so good at sex”, she complains while smacking your back playfully.

You make her sit on the toilet and kneel in front of her. “I’m good at sex because of you, love. You’re my first so I hadn’t the slightest clue about sex back then, but you patiently helped and guided me and here we are”, you tell her. You always mean what you say—well, 90% of the time—so Xinyu knows without a shadow of a doubt that your words are sincere. “You just fucked my brains out and now you’re talking like this, oppa?”, Xinyu says. She then takes a breath and starts her rant: “this is why I want to stay by your side, oppa. Imagine what it would be like for me if you left and then I got with someone else and because I’ve been so conditioned to hearing your sincerity and honesty, I couldn’t tell if my boyfriend was lying, and then—". You cut off her train of words with a kiss. “I understand, love. I want to stay with you as much as you want to stay with me—cross my heart”, you say to her with a smile. “There you go, son”, the angel makes a return and commends you, “you’ve finally remembered how important she is to you”.

You stand up and pull her into the shower, and then Xinyu pulls you into another kiss. “Your cock is poking me”, she giggles, “are you actually still horny? Want me to suck you?”. ‘Tis your turn to chuckle, “how can I not have a boner when you’re naked in front of me?”. She turns away from you and puts her hands on the wall, “One day, I’ll be naked for you 24/7 and just let you do whatever to me: play with my tits, cum on my face, shove your cock down my throat, et cetera”. You feel a rush of excitement in your head instantly, “um, can we do that next weekend?”. She lets out a laugh, “you can’t have enough of me ever, can you?”.

“No”, you say firmly, “I can’t. You’re just too hot”.

#triples smut #girl group smut #kpop smut #smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #male reader smut #male reader

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tkaulitzlvr · 1 year

Note

Plz write about reader accidentally kissing someone else. Thanks in advance!

MISTAKE - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: a fan puts you in an awkward situation, tom getting the complete wrong idea, putting a divide between the two of you as you try to explain yourself, tom thinking of a different way to resolve this.

content: angst, angry sex, a little fluff at the end.

a/n: thank you for the request i hope u like it, i had sm fun writing this!! sorry it’s so long i got carried away…😭😭

“oh my god i love you so much!” another fan says, tears streaming down her face as i sign her autograph, sending her a warm smile and moving onto the next.

tom isn’t too far behind me, signing other fans autographs and taking pictures with the rest of the band, this being the standard before and after every event. we had just wrapped up the 2008 EMAs, getting ready to leave, not before acknowledging his fans. with me being his long term girlfriend, aside from the occasional fan who would hate on me purely out of spite, i had become quite popular amongst his fanbase, signing autographs and interacting with them turning into a regular occurrence, but i didn’t mind it. these people had given tom the success he has, and i couldnt thank them enough, taking pictures and speaking with them, even if it is only for a few seconds, being the least i could do.

and to say that tom likes how much his fans adore me is an understatement. he treats me like his prized possession, his face beaming with pride as i speak with every fan i can, occasionally turning around to see him smiling back at me, so much love in his eyes that my heart could melt at the sight. he wore two headbands, one black and the other grey, his long dreads tied up in a ponytail, losing his usual flat cap and opting for a dark brown t-shirt that read ‘tokio hotel’.

i however, wore a long black dress, the bottom split at one side, the material hugging my figure perfectly, paired with some black heels, my hair straightened and makeup caked on, excessive amounts of jewellery around my body. i was surprised tom hadn’t made any moves on me the whole night, the public eye never really stopping the PDA from him. he didn’t shy away from telling me how beautiful i looked before we arrived, promising that he would show me once we were back at the hotel room, and i knew exactly what that would entail, the details better left unsaid.

my body begins to feel slightly tired after being at the award show for hours, the amount of fans that i’m yet to speak to not going down. i approach the next one, already a little weirded out. he looks around my age, maybe a few years older, a strange smirk on his face as his eyes rake down my body, undressing me with his gaze. i already feel uncomfortable, unsure of what to say as his eyes stop at my cleavage, not even uttering a word.

“hey! how are you, is there anything that you want me to sign?” i eventually say, the guy quickly looking upwards, as if he hadn’t been checking out every inch of my body seconds before.

“can i get a picture?” he says simply, his tongue poking out as he slowly licks his lips, not breaking eye contact with me.

my insides are churning, the thought of him checking me out making me want to throw up, internally praying that tom could be beside me right now. i quickly look over, seeing him too immersed in signing fans autographs to glance in my direction, the high pitched sound of girls screaming his name leaving him a little distracted from me, understandably. i plaster a forced smile on my face, trying to be done with this guy as soon as possible so i can move away from him, already feeling super on edge.

“of course!” i say, moving closer to the barricade as he pulls out his phone.

he moves his hand, reaching it outwards as i assume he is going to put a friendly arm around my shoulder, not minding this as it’s something a lot of fans do. instead, his hand stretches towards my face, turning it so that it is facing him instead of the camera like it previously was, placing a kiss onto my lips before i can even register what is happening.

the second that i process another person’s lips are touching mine, a person that isn’t tom, i frantically pull away, my breathing fast and heavy as i quickly turn to face tom. he is already looking at me, having just witnessed the entire thing from a few metres away. he is pissed. his jaw clenched, eyes hooded, chest heaving up and down as he completely ignores the girls shoving paper and pens at him, begging for an autograph.

i ignore the guy, knowing that if i speak my mind to him in this moment, i’ll deal with a pretty big scandal. instead, i rush over to tom, tears clouding my vision, trying to push them back as i force a smile, walking over as he steps back from the fans, facing away from the crowd.

“we’re gonna talk about this once we get back. don’t think that you’re getting off the hook, what the actual fuck?” he whispers, his teeth gritted. “now you’re gonna act like everything is fine until this whole thing is over, yeah?”

“but tom i-” i begin, desperately trying to explain myself.

“i don’t wanna fucking hear it. you’ve done enough, don’t you think? now smile.” he mutters, quickly turning back around to the crowd, wrapping his arm around my waist and planting a kiss onto my cheek as if nothing has happened.

the fans go wild, screaming loudly, the paparazzi loving this, knowing that pictures of tom and i are something that the world goes literally crazy for. flashing lights blind my vision as i try to blink the tears away, doing so successfully, putting my emotions aside for the sake of tom’s career, desperate to get out of here so that i can explain myself, tom clearly getting the wrong idea.

“kiss her properly tom!” someone within the crowd of paparazzi shouts, tom flashing them all a smile, pecking my lips as the cameras go wild, taking advantage of the opportunity. i can tell that he is pissed from the way his lips touch mine, his hand around my waist, the other hanging loosely by his side, no love in the kiss. but he doesn’t let anyone else see that. to anybody else, it would look completely normal, like a couple with no problems, not as if tom had witnessed me kiss another guy with zero context. his hand grasps mine, interlocking our fingers, taking me over to an interviewer beckoning us over, this the part i am dreading most.

she smiles warmly at us, speaking into the microphone, tom still holding my hand, squeezing it slightly, this not to comfort me, but to remind me to act normal.

“so guys, how are you both? and, congratulations to you, tom, and the rest of tokio hotel for winning an award tonight!” she says, pointing the microphone to tom as he smiles before speaking into it.

“we’re doing great. it feels so crazy to win another award with the band, we couldn’t have done it without our fans, so thank you, all of you.” he says, smiling warmly at the camera as the interviewer takes the mic back.

“and, as tom’s girlfriend, how does it feel to be here with him tonight, and, i’m guessing there’s gonna be big celebrations later on!” she laughs, winking at me when saying the last part.

