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marvelwitchergilmore · 4 months ago

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Sleeping, Dancing and Mistletoe

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> Times when people found evidence that you and Logan were possibly a couple, and the one time you both finally confirmed it.

Disclaimer: Mostly fluff, mentions/illusions to sex, Logan checking you out. Couple of swear words here and there. This has been unfinished in my drafts for at least a week so...yeah. This is finished. little Christmas at the end. Not Proof Read.

For what felt like the thirtieth time in the hour, you turned over with a huff and pressed your pillow to your ears, trying to muffle the sounds coming from next door.

And just as it finally died down, you sighed and was just about to thank some ancient being for hearing your prayers when…it started again.

“That’s it.”

Changing out of your longer pyjama bottoms and into some sleep shorts, you made your way out of your room, keeping your footsteps as quiet as you could until the noises faded away and you started to reach your intended room.

Opening up the door, you found exactly what you were looking for.

Shaking his shoulder as he lay on his stomach, you whispered his name, hoping he’d hear you.

“Logan.” You shook him for a third time. “Logan.”

Nothing.

With another sigh, you slapped his face gently and said his name once more, a little louder and firmer.

“Logan.”

Finally, he groaned. “What?”

His voice was muffled by his pillow but you could hear him just well enough. Or maybe you were just used to his grunts that they were starting to become their own language you could understand.

“Move over. I’m sleeping here tonight.”

“What’s wrong with your bed?”

“Nothing.”

“Then go and sleep there.” Logan turned his head away from you and scrunched up his pillow beneath his head.

“I can’t. My neighbours have decided tonight is Valentine’s Day 2.0.”

You pushed half of his body with your hands until he finally got the cue to turn over.

“Too much information.”

You shook your head, “Too much information is what I’ve been hearing for the last hour.”

Finally, Logan rolled onto his back, his covers covering his bottom half, and groaned. “Fine.”

“Thank you.”

Logan straightened himself in his bed, giving you room to get in beside him. And the minute you touched his covers, you were glad you had changed into shorts.

Logan was like a furnace. Just constant heat radiating from his body and for as much as it, at times, got too hot to stand near him, he was also, in your opinion, the best person to fall asleep beside.

“Just shut up and go to sleep.”

Laying on your side, it wasn’t long until you closed your eyes, thankful that you could hear nothing other than Logan’s steady breathing and the distant clock down the hall that was forever ticking.

However, just before you fully drifted off, you felt Logan’s hand take hold of yours and you smiled.

He could be gruff all he liked, but when it came to you, he could be a softie.

By the time morning rolled around, Storm was in search of both yourself and Logan. So, when she found your bed empty and cold, she figured Logan would know where you were.

But he was asleep.

Right beside you.

Storm leaned against the door frame for a while, taking in the picture in front of her.

Logan was fast asleep, something that was a miracle in itself, with you right beside him, your head turned towards the windows in his room, his own looking towards you, all the while, his arm slung over your midsection and one of your own hands, holding his.

“Storm- what are you- Oh.”

Jean looked inside.

“Looks like someone had a good night.” She smiled before looking back at Storm. “Do you think we can finally ask if they’re together?”

“I’d say this is confirmation enough.”

You shifted in your sleep as did Logan, and the two girls hid behind the corner for a moment.

You turned your head and the rest of your body towards Logan, all the while his arm held you in a stronger grip and pulled you towards him.

It took you a moment but you finally opened your eyes, adjusting to the light before your vision finally cleared on a sleeping Logan.

For a moment, you allowed the hand between you both to reach up and brush the stray hairs from his eyes. It was rare you ever got to see Logan this…calm.

Serene.

Rested.

Unknowingly, you started to run your left thumb over Logan’s arm that still held onto you.

Then his fingers twitched, running over the exposed skin at the bottom of your back.

“Are you watching me sleep?” His voice was rough, the first words in the morning.

“Not anymore,” you smiled, brushing the final parts of his hair out of his face.

“Thanks for letting me stay.”

Then a cough came from the door.

Logan groaned. “Is this a new hobby; watching people sleep?”

Jean and Storm laughed from the door. “You two look cosy.”

You lifted your head and glared at Jean. “There is one reason I’m here. Maybe I think it’s time you make an investment in soundproof walls.”

Jean turned a little red and Storm laughed.

“Look, we’ve got a busy day. You can kiss your boyfriend later.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you called out just as Logan called; “She’s not my girlfriend.”

Storm and Jean nodded and just as Jean snapped a picture, she sent it to both yourself and Logan as they walked away.

“Sure.”

Leaning up, Logan reached for his phone to see the notification pop up before he placed it back down and you climbed out of bed.

“They’re got a point.”

“About us being a couple?”

You threw a t-shirt at Logan. “Having a busy day.”

Logan laughed a little, scrubbing his face as he watched you leave his room before he reached behind him and took hold of his phone once more.

Jean and Storm were right.

From the picture…they did look like a couple.

A couple of days passed and you were sitting in the quiet living room, the fires on both sides roaring.

All classes had been finished for two days and some kids had returned home for the holidays, which meant you had some free time on your hands.

And for you, that meant finally reading.

Until you sensed someone stood behind you.

“If you want to know what happens, you could just ask me.”

Logan plucked the book from your hands and circled around the sofa before coming to sit down beside you.

“Logan! Give it back.”

“I want to see what it’s about.”

You sighed and sat up, “It’s a romance, Logan.”

“A romance?” Logan had a hint of a smirk on his face. “Like the…trashy kind?”

“Like the romantic kind.”

Logan looked at you and smiled. “The trashy kind.”

You rolled your eyes and took the book back from him, leaving him to fix the blanket so it rested over both of you. He placed his arm over the back of the sofa, allowing you to lean into him, whether you noticed you were doing so or not.

“Just because you might not believe in romance, doesn’t mean the rest of us are the same.”

“I believe in romance.”

“Yeah, right.”

Logan couldn’t help but smile. “What?”

“The Wolverine,” you said with a deep voice. “Believes in romance?”

Logan nodded. “Occasionally.”

“Occasionally?”

“Do you just like repeating everything I say?”

You nodded and smiled. “Occasionally.”

Logan rolled his eyes and took the book back from you and read a line out loud.

“People really talk like this?”

You leaned into Logan. “No, but in a book it’s not so bad. Go on, read some more.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

You nodded. “You’re like my own personal audiobook.”

Logan gave a short smile before getting a little cosier and continued reading out loud.

It wasn’t long before Logan found you asleep against him and he shifted in order to avoid you getting a crick in your neck.

“Keep reading.”

“I thought you were asleep.”

“Now I’m awake.”

“Fine, just be quiet.”

You gave a fake salute. “Yes, sir.”

Holding his arm around your body that was pressed between himself and the sofa, Logan quickly kissed the top of your head and went back to reading.

And ten minutes later, you were asleep.

And so was he.

An hour passed before someone found either of you, but this time, it was Scott and Bobby.

“They might be in- oh. What do we have here?”

“Oh my god, Rouge has to see this. I told her they were together.”

Bobby rushed off and soon returned, pulling Rouge with him.

“What is it?” Then she gasped.

“Believe me now?”

And what Rouge saw made her smile.

On the slightly too small sofa for Logan, you lay both between him and the sofa, as well as partly on him with your hand a little over his heart. His head was turned towards you. The blanket had fallen a little, so she reached over and pulled it up both of you before turning around and throwing a log onto the fire.

“Come on, let's leave them.”

“But-”

“No, you are not going to disturb them. Come on.”

Rouge dragged the pair out and closed the door behind her.

The third time people suspected you and Logan were an item was one late evening in October.

Half of the kids were playing outside with all the freshly fallen leaves, whilst some of the older kids helped them find different critters and point them out, and build them habitats. The rest of the kids were either in their rooms or studying.

Save for two.

Bobby and Rouge were hiding outside of the kitchen watching yourself and Logan cook.

“I didn’t even know he knew how to…chop. Let alone cook.”

“You should have more faith in him.”

“Come on, Rouge. You can’t tell me you weren't thinking it, too.”

And she couldn’t. Because she was.

Meanwhile inside the kitchen, Logan was watching you from the kitchen island as he continued chopping the veg.

There was something different about you. From the way you practically danced around the kitchen finding the different items for the recipe, to just…you. Whilst he was (semi) shirtless, just having his zipper hoodie on, along with his jeans and socks. He would have been fully dressed, except you had come and ambushed him in his room – even though you denied the word “ambushed” – to get him to help.

And you were just simply in your pyjamas (of sorts) along with one of his zipper hoodies.

“Bub,”

Logan laid down his knife and walked over to you as you stood by the stove, standing a little higher to see how much water was left in the pot at the back.

You hummed a questioned response, but was met with a question…you didn’t expect.

“Dance with me?”

“What?”

Logan smiled lightly as he pulled the wooden spoon from your hand and pulled you closer to him, despite him walking backwards.

“Come on,” his voice in a light whisper. “Dance with me.”

“Didn’t take you for a dancer.”

Outside the door, Bobby and Rouge mouthed to each other; “They’re dancing.”

And you both were.

Gently swaying to the music for a while, you allowed Logan to lead you around a small space in the centre of the kitchen.

“We’re gonna burn the sauce.”

Logan gave a slight smile at you as he spun you out and back in, “We’re not gonna burn the sauce.”

“Logan.”

“Can’t you ever just enjoy a moment?”

“When that moment doesn’t include burning the house down, yes.”

“Bit of a jump, don’t you think, from burning the sauce.”

“Ha, so you agree. We’re gonna burn the sauce.”

Moving over, Logan turned down the heat on one of the pans before taking your hand back into his. “Now we won’t.”

Bobby and Rouge watched, in shock, the rest.

For one, Logan knew how to dance? Since when? And since when did he…cook and dance in the kitchen? Unless…

Then Logan did something even you didn’t expect.

He dipped you.

You hand tightened its grip on Logan’s arm as you let out a small, if a little nervous, laugh.

Logan had been full of surprises recently. From the impromptu audiobook session in which you woke up in his arms, to him not only dropping off a cup of coffee during your break from teaching but also a freshly baked muffin.

And now he was dancing with you in the kitchen.

And dipping you.

When you had rushed him out of his room to help you cook, you hadn’t expected him to know the recipe for the sauce from the top of his head. Something he just happened to rattle off whilst you were looking for the cooking notebook that should have been in the cupboard beside the oven. Let alone be the one to ask to dance in the kitchen, and dip you.

Bring you back up, both of you gave a slight chuckle as you turned around, the music slowly fading away in the background.

“Logan…”

Looking at him, you forgot what you were going to say.

Had his eyes always had so much green in them?

Logan’s palm became warm against your back as it pressed further into you. Or maybe you pressed further into him and he just held you tighter.

Slowly, your hand left his bicep and trailed towards his chest all the while your eyes studied his face. You’d known him for years and seen him a thousand times or more.

So why did now feel like you were seeing him for the first time? Noticing him? Noticing each particle he was made up of that allowed him to sway with you in the kitchen to the music that had changed on the radio?

Only, before the space between yourself and Logan became any more closer, a noise came from outside the door.

A sneeze.

A sneeze that shocked you and Logan back into reality.

Still holding you, Logan looked towards the door and gave a hint of a smile when he saw the flash of white disappear behind the beam.

Realising what was happening, you lowered yourself back to the ground and slowly stepped out of Logan’s arms. “We should finish up.”

Logan nodded in agreement, however did look back at you when you got back to the stove, not noticing you do the same a few moments later, watching him pick up the rest of the veg and toss it into the collider to be washed.

Time passed and after more music, more conversation - including a burnt tongue from when you had shoved a wooden spoon with fresh sauce on, into Logan’s mouth for him to try - and a lot of scrubbing later, you found Logan sitting inside the library and collapsed next to him.

“Good news, the kids loved the food,” you told Logan. “Double good news; Jean and Scott are on cooking duty tomorrow.”

“Thank fuck.”

“Thank you for helping me.” Turning to look at Logan, you found him already looking.

“You did ambush me.”

“I didn’t ambush you.”

“I wasn’t dressed.” Logan examined himself. “Technically, I’m still not.”

You rolled your eyes with a slight smile. “Fine. Maybe it was a mini, tiny, miniscule ambush.”

You made a small space between your fingers. “Like this big of an ambush.”

Logan looked at you, at your fingers and then back to you in slight disgust before moving your fingers wider with his own.

“That big of an ambush.”

You rolled your eyes and dropped your hand. “And they say us women are dramatic.”

It was Logan’s turn to roll his eyes. However, as he did so, his arm wrapped around you, and pulled you back into him and the sofa.

“Just shut the fuck up for a minute and listen.”

You did so.

“I don’t hear anything.”

“That’s the point.” Logan’s eyes were shut as his head rested on the back of the sofa.

Eventually you gave a shrug and joined him.

An hour later, Storm found you both fast asleep beside one another so with a knowing smile, she found a blanket, covered you both up and closed the door behind her. But not before reminding herself she needed to get verbal confirmation from you both.

She wasn’t handing over any money to Jean and Xavier until she had verbal confirmation of what exactly was going on between you two.

And she didn’t have to wait long…at least in the long run, she didn’t have to wait long.

Until then, there were plenty more incidents of falling asleep next to each other, bringing each other coffee, dancing to music in the kitchen, smiling and laughing – all before she finally got verbal confirmation that the inevitable had finally happened.

Finally, it was acceptable to decorate for Christmas.

Two days prior, Rogue, Logan and Storm had been helping you find all the old decorations in the attic and bring them down. Storm did try then to bribe something out of Rogue, but she apparently was just in the dark as the rest of them.

But the smile she gave when she looked over at Logan, who was placing down another box from the back of the pile for you to take a look at, told Storm something different.

“I can’t believe you leave it this late to decorate.”

Logan looked at you. “We’re still in November.”

“So?”

Taking hold of the garland, you started to climb the ladder. Logan held onto the bottom just to be safe.

“If you had it your way, the decorations would be up all year round.”

“Hey, no.”

“Hey, yes.”

“I’d take them down for…” you tried to think. “Halloween. You’d have a little break.”

Logan didn’t look entirely thrilled. “Halloween is one day.”

“Technically, it’s a month.”

“To you, it’s a month. To the rest of us, it’s a day.”

You looked back at him. “To you it’s a day, to the rest of us it’s a month.”

Then you looked back at the garland. “How does that look?”

“Great from where I’m standing.”

You looked a little confused for a second before quickly looking over your shoulder, realising where Logan was, in fact, looking.

Not at the garland, but at your ass.

You smiled and started to step down the ladder, hitting his shoulder on the way down.

“I meant the garland.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Logan looked up. “Looks great.”

You laughed. “You didn’t even look.”

With a smile as you finally stepped back into his arm, he looked to the side and up. “It looks great.”

“Good. Now,” Logan turned back to look at you and you kissed him quickly. “We have to put up five more.”

“I get to watch you put up five more.”

You smiled. “This is why you’re my favourite person.”

Logan smiled. He could help you with everything else, but when it came to the garland, you had full control on where it went. Which, he didn’t mind. So long as he got to watch you put it up.

You quickly kissed him once more, only to be pulled back when you tried to walk away.

Then Logan gave you a real kiss.

A little dizzy, you smiled and placed a hand on his chest and closed your eyes. “Wow.”

He gave you a quicker, lighter kiss. “You better get going before Rogue comes back with another box of lights.”

“Light?” Then it hit you. “Oh, yeah.”

Logan smirked a little as he watched you walk away and down the hallway.

It was a couple of hours before everyone was in the same room, making the final touches all the while most of the other kids were either playing outside in the snow, were taking naps or decorating their own rooms.

And the others had been watching you and Logan all day.

The stolen glances, the stolen touches, the slightly knowing smiles from both Rogue and Bobby. And then, as Logan was helping you down from the ladder, his hand on your thigh, Bobby went to make the final hammer to hang up the mistletoe.

“Wait, no. Not there.”

“Where then?”

Storm looked around. “I know. Y/n, hang this just above there. We don’t need a remake of Mistletoe Central 1997.”

Logan looked at Storm. “Do I wanna know?”

Storm shook her head. “Here.”

She handed you the mistletoe before Logan passed you the hammer back from his belt.

Three knocks and the nail was set in and the mistletoe was above you on a corner beam, just a little to the side of the christmas tree.

At least this way, those looking for it, would find it.

"Oh, no, wait.” Jean said, looking at you. “Have to kiss someone. It’s tradition. You’re under the mistletoe.”

There was no one else apart from Logan.

Logan looked around at the others. He wondered how long it would take.

Coming up behind you on the ladder, you moved over for him to stand beside you. His palm on your back held you steady and, leaning his other arm on the ledge of the ladder, his hand cupped your face and he kissed you.

Lasting a little longer than the others had expected, you soon heard Rogue giving a little cheer, as well as a couple of whistles from the others.

“Okay, I think they get it.” You whispered to Logan as he finally pulled away, a smile very noticeable on both of your faces.

“Happy now?” Logan asked, turning towards where Jean and Scott were standing.

“That was some kiss.”

You felt yourself blush at the comment. As did Logan.

He helped you back down the ladder before you both turned and really saw the other's expression. As well as the exchanging of money between people.

“Sooo…how long has this been going on?”

You were leaning into Logan, his hand around your back and on your hip.

You looked at Logan, “A couple of months. We’re…what? November now so that would…”

“That would…” Logan counted back in his head. “May…June, July…six months.”

You looked back to the others. “Six months.”

A chorus of shocked faces and loud voices sounded out; “SIX MONTHS?!”

All before a small call from Rogue was made, which made both yourself and Logan smile.

“I knew it!”

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criminalamnesia · 10 months ago

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to hold everyone over until I finish traitor part four…

part one / part two / part three

I think kyle and johnny would 100% be the quickest to admit their fuck up, and I think they’d be the last to believe the ‘betrayal.’

the whole squad is fiercely loyal, but those two? those two didn’t believe it until price shoved the evidence in their faces; only then was it too damning to deny.

and god, they feel sick at the thought of what had happened to you. what they did to you. their teammate, their confidant, their friend.

sure, simon had taken point on the ‘interrogation,’ but johnny and kyle had helped. johnny had personally cut into you. kyle was no saint, either.

so when price breaks the news that you’re not the rat, johnny is sprinting to the room you’re being held in. he runs so hard across base that he thinks he may pass out when he finally bursts into the room, hands on his knees as he struggles to breathe.

and when he hears your laugh, he can’t help but think of how wrong it sounds. it’s hollow, untrue. eerie. unnerving. it makes him sick to his stomach.

he helped simon untie your limp body from the chair, and then he followed close behind as simon carried you to the infirmary. kyle was already waiting, eyes wide and lips bitten from nerves.

they don’t leave your side until price makes them. even then, the two are trading off standing outside the infirmary, eyes searching for you every time the door opens and closes. the doctor just shakes her head as she passes them.

they know it’s a long shot, but they have to try.

you’re one of them.

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vroomvro0mferrari · 4 months ago

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LN4 | Happy Anniversary!

Summary: When Lando forgets the date of your anniversary, you can get over it. However, the pressure of his job isn’t a good enough reason to excuse all of his forgetful tendencies and lack of attention for you.

Based on this request!

Lando Norris x fem!Reader, established relationship

WC: 4.8K

Warnings: cursing, angsty, sad fic with happy ending

Masterlist

The soft morning sunlight peeks through the curtains of your bedroom, casting a soft rosy glow over the room. You take a deep breath, a gentle smile settling on your face at the realisation that it’s already been a year – a year of being loved, of sharing every thought and story, of new experiences and memories... One year of being married to the love of your life. It’s hard to believe.

You turn on your side to face your husband, propping your head on your palm as you watch him sleep peacefully. Your hand is softly stroking his chest while you smile with adoration. “Good morning, baby,” you say when you notice the change in his breathing.

Lando merely grumbles, not quite awake yet. Nevertheless, he pulls you closer to his side, letting you cuddle up against his warm body. Pressing your face against his chest, you leave a few kisses along the bare skin.

Lando sighs, stretching out his body. “Good morning, darling,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You smile excitedly, sitting up to look at the handsome man you get to call your husband.

“Do you know what day it is?” You whisper.

Lando frowns as he wipes his tired eyes, “What day?”

The confusion is evident in his voice. Regardless, you nod excitedly. Your smile falters as you watch the wheels turning in his head, gathering that he doesn’t remember. You move to the bedside table, rumbling through the drawer until you find what you’re searching for.

The expression on Lando’s face changes from confusion to guilt when you proudly show the present you’ve wrapped up so neatly, the realisation settling in. “Fuck. It’s our anniversary today, isn’t it?”

You nod, “I got you a little something, to celebrate,” you clarify. The smile on your face is gentle, comforting, and it nearly makes Lando believe you don’t care that he forgot.

“Oh, baby, I’m really sorry. I can’t believe I forgot our anniversary. God, that’s bad, isn’t it? The first year, and I’ve already screwed it up. I’m so sorry, love. Fuck.” Lando rubs a hand over his face, his expression pained.

“It’s okay, Lan. I know you’ve been busy,” you reassure him, “besides, it’s only the first year, we’ll have many more anniversaries.” You offer your gift again. “Just open the present, please? I want to know what you think of it!” You say enthusiastically.

Lando’s not fully convinced yet, “But I haven’t got anything for you,” he protests.

“Doesn’t matter, I already got this for you. Open, please!”

Lando sighs, but doesn’t resist further. However, the guilt of his forgetfulness settles deeper when he opens the carefully wrapped gift. You had taken the time and effort to make something, rather than buy a present, and he couldn’t even bother to remember your first wedding anniversary. He felt like an asshole.

At his silence, you felt the need to explain, “It’s a jar of notes,” you take the jar from his hands and open it. “It’s got different things: my favourite memories of us, things I love about you, what reminds me of you, just whatever I could think of. Then, when you’re gone for work, you can pull one out whenever you miss me,” you demonstrate, grabbing a note from the full jar, “or you could just call me, or whatever.” You put the piece of paper back, close the jar, and look up to your husband.

“Do you like it?”

Lando smiles lovingly, “I love it! Thank you, baby. I love you,” he says before kissing you softly.

“I’m really sorry I didn’t get you anything. I swear I’ll make it up to you. In fact, I’ll make a reservation for tonight right now, we can go out to dinner together to celebrate, and if you want we can go shopping today too, I’ll buy you anything you want—”

You cut him off with a laugh. “That’s not necessary, Lan. I know you love me. Besides, I’d much prefer to spend today at home with you, while you’re still here,” you say, stroking his face fondly before you pull him in for a kiss.

Regardless of your objections, Lando still manages to make a reservation for tonight at your favourite restaurant. He doesn’t make a single comment when you order the salmon despite his dislike for fish, and for weeks after he anticipates every single need you might have before you can utter even a syllable. He brings you the snacks he knows you love most on his way home, makes homecooked meals for you (however bad at cooking he is – he switched to take away after the first two times), and watches your favourite shows with you even though he hates them. He does anything and everything he can think of to make you feel loved and appreciated.

Unfortunately, his efforts only lasted a few weeks. Now, you knew what you were getting into when you married Lando last year. You had been in a relationship with him for several years before the wedding, so you are well aware of the time he needs to put into his work, even outside of office hours, not to mention the amount of stress and anxiety that come with racing at such a high level. That’s why it doesn’t bother you that much that your husband forgot about your anniversary; you know the pressure he’s under.

However, lately, his work has become even more time-consuming, more stressful and he’s become less attentive. It’s no surprise with how well the last races have been going – Lando’s finishing on the podium every weekend – that pressures have increased. He’s no longer fighting for only the constructor’s championship, but he has an actual chance at the driver’s championship too. The team is excited, and working hard, and the same is expected of Lando. Additionally, the fans have been putting more pressure. You know how much Lando’s affected by the stress of it all; he doesn’t want to disappoint, and now that the car’s performing, the only factor that could cause a loss, is him. The pressure, stress, and anxiety are taking over his body. He’s becoming more forgetful and instead of spending his free time with you, his wife, he’s thinking about the next race’s strategy, working out to improve his performance, or practising the tracks. Formula 1 had taken over the number one spot in his life.

You get where he’s coming from, you really do, but one of the most important things, if not the most important thing, in a relationship is communication and recently, Lando wasn’t communicating with you. He doesn’t tell you about the pressure or anxiety, all you know is from reading the man. After the number of years you’d spent together, you know him well enough to be aware of his struggles without him having to tell you.

You’d address the issue, ask him to talk to you, but you don’t when. Lando’s gone so much that you barely see him. His early mornings and early nights don’t align with your schedule; Lando’s gone before you’re properly up and has already eaten when you get home from work. The both of you have always been busy before, but at least you’d always eat together, and talk about your day. Now that those moments are missing, you feel lonely.

Lando has no clue of the things running through your mind. After all, you never told him. Even during the summer break, you keep quiet about your feelings, not wanting it to affect Lando’s performance during the races when you know how hard he's working to do well. Besides, it does get better during the break; Lando’s home more often and his mind's not as occupied with thoughts about his work. Nevertheless, he’s gone most of the time. You had expected for Lando to spend his time off with you, but instead, he hangs out with his friends.

Although the break has positively affected his behaviour, Lando's forgetfulness remains the same. You had told him about your friend’s birthday party several times during the past weeks, asking him to come along. When he promised you would, you thought things were finally going back to normal. But now, as you are waiting for your husband to come home so you can leave for the party together, you realise nothing has changed.

It’s already quarter past eight. Fifteen minutes later than you had said you would leave. You are ready to go – makeup glowing, favourite dress on, present wrapped and purse checked – when you decide you won’t wait any longer. You had given Lando plenty of chances to show his care for you and to consider you in his plans. You always visited his friends with him when he wanted you to, and he couldn’t show up for one party you asked him to come to? You leave the house, no messages sent and your phone on do-not-disturb: let him worry.

You plaster a fake smile on your face when you arrive to your friend’s house, pulling her into a hug when she opens the door.

“Hey, girl! Happy birthday!” You say in a high-pitched voice. “I can’t believe you’re finally 25!” You continue, squeezing her tight.

“Thanks, babe,” she responds when you let each other go, looking over your shoulder. “Where’s Lando? Parking the car?”

“Uh, no, actually. He couldn’t come.” The awkward smile on your face says enough, she knows not to ask any further.

“Oh, okay. That’s too bad. I would have loved to see him. You know, congratulate him on his podiums, it’s been going well lately, no?” She walks you into the house as she speaks, turning her head to watch your reaction.

“Yeah, the team’s really improved.” Once again, the tight smile on your face is clear.

A frown forms on her face at your reaction and she’s about to ask further, whether everything is okay, when she’s interrupted.

“Hey, Y/N! I haven’t seen you in a while! How are you? You never come to the races anymore,” Carlos tells you with a fake pout.

You look at him in surprise. You always forget that everyone in Monaco knows each other. Carlos and your friend met at the golf club and had somehow become good friends. Usually, you liked seeing him, but tonight you would’ve preferred not to see him. Not because you don’t enjoy his company, but simply because you’d rather not talk about Lando, whom he’ll undoubtedly ask about.

And so, your mask shoots up when he pulls you into a hug. “Hey, Carlos. I’m good. How’ve you been doing?”

“I’ve been doing well. You heard the news? That I’m going to Williams next year?” You nod, saying a quick “Of course, congrats!” Naturally, you heard the news; everyone had. But this conversation was already heading in the wrong direction. “Yes, glad to have found a place that will appreciate me, even if the team’s not doing the best right now. Talking about the best, Lando’s been doing so well. You must be proud of him, hm?”

“Ah, yes, of course,” you say indifferently.

Carlos frowns at your reaction. “Everything good between you two?”

Your smile drops, apparently, you aren’t as good at hiding your feelings as you thought you were. “Yeah, everything is fine. Why do you ask?”

Carlos shrugs, “Just the way you react, is all. You seem kind of tense…”

You sigh, letting a silence fall for a few seconds. You might as well tell him, he’ll figure it out eventually. “You’re right. Things… haven’t been so great lately.”

Carlos frowns at your comment. “Between you and Lando, you mean? He didn’t say anything was up, he seemed fine the last time I spoke to him,” he says confusedly.

You roll your eyes at the suggestion, “I’m not surprised. He seems to be clueless to what’s been going on.”

Carlos takes a sip of his drink, “Have you talked to him about it?”

“That’s the issue. Lando’s never home, we barely speak anymore. He’s been so stressed with work that nearly all his free time is dedicated to racing. He gets up early and goes to bed before I’ve even had dinner. I’ve had no chance to talk to him.”

The frown deepens, and he breathes out a puff of air. “That’s tough.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be putting this on you.”

“No, it’s fine don’t worry about it. Sometimes you need to get it off your chest.”

You look up at Carlos, hesitating to continue your story.

“Has the break not changed anything?” He pokes further.

Another sigh. “No, not really. Lando’s using his time off to catch up with his friends. And his forgetfulness has clearly not improved either.”

“His forgetfulness?”

“Yeah, he forgot about the party, clearly.” You have to resist the urge to roll your eyes again.

“What else did he forget about?” Carlos asks with a frown.

“I don’t know if I should tell you,” you hesitate, “but he forgot our anniversary. I told him it’s not a big deal, which it isn’t, but it’s just that everything is adding up. I feel kind of alone in the relationship at the moment, like he doesn’t really care about me anymore. How can I think otherwise, when we barely see each other, let alone speak?”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. That really sucks.”

You smile sadly, as if to say ‘it is what it is’.

“It’ll work out in the end,” you tell him. You hope. “Maybe tonight he’ll realise he forgot something important, again. Maybe that’ll make a difference.” You offer an awkward smile.

Carlos breathes in deeply, putting an arm around your shoulders. “Let’s get your mind off it, huh?” he says while directing you towards the fridge.

You nod, follow him, and accept the drink he offers you. Tonight is not about Lando, it’s about your best friend and the fact she turned 25. You are not thinking about your husband until you get home.

– – – – –

You slam the front door of your shared apartment louder than necessary when you enter. Nevertheless, there’s no reaction when you enter the dark apartment. You switch the lights on, noticing Lando isn’t in the living room or kitchen. Did he really go to sleep not knowing where you were or who you were with? Whether you were safe or not? Lando obviously didn’t remember the birthday party or he would’ve come, yet he didn’t text you to ask you where you were? Does he truly care so little about you? Does he even love you anymore? It feels like a punch to the gut – like someone had ripped your heart out.

The man had been basically avoiding you for weeks, barely saying a word at the moments you did see him, but at least he was still awake to see if you arrived okay. Now he doesn't even stay up to check if you get home safely anymore? Or text you to ask where you are? To say you are upset is an understatement, you feel angry and neglected at his disregard. You feel lonely instead of beloved. The lump in your throat is a painful reminder of how close you are to crying. But you don’t.

You swallow the lump, blink a few times to get rid of the lingering tears in your eyes and go into the bedroom to take off your makeup. You lean on the counter, sniffling silently, and close your eyes. You breathe in through your nose deeply, before breathing out through your mouth. It’ll be okay. Right?

When you enter the bedroom you stare for a minute at the man sleeping peacefully before you. It feels wrong when you climb into bed next to him, nevertheless, you do it. It’ll probably take you a while to fall asleep tonight.

– – – – –

The situation hasn’t changed a bit when the racing season starts back up again. No matter how strained your relationship has become, you do want to say goodbye to Lando before he leaves for the next race. So, the morning he’s supposed to fly, you make sure to get up extra early. You don’t know how, but he still somehow manages to finish his breakfast before you’re even out of bed, the container already in the trash.

“Good morning,” you mumble, wiping your eyes as they adjust to the bright light in the kitchen.

Lando looks up from his phone in surprise, clearly not expecting to see you awake this early. “Hey, what are you doing up?” He asks in a soft voice.

“Wanted to say goodbye,” you say as you walk closer to the kitchen island at which he’s sitting.

“There’s no need for that, Y/N. I’ll see you again soon enough.” The smile on his face is sickeningly sweet, a clear contrast to the words coming out of his mouth.

You frown, “You’re leaving for a week… What do you mean, there’s no need?”

Lando sighs at your question, “Never mind, it’s kind of you to get up extra early just for me,” he smiles dismissively before getting up from his seat. “It’s time for me to go,” he says looking at his watch before grabbing his backpack and suitcase which are sitting by the door, “I’ll see you in a week.”