“yeah, it’s amazing. i feel so honoured to be here with him and the rest of the band tonight, i’m just so proud of how far he’s come, and i’m so thankful to be on this journey with him.” i nod, smiling and looking into his eyes as convincingly as i can, kissing him lightly on the cheek.

tom leans into the mic, the interviewer pointing it in his direction. “and to answer the second part of your question, i don’t think we’re gonna be doing much sleeping tonight.” he smirks, winking in my direction as i laugh lightly, smacking his arm and rolling my eyes playfully.

as angry at he is right now, he is good at not showing it as even i question if he is acting anymore, his affection so natural that it doesn’t seem forced.

the interview drags on for at least another ten minutes, asking questions about our relationship, to which we answer the best we can, appearing to convince the interviewer and crowd pretty well. she ends it by thanking us, wishing us a great night as we walk away, big smiles plastered on our faces as we head to take more pictures, paparazzi again demanding us to be as intimate as we can, tom and i obliging, followed by more interviews.

“tom can you please just listen to me-”

“i don’t want to hear it, just get in the car.” he says, opening the door for me and climbing in, sitting silently with his arms crossed as the car falls silent, the driver taking us to the hotel room.

the entire ride home is silent, tom completely ignoring me as he won’t touch or even look at me, his head resting on the window, jaw clenched and his entire expression angry. i try to hold his hand, moving my fingers and attempting to intertwine them with his, but he shrugs them off, refusing to say a word.

we stop outside the hotel, the driver opening the door for us as we both say our thanks, stepping out of the car. tom walks ahead, not waiting for me as i struggle to keep up, only catching up once he buzzes for the elevator, both of us stepping inside, tom standing on the other side, looking downwards at his feet and refusing to make eye contact with me.

“baby please just let me talk, i can explain.” i plead, my voice a little shaky, slightly scared of his ability to so naturally act like he is in love with me in front of the cameras, but once we are alone, he can turn from caring to cold in seconds.

“what, you can explain kissing another guy right in front of me? can you fucking hear yourself?” he scoffs, tutting as the elevator opens. his hands are in his pockets as he lifts his body up from where it was slouched against the wall of the elevator, walking ahead of me once again, using his key card and entering the hotel room, finding the rest of the band already there. they had left earlier than us, already finished with their interviews as the band had done their collective ones earlier on, tom and i only needing to stay to do our separate ones.

“hey guys.” tom says, saying nothing more as he walks into our shared bedroom.

bill furrows his eyebrows in confusion, and i send him a small smile, mouthing ‘i’ll explain later’, before following where tom had gone. the bedroom is dark, tom not in there, but the balcony doors are open. i can make out his figure through the darkness, smoke coming from his mouth as i look towards the lit cigarette in his hands, hesitantly joining him on the balcony which overlooks the city.

he takes a quick glance at me, looking forwards and ignoring me as he had since the incident had happened.

“you gonna keep ignoring me? or can i explain?” i ask, trying to stand a little closer to him, testing what my boundaries are.

“nothing for you to explain.” he mutters, bringing the cig to his lips, inhaling and watching the smoke exit his mouth.

the cold breeze of the night causes me to shiver a little, my strapless dress not helping me out as i rub my hands up and down my arms in an attempt to warm myself up.

“i didn’t fucking kiss him. jesus christ do you think i’m some slut who can’t contain myself? i haven’t cheated on you throughout our whole relationship, tom, and i definitely wouldn’t do it in public like that.” i sigh, the tears already beginning to form in my eyes as i can see that he isn’t in any position to hear me out, his mind already set on what he thinks he has witnessed.

“what so i was fucking hallucinating when i saw him kiss you?” he scoffs sarcastically, putting his cig out and looking into my eyes for the first time, his full of rage, a lit fuse ready to blow. he shakes his head when i stay silent, walking back into the bedroom.

i don’t give up yet, quickly following him into the room.

“he asked for a picture. i wasn’t even looking at him, i was looking into his camera. he grabbed my face and kissed me. he forced me onto him, and i pulled away. so can you stop being so fucking stubborn, ‘cause i’m tired of this shit. i shouldn’t feel bad when you’re too childish to hear me out! so fucking grow a pair and-”

my heated rambling is quickly cut off my tom firmly pressing his lips against mine, walking me backwards until my back harshly collides with the wall, a gasp leaving my mouth as i do so.

“fucking shut up.” he mumbles against my lips, his hand reaching behind me as he quickly pulls the zipper of my dress down, pushing his tongue into my mouth and kissing me with so much hunger that it is hard to remember why we were even arguing in the first place.

but the harshness of his kiss tells me that he is still irritated, taking out his anger on me in the best way possible, his hands reaching for the top of my dress, pulling it down my frame without removing his lips from mine, letting it hit the floor, leaving me in only my black lace panties.

he moves his hands to underneath my thighs, lifting them up in one smooth motion, wrapping them tightly around his waist as he walks us to the bed, his tongue still exploring my mouth, only fuelling the need to feel him inside me, the burning in between my thighs getting harder and harder to ignore.

he lays me on the bed, wasting no time in climbing on top of me, my hands scrambling to removing his t-shirt, lifting the material up and over his head. he moves his knee in between my thighs as he unbuckles his belt, the hunger mixed with pure lust causing me to grind on him, brushing perfectly against my clit as i sigh out in pleasure. tom has his tongue pressed to the corner of his mouth, almost mocking my desperation.

“getting off on my knee, you’re that needy? baby you need to use your words. i’ll give you what you want, you just need to say the word.” he teases, pulling his pants down and throwing them somewhere on the floor, leaving him in just his boxers, our underwear now the only thing separating us.

he climbs back on top of me, moving his knee as i whine slightly, a little frustrated at the loss of contact. he buries his head in the crook of my neck, biting at the skin harshly, soothing the slight pain with his tongue after, sending a chill down my body, my breathing becoming erratic as he begins to grind down on me, knowing exactly how to tease me.

“you know what you want.” he whispers against the skin of my neck, before carrying on placing slow and wet kisses there, knowing he will leave marks afterwards. “just say it. say what you want.”

i feel him smile against me, enjoying the way i wither beneath him, completely at his mercy, so desperate to feel his dick inside me.

“i need you…inside me.” i breathe out, my fingers moving to the inside of his boxers, fiddling with the waistband as i just want them off, tired of his teasing.

“was that so hard?” he asks, kissing me roughly as he moves my hands away, tugging his boxers down and moving to my panties, pulling his lips away from me and using his teeth to pull them down a little, loving the way my breath hitches in my throat when he does this. he replaces his mouth with his hands, swiftly taking my panties off, leaving us both naked.

“don’t think i’m going easy on you. i’m still pissed about earlier.” he begins, positioning his tip at my entrance. “i just knew i’d be able to get you all worked up doing this.”

he stops, looking into my eyes as our faces are inches apart, before moving into me, stretching my walls as he gives me no time to adjust, bottoming out inside me and almost completely pulling out, snapping his hips once again.

“fuck- too much.” i whine, the pain overtaking the pleasure as i squeeze his bicep, my eyes watering as my teeth sink into my bottom lip.

“i thought you wanted this.” he taunts, slowly moving out of me again, before thrusting into me again, a restrained groan escaping his mouth. “can you not take it, hm?”

all i can do is moan in response, trying to caress his chest as he begins a fast rhythm, showing no remorse as he moves in and out of me at a rapid pace.

“mm, no touching.” he says, taking both my arms and placing them above my head, using one hand to hold them in place, whilst the other begins to toy with my clit, the pain quickly subsiding as i am lost in pure ecstasy.

his tip brushes over my g-spot, a loud moan emitting from my parted lips, my eyes screwing shut, unable to take the pleasure as it hits me faster than ever.

“oh my god, there…right there, please tom!” i cry out, biting my lip to try and contain my moans, remembering that the rest of the band are right down the hall, not wanting them to hear any of this.

“here?” he teases, angling himself so that he isn’t just brushing over the spot, his tip is directly hitting it over and over again, my release fast approaching.

“that guy…” he begins, pressing his hand on my lower stomach, the print of his dick moving in and out of me now visible. “he couldn’t fuck you like this. only i can, mhm? say it.”

i am so lost in pleasure that i don’t even register what he is saying, my eyes rolling to the back of my head, legs going numb as they instinctively wrap around his waist, bringing him closer into me, allowing him to drill into me even deeper with each thrust, hitting angles that i had never felt before. i don’t comprehend his words until i feel his thumb touch my bottom lip, dragging downwards until it releases with a pop.

“fucking say it.” he demands, grunting lowly and moving in and out of me even harder, my legs feeling a dull ache between them as the knot in my stomach only tightens, my release fast approaching.

“only- fuck! only you can do this.” i manage to breathe out, my words so incoherent that they can barely be made out, so lost in pleasure that i am beyond the point of caring.

“i’m close baby.” tom says, connecting his lips with mine once again, our mouths sloppily colliding as small moans are muffled within the kiss. i can’t even tell him that i am close too, but the way i clench around him gives him enough of an idea.

his dick twitches inside of me as he pulls away, his mouth hanging open whilst his head falls back, a choked moan escaping his mouth as i feel his cum coat my walls, this triggering my own release. my ability to speak is quickly lost, a high pitched moan leaving my mouth as i let my release take over, my vision clouding up as the pleasure becomes too much, tom clearly not looking to stop as he chases another release, my eyes squeezing shut as i quickly become overstimulated.

“too much…” i whine. “cant take it.”

“should’ve thought about that before you let me catch another guy kissing you. i’m not stopping till you fucking understand only i can do that.” he replies, flipping us over so that i am on top.

“ride.” he says, placing his hands on my hips as mine rest on his shoulders, his lips moving to my collarbone.

“i can’t.” i sigh, tears clouding my vision as i fall onto him, completely exhausted. my legs ache, my inner thighs sore from him not letting me adjust, my throat dry from the sounds he made leave my mouth.

he sighs, guilt taking over his expression as he begins to feel a little bad, his hands reaching to rub my back.

“you did so good schatz.” he says, pulling out of me as i whine from the loss of contact, my body hot, forehead glistening with sweat. “you okay? did i go too hard. sorry, i was just angry, if i took it too far you have to-”

i cut him off by gently pecking his lips, reassuring him. “it’s fine, tom, i’m okay. i’m really sorry about tonight.”

“it wasn’t your fault. sorry i was such an ass about it.” he apologises, tracing random shapes along my back. “i think it’s best i don’t leave your side in public from now on, yeah? i swear to god if i see that asshole again-”

“don’t worry about it, it’s okay now.” i laugh, taking his hand and playing with his fingers, my breathing slowing down. “i don’t think he’ll be coming to anymore events that we’re at, you should’ve seen how humiliated he was when i pulled away. fucking loser, i don’t understand what else he wanted me to do.”

he chuckles slightly, tightening his hold on me and planting a soft kiss on my forehead. “let’s get you cleaned up.”

he takes my hand, laughing at the way my legs shake as i struggle to walk, taking me towards the bathroom and running me a bath, showering me with kisses for the rest of the night.

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

#tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz x reader #tokiohotel #tom kaulitz smut #kaulitz twins #tom kaulitz angst #kaulitz #tom kaulitz fluff #tomkaulitz #bill kaulitz

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zepskies · 1 year

Text

Love Actually - Part 2

Paring: Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

Summary: You and Ben steel yourselves in order to meet your crazy family for Christmas dinner.

AN: Here’s the requested Part 2! It got too long, so I had to break it up lol. There will be a Part 3 after this (final part). I also tried really hard to find an image/gif that would match this chapter better, but alas, there are only so many pictures of this scruffy guy. (And none in a real suit. 😂)

Read Part 1

Remember, this story is set in the same world as “Break Me Down,” and set before “Checkerboard.” But this can be read as a stand-alone! Hope you enjoy…

Word Count: 4,800 Tags/Warnings: Tense situations, bit of angst, lots of sexy fluff

Part 2: "Season’s Greetings"

Ben checked his watch again.

He’d lost count of how many times, how many minutes, how long he’d been waiting for you to come down the goddamn stairs so he could get this night over with.

You’d been getting ready for this dinner with your family for four hours. How long did it take you to slap on some makeup and throw on a dress?

Finally, he heaved a sigh and got up from the couch, adjusting the watch on his wrist. He stayed by the foot of the stairs and called up to you.

“Hey. What’s taking so damn long?” he asked. His brows were furrowed, mouth set in an aggravated frown. “I already told you. I’m not planning on being at this thing all night. So if you don’t come down here in the next ten minutes, I swear to fucking Christ—”

Ben stopped short, as he heard your footsteps at the top of the stairs. When he looked up with expectant, pursed lips, his face subtly froze.

“What? What’re you gonna do?” you teased. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you grasped the guardrail and carefully made your way down the stairs. These heels were no joke.

You had a black suede clutch tucked in your other hand, but Ben was drawn to the bright red of your dress. The color alone appealed to him. It called back a memory of a musty club, rich whiskey, and the dulcet tones of your voice.

But now, this dress was shorter. It also hugged your every curve and stopped just a few inches above the knee. He noticed a tantalizing little slit in the back, at the hem, leading his eyes down your sheer pantyhose and down to the tall, black heels.

His lips formed a teasing smile. “You sure you can walk in those?”

But you could see the truth in his eyes; he liked what he saw. They raked back up your body, taking in the short sleeves, the slight plunge of the neckline, the red lipstick as bright as your dress, the soft sweep of eyeliner and dark lashes—and you hoped he noticed the way you’d painstakingly done your hair into soft, ‘40s style waves.

“Do I look shaky to you?” you countered.

Ben tilted his head slightly as he stared up at you. “Not one bit.”

He reached out for you on the last step of the stairs. You took his hand and gave him a grateful look, but your hand didn’t stop there. It grazed up the sleeve of his suit jacket as you took him in with a smile.

Not often one to don a simple black suit, Ben went with a charcoal gray against a crisp black undershirt. No tie though, leaving the first couple of buttons casually open.

“Look at my man, all sharp and modern and sexy as hell,” you purred. He accepted the praise with a pleased quirk of his lips.

Normally you wouldn’t try to feed his peacock-level pride too much. He knew he was a damn fine-looking man. However, you also knew he wasn’t totally into meeting the rest of your family tonight. You knew you needed to give him a (well earned) ego boost.

“Gotta match my girl,” said Ben. Though he fingered the ends of your softly curled hair with a more genuine glint to his smile. “Though you’ve gone a bit vintage.”

“Compromise.” You grinned, and you leaned up for a soft kiss.

He met you there, even pressing his luck when his tongue begged entrance against your lips. You held his cheek and brushed your thumb there tenderly, but you soon broke away.

“We’ve got somewhere to be,” you reminded him. Ben sighed through his nose, though his hands molded to your waist.

“I didn’t realize you were that kinky,” he said. His voice was deep and suggestive. Your face started to heat up, even as your brows knitted with confusion.

“What?” you asked.

“I know you’re not gonna make me wait all night to get a taste of this,” he said. And he leaned down to begin plying you with his heavy hands and his lips along your neck. “I gotta assume you want me to fuck you in your mom’s house.”

You uttered a shocked laugh. You batted his shoulder, even though it didn’t even make him blink. His lips curved as they grazed your neck. He inhaled under your ear, making a pleasant shudder run down your spine. He hummed in approval.

“Is that the perfume I got you?” he asked.

“Mhmm,” you nodded. “I like it a lot. Makes me feel all warm and spicy.”

Ben chuckled into your neck. He did pull back eventually to thumb around the edge of one of your earrings—the second part of his Christmas gift to you. The white stone and silver filigree shone in the light.

“They look good,” he remarked, giving you a charming smile. “Better on you than the catalogue girl.”

Now that was an image. Soldier Boy: browsing through a magazine of women’s jewelry. You smiled brightly at him.