You’re left staring in surprise as the door slams closed. He didn’t kiss you goodbye. He always did that, even during the worst of fights. That’s your rule. Formula 1 is a dangerous sport, he could be hurt in a split second, never mind being killed. From the start of your relationship, he always kissed you before he left, just in case. You hated the thought at the start, but learned to think it was sweet; that, in case something happened, at least he kissed his girl goodbye.

You’re watching your marriage crumble before your eyes, and Lando doesn’t seem to have a clue, or pretends not to notice. This is it, you decide. This cannot go any further. As soon as he gets home, you will talk to Lando, no matter how badly it will affect his race. You can’t do this any longer.

However, somebody else is already one step ahead of you. Carlos had noticed the toll your strained marriage with Lando was taking on you, and couldn’t help confronting Lando the first second he saw him. It didn’t help either that Charles was way too curious about the relationship drama. He had been pushing Carlos to find out more to save his gossip-desperate soul after the radio silence during the break.

“Hey, Lando!” Carlos yells, jogging up to Lando and matching his pace.

“Hey, man! How are you doing? Had a nice break?” Lando asks, giving Carlos a quick hug.

“Yeah, yeah, I had fun. What about you?”

“Ah, yes. Of course. It was good to get some time off. I really needed it; finally got to see my friends again,” Lando grins while Carlos raises an eyebrow at the answer.

“What about your wife? Finally got to spend some time with her now that you didn’t have to travel so much?” Carlos asks.

Lando laughs awkwardly at his suggestive question, “You know it!”

Carlos ignores the casual response. “I actually saw Y/N last week, at a friend’s birthday party. Was surprised to see you didn’t come with her…”

A frown etches onto Lando’s face. “What birthday party?”

“I think she’s one of Y/N’s best friends, she turned 25?”

Lando’s eyes widen in realisation. “Fuck, yes, I remember now.”

“She told you about it?” Carlos asks, watching as Lando’s expression shifts from realisation to discomfort.

“Yeah… She mentioned it a couple of times,” he admits. “She didn’t tell me that she went...”

Carlos lets him ponder it for a moment before adding, “Well, she was there. We talked for a bit, actually.”

Lando feels his stomach tighten. He tilts his head slightly. “What did she say?”

Carlos hesitates, glancing around the paddock while he weighs his options. “Uhm, she said you’ve been distant lately. That you haven’t been paying much attention to her, that you missed your anniversary…”

Lando stops walking. “She told you about that?”

“Yeah, man.” Carlos sighs. “Look, she didn’t go into too much detail, but… she sounded upset. Maybe you should make some time for her, take her out on a date or something. It seems like she feels pretty lonely.”

Lando shifts uncomfortably, his heart sinks in his chest. “Lonely?” The word echoes in his mind, unsettling him. He knows the feeling all too well. He’s the reason his wife has been feeling lonely? The guilt settles deep within his soul as he mulls it over. He tries to laugh it off, but it feels hollow. “She knows how demanding the season has been. I’ve been swamped.”

“I’m sure she does, but… it’s more than that. She told me she feels like you don’t really care about her anymore.” The look on his face is serious as he says it.

Lando blinks, the weight of Carlos’ words sinking in. How could he have missed something so crucial? Why hadn’t Y/N said anything? More importantly, why hadn’t he noticed?”

“She thinks I don’t care about her?” He mutters to himself. His gaze is unfocused as he chews his lip, running a hand over his face out of frustration. “Why didn’t she tell me?” He says quietly.

“There was no opportunity to tell you, she said. You're never home.”

Carlos lets out another sigh. “I’m sorry. I know it’s none of my business, but I don’t want your marriage to be ruined. I know you love Y/N to pieces. I would be upset with myself if you guys don’t make it out together knowing I could have done something about it. That being said, I think you should talk to her.”

Lando nods absentmindedly. He didn't even consider that they might not make it out okay. “You’re right. Thanks for telling me, man.”

As Carlos walks away, Lando is left standing there, his mind working overtime. He had been busy, yes, but surely you understood that, right? He’d been working so hard for the both of you, to secure a future for you. But… had he been neglecting you without even realising it?

The conversation with Carlos continues to replay in his head throughout the day. Maybe he hadn’t been as attentive as he thought. Maybe all those nights out with friends, all those early mornings spent focused on racing had a bigger effect than he assumed. He tries to push the thoughts away, to justify it with the pressure of the season, but it doesn’t sit right anymore.

The rest of the weekend Carlos’ words echo through his head, ‘She feels like you don’t really care about her anymore.’ Lando can barely concentrate with the guilt that’s gnawing at his conscious.

– – – – –

By the time Lando leaves his hotel, he has formed a plan. He has rehearsed a dozen different apologies in his head. He’ll explain what happened, that he’s been so busy with work that he didn’t notice, and he’ll say sorry and change his behaviour. And after that, all will be well.

His plan is thrown out the window as soon as he gets home and sees his wife sitting on the couch, your face pale and tired as you watch TV. The state of you makes the practised words dry on his tongue. How could he not have noticed what was happening?

“Why didn’t you tell me you felt lonely?”

You look up in surprise at the abrupt question cutting through the silence. No ‘hello’, no ‘how are you’, no ‘I missed you, baby’, just the sharp edge of confrontation.

“What?”

“Carlos told me you’ve been feeling lonely. Why didn’t you tell me?”

You frown at his directness, “When was I supposed to do that, Lando? You’re always gone.”

“That’s not true—” he tries to protest, but you cut him off.

“There was not one moment I could have told you, Lando! You’re always busy with work and when you’re not, your friends take up all your free time! You haven’t made any time for me in weeks, months even!” You yell.

Tears well up in your eyes at the confrontation. You had kept your frustrations to yourself for weeks and now that he finds out about your feelings he decides to yell at you for it. How else are you expected to react?

Your words hit Lando hard, each one landing like a punch. His eyes flicker with guilt. “I’ve been under so much pressure. The team needs me—this season could be my best chance at a championship, and I—”

You cut him off, your voice soft. “I know, Lando. I know how important your career is and that this is your chance, but that doesn’t mean all your time should be spent on racing. You’ve no time left for me anymore; all your energy is drained when I finally see you at the end of the day.”

“I can’t help that my job is demanding! You know that, Y/N. You’ve always known that. It takes a lot of time to improve, and the team is finally performing. It’s my chance at a championship! I can’t pass that up!”

“I get that Lando, I really do. But I’ve felt alone in this relationship for months now. I never see you, we never talk… The night of the party you didn’t even text me to ask where I was, or who I was with. You were already sleeping before I got home! Weren’t you worried at all? Or even curious to know where I was, whether I was safe? Sometimes… Sometimes, I doubt whether you still care about me – whether you still love me, because it feels like you don’t.” The tears slowly fall down your face while you say it.

That’s when it hits him – truly hits him. Lando swears he could hear his heart break. He looks at you in shock, and you can’t deny you feel a little better because of it. Had he really fucked up that bad? Do you really believe he no longer loves you, or cares about you? You are the most important person in his life. How could this have gone so far without him noticing? How could he have made the love of his life feel like she wasn’t loved? He runs a hand through his hair in distress, trying to wrap his head around your admission.

“I’ve been patient, Lando. I’ve been understanding, but you’re just never present. Not just physically, but mentally, too. I miss you.”

Lando looks at you sadly from across the room, disappointed in himself. He quickly closes the distance, reaching for your hand. His voice is soft when he speaks to you. “I do. I do love you, Y/N,” he says, caressing your face softly, pulling your chin up so your eyes meet, his teary eyes staring into your red ones. “You’re the love of my life. I care about you so much. You’re the most important to me, above anything else, and you always will be. Don’t forget that, okay? Promise me you’ll never forget that, baby.”

You sniffle, wiping away the tears that are slowly making their way down to your chin, while you nod. The sound physically pains him, his heart twisting torturously in his chest. He vows to never make you cry again.

“I’m so sorry I let it come this far, darling. I’ve been so wrapped up in everything, trying to win, trying to be perfect for the team that I didn’t see what I was losing in the process.”

You interrupt him, “I don’t need perfect, Lando. I just need you to be here. With me. Because if it keeps going like this… I don’t know how much longer I can take it.”

Her words hang between them, and for the first time in weeks, Lando realises the gravity of what he stands to lose if he doesn’t make a change soon. He nods frantically. “Of course, baby. I’ll do anything to make it up to you. You say the word, and I’ll do it. I don’t want you to feel like I don’t love you, because I do. So much. I can’t lose you, I don’t ever want to come this close to losing you ever again.”

He pulls you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you like he’s afraid to let go; like you’ll walk away from him as soon as he does. You press your face into his chest, missing the feeling of him against you and his comforting scent. The last time he touched you, let alone hugged you feels like ages ago.

“I’ll be better, I’ll make time for you, I promise,” he mumbles, his mouth grazing over your hair, as he tugs you impossibly closer into his tight embrace.

You smile faintly through your tears. “I believe you.”

1K notes · View notes

sturniolohouse · 4 months ago

Text

Do Not Wait - M.S

a/n: this got heavier than i planned initially but i just leaned into wherever the story took me. it's also very reader focused, which i realized way too late. but, do not fret, matt is still in it :) lmk if you'd like me to continue this as a series... i hope yall like it, im proud of it.

summary: while matt is away, reader learns and struggles with some unexpected news that will change both their lives forever.

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, vomit, blood, death, grief, panic attacks, cursing. (no use of y/n)

word count: 11.7k

song: do not wait - wallows

"And it gets worse before it gets better That's one thing that I have come to know Just so you know"

“I hate to leave you like this,” Matt sighs, pushing my hair out of my face as his dark silhouette sits beside me on the bed.

I lay curled up in a ball after spending majority of the night sick. I feel terrible because I kept Matt up when he had to be up early for his flight to Chicago today.

Despite my attempts to avoid disturbing him, he spent most of the night beside me, rubbing my back while I hunched over the toilet and bringing me water.

I toss and turn, unable to find a comfortable position as my restlessness and nausea worsen by the second.

Matt’s hand touches my forehead, gently pushing my hair back and mindlessly scratching my head. I sit up as another wave of nausea twists my stomach, and I take a deep breath, hoping to suppress it. Matt sits up behind me, his hand now rubbing my back as I lean over the side of the bed with my head between my knees.

Thankfully, a moment later the wave of sickness passes and I sit up straight with a small groan as my body aches.

“I’m going to sleep on the couch. I don’t want to get you sick, and you have to be up in a few hours,” I croak, but he protests, gently pulling me back into bed.

"I don't give a fuck. I'll sleep on the plane, you're staying right here,"

As the morning light begins to filter through the curtains, Matt’s alarm goes off. By then, we had maybe collectively slept an hour and I knew he must have been exhausted. He got ready quietly trying his best not to disturb me, but I was already awake.

I don’t think sleep is in the cards for me tonight.

He places the back of his hand on my forehead, then my cheek, his touch gentle and searching.

“You still don’t have a fever...I don’t know if that’s good or bad,” He sighs, his fingers sifting through my hair with a tenderness that makes my heart ache.

Even with the faint light of dawn as our only source, I can still make out his concerned expression as he scans my face.

“I've never been this sick before. It must be a bug,” My voice is hoarse from repeatedly throwing up.

“Please, stay here with Nick while I’m gone so you have someone to look after you. I’m gonna text him now so he sees it when he wakes up. God, I don’t even want to go anymore,” He wipes his hand down his face in stress and I shake my head.

“No, stop, don’t worry about me. I’m gonna be fine. I’ll stay here with Nick. Please don’t be late for your flight,” I insist, gripping his hand weakly. “I’m going to make some tea and try to get some rest.” I go to get up but he puts his hand on my shoulder.

“I’ll make you tea, while we wait for the Uber. What do you want, mint?” He asks softly, his hand rubbing up and down my hip.

I nod weakly, thanking him.

I doze off a bit while he goes to make my tea, the repercussion of not sleeping catching up to me. When I open my eyes again, he’s setting my steaming mug on the bedside shelf carefully and placing two advils next to it.

“Text me when you wake up? And let me know if you have to go to urgent care, I’ll send you an Uber.” He tells me softly, his voice trembling with an emotion he’s trying to hide.

His reluctance to leave is evident in every line of his face.

I nod tiredly, “Mm, text me when you and Chris land. Have fun in Chicago. I love you.”

“I love you,” He kisses my forehead, before grabbing his suitcase by his bedroom door and leaving.

I was able to sleep a couple of more hours before I woke up again, dry heaving into the toilet because I quite literally had nothing left in my stomach.

I showered, brushed my teeth and went into the kitchen, searching for something bland to settle my stomach. I had decided to grab a rice cake and made more mint tea before I sprawled out on the couch in one of Matt’s hoodies.

It’s not the first time he’s been away, but this time, I miss him more than I anticipated. Even the scent of his hoodie brings a wave of emotion that catches me off guard.

We’ve never been one of those couples that spends every second of every day together anyway. Not even when we first started dating. We’ve always given each other the space we need.

But I must admit I could go for one of his hugs right now.

It’s around 10 AM when Nick comes down stairs and his face tells me everything I need to know about my appearance.

“I know, I look like shit.” I deadpan and he covers his mouth with wide eyes.

“I got Matt’s texts...I thought that motherfucker was being dramatic. Are you feeling any better?” He asks with a hand on his chest.

“Well, I haven’t thrown up in three hours, so that’s a new record. Your poor brother, I kept him up all night,”

“He'll live, do you want to go to urgent care?”

“No, I’ll wait it out. It’s gotta pass and I was able to keep my breakfast down.” I wave a hand.

Nick goes to make his own breakfast, slicing an apple before coming over to sit on the couch with me.

“Apple?” He offers me, munching on his own bite.

I decline shaking my head with a frown.

Nick wanted to watch Love Island, so I let him change the TV, feeling my eyelids grow heavy. As the sounds of the show filled the room, I found myself dozing off, giving in to the rest my body needs.

When I wake up, I have a blanket over me and Nick is editing on his laptop.

He notices me move and takes his headphones off one ear.

“Hey, you feeling better? Matt keeps pestering me for updates,” He shows me his phone with messages from a worried Matt.

I sigh, “Jesus...I’ll call him. But yes, I feel better now that I've gotten some sleep.” I get up and stretch my body, wincing at my achy muscles.

“How long was I out?” I ask grabbing my phone to see my own set of messages from Matt.

Kid worries too much.

“About 3 hours, you were knocked out. I’m gonna order food, are you hungry for anything?” He asks and my stomach rumbles at the thought of one food.

“I could fuck up some tacos right now,” I raise an eyebrow at him at my suggestion.

“I like the way you’re thinking.” He snaps his fingers pointing at me in agreement.

“Birria tacos for me and a Diet Coke. I’ll be right back, I’m gonna go call your brother before he has a heart attack.” I say walking to Matt’s room and calling him.

He picks up on the first ring.

“Hey,” He breaths out, his voice soft.

“What did I tell you about worrying about me?” I tease him and he laughs, sounding relieved.

"Hi!" I heard Chris shout in the background, before I heard a door close and Matt sigh. I'm guessing he went into a separate room.

“If you saw the state you were in before I left this morning, you’d be worried too. I take it you’re feeling better? Heard you napped,” He speaks up again, talking at a normal volume now.

“I was physically feeling the state I was in. But, yeah, a little better after my nap. How was your flight?” I ask, playing with the trinkets on his shelves.

“Besides me worrying the entire flight about you dehydrating and dying? Fine. A little turbulence, but nothing crazy.”

“Okay, drama, relax. I’m staying hydrated, I’ve napped, Nick and I are about to order some tacos. It must have just been a bug. I must admit, you're very cute when you worry about me though.” I smile and he hums shly.

A beat of silence goes by and I look at the photobooth picture of Matt and I on his wall.

“I miss you,” I admit to him, leaning down to inhale the collar of his sweatshirt on me.

“I miss you too. You know I haven't even been gone 12 hours though,” He reminds me, sounding amused at my unexpected sappyness.

I sigh, “I know,”

Suddenly I have a lump of emotion in my throat and he automatically hears the switch of my tone.

“Hey woah, what happened? Why are you upset?” He sounds panicked.

“Oh my god, sorry. I don’t know. I’m not even sad,” I choke back my tears.

“Doesn’t sound like it.." He doesn't sound convinced. "Do I need to come home?" He says next and I'm immediately objecting.

“What! No. Matt, I promise I’m fine.” I tell him quickly, taking off my hoodie as I begin to overheat.

“I love you... I’ll be back before you know it, okay? S'nothing we haven’t done before.” He reminds me softly and my bottom lip wobbles.

“Mhm,” I manage to get out and he sighs again.

“Sweetheart... You’re telling me not to be worried, but I’m beyond worried. Can you please tell me what’s wrong?” He pleads and I shake my head even though he can't see me.

“I honestly couldn’t tell you...I-i think I just needed to cry, and missing you isn’t helping because I wish I could hug you but you’re so f-far,” I hiccup.

“Okay, deep breaths, how about you take a nice hot shower–maybe a bath. Use Nick’s bath and when you’re done, you can eat your tacos and you’ll feel better. Okay? Listen, Chris and I are about to leave for dinner, are you going to be alright?” He checks in, sounding hesitant to hang up.

“Yes, I’m fine. Seriously. I’m sorry. I must be starting my period soon.” I compose myself, trying to ignore the sudden ache in my heart.

“It’s okay,” he says softly, his voice gentle and sweet.

Any other time, he’d be teasing me for being a crybaby—lovingly, of course—but I think he senses that my emotions are genuinely beyond my control right now.

“I love you,” he says again with emphasis, wanting to hear me say it back.

“I love you, so much," I say weakly, "Have fun at dinner and tell Chris I said hi.” I tell him, wiping my eyes.

“Will do. I’ll call you when we get back.” He says goodbye, hanging up.

I take a deep breath and I shake my head, feeling frustrated with my poorly-timed emotions. I feel terrible for worrying him more, I wanted this trip for him to be fun. Chris had really been looking forward to going with Matt—it had become a sort of tradition for the two of them. I need to get my emotions under control.

I wince again as I feel the heaviness and soreness in my breasts. Sighing, I go to my phone and check my period app to see when this torture will be over.

My stomach drops when I open the app and see I'm 13 days late.

My head feels dizzy suddenly and I pinch my eyes closed as the pit in my stomach spurs on more nausea. I lay back and put my arm over my eyes and take deep breaths.

My mind races, but I can’t seem to focus on one thought.

No, I can’t be.

I’m just stressed, that’s all.

I have an IUD, it's not possible.

But everything's adding up; the nausea, heightened emotions, late period...

I sit up slowly, feeling the weight of the realization settle on me. My heart pounds in my chest and I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out the flood of emotions threatening to drown me. But there’s no escaping this.

With trembling hands, I go to call Matt back, my thumb hovers over the call button but I stop myself. He’s going to dinner right now, on the opposite side of the country.

I can't burden him with this, not when I don’t even know for sure.

Dropping my phone onto the bed beside me, I try to self soothe, taking deep breaths to steady myself, but the anxiety is relentless.

I walk out of the room and Nick is asking me what kind of salsa I want with my tacos before he looks up at me. He immediately furrows his brows in worry.

“Hey–what's going on, are you okay?” He sits up and places his laptop on the coffee table.

“I-I can't breath,” I gasp, reaching out for him, feeling like a little kid.

He instantly stands up, wrapping his arms around my shoulders.

“What’s happened? Deep breaths, big deep breaths. There you go,” He rubs my back and I breath deeply with him.

My cheek smushed into his chest as I listen to the beating of his heart to help ground me. I pull away, still trembling and shake my head, unsure if I should even be telling Nick this.

This should be Matt.

Nick's eyes search mine, sensing my hesitancy. “You don’t have to talk if you’re not ready,” he says softly, his hands rubbing my shoulders.

I bite my lip, feeling a mix of guilt and desperation.

I don’t want to drag Nick into something so personal, but this is too overwhelming to keep bottled up.

“I… I think I might be pregnant,” I finally whisper, the words barely escaping my lips.

Saying it out loud makes it feel all the more real, and the weight of it presses down on me like a ton of bricks.

Nick’s expression shifts from worry to shock, his mouth falling agape and silence ringing between us. Once he hears me whimper, he snaps out of it and brings me back into a bone crushing hug.

"Shh, okay–it's okay, um…” His voice wavers, and I can feel his heart racing against my cheek.

For a moment, it seems like he’s trying to find the right words, but all that comes out is a nervous laugh.

“This is… wow, this is big. I'm sorry– I don't know what else to say right now,” His voice high pitched and shaky.

I can’t help but let out a shaky laugh with him, even through my anxiety.

“Yeah, big,” I agree, my voice barely above a whisper.

Nick pulls back just enough to look at me, his uncertainty showing in the way his eyes dart around, trying to process everything at once.

“I mean, I’m no expert on this—obviously—but we'll figure this out. You're gonna be okay, everything's gonna be okay.”

His reassurance is genuine, but I can see he's trying to convince himself too; a flicker of doubt in his eyes.

This is uncharted territory for both of us.

Nick and I had decided to order the tests along with the food, killing two birds with one stone. He’s doing his best to stay calm for my sake, but the trembling of his hands as he places the order is hard to miss.

"Okay, tacos and tests are on the way. I got, well, all of them because I don't know which one is best. I even got ice cream. Fuck, when did it get so hot in here? I'm overheating–are you overheating?" He says, his words moving a mile a minute as he fans himself with his shirt.

I can't help but to laugh as his nerves show and he shakes his head.

"I'm sorry, I know you're the one potentially knocked up by my idiot brother but I'm just so nervous. I'm sweating like a monster," His voice cracks.

"Do you mind if I use your bath?" I ask and he nods right away.

“Are you kidding? Of course, go ahead. Someone has to use it. I’m gonna…Well, I’ll just wait out here and try to chill.” He gives me a quick, reassuring smile, though it’s clear he’s still on edge.

I head to his bathroom and try to forget about my racing thoughts.

I turn the faucet on and put in some bath salts, checking the temperature before I step over to the vanity mirror. I take a look at my appearance and notice the puffiness in my face right away. My cheeks are flushed and my eyes are bloodshot.

I blow out a raspberry as I undress and get into the hot water.

The heat soothes my aching muscles and clears my mind. I soaked for a while, even draining a bit of the water and refilling the tub with more hot water. Once I feel myself pruning, I decide it's time I get out.

As I dry myself off, I notice light blood on the towel. My heart races, and I quickly check again—I'm bleeding. Very lightly, but there’s blood.

Relief floods through me, and I almost cry again, this time from the emotional whiplash. My legs feel shaky, so I sit down on the edge of the tub to steady myself, my breath coming out in shaky bursts.

Clutching the towel to my chest, I close my eyes and let out a long, relieved sigh.

“Thank God,” I whisper, feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes.

I try not to dwell on the small part of me that almost wanted to feel disappointed. Maybe even mourning the part of me that might have embraced being pregnant–excited, even.

Instead, I focus on center of my emotions, the part where a massive weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Eventually, I pull myself together, cleaning myself up and getting dressed.

When I step out of the bathroom, Nick is on his bed, clearly trying to keep himself distracted. My eyes go to the food and the tests at the foot of the bed.

As soon as he sees me, he shoots up, his expression immediately shifting to one of concern.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice soft. I nod, a small smile breaking through the lingering anxiety.

“I’m okay,” I say, my voice a little shaky. “I uh…I got my period, I think,”

Nick’s face lights up with relief, his shoulders visibly relaxing. “Oh, thank God,” he shouts, “This is great fucking news—right?” He checks in and I nod.

“Yeah,” I agree, feeling a little dazed by how quickly everything has turned around. “I think we’re in the clear. We won't be needing those tests, I'll pay you back for them,"

Nick ignores me, pulling me into a bear hug, his arms so tight around me, I can barely breath.

“Shut up I don't care,” he says, “You don't have a parasite in you!" He cheers, jumping us up and down.

We both let out laughs, the tension that had been looming over us now replaced with a lightness.

“Let’s eat,” I suggest, letting out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

Nick nods, "Couldn't agree more,"

We sit on his bed and for the first time all day, I feel like I can actually breathe.

As we dig into the tacos, Nick puts Love Island back on and we rot in bed for a few hours.

But even as we talk and laugh, there's still a pit in my stomach. A small portion of me can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t over yet.

Yeah, there's was blood. But it was different than my normal period. It was lighter.

I try not to panic, but I can't help but feel like my intuition is trying to tell me something. For now, I push my thoughts aside, focusing on Nick beside me yelling at the annoying horny people on his TV.

Nick offered for me to sleep in his room but I declined, wanting to sleep in Matt's bed.

Matt never called me, but he texted me apologizing and checking in on me. I listened to a voice memo he sent me of all they did today and I was genuinely glad he was having fun, so I didn't mind him not calling.

Plus, I'm not entirely sure I'm in the right state of mind to have a conversation with him right now. I wouldn't be able to keep today's events to myself.

I know I can’t keep him in the dark—I need to tell him what’s going on.

I glance at the stack of tests on his dresser and sigh. The bleeding from earlier has stopped, leaving me with a pit in my stomach.

I know I’ll have to take those tests, even if only for clarity. But for now, I’m going to force myself to sleep.

I find myself in a place that feels both familiar and strange. It's warm, the sun showering the garden and I immediately know I'm in my grandmother's backyard.

The breeze picks up, carrying the scent of blooming flowers—lilies, hyacinths, peonies, and marigolds—enveloping me in a peacefulness that feels like a comforting blanket.

I walk along the familiar stone path, my fingers grazing the soft petals of the flowers. Each step feeling like a compelling, magnetic pull, guiding me deeper into the garden.

I see her then–my grandmother, seated on a wooden bench beneath the shade of the large oak tree I used to climb as a child.

My breath hitches, she doesn't look sick. Her smile is lively, her cheeks rosy and the green in her eyes vibrant.

But there’s something else different, a kind of ethereal glow about her that sends a chill down my spine.

“Come here, my girl,” she says, her voice soft and inviting.

I walk over to her, feeling a strange mix of emotions: comfort, longing, and an inexplicable sadness.

I sit down beside her and she takes my hand in hers, her touch warm and reassuring.

“I’ve missed you,” I say, my voice thick with emotion, unable to fathom her not sick in a hospital bed.

She smiles, her eyes full of love. “I haven't gone anywhere."

There’s a pause as I try to process her words, but then she looks at me knowingly, another shiver down my spine.

"You're glowing," She hums, tucking my hair behind my ear.

I look at her confused until she places a hand to my stomach. My breath hitches and I can't control the tear that rolls down my cheek.

I shake my head in disbelief, "How...d-do you know?" I whisper, my voice getting lost in the intoxicating breeze.

It's then that I feel a deep flutter in my stomach, one that I can't describe.

I place my hand over my grandmother's that still rests on my stomach. The flutter intensifies, my heart mimicking the pattern as warmth blooms in my chest. The feeling is overwhelming.

An unexpected, joyous sob escapes my lips before I can stop it, tears blurring my vision.

“You're both going to be okay,” My grandmother says softly, gently wiping away my tears.

My lip wobbles and I let out a shaky breath before she speaks up again.

“She’s strong too, just like you.”

“She..?” I squeak. My grandmother’s smile returns, softer this time and she nods.

A wave of shock and confusion washes over me, but before I can ask more, the garden begins to fade. The colors bleeding into each other until everything is a swirl of light.

Her voice echoes as the dream dissolves, “Don't be afraid, Petal.”

I shoot up, my heart racing, my face soaked in tears and my body covered in a cold sweat. I feel disoriented as I take in my surroundings and my mind tries to grasp the remnants of the dream.

My grandmother’s face, her words, the fluttering in my stomach. But now, that fluttering has turned into a twisting feeling in my gut.

Something was wrong.

My phone buzzes, startling me out of my tangled, fuzzy thoughts. My hands tremble slightly as I reach for my phone.

It’s my mom.

“Hello?” I answer, my voice thick with sleep and confusion.

There’s a pause on the other end, and then my mom’s voice comes through, shaky and heavy with emotion.

“Honey...I'm sorry I'm calling you so early, but it’s Grandma....Sh-she passed in her sleep early this morning.”

The words hit me like a punch in the gut, and for a moment, I can’t breathe. She continues to talk but I can't hear her, my ears ring and time slows down.

A flood of emotions overcome me.

Grief, shock, and the strange sense that the dream was more than just a figment of my imagination.

As the reality of her passing sinks in, I’m left with the weight of her final words to me. She was telling me something important, something I can’t ignore anymore.

My stomach twists again and I bolt to the bathroom where I throw up until I'm dry heaving into the toilet.

I'm not even shocked when the test immediately shows up positive. I stare blankly at the two pink lines, the only hint of emotion is the tremor in my hand as I grab the test and chuck it into the trash can.

I feel numb.

Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I see the emptiness in my eyes, the darkness encasing them. The person staring back is a stranger.

I'm pregnant.

I should be feeling joy, maybe even excitement—I want to at least, but all I feel is nothing. My experience overshadowed by my grief. By the anomaly of this situation, how this could have happened.

I have an IUD, I was bleeding, but here we are.

I wanted Matt to be the first to know, to share in that moment with him, but now everything feels wrong, out of order.

I feel robbed of the happiness I should be feeling.

I step into the shower and let the scalding hot water claw at my skin. I finally let myself break down, grief rattling through me and slicing me open.

My dream replays in my mind over and over again. My grandmother's eyes, her warmth, her words, her hand on my stomach.

“You’re both going to be okay,”

My hand instinctively goes to my stomach. I press my palm into my abdomen, expecting to feel that flutter, desperate to feel any sort of connection with the life that's there–to cling to the intense joy from my dream...but there's nothing.

It was ripped away from me from the moment I woke up.

“She’s strong too, just like you,”

I whimper, the sound dissolving into the rush of the water.

I don’t feel strong. I feel weak.

My grandmother told me not to be afraid, but I can’t escape this overwhelming anxiety, the suffocating uncertainty that engulfs me.

The tightness in my chest, the heaviness in my heart, the deep-seated guilt that festers within me.

I cry and cry and cry until I can’t anymore, until the tears run dry, leaving only the ache in my chest.

When the water turns cold and the sun fully rises, is when I finally get out. My feet drag beneath me as I walk back into Matt's room and get dressed.

I pull on one of Matt's crewnecks and some sweats before I go into the kitchen to make a tea.

I make myself an Earl Grey, my grandmother's favorite.

I sit down at the dining table and book the first flight back home to Maine, which is tomorrow morning. My mom and I spoke again and she told me the funeral isn't until next week, but I wanted to be there for her. I couldn’t stay here right now.

My stomach growls loudly and I press my palms into my eye sockets. I suppose I should really eat something with substance, especially now.

I grab the berries from the fridge that are in their last leg, washing them before forcing myself to eat. The tartness of the blueberries sparks a memory of helping my grandmother make blueberry pancakes on Sunday mornings. I smile sadly at the fond memory of being her little sous chef.

When 7 AM rolls around, restlessness overtakes me and I step outside, sitting in the front stoop before calling Matt.

"You're up early," His voice thick with sleep as he greets me through the line.

"Hey," I say weakly, letting out a sigh as I gaze up at the clear sky. There's not a single cloud in sight.

"What's wrong?" His tone immediately shifts to concern.

"Matt... my grandma passed this morning," I start, my voice trembling slightly.

I omit the dream and the positive pregnancy test in his bathroom, grateful that he can't see my face.

There's a heavy sigh on the other end. "I'm so sorry. I know she was sick for a while... Are you doing okay? How's your mom?"

"I'm... managing. And my mom, she's actually doing okay. I think we're all relieved in a way, you know? It was only a matter of time. I'm just glad she's not suffering anymore," I navigate my feelings about her passing, my voice surprisingly steady.

"Of course," His voice is so soft, fueling my longing for his touch.

"Do you think…there's any way you can change your flight on Tuesday to go to Maine? The funeral isn’t until next Thursday, but I’m getting there tomorrow afternoon." I ask, playing with a loose string on my sweatpants.

"Of course, I'll look at flights right now," he responds without hesitation.

"Thank you, I just....I need you there," I tell him, feeling a tightness in my chest when I avoid mentioning the conversation we need to have.

"I'll be there. I found a flight that will get me there tomorrow night."

"Matt–" I start to protest.