“Thank you, baby,” you replied. “They really are beautiful.”

Then you glanced down to find your gift to him on his wrist: a new silver Rolex. You turned his hand over to make sure that it fit him right.

“Not too tight, right? Not too loose.” you asked.

He shook his head. “Nah, it’s good.”

“Just good? Does it still need adjusting? We can go back to the store and have them fix it—”

“It’s perfect, sweetheart. Stop fussing,” he said. Your lips pursed as you looked up at him from the watch.

“I just want to make sure you’re happy with it, that’s all,” you said.

“I am,” he replied. But his smile, the hidden glint of something in his eyes, made you blush. Inside, you were warm and pleased.

“All right, let’s go then,” you said. “I’ve got the rum cake, and the actual rum ready to go in the kitchen. And the presents are lined up by the door. Can you load those up in the car for me while I get the food?”

Ben obliged you, though he soon balked at the army of presents waiting for him by the door. When did you have time to get all of these? He didn’t remember you buying all this shit.

Though he realized, this must’ve been how you filled your time after work, while he was gone for the past two weeks on that mission.

As he loaded the gifts into the car, Ben reluctantly remembered that it had been…strange, to be away from you. For the past few months, you two had fallen into a rhythm. Waking up to each other, busy morning routines before work, sharing your evenings afterwards.

You had also been making it your mission to find new things to do together. Like paintballing, of all things. Or comedy shows, new movies and restaurants, concerts, club nights with your friends. Though it was weird for him, sometimes, to go to a show without all the celebrity fanfare he used to get as Soldier Boy.

Well, he was still Soldier Boy. He just wasn’t getting paid anywhere near the same as he used to. (But let’s face it, he didn’t need the damn money. He’d earned plenty in 40 years of fame and family inheritance.)

People still knew his name, still worshiped him at times, but it wasn’t the same. He wasn’t part of Vought’s machine anymore. No one really told him what to do, but if he wanted this life—here, in upstate New York—he was forced to make efforts to color within the lines of the law (mostly). Hell, he actually worked for a living. Even if it was for the government.

The point was, he was part of something. And it wasn’t totally shit, even if he was surrounded by morons on a daily basis…

By the time you opened the passenger side door to interrupt his musings, Ben remembered to actually start the car.

“You okay?” you asked as you clicked in your seatbelt. You were keeping a close eye on him tonight, trying to gauge his shifting moods.

Ben hesitated, but when he glanced over at you, he reached over and thumbed at your chin, under those ruby red lips. It made you smile.

“Yeah,” he replied. Though he let out a subtle breath as he faced the road and took the wheel of the car. Ever perceptive though, you sent him an assessing look.

“You’re not nervous, are you?” you asked. His brows furrowed slightly.

“Why would I be?” he asked, his voice a bit sharp. Defensive, you interpreted.

Instead of answering, you leaned over and laid a hand on his thigh.

“Look, my mom already likes you. Louisa’s going to come around,” you said. Your mouth edged into a smile, of sorts. “I just need you to stop me from killing my aunt with a ladle.”

Ben snorted in response. “All right.”

When the two of you arrived at your mother’s house, she opened the door to her home and greeted your boyfriend like a long-lost son.

“Oh, Ben! Come in, please,” she beckoned, grabbing his arm and guiding him inside. “You look so handsome, my goodness!”

Ben couldn’t help offering a smile. It was infused with his usual charm.

“Marie,” he greeted with a nod. You shook your head, despite your own smile. Ben liked attention—along with a bit of praise and fanfare went without saying. And you knew your mom wouldn’t be the only one to play into that tonight.

“Hi, Mom,” you said pointedly, with a hand on your hip. Marie turned to you with a bright smile.

“Oh! Honey, there you are. Merry Christmas!” She brought you in and hugged you tight. She then fairly gushed as she took in your dress and touched your hair. “Oh, you look so beautiful. I wish you’d come earlier though. I need you to help me and Trina. Come on.”

Marie glanced up at Ben again. “Oh, you too, hun! We can introduce you to everyone.”

Ben nodded. He followed your lead behind your mother, and you inwardly steeled yourself on the way to the kitchen. The familiar smells awaiting you brought you back to the better parts of your childhood. Ones that were filled with music, laughs, and good food.

And if there was one redeeming quality about your Aunt Trina, it was that she could cook her ass off. Since your mom had always been more of the “boxed meal” variety cook, Trina always took over at Thanksgiving and Christmas, and just about every other family gathering.

She was putting the ham in the oven while your sister sat at the kitchen table with your Grandpa George, peeling potatoes. The bigger table in the dining room was currently set up with appetizers and wine.

But the sounds of chatter and pots and pans and cabinets closing—it all stopped when you and Ben entered the kitchen. You felt his hand at the small of your back, and whether he meant it to or not, that familiar touch stabilized you.

Even Trina stopped giving Louisa directions on how to correctly peel and cut the potatoes for boiling. Her mouth opened when she took in the sight of Ben, from head to toe.

“Good evening,” he said, if only to break the silence.

But you knew the rest was up to you. You curled a hand around his solid arm and gave him a smile, before looking to your family.

“Hey, guys. Merry Christmas!” you greeted. “This is my boyfriend, Ben.”

Trina squealed in excitement. She came over (with a wooden spoon in hand) to give you an enthusiastic hug and kiss. She held your arms and looked between you and Ben.

“Your mom said you were dating a superhero, but I had no idea…” she twittered. “I mean…it’s Soldier Boy. He’s in my kitchen!”

“It’s Mom’s kitchen, actually,” you muttered. Trina’s excitement dimmed slightly as she rolled her eyes at you.

“Ever the smart mouth,” she said, playfully whacking you in the ass with her spoon.

Ben smirked. He certainly agreed with your aunt’s assessment. He turned to her to offer something in greeting, but before he could, Louisa’s voice cut in from across the room.

“What should we call you? Ben, or Soldier Boy?” she asked dryly.

You frowned, gave your sister a look. Meanwhile, Ben didn’t quite make it to a smile, but he was civil when he answered her.

“Ben’s fine.”

You remained in the kitchen to help out, while Ben migrated to the living room with your grandfather. Ben grabbed a large glass of wine on his way there, along with a few mini quiche to tide him over until dinner.

He then noticed an old woman sleeping on the leather recliner.

“Who’s that?” he asked George.

“Oh, that’s Great Aunt Sylvia,” George said. “She just took an oxy for her hip. She’ll be passed out ‘til dinner.”

Ben blinked at the casual mention of oxycodone, but he wouldn’t mind a few of what Sylvia was having. Oxy gave him such a nice buzz.

But instead, he and George sat on opposite ends of the couch while Sylvia snored away.

For a moment, it was quiet, save for the soft crooning of Nat King Cole playing (and Sylvia). The music came from a small round speaker on the coffee table, Ben noticed. You’d told him about Alexa and Siri and all those techno bitches out there now, controlling people’s houses. He didn’t trust it.

“You like baseball?” George asked as he turned on the TV. Ben nodded, and the other man put on a game. Mets versus the Cubs, three to one. The men were silent for a while as they watched the game.

Unfortunately for Ben, that peace couldn’t last.

“So,” George started. “You’re a supe, huh?”

Ben inclined his head, sipping at his wine. This was what he fucking hated. Small talk.

“I remember you,” George said. “My wife and I liked that movie you made…King of Kings. With Charlton Heston. What a classic that guy was.”

Ben smiled. “He was a good time. Drank like a fucking fish.”

George raised a brow. “Did he? Well, we all need a glass every now and then.”

Ben nodded, taking a pointed sip of his wine.

“Heston. One of the few celebrities I gave a shit about when he died,” George said with a shake of his head. “Wasn’t long before my wife’s passing.”

You’d told Ben a lot about your grandmother. When your parents got divorced, she’d insisted that you, your mom, and your sister live with her and George. She didn’t want to take any chances with your dad, who’d been more than unstable at the time in his drinking.