"I already changed it. No refunds," He cuts me off, his voice firm. "Sweetheart, you need me, I'm not going to make you wait until fucking Tuesday."

"What about the rest of your trip? You'll miss the rest of the festival, and Chris–" I try and reason with him.

"Listen to me carefully...I don't give a fuck about the festival. You need me there, and I'm going to be there. Chris will be fine, he's a big boy. He has Sam here with him and they'll fly back to LA together," His tone leaving no room for argument, his mind was made up.

A small, grateful smile tugs at my lips as tears well up in my eyes.

"I love you," I manage to say, my voice trembles with emotion.

"I love you, so much it hurts. I wish I could hug you right now but I'll see you tomorrow, okay? I’m gonna go talk to Chris, text me or call me if you need me. I mean it, kid."

“I will,” I promise, ending the call and looking up at the sky again, wrapping my arms around myself as the cool morning air brushes against my skin.

I take a deep breath, the air filling my lungs grounding me. As I exhale, I try to focus on the one thing I know for sure—I may not feel strong, but I need to be and not just for myself, but for the life growing inside of me.

My grandmother's words echo in my mind.

"Don't be afraid, Petal."

–

Nick wakes up shortly after, only taking one look at me before I’m breaking down again—the weight of everything crashing down on me like another tidal wave.

I tell him everything, my dream, my grandmother's passing, I show him the positive pregnancy test.

I cry into his chest, feeling overwhelmed.

"I'm just s-so confused," I manage to say between sobs. "In my dream, I was so happy... everything felt right. I felt connected with..." My words trail off, dissolving into incoherent blubbering.

Nick just listens, rubbing my back in slow, soothing circles.

"Listen," he begins softly, "your body is under a lot of stress right now. You just found out about your grandma, and then this very unexpected news on top of it… Every single emotion you’re feeling is normal, and 100 percent valid. But you have so many people by your side who love you and will help you through this, no matter what you decide..."

I sniffle, trying to regulate my breathing as I take in his words.

"I'm angry, too," I admit, my voice cracking with the strain of holding it all in. "This is so unfair. The timing of this couldn't be worse... I can't even talk to Matt and I feel awful keeping this from him. He shouldn't have to find out like this."

"Everything is going to be okay, deep breaths," Nick repeats, his voice calm as he helps me process the flood of emotions.

I blow out a raspberry, pulling back and running my hands down my face in frustration. When I look at him, he's watching me cautiously, trying to read my expression.

"I'm pregnant," I say softly, the words finally leaving my lips for the first time.

A mix of emotions swirls in my chest and stomach—fear, uncertainty, a strange kind of acceptance.

Nick nods slowly, his eyes still scanning my face, and for a moment, I find myself imagining if this was me telling Matt.

More dread fills me.

How will he react? Will he be the support I need?

We’ve talked about having kids before. They were always in the cards for us, but never this soon.

We only just started to discuss getting our own place and now our lives are going to be changing forever.

Nick helped me pack as I tried to arrange a last-minute appointment to confirm my pregnancy, which proved to be quite the ordeal.

The receptionists initially inform me that they didn't have any openings for weeks. However, when I mention the IUD and a positive pregnancy test, the urgency in their voice shifted dramatically.

They told me to come in right away.

The urgency in the receptionists voice on the phone didn’t help my nerves. Neither when they took me straight into an examination room the minute I told them my name.

They take my vitals, draw my blood and give me a cup to pee in.

I left Nick in the waiting room, dressing down into the gown they placed neatly on the exam chair. I look around at the diagrams of the fetuses and the posters of the development. I’ve seen these countless times and never thought twice, but this time I feel unsettled.

I swallow thickly and sit on the loud crinkly paper with the anticipation of the doctor coming in soon.

There’s a soft double knock on the door before a head of wild, curly hair peeks in.

“Hello, hello. I’m Dr. Sullivan,” She says washing her hands and sitting down on the swivel stool next to the examination chair.

The woman has a mane of big, unruly curls that frame her face, with chunky black square-framed glasses perched on her slightly humped nose, drawing attention to her bright hazel eyes. A wide smile, complete with a distinctive gap between her two front teeth, radiates warmth and adds to her quirky charm. She almost seems like a character out of a cartoon—lanky, with an energetic, bouncy stride that matches her bubbly personality. She can't be much older than my mother.

"So, you are in fact pregnant. The lab results confirmed the presence of HCG, which is the hormone produced during pregnancy. "

“Do you have any idea how this happened? I mean, obviously I know how it happened but, I have an IUD.” I say, still trying to wrap my head around the situation.

She nods dramatically, her lips pressing into a line as she listens to my concerns.

“Unfortunately, no birth control is 100 percent effective. In most cases, the IUD might have been displaced, or in some instances, the body rejects the device without you knowing. I actually would like to get clarity on that with an ultrasound, but I think it’s important for you to know the risks of this scenario here.” She says, turning slightly more serious.

“Risks?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” she says softly, “There is a possibility that, due to you having an IUD, this pregnancy may not be viable. Having an IUD increases the risk of what we call an ectopic pregnancy... are you familiar with that term?” Her hazel eyes lock onto mine and I shake my head, my heart starting to pound.

“Well, because you have a contraceptive device in the space where a fetus would normally develop, there's a risk that the pregnancy could occur outside the uterus. Typically the egg will implant itself in the fallopian tubes, which cannot host a safe or viable pregnancy...And if not treated immediately, the tube can rupture and cause internal hemorrhaging," She explains gently, carefully choosing her words to convey the seriousness of the situation.

I feel my heartbeat in my ears now as I process her words.

"So you're saying, this can be life threatening...for me and the..." My throat closes up and I can't finish my sentence.

She must take notice of the panic in my face, her round eyes widening slightly.

"If it goes untreated, yes. But I don't say this to make you panic, you're in good hands and whatever happens, we will take the next steps together." She places a hand on my knee, giving the tissue box so I can dry my uncontrollable tears.

"Based on your last period, you should be about seven weeks along. This ultrasound will confirm that and also ensure the pregnancy is positioned in the uterus. Before we proceed, I'd like to ask you a few questions... do you need a minute?" she asks gently, noticing my unease.

I hiccup and shake my head. "N-no, I'll be okay. Sorry," I mumble, wiping my nose.

"Don't apologize," she says kindly, giving me a moment to collect myself anyway, which I appreciate.

For a moment, I consider calling Nick in, but I decide against it. Even though we're close, this may be a little too personal, even for him and I.

"Have you been experiencing any cramping or discomfort in your back or abdomen?" She asks and typing my answer into the computer as I tell her no.

"Any spotting or bleeding?"

"I had some light bleeding last night, it only lasted maybe an hour... I had thought it was my period, but I knew something was off." I explain to her and she nods.

"That was most likely implantation bleeding, which is normal. It can be light spotting of blood, or some women experience heavy bleeding, similar to a period." She continues to take her notes before looking to me again, "Any tenderness in your breasts?"

"Oh, for sure. My breasts have been very sore the past few days,"

"Any nausea or vomiting?"

"Yes, the last couple of days–especially at night, I've been vomiting. I haven't really been sleeping well because of it."

"Yeah, the term 'morning sickness' is misleading... It can happen any time of day, you seem to be experiencing yours during the evening. Any other symptoms you've noticed that you'd like to note?" She asks and I try to think of some things.

"Uhh, I guess I've been more tired than usual, but I chalked that up to being up all night sick...I've also been getting hot flashes recently and I've definitely been more emotional,"

"These are all good to note, thank you very much," She pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose before typing again.

She swivels herself back towards me, smiling warmly.

"We'll go ahead with the ultrasound now. But to get an accurate picture, we're going to do a transvaginal ultrasound, if that's okay with you."

"Okay, that's fine," I say, shakily.

She pulls the ultrasound cart to toward her before standing to move the stirrups into place so I can place my feet into them. She places a privacy cloth over me and I take a deep breath.

She puts a covering on the sheath of the ultrasound wand and places lubricant on the top of it. She taps a few buttons on the computer, calibrating the machine before turning towards me with a reassuring smile.

"So this will feel cold and you might feel a little pressure but if you feel any discomfort don't be afraid to tell me." She informs before placing the device inside to create the image.

I try not to wince and try to relax as much as possible. I go to look toward the screen but she has it faced towards her, so I opt to reading her facial expressions.

Dr. Sullivan adjusts her glasses by putting them on the tip of her nose and tilting her head back to get a better view.

She's quite animated with her expressions, her mouth opening slightly in concentration as she looks over the screen.

Although I can't see what she's looking at, she seems pleased, which is a relief.

"Okay, so good sign so far, I see your IUD," Dr. Sullivan says, leaning forward and pointing to the screen. "I can clearly see that it's sitting at the top of your cervix. It’s shifted down and away from your uterus. Do you happen to experience heavy cramping during your cycle?" she asks, her fingers tapping some buttons on the monitor.

"Yes, I do," I reply, the worry still gnawing at me.

She nods thoughtfully. "That could explain the displacement. Sometimes, intense cramping can cause the IUD to shift from its original position. It’s not common, but it does happen. It’s good that we’ve caught it now."

"I see the embryonic sac in, from what I can tell, a great spot. You're measuring at about 6 or 7 weeks along. Size of a blueberry." She says and I stop breathing.

I don't even hesitate to say yes as she asks if I would like to see.

My eyes are glued to the screen as I follow where her finger points, focusing on the grainy image. There it is—a tiny black oval with an even tinier dot in the middle. It's so small, I almost think I'm looking at the wrong thing.

“That’s... them?” I whisper, my voice barely audible as I try to comprehend the sight in front of me.

Dr. Sullivan nods, her expression tender. "That's your baby. It's early, but everything looks promising..."

"Really?" I squeak, still in disbelief, my throat tightening with sudden emotion as more tears fall down my face.

Relief— as she nods in confirmation, handing me the tissue box again.

Hope— as she zooms in, showing me the flickering of the heartbeat.

Joy—as I hear the heartbeat, feeling it sync with the thumping of my own.

For the first time since my dream, I feel joy, something beyond the crippling dread that had loomed over me all day. My heart swells and then bursts as I continue to stare at the flickering dot on the screen, blinking away the tears that blur my vision.

I breathe in shakily before a laugh escapes through a sob.

"Nice strong heartbeat, everything looks as it should... this looks like a healthy pregnancy," Dr. Sullivan announces, gently removing the ultrasound wand but keeping a looped video on the screen, allowing me a few more moments to take it all in.

"She's strong too, just like you,"

"So, the next step—for your safety—would be to remove the IUD today," she continues, her tone calm yet serious. "We can also discuss your options moving forward, including your decision on whether or not you would like to continue with the pregnancy. It's important to weigh all the possibilities and make the choice that's right for you."

"I-I'm gonna continue the pregnancy. It was in no way planned, but–"

"You don't need to explain...I had a feeling" She dismisses me gently, giving me a knowing smile, "I guess this calls for a congratulations,"

"Thank you," I say just above my breath, warmth still blooming through my chest.

After Dr. Sullivan removes my IUD, she tells me to dress while she steps out to calculate my due date.

I stare at the printed ultrasound picture, my heart swelling with a fierce protectiveness. I’m not worried about the complications or uncertainties ahead right now. All that matters is this life inside me.

I feel much stronger than I did merely hours ago.

My due date was February 7th, the same as my grandmother’s birthday.

–

I had landed in Maine a few hours ago, my mom and I were organizing all of my grandma's belongings. We spent the afternoon together, grabbing lunch before heading over to my grandmother's house.

The house always felt like a time capsule, preserving every memory. The duck wallpaper in the dining room, the scent of pine and clove, the worn couch cushions, her miniature schnauzer figurine collection, and the framed pressed flowers from her children’s weddings—everything was always in its rightful place. It always looked the same.

Memories of me and my siblings spending weekends here whirling behind my eyelids as I inhale the familiar scent.

It evokes a bittersweet feeling.

We keep the mood light, sharing stories with each memory we packed away. I still saw the flicker of sadness in my mom's eyes, even through her laughter as we reminisced.

Sitting on the carpet in the living room, we go through the boxes full of pictures to put together a collage for the funeral. I come across a picture of my mother pregnant with my older brother.

It's a candid photo in the kitchen of my grandmother's house, her hand resting on her swollen belly that pokes out the bottom of her blue shirt, a soft smile on her face. My grandmother is beside her, beaming with pride, tying an apron around her waist.

My mother looked so young, her freckles prominent on her flushed cheeks and her smile crinkling the corners of her eyes.

I was always told I looked more like my dad, but seeing her like this, so close to my own age now, I can't help but notice the resemblance.

My mom notices my pause and looks over my shoulder. "That was just a few weeks before your brother was born," she says softly, her voice laced with nostalgia. "Your grandmother knew we were having a boy from the moment we told her,"

Her words send a chill down my spine.

I linger on the photo, feeling a wave of emotion rise up at the mention of my grandmother as the weight of my own news presses heavier on my chest.

"Were you really sick, when you were pregnant?" I ask, lowly.

She hums in thought, "With your brother? Only for maybe the first few weeks. With you though? Forget about it, I was sick everyday for months."

I stay silent for a moment, studying another photo of my mom and dad in the hospital room with my brother the day he was born. My mom is in the hospital bed, looking tired but radiant, while my dad is crouched next to her, gently cradling my brother in his arms.

"He was so bald," I laugh softly, and my mom chuckles beside me.

"His hair was so blonde, it was practically see-through. Your father called him 'egghead' for the first two months of his life," she says, shaking her head and rolling her eyes with a smile.

I look at the photo again, my gaze lingering on my mom's face. Her expression is filled with such warmth and love as she looks at my dad.

"How did you tell dad? You guys were both pretty young," I ask and she stifles a laugh.

"We actually found out together in a gas station bathroom..." She starts off with a slightly shameful smile, "I had been so sick on our camping trip with your aunt and uncle, so I decided on our way back home to take a test. We were shocked to say the least, but we were happy," She shrugs casually.

I think about how I was alone when I found out I was pregnant. Matt wasn't there, and it wasn't his fault, but the last 36 hours of keeping this from him has been torture.

The moment I saw the second line show up with fresh cold sweat still rolling down my neck, I had to bottle up this relentless guilt.

I feel guilt. It wasn't anyone's fault. This is the most serendipitous situation I've ever been in, but I put the blame on me. I have a choice and I'm choosing the route that will completely flip our already hectic lives upside down.

Tethering us together for life.

Even if this decision it feels right, it still carries an enormous weight. It’s not just my life that’s about to change—it's Matt’s too.

I have no doubt Matt will be supportive, but when you're left alone with your thoughts long enough, you can convince yourself of anything.

I've spent every waking minute wondering how he'll react, imagining every possible scenario, from the worst to the best. It's been an endless loop of 'what ifs,' and it’s taken everything in me not to just blurt it out over the phone.

"Were you scared at all? I mean, weren't you like 20?" I press, searching for reassurance in her response.

Her eyes widen before nodding, "Oh, we were scared shitless. Your father almost passed out. We had no idea what we were doing, but hey, we survived. For better or for worse,"

I nod, looking down at my lap and fidgeting with my fingers. My chest feels tight, and the weight of everything becomes almost unbearable.

"Mom, there's something I need to tell you... I–"

"I know," She looks at me with a small smile, her green eyes glistening with tears.

My brows furrow together, giving her a confused look.

"You do?" I ask, my voice trembling.

She shrugs, "I know everything, I'm your mom... Plus, you gagged at the smell of chicken today, that was a dead giveaway." She bites back a smirk and I cover my face, laughing through some tears before looking at her again.

"I guess I’m not as good at hiding things as I thought."

"You never were," She says softly as she scoots closer to me, bringing me into her warm embrace.

I sigh deeply into her, squeezing her tight and breathing in her comforting scent.

"How are you feeling?" she asks, still holding onto me.

"Scared shitless..." I joke and we share a laugh before she pulls back to wipe the tears that escaped against my will, "But I'm happy," I admit, scanning my mother's face for any sign of judgement.

There was none.

She wipes her own few tears, looking at me with only love in her eyes.

"My baby's having a baby,"

"I think grandma sent me this baby," I whisper, allowing my emotions to come through.

My mom tucks my hair behind my ear with her gentle, comforting touch and she listens intently as I tell her my dream. We hold onto each other and cry. I then show her the ultrasound pictures and we talk until the sun disappears.

My phone buzzes softly and I check the message to find Matt’s text that he’s landed and on his way. The reality of his imminent arrival causes a mixed-wave of nausea and guilt to wash over me.

My mom looks at me with a reassuring smile.

"I'll leave you two be so you can talk. I'll see you in the morning, my love." She tells me softly, kissing my cheek and hugging me tight.

Matt and I were gonna stay here during our time in Maine. It's best right now that we have our own space, especially since my brother and his girlfriend are staying by my parents house.

As she heads out, I take a deep breath and text Matt to let him know the door is unlocked. I slip into the shower, trying to calm my racing thoughts and steady my nerves. The warm water helps, but my mind keeps racing as I mentally prepare for the conversation ahead.

Wrapped in a towel, I check my reflection in the mirror, trying to see if I look any more put together than before.

I think this is the best we're going to get.

I jump when I here the front door open and shut, then some feet shuffling. My heart skips a beat.

Matt's here.

"It's just me," I hear him call out as well as more shuffling and a paper bag crinkling.

"Hey! I-I'll be right out!" I call back out, my heart picking up again but I take a deep breath.

I quickly get dressed in a tank top and shorts; there's a heat wave here, and I can't figure out how to adjust the thermostat.

I step out of the bathroom to see Matt standing at the kitchen island, unpacking burgers and fries onto the counter. The aroma of it makes my stomach growl and I realize I hadn't eaten anything since lunch.

I admire him for a second; he's wearing pink sweatpants, a black hoodie and a backwards fitted hat.

He turns at the sound of my presence and his face softens. I'm trembling when he steps forward to embrace me into a tight hug. He buries his face into my neck before giving me a few kisses there.

"Hi," I breath out, my voice shaky.

I was so nervous.

"Hey, you okay?" His voice is so soft, my heart aches. He pulls away, rubbing his hands up and down my arms while scanning my face.

"You're shaking. What's going on?" He presses.

He knows something is up, he can see it all over my face. I shake my head, brushing it off to have one more minute with him.

I pull him back to me, wrapping my arms around his neck this time and locking him against me. He bends down a bit to accommodate but doesn't question it, just hugging me back. His arms wrapping around my waist and pressing our stomachs together.

My heart is slamming against my ribcage and I know he can feel it, his thumb rubbing my hip soothingly tells me he does.

"How are you doing?" His voice is muffled with his face buried into my neck.

"I'm okay, better now that you're here. I missed you," I mumble, kissing the side of his neck and running my hand down between his shoulder blades.

I breathe him in, noting the warmth of him and the solidness of his body against me.

"I missed you... I brought us food. I don't know about you, but I'm fucking starving," He puts his hands on my hips to pull back from the hug, but I stay put.

He chuckles, giving me one more squeeze.

I pull back just enough to line our faces up and give him a kiss, which he eagerly returns.

"Thank you for being here, it means a lot," I say against his lips and he pulls back slightly to push my hair out of my face.

"I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else." He hums into another kiss, then places three quick pecks before giving my butt a light tap, signaling that it’s time to let him go.

I finally release him and head to the food on the counter.

"I passed a Five Guys on the way here, so I hope that's good for you," He grabs a handful of fries before munching on them.

As I reach the counter, the smell of the burgers makes my mouth water, and I can’t help but smile at his thoughtfulness.

“Five Guys is perfect, thank you,” I say, grabbing a fry from the bag and tasting its salty warmth.

Matt grins, clearly pleased with himself. “Good, because I was too hungry to think of anything else,” he jokes, unwrapping one of the burgers and handing it to me.

I take it, thanking him quietly, my fingers brushing against his. For a moment, I just look at him.

He’s here, and I should be telling him I’m pregnant with his child, but instead, we’re standing in the kitchen eating burgers. As if I’m trying to cling to this last bit of normalcy before everything changes.

I force myself to take a bite of my burger, moaning at the greasy, savory goodness. Matt smirks at me, taking a hearty bite of his own burger.

“S’good?” he asks through his bite, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

I nod, moaning again in response, savoring the taste as it temporarily distracts me from everything else.

Matt takes a sip of his drink before bringing a napkin to my face and wiping the corner of my mouth and chin.

"Wipe ya lip, kid," He teases and I roll my eyes, grabbing the napkin from him.

Matt inhales another large bite of his burger, and we slip into our familiar rhythm.

He tells me about his brief trip to Chicago, and I’m relieved to hear he managed to gather a few funny stories and catch at least one day of the festival. He’s notably enthusiastic while he talks, and I can’t help but smile at his excitement.

He also reassured me that Chris wasn't upset at all, which I already knew from the sweet text he sent me this morning.

“Well, I’m glad you had fun,” I say, trying to match his enthusiasm.

I then give him the rundown for the next few days while we prepare for the funeral and memorial.

We continue eating, the conversation shifting to lighter topics as we enjoy the burgers and each other’s company.

It feels so easy, so light. It always is with us. But underneath the surface, the words I need to say weigh heavy on my mind, threatening to break the easy rhythm.

Matt watches me closely, his own burger forgotten for the moment as he sees me disappear inside my head again.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks again, his eyes look between mine. “You seem… I don’t know, you're acting weird.” He tries to find the right words.

"Matt..." I go to dismiss him, getting up slowly but he cuts me off, standing up too.

"No, I'm serious. You've been acting weird for days, and I'm no longer 2000 miles away for you to push me away or avoid me." He steps closer to me, trapping me against the counter with his arms on either side of me.

"Is it about your grandma? Did something else happen while I was gone?" He throws out, looking between my eyes.

"I–" I try to speak up but my voice gets caught in my throat and I get lost in the icy storm of his relentless gaze.

"It's not just my grandma," I manage to say, the admission causing him to soften slightly, a glimmer of relief at the small breakthrough.

"Okay, so talk to me, sweetheart. Please, I've been worried sick about you. You have no idea," he pleads, his breath brushing against my skin.

"I didn't know how to tell you..." I try to put together my words but I feel like I'm making it all worse.

I watch as his eyebrows pinch together and he leans down more so he's eye level with me instead towering over me.

"Tell me what, kid. I'm not a mind reader," His voice strains, frustration evident in his face.

When I try to break eye contact with him he pulls my chin to align our eyes again.

"What, d'you crash my car?" he guesses, clearly joking, his eyebrows raising playfully.

I can't help but smile and snort at his attempt to ease the tension.

"No, it’s not that," I say, my voice cracking slightly. "It's much bigger than that," I trail off and he waits expectantly.

"I uh– I went to the doctor yesterday," I pause and study his face, which drops ever so slightly, seeming to be bracing himself.

He stays silent, whether it was out of patience or fear, nothing could have prepared for my next sentence.

"I went to confirm that I was pregnant," I finally blurt out, my voice shaky, and he freezes.

Not one muscle moves in his face or his body.

"You're..." His voice cracks and he clears his dry throat, hitting his chest, "Are you serious?"

"I'm seven weeks, or a month and a half," I stammer, my voice wavering. "I don't really know how to—"

"Seven..." He whispers in disbelief, the shock settling in and I nod. "Y-you were on birth control– you have that AED–"

"IUD, yes, I did. It still happened, that shit is useless if it moves out of place," I explain and he looks down between us.

"A-and everything's okay, you're okay?" He looks up at me again, holding onto my face.

I take hold of his wrists, rubbing my thumb over his skin.

"I'm fine, the baby's fine..." I say softly and his eyes widen in realization as he pales.

"Oh my fucking god," He pulls back, cupping his hands over his mouth. "I need to sit down."

"Okay, okay. Do you want water?" I panic, hoping he doesn't pass out or puke.

He takes a seat at the dining table, shaking his head before taking off his hat and leaning his elbows on his knees.

"Oh my god, I thought I was crazy..." He says, his voice cracking with nerves as he presses his palms into his eye sockets.

"What?" I ask, confused.

"I had a feeling all fucking week," he says, his voice still shaky, and my brows knit together.

"I knew something was up. You were acting different. You were moodier than usual, you were napping all the time—and you never nap... and your tits are huge," he adds, and I roll my eyes.

"Sorry, that’s beside the point," he continues quickly, "I just couldn’t shake the feeling that you could be... I think I was trying to convince myself you weren't, but then you were so sick before I left," he rambles, staring blankly at the wall.

"It's a lot to take in, I know." I swallow thickly as I watch him process everything.

"You're pregnant," he says finally, looking at me again, this time with tears brimming his eyes. "And you were dealing with all of this by yourself," His voice is low and I shake my head, moving to stand between his legs, cupping his face gently.

"Hey, no. None of that... How could you have known?" I shush him and pull his head towards my chest.

His hands rest behind my thighs, his thumb lightly stroking my right leg. I run my fingers through his hair, comforting him as much as he's comforting me.

"I've been so scared to tell you..." I confess softly and he pulls back slightly, looking up at me with his brows furrowed.

"I know this wasn't part of our plan...at least not for a while. But before I took a test, the night my grandma passed, I had a dream. I was here, in my grandmother's garden... and she told me I was pregnant. Matt, the feeling I had," I pause, struggling to find the right words.

"It was the most intense, pure form of happiness I've ever felt. I can't even describe it to you..." I trail off.

I shake my head, "I know, I sound crazy. But I think this was meant to happen." I whisper, heat creeping up my neck at the admission.

He’s silent for a moment, absorbing my words. Then, a slow smirk carves a crease into the side of his mouth. "You are fucking crazy…" he murmurs, his playful tone breaking the tension as his smile lines deepen.

I huff a breathy laugh, the sound catching in my throat as my emotions take over again. Tears blur my vision, and I can’t hold them back any longer.

"Are you mad?" I squeak, letting my fear slip through the dam I built up.

He's immediately shaking his head, his eyes widen with sincerity, "Mad? Of course not. I mean, I thought we'd maybe get a cat first but..." He says, quirking his lip and I can't help the laugh that escapes through a sob.

I was the definition of an emotional wreck.

He gently squeezes my hips as I tip my head back to collect myself.

"Look at me," he says firmly, and I sniffle and hiccup before forcing myself to look at him. "Am I surprised? Yes. Terrified? Definitely. But, not even close to mad."

He wipes my tears tenderly, "We're going to be okay. Take it easy, alright? Deep breaths," His tone gentle but assertive, dragging me out of the pit of my dark thoughts.

I sigh as his thumbs draw circles on the exposed skin on my hips.

"I'm sorry," I say and he pulls me to sit sideways on his lap this time.

"Why are you sorry?" he asks softly, intertwining our fingers and bringing my hand to his mouth for a kiss.

"Our lives are going to change and I feel like it's my fault,"

"C'mere," He pulls me in fully, wrapping his arms around my waist. "I love you, and we're going to get through this... We were gonna do it anyway; we're just getting a headstart, yeah? Everything is going to work out," He tells me softly and I can tell he means every word.

Matt never says anything he doesn't mean.

"Also, don't say stupid shit like this is your fault. Last time I checked, it takes two to tango," He says firmly, lightly slapping my hip.

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat as I lean into him completely, resting my head on his shoulder. His hand rubs gentle circles on my back, and I close my eyes, letting myself soak in the comfort of his presence.

"I missed you so much," I whisper, my voice muffled against his shirt. "I've been so sick, this kid might be trying to kill me," I try to joke, and he breathes a laugh into my shoulder.

A few beats of silence pass, broken only by the distant sound of crickets outside and the occasional creak of the old house settling.

"We're having a kid," He speaks up, realization laced in his voice and I hum against him. "Maybe we're both fucking crazy,"

I stifle a laugh and pull back to look at him, "D'wanna see it?" I ask, getting up from his lap and he looks to my stomach with a raised brow.

"Kid, you're not showing yet," he says, leaning back into the chair with his arms crossed, a playful smirk on his face and I roll my eyes.

"No, the ultrasound. Hold on," I say as I head to the counter to grab the pictures from my bag.

I pull out the strip of photos, and when I turn back, I see Matt standing up and stretching. He takes off his sweatshirt and his shirt riding up slightly, exposing a sliver of his stomach. Heat rises to my face but I can't stare too long though because he's walking towards me to look over my shoulder.

"Okay, what am I lookin' at?" He stands behind me, his hands on his hips as his head tilts in concentration.

"You see this black circle here?" I point to the sonogram, and he leans in closer, his breath warm against my neck as he grabs hold of the paper to steady it.

"Yeah, that's it?" He asks, narrowing his eyes and I giggle.

"No, do you see the tinier white blob inside it? That's the baby." I explain and his face scrunches for a second, looking at the picture again.

"No fucking way," he says in disbelief, a wide smile breaking across his face. "That tiny thing?" His voice raises a pitch as he looks at me, eyes wide with awe, "Can barely fucking see that," He says playfully before rubbing his eyes.

"Mhm," I can't help but giggle as he wraps an arm around me, pulling me in and placing a kiss to my temple. "Just wait til you hear it, the heartbeat was insane. It was so fast," I add and he freezes.

The realization in his face settles in even deeper as I tell him that, his soft smile returning.

"You heard the heartbeat?" He whispers, looking between my eyes and I nod.

"Yeah, yesterday. They emailed me the video of it, I'll show you in a bit if you want," I tell him and he kisses me then like he can't help himself.

"That's fucking nuts... do you feel pregnant?" he asks, his voice curious and his eyes slowly lowering to my stomach peaking out of my tank top.

I shake my head, "Not at all. I just feel like shit... and constantly bloated," I admit, laughing softly.

He lightly chuckles himself, a charmed smile on his face as he reaches to rubs my stomach a couple times.

"We're really gonna have to lock in, kid." He moves around me to pull me into a full hug, pressing our stomachs together.

"Okay, gamer...acting like this is a video game," I scoff teasingly and he bends down, laughing into my neck.

"Well, what else do you want me to say? We're leveling up in life–" he continues the joke and I jab his side with my finger.

"Ow," he fake-cries, clutching his side with exaggerated pain before breaking into a fit of giggles.

"Stop saying corny shit, you goof," I warn, though his laughter makes it impossible not to smile.

I bury my face in his chest, my ear pressed against his heart as we settle into a comfortable silence.

"Now we really gotta get our own place," He says and I can hear his smirk.

"I don't know…" I shrug slightly, considering. "Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to stick around for a bit. It might be nice to have the extra help before we go completely on our own."

He pulls back slightly to look at me, tilting his head with an inquisitive expression. "You really think my brothers will be any help? They don’t know anything about babies."

I snort. “Probably not, but neither do we." I reason and his mouth shrugs in defeat.

"Good point... I guess we can wait it out, we're not in a rush. It'll definitely give us more time to research where would want to be somewhat permanently," He points out.

I hum into him and try not stress about that. The reality is we'd be putting ourselves in a tough spot—both our families are here on the East Coast, but our jobs and lives are rooted in LA.

It's easy to go back and forth when it was just us, but now we're gonna have a kid.

"I already hear your mind racing," his voice breaks me out of my thoughts as he rubs my back. "Don't worry, we'll figure it out..." he says softly, and I sigh deeply.

My stomach turns when I get a whiff of the food still laid out on the table.

"Matt," I say, pulling back slowly, holding my stomach.

"Mm?" he hums, looking at me with concern as I put my hand over my mouth.

"The smell of those burgers is making me sick now," I try not to laugh, and he shakes his head, immediately tossing all the trash into the large paper bag it came in.

"Alright, where's the incinerator?"

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #the sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo x reader #dad!matt #sturniolohouse

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the-thing-inside-your-closet · 3 months ago

Text

Who Started The Fire?

From the prompts list:

“That’s my emotional support entity of questionable moral standing.”

Batman stared down the two teens standing before him. The boy was pointedly looking anywhere but the Bat’s face, finding more interest in the dirt and gravel crunching under his shoes. Meanwhile, the girl stood with her arms crossed, head held high, meeting Batman’s gaze with a defiant glare that wouldn’t be out of place on any of his own children’s faces.

Behind them lay the smoking remains of what was once a warehouse that had been used as a front for a weapons smuggling operation that the bats had collectively spent the past few weeks investigating. Although their investigation had taken longer than anticipated thanks to this group’s rather impressive security, they had been so close to a breakthrough…when the place had gone up in an inferno.