Ben didn’t often pray. But he drank then with a silent toast, that good ole’ Jon was getting hot coals up the ass right about now. In hell.

Ben then considered your grandfather’s musings, realizing he hadn’t thought about his old pal Heston in a long time.

“How’d he die?” Ben asked. George glanced over at him.

“Well, official case was pneumonia. But it wasn’t all that clear,” he said. “However, I think he had a flare up.”

“Of what?” Ben asked.

George gave him a wry look. “The fate that all men fear. Ass cancer.”

Ben raised a brow, his mouth twitching. He had a feeling he knew where your sense of humor came from.

“You probably don’t have to worry about that,” George waved a dismissive hand. “You’re still young. Well, sort of…I mean, being superhuman and all that. I’m sure that comes in handy with the normal stuff, like the sniffles and whatnot…and hey! At least you won’t have to worry about your asshole fallin’ out.”

Ben actually smiled. Now he knew you were related to this man.

In the kitchen, you were trying and failing to dodge a game of “Twenty Questions” with your aunt, while you and your sister finished cutting potatoes. All of the questions were predictably centered around Ben. Luckily, you had a plate of mini quiche, cheese, and salami between you and Louisa to keep you pacified.

“Well, you’ve done well for yourself, I’ll give you that,” Trina said. “But why on God’s green Earth didn’t you tell us you were dating Soldier Boy? How the hell did you even meet him?”

Shit. There was more than one reason you hadn’t told the rest of your family yet, and this was partly it. How the hell were you supposed to explain this?

Louisa shot you a knowing look, along with a raised brow.

“Well, I was actually assigned to find him after he…went missing last year,” you said, keeping things purposefully vague. “We met and…things just kind of took off from there.”

Your mom and your sister didn’t even know all the details, but they knew this much. After Soldier Boy used his nuclear power to end Homelander, he’d escaped in the aftermath.

You’d been working a year in Surveillance at Supe Affairs, but you’d been a private investigator by trade, previously working at your father’s firm. You’d even worked at Vought for a few years, before joining the S.A.

You were then recruited by Grace Mallory to track down Soldier Boy, along with Butcher and his team.

…And that’s where things got complicated.

“But isn��t Soldier Boy the one who killed Homelander?” Trina asked. She stopped in her stirring of the cranberry sauce to look back at you. And you met her stare directly.

“Yes. He was partnered with the CIA on that.” Sort of. You added, “Homelander wasn’t the hero you all thought you knew, remember? He was a raging psychopath.”

Trina huffed at that.

“So was your father. And you still worked with him for years,” she remarked, even off-handedly as she went back to stirring.

Your entire body stilled. Inside, your temper was a lit fuse, preparing to ignite. You stuffed a mini quiche into your mouth to stop you from exploding.

And your mom and your sister recognized the danger. Louisa frowned tightly and touched your arm.

She had been too young to form a true relationship with your father by the time your parents were divorced, and your grandparents (and later you) hadn’t allowed Jon to interfere too much with Louisa's life. So Jon’s death, a mere seven months ago, hadn’t truly affected her as deeply as it had you.

And that in itself was complicated.

Marie paused in preparing the sweet potato casserole to give her sister a warning look.

“Trina, that’s not fair,” said Marie.

Your aunt shrugged. “It’s the truth, isn’t it?”

Slowly, you stood. You grabbed a hand towel and brushed the velvety remains of potato skin from your hands. You also took the plate of cheese cubes and salami with you.

“Honey, she just means—”

“I know what she meant, Mom,” you said. Your mother wasn’t confrontational. She would never tell her sister to shut the fuck up when she was being out of pocket.

But you had no problem doing so. You walked over to Trina, who saw the look in your eye and actually relented, realizing that there was, in fact, a line, and she had crossed it.

“Look, I’d like us to continue having a nice evening,” you told her. “Mention my father again, and it won’t be.”

After a moment, Trina nodded.

“You’re right. I shouldn’t have said that. Don’t mind me,” she said. But then, she smiled. “I’m really happy for you, sweetheart. You’ve got a superhero! Who knew you’d pull that one off, huh?”

Your flat smile remained. “Oh, yeah? How do you mean?”

Trina faltered. Apparently, she hadn’t expected that.

“Oh. Well, you know…”

“No. I really don’t. Can you clarify for me?” you asked, using the same even tone you employed with testy co-workers on the Surveillance team.

Trina sighed. “Oh, honey. You’re a beautiful girl, but…”

“What?” you challenged. “Just say it.”

Behind Trina’s coil of dark hair piled on her head, Marie looked worried. Louisa was also on tenterhooks, gripping the kitchen table. She slowly got to her feet though, in case she needed to intervene.

“Well, I wasn’t gonna say anything,” Trina said. She gestured to you, after grabbing a cheese cube off your plate. “But your hips, hun. I mean, I enjoy a snack. A bon bon. A chocolate eclair. The occasional croissant, but the weight don’t come off easier as you get older, does it?”

You were officially burning like a tea kettle.

“And with a man like that…” Trina fanned herself with the discarded, empty bag of cranberries. “Mother of God. He’s gotta be beating ‘em off with a fucking stick.”

Your mom pursed her lips at the salty language, giving Trina a sharp glance (for multiple reasons).

Trina noticed, but she only popped another piece of salami into her mouth. “Sorry, hun.”

But then she turned back to you.

“And have you talked about kids yet? That’ll be some serious weight gain.”

You let out a sharp breath and raised your gaze heavenward, pleading for mercy.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered.

“I’m just sayin’!” she said. “He might have forever, but you certainly don’t.”

Now that one struck a nerve. Perhaps not the one she intended, but it cut deeply into you all the same. You and Ben had agreed to pin that conversation for now, but the fact was, he would continue to age much slower than you.

At your steely glare, Trina again raised her hands. This time in placating defense. “I’m trying to help you, is all I’m saying.”

You gripped the edge of the kitchen counter so tight you thought a manicured nail might break off. You’d reached the end of your tether.

“I’ve been here for all of five minutes—”

“Okay, you know what?” Louisa finally stepped in and grabbed your arm. “I need your help. Let’s find the red tablecloth so we can set the table.”

She led you out of the kitchen and into the hall, but you stopped short so fast that you skidded a bit in your heels. You took deep breaths and braced a hand against the wall.

You turned to your sister. “Why doesn’t she attack you like that?”

“Oh, believe me,” Louisa said, rolling her eyes. “I had my turn before you got here. I’ve been locked in with these clucking hens all morning.”

A grin twitched at the corner of your lips.

“My condolences,” you said. But then, you look at your sister a bit harder. “And you. What’s your problem, huh? How long are you going to give Ben a hard time?”

It took her a moment, but Louisa eventually sighed.

“I mean, Aunt Trina’s an asshole, but she kind of said it. He’s literally a century-years-old,” she said. “How do you not have a problem with that?”

You crossed your arms, though you knew you didn’t have a good answer for that one.

“Age is…relative.” You struggled against a wince.

“He lived through the damn Dust Bowl,” Louisa deadpanned. “He’s fucking ancient.”

You glared back at her. “Okay, enough. What’s your real problem, huh? I mean really.”

Louisa let out another sigh. Her hands went to her hips. You hadn’t had a chance to tell her, but she looked pretty tonight too in her black dress. It flared at the waist and reached her knees, and she’d paired it with some chunky red heels. She was a little taller than you normally, but not by much. As the older sister, you enjoyed finally being taller than her for once in your higher heels.

Still, you were annoyed with her right now. You sensed she had something deeper against Ben, and it wasn’t all about his age. When she eventually answered, it just confirmed your suspicions.

“He’s dangerous,” she said at last. “He’s so fucking dangerous.”

That disheartened you. Your lips pressed, and you held onto your own arms a bit tighter.