When the Gotham vigilantes had first arrived on the scene the fire had been so intense that they’d had to put in their gas masks to avoid any inhaling any of the thick black smoke from not only the fire, but also whatever chemicals may have potentially been within the building that would have been released into the air.

Batman’s initial hypothesis had been that the group had become aware of their investigation and burned the place to avoid any evidence being discovered while they moved locations. However, that theory had been shelved when Red Hood had announced the presence of charred bodies amongst the rubble, and evidence of explosives having been used in multiple area where the building’s structure had been the weakest. Whoever had been inside had not had any warning of the blaze that had swallowed the building too fast for them to get to safety, and with the structure being compromised from the explosions all exists had been blocked, preventing the inhabitant’s escape. Red Hood and Nightwing had been discussing potential suspects as Batman and Red Robin searched for any evidence that could have survived the destruction, when a clattering sound followed by the sound of voices hushing each other had altered all of the on scene bats to the presence of possibly several unknowns.

The two teens had been apprehended quickly and ushered to the side, far enough away from the scene of the fire to avoid them overhearing details of the investigation and to prevent any potential tampering. Accidental or otherwise. The teens had been stubborn in their refusal to answer any of the bat’s questions to their presence. Nobody knew why they were there, where they had come from, and they had even refused to disclose their names. Oracle, unfortunately, was sick with the flu and had been gently ordered to rest by Agent A. Batman was nevertheless confident that they would be able to discover their identities quickly either once they had returned to the cave or if they could get the kids to talk.

He would have asked Red Hood to speak with the teens, he was the best with kids. And if caught up in anything illegal they often seemed to respond better to him due to his more ambiguous morals and reputation for ensuring kid’s safety. Both from rouges and in some cases, the rest of the bats and birds. But he had been needed in Crime Ally after he had been alerted to a gunfight breaking out between two gangs who had been more hostile and antagonistic in recent months. Nightwing had accompanied him, and Spoiler had diverted from her patrol route to assist. That left Batman and Red Robin behind to deal with both the police and the frustratingly stubborn teens.

Batman resisted the urge to punch the bridge of his nose as yet another question was blatantly ignored by both kids. The boy had begun fiddling with the sleeved of his letterman jacket and the girl had taken to checking her manicured nails for any dirt or imperfections.

Just as he was about to turn the questioning over to one of the on scene police officers, a writhing mass of shadow had emerged from the girl’s shadow. Two tendrils of black smoke reached out to wrap themselves around the wrists and hands of both teens, who had in turn glanced down at their hands and smiled.

“We’re fine,” the boy had muttered quietly, “no need to worry.”

“What is that?” Batman asked, eyeing the mass with a cautious suspicion. He wanted to believe it wasn’t hostile given the kids reactions to it. But this was Gotham.

The girl shot him another glare, one hand on her hip while the other remained in the hold of whatever the shadowy mass was.

“That sir,” she spat out the first word with such venom to her tone that Batman almost flinched, “is our emotional support entity of questionable moral standing.”

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mephisto-reporting · 2 months ago

Text

A Tender Respite

About: He needs to be cared for and you are more than willing to take care of him. But how would he react to it? Pairing: Reader x Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus (Seperate) Note: Reader and the men are not in a relationship. But there is an implied mutual attraction between them My inbox is open for prompts and requests :) Content warning: mentions of injuries, blood, illnesses.

ZAYNE

As you walked with Zayne through the dimly lit garage, the air was thick with a mix of hospital antiseptic and the warmth of a long-awaited checkup. His calm demeanor had always been a source of comfort. Today, however, that tranquility shattered as a wanderer materialized from a swirling metaflux, its presence disorienting and threatening.

In a split second, Zayne pushed you aside, his body taking the brunt of the impact as he shielded a family of children who had wandered too close. You quickly jumped into the fight, disposing of the wanderer, as a skilled hunter would. The sound of a scuffle echoed in the enclosed space, followed by the sharp hiss of energy. You barely registered the chaos before everything fell silent.

When you finally gathered your bearings, Zayne was on the floor, grimacing in pain, cuts and bruises marring his skin. A deep gash ran across his forearm, blood trickling down and pooling at his wrist, and a bruise blossomed near his temple, dark and angry. Panic surged through you as you rushed to his side.

“Zayne! We need to get you to the hospital!” you urged, as you examined his injuries.

“No!” he replied, his voice steady despite the evident pain etched across his features. “Just… take me home. I can handle this.”

You shook your head, stubbornness flaring. “You’re not fine, Zayne. You need medical attention.”

“I’m not going back to that hospital!” he replied, equally stubborn but barely hiding the pain. With no other option, you helped him into your vehicle, his breathing labored as you drove him to his apartment.

When you finally pulled up, you helped him inside, gently guiding him to the couch. “Just sit,” you insisted, searching for his first aid kit. He attempted to protest, but you were already rummaging through the drawers, refusing to let him downplay his injuries.

“Really, it’s nothing—” he started, but you shot him a look that made him falter.

“Zayne, you’re a doctor. You know better than anyone that you need to take care of yourself.”

With a resigned nod, he settled back against the cushions, watching as you gathered supplies. You meticulously cleaned his wounds, your fingers trembling slightly as you worked. The antiseptic stung, and he winced slightly, but your focus didn’t waver. You had to take his shirt off to clean and disinfect wounds on his arm. He winced as you cleaned the gash on his forehead, your hands brushing against his skin, and he caught your gaze. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—a longing, a softness that sent your heart racing. You quickly looked away, focusing on the task at hand.

“Just a little more to the left,” he instructed, his voice low and steady, though there was a tension lingering in the air. As you followed his instructions, you caught the way his gaze softened, an intensity in his expression that made your heart race.

“See? Not so bad, right?” you said, attempting to lighten the mood. Zayne chuckled softly, but the sound held a deeper resonance.

“You’re going to need to take a couple of days off work. No arguments.” you added, trying to keep your voice steady.

Zayne chuckled softly, despite the pain. “You’re rather stubborn, you know…” he teased, but there was warmth in his tone that made your cheeks heat.

“I’m just looking out for you,” you said, applying a fresh bandage. “Besides, you saved those kids. You deserve a break.”

As you finished, he reached out, his fingers gently brushing your wrist. “Thank you,” he said, his voice soft and earnest. “I don’t need you to care for me especially after an exhausting day as a hunter.”

“You do,” you insisted, your heart fluttering as you looked into his eyes. “More than you know.”

After you wrapped up his injuries, you insisted on making him food. He watched you from the couch, a quiet admiration in his gaze. You filled a kettle with water and set it on the stove for tea, stealing glances at him over your shoulder. Each time your eyes met, the air thickened with unspoken tension, a longing that danced just out of reach.

“Are you hungry?” you asked, stirring a pot of soup.

“Just… being here is enough,” he replied, a hint of vulnerability in his voice. “But if you insist, I’d love some of your famous soup.”

As you set a steaming bowl in front of him, you poured tea and placed the painkillers beside it. “Here. You need to take these,” you said, watching as he took a sip of the tea, a hint of relief washing over his features.

“Thank you, for taking care of me... I feel bad that you have to...”

Before he could finish, you interrupted, your mind racing in blissful ignorance of his unspoken confession. “It’s just what friends do, Zayne.” you said with a bright smile, unaware of the way his gaze softened even further. “Plus, you have always been there for me, caring for me in ways more than one. ”

As he ate, you settled next to him on the couch, the warmth of his presence wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. You chatted easily, but the undercurrent of tension lingered. Zayne’s hand brushed against yours, and the contact sent a shiver down your spine. “You’re not just my friend,” he said quietly, looking at you as if weighing his words carefully. The moment hung heavy, the air thick with words left unspoken. Instead, he took a sip of tea, his gaze softening even further. “I lo- ahem….appreciate you. More than you know.”

You smiled, oblivious to the confession that nearly slipped from his lips. “Just focus on healing. I’ll be here for you.” you assured, stealing another glance at his injuries. “Just promise me you’ll rest and take care of yourself, for me.”

“For you…I will promise anything you want me to.”

XAVIER

The night air hung thick with tension as you and Xavier maneuvered through the dimly lit streets, the flickering neon lights casting eerie shadows on the cracked pavement. The Hunters Association had assigned you to clear out a particularly troublesome area infested with Wanderers. As always, Xavier maintained his calm demeanor, his focus unwavering despite the palpable danger surrounding you.

You fought side by side, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you dispatched the menacing figures that loomed in the darkness. Xavier was a skilled partner, his movements precise and almost graceful, but during the fray, one particularly nasty Wanderer caught him off guard. You saw it in an instant—a swift strike that sent him stumbling back, a look of mild surprise gracing his otherwise stoic face.

“Xavier!” you shouted, but the battle was frenetic, and you couldn’t spare a moment to check on him. You pushed forward, a surge of determination fueling your every action until the last Wanderer fell, the night finally falling silent.

As you made your way back to the apartment complex you both called home, a creeping worry gnawed at your insides. You had fought fiercely, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

It wasn’t until you stepped into the elevator that you noticed it—a faint stain blooming on the sleeve of Xavier's shirt, dark against the fabric. “Xavier, you are hurt!” you asked, your voice laced with concern as you stepped closer.

He looked down, his neutral expression barely shifting as he shrugged. “It’s nothing,” he replied, but the faintness in his voice told another story. The elevator chimed, and you instinctively reached for his arm, tugging him towards your apartment.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” you insisted, not waiting for his reluctant agreement. He followed, fatigue evident in his steps, but you could tell he was trying to hide the pain.

Once inside, you guided him to the small bathroom, your heart pounding in your chest. “You need to sit down,” you said, gently urging him onto the edge of the bathtub. As you assessed his injuries, the sight made your stomach turn—a jagged cut on his forearm, bruises beginning to darken beneath his skin, and a small gash on his side that was still oozing blood.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” you scolded gently, though your voice trembled with worry. He offered a sleepy smile, an endearing expression that made your heart flutter.

“Didn’t want to worry you,” he murmured, his tone a mix of sincerity and drowsiness.

You shook your head, grabbing the first aid kit and working quickly to clean his wounds. As you dabbed antiseptic on the cut, he flinched slightly, but his gaze remained locked on you, a warmth radiating from his usually neutral expression. The air was thick with tension, the proximity drawing you closer together as you worked. The way he looked at you, with that soft heat in his eyes, made your breath catch.

“Xavier…” you began, but he interrupted, his voice low and slightly slurred.

“You’re too kind,” he mumbled, leaning slightly into your touch as you bandaged his arm. “I—”

“Just stay still and rest.” you urged, focused on the task. “I’ll feel better knowing you’re patched up.”

His eyes fluttered, and he leaned back against the cool tile, clearly exhausted. “You make it hard to rest when you’re so close…” he murmured, the hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“Maybe you should stop being so dramatic,” you teased lightly, though your heart raced at his words. “You’re just tired.”

“Not dramatic… just…” He closed his eyes for a moment, his breathing evening out. “You make everything better.”

You felt your cheeks heat at the confession, but he was already drifting, his head dipping as he struggled to stay awake. “Xavier,” you nudged gently, concern lacing your voice. “You need to stay with me.”

He blinked, struggling against the pull of sleep. “I know… just want to be here… with you,” he mumbled, words slurring together.

You bit your lip, a mix of emotions swelling in your chest. “You can rest on my bed,” you suggested, already guiding him gently towards the bedroom. Xavier’s expression shifted slightly as he let you guide him. He didn’t argue, too exhausted to resist, and he settled onto the bed, his body sinking into the soft comfort. He looked so pale and vulnerable, and your heart ached at the sight. You took a moment to admire him—his features relaxed, the way his hair fell slightly over his eyes, giving him an almost ethereal look.

“Stay with me,” he said sleepily, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“Of course,” you replied softly, sitting on the edge of the bed, the tension crackling in the air between you. “I’ll be right here.”

As he closed his eyes, a soft smile graced his lips, and you couldn’t help but reach out, brushing a lock of hair away from his face. “You really need to take better care of yourself, Xavier,” you chided gently, your fingers lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.

“Mmm… you take care of me,” he mumbled, his breath evening out. “I’m grateful… more than you know…”

His voice trailed off, and you watched as he succumbed to sleep, the softness of his expression stealing your breath. You couldn’t shake the feeling that he was on the brink of confessing something deeper, but as you leaned back, your heart swelled with warmth and affection for the boy who had captured your attention.

Xavier stirred slightly, his eyes fluttering open for a moment. “You’re still here,” he said, his voice a low rasp, filled with sleepiness and an undercurrent of something deeper.

“Of course,” you replied softly, a smile playing on your lips. “I wouldn’t leave you alone like this.”

“Good... I like it when you’re here,” he mumbled, his words heavy with the weight of his drowsiness, as he settled back into the pillows, the corners of his mouth lifting just slightly.

“Just get some sleep, Xavier,” you said, brushing your fingers along his arm in a comforting gesture. “You need it.”

“Thank you. ”

“I’ll always be here for you, Xavier. ”

SYLUS

The N109 Zone was bustling with its usual chaos, but something felt off today. You had been out on a mission with Sylus, but he wasn’t himself. His usual commanding presence had faded, replaced by a weariness that settled deep in his bones. The usual gleam in his eyes was dulled, and his voice came out raspy, each word struggling to find its way through a thick fog of fatigue.

“Sylus,” you began, your concern bubbling up. “What’s going on? You don’t look well.”

He started to respond, his expression twisting into something like annoyance mixed with exhaustion, but before he could say anything, you reached out instinctively, placing a palm against his forehead. Your breath caught as you felt the heat radiating from him. He was burning up. You had seen Sylus heal from injuries in the blink of an eye, his body almost otherworldly in its resilience. You had never considered that he could fall sick.

“Sylus, you’re burning up!” You didn’t wait for his protests. You quickly grabbed his arm and tugged him toward your bike. He stumbled slightly but didn’t resist, a clear sign of how unwell he was feeling.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” he rasped, but there was no fire behind his words. He seemed more like a wounded animal than the powerful figure you were used to.

As you drove toward the Onychinus base, you could feel the tension in the air, thick with concern. Sylus leaned against you, his presence warm and heavy, and you felt a swell of protectiveness surge through you. You parked and guided him inside, taking him straight to his room. He collapsed onto the bed, and you wasted no time in removing his shoes and jacket, revealing the fine fabric of his shirt, clinging slightly to his skin.

“I’ll be right back,” you promised, moving quickly to gather supplies. But as you turned to leave, a sudden force held you back. You looked down to see Sylus using his Evol to grasp your wrist.

“Careful now,” he said, a teasing lilt in his voice despite his fatigue. “If you’ve imprisoned me to the bed, you should at least guard your prisoner.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking your head. “You’re insufferable, Sylus. Just rest!”

“Stay…” His voice was soft, almost as if he was pleading. “Ask Luke and Kieran to get whatever you want to torture me with.”

As you called out to Luke and Kieran for help, you felt your heart racing—not just from worry, but from the strange thrill of being so close to him, sharing this moment of vulnerability. They returned quickly with washcloths, cool water, some medicines, and a light meal. You settled back by his side, ready to care for him.

First, you soaked one of the washcloths in cool water, wringing it out before gently placing it against his forehead. He sighed softly at the touch, a breathy noise that stirred something deep within you. You could see the tension in his shoulders release just a little as you wiped the cool fabric across his skin.

“You’re too soft, you know,” he teased lightly, even as his voice cracked. “Are you sure you’re not just trying to make me your captive forever?”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth creeping up your cheeks betrayed you. “Just hold still, you stubborn man.”

The second washcloth found its way to his neck and chest, gently wiping away the sweat that clung to his skin. His breath hitched at your touch, a mix of softness and teasing glinting in his dull eyes. “If you keep touching me like that, I might get the wrong idea, Sweetie.”

You scolded him, “You’re lucky I’m doing this at all. Just try to relax, would you?”

“You know,” he murmured, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes, “if you wanted to see me without my shirt, you could’ve just asked.”

“Oh, shut it,” you laughed, but your heart raced as you continued to care for him, the intimacy of the moment wrapping around you both like a blanket.

Once you felt you had brought his temperature down a little, you shifted to the light meal. You filled a bowl with soup, bringing a spoonful of it to his lips. “Here, eat this. You need your strength.”

“Quite the hero, aren’t you?” His tone was playful, yet the weariness in his eyes held a vulnerability that made your heart ache. “How am I supposed to recover when my captor is so distracting?”

“Just focus on getting better,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “Or do you need more than just soup to heal?”

He chuckled softly, a sound that was low and inviting. “I could think of a few things…”

You tried to ignore the way your heart raced at his words, quickly serving him the soup. You brought the spoon to his lips again, wiping away a bit that dribbled onto his chin. As your fingers brushed against his lips, he pressed a soft kiss against your fingers, and your breath hitched.

In a brief lull, he leaned closer, his eyes heavy with sleep. “You know, if you keep taking care of me like this, I might start to think you actually care, Kitten…” he murmured, his gaze searching yours.

“I care about you not dying.” you replied, but the playful banter hung thick in the air. Just as he was about to say something more, Mephisto’s cawed from the corner, breaking the spell of the moment.

“Of course, he has to ruin the moment…” Sylus grumbled under his breath. With a frustrated sigh, Sylus fell back against the pillows, exhaustion pulling him under. But he reached out, grasping your hand tightly, as if afraid to let go. His eyes fluttered shut, a soft breath escaping his lips. You could feel his warmth seep into your skin, and your heart raced at the weight of his hand in yours.

“Stay,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper, “you might just be my best guard.”

“Just rest,” you whispered, leaning closer, your heart full of unspoken feelings. “I’ll be right here.”

RAFAYEL

In the dim light of Rafayel's apartment, you stepped inside, immediately greeted by the mess that was his usual chaos—clothes scattered everywhere, art supplies on all over the floor, discarded wrappers from snacks he claimed he’d eat later, and an array of colorful plush toys piled in the corner, remnants of his last obsession with claw machines. You had come over expecting the usual antics, only to be taken aback by the sight of him.

The usually flamboyant and self-assured Rafayel was sprawled out on his couch, looking less like the charming rogue you knew and more like a wounded kitten. His vibrant blue-pink eyes were dimmed, and his usually immaculate hair was a messy halo around his head. Bruises marred his skin, and cuts adorned his arms and torso like unwelcome accessories. He had always been so dramatic about even the smallest of injuries, but this—this was different. He did not even call you or tell you that he was injured.

“Rafayel! What happened?” you exclaimed, rushing to his side.

He attempted a nonchalant shrug, but the wince that crossed his face betrayed him. “Oh, you know… just fought one of those monsters you love,” he said, trying to play it off with a dramatic flair. The corner of his lips quirked upward, but his bravado fell flat under your scrutinizing gaze.

You narrowed your eyes. Only he would be so dramatic about cats.

His smirk widened, but you could see the discomfort hidden behind his playful demeanor. You knew those injuries weren’t from any cat; they spoke of a far more serious confrontation. “Come on, spill it. I know you’re not getting beat up by a bunch of kittens.”

He looked away, feigning interest in the ceiling, and you let out a frustrated sigh. “Alright, if you’re not going to tell me, I’m going to help you anyway.”

Without waiting for his protest, you gathered supplies—a clean cloth, antiseptic, creams, and bandages.

As you began to clean his wounds, the atmosphere shifted. Your fingers grazed his skin gently, applying antiseptic to a particularly nasty cut on his arm. He flinched slightly at the sting, but his expression was one of mock indignation rather than pain. “You’re lucky I tolerate your hovering,” he teased, but his voice held a softness that revealed how much he appreciated your presence. “Careful there,” he quipped, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he watched you work. “That feels almost... intimate.”

“Right, because who else would pamper you like this?” you quipped back, focusing intently on his injuries to hide the warmth creeping into your cheeks.

“I can think of a few—” he began, his tone flirtatious as his blue-pink eyes sparkled with mischief. “But they wouldn’t be as gentle as you.”

You rolled your eyes, focusing on applying the antiseptic. “Oh, please. You’re being dramatic as usual. Just try to stay still, okay?”

“Staying still while you’re this close? That’s asking for a miracle,” he shot back, his voice breathy and playful. You couldn’t help but notice the way his lips curled into a teasing smile as you bandaged his arm.

With each careful swipe, your fingers brushed against his skin, and you could feel his pulse quicken. The air was thick with an unspoken tension, and every moment spent so close felt charged with something you both pretended not to acknowledge. He leaned into your touch, his bravado melting away, replaced by a softness that made your heart flutter.

“Is this necessary? I mean, really? I think I could manage just fine with a little kiss, Miss Bodyguard.” he quipped, a playful grin spreading across his face.

You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress a smile. “Maybe if you were more careful, you wouldn’t need any of this.” You gently pressed a bandage over the cut, and he feigned a pained sigh, leaning into your touch a bit too dramatically.

“Alright, all done. You should really rest now,” you said, glancing around at the chaos that was his living space. “And I’ll handle everything else.”

“Are you sure you can handle all of this?” he asked, his voice suddenly more serious, a hint of vulnerability shining through. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Please, I can handle your drama,” you replied, smirking. “Just try to rest, and I’ll clean this place up too.”

As you turned to gather the supplies, Rafayel pulled you back towards him with surprising strength, his gaze locking onto yours. “Hey… Not yet, don’t move from here…” he murmured, an intensity behind his words that sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “Just make sure I’m really alright. You’ve stirred something within me, you know.”

You felt your cheeks heat as you looked into his eyes, searching for sincerity. There was something about the way he spoke that hinted at more than just friendship. Just as it seemed he might confess, his gaze faltered, and the moment slipped away. “Rafayel... what...”

“Or maybe I just wanted an excuse to keep you here a bit longer from redesigning my place.” he added, a playful smirk returning to his lips as he attempted to deflect the moment with his typical charm.

You huffed, half annoyed and half flustered. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Impossible? More like irreplacable.” he shot back, winking as you turned away to hide your blush.

You sighed, shaking your head as you picked up a few stray items around the room.

“I’ll just... rest my eyes for a moment,” he murmured, his voice trailing off as he finally succumbed to sleep.

The way he had said that stirred something inside you—a mixture of warmth and anticipation. But as you moved to leave, Rafayel’s voice stopped you again.

“Hey,” he said softly, and when you turned back to look at him, his expression was earnest, a flicker of something deeper visible in his eyes. “Promise you’ll be here to check on me later?” You could see the exhaustion tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Of course, I will.”

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated! If anyone wants to be on the taglist for my future stuff, let me know :D

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hoshifighting · 8 months ago

Text

Bodyguard

— Synopsis: During a trip defined by your father, you, in an act of provocation, choose Seungcheol to be your personal bodyguard. — WC: 8.8k — WARNINGS: Smut, reader makes Seungcheol do push ups in front of her, choking, "ma'am calling", squirting, mentions of gun, reader gives Seungcheol lots of filthy hints, pussy eating, fingering, handjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex and etc.

You walk in your high-heeled shoes inside the basement, their echo reverberating through the dimly lit space. As you enter, you're greeted by a straight line of men, all dressed in black suits, their expressions solemn and focused. Their posture straightens as they catch sight of you, a clear indication of respect.

You stop by the side of your Dad, crossing your arms as you survey the group before you. "Sweetheart, those are the recruited soldiers recently," he informs you.

You tilt your head slightly, analyzing the men in front of you, before deciding to approach one. Your eyes land on a particular soldier, his black eyebrows thick and striking. Without hesitation, you walk towards him, your gaze sweeping from his feet to his head.

"What's your name, soldier?" you inquire, your tone firm but not unkind.

The soldier meets your gaze, his expression composed. "Seungcheol, Ma'am," he replies respectfully.

You nod, considering him for a moment before asking for his last name. "Choi, Choi Seungcheol, Ma'am," he responds promptly.

Curiosity piqued, you pressed further. "Have we met before?" you ask, searching his face for any sign of recognition.

The man shakes his head slightly. "No, Ma'am," he replies, his voice steady.

Lie.

You continue your line of questioning, wanting to learn more about this soldier who has caught your attention. "How old are you?" you inquire, noting the maturity in his features despite his youthful appearance.

"28, Ma'am," he answers without hesitation.

You consider him thoughtfully for a moment before nodding, acknowledging his response.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you," you command, your voice firm and authoritative.

He promptly moves his gaze to meet yours, finding your cold expression unwavering.

"Which department were you placed in?" you inquire, your tone sharp and demanding.

"East patrol, Ma'am," he responds promptly, his voice steady despite the intensity of your scrutiny.

Nodding to your Dad, you signal for him to make a readjustment regarding the department of Soldier Choi.

Your Dad, slightly puzzled, asks, "Which department should I put him in, Sweetie?"

You tilt your head slightly, squeezing your eyes as you continue to analyze Soldier Choi. After a moment of consideration, you respond with a decisiveness that catches everyone off guard.

"My private security guard," you declare, your tone leaving no room for argument.

His eyes widen in surprise, and he struggles to suppress the urge to gag. The soldiers standing beside him also try their best to conceal their reactions, but the shock is evident on their faces.

You need to contain the bubbles in your chest, which wants to make you laugh in his face.

You and Seungcheol hated each other.

Everyone at the agency knew about this tea, apparently, only your father didn't know.

You give them a last look, and they bow respectfully before you turn to Soldier Choi. "Meet me in two hours," you command, your voice leaving no room for negotiation. "In the storage room on the fourth floor," you add, glancing at your wristwatch, noting the time.

Soldier Choi nods in acknowledgment, his expression unreadable as he absorbs your instructions.

"With packed suitcases," you continue, your tone leaving no room for questions, "We are going to Japan."

With that final directive, you turn on your heel and stride purposefully out of the basement, leaving behind the line of soldiers and the curious glances that follow you.

You couldn't shake the bitter taste in your mouth as the name Choi Seungcheol echoed in your mind. Years of working with the FBI had honed your instincts for identifying potential threats, and Seungcheol's sudden appearance in your life triggered a flood of memories.

Training years ago had brought you face to face with him, your Dad decided that he wanted you to follow his lineage, two young adults embarking on a journey into the world of espionage. You had formed a light camaraderie with him, feeling a connection that bordered on friendship.

But everything changed when Seungcheol made the fateful decision to follow the path of another spy agency. It felt like a betrayal, a sharp sting that left a lingering bitterness in its wake.

And when he came back to your Dad agency, because the other agency simply rejected the bunch of young men at their door, you couldn't forgive him.

Japan, 8h34 p.m.

You sit back in the plush armchair of the hotel room, arms crossed casually over your chest as you watch Seungcheol sweat it out with a series of push-ups. His muscles flex with each repetition, a testament to his dedication to maintaining his physical prowess.

"Are you tired yet?" you quip, a playful glint in your eyes as you observe his exertion.

Seungcheol pauses briefly to catch his breath, his chest rising and falling with each heavy inhale. "No, ma'am," he responds between breaths, determination etched into his features.

You raise an eyebrow, impressed by his resilience. "Are you going to give up anytime soon?" you tease, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips.

He grits his teeth and resumes his push-ups, a low groan escaping him as he pushes himself to continue. "No, ma'am," he grunts, his voice strained with effort.

You chuckle softly, finding amusement in his unwavering determination. "Well, don't strain yourself too much," you jest, leaning back further into the comfort of the armchair. "Wouldn't want you collapsing from exhaustion before our next mission, now would we?"

Seungcheol shoots you a playful glare, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips despite his physical exertion. "Not a chance, ma'am," he retorts, his resolve unshaken.

As Seungcheol's arms tremble with exhaustion, you can't help but savor the view of his determination. Despite the strain evident in every muscle, he continues to push himself beyond his limits. It surprises you just how strong he still is, a testament to his resilience and unwavering dedication.

"Still going, huh?" you remark, a playful grin tugging at your lips as you watch him struggle through each push-up.

Seungcheol's breaths come out in heavy pants, his movements slowing as fatigue sets in. "Can't... give up..." he manages to groan out between labored breaths.

You chuckle softly, impressed by his tenacity. "Oh, I see," you tease, leaning forward slightly to get a closer look at his struggling form. "I guess I'll have to find someone else to carry me around then."

His response is a strained grunt as he forces himself to push through another repetition. The effort is evident on his face, and you can't help but admire his determination, even as his movements become slower and more difficult.

You can't help but tease him further, enjoying the sight of his struggle. "Oh, come on, Seungcheol," you taunt, feigning sympathy. "You're looking a bit shaky there. Don't tell me you're starting to feel your age."

With great difficulty, Seungcheol manages to retort, his voice strained but determined, "You're...in the same age...as me."

Touché.

Your smile falters for a moment, caught off guard by his response. Despite the playful banter, his words hit home, a reminder of the passage of time and the challenges that come with it.

"Alright, that's enough," you concede, your tone softening as you watch him collapse onto the ground, panting heavily, his arms sore from the exertion.

As you approach him, Seungcheol sits on his knees, catching his breath, his gaze fixed on the ground.

"Choi Seungcheol..." you say slowly, drawing out each syllable as you watch his reaction closely.

He meets your gaze with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity, wondering what you have up your sleeve.

"You thought you could hide from me, didn't you?" you continue, your voice laced with amusement as you lean in closer, your eyes gleaming with mischief.

He shifts uncomfortably under your scrutiny, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features before he schools his expression into one of mock innocence. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Ma'am," he replies smoothly, though there's a hint of tension in his voice.

You chuckle softly, thoroughly enjoying the opportunity to tease him. "Oh, please," you retort, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. "You can't hide from me, Seungcheol. I always find my targets, no matter how hard they try to evade me."

Seungcheol lets out a low groan, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation. "You just love to make my life difficult, don't you?" he quips, in feigned annoyance.

"Wouldn't be much fun otherwise, now would it?" you reply with a grin, leaning back in your seat as you revel in the banter between you.

You grab Seungcheol's chin roughly, forcing him to meet your gaze as you shake his face slightly. "How pretty," you remark, a hint of sarcasm in your tone. "Wanting to work with me again, hmm? I bet you've missed me, haven't you?"

His jaw tenses under your grip, but he maintains his composure, his eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of defiance and apprehension.

Releasing him abruptly, you let him stumble backward slightly before continuing. "Well, since you seem so eager to work with me again," you say, your voice dripping with disdain, "you better act like the good bodyguard they recruited you to be. Or else..."

Seungcheol arches an eyebrow, a silent challenge in his expression as he waits for you to elaborate.

You lean in closer, your voice low and menacing. "Or else," you continue, "the feedback about your image within the FBI will be ruined. You wouldn't want that, now would you?"

A flicker of uncertainty crosses Seungcheol's features at the mention of his reputation being tarnished within the agency. Despite the facade of confidence he wears, you can see the doubt creeping into his eyes as he weighs the consequences of defying you.

With a satisfied smirk, you straighten up, knowing that you've effectively reminded him of the stakes at hand.

"Now come on," you say, your tone lightening as you change the subject, "I'm craving the pasta from the restaurant down the street."

Seungcheol gets up slowly, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features as he adjusts the gun at his hip. He follows you begrudgingly, his expression revealing his dissatisfaction with your little revelation.

You sit across from Seungcheol at the restaurant, the aroma of freshly cooked pasta filling the air. But instead of digging into his meal, he sits with his arms crossed and a bratty expression on his face, his untouched food growing cold in front of him.

You can't help but coo at him teasingly, your voice dripping with mock concern. "What's the matter, Seungcheol? Not hungry?"

He hears you, but refuses to meet your gaze, instead opting to scoff and look away, his stubbornness evident in every line of his body.

You lean forward slightly, your playful demeanor not faltering in the face of his resistance. "Come on," you cajole, reaching across the table to nudge his plate closer to him, "don't be like that. You'll regret it if you let this delicious food go to waste."

But Seungcheol remains unmoved, his bratty facade firmly in place as he continues to sulk in silence. During dinner, you convinced him to eat the meal in front of you, after much insistence.

As you walk in the direction of the elevator, a mischievous glint sparkles in your eyes as you suppress a smile, preparing for the best theater of your life. With a dramatic flair, you pretend to stumble, a hand flying to your forehead as if you're about to faint.

Seungcheol reacts immediately, his reflexes kicking in as he reaches out to steady you, his strong arms wrapping around you to prevent you from falling. You suppress another laugh at his quick response, marveling at the effectiveness of your little performance.

"Oh!" you exclaim, feigning distress. "I suddenly feel terrible. These heels are killing me."

Without missing a beat, he scoops you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style as he heads towards the elevator.

You tease, unable to resist the opportunity to poke fun at Seungcheol's expense. "Wow," you remark with exaggerated admiration, "even after millions of push-ups, you can still carry me around like it's nothing. Oh! Seungcheol, you're so strong."

He lets out a slight blush, rolling his eyes at your playful comment. "If you say one more word," he warns, his tone tinged with mock irritation, "I'm going to let you fall."

You smirk in response, unfazed by his threat. "Sorry, Seungcheol," you retort teasingly, "but it's not you who gives the orders around here."

With a playful twinkle in your eye, you lean back comfortably in his arms, reveling in the banter between the two of you.

After a leisurely soak, you emerge from the bathroom feeling rejuvenated, a soft towel wrapped snugly around your body. With a contented sigh, you begin to apply cream to your arms, the familiar routine calming your mind as you focus on the simple task at hand.

But as you turn towards the bed, you can't help but burst into laughter at the sight that greets you. Seungcheol is sprawled out on his bed, his face buried in the pillow and his back turned to you, seemingly oblivious to your presence.

You shake your head in amusement, unable to resist the urge to tease him. "Looks like someone had a long day," you quip, your laughter bubbling up uncontrollably.

Seungcheol stirs at the sound of your voice, turning his head slightly to glance at you over his shoulder. "Oh, please," he mumbles groggily, his voice muffled by the pillow. "Don't remind me."

Your phone rings suddenly, shattering the peaceful atmosphere of the hotel room. With a quick glance at the caller ID, you see that it's your father on the line. Without hesitation, you answer, a sense of urgency creeping into your voice as you listen to his instructions.

"Dad?" you say, your tone tense with anticipation.

His voice crackles over the line, his words coming in fast and urgent. "I need all the bodyguards down at the hotel right now," he announces, the seriousness of his tone leaving no room for argument.

You end the call, your mind already racing with possibilities as you turn to face Seungcheol, who is still lying on the bed, his face buried in the pillow.

"Well, Seungcheol," you say with a wry smile, "it looks like it's not the best time for you to catch up on your beauty sleep."

He lets out a soft whimper, throwing the pillow away and scrambling to his feet. Rushing to put on his suit.

As Seungcheol opens the door to leave, his hand hovering over the handle, he pauses and turns to you with a commanding tone. "Don't. Leave. The. Bedroom," he orders, his voice firm and authoritative.

You can't help but laugh at his seriousness, a playful glint in your eye as you tease him. "Aren't you forgetting something?" you ask innocently, raising an eyebrow.

He raises his gaze, and his eyes widen as he realizes that you're still standing there in your towel, holding his gun in your hand. With a sigh of exasperation, he closes his eyes briefly, his frustration evident.

"Oh my god, get dressed," he mutters, extending his hand to retrieve the gun from you.

You can't resist teasing him further, a mischievous grin spreading across your face. "What's the matter, Seungcheol?" you tease, waving the gun teasingly. "Afraid of a woman only wearing a towel?"

He grunts in response, his cheeks flushing slightly as he takes the gun from you. "Just... don't leave the room," he repeats, his tone slightly exasperated, before abruptly closing the door behind him.

You had made a split-second decision to disobey Seungcheol's orders and follow your father's soldiers, the urgency of the situation outweighing any concern for staying put. Now, you find yourself in the midst of the action, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you navigate the streets, your senses on high alert.

Spotting Seungcheol in a corner of the alley, you can't resist the opportunity to tease him. Sneaking up behind him, you lean in close to his ear and whisper, "Boo." you murmur teasingly, your breath ghosting over his skin. "Fancy meeting you in a dark alley like this. Are you up to no good again?"

Before he can respond, Seungcheol reacts with lightning-fast reflexes, pushing you against the nearest wall with surprising force. Your arms are pinned behind your back, your face pressed uncomfortably against the rough bricks, as he restrains you with an iron grip.

Wide-eyed, Seungcheol freezes as he realizes his mistake. "Y/N?" he exclaims, his voice laced with disbelief as he spins you around to face him.

In that moment, the realization dawns on him, and his expression morphs into one of sheer horror. He's just smashed the daughter of his boss's face into the bricks, mistaking you for a suspect in the chaos of the moment.

Seungcheol turns you around, his expression a mixture of relief and frustration as he finds you with a sly smile on your face. Before he can say anything, you tease him, your words dripping with mischief.

"If you can handle me that roughly, too-" you quip, your voice muffled by his hand as he clamps it over your mouth, cutting off your words.

"Shut up," he hisses, his tone urgent as he scans the alley for any signs of danger. "What are you doing here?"

You remove his hand from your mouth with a playful smirk, unable to resist teasing him even in the midst of the tense situation. "Oh, just thought I'd see if you could handle a little rough handling," you quip, a mischievous twinkle in your eye.

Seungcheol rolls his eyes, his patience wearing thin as he struggles to keep his composure. "This is no time for jokes, Y/N," he scolds, his voice tight with exasperation. "You could have gotten hurt."

Seungcheol's frustration is palpable as he glares at you, his voice tinged with annoyance. "I told you to stay in your damn room," he says through gritted teeth, his eyes scanning the alley for any signs of danger.

You can't help but laugh at his exasperation, finding amusement in his frustration despite the seriousness of the situation. With a teasing glint in your eye, you retort playfully, "Oops, looks like I missed the memo. But where's the fun in following orders, Seungcheol?"

His jaw clenches in frustration at your nonchalant attitude, but there's a flicker of amusement in his eyes as well. Despite his annoyance, he can't help but appreciate your daring spirit and the playful banter between the two of you.

"Stubborn as ever," he mutters under his breath, though there's a hint of fondness in his tone as he shakes his head at your antics. "Just… stay close."

You cross your arms, watching as Seungcheol patrols the area with a vigilant eye. The tension in the air is palpable as you wait for any sign of trouble, knowing that the safety of your father's operation depends on the diligence of every member of the team.

As your dad's voice crackles over the radio, announcing the end of the patrol, Seungcheol holsters his gun at his hips once again. He turns to you with a stern expression, his eyes narrowed in admonition.

"Come on," he says briskly, gesturing for you to follow him. "You could've gotten me into some serious trouble if your dad found out you weren't in bed."

As you walk back towards the hotel with Seungcheol, you can't resist teasing him about the earlier incident in the alley.

"If my dad finds out you manhandled me in that alley," you retort with a smirk, "you'll be in some serious trouble."

Seungcheol turns around, his expression a mix of annoyance and concern as he quickly shushes you. "Sorry, okay?" he says, his voice hushed but earnest. "I thought you were a suspect."

You can't help but chuckle at his apology, enjoying the way he squirms under your playful teasing. "Oh, I'm sure you did," you reply, a mischievous glint in your eye. "But you know, Seungcheol, I kind of like it when things start to get rough. Are you this rough in bed too?"

Seungcheol's eyes widen in shock at your bold remark, his cheeks flushing slightly as he turns around abruptly, continuing to walk towards the hotel without another word, his eyes darting around to make sure no one overhears.

[...]

The next day, Seungcheol's sole function seemed to revolve around being around you, and you found yourself enjoying his presence more than you anticipated.

While the other bodyguards were out on a mission, Seungcheol had taken it upon himself to ensure your day was filled with activities. You had gone for a refreshing run in the park in the morning, followed by a leisurely shopping excursion in the afternoon.

Now, as you laid in the hotel bedroom, meticulously painting your nails, Seungcheol observed you with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. He rolled his eyes as you swung your feet back and forth while focusing on your manicure.

"Oh, come on, Seungcheol," you cooed teasingly, glancing up at him with a playful grin. "You'd rather be in the midst of a mission, fighting off bad guys, than having a relaxing day with me? I saved you from an exhausting day out there!"

Seungcheol sighed, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite his efforts to appear unaffected by your teasing. "I never said I preferred being in the middle of a fight," he admitted, his tone teasing yet genuine. "But sometimes your idea of a 'relaxing day' is a little... unconventional."

"Oh, right, because fighting with guns and shit is way more cool," you quip, your focus still on your nails as you glance at Seungcheol with a playful smirk.

Seungcheol lets out a chuckle at your remark, unable to hide the amusement in his eyes. "Well, I can't argue with that," he replies, his tone light and teasing. "But there's something to be said about the thrill of a good Yves Saint-Laurent high heels.."

You roll your eyes playfully at his response, shaking your head as you continue painting your nails. "I'll take a relaxing day over dodging bullets any time," you retort with a grin, enjoying the banter between you.

Seungcheol lets out a scoff at your comment, but his expression softens as he watches your hair fall loose from your bun, knowing it's bothering you as you try to focus on your manicure.

Without hesitation, he gets up from his seat and moves behind you, his hands deftly gathering your hair into a ponytail. You can feel the warmth of his touch as he gently ties it back, securing it in place with practiced ease.

"Thanks," you murmur, grateful for his assistance as you return your attention to your nails.

Seungcheol chuckles softly, his fingers lingering for a moment longer before he steps back, his task complete. "There you go," he says with a smirk, his tone light and teasing. "Now you can finish your masterpiece without any distractions."

You grin at his playful remark, unable to resist teasing him in return. "Who knew my personal bodyguard was also a hairstylist?" you quip, your tone filled with mock surprise. "Maybe I should start charging extra for your services."

Seungcheol rolls his eyes at your teasing, but there's a hint of amusement in his gaze as he settles back into his seat. Despite the lighthearted banter, you can't help but appreciate his thoughtfulness and willingness to lend a helping hand, even in the most unexpected of situations.

After finishing your manicure, you eagerly show your hands to Seungcheol, a playful grin on your face as you ask for his opinion.

"What do you think?" you inquire, wiggling your fingers for emphasis.

Seungcheol inspects your nails with a critical eye before shrugging nonchalantly. "I don't like red," he remarks casually.

You can't help but raise an eyebrow in disbelief. "What?!" you exclaim, mock indignation coloring your tone. "But I distinctly remember you saying red was your favorite color!"

The smile that Seungcheol had been suppressing finally breaks free, transforming into a hearty laugh at your feigned outrage. "Alright, alright," he concedes between chuckles. "I guess I'll make an exception for your nails."

"You should," you retort with a playful glint in your eye, enjoying the banter.

Seungcheol raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Oh, so my opinion is important now?" he teases, his tone laced with amusement.

You nod, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips. "Yes, it is," you reply, your voice tinged with mock seriousness. "Because these red nails are going to be on your back tonight."

His eyes widen in surprise at your bold declaration, and you can see the shift in his posture as he processes your words. "Uh..." he stammers, his cheeks flushing slightly as he clears his throat. "Maybe we should stick to talking about nail polish and colors-"

You shoot Seungcheol a playful smirk, enjoying the way his cheeks still hold a hint of color from your earlier comment. "Not feeling so bold anymore, huh?" you tease, nudging him gently with your elbow.

Seungcheol rolls his eyes good-naturedly, but there's a spark of amusement in his gaze as he meets your playful challenge. "Hey, I can be bold when I need to be," he retorts with a grin, his confidence returning as he meets your gaze head-on.

You chuckle at his response, appreciating the way he's able to bounce back from your teasing with equal parts wit and charm. "Oh, I have no doubt about that," you reply, unable to hide the fondness in your tone.

You watch as Seungcheol leans in closer, his expression curious as he questions your sudden change in behavior. Tilting your head in confusion, you furrow your brow as you meet his gaze.

"Why did you suddenly choose me to be your bodyguard?" he asks, his tone laced with genuine curiosity. "You used to hate me, and now you're even flirting with me."

You can't help but laugh at his incredulous tone, finding amusement in his confusion. "Isn't it funny how things change?" you reply with a playful grin. "Besides, it's quite entertaining having you do everything I ask."

Seungcheol scoffs at your response, clearly still puzzled by your sudden shift in attitude. "Flirting with me doesn't make any sense," he insists, his voice tinged with disbelief.

You simply shrug your shoulders nonchalantly, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Oh, I don't know," you reply casually. "Angry sex is way better when you're doing it with someone you hate."

You glance at him through your lashes, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips as you watch his reaction. Seungcheol's mouth goes dry, and you can see him squirming uncomfortably in his seat, clearly taken aback by your boldness.

"Cat got your tongue?" you tease, leaning in closer to him.

Seungcheol shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his expression torn between desire and restraint. "We can't do that," he finally manages to say, his voice strained as he wrestles with his own demons.

You bite your lip, unable to resist the urge to push him further. "And why is that?" you press, your voice low and seductive.

Seungcheol hesitates, his gaze flickering between you and the floor as he struggles to find the right words. "It's unprofessional," he finally murmurs, his tone tinged with regret.

You can't help but chuckle at his response, finding amusement in his attempt to maintain his composure. "Oh, come on, Seungcheol," you tease, reaching out to brush your fingers against his cheek.

His eyes darken at your touch, and you can see the internal battle raging within him. "This isn't the time or place," he insists, his voice strained.

You bite your lip, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you lean in closer to him. "But if it wasn't because of that," you murmur softly, your breath ghosting over his lips, "would you fuck me?"

Seungcheol inhales sharply at your bold question, his resolve crumbling in the face of your undeniable allure. For a moment, he's silent, his eyes locked with yours in a silent exchange of longing and desire.

So he abruptly gets up and heads to the bathroom, you watch him go with a mixture of amusement and satisfaction. Leaning back on the bed, a small smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you revel in the realization that Seungcheol isn't entirely immune to your charms.

Finally allowing yourself to relax, you let out a soft sigh, feeling a sense of victory wash over you. Despite his attempts to maintain a professional demeanor, you can't help but notice the way he reacted to your teasing, the flicker of desire in his eyes betraying his attempts to resist your allure.

[...]

As Seungcheol stirred from his sleep, a sense of concern gnawed at him, prompting him to glance over at your bed. He looked once, relieved to see you there, but when he looked again, you were gone. Panic surged through him as he quickly scanned the room, his heart racing as he realized you were nowhere to be found.

With a curse under his breath, Seungcheol threw off the covers and sprung out of bed, his mind racing with worry. He searched every corner of the bedroom, his movements frantic as he called out your name in a hushed voice, hoping against hope that you would respond.

But there was no sign of you, and Seungcheol's frustration boiled over as he cursed under his breath, the weight of responsibility pressing down on him like a lead weight. "Damn it," he muttered, running a hand through his hair in agitation. "This girl always manages to get me into trouble."

As you made your way to the rooftop pool, a mischievous grin played on your lips. You weren't actually in need of a breather; rather, you saw it as the perfect opportunity to play a little game with Seungcheol, to remind him of the importance of staying vigilant in his role as your bodyguard.

Settling into a lounge chair by the pool, you couldn't help but chuckle to yourself as you imagined the look on Seungcheol's face when he realized you were nowhere to be found in the room. It was all in good fun, after all, and you were certain he would appreciate the lesson in staying alert.

Suddenly, you felt hands wrap around your waist, and you were swiftly turned around to face Seungcheol, who looked both relieved and exasperated. "Are you crazy?" he exclaimed, his voice edged with frustration as he took in the rooftop's empty expanse, save for the two of you.

You couldn't help but maintain your composed demeanor, a smirk dancing on your lips as you met his gaze. "Seems like you found me," you remarked casually, teasingly raising an eyebrow in amusement.

Seungcheol's frustration boiled over at your nonchalant response, and you could practically see the steam coming out of his ears. "You think this is funny?" he demanded, his voice tinged with irritation as he struggled to maintain his composure.

Seungcheol's frustration was palpable as he confronted you, his voice edged with exasperation. "You could have chosen anyone, why me?" he demanded, his tone tinged with a hint of desperation. "You're so hard to handle! Did you know that?"

You couldn't help but chuckle at his words, finding amusement in his exasperated state. Sliding your hand across his cheek in a teasing gesture, you met his gaze with a playful glint in your eye.

"Why not you?" you countered with a smirk, your tone teasing as you brushed off his question. "After all, who else would be able to handle someone as difficult as me?"

Seungcheol's reaction was immediate, brushing your hand away with abruptness as if your touch had burned him. His frustration boiled over as he demanded to know what game you were playing, his voice tinged with a mix of irritation and confusion.

His eyes blazed with rage as he leaned in closer, his frustration evident in every line of his face. "What the fuck do you want from me?" he demanded, his voice laced with anger as he searched your face for answers.

You met his gaze head-on, your expression unreadable as you replied calmly, "I just needed some fun."

His eyes narrowed even further, his frustration boiling over as he leaned closer to you. "Your idea of fun is putting my serious job at risk," he spat out, his voice trembling with pent-up rage. "And let me tell you, it's not fucking fun for me."

Undeterred by his anger, you leaned in even closer, a teasing smirk playing on your lips. "You mad?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you egged him on.

Seungcheol wraps his hand around your neck, his hand pressing you against the border of the building, his rage palpable in every movement. "Listen to me," he growled, his voice low and menacing as he struggled to maintain his composure. "You need to start taking this seriously. You're not just playing games with me—you're putting yourself in danger."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." he replied sharply. "Because if everything goes wrong, you're still going to be the boss's daughter, and I'm going to be dead."

Your expression darkened at his words, a frown forming on your lips as you felt his hand tightening around your neck. Despite the seriousness of the conversation, you couldn't help but feel a thrill at the intensity of his grip, the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

But instead of backing down, you met his gaze with defiance, refusing to let him intimidate you. "I wouldn't let them do that to you," you declared boldly, your voice tinged with determination.

"I wouldn't let them touch you," you continued, your voice low and husky, each word dripping with determination. "Not before I—" you paused, the sensation of Seungcheol's body pressed against yours and his hand tightening around your neck sending shivers down your spine. "—not before I fuck you," you finally breathed, your voice barely above a whisper as you leaned in closer to him, your lips brushing against his ear.

A sudden moan escaped your lips as the intensity of the moment overwhelmed you, the rush of adrenaline heightening your senses and fueling the fire that burned between you and Seungcheol.

He widened his eyes in surprise at your unexpected reaction, clearly taken aback by your excitement in the midst of the tense situation. "What—" he began, his voice trailing off as he struggled to comprehend your response.

You smirked, a wicked gleam in your eye as you leaned back slightly, your gaze locking with his as you reveled in the raw intensity of the moment. "What, you didn't expect me to enjoy this?" you teased, your voice dripping with amusement as you watched his expression darken with desire.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, you couldn't help but feel a surge of arousal coursing through you, the electric tension between you and Seungcheol igniting a primal urge that refused to be ignored.

Seungcheol's eyes bore into yours, a mixture of surprise and desire flickering in their depths as he struggled to process your bold declaration. "You... you're serious?" he asked, his voice hoarse with disbelief.

You couldn't help but chuckle at his reaction, finding amusement in his stunned expression. "Dead serious," you replied, your voice laced with a hint of mischief as you leaned in closer, the heat of his body radiating against your skin.

A smirk tugged at the corners of Seungcheol's lips as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "Then what are you waiting for?"

As you and Seungcheol moved with urgency and desire, your kiss deepening with each step, the tension between you reached its peak. From the rooftop to the hotel hallways, the elevator serving as a brief respite before you continued your passionate embrace, the heat between you only intensified.

Finally, as you reached the hotel room, Seungcheol threw you onto the bed, a surge of adrenaline coursed through your veins, your heart racing with excitement as you met his hungry gaze. With a playful smirk, you propped yourself up on your elbows, reveling in the desire that burned in his eyes.

But as his gaze traveled over your figure, lingering on the delicate camisole that barely covered your curves, a flicker of disapproval crossed his face. "You walked around the hotel like this?" he muttered.

You couldn't help but chuckle at his reaction, the heat of his gaze sending shivers down your spine as you teased, "Don't like it? Then take it off."

The challenge in your words was unmistakable, and you watched with anticipation as Seungcheol's desire flared, his hands moving to grasp the sides of the camisole. With a swift motion, he ripped the delicate fabric down the middle, exposing your bare breasts and lacy panties to his hungry gaze.

You gasped at the suddenness of his action, a thrill coursing through you at the raw desire burning in his eyes. "Seungcheol," you moaned, your voice husky.

As Seungcheol's lips trailed along your neck, leaving a trail of fiery kisses, bites, and licks in their wake, you couldn't help but squirm beneath him, your body responding eagerly to his touch. His fingers toyed with your nipples, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body, making you moan with delight.

"It's so difficult to hold myself back around you," he confessed, his voice husky with desire as he continued to lavish attention on your sensitive skin.

Your breath hitched at his admission, a surge of arousal coursing through you at the raw honesty in his words. Feeling your arousal pooling between your legs, you moaned softly, unable to contain the overwhelming sensations that consumed you.

Unable to resist any longer, you whispered, "Finally, you admitted it,"

Seungcheol's lips curled into a smirk as he felt your body respond to his touch, reveling in the intoxicating mix of desire and arousal that filled the room. "Oh, so you were waiting for me to admit it, huh?" he teased, his voice laced with amusement as he continued to explore every inch of your skin with his lips and hands. "Well, now that I've admitted it, what do you plan to do about it?"

With a smirk of your own, you whispered, "I plan to make sure you don't hold back anymore," your voice dripping with desire as you pulled him closer.

As Seungcheol's hand ventured lower, his fingers slipping beneath the delicate fabric of your lacy panties, you couldn't help but inhale sharply, your breath catching in your throat at the sudden contact. A surge of electricity shot through you as his fingers made contact with your slick folds, the sensation causing you to jolt in pleasure.

He chuckled softly at your reaction, his lips pressing gentle pecks along your jawline as he continued to explore your arousal. His eyes locked with yours, a mischievous glint dancing in their depths as he teased you with his touch.

With a deliberate slowness, he slid his fingers deeper, exploring the wet heat between your thighs. As his digits entered you, you couldn't suppress the loud moan that escaped your lips, your mouth falling open in ecstasy as pleasure surged through your body.

As Seungcheol's fingers pumped in and out of you, you found yourself overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensations coursing through your body. The sound of your wetness mingled with the filthy sounds of his fingers plunging into you, filling the air with the heady scent of arousal.

With your vision blurred by pleasure, your hands fumbled with the buttons of Seungcheol's shirt, the fabric suddenly feeling suffocating against your skin. You needed him closer, his bare chest pressed against yours as his fingers plugged deeper in your cunt.

As you struggled to undo the buttons, your fingers clumsy with desire, you let out a shaky moan, the sound a symphony of your arousal filling the room. "Seungcheol," you gasped, your voice thick with need as you tugged at his shirt, desperate for him to be as exposed and vulnerable as you were in that moment.

A shaky moan escaped your lips as Seungcheol's fingers found your sweet spot, sending shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through you. Your body trembled under his touch, the pleasure building to dizzying heights as you tugged at his shirt, desperate to feel the heat of his skin against yours.

Seungcheol's lips curled into a smirk as he watched you struggle with the buttons of his shirt, the desire burning in his eyes mirroring your own. "Having a little trouble there, sweetheart?" he teased, his voice dripping with playful arrogance as he continued to pleasure you with his skilled fingers.

You let out a frustrated groan, the need for him overwhelming your senses as his touch drove you closer to the edge of ecstasy. "Just shut up and help me," you demanded, your words laced with a hint of desperation as you tugged at his shirt, your fingers trembling with anticipation.

With a low chuckle, Seungcheol obliged, quickly undoing the remaining buttons of his shirt before tossing it aside, his toned chest revealed in all its glory. "Better?" he asked, his voice husky with desire as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a searing kiss.

"Much better…"

Seungcheol wasted no time in pulling your panties down, his eyes fixed on yours as he spread your legs apart. You squirmed beneath him, craving his touch as he caressed your inner thighs.

Rolling your hips in search of more, you let out a needy whine, biting your lip in anticipation. Every fiber of your being was aflame with desire, and you couldn't wait for him to give you what you needed.

As Seungcheol's warm tongue made contact with your wet folds, a jolt of pleasure shot through your body, causing you to arch your back and scream his name in ecstasy. His smile against your pussy only added to the sensation.

His strong arms held your hips firmly against the mattress, preventing you from squirming away as his tongue worked its magic. Each flick of his tongue against your sensitive bud sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, leaving you unable to do anything but moan incoherently.

"God, yes," you mumbled, your eyes rolling back in your head as he continued to suck and lick you with increasing fervor. The intensity of the pleasure was overwhelming, and you found yourself lost in the bliss of the moment, completely at the mercy of his skilled touch.

As he teased and tantalized you with his tongue, you felt yourself spiraling closer and closer to the edge of release. With each flick and suck, he pushed you further towards the brink, until finally, with a loud cry of pleasure, you tumbled over the edge, your body shaking with the force of your climax.

Seungcheol continued to lap at your wetness, prolonging your pleasure until you were completely spent, you cried out in ecstasy, unable to contain the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body. Gripping his hair tightly, you pulled him closer, eliciting a low moan from him as your actions only fueled his own desire.

Your legs trembled uncontrollably as the intensity of the sensation threatened to overwhelm you, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge of another climax. With each flick of his tongue, the pleasure intensified, sending waves of ecstasy crashing over you in relentless waves.

But, Seungcheol got up, leaving you whining with need, you couldn't help but watch in anticipation as he removed his shorts and underwear. His mouth and chin glistened with your arousal, evidence of the pleasure he had just given you, while his big pink cock stood proudly, already wet with precum.

Taking a moment to appreciate the sight before you, you let your eyes roam over the lines of his abs, the bulging muscles of his arms, and the strong, muscular thighs that spoke volumes of his training and dedication. He was every inch the epitome of strength and masculinity, and the sight of him standing before you left you breathless.

With a teasing grin, you commented on his impressive physique, "Fuck, you're so hot." causing his cock to twitch in response and his cheeks to flush with arousal. You knew the effect your words had on him, and you reveled in the power you held over him in that moment.

As you almost jumped on him, eagerly positioning yourself on top, you wasted no time in reaching for his throbbing cock, your hand wrapping around it firmly. Seungcheol let out a sharp hiss in your ear, the sound sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your body.

With a wicked grin, you began to stroke him slowly, teasingly, relishing the way his breath hitched in response to your touch. Seungcheol's grip tightened on your hips as he struggled to maintain control, his arousal evident in every gasp and moan that escaped his lips. "God, yes, Ma'am." he groaned, his voice thick with desire as he surrendered himself completely to the pleasure of your touch.

Your movements grew more urgent, more insistent, as you stroked him faster and harder, your own arousal building with each passing moment. "You're so fucking hard for me," you whispered, your breath hot against his skin as you continued to pleasure him with skilled hands.

Seungcheol stopped your movements abruptly, grabbing both of your hands and pressing them firmly against the top of your head as he held you in place. A sly smile played on your lips as his cock tapped against your eager pussy, causing you to squirm with anticipation, desperate to feel him inside you.

"Please," you pleaded, your voice filled with longing as you begged for him to fill you completely.

Seungcheol's grin widened as he teased you, drawing out the anticipation until you were practically begging for release.

You waited with bated breath as he slowly began to thrust himself inside you, savoring every inch of his cock as it filled you completely.

With each movement, you could feel him stretching you, filling you in a way that left you breathless with desire. Every vein, every contour of his cock sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, the sensation overwhelming in its intensity.

You moaned softly as he buried himself deep inside you, your walls clenching around him in a desperate attempt to hold him close.

As Seungcheol finally entered you completely, his pelvis pressed tightly against yours, a wave of pleasure washed over you. You could feel every inch of him buried deep inside you, his cock curved perfectly to hit your g'spot with each movement.

With a soft moan, you arched your back, pressing your body closer to his as you reveled in the sensation of being filled so completely. Your hands were tied in his, holding on tightly as you surrendered yourself completely to the pleasure of the moment.

Seungcheol moaned in response, the tightness of your grip and the warmth of your wetness driving him to the brink of madness.

Seungcheol teased you, a mischievous grin playing on his lips as he remarked, "You've been wanting this since the beginning of this trip, haven't you?"

You scoffed playfully, shaking your head as you countered, "You're wrong. I've wanted this since our training days."

His grin widened at your confession, and without missing a beat, he thrust deeper inside you, causing you to cry out in pleasure. "Is that so?" he murmured, his voice thick with desire as he relished the feeling of you tightening around him.

You nodded eagerly, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you surrendered yourself completely to the pleasure of the moment. "Yes," you moaned, your words barely audible as you lost yourself in the sensation of being filled so completely by him.

As you warned Seungcheol that you were about to cum, he swiftly turned you onto your chest, pressing your upper body onto the bed while lifting your ass up. With a primal instinct, he thrust his cock back inside you, eliciting cries of pleasure from your lips.

"Oh my god, oh my god," you whimpered, the sensation in your stomach growing so intense that you knew there was no turning back. And when his hand began to draw perfect circles on your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body, you couldn't hold back any longer.

With a loud scream, you felt yourself climaxing, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm as you squirted all over him and the bed, coating your thighs and his in your ecstasy. Seungcheol's jaw went slack at the sight and sensation, his own arousal reaching new heights as he watched how incredibly horny he had made you.

Seungcheol's breath was hot against your ear as he whispered, his voice husky with desire, "I'm not done with you yet."

Your body trembled in oversensitivity, the waves of pleasure still rippling through you from your earlier climax. "Please," you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper as you pleaded with him to give you a moment to recover.

But Seungcheol had other plans, his hands gripping your hips firmly as he began to thrust into you once again, his cock driving deep inside you with each powerful movement. You gasped in surprise, the intensity of the sensation overwhelming as he continued to pound into you relentlessly.

"Fuck," you moaned, your words barely coherent as you surrendered yourself completely to the pleasure of the moment. Your body was on fire, every nerve ending tingling with sensation as Seungcheol pushed you to the brink of ecstasy once again. "Seungcheol, w-wait,"

As the slickness of your arousal connected your bodies, the sounds emanating from your wet pussy echoed in the bedroom, filling the air with the intoxicating symphony of your passion. Seungcheol closed his eyes, throwing his head back in ecstasy, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensation.

Your pussy was so wet, so tight around him, that every movement sent waves of pleasure coursing through his body. He could feel the creamy ring of your arousal coating his cock, driving him to the brink of ecstasy with each thrust.

But you were too much, your insatiable desire for him driving him to new heights of pleasure. As your pussy throbbed tight around him, merciless in its grip, he couldn't help but surrender himself completely to the overwhelming sensation.

As Seungcheol continued to thrust into you, he spoke to you in a low, husky voice, urging you on to another orgasm. "That's it, Ma'am," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered sweet nothings to drive you wild with desire. "I want to feel you cum for me again."

You tensed under him, the sensation of his words sending a shiver of pleasure down your spine. Your body responded instinctively to his touch, every nerve ending alive with anticipation as you surrendered yourself completely to the pleasure of the moment.

And then, with a final cry of ecstasy, you let go, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm. Your pussy clenched around him, milking him for all he was worth as you rode the wave of pleasure until it consumed you completely.

Seungcheol rolled his hips, his eyes squeezed shut as he savored the feeling of your cunt wrapping tightly around him. It was deliciously intense, and he relished in the sensation of being completely engulfed by you. With each movement, he felt a surge of possessiveness wash over him—it was his, and his alone.

As he neared the edge, he couldn't hold back any longer. With a low groan of pleasure, he released himself inside you, his hot cum painting your walls white. He held onto your ass tightly in his hands, anchoring himself to you as he rode out the waves of ecstasy.

Lost in the moment, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he reveled in the intensity of the pleasure coursing through his body.

As Seungcheol lay there, his body still trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure, you couldn't resist teasing him a little.

"Look at you," you purred, tracing a finger lightly along his chest. "All worn out already?"

Seungcheol cracked open one eye, giving you a playful glare. "I could say the same about you," he retorted, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You laughed softly, running your fingers through his hair. "Oh, but I'm never too tired for round two," you teased, winking at him.

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Is that a challenge?"

You grinned, leaning in closer. "Maybe," you replied, your voice dripping with mischief. "But you'll have to catch your breath first."

Seungcheol chuckled, pulling you closer to him. "Challenge accepted," he murmured, his lips brushing against yours in a tantalizing kiss.