“Not to me,” you replied. Louisa’s frown deepened as her brows knitted together.

“Especially to you,” she said. “He kidnapped you.”

You gave a wan smile. “Not technically.”

That had been one of his subordinates, who’d taken you outside of Ben’s orders…

It was a long and complicated story, but basically, it had worked out for both of you in the end.

Louisa gave you a more incredulous look. “He’s got an atomic bomb in his chest.”

“He’s working on controlling it,” you insisted. “He’s gotten a lot better!”

Louisa threw her hands upward in exasperation and turned to leave you in the hall. You stopped her with a hand on her arm.

“Look, I get it,” you said, meeting her gaze directly. “You’re worried about me. But here’s the thing…you don’t have to do that. I’m the one who looks out for you, remember?”

Once again, she frowned at you. “Why, just because you’re older?”

You gave her a teasing smile.

“Well, yeah.” Still, you grasped both of her arms, now crossed in front of her chest. “Lou, haven’t I always taken care of you?”

“Okay, yeah,” she said. “But who takes care of you? Who makes sure you’re all right?”

You gave her a patient, if knowing look.

She grimaced. “Oh, don’t you say it.”

“Honestly, Lou. He does take care of me…he makes me feel safe.” You bit your lip, and your eyes began to well up with the sting of tears, emotion rising in your throat. “I’ve never had that. Ever.”

Your sister released a heavy sigh. “I know.”

“Then can you actually try to get to know him? Please?” You rubbed her arms, pleading with your eyes. You wanted your family to like your boyfriend, but it was so much more than that. You didn’t want to have separate worlds. Everyone in this house was part of your family, and that now included Ben.

The longer she looked into your imploring eyes, Louisa’s grimace lightened, just a touch. “I’ll think about it.”

You smiled then, warmly as you hugged your sister. You then kissed her on the cheek, leaving the bright red imprint of your lipstick.

When you went back into the kitchen, your better mood was ruined pretty quickly by watching your aunt run your mother around the kitchen with demands and instructions. You decided to jump into the fray, taking a large serving bowl out of Marie’s hands before it tipped over.

“How’s the ham doing?” you asked.

“About half an hour or so, I think,” Trina said. “Maybe forty-five.”

“Okay, and what’s left?”

“Let’s get the desserts ready.”

While your help sorely relieved your mother, it was actually a terrible idea for your mental health. When you could take no more of Trina’s irritating, commanding voice in your ear, you had to take a breath (as well as down a full glass of wine).

You wordlessly asked Louisa to tag in for you before you traveled into the living room.

There you found Ben immersed in a baseball game with Grandpa George. Both men only looked up at you when you stood near the couch with crossed arms. Your nerves were on edge, your blood still just short of boiling, but you took pains to look pleasant.

“Who’s winning?” you asked.

Ben quirked a smile at the sight of you, while George gave his more freely.

“5 to 3. It’s close on the Mets,” he said. You realized then that you hadn’t even hugged your grandfather yet.

“Oh my God, Grandpa! I’m so sorry,” you said with a frown. You went over to hug him. “Trina has me all out of whack.”

George chuckled and patted you warmly on the back. “Why do you think I’m out here?”

You sighed with a wry smile. You then turned to Great Aunt Sylvia, who was still passed out in the recliner.

“Aunt Sylvia?” you tried. You went over to her and touched her arm.

“Leave her be, hun,” George told you. “Only the smell of food’ll rouse that woman.”

Your smile deepened. Then you turned to Ben, who’d been watching you with reserved interest. He’d never seen you with the rest of your family before.

You went to him on his side of the couch and asked, in a tone deceptively light, “How about a tour of the house? You haven’t even seen it all.”

He could admit, it was a fairly big house for just your mother, but he was more interested in the game.

“I’m watching this,” he said, gesturing at the screen. However, when he saw the tight press of your lips, he knew something wasn’t right with you. You were trying to tell him something with your eyes, he just didn’t know what.

You leaned down, subtly grabbing his thigh.

“I need you,” you whispered in his ear. “Now.”

The tone of your voice set his blood alight with new interest.

Ben’s resulting smirk was subtle, but edged.

“A tour it is.”

AN: Just when you thought you'd seen the last of my BMD cliffhangers. 😏

How'd you like Ben's introduction to his girlfriend's family? I also sincerely hope you don't have an "Aunt Trina" in your life. 🙄

Next Time:

He grabbed your arms and meant to kiss you, but you stopped him with your fingers against his lips.

“Two rules: this lipstick doesn’t come off. And no. Ripping. The dress.”

Keep reading: PART 3

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mca-attack21 · 4 months

Text

Love Can Hurt (Jeremiah x Conklin Reader)

A/N: There are season 1/2 spoilers

It was rare that you came to see Susannah on your own, usually you were with your mom. You came to visit more often than Steven or Belly, both because you wanted to see Susannah and because you wanted to check in on Jeremiah. Last summer had put him in a weird spot with Conrad and Belly, so you made a point to be there for him. At least that’s what you told yourself. The truth is you have always gone out of your way for Jeremiah. So of course, you came when he asked if you could stay with his mom during homecoming, even if the phone call broke your heart.

“Hey Y/n/n, how are you doing?”

“I’m alright Jere, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just have a question for you.”

“Of course.”

“Homecoming is this Saturday-” you could not believe what you were hearing, Jeremiah Fisher - the boy you’ve dreamed about being with was actually, “I was planning to go with Blake, but I don’t want to leave my mom home alone. We might get a hotel room. I was hoping you could come stay the weekend. She always loves seeing you.”

Your breath caught in your throat. You had to take a second before answering so your voice wouldn’t give you away. “Of course Jere, you deserve a night to be a normal teenager without the weight of the world on your shoulders. I’ll come up Friday after school.”

“Oh my god, you’re the best. I’ll totally owe you one.”

“It’s no problem Jere, I’ll see you Friday.” You hurriedly end the call, pulling your knees to your chest. Losing the fight to keep your tears at bay. Sometimes you wished you could stop loving him.

You walked in the door with groceries and set them on the counter. Every time you visited, you would restock the cabinets and fridge. It used to be Susannah who would make sure everyone’s favorites were in the house. It was a small thing, but you felt like it was the least you could do. You went to check in on her, but she was sleeping so you decided to let her rest. You peek in Jeremiah’s room, straightening it up a bit and making his bed. He would be home soon, so you started to make him his favorite dinner.

You don’t know exactly when it happened, that you fell for him. Jeremiah always cared so much about the people around him, he was the most charismatic person you had ever met. He had this energy about him that illuminated any room he was in. Since he found out about his mom, that sparkle dimmed ever so slightly. No one seemed to really notice the toll that all of this was taking on him, except you. You could see through the fake smiles, to the sadness, stress, and fear. You tried to be there for him as much as he would let you. You comforted him through the pain Belly caused, took as much off his shoulders as you could, but you wished there was more you could do.

You were so deep in your thoughts, you hadn’t even heard him come in. “Y/n?” he called out.

“In the kitchen Jere.”

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his head in the crook of your neck. “That smells delicious, I’m gonna head up and take a shower, check on mom, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.”

The two of you ate together, catching up. He told you about being nominated homecoming king, which didn’t surprise you at all. With some convincing you got Jere to let you take care of the receipts for the insurance companies while you were there. It was one more thing to take off his plate. When you were both done eating, you took care of the leftovers and did the dishes while he went off to play video games.

The next day you spent most of your time with Susannah, who was having one of her better days. She was so excited to see Jeremiah going to Homecoming. You were doing fine with it all until his date arrived.

“Y/n, can you do me a favor and go take pictures of Jere and Blake. I don’t want to scare them away,” she smiled.

“Of course.”

You took her phone downstairs. Seeing him all dressed up, smiling, laughing, and excited brought mixed emotions. Of course you wanted him to be happy, but watching him with Blake reminded you of having to watch him with Belly this summer. There was a part of you that wished it was you.