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chosok-amo · 4 months ago

Text

PAIN, SUFFERING AND JESUS : GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU

feeling like shit? feeling nauseous? you are having a fever?don't worry, your two amazing boyfriends are ready to take care of you!

wc. 5,4k | m.list

you wake up in the middle of the night, shivering as a sudden chill creeps over you. nestled between your two boyfriends, you can hear the steady rhythm of their breathing, both of them sound asleep.

despite being surrounded by their warmth, you still feel cold. shifting slightly, you snuggle closer to them, but it doesn’t help much. in a soft, sleepy voice, you mumble, “baby, i’m cold,” hoping one of them will stir and pull you closer.

gojo is first to wake, groggily blinking away at his drowziness and shifting to hold out his arms. “c’mere,” he murmurs, already knowing what you need.

gojo wraps an arm around your waist, pulling your body flush against him. his legs intertwine with yours, effectively pinning you against his chest. he rubs his cheek against your head affectionately, feeling your soft hair against his skin. his voice is rough with sleep as he murmurs, “better?” he whispers, his breath against your skin sending shivers down your spine for a different reason now.

you nestle into gojo's embrace, feeling the warmth of his body as he pulls you close. but despite the comfort of his arms around you, the cold still lingers, and you can’t help but shiver. your body trembles slightly as you try to get closer to him, but it’s not enough.

noticing your continued shivering, gojo frowns slightly in concern, tightening his hold on you. just then, you feel a shift on the other side of the bed. geto stirs, waking up to the sound of your soft shivers. without a word, he reaches for the blanket, draping it over both you and gojo, cocooning you in warmth.

“there we go,” geto murmurs, his voice thick with sleep as he wraps an arm around you from the other side, adding to the warmth. the combined heat of both of them finally starts to chase away the chill, and you relax between them, feeling safe and warm at last.

geto nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. “god, you’re freezing,” he mumbles, his voice still groggy from sleep. he brushes his fingertips over your arm in gentle, languid movements, as if to check your skin temperature. gojo’s hand rubs up and down your back in soothing circles. when he speaks, his voice is still thick with sleep. “you should’ve woken us up sooner, princess,” he murmurs, his lips grazing the top of your head in a light kiss.

you snuggle deeper into the warmth of their embrace, but despite the comfort they offer, you can’t shake the uneasy feeling lingering in your body. as geto’s breath tickles your neck and gojo’s hand moves soothingly along your back, you hesitate for a moment before speaking.

“i… i’m not feeling well,” you finally admit, your voice barely above a whisper. the shivers running through your body aren’t just from the cold, and you can’t ignore the growing ache that seems to be spreading. your eyes are still closed as you try to go back to sleep.

hearing your quiet admission, both gojo and geto immediately become more alert. they exchange a glance over your head, concern evident in their eyes.

gojo gently cups your face, turning it towards him. his thumb rubs against your cheek in a comforting gesture. “what do you mean, you don’t feel well?” he asks, his voice low and gentle. geto’s hand still moves over your skin, but his touch is firmer now, searching for a clue as to what’s wrong. “baby, are you in pain?”

you can feel both of their eyes on you as they wait for an answer. the silence feels heavy and the concern in their voices makes your heart ache. gojo moves his hand from your face to rest it on your forehead. he gently presses his palm against your skin, checking for a fever. “do you have a headache?” he asks quietly. geto’s gaze never leaves your face, his eyes searching for any sign of discomfort. “anywhere else hurts?” he inquires, his fingers gently tracing along your arm.

you nod slowly in response to gojo's question, feeling the warmth of his hand on your forehead as he checks for a fever. the gentle pressure of his touch and the concerned looks from both of them make you feel a bit more vulnerable, but also deeply cared for. “my head..” you admit softly, your voice barely above a whisper. as the ache in your head persists, you wrap your arm tighter around gojo's waist, seeking more of his warmth.

“i’m still cold,” you mumble, almost like a plea, your words muffled as you press yourself closer to him, hoping that somehow their combined warmth will chase away the chills and discomfort. gojo's arm slides around your back, pulling you even closer against him. he holds you to his chest like a lifeline, his hand rubbing soothing circles along your back.

geto shifts behind you, propping himself up on one elbow. he presses his palm against your forehead, checking your temperature for himself. his lips press against your shoulder in a soft, affectionate kiss. “yeah, you definitely have a fever,” he sighs lightly. gojo's fingers tangle gently in your hair, his touch firm yet tender. “you should’ve told us sooner,” he scolds gently.

both gojo and geto exchange a quick glance before focusing back on you. while gojo tightens his arms around you and pulls you closer, burying your face against his shoulder, geto gently pats your head.

gojo's voice is gentle but firm as he speaks up. “we need to check your temperature,” he murmurs, shifting a little to reach for a digital thermometer on the nightstand. geto nods in agreement, carefully draping the blanket tighter around you. “just hold still, okay?” he instructs, keeping a soothing hand on your back.

you feel gojo lean to the side to grab the thermometer, and you can hear the gentle click as he turns it on. you know it's only to check your temperature, but the sound in the silent room makes you shiver slightly. geto's hand continues to stroke your back soothingly, his touch grounding as the two of them prepare to take your temperature. “open up, princess,” gojo says quietly, the thermometer hovering near your mouth.

you reluctantly pull your face away from gojo's chest, the warmth of his skin slipping away as you do. with a small, tired sigh, you tilt your head back just enough to look up at him, your eyes heavy with exhaustion. gojo’s gentle expression and the soft glow of the thermometer in his hand make you feel a bit more at ease.

obediently, you open your mouth slightly, allowing gojo to place the thermometer under your tongue. the cool metal feels strange against your warm skin, and you close your eyes as you lean your head back against his chest, waiting for the soft beep that would signal it was done. through it all, geto’s hand never stops its soothing strokes on your back, his touch calming as you try to relax in their care.

gojo holds the thermometer gently, his hand supporting your head to keep it steady. he watches as the small number on the screen counts up slowly, his eyes flicking between it and your tired face.

geto's hand slides down from your back to your hip, his thumb rubbing slow, soothing circles against your skin. he leans closer, placing a soft kiss to your temple as he waits alongside gojo for the thermometer to finish its work. after a few moments, the soft beep finally sounds out, and gojo gently removes the thermometer from your mouth.

gojo checks the readout, his brow furrowing slightly as he sees the numbers displayed. he shows it to geto silently, who looks at it with a concerned frown.

“102,” he reads aloud, his voice low. he exchanges a worried glance with gojo before turning his attention back to you. gojo tucks the thermometer back onto the nightstand before wrapping his arm around you again, pulling you closer against him. “princess, that's a pretty high fever,” he murmurs, his hand rubbing up and down your arm.

geto's hand moves back up to your forehead, his fingertips pressing lightly against your skin. he leans forward a little, concern etched on his face. “are you feeling nauseous at all?” he asks, his voice gentle but laced with worry.

gojo's arm stays firmly around you, his touch firm but comforting as he holds you to his chest. “have you eaten anything since dinner?” he inquires, thinking that your empty stomach might be contributing to your current state. his fingers brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his gaze searching yours for any sign of what might be wrong.

you groan softly in protest as they lay you down, feeling a wave of frustration bubble up at the sudden shift in position. but your body feels heavy, and you sink back against the pillows. you shake your head slightly, feeling a bit overwhelmed by their questions.

gojo's and geto's gazes meet over your head, their concern growing at the realization that your empty stomach might be exacerbating your fever. geto's hand gently squeezes your shoulder, his touch both firm and soothing as he glances at gojo before speaking. “we need to get some food into you, princess. maybe it’ll help you feel better.” gojo nods in agreement, his hand still gently stroking your hair. “do you think you can stomach some soup?” he asks, his voice soft and patient.

with your eyes still closed, you instinctively lean toward the warmth closest to you, feeling the steady comfort of their presence. you nod slightly, the movement small and tired, but enough to show that you're willing to try. gojo's arm tightens around you as you lean into his touch. he can feel your fatigue, the way your body feels heavy and tired against him. he gently presses his lips to the top of your head, his kiss tender and full of concern. both men exchange a smile, relieved that you’ve agreed to eat something.

geto gently pats your shoulder as he rises from the bed. “we’ll get you some soup, love. you stay here and rest,” he instructs, the concern still evident in his eyes. gojo's hold on you doesn't loosen, he keeps you tucked into his side as he adjusts his position to make you more comfortable. “we'll be right back,” he promises, his fingers still tangled in your hair.

as you hear geto mention leaving the room, a wave of panic sweeps over you. their presence is the only thing keeping the chill and discomfort at bay, and the thought of them leaving—even for a moment—makes you feel even more vulnerable.

slowly, you open your eyes, your gaze shifting between gojo and geto as they prepare to move away from the bed. “no,” you murmur, your voice hoarse and soft. you shift slightly, tightening your hold on gojo as if to anchor him in place. “i… i wanna go with you.” the words come out in a whisper, but they’re laced with a hint of desperation.

your eyes, though heavy with fatigue, show your need to stay close, not wanting to be left alone even for a short time. you cling to gojo’s warmth, and though you know they’re just going to the kitchen, the comfort of being near them is something you’re not willing to let go of at the moment. and they know you tend to get more clingy when you are sick.

both gojo and geto pause at the sound of your small, almost pleading voice. they exchange a quick glance, their eyes meeting over you as they silently communicate without words.

gojo's arms wrap more firmly around you, pulling you tight against his side. he gently cards his fingers through your hair, his touch reassuring and affectionate. “you need to rest, princess,” he murmurs, his voice soft and gentle. geto hesitates for a moment before sighing quietly, a hint of a smile on his face. “we’ll only be in the kitchen, love. we'll be right back.” you shake your head and wrap your arms around gojo's neck tightly, refusing to let go.

gojo's eyes widen slightly as you cling to him, your arms wrapping around his neck in a tight hold. he glances over your head at geto, silently seeking his input.

geto watches the scene with a mixture of slight amusement and fondness, knowing how clingy you tend to get when you're not feeling well. he sighs lightly, his voice laced with resignation. “we can't say no to that, can we?” he remarks, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

both men exchange a knowing look; they know that resisting your clinginess can be futile. they also know that your need for them is greater when you're unwell. gojo's arms tighten around you again, holding you securely in his embrace. he shoots a quick glance over your head at geto before speaking. “fine,” he concedes, his voice gently firm. “you can come with us. but you have to stay close, alright?”

geto's eyes soften as he meets gojo's glance, understanding exactly what he's thinking. he knows how much you need their presence right now, especially when you're feeling so vulnerable. without hesitation, he moves to your shared wardrobe, his movements fluid and purposeful.

as he opens the wardrobe, geto quickly scans the shelves, his hand reaching for a familiar hoodie—one of his oversized ones that you often borrow because of how warm and comforting it is. he pulls it out along with a pair of thick socks, knowing that the added warmth will help you feel more comfortable.

he returns to your side, his expression gentle as he kneels down in front of you. “here, love,” he murmurs, holding up the hoodie. “let's get you warm first.”

with care, geto slips the hoodie over your head, his hands moving slowly so as not to jostle you too much. the fabric is soft and comforting, enveloping you in its warmth as he pulls it down over your body. he then helps you with the socks, his touch gentle as he slides them onto your feet, making sure they're snug.

gojo watches as geto carefully dresses you in his hoodie and helps you slip on the socks, his gaze filled with tenderness. he runs his hand slowly up and down your back, feeling the soft fabric of the hoodie beneath his palm.

he can see the way the oversized garment engulfs your small frame, making you look even more vulnerable and fragile. it's a sight that stirs a protective instinct within him, a need to keep you safe and warm. once you're fully dressed with the hoodie on and the cozy socks covering your feet, gojo takes a moment to appreciate how cute you look wearing geto's hoodie. he reaches out and tugs on the hood slightly, pulling it down to cover your head.

“you look adorable,” he murmurs, his voice filled with affection. he shares a fond smile with geto before reluctantly shifting his hold on you, preparing to stand up. geto stands up from where he was kneeling, his eyes still on you as you remain cuddled in gojo's arms. he takes a moment to admire his hoodie on you, feeling a pang of warmth in his chest at the sight of you wrapped in his garment.

“ready?” geto asks, his voice soft and gentle as he looks at you. he offers his hand, ready to guide you off the bed and towards the kitchen. you nod sluggishly, your head feeling heavy with exhaustion. you slowly untangle yourself from gojo's embrace, your movements still slightly clumsy and sluggish.

gojo helps you up from the bed, his arm wrapping around your waist to support you as you stand. “take it slow, princess,” he warns, his voice laced with concern as he steadies you.

once you're on your feet, you take a moment to gather your bearings, leaning lightly against gojo's side. geto moves to flank your other side, offering you more stability as you begin to move towards the kitchen. gojo's hand stays firmly on your waist as he guides you carefully across the room, his support steady and reassuring. his eyes constantly flicker towards your face, searching for any signs of worsening condition.

geto walks closely on your other side, his hand hovering near your back, ready to reach out and help if you stumble. both men are silently on alert, their protective instincts fully engaged as they navigate you to the kitchen. the kitchen is filled with a calm, dimly lit ambiance as they enter. the cool tiles are a stark contrast to your warm, feverish body. gojo gently steers you towards the counter, where a chair awaits.

“sit down, princess,” he instructs, his voice gentle but firm. he holds onto you as you take a seat on the chair, his hand resting on your back. geto moves to the nearby stove, preparing to heat up some soup for you to eat.

as you sit down, the coolness of the kitchen tiles beneath your feet contrasts sharply with the warmth of your feverish skin, making you shiver slightly. the dim light feels harsh against your eyes, and the headache that's been lingering grows more intense. you let out a low groan, closing your eyes briefly as you prop your elbow on the countertop, using your hand to support your heavy head.

both gojo and geto notice your discomfort as they see you shiver and close your eyes as you lean on the counter. gojo's eyes narrow with concern as he moves closer, his hand sliding up to your forehead to check your temperature.

“you alright, princess?” he queries softly, his tone filled with worry. he keeps his hand on your forehead, feeling the heat radiating off your skin. geto, meanwhile, continues to heat up the soup on the stove, his eyes periodically flicking back towards you to monitor your state.

you shake your head slightly, eyes still closed as you lean more into the counter. “no, i feel worse,” you mumble, your voice barely above a whisper. the warmth of gojo’s hand on your forehead is soothing, but the fever and headache make everything else feel overwhelming. you can hear the soft clatter of dishes as geto works at the stove, his occasional glances your way not going unnoticed. despite feeling awful, you’re comforted by their presence, knowing they’re both taking care of you.

gojo's expression tightens further as you murmur your distress, his concern deepening as he feels your skin getting warmer under his palm. his hand gently cups the side of your face, his thumb stroking your cheek tenderly.

geto, hearing your words, glances back from the stove, his gaze fixated on you. there's a flicker of worry mirrored in his eyes, silently echoing the same concern that's evident in gojo's expression. “princess,” gojo says softly, his voice thick with worry, “how bad does the headache feel?”

you groan softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you mumble, “fucking 100.” the pain throbs behind your eyes, and you feel utterly drained. without another word, you let your head rest against the cool countertop, seeking any relief you can find. your eyes flutter closed, and you take a deep, shaky breath, hoping to escape the pounding in your skull, even if only for a moment.

gojo's thumb continues to stroke your cheek tenderly, his worry evident in the way his hand trembles slightly. geto watches you with a furrowed brow, his heart aching to see you in pain. the atmosphere in the room feels heavy with concern, but their presence is a small comfort, grounding you as you try to endure the relentless headache.

gojo's eyes widen slightly at your response, his heart clenching with worry. he keeps his hand on your cheek, gently caressing your skin as he watches you rest your head against the countertop.

geto, having heard your reply, turns around fully from the stove, his expression one of clear concern. “oh, poor baby,” he mutters under his breath, the word a silent reflection of his anxiousness. gojo's grip on you tightens slightly as he speaks again, his voice low and firm, “we need to get your fever down, princess.”

both men exchange a brief, worried glance before geto nods, his jaw set tightly. he grabs a bowl from the nearby cupboard and quickly scoops some soup into it, setting it down on the counter next to you. “try and eat a bit of this,” he instructs gently, his voice filled with quiet urgency, “it'll help you feel better.”

gojo remains at your side, his hand still caressing your cheek as he watches you rest against the counter, a mixture of worry and protectiveness evident in his eyes. you sit up slowly, taking the spoon from geto’s hand. despite the lingering headache and fatigue, you start to eat the warm soup. the heat of it soothes your throat and warms you from the inside, offering some comfort.

gojo watches quietly as you slowly start to eat the soup, a small sense of relief visible on his face. it's a simple act, but it shows that you're at least trying to eat despite not feeling well. geto's gaze doesn't waver, his eyes fixed on you as you eat. he watches every movement, ready to step in if needed. he leans against the counter, his arms crossed. gojo breaks the brief silence, his voice soft, “how does the soup taste, princess?”

you take a few more reluctant spoonfuls of the soup before muttering, “like shit because my tongue can’t taste anything.” your tone is flat, reflecting the discomfort that’s overwhelming your senses. despite your attempt to eat, the lack of taste only serves as a reminder of how lousy you feel.

a mixture of surprise and slight amusement flickers across gojo’s face at your honest answer. it’s a bit unexpected, but it also shows that despite not feeling well, you haven’t entirely lost your sense of humor.

geto, on the other hand, rolls his eyes a little but can't help but crack a small smile as well. “you haven't lost your wit, that's for sure,” he remarks, his voice filled with affectionate teasing. geto can’t help a small, fond smile at your reply. he knows that your bluntness is a sign that you’re still yourself, despite feeling under the weather.

gojo’s fingers run through your hair affectionately, a small chuckle escaping his lips. “well, i suppose it's not the soup's fault you can't taste anything.” gojo’s expression softens, though the concern in his eyes remains. he gently rubs your back, offering silent comfort. “we’ll find something that helps,” he says quietly, his voice reassuring even as he shares your frustration.

you chuckle softly, the sound a bit raspy but genuine. “i'm sure the soup is good,” you murmur, a small smile tugging at your lips, “but all my tongue can feel is just warm.” your eyes meet theirs, still grateful for the effort they've put in despite your current state. their presence and affection are what really comfort you, even more than the soup.

gojo's smile widens slightly as he watches your small smile and listens to your raspy voice. the sight is endearing, despite your current illness. he continues to gently run his fingers through your hair, his touch soothing.

geto leans further against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest. he meets your gaze, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and affection. he silently studies you, noting your smile and the gratitude in your eyes. “don't worry about it, princess,” geto says softly, “just focus on eating.”

as you slowly continue to eat, gojo and geto both remain where they are, their eyes still fixed on you. they exchange another glance, a silent conversation passing between them. it's clear that they're both worried about your condition, but they're also trying to keep a calm and steady presence for your sake. they can see the exhaustion and discomfort you're experiencing, and they're silently determined to do whatever they can to help bring down your fever.

suddenly, a wave of nausea washes over you, and you quickly bring your hand up to cover your mouth, your face contorting in discomfort. your body tenses as you fight the urge to vomit, and you feel a surge of panic at the sudden wave of sickness.

as gojo and geto observe you, they instantly pick up on the change in your expression. your hand covering your mouth and your face contorting in discomfort immediately gives away that something is amiss. gojo's hand drops from your hair, his eyes widening in concern when you cover your mouth. geto straightens up rapidly, his arms uncrossing. “princess?” gojo's voice is tight with worry as he immediately moves closer to you, his hand going to your back. geto steps forward too, his eyes watching you closely, “are you feeling nauseous?”

you barely have time to react before the nausea overtakes you. with a sudden, unsteady motion, you stumble toward the sink, your hand still pressed to your mouth as you fight to stay in control.

when you finally reach the sink, you can’t hold it any longer. you lean over and throw up, the sudden upheaval making your entire body feel weak and trembling. the coldness of the sink against your skin and the unpleasant taste in your mouth only add to your discomfort.

as you stumble and rush toward the sink, both gojo and geto immediately move in to provide support. they see the immediate switch from discomfort to nausea and know exactly what's coming next. as you lean over the sink and begin to vomit, they both instinctively reach out. gojo's arm steadies you from behind, his hand supporting your back, while geto steps closer to your side, his hand reaching to hold your hair back. “let it out, princess,” geto whispers gently, his voice filled with concern, “let it out.”

as you feel another wave of nausea hit, you weakly try to push them away, your voice trembling as you murmur, “don’t look, it’s disgusting.” your words are barely out before you’re throwing up again, the sound of your own discomfort only adding to the embarrassment. gojo's grip on you from behind doesn't loosen as you try to push him away. he remains steadfast in his support, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back, even as you protest.

“don't worry about that, princess,” he murmurs back, his voice soft but firm, “we just want to make sure you're okay.”

geto stays by your side, his hand still holding your hair back and his eyes focused on you. he doesn't budge, continuing to help and support you through the episode. “just focus on getting it out,” he reassures gently.

as you continue to throw up, gojo and geto stay by your side, their presence a constant, steady reassurance. they don't show any revulsion or disgust, their only concern being your well-being.

after a few tense moments, you're finally done. you lean heavily against the sink, your body trembling with the aftermath, your face paler than it was before. gojo's hand remains on your back, his touch gentle and comforting. “it's alright, princess,” he murmurs. geto's hand gently lets go of your hair as you finish.

leaning heavily against the sink, you take deep, shaky breaths, your body still trembling from the ordeal. you glance up at them, your face pale and weary. “i hate being sick,” you mumble weakly, your voice barely above a whisper. you let out a sigh, feeling a mix of frustration and exhaustion.

both gojo and geto can see the toll your sickness is taking on you. the paleness of your face and the weakness in your voice are clear indications of how much this illness is affecting you. gojo's hand on your back continues to rub soothing circles, his touch gentle and reassuring. “we know, princess,” he murmurs, his voice filled with concern. geto moves closer, his eyes filled with a mixture of empathy and worry. “but you'll get through this. we'll be here with you every step of the way.”

as you lean against the sink, your body is still shaking from the episode, they both exchange a worried glance. gojo continues to soothingly rub your back, trying to offer comfort despite the situation. “just take a moment to breathe, princess,” he instructs gently, his voice filled with worry, “do you think you're done throwing up?”

geto reaches to grab a nearby towel, dampening it under the faucet briefly before wringing it slightly and handing it to you, “here, you can use this to wipe your mouth.” you nod weakly, accepting the damp towel from geto with a grateful smile. as you dab your mouth and try to steady your breathing, you look up at them with a mixture of exhaustion and regret. “i’m sorry for making you wake up so late,” you say softly, your voice tinged with guilt. “i know you must be tired from work.”

as you apologize quietly, both gojo and geto's expression visibly softens. they can hear the guilt and remorse in your voice, the exhaustion in your eyes. gojo shakes his head, a comforting smile on his face. “don't apologize, princess,” he says gently. “your health is more important than our sleep. we'd rather be here for you, no matter the time.”

geto nods his agreement, his eyes filled with understanding, “we'd much rather be here with you, making sure you're okay.” they can both see the exhaustion on your face, the guilt you feel for interrupting their rest written all over your expression. but they refuse to let you feel bad about it. gojo's hand continues to slowly rub your back soothingly as he responds, “seriously, princess. you don't need to apologise for needing help.”

geto adds, his voice soft yet sincere, “we mean it. we'd much rather be here with you than sleep. you being alright is all that matters.” gojo and geto's expressions remain firm and sincere as they reassure you. they both know that you're feeling guilty for waking them up so late, but they want you to know how unimportant it is compared to your well-being.

gojo's hand continues to move in soothing circles on your back, the motion a constant, gentle reassurance of their presence and care. “we’re here for you, princess,” he says softly, his voice filled with determination, “we'll take care of you until you feel better.” geto nods his agreement, his expression reflecting gojo's determination. “you're not a bother, and you're not interrupting anything,” he says firmly. “our priority is making sure you feel better, and we won’t leave your side until you do.”

gojo's hand comes to a stop on your back, his hand squeezing your shoulder gently. “you're not a burden, princess,” he asserts, his voice gentle but firm. “we chose to care for you. don’t ever feel guilty for needing that care.”

geto nods in agreement, his eyes filled with determination. “that's right,” he echoes, his voice filled with a mixture of compassion and resolve. “we'll do whatever it takes to make you feel better.”

gojo can't help but let out a small, soft chuckle. “besides, a little late-night wake-up is nothing compared to what we're used to with our job.” geto rolls his eyes at gojo's lighthearted comment, but there's a hint of a smile on his face as well.

gojo grins at seto's eye roll, his own eyes sparkling with amusement. he knows that in the grand scheme of the job they do, staying up late for you is nothing new. “see, we're actually kinda used to this,” he says, his voice tinged with a touch of cheeky humour.

geto rolls his eyes again but this time, he can't help but crack a small smile at gojo's lightheartedness. “yes, but most missions don't involve dealing with vomit and fevers,” he replies with a hint of dry wit.

you chuckle lightly at their banter, but the sound quickly turns into a groan as the fatigue overwhelms you. sliding down to the floor, you rest your back against the counter, your body feeling heavy and drained. “you guys are ridiculous,” you mumble, trying to smile despite the discomfort. but even as you try to play it off, the exhaustion in your eyes is clear, and your chuckle fades into a sigh as you close your eyes, seeking a moment of peace.

as you chuckle and slide down to the floor, both gojo and geto's expressions instantly fill with concern. they can see the fatigue taking its toll on you, your body slumped against the counter, your eyes closing in exhaustion.

gojo lets out a low sigh, his hand dropping from your shoulder. geto's smile fades, his eyes filled with worry as he takes a step closer. “princess,” gojo says quietly, his voice laced with concern. “you need to rest, not sit on the cold floor.”

as gojo's words sink in, the overwhelming fatigue and the throbbing pain in your head finally break through your resolve. tears well up in your eyes, and before you can stop them, they spill over, running down your cheeks. you cover your face with your hands, trying to stifle the sobs, but it's no use—everything just feels too much.

both gojo and geto are stricken with a profound sense of concern and worry as they see the tears rolling down your face. seeing you struggle to hold back sobs, the pain and fatigue clear on your face, they can't hide the pained expressions on their own faces.

gojo immediately sinks to the floor beside you, his arms instinctively wrapping around you, pulling you gently towards his chest. his hold is firm but gentle, a protective embrace. geto kneels down in front of you, his hand reaching to gently pull away your hands from your face.

as gojo holds you close, his arms around you in a secure embrace, he can feel the tremors of sobs racking through your body. geto kneels in front of you, his fingers gently prying your hands away from your face, uncovering your tear-streaked cheeks.

“shh, princess, it's alright,” gojo whispers, his voice a gentle murmur against your hair, “let it out. there's no shame in letting go.” geto's eyes are filled with sympathy as he looks at your tear-streaked face. he reaches forward, his fingers gently brushing away some of the tears trickling down your cheeks. “it's okay, sweetheart,” he says, his voice soft and comforting. “just cry it out. we're here.”

gojo continues to hold you tight against his chest, his hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back. every now and then, he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, murmuring reassurances as he holds you. you sniffle and wipe at your eyes, feeling a little comforted by their gentle touches and soft words. “i … wanna go to bed,” you murmur, your voice shaky and small. the exhaustion is hitting you hard now, and all you can think about is lying down and trying to escape the pain in your head.

as you murmur that you just want to go to bed, both gojo and geto's expressions immediately soften even more. gojo's hold on you doesn't loosen, his hands continuing to rub soothing circles on your back. “of course, princess,” he says quietly, his voice filled with tenderness, “let's get you to bed. you need to rest.”

geto nods in agreement, his expression filled with concern and care. “we'll get you into bed and make sure you're comfortable,” he adds, his hand going to your arm, preparing to help you rise from the floor. you look up at gojo with a tired, pleading expression. “can you carry me?” you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper, “i don’t feel like walking.”

as you look up at gojo with a tired and pleading expression, asking to be carried, his eyes soften as he looks at you. without hesitation, he nods and shifts his arms, one going under your knees and the other around your back. “of course, princess,” he says softly, “i've got you.”

with a gentle but firm hold, he carefully scoops you up into his arms, lifting you from the floor and against his chest. his movements are steady and careful, ensuring your comfort. as gojo carries you into the bedroom, geto follows closely behind, flicking off the lights on their way. in his hand, he carefully holds a glass of water and your medication, making sure they're easily within reach from the bedside.

once they reach the bed, gojo gently lowers you down onto the sheets, his arms still maintaining a supportive hold. geto steps over, setting the glass and medicine on the bedside table, always focused on your comfort and care. both gojo and geto watch as you begin to drift off, your eyelids already flickering closed. seeing your exhaustion and fatigue taking their toll, they exchange a sympathetic glance over you.

gojo carefully tucks the blankets around you, his touch gentle and careful not to wake you. “rest, princess,” gojo murmurs quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, “we'll keep watch for the night.”

while gojo hovers by your side, geto settles down comfortably beside you, delicately placing an extra blanket over you, ensuring you're perfectly tucked in and warm. he then dips his head down, planting a tender kiss on your forehead, his touch filled with love and reassurance. “you'll be alright, sweetheart,” he whispers softly, his voice brimming with warmth and reassurance, “we'll make sure of it. we promise.”

as you drift off to sleep and geto settles in beside you, gojo stands watch for a while, his eyes flicking between you and the door. he listens to the soft sounds of your breathing, his body and mind at ease now that he knows you're comfortable and rest.

geto reaches out, his hand finding yours under the covers, his fingers lacing with yours in a comforting grip. he gives your hand a light, reassuring squeeze, a silent assurance that they're both there, watching over you. they both know that you're deeply asleep, but they can't help but stay by your side, their protective instincts preventing them from leaving you. they whisper quietly to each other, discussing your condition and what they can do to help.

every now and then, one of them will gently brush your hair away from your forehead, or adjust the blankets around you, ensuring your comfort is their priority. as you sleep deeply, gojo and geto stay close by, their presence a constant source of comfort. they keep their voices low, talking quietly about your condition to avoid waking you.

“we should ask shoko about this,” gojo suggests softly, sliding under the covers on your other side. “she might have some insight or better advice.”

geto nods, his gaze still on you as he adjusts the blankets. “yeah, that’s a good idea. we’ll reach out to her first thing tomorrow. for now, let’s just focus on keeping her comfortable.” their voices are filled with concern, their eyes constantly checking on you as they continue their quiet watch.

TAGLIST :

@junni-berry @fortunatelyfurrygiver @soraya-daydreams @diorzs @dancing--devils @iloveboysinred @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni

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recycledraccoon · 8 months ago

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What if....

Damien and Danyal Al Ghul are twins. Danyal takes heavily after Bruce but Damien is a perfect mix of their parents, and he came out of the artificial womb first, so Damien is decided to be the heir.

Growing up in the League is hard, but Damien excels in a way that Danyal doesn't, because for all the potential Danyal has, he hates the killing and there is a rebellious streak evident even as young as they are. A rebellious streak is a...very dangerous thing to have. Grandfather won't kill Danyal, for as ruthless as he is he doesn't kill his own lineage. But that is not to say that the additional "training" Danyal goes through is merciful.

Damien and Danyal love each other, not just as brothers but also in the way partners do when they don't even have to blink to anticipate the others actions in the midst of action. Which is why Damien, not even yet six, can see the way Danyal is being broken down under the burden of their joint legacy.

So many times, in so many of the universes in which he exists, Danyal Al Ghul is or is seemingly killed, of which is the catalyst for his escape from the League of Assassins, and his brother is left behind thinking him truly dead.

In this universe, when the Demon Twins are out on a training mission (an assassination of a target so easy it's beneath the League for anything other than the simplest of first training missions) a massive earthquake occurs.

They are alive at the end, but both their communication devices are beyond repair. Damien is more roughed up than Danyal at the end, but both are dirty and bloodied.

This is an unprecedented opportunity, of which Damien knows deep down he will never get again.

He loves his brother deeply, but Danyal is weak, always hesitating before the kill, hands shaking. Damien loves his brother and fighting side by side, but he values more the quiet moments when Danyal is looking at star maps and trying to match them up with the sky above their home or making snarky comments about their trainers under his breath. (After when they can't hear Damien doesn't laugh but Danyal always knows he agrees and is amused.)

Grandfather's and Mother's additional training to bring Danyal up to Damien's level is making Danyal go quiet and emotionless and Damien is selfish.

(Damien convinces his twin brother to leave the League of Assassins.)

Damien drags himself to the rendezvous point and returns home alone, reporting the target dead and his brother lost under rock in the quake, body unable to be recovered. He is colder, furious at the world and himself. He pushes and pushes and PUSHES himself. He is the last remaining of a set and he will prove himself perfect to carry the title of Heir perfectly and without reproach. He is more loyal day by day, the guilt his selfishness and betrayal of his family a deep sting he can't ignore.

Talia does search, but so many bodies were lost or unidentified inside mass graves. She grieves and then refocuses on her remaining son without looking back. Grandfather laments the loss, but cares little for the spare in the long run.

Meanwhile, Danyal hid himself long enough to sneak onto one of many transports filled with foreign aid. He is small and sneakier than any average stowaway, and remains undetected all the way to the US.

He doesn't go to Gotham to find his father, but picks a direction at random and leaves, until eventually he's picked up and put in the system. Bouncing around until one day, not long after he turns seven, the Dr.'s Fenton and their young daughter are visiting in their search to adopt their second child. (A combination of genetics and radiation from their earliest experiments in college leaving the pair with low fertility rates and very high risks if they ever did get pregnant. The two get procedures early on and adopt Jazz when she is still fairly young, but wait until she is a bit older before adopting again.)

Danyal Al Ghul had an older twin brother.

Daniel Fenton doesn't think he could handle having an older brother again, but an older sister is acceptable.

Danyal left to go full civilian, and when Damien had sent him off decided he would carry that knowledge to his grave if he must. He tells no one, and does not even mention ever having a twin when he goes to live with their Father in Gotham. If Mother did not tell Father of the deceased son, then neither will Damien.

Danyal Al Ghul is dead, and Damien will keep it that way.

(The greatest secret is this: The two have never lost contact. It is very easy, during a natural disaster, to steal a pair of burner phones, each with one number only on them and prepaid with enough stolen funds to last years. Danny smuggles his with him in one piece, Damien smuggles his in pieces, ready to be hidden and repaired when necessary. He checks it scarcely, but every few months is enough to make sure his twin is alive. When he goes to live with Father in Gotham, they communicate a bit more frequently. This remains his most fiercely protected secret.)

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp prompt #dpxdc #dp x dc prompt #danny and damian are twins #oops this was in my drafts for a hot minute might as well post it now while I'm NOT on mobile for once

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forlix · 11 months ago

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𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・1.2k / 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・chan x gn!reader / 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲𝘀・fluff, hurt/comfort, established relationship, berry being the perfect girl she is. inspired by these bubble messages and @cosmic-railwayxo's treachery. (love u deni)

𝟬𝟲:𝟯𝟲 — “Where’s my baby, hm?”

This is the question on Chan’s lips the moment he lets go of the bedroom door, closed with agonizing caution as to not wake the figure still curled up under the duvet inside.

It’s early. Early enough so the walls are colored a rich beige by new rays of sunlight, so his footsteps are the only sound reverberating around the hallways when he commences his search. Early enough to evidence how he was only bestowed a few hours of sleep before waking up with a budding headache and leaden eyelids.

But he doesn’t mind the lack of rest, not this time. Not when there’s a wad of love with a freckled snout and floppy ears under the same roof for the first time in too long.

“Berry?” Chan calls, his voice tattered and low, like sandpaper. He rakes his eyes over the spots he remembers to be her favorite. Maybe they’ve changed since he was last home. Maybe everything has changed since he was last home.

The thought causes a familiar pang to go off within him, poignant and powerful, but the quiet scuffle of paws against hardwood takes the edge off the guilt straightaway.

Chan finds the beginnings of a smile on his lips before she even rounds the corner, and when she does, well. His grin might as well split his face down the middle. He’s on his knees in seconds, outstretched hands rediscovering home in the puppy’s silky fur as she clambers onto him with blown pupils and excited pants.

His adoring coos of her name falter into muted laughter, which then fragments into a sob. His vision narrows to his precious girl and then starts to blur. When Berry climbs up to give his cheek a few happy licks, she’s fascinated by its saltiness.

You emerge from the bedroom a little over an hour later. Sleeping is hard enough when you’re jetlagged, and even harder when there’s only mattress where you remember Chan’s warm solidity to be. The fabric of Chan’s hoodie suppresses your vocalization of his name as you ungracefully pull it over your torso, still struggling to rouse your body from sleep.

Your beckon produces no response. You wrap a hand around the nearest door frame and peek your head into the living room, a little more alert now.

“Chan? Baby?”

You feel silly. How many visits has it been for you to still feel this nervous, wandering around Chan’s family home? Yet you undoubtedly are, whether because of your absentee boyfriend or that his whole family is a few walls away. You pad through the silent abode with mounting trepidation and intense care to not make any more sound than necessary.

Then you reach the family room and instantly come to a standstill, hands drifting to your sides, features deliquescing to a soft smile.

Lying on the nearest couch is your boyfriend, head propped up on top of his elbow, his fluttering lashes and gently oscillating shoulders indicating that he’s asleep. You can’t see his face below his eyes, as he has his nose nuzzled into the Cavalier spaniel resting securely in his arms, snoring tacitly into his sleeve, slumbering as deeply as her human companion.

You’ve been stumbling upon Chan sleeping in unexpected places for the better part of two years now, but you still liquefy every time as if it’s the first. These are the moments, you’ve come to realize, when you can care for him in ways he would never let you while conscious: a lift of his laptop off his thighs, a brush of your lips against his hairline, a cardigan draped lightly over his back. These are the moments when you understand in full how far you’ve come together, for him to trust you with his exhaustion with such transparency, to be so vulnerable as to leave you with memories of him that he’ll never have.

Despite your prolonged experience, it’s hard to describe what exactly you’re feeling in this moment. The mere mention of Berry has always dissipated the shadows that veil his face, has always chased off the burdens that cling to his spine. How do you put it into words, seeing your happiness at his happiest?

It suddenly occurs to you that the window beside them is cracked open. That, and you spotted extra quilts in the top shelf of Chan’s closet last night.

Chan’s eyelids lift when he feels the gentle weight of a blanket fall upon his body; so do the corners of his lips, when the culprit materializes before him. Sitting on the edge of the couch, a hand hovering over his frame, face creased into a flinch.

“Sorry,” you whisper, closing the distance between your fingers and the curve of his neck. The pad of your thumb moves over his cheekbone like a willow branch skimming water. “I didn’t think that would wake you up.”

Both of you up, you mentally amend, seeing as Berry has noticed your presence and is wagging her tail with enough vigor for it to thump against Chan’s chest. He lets her wriggle out of his arms and into yours; you emit a noise of glee and gather her into you.

If only you had seen the expression he wears then, watching your eyes scrunch closed at the frenzied kisses she presses to your face. His first love and his very last.

“Don’t apologize,” he answers. “I’m the one who should be sorry for leaving you in bed, I just…”

His voice trails off, but he knows by the softness in your irises when they meet his that you already know.

You move like clockwork. Chan presses up into the back of the couch, the quilt’s edge lifted in wordless invitation. It is your chest that Berry burrows into this time, the top of her head sliding into the space between your chin and the sofa’s cushion. It is Chan’s chest that you’re folded into, the arms around your waist like the coziest of cabins in a sun-spattered wood. It is the back of your neck that he nuzzles his nose into, but not before he litters gossamer kisses across the expanse of skin, as if printing the notes to a lullaby he knows well.

Everything is warm, so warm, so right, and jetlag starts to feel like a distant trouble.

You open your mouth while teetering on the cusp of a dream.

“Baby?”

He hums into you, listening.

“Always be happy, okay?”

You don’t notice the solitary tear that traverses the bridge of his nose, lands in the cotton of your hood, and dyes the bunched-up fabric a few shades darker. You don’t notice how his embrace around you tightens marginally, like how one’s eyes can’t help but find their dearest possession when the building’s on fire.

“Okay,” he whispers, and kisses your nape once more. Your and Chan’s eyes close together. Berry licks your chin again, then follows suit.

(Another hour later, Chan’s parents walk into the family room. They decide to go out to breakfast for fear of making too much noise in the kitchen, Chan’s mother blotting away tears as she ducks into shotgun, Chan’s father laughing at her sentimentality while blinking back his own.

Another few hours later, Hannah takes maybe fifty-some photographs of the triad of unmoving heaps occupying their couch. Then she grumbles at Berry for being dead asleep at eleven in the morning: “Those two arrived here from across the world yesterday. What’s your excuse?”)

🔖 (send an ask or reply to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@skzms・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp・ @automaticpersonabatpaper・@aceofvernons・@linos-kitten・@newhope8

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baelarys · 4 months ago

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𝙎𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩

Aemond targaryen x Reader wife Velaryon

Word count: 3184

Warning: fluffy, Pregnancy.

Pt1 pt3 pt4

Autumn had arrived, bringing with it a cold wind that foretold the imminent arrival of winter. You felt the icy breeze cut through your cloak, forcing you to pull it tighter around your body. Unlike your previous two pregnancies, this one seemed to demand more of you; the weight of the life you carried within was beginning to take its toll. Your back constantly ached, your breasts were tense and sensitive, and your swollen feet barely supported the weight you had to bear.

As you walked through the castle halls, lost in thought, a sudden impact made you stagger. You barely had time to place a hand against the wall to avoid falling. As you looked down, you found Aerion on the ground, his small face lit up by a mischievous smile as he giggled. He quickly got to his feet, energetically brushing off his trousers, unconcerned by the slight reprimand he heard in the distance.

The septa approached hurriedly, a frown on her face and a look of evident disapproval. Her voice echoed through the hall as she called out to Aerion, but before she could reach him, the little prince ran toward you, clinging to your skirt for protection.

“Princess,” the septa greeted, bowing as she saw you. “The maester has insisted that you should return to your bed. Rest is the best thing for you in your condition.” Her stern gaze scrutinized the hallway, searching for the little prince who was now hiding behind you.

“That was just what I was thinking of doing,” you replied calmly, hearing Aerion’s faint laughter as he clung to your skirts.

You watched as the septa walked away down the hall, still calling out to the prince with a mix of patience and firmness. When the septa's figure disappeared from your sight, you slowly turned to Aerion. The boy looked up at you, his cheeks flushed red, still trying to contain the laughter that threatened to spill over.

You couldn’t help but smile at your son’s innocent mischief. Despite the worries weighing on you, Aerion’s joy had the power to dispel any cloud hanging over your day.

“You’re a little rascal,” you said softly, as you gently stroked his head. “But you need to be more careful, you almost made me fall.”

Aerion nodded, and his smile lit up his face, revealing that perfect blend of innocence and mischief that you loved so much in him. Still chuckling softly, he took your hand with his small fingers, his laughter fading into a sigh of contentment.

“I want to stay with you, mama,” he said softly, looking up at you with pleading eyes.

His words filled you with a warm tenderness. You knew you needed to rest, but your son’s desire to stay by your side was a request you could hardly refuse. His company, so sincere and selfless, was a comfort amidst the demanding burden you carried.

You bent down slightly to meet his eyes, looking at him with a maternal smile.

"You can stay with me for a while, but only if you promise to be quiet and let Mama rest," you whispered.

Aerion nodded enthusiastically, squeezing your hand more tightly, as if his desire to be with you was enough to protect you from any discomfort or pain. As you walked together toward your chambers, Aerion began to talk with the spontaneity of childhood, telling you about his lessons and how much they bored him. His voice, full of innocent complaints, filled the hallway.

As you closed the doors of your room behind you, you created a small refuge of tranquility, a space where you could allow yourself a respite from the worries that surrounded you. Aerion, freed from the need to stay calm, released your hand and ran excitedly to the corner where the steaming dragon egg rested on its cradle of metal and glowing stones.

However, a sudden, sharp pain shot through your body, pulling you out of the peaceful moment. The pain radiated from your back to your belly, forcing you to instinctively place your hands on your swollen abdomen in a protective gesture. Reality hit hard when you felt a warm, wet burst, and in that moment, the world seemed to stop.

The sound of your water breaking echoed in the room, like a prolonged reverberation in the silence, as the liquid spilled onto the floor, soaking the ground beneath your feet. An indescribable chill ran down your spine, as if in that precise instant, your soul had tried to leave your body, leaving you momentarily paralyzed.

Aerion, unaware of what had just happened, continued admiring the egg while you tried to gather the strength to stay calm. You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to focus on what you needed to do. You knew there was no time to waste; the birth was imminent.

"Aerion, come here," you called, keeping your voice firm yet gentle, not wanting to alarm him.

Your son turned his head toward you, sensing something unusual in your tone. The joy on his face faded, replaced by concern.

"Mama, what's wrong?" he asked as he walked toward you with small, cautious steps.

"I need you to find the septa and the maester, quickly," you said, caressing his cheek with a trembling hand. "The baby is ready to be born."

With effort, you began to walk slowly toward your bed, each step accompanied by the increasing pain that was becoming more insistent. When you reached the bed, you took a deep breath and called for your ladies, who, upon hearing the urgency in your voice, quickly came to your side. Without wasting a moment, they moved with the precision and skill that only experience could grant, helping you lie down and preparing you for childbirth.

Their hands worked carefully and swiftly, untying the laces and buttons of your dress, changing you into more comfortable garments that would ease the birth. Despite the storm of pain threatening to strip away your calm, their gestures were comforting.

"Take deep breaths, Princess," one of the ladies whispered as she helped you settle into the bed, her voice an anchor of calm amidst the whirlwind of sensations overwhelming you.

The doors to your room burst open, and the maester entered, followed by several midwives, all moving with the speed and efficiency the situation demanded. Aerion, his face full of concern, ran to you, taking your hand in a gesture of support.

"It seems the baby has decided to come early," the maester remarked as the midwives began preparing everything necessary for the birth.

One of the midwives approached with more pillows to support your back, lifting you carefully to relieve the pressure on your belly. But the movement triggered a new wave of pain, and before you could stop it, a cry escaped your lips.

Aerion reacted immediately, his protective instinct awakened by seeing your suffering. He lunged toward the midwife, trying to push her away with his small hand.

"You're hurting her!" he exclaimed, his voice trembling, his eyes filling with tears as he tried to come between you and the midwife.

The midwife, surprised by the child's reaction, paused and looked at you with a mix of respect and concern.

"Calm down, little prince," the midwife said softly, kneeling down to be at Aerion's eye level. "We don't want to hurt your mama. We're only trying to help her feel better."

"Aerion, sweetheart, everything is okay. They’re here to help us," you assured him, trying to calm his agitation.

The contractions came in waves, each one more intense than the last, leaving a trail of pain that spread through your entire body. You gripped the sheets tightly, your knuckles turning white under the tension as you fought to contain the screams of pain threatening to escape your throat. You didn’t want to scare Aerion, who stayed by your side, his small hand clutching yours.

Suddenly, in the midst of the chaos raging in your mind, a familiar voice broke through the torment.

“Y/N,” you heard Aemond call your name.

The sound of his voice was like a balm, a wave of relief that momentarily dispelled the pain. You turned your head, and seeing him, you felt something inside you calm down. Aemond, with an expression of concern tinged with love, quickly approached your side, taking your other hand with the security and firmness you had always known in him.

“I’m here,” he said softly, his eyes locked on yours as his thumb gently caressed your cheek.

Aemond leaned in a little closer, his voice low and reassuring.

“Everything will be alright, my love. I’m here with you.”

You nodded with gratitude, thankful for Aemond’s comforting presence by your side. With each passing contraction, the pain seemed to stretch out in time, as if the hours were elongating into an endless trial. However, the maester, in his firm yet encouraging tone, finally spoke the words you had been waiting for.

“It’s time to push, Princess.”

Those words were both a relief and a new source of fear. You knew the hardest moment was yet to come, and although Aemond had been your constant support, you understood that Aerion’s presence in the room might complicate the situation even further. You needed everything to go well, both for the baby about to be born and for the child who was already the center of your world.

Taking a breath with difficulty, you turned your head toward Aemond, your eyes reflecting the mix of emotions you felt at that moment.

“Aemond,” you whispered, your voice laden with effort, “please take Aerion outside. He needs to stay calm… and so do you.”

Although it was evident he didn’t want to leave you, Aemond understood your concern. With a look that spoke of his desire to stay with you, he leaned in close, brushing your lips with a gentle kiss.

“I’ll be right outside,” he murmured, his words an anchor for your spirit. “I’ll come back as soon as I can.”

With one last squeeze of your hand, he stood up and turned his attention to Aerion, who was still watching the scene with wide, worried eyes. Aemond walked over to his son and took his hand.

“Come, Aerion. Let’s wait outside for a moment,” he said gently.

Aerion hesitated, his eyes searching yours for confirmation. You forced a smile, despite the pain, and nodded, trying to convey confidence.

“Everything will be alright, sweetheart,” you assured him. “We’ll be together again soon.”

The little one, though still concerned, finally agreed, taking his father’s hand as they both headed toward the door. Aemond gave you one last look before leaving.

Once the door closed behind them, the atmosphere in the room changed. The seriousness and focus intensified as the midwives and the maester prepared for the birth. You felt a mix of emotions—fear, anticipation, and a deep determination—all fighting for control of your mind.

The maester leaned in toward you, with a calm expression that contrasted with the intensity of the moment.

“Princess, it’s time,” he said softly, his tone firm yet reassuring. “I need you to push with all your strength.”

You nodded, mentally preparing yourself for what you knew would be the greatest effort of your life. The pain, which had been constant, became even sharper, cutting through your breath as you struggled to follow the maester’s instructions. Your hands gripped the sheets, your muscles tensing in a supreme effort as you pushed with all your being.

The midwives, with quick and precise movements, offered you words of encouragement, their hands working diligently to assist you. You could feel the sweat beading on your forehead, every fiber of your being concentrated on bringing this new life into the world. The minutes stretched on in a succession of contractions and efforts, each more intense than the last, pushing you to the limits of your endurance.

The room, though filled with activity, became a closed and private space, where time seemed to distort. The maester guided you, his words calm and measured, while the midwives supported you, adjusting the pillows and keeping you as comfortable as possible. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of pain and effort, the maester announced that he could see the baby's head.

"One more time, princess, just one more time," he encouraged, his voice filled with contained emotion.

With the little energy you had left, you gathered all your strength and pushed with fierce determination. The pain reached a climax, enveloping you in a whirlwind of sensations until, suddenly, you felt an indescribable relief as the weight you had carried for months finally left your body.

A moment of silence fell over the room, followed by the most beautiful sound you could have imagined: the strong, clear cry of your newborn. Tears filled your eyes as you heard that first sign of life, and the midwives quickly wrapped the baby in warm blankets, bringing him close to you.

"You have been very brave, princess. You have brought a new Targaryen into the world."

With trembling hands and a pounding heart, you took your child into your arms. As you felt his warmth against your chest, all the pain and fatigue faded away, replaced by a love so intense you could hardly contain it. You looked at your baby's face, his soft hair and delicate skin, and in that moment, you knew that every second of effort had been worth it.

Your ladies, discreet and efficient, quickly restored order to the room. They swiftly cleaned the area, replaced the sheets, and helped you into a clean, soft gown. Though exhaustion weighed heavily on you, their careful hands made you feel comfortable, allowing you to focus solely on the little being you held.

One of the ladies took the newborn with great care to clean him, while you rested for a few moments, watching every movement with eyes full of love and wonder. When they returned him to you, wrapped in warm blankets, a wave of overwhelming emotion washed over you.

You looked at the child in your arms, noticing his delicate features, his hair already showing the shine of Targaryen heritage.

"Laenor," you whispered, the name leaving your lips with the softness of a prayer.

It was the name of your father, a man whose memory lived on in your heart, a brave leader and a loving father. Naming your son in his honor felt as natural as breathing.

The door to the room opened gently, and when you turned your head, you saw Aemond and Aerion entering. The little boy, without paying attention to the baby in your arms, ran towards you with the urgency of someone who had been holding back his worry. Aerion threw himself into your arms, and as soon as he did, you felt the warm tears running down his face as he hid his little face in the crook of your neck.

"Why are you crying, my love?" you asked in a whisper, gently stroking his small back while leaning down to leave a soft kiss on his wet cheek. "I'm alright."

Aerion sobbed softly, his little hands clinging to you tightly, as if he needed to make sure you were really there, safe and with him.

"I was scared, Mama," he admitted in a small voice. "I didn’t want anything bad to happen to you."

"I know, my little one," you murmured. "But everything is fine now. I’m here with you, and I'm not going anywhere."

Aemond, who had remained nearby, watched the scene with a mixture of pride and relief. He stepped forward, and with a careful gesture, placed a hand on Aerion’s shoulder, silently giving him support. When Aerion felt his father's presence, he finally looked up, his eyes still shining with the tears he hadn’t been able to hold back.

It was then that Aerion noticed the small figure in your arms. His big, curious eyes filled with wonder as he saw his younger brother for the first time. With the same caution children reserve for what they consider most precious, he approached slowly, almost as if he feared breaking something fragile.

"This is your little brother, Laenor," you said with a smile full of tenderness, gently tilting the newborn so Aerion could get a better look.

The little boy gazed at his brother with a mix of fascination and respect, as if he understood that this moment was sacred. With a timid gesture, he reached out his hand towards the baby, gently brushing his tiny hands.

"Hello, Laenor," Aerion whispered, his voice barely audible.

Aemond, with a look that spoke of pride and relief, leaned towards you, his lips meeting yours in a warm and comforting kiss. The connection between you was immediate, like a reaffirmation of the strength of your bond. You responded to the kiss with equal tenderness, feeling in that gesture a deep gratitude for the family you had built together.

"Mama," a small voice was heard at the entrance, soft but full of excitement.

Vaera appeared in the room, her eyes shining with the news she had just received. She wasn’t alone; Helaena followed closely behind, with her unmistakable aura of sweetness and serenity, smiling warmly at you as she saw you cradling the newborn. Just a step behind, Queen Alicent entered with Vaerys in her arms, her elegant bearing and maternal expression completing the family tableau that now filled the room.

"Look, Vaerys," Alicent said in a gentle tone, approaching so the little one could see the new member of the family. "You have a new little brother."

Vaerys, always curious and observant, looked at the baby with big, wide eyes full of wonder. Alicent leaned down slightly to allow little Vaerys to get a better view of Laenor, while Vaera, not wasting a moment, moved closer to your side, clearly fascinated by her new little brother.

"He’s so tiny," Vaera whispered, extending a small, delicate hand to softly touch Laenor’s cheek, her touch full of affection and care.

"He is," you agreed, your voice softened by the mix of emotions that overwhelmed you. "But he’ll grow strong, just like all of you."

With a smile full of confidence and tenderness, you handed the little Laenor to Aemond, who received him with the same delicacy one would treat a precious jewel. You watched as his hands, normally so skilled with a sword, now held his newborn son with an almost reverent care. In his eye, there was a silent pride, a pride that needed no words to be understood.

Aemond turned towards his mother and sister, bringing the baby closer so they could see him better. Alicent, upon gazing at her grandson, smiled with a warmth that softened her features even more, while Helaena, with her ever-serene gaze, extended a hand to gently caress Laenor’s cheek.

Finally, Aemond returned to your side, and together, you looked at Laenor, surrounded by the love and unity of your family. In that moment, everything seemed to be in its place; the arrival of Laenor had not only brought a new life into the world but had also strengthened the bonds that tied you all together.

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taurasiluvr · 6 months ago

Text

BABY IT AIN'T REALLY CHEATING IF HE DON'T SEE ── BUECKERS⁵

how you can help palestine prequel part three

★ based on dope love by gucci mane. you have an annoying boyfriend who always seems to be jealous of paige. and you've never even given him a reason to not trust you . . . of course not!

⠀ ── ⠀warnings ;; nsfw under the cut, mdni. smut with a little plot, cheating (on irrelevant bf), asshole!paige, fingering, exhibitionism (sorta if that's what you can even call it).

⠀ ── ⠀word count ;; 3.6k

⠀ ── ⠀rylin's notes ;; requests are open for those who want to send them in :p

"you're embarrassing me," the words came out of your mouth, your tone annoyed as you glared up at your boyfriend. you couldn't believe that he asked paige for a 1v1 – and on top of that, he lost.

now he was acting all pissy, pacing back and forth on the court with his hands on his hips. paige, your best friend since forever, stood a few feet away, trying to hide her smirk. obviously, she shouldn't be intimidated by your boyfriend, who was supposed to be confident and supportive, not a sore loser.

"maybe if you hadn't underestimated her," you continued, your voice cutting through his grumbling. "you know how good she is, she's literally d1."

paige smirked slightly as she shrugged, taking a sip out of the red solo cup. "it's just a game, guys. it's not a big deal,"

your boyfriend shot her a glare, then turned to you. "why are you taking her side?"

"cus you're acting like a damn child," you snapped back. "it's not her fault you lost."

your boyfriend’s face flushed an even deeper shade of red. he stopped pacing and turned to face you, his hands still on his hips. the music and laughter from the party around you seemed to fade into the background as his eyes searched yours for any sort of validation.

"i just... didn't think she'd take it so seriously," he mumbled, his voice lacking its usual confidence.

paige chuckled softly, shaking her head. "i didn't take it seriously, man. it's just a game," she repeated, her tone light but her eyes sparkling with a hint of amusement as she glanced at you, licking her lips slightly.

"just a game?" he repeated as he glared at the blonde. "i just got beat by a girl! i'm gonna get absolutely flamed in the groupchat,"

"hey, she's also d1! you don't even play basketball," you retorted, feeling your frustration rise. "it's not like you lost to someone off the street. paige is amazing at this."

"whatever," he muttered, looking away and crossing his arms. "still feels like shit, specially cause you're my girl and shit,"

paige raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the interaction more than she should. "dude, it's just a game. and besides, who cares what your friends think? they'll get over it."

"easy for you to say," he snapped back, his voice growing louder as he began walking toward her. "you didn't just embarrass yourself."

you stepped between them, your patience wearing thin. "enough. you're acting like a sore loser and it's not a good look."

he glared at you, the hurt evident in his eyes. "why are you always defending her? it's like you take her side over mine every fuckin' time."

"because you're acting ridiculous!" you shot back. "paige is my best friend, and you're being unfair to her and to me. this has nothing to do with sides and more to do with you and your weird competition with her."

he clenched his jaw, his eyes flicking back and forth between you and paige. "weird competition? baby, it's obvious she has a thing for you, i mean jesus-"

you immediately let out a groan. "are we really gonna talk about this now, again? i told you-"

"i don't care, she obviously does!" he finally snapped. you grabbed his arm as he continued shouting about whatever he thinks is going on between you the blonde.

paige watched as you dragged your boyfriend to the side, letting out an amused laugh as she shook her head. she went back inside to get a refill, finding aubrey and nika.

"you gotta stop playing with him," nika stifled a laugh as she glanced outside, watching you and your boyfriend laughing. "i feel bad. we all watched him get absolutely obliterated by you."

aubrey laughed, nodding. "that was so fucking embarrassing, my god. i got an ick and i don't even like him."

paige shrugged, a smirk playing on her lips. "can't help that i'm good at basketball. and it's not like i'm doing it on purpose. he's the one who keeps trying to prove himself."

nika shook her head, still grinning. "well, he's definitely not doing himself any favors."

aubrey took a sip from her cup, raising an eyebrow. "you think she's actually gonna stay with him much longer? i mean, look at them."

they all glanced outside where you were still talking animatedly with your boyfriend. his face was red with frustration, while yours was a mix of exasperation and annoyance.

paige sighed, her expression softening a bit. "nah, probably. she deserves someone who doesn't get all insecure and jealous over nothing."

aubrey and nika exchanged looks, their faces entertained. nika spoke up, "paige we're not dumb, we know you've fucked before."

paige shrugged, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. "yeah well... they were on break," she look a sip of her drink as she glanced up at her friends, their expressions unconvinced.

nika raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "on a break, huh? and does he know about this?"

paige hesitated for a moment, then shook her head. "nah, he doesn't."

nika let out a low whistle. "that's risky, paige. he looks like the type to not mind... you know, beating your ass."

paige laughed as she shrugged. "yeah and he's also like, 5'8."

"if he tried, he'd get humbled," aubrey glanced toward her blonde friend, a smirk playing on her lips. "again," she added.

paige chuckled, her confidence unwavering. "exactly. i'm not too worried about him. besides, it's not like it was a regular thing. it was a one-time thing."

nika leaned back, her expression thoughtful. "still, you should be careful. if he finds out, things could get messy."

paige nodded, acknowledging the risk. "yeah, but it's done, and i can't undo it, i just have to handle things as they come."

aubrey took a sip from her drink, her eyes glinting with mischief. "you know, if you play your cards right, you might not have to worry about him for much longer."

"yeah, i know," she smirked as she glanced at you, you were still arguing with your boyfriend. "i know,"

as they continued talking, you and your boyfriend reentered the house, your faces still showing signs of the recent argument. paige watched as you tried to shake off the tension, joining your friends and attempting to immerse yourself in the party's atmosphere.

nika leaned in, whispering to paige, "think she'll be okay?"

Paige nodded, her eyes following you as you made your way to the group. "she's a big girl, i don't think she cares as much she pretends to."

you approached, giving paige a grateful smile. "hey, guys. sorry about that."

aubrey waved it off, her demeanor light and carefree. "no worries. we're just glad you're back."

nika chimed in, "yeah, we missed you. come on, let's have some fun."

you felt a wave of relief wash over you as your friends welcomed you back with open arms. paige stayed close, her presence a steady comfort. the rest of the night passed in a blur of laughter and camaraderie, the earlier tension fading into the background.

⠀ ── ⠀

"and he's so damn clingy, it gets on my nerves," you resisted an eyeroll as you spoke, doing your night time routine in the foggy mirror. paige stood behind you, her hands on your hips and her chin on your shoulder, watching you through the reflection.

"yeah?" she mumbled as you nodded. her hair was wet from the shower, her eyes were red from the exhaustion of the whole day but right now – she didn't feel a tinge of weariness.

you sighed, putting down your toothbrush and meeting paige's eyes in the mirror. "yeah, it’s like he always needs to know where i am, what i’m doing, who i’m with. It’s suffocating."

paige grip on your hips tightened slightly, her presence grounding you. "sounds exhausting," she murmured, her voice gentle. "you deserve to feel free, not like you’re constantly under surveillance."

you nodded, leaning back into her embrace. "exactly. and tonight... all that jealousy over a basketball game? it's just too much."

paige pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, her breath warm against your skin. "you deserve better than that. someone who trusts you and supports you, not someone who’s always questioning you."

you turned to face her, her hands sliding around to rest on the small of your back. "i know. it’s just hard. we've been together for a while, and i don’t wanna hurt him. but i can’t keep going like this."

paige's eyes softened, her thumb brushing gently against your side as her hands slid down them. "you have to take care of yourself first. it’s not selfish to want to be happy."

you smiled as her eyes dilated, her tongue sticking out to wet her lips. "he needs to trust you, cause... you know, you are," paige's voice came out teasing.

you let out a playful scoff as you pushed her away, a smirk playing on your lips. "gonna bring that up again, p?"

"what?" she laughed as her hands made their way back to your hips. "really gonna tell that i didn't rock your world? you were crying and everything, my ego's never gonna that go."

"i know," you felt your cheeks heat up, a blush creeping up your neck. "don't need to remind me every chance you get."

paige's laughter was warm and genuine as she pulled you closer again, her forehead resting against yours. "just making sure you remember,"

you rolled your eyes, but your smile widened. "how could i forget? you never let me."

"and i never will," you turned back around, continuing your routine. "i still think about it, you know?"

paige's smirk widened as she saw the seriousness in your expression through the foggy reflection. "yeah?"

"yeah," you repeated as you met her eyes through the reflection. "all the time."

there was a moment of silence as you continued your routine, paige was lost in thought as she zoned out. "does he fuck you like i do?"

the question came out of nowhere and you almost choked on the mouthwash. you spit out and paige watched your expression carefully. the air in the bathroom seemed to thicken as you processed her words, unsure of how to respond.

paige's gaze held yours steadily, her expression unreadable yet intense. she seemed to be searching for something in your reaction, her smirk fading into a more serious demeanor.

"no, he doesn't."

paige's smirk immediately came back with the answer, her hands pulling you into her chest. "yeah, i knew that."

she didn't any more of an answer, her lips found your shoulder as she began kissing up to your neck. as her lips found the sensitive spot just below your ear, your head spun with a whirlwind of emotions. the familiarity of her touch, coupled with the depth of your connection, ignited a fire within you that burned brighter than ever before.

paige's hands roamed gently over your back, her touch leaving a trail of tingling sensations in its wake.

her breath tickled your skin as she whispered against your ear, her voice husky with desire. "gonna do you so good, baby,"

as paige’s breath sent shivers down your spine, her words were a promise, igniting a flame of anticipation within you. you turned in her embrace, your eyes meeting hers with a mix of longing and uncertainty. paige's gaze softened, her fingers trailing lightly up your arms to cup your face.

“i’ve missed you,” she murmured, her thumb brushing tenderly across your cheek.

“i’ve missed you too,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

the tension between you was palpable, the weight of unspoken feelings hanging in the air. paige leaned in, her lips capturing yours in a slow, deliberate kiss that sent a rush of warmth through your body. you melted into her, your hands finding their way to her damp hair, pulling her closer.

paige's kiss deepened, her hands sliding down your back to grip your hips, anchoring you to her. the taste of mint lingered on your lips from the mouthwash, mingling with the familiar flavor of her.

with a gentle push, paige guided you back against the sink, her lips never leaving yours. her hands explored your body with a familiarity that made your heart race, every touch a reminder of the history you shared. as her kisses trailed down your neck, you let out a soft moan, your fingers tangling in her hair.

“oh p,” you breathed, your voice a mix of need and desperation.

she paused, lifting her head to meet your gaze, her eyes dark with desire. “tell me what you want, baby.”

“want you,” you confessed, your cheeks flushing with the raw honesty of your words.

paige's lips curved into a satisfied smile, her hands slipping under your shirt to caress the bare skin of your waist. “you’re going to have me, princess.”

with a swift motion, she lifted you into her arms as she carried you to your bed. her mouth claimed yours again, the kiss hungry and demanding. your fingers fumbled with the hem of her shirt, desperate to feel more of her as she dropped you on the bed.

paige broke the kiss long enough to pull her shirt over her head, her eyes never leaving yours. her bare chest pressed against yours as she kissed you again, her hands working to slide off your shorts. you arched into her touch, the sensation of her hands on you sending waves of pleasure through your body.

as your shorts hit the floor, paige's fingers found their way to your core, teasing you through the fabric of your underwear. you gasped, your hips bucking against her hand, craving more. paige's smirk returned, her thumb circling your clit with agonizing slowness.

she pushed you further up the bed, her body following closely as she settled between your legs. paige's eyes never left yours, her gaze intense and filled with desire. her fingers continued their slow, torturous teasing, making you writhe beneath her.

“paige, please,” you begged, your voice a desperate whisper.

her smirk softened into a sweet smile, and she leaned down to press a kiss to your lips. “love hearing you beg,” she murmured against your mouth before trailing kisses down your neck, her hands slipping beneath your underwear to finally touch your bare skin.

with a gentle but firm touch, she slid your underwear down, her fingers finding their way to your wetness. you moaned, your head falling back as she began to pleasure you, her movements deliberate and skilled. paige knew exactly how to drive you insane, her fingers curling inside you in a rhythm that had you teetering on the edge.

you let out a shuddering breath, your body arching into her touch. she set a steady rhythm, her thumb circling your clit in time with the thrusts of her fingers. every stroke sent waves of pleasure crashing through you, each one more intense than the last.

your hands tangled in her hair, pulling her closer as she kissed her way down your body. her lips left a trail of fire on your skin, each touch igniting a deeper desire within you. when she reached your breasts, her mouth closed over one nipple, sucking and nibbling gently.

the dual sensations of her mouth and her fingers had you spiraling quickly towards the edge. your breaths came in short gasps, your body trembling with the effort to hold back.

then, your phone began buzzing next to you. you let out an annoyed huff – you already knew who it was. you chose to ignore it, but paige had other plans.

"answer it, princess," she mumbled as she sat up, meeting your gaze.

you stared at her, bewildered, your body still trembling from her touch. "paige," you whispered, a mix of frustration and disbelief in your voice.

paige's eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned in, her lips brushing your ear. "answer it," she repeated, her voice low and commanding. "want him to hear how good i make you feel."

your heart raced, both from the lingering pleasure and the audacity of her request. with trembling hands, you reached for the phone, your eyes never leaving paige's. she watched you intently, her fingers still moving slowly inside you, maintaining the agonizing pleasure.

you hit the answer button, bringing the phone to your ear. "hello?" you managed to say, your voice shaky.

your boyfriend's voice came through the line, filled with concern and irritation. "where are you? why haven't you answered my texts?"

paige's smirk widened, and she pressed a kiss to your shoulder, her fingers quickening their pace slightly. you bit your lip to stifle a moan, your head falling back against the pillow.

"'m... busy," you replied, your voice strained.

"busy? doin' what?" he demanded, suspicion lacing his words.

paige’s other hand moved to tease your nipple, her thumb flicking over it with expert precision. you let out a soft gasp, unable to hold it back. "just... with friends, we're at my..." you managed to say, your breath hitching. "apartment,"

there was a pause on the other end of the line, your boyfriend clearly picking up on the unusual tone in your voice. "you okay? you sound... different."

paige's lips curled into a wicked smile, her fingers curling inside you, hitting just the right spot. you couldn't help the moan that escaped your lips, your body arching into her touch. "oh fuck," you let out before you sighed, putting a hand over your mouth.

"i'm fine," you lied, your voice trembling. "just... having a good time."

Your boyfriend’s voice grew more insistent. "where are you? i want to see you."

paige leaned closer, her breath hot against your ear as she whispered, "tell him you're with me."

you swallowed hard, trying to focus on the conversation despite the overwhelming sensations. "'m with paige," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

"paige?" he repeated, his tone a mix of confusion and frustration. "what the hell is going on?"

"nothing!" you shouted, the frustration overtaking your senses. "my god, let me fucking breathe. we're just watching a movie and we're tired, can't get a second alone,"

paige's smirk grew as she listened to your conversation, her fingers still teasing you, maintaining a torturous pace that kept you on the edge. she nibbled gently on your neck, her breath warm against your skin, and you fought to keep your voice steady.

on the other end of the line, your boyfriend’s frustration was palpable. “why didn’t you just say that? you’ve been acting so weird lately.”

You took a shaky breath, trying to focus on the words and not the intense pleasure paige was giving you. “i’m not acting weird. just need some space sometimes.”

“space? is that what you call ignoring my calls and hanging out with paige all the time?” he snapped.

paige fingers quickened slightly, pushing you closer to the edge, beginning to completely finger-fuck you. you bit your lip to stifle a moan, your hips bucking involuntarily. “’m not ignoring you,” you said through gritted teeth, trying to sound convincing. “i think i just… need a break.”

“a break?” he echoed, his voice growing louder. “what kind of break?”

paige leaned in, her voice a whisper in your ear. “tell him you’re taking a break from him.”

you swallowed hard, the words sticking in your throat. “think we need a break,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“what?” he shouted, disbelief and anger mingling in his tone. “are you fucking serious?”

“yeah,” you said more firmly, finding your resolve.

he began shouting but you were too engulfed in her fingers, your breaths coming out in shudders. the phone fell out of your hand as you moaned, your back arching into her touch.

paige chose that moment to push you over the edge, her fingers and lips working in perfect harmony to send you spiraling into a powerful orgasm. you cried out, your body shaking with the force of it, the annoyed shouts still coming from the phone.

paige caught the phone, her eyes locking with yours as she brought it to her ear. "she busy right now," she said, her tone unapologetic and firm. "she'll call you in the morning,"

with that, she ended the call, tossing the phone aside as she gathered you in her arms. you were still trembling, your body buzzing with the aftershocks of your orgasm. paige's touch was gentle now, soothing as she held you close.

"you gonna call him in the morning?" she teased as you laid on her chest. you stifled a laugh as you shook your head.

"probably, he's probably crying right now."

she shrugged, "i would too if i lost a bad bitch like you,"

you couldn't help but smile at her words, a warmth spreading through your chest. "you're ridiculous," you murmured, nuzzling closer into her embrace.

paige's fingers traced soothing patterns on your back, her touch comforting and tender. "yeah, but you love it," she replied, her voice soft.

you sighed contentedly, letting the calm after the storm wash over you. "yeah, i do."

you stayed like that for a long time, wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world fading away. eventually, the exhaustion of the day caught up with you, and your eyes grew heavy.

"get some sleep," paige murmured, her voice a gentle lullaby. "we'll figure everything out in the morning."

you nodded sleepily, feeling safe and secure in her arms. "goodnight, p."

"goodnight, beautiful," she whispered, holding you close as you drifted off to sleep.

if you enjoyed, any interaction is greatly appreciated!

with love, rylin 𝜗𝜚

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yam-writes · 1 year ago

Text

baby, show me what it's like

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

summary: you were honestly thinking about quitting your job as a secretary at a police station, but then a new hire made you change your mind.

word count: 11k

warnings: 18+, smut, subby!leon, rookie!leon, virgin!leon, oral (m!receiving), dirty talk, semi public sex, flirting, teasing, talks of masturbation

a/n: he's such a good boy <333 part 2? song from need to know by doja cat

You stared down at the piles of documents in front of you. Part of being a secretary at a police station was doing all of the paperwork that the officers didn’t want to do. It was exhausting, just staring at a million tiny words, scrubbing through legal terms that you had to teach yourself what they meant, and signing initials and names that weren’t even yours on dotted lines. If you wanted to keep the job, though, you had to put up with it. They paid well and honestly you couldn’t be bothered to search for another job. Plus, it came with perks and benefits.

It would’ve been an added bonus that you got to stare at men in their uniforms all day, but most of their personalities were so awful that you couldn’t even find them attractive anymore. They were only nice to you when they conveniently forgot that you had already told them you wouldn’t let them hit. They were gross and mean and tiring to be around. Honestly, only a few months ago, you were just about to give up and call it quits.

But then they hired someone new.

Rookie Leon Kennedy, fresh out of the police academy. He was the talk of the station for a week before he even arrived. Apparently he was the top of his class, strong, always hit the targets in the practice range, aced every exam, and blew the physical portion out of the waters. He was a diamond in the rough, an ace, good at everything he did and worked extremely hard to get better at whatever it was that he wasn’t already good at.

To you he sounded like he was going to be just another asshole, so whenever you heard anyone talking about him, you just rolled your eyes. That included hearing some of the other secretaries squealing about how “handsome and attractive that new rookie is.”

How wrong you turned out to be.

You were sitting at the front desk of the station one Monday morning. You were vaguely aware that it was Leon’s first day, but you were swamped with paperwork, so you honestly didn’t think too much about it. That is, until you looked up when you heard the front door open and laid eyes on the cutest boy you had ever seen. Your mouth fell open slightly and you had to physically clench your jaw to make sure that it didn’t drop onto the floor.

He had dirty blonde hair that was cropped around his ears, his bangs teetering on the edge of falling over his face. His brows were slightly furrowed, but his expression wasn’t mean on account of his chubby cheeks and soft jawline making him look so squishy. His eyes were full of childlike wonder as he walked into the station, looking around and checking out the area. He was tall, his body wide, his strength evident even through the uniform that he wore. His arms were danling at his sides, his fingers bending up and down, his thumb attempting to crack knuckles that didn’t need to be cracked. You watched his chest heave as he breathed through his mouth, his Adam’s apple bouncing as he swallowed.

You really thought you were going to pass out. You felt your heart threaten to jump out of your chest in the most cartoonish way possible. You were positive that anyone who was around could see it beating through your ribcage, its fast beat pulsating your entire body. Butterflies built up in your tummy, shooting down between your legs as you watched him scan the area. When his eyes landed on you and he gave you a big, bright smile, you were sure that you were actually going to pass out right then and there.

If your pupils could have transformed, they would’ve been in the shape of hearts as you watched him walk towards you. When he was almost upon you, you finally regained your composure and cleared your throat, looking down at the stack of papers. You grabbed them, tapping them against the desk in an attempt to pretend that you were straightening them out so that it looked like you were doing something other than ogling at this man. Your head was spinning as he finally reached you, your mind full of thoughts of all the things you wanted to do to him.

“Hi!” he said, straightening up, raising his hand and giving a small wave before glancing down and then dropping his hand. “I’m Leon Kennedy.” He looked into your eyes, his lips twitching slightly as he did. A small crop of blush covered the apples of his cheeks and he dropped his eyes, looking down at the wooden desk and clearing his throat.

“I’m, uh, new here,” he said, his voice getting more quiet and slightly breathier. As he spoke, he poked his tongue against his top teeth causing him to have a small lisp. You were immediately filled with an overwhelming urge to reach over the desk and pinch his cute cheeks. You felt like you were looking at a little puppy. You leaned forward, your lips curling up into a smirk as you tried your best to listen to what he was saying.

“I was just hired, so, uh, I don’t really know what to do or anything…” He cleared his throat, his eyes blinking rapidly as he swallowed. “I’m kind of nervous,” he said, raising his hand to rub the back of his neck and huffing out a breathy chuckle. He looked up at you again, giving you a sheepish smile.

If you were being honest, though, you weren’t really listening to him. You were tracing the cage of his throat with your eyes, noting the mole that laid beside his Adam’s apple as well as the others that were scattered around his face and neck. You were memorizing every mark on his face, every small acne that dotted his jaw and cheek. You were studying how his biceps fulled up his sleeves completely, thinking about how his big hands would fit perfectly on the curves of your waist. You were raising your pen to your mouth and letting your gaze travel down further, staring at how his thighs were squeezing around the fabric of his pants. You were chewing on the tip of the pen as you allowed your eyes to travel to the center of his body, picturing what he could be hiding behind the buckle of his belt.

You did happen to hear him say that he was nervous, and that piqued your interest. You looked up, looking at his face that had gotten a lot more red. He was rubbing his palms against the sides of his pants, clearing his throat every few seconds. As you kept your eyes on his, you saw his lips part and then he moved his hands, clasping them in front of himself. You let out a small giggle, leaning forward even more, pushing your chest together with your arms as you leaned onto the desk. It was clear that he was flustered, and that only made the horny part inside your brain ramp up even more.

“Don’t be nervous!” you said, looking at him up and down. He shifted his weight between his feet. “We’re all really nice here.” You lowered your voice, trying to make it sound as seductive as possible.

Leon’s mouth fell open and you heard a small sound come out from his throat.

“Of course!” he exclaimed, raising his hands out in front of him. “I-I didn’t mean it like that!” He cleared his throat and looked away, his eyes glancing down at your chest for a split second before widening slightly and shifting to the floor. “I-I’m sure you’re all very nice…” He raised his hand to rub the back of his neck, his cute face full of a look of slight embarrassment. You smiled wider at him. “I-I just meant… Well, I mean, I’m just a nervous person, I guess.” He let out another nervous laugh, and snuck a glance up at you.

“Mhm,” you hummed, looking him up and down once again before leaning back in your chair. “Anything I can do to help you calm down, Mr. Kennedy?” You looked up at him with faux innocence.

Leon stared at you for a second, his lips parting slightly. Thenn, he regained his composure and cleared his throat, shaking his head and chuckling at himself.

“No, probably not,” he confessed, his voice breathy. He had a cute, boyish smile on his face, once that was full of actual innocence. You wanted to ride him until he cried.

“I’ll calm down eventually,” he continued, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You shook your head lightly, trying to reign yourself in. Leon was adorable, but you had to try and calm down. It wasn’t like you could just jump over the desk and ravish him- as much as you wanted to.

“It was, uh…” Leon began, choking up on his sentence and swallowing. He turned even more red. “It was really kind of you to offer to help. And for being so nice. Um…”

He had been looking into your eyes and you started licking your lips as you paid attention to him. The blush creeped down his face, covering his jaw and neck. He let out a small noise, which sounded almost like a whimper, as his body shifted. He cleared his throat once again and shook his head, his eyebrows furrowing at himself. He looked extremely flustered. You loved it. You smiled even bigger at him, watching as he swayed his arms back and forth, trying to hide the fact that he was covering the front of his pants.

“If, um…” Leon said, trying to keep the conversation going even through his flusteredness. You admired his determination to keep talking, but you also figured he was just blabbering because he was so nervous. Either way, you couldn’t stop thinking about making him continue to speak even as you were touching his dick. Hell, you even wanted to get under a desk in the office that you knew he was going to get and blow him as he tried his best to keep a conversation going with the chief.

“If everyone here is like you,” Leon continued, his voice breathy, obviously trying to push his words out of his mouth. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Your heart was in your throat, your tongue not staying still in your mouth as you licked your lips, pulling the bottom one between your teeth. “If everyone here is like you, then I think it’ll be a good job.”

You looked up at his face, watching his breathing speed up and his eyes refuse to stay still. He was looking every except at you, but you could see him sneaking glances your way to see your reaction about what he had just said. His attempt at flirting… wasn’t very good. Rookie Leon Kennedy was awkward and nervous and shy. But something about him was so charming. His awkwardness was making your heart swell. His naivety and innocence was making your head spin. You wanted to get in his pants so bad, explore his body, make him feel better than he had ever felt before. You wanted to hear his shy moans and watch his hands twitch as he tried to keep himself composed, but ultimately failing. You wanted to tear him apart.

“Mr. Kennedy,” you said, looking into his eyes and giving him a cheeky smile, “there’s no one else here like me.” You gave him a playful smile, tilting your head as you looked up at him to make your point clear. “You’ll figure that out soon enough.”

Leon’s head nodded absentmindedly, his mouth open as he stared at you. He listened intently, reacting to all of your words. You already knew he would be such a good boy.

“I believe you,” he said shyly, his voice low. He looked down, a small smile on his face. You had never seen anyone so red before.

There was a beat of silence as you stared at Leon, watching his obvious nervousness. You raised the pen to your mouth again, chewing idly as you stared at him, undressing him with your eyes. After a few seconds, he flanked up, looking at you with big eyes through his lashes. His lips were pink and wet, and you felt the knots in your stomach tightening as you thought about how good he must be at giving head. You found yourself swaying, practically fucking him with your eyes. His body moved too, shifting, his face twitching and his nostrils flaring. There was something in the air, tension that he definitely didn’t know what to do with. You let it sit, enjoying the sight of him being so flustered.

Then, far too soon, it was broken.

“Kennedy!” a gruff voice said, pulling both of you out of whatever trance you were in.

You turned your head, watching as the chief walked up to the desk and clapped Leon on the shoulder. He jumped slightly, clearing his throat and turning around. His face was shocked and nervous, obviously worried that the chief would catch him doing… whatever it was he was just doing. You were sure he didn’t even know, his mind racing about all the possibilities of what could’ve just happened. He was so cute.

“Y-yes, sir?” Leon said, ever so polite.

The chief’s eyes shifted to yours, and a look spread across his face that you couldn’t quite place. You ignored him, though, only giving him a nod and a small smile as you sat back in your seat, turning your head back down to the paperwork in front of you.

He cleared his throat and shifted his eyes back to Leon. “Come with me, young man, I’ll show you around.”

“Yes, sire,” Leon said again, nodding like an obedient puppy.

His focus was now completely on the chief, intent on impressing him and doing his job well. As he listened to whatever stupid story that the chief was beginning to tell as they started walking away, Leon snuck as glanced at you. He gave you a small, shy smile and a nod of his head, and you returned the favor. You raised your hand and wiggled your fingers at him, waving flirtatiously. His eyes widened and his mouth fell open, turning his head away from you nervously. You giggled out, not taking your eyes off of him.

You watched him walk away beside the chief. As he went, his hands didn’t leave the front of his pants. But clasping his hands in front of him didn’t stop his boner from being visible from the side. You saw the tent pitched in his pants, the fabric poking against his first in front of him. His bulge was… big, to say the least. It was obvious that he wasn’t even half hard; he was rocking a complete erection. He was obviously really sensitive. You hadn’t even touched him, had barely even flirted with him, and he was already squeezing his eyes shut to get his dick to go down. You could practically feel your mouth watering as you looked at it, your imagination going wild thinking about how big he had to be.

When he had walked through a door and disappeared further into the building you finally looked away. You sighed, staring down at the paperwork in front of you. You let out a small laugh as you looked at it. Maybe I’ll stick around here a little longer, you thought, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth to suppress a smile.

After that, you started enjoying your job significantly more. All of the paperwork and the annoying men were worth it because you got to see Leon everyday. You spoke to him any chance you could get, which honestly wasn’t a lot. He was busy going on patrol and sitting in on meetings and helping with small cases and whatever else rookie cops got up to. You caught him sometimes when he was coming into and leaving the station. Every time you would give him a big smile and a wave. He would always blush bright red and give you a shaky smile as he cleared his throat and looked away. More than once did you catch his breathing getting heavier.

Still, though, at first you did try to keep a safe distance from him. You didn’t want to push any boundaries and make him actually uncomfortable, so you managed to control yourself enough to not pounce on him anytime you saw him. However, once you caught him staring at you, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth, you decided that you could amp it up a little bit.

You started making sure that you could run into him any chance that you could get. Instead of just giving him a smile, you spoke to him, keeping your voice light and breathy. You stood close to him, placing your hands on his arm, admiring how small they were compared to him. You leaned in close, pressing your body against his as you looked up at him through your lashes. You licked your lips as he talked, watching the apples of his cheeks turn red and his lips blush pink. You listened to the way his voice got breathy and watched as he squeezed his eyes shut and took deep breaths and got so flustered just from some heavy flirting.

Admittedly, it was probably torture for the poor guy. You were really going hard with the flirting- calling him strong, telling him he’s so good at his job, complimenting him on everything, rubbing your hands on his biceps, tapping against your lips, fucking him with your eyes, and anything else that you could think of that would drive him crazy because you thought he looked so good when he was all flustered. You would drop things on the ground just so that you would have to bend down and pick them up in front of him. You even made it a point to get a bag of lollipops and suck on them, circling your tongue on the candy anytime he was around, making eye contact with him while still pretending to be as innocent as possible.

It was obvious that he liked it. You could hear the way he got all nervous and you could see the way his hands got clammy and you noticed every time his eyes scanned your body, looking at every sensitive part of you. You saw the way he stared at you when he thought you weren’t looking. You even noticed the slight palming of his dick he did when he was sitting behind his desk as you spoke to the chief in front of his office. You saw the way his eyebrows furrowed and he stared in anger as you spoke to any of the other officers. You saw his hands clench into fists and his face turn red as stared intently at whoever you were talking to until you glanced up at him. His face softened when he made eye contact, and he looked desperate for your attention, but he was still trying to be respectful. It was all so cute. Everything he did was so cute.

It all built up over the next few months, and every time you thought about Leon you couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together behind the front desk. You touched yourself to the thought of him, thinking about his rough hands grabbing your waist and his thick fingers thrusting in and out of you. You got off just by thinking about how pretty he would look lying flat on his back, his cock stiff and standing at attention, whimpering and squirming as you licked up and down his shaft, not letting him cum until you said so. God, you wanted him so fucking bad.

A few months after Leon started working at the station, you had to stay late to finish up some paperwork that an officer shoved off onto you. It was a lot because the case was big, and even though he didn’t really do anything, he was getting all the credit for it, which meant lots of documents. Which, of course, meant that you had to be the one to do it. And, to make matters worse, he waited until the last possible moment to try and get it finished, so it all had to be written out and signed by the next day, which meant that you had to stay late.

You didn’t want to take work home with you, so you got caught up in trying to get it finished before leaving. You didn’t even realize it was so late until you finally signed on the last dotted line and dropped your pen. You stretched in your chair, looking around at the empty station. Most of the lights had been turned off, so you sat in the dim lighting. Honestly, it was almost scary. You grabbed your phone and looked at the time- 11:38 pm. Jesus Christ, you thought. This took longer than expected.

Your eyes were heavy as you pushed yourself back in your seat, grabbing at your things to gather them up. You were completely focused on packing up that you were only vaguely aware of the footsteps that you heard from behind you. You figured it was just the nighttime janitor or security guard walking around, but then you heard a voice that made all the stress of the day wash away from you completely.

“Oh, you’re finished?” you heard from behind you.

You immediately knew that it was Leon’s voice. You could pinpoint his even tone and deep range out of any lineup. You had spent the last few months memorizing the sound of it. You felt your heartbeat pound against your chest and excitement fill up your head. You turned around, unable to stop the smile from spreading across your face as you faced him.

He was standing in front of the desk awkwardly, shifting on his feet and fumbling with his own hands. He was looking at you, his eyes not staying in one spot, moving around as he avoided looking into your eyes. His eyelids were heavy and his hair was slightly flat. He looked tired, and honestly all you wanted to do was wrap him up in your arms and make him cum so hard so he could fall asleep. You wanted to play with his hair and rub his back and kiss his shoulders. You wanted to hide him under your blanket and keep him in your bed away from the world.

You blinked, trying to pull yourself back to reality.

“Yeah,” you said, giving Leon a friendly smile and sighing, gesturing towards the paperwork. “Just got done with all of this. It was a pain.” You let out a laugh and looked back up at him. You tilted your head and raised an eyebrow, looking at him quizzically. “What are you still doing here?” you asked.

“O-oh,” Leon said, nervously. “Well, just, you know, the same as you. Getting some work finished.” You could see a few beads of sweat lining his forehead. He raised his hand and rubbed the back of his neck.

Your mouth twitched as you stared at him, your smile threatening to turn into something that wasn’t just friendly.

“Well, isn’t it convenient that we got finished at the same time!” you exclaimed, teasing him about the fact that you knew he wasn’t telling the truth. You knew as much as the next guy that there wasn’t anything Leon could’ve been doing that would make him have to stay this late. You made a mental note to pry the true reasoning out of him later, but for now, you had something else on your mind.

“Y-yeah,” Leon breathed out, letting out a huffy laugh.

You let your eyes drift down his body. He had already gained some muscle weight since being there. He always wanted to stay on top of everything, working out and keeping his body exercised. If he was strong before, he was surely a brute now. It was so cute, though, because his body was so fit and toned, but his actions made him seem almost like a little kid. You wanted to just eat him up. Something inside you broke, and you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore. It had been a long day. What better way to destress than to fool around with the most adorable boy in the world?

“Hey, Leon,” you said, your voice peaking slightly.

He perked up, looking up at you like a puppy whose owner had just called his name. You had to hold yourself back from jumping over the desk.

“I was gonna go get a coffee from the break room before I left- you know, to keep myself awake,” you continued. Leon stared at you wide eyes as he listened intently. “Do you wanna join me?”

Leon swallowed and let out a choked noise. He honestly looked like he was about to throw up, but he nodded rapidly and choked out, “Y-yes! I wanna come.” Then, his eyes widened in horror as he raised his hands and clarified. “I mean, I wanna go with you! To the break room. I wanna go.”

You let out an adoring laugh and looked down, feeling your face blush from his words and actions. You nodded and then made your way around the desk, leaving your things lying on top of it. You stood beside Leon, his body language awkward, unsure of how to navigate the situation that he was in. You smiled at him. He was so endearing. You reached out and wrapped your hands around one of his arms, leaning against him. His body tensed up and you heard him hold his breath. You giggled up at him, and then began walking, pulling him along by his arm.

You dragged Leon away from the front desk and down the hallway towards the first floor break room. You made casual conversation as you walked, asking him how his day was and smiling up at him as he stuttered out all that he got up to. He started rambling about his day, getting really into his words. You hung onto his arm as he waved his hand around, using them as he explained. He was really endearing, and you couldn’t stop the butterflies from fluttering in your tummy- and this time you felt like they might mean a little more than just wanting to get in the boy’s pants.

When you reached the door of the break room, you turned around and slid your hands down Leon’s arm, grabbing his hand and pulling him into the room with a smile. You watched him suck in a breath of air before you let go of his hand and turned around, heading to the coffee machine. As you reached the counter, though, you felt Leon’s presence behind you. He grabbed you, his fingers softly wrapping around your wrist.

“I can do it!” he exclaimed, probably a little louder than what he meant. You turned around and looked up at him, a smirk tugging on your lips as you saw his face. His eyes were furrowed and his lips were pressed tight in determination. It was so cute how much he wanted to do this for you- something as small as making coffee.

God, you wanted to choke on his dick so badly.

You gave him a nod, not taking your eyes off of him as you said, “Thank you. You’re so sweet, Leon.”

He looked down shyly, the corners of his mouth twitching. You saw him shuffle, kicking his feet lightly.

“It’s no big deal,” he mumbled shyly.

You looked at him in adoration, and then turned around. You sat down at the table, staring at Leon as he turned around and began messing with the coffee machine. You watched as his back flexed in his button down, the fabric stretching as he moved his arms. His shoulders bounced up and down. You were completely mesmerized. He had the most perfect body you had ever seen. Before you could stop yourself- not that you even wanted to- your mouth was moving.

“You’re so strong, Leon,” you said, leaning forward and resting your chin on your hand. “All the other rookies they’ve hired have been like shrimp.” You let out a small laugh.

You heard Leon let out a shuddered breath. He finished with the machine and then turned around. He looked at you, giving you a sheepish smile. He shrugged his shoulders, clearly embarrassed by the compliment. He looked down at the floor, only glancing up at you through his lashes.

“I’m not really all that strong…” he said, a smile tugging on his lips. “I, uh, I mean I work out and stuff, but,” he let out a genuine laugh, his face lighting up slightly. He looked up at you, giving you a boyish grin. “I also like to eat,” he said, playfully.

“I think you look good,” you said, matter-of-factly. You pushed yourself up and stepped over towards Leon. You kept some distance, but only a bit. You glanced down at his lips, licking yours as you did.

“R-really?” Leon asked, clearly surprised.

“Mhm,” you hummed, swaying closer to him, but letting your chests touch. You reached your hands out gently and slid them down his arms, giving his biceps a squeeze. “You’ve got really nice arms.” You looked up into his wide and nervous eyes, giving him a cheeky smile. “They’re so big.”

Leon let out a choked noise and a small whimper. You watched his Adam’s apple bounce as he swallowed. You smiled at him, happy with where this was going and the fact that he wasn’t pulling away. You took the opportunity to lean closer, pressing your bodies together. You could feel his already half hard cock against you, and it took your breath away. The bulge was already big and firm as it pressed against your thigh, and you had to physically stop yourself from grinding against it. Instead, you looked up at his flushed face and gave him a reassuring smile.

“Do you have anything else that’s big, Leon?” you asked, your voice teasing.

Leon swallowed a lump in his throat and immediately started sputtering. “Uh… Um… I- uh…”

He looked around, clearly trying to avoid eye contact. He was so nervous and flustered, so inexperienced and innocent. It was so cute watching him devolve into such a mess so fast. You wanted to ruin him even more.

“Well, I, uh…” He cleared his throat, but it sounded more like he was just trying not to choke. “My, uh, m-my… My dick!” he finally said, looking at you with an attempt of confidence.

You almost choked as he made his exclamation. You looked up at his face, seeing his obvious shyness that he was trying to force himself not to feel. You let out a laugh and pushed yourself away, looking at him up and down with a raised eyebrow.

“You know, I really thought you were gonna say your heart,” you commented.

“That too!” Leon proclaimed, shifting against the counter. He was barely leaning against it anymore, instead standing on his legs, slouching slightly so that he wouldn’t be as tall as he really was. You noticed he did that a lot.

I’m gonna have to do a lot of work to get this boy’s confidence up, you thought, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

You pulled back slightly, placing your hand over his heart, feeling the fast beating pound against your palm. He stared at you, his eyes wide and his mouth hung open. You slid your hand down his torso, feeling his tummy suck in as you glided your fingertips across it. You kept eye contact as you reached his pants, tugging on his belt.

“Can I see?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

Leon nodded his head immediately, but then he looked away, his eyes shifting down to his feet.

“I-I wanna show you, but I…” He took a deep breath, furrowing his brows, looking upset at himself. “I’m nervous,” he said, quietly.

“Leon,” you cooed his name, tilting your head and looking at him with a face full of sympathy. “You don’t have to be nervous.” You didn’t move your hand from his belt, keeping your fingers shoved slightly behind it, feeling his tummy bump against your knuckles as he breathed hard.

“I just… I don’t have much, uh, e-experience,” Leon stuttered, his mind moving faster than his mouth could keep