You took the photos, wished them both fun, and went back upstairs to watch movies with Susannah. Right away, she could tell something was off. Of course she could, sometimes you wondered if she knew you better than your own mother.

“What’s on that brilliant mind of yours?” she asked, pausing the movie.

“It’s nothing important,” you reply.

“Of course it's important, because you are important.”

You didn’t know what to say, because you didn’t really know how to describe the way you were feeling without sounding pathetic.

“This wouldn’t have something to do with Jeremiah, would it?” she asked knowingly. At the mention of his name, your strategic walls came crashing down, tears escaped your eyes. “Oh honey come here,” she said, opening her arms for a hug.

“It hurt to watch him fall for Belly and watch her toss him aside for Conrad and then it hurt tonight to see him so happy with someone else. And he’s my best friend so I get a front row ticket to watch all of it, I hear about every hookup, and I see everything that he tries to hide from everyone…”

“Oh sweetie.” She had always believed that you and Jeremiah were destined for each other the same way that Belly was destined for Conrad. It took her by surprise when Jeremiah admitted feelings for Belly, somehow, she’d missed how much it had affected you.

“Love can hurt sometimes, but that’s because it's real.”

#jeremiah fisher imagines #jeremiah fisher x reader #tsitp imagines #tsitp x reader #tsitp imagine #the summer i turned pretty x reader #the summer i turned pretty imagines

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fluentmoviequoter · 8 months

Text

Hot or Cold

Requested Here!

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!reader

Summary: You work in a coffee shop, and when you are trapped in the fridge during a robbery, you can only hope that your boyfriend Deacon will find you.

Warnings: armed robbery, violence against reader, angst to fluff & hurt/comfort.

Word Count: 2.7k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

“How’s the handsome boyfriend?” your coworker asks as you wipe down the front counter. “Still dreamy and treating you right?”

You chuckle at the thought of Deacon not being dreamy or treating you right, an impossibility. “Yes, he is.”

The bell over the door of the coffee shop rings, and you abandon the conversation about Deacon to do your job.

“You know, I’ve been meaning to ask… does Deacon have any single cop friends?”

Reading the name on the latte you just prepared, you shake your head. If you were in her place, and she had a boyfriend like Deacon, you’d want to know where to find one.

“Thanks,” the man says as he takes the cup.

“Have a nice day!” You turn toward your coworker to answer, “Honestly, I don’t know. Street’s still in his ‘will-they-won’t-they’ thing with Chris, Tan is, well he’s Tan… the new guy might be single.”

“I don’t know who any of those people are.”

“You shouldn’t. I can check for you though; if I’m right, you’d be cute together.”

“Is he as easy on the eyes as Deacon?”

“Nope,” you answer with a smile.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Man, I would kill for an espresso after that,” Rocker groans.

Luca waves his hands in a ‘stop talking’ motion before Deacon hears any reference to coffee. Luca loves you, but Deacon has difficulty stopping once you’re mentioned.

“Too bad you don’t have time,” Deacon answers instead. “We got another call. Up, buddy.”

Rocker rolls his eyes before standing.

“What now?”

“Another bank robbery. You should’ve gotten a coffee when you had the chance; it’s going to be a long day,” Hondo answers.

Deacon nods at the idea of coffee, a picture of you making him feel a little more awake.

✯✯✯✯✯

“What is going on today?” someone asks, sitting back after a mad rush.

“Are you referring to the caffeine addiction of Los Angeles or the continuous sirens? Because I have no answer for either,” you answer, leaning on the counter.

“All these sirens and no single cops or firefighters to accept my number,” another voice sighs, joining your small huddle.

“Why don’t you guys head out early? I can close up, I know it’s been a long day,” you offer.

“Are you serious?”

“Sure. You can just cover for me when I don’t want the early shift next weekend.”

They weigh their options before you get a group hug and overlapping expressions of gratitude.

“Yeah, yeah, get out of here,” you mutter, shoving them toward the small locker room-like area at the back.

“You’re the best!”

“I know.”

As the door closes, their voices fading into the alley, you take a deep breath. You feel like you’ve been on the move all day, with people in and out without a break. Your phone shows no messages or calls from Deacon, but you hope to see him tonight.

“Okay,” you whisper to yourself, pushing off the counter as you prepare to close.

You lay your phone on the counter and turn on some quiet music, focusing on getting finished and home to Deacon’s house as soon as possible. The counters are cleaned, and the dirty dishes are loaded into the industrial-sized dishwasher, so you're nearly done. As you begin sweeping the floor, someone opens the door.

“Sorry, we’re closing,” you say, moving toward the door to lock it. “The Starbucks down the street is open all night.”

“They have better security,” the man replies, keeping his foot pressed against the door so you can’t close it.

You drop the broom and step back, reaching for your cell phone on the counter to call for help. The man barges in, locking the door behind him as he points a gun at you.

“Don’t move,” he demands.

Deacon is in your favorites list, so it would only take two taps on the screen to call him. You raise your hands before stepping toward the counter. You don’t get to your phone before the man hits the back of your head, knocking you into a nearby table. Holding your ribs, you try to stand but kick a chair on accident and fall to the floor.

“Are you going to keep being a problem or can you sit there and be quiet?” the man asks with his gun at his side.

“I’ll be quiet,” you answer lowly.

He cocks his head, looking around. Stepping back, he slides your phone behind the counter so you can’t reach it easily.

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t believe you,” he says, pushing you back on the floor.

“No,” you mumble, trying to fight him off of you.

“And you said you wouldn’t be trouble,” he almost growls, bringing the butt of his gun and the hard side of his hand down on your temple.

The impact disorients you; all you can do is grab his hand as he hauls you toward the walk-in fridge. When he pushes you inside and winks before closing the door, the severity of the situation finally reaches you.

“Don’t do this! Take whatever you want but let me out,” you scream, banging on the large metal door.

Your head pounds with each movement, and when you graze your hairline with your fingers, you hiss when you reach the broken skin. Stepping further into the fridge, you shiver under the vent and sink to the floor, fighting dizziness and nausea as your head aches. With no way to call for help, you should try to stay warm, but the pain in your head and fear that no one will find you until morning influence you to close your eyes.

Outside the fridge, the thief sings along to the song playing from your phone as he empties the cash register into his small bag. Nodding at his earnings, he steps toward the door before taking the last muffin out of the display case.

✯✯✯✯✯

Deacon glances down at his watch. You have a habit of offering to close after long days, but even if you stayed, you should be getting home about now. Deacon smiles at the thought of you doing what you usually do: passing your driveway to pull into his own. You’ve been neighbors almost as long as you’ve been dating, though his house seems to be a landing place for both of you.

“20-David to command,” Hondo radios from inside the bank. “We’re Code 4.”

Deacon sighs, lowering his weapon and standing from his hidden position. He pulls his phone from his pocket, surprised to see no notifications from you. Maybe you had a day like he did.

Rushing home to hold you after a long day, Deacon slows beside your driveway, nodding when he sees it empty. But, when he sees your car isn’t in his driveway either, his brows furrow as he wavers between surprise and concern.

Shifting his car into park, he presses your contact, waiting until he gets your voicemail. He texts you to call him ASAP, and after a minute with no acknowledgment, he calls you again. Taking a deep breath in his attempt to stay calm, he dials the number for the coffee shop and prays to hear your voice. The line beeps before your recorded voice greets him.

“Answer,” Deacon begs as the dial tone begins again. “Hey, Luca, I need your help with something. You got a minute?”

“Yeah, of course, anything for you, man,” Luca replies.

Deacon says your name before running a hand across his mouth. “She’s not home and she’s not answering her cell phone or the coffee shop line.”

“Anywhere else she’d be?” Luca asks, shuffling on the other side of the line.

“Not this late. I’m going to drive over to the coffee shop,” Deacon adds.

“We’ll meet you there. Street and I are only a couple blocks away. We’ll find her, Deac.”

Deacon thanks him as he backs out of his driveway. The coffee shop is a ten-minute drive that feels like an eternity.

✯✯✯✯✯

Street and Luca are coming out of the alley when Deacon rushes onto the sidewalk.

“Hey,” Street greets. “The lights were off when we got here. Back door is locked, and her car is still here.”

“Did you try the door?” Deacon asks.

“Not this one; we just got here,” Luca replies.

“Thank you for coming so late.”

“Of course. We’re here for you and her, Deacon.”

Deacon nods, taking a deep breath as he pushes the door open. He glances at Luca, who tilts his head in concern. Luca and Street enter behind Deacon, their hands at their sides and ready to pull their weapons if needed. There’s quiet music playing from somewhere in the building, and Street nods to Luca as he breaks off to find the source.

“Deacon,” Street calls quietly. He stands from behind the counter and holds up your phone.

Deacon swallows harshly, looking toward the back.

“Let’s clear the building and we’ll go from there,” Deacon instructs quietly.

Street and Luca nod, moving slowly and silently until they’re sure the building is empty. Deacon turns on a light in the back, frowning when he sees your bag in its regular storage spot.

“The cash register is empty,” Luca calls, his voice raised after concluding there is no immediate threat.

✯✯✯✯✯

You hear a voice outside and blink rapidly, forcing yourself to focus. With your arms wrapped tightly around you, your shivers are growing in strength as you grow weak and disoriented.

“Where- go- night?” someone asks, their voice breaking as you strain to listen through the thick metal of the fridge.

The voice sounds familiar, and you summon what little strength you have left to bang on the door. It’s quiet, and as your hand slides down the cold metal, your blinks slow.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Wait,” Deacon demands, raising a hand to quiet Luca and Street. “Did you hear that? Something made a knocking noise.”

He walks toward the fridge, the only place they didn’t check during their initial sweep. Luca nods, standing behind Deacon as Street unlocks and opens the door. Deacon sees you slumped on the floor and rushes in.

“Dea- David?” you mumble, your eyes lidded as you look up at him.

“Hey, yeah, I’m here. I got you, sweetheart,” he soothes, laying his hands on your shoulders.

“I’ll call it in,” Street says before reporting the robbery and requesting an ambulance.

“We need to get you out of here,” Deacon says quietly, pulling you against his chest.

He stands slowly, cradling your shivering form to his chest. Once Luca closes the fridge, Deacon sits on the floor, taking his jacket off and wrapping it around your shoulders. He moves you gently to make sure all of your clothes are dry. Sliding his fingers onto your pulse point, he calculates your heart rate with a frown.

“Hypothermia?” Luca asks quietly, passing Deacon a nearby jacket.

Deacon nods, laying it over your hips as he lets you lean against him.

“Ambulance is here, Deac,” Street alerts. “Is she okay?”

“She has to be,” Deacon and Luca answer together.

✯✯✯✯✯

Deacon and Luca follow the ambulance in Deacon’s car while Street returns home, telling the team what happened. They sit together in the waiting room, sharing their concern and sympathies without speaking.

A nurse exits and says your name, smiling as Deacon and Luca rush to her side.

“The doctor wants to talk to you. Relatives?” she asks.

“He is,” Luca answers. “I’m just a friend.”

“Then I’m going to ask you to wait here.”

“No problem. We’re here for you, Deac.”

Deacon nods, whispering, “Thank you,” as he follows the nurse into the hospital.

“You found her in plenty of time, sir,” the doctor says with a kind smile. “She’s suffering from hypothermia and some surface-level injuries. Despite that nasty bump on her head, we don’t see any indications of a concussion.”

“Thanks, doc. How bad is the hypothermia?” Deacon asks.

“We caught it very early. She’s warming up; temperature was right around 94, so it isn't too severe.”

“Can I see her?”

“Of course. Let me know if you have any other questions, and I’ll be back by soon.”

Deacon steps into your room quietly, looking at you with a sad smile. Dressed in the thin hospital gown with heated blankets and heat packs on your chest and neck.

“’S not as warm as you,” you mumble with your eyes closed.

Deacon smiles, pulling a chair up beside your bed. “Working better though,” he says quietly.

You turn your head toward him and smile as you open your eyes. “Thanks for finding me. It wouldn’t be as much fun to get in trouble without you around to save me.”

“Well no more trouble for a while, okay? Because that was terrifying.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. Robbery is working on catching the guy.”

“He stole my muffin.”

Deacon chuckles before offering, “I’ll make you a whole batch to make up.”

“You should’ve been a baker, not a cop.”

“I’m not sure I’m the house-husband type.”

“Trophy husband for sure,” you correct with a nod. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

✯✯✯✯✯

When you get discharged, Deacon takes you back to his house, and you notice that someone has moved your car back to your driveway. After getting you comfortable on the couch, Deacon begins rushing back and forth, doing everything the doctor recommended and then some.

“Deac,” you call when he rushes by again.

He stops and backpedals into the living room. “Do you need something?”

“Yes. I need you to sit with me. You’ve done more than enough, and I just need your company right now.”

Deacon smiles and whispers an apology as he sits beside you, holding you close. You cuddle into his side, focusing on your favorite movie. When you kick the blankets off, barely moving as you struggle, Deacon stops himself from acting again.

“Need help?” he asks, running a hand down your spine.

You nod slowly against his chest, and he reaches across you to remove the blanket.

“Want to you want for dinner?”

“Not hungry.”

Deacon looks at his watch, furrowing his brows when he notices it’s been nearly twelve hours since you ate at the hospital, and who knows how long before that.

“You really need to eat something,” he urges kindly.

Your weight increases on him as you shake your head and close your eyes. When your forehead hits Deacon’s arm, he’s surprised to feel how warm you are. He retrieves a thermometer from the small care kit he assembled in his concern-filled frenzy.

“You have a fever,” Deacon tells you. “It’s pretty high, so I’m going to call the doctor.”

“Stay here,” you mumble, grasping at Deacon’s shirt.

He wraps his arm around you, tugging you closer as he raises his phone to his ear.

“Hello, this is Deacon Kay… Yes, ma’am… She has a fever of 103.2, she’s not wanting to eat, and she’s very weak... I will. Thank you.”

“What’d they say?” you ask as he sets his phone down.

“They think it’s probably just the stress of what you went through, or maybe an upper respiratory infection from the cold. I’m supposed to keep you hydrated, medicated, and happy, and call if anything changes.”

You nod, nuzzling closer to him as he chuckles. It doesn’t take much coaxing from him to convince you to take some medicine, drink lots of water, and take a few bites of your favorite food, especially when he promises to hold your hand through it all.

✯✯✯✯✯

When you wake up the following morning, wrapped in Deacon’s arms, the fever is lower but not gone.

“More water,” Deacon demands.

“You’re bossy.”

“Trophy boyfriends are allowed to be.”

“Trophy husband,” you correct.

“Are you proposing?” he teases.

You take a minute to consider before asking, “Would you say yes?”

“In a heartbeat.”

“Then you just wait until I feel better, Kay.”

He smiles, pulling a lightweight blanket over you as your fever finally breaks.

“You’re still worried,” you accuse, sitting up to look at him.

“Of course, I am. I came home and you weren’t here, and then weren’t answering your phone. It’s only because of Luca and Street that I was able to find you without panicking.”

“Then we should have them over for dinner to thank them. Although, I know you would’ve found me without them.”

“I’ll always find you,” he promises.

“Even when I can’t decide whether to be hot or cold?”

“I love you either way,” Deacon replies, matching your tone as he kisses your forehead.

#david deacon kay x reader #deacon kay x reader #david kay x reader #david deacon kay #deacon kay #deacon kay fluff #swat cbs #requests

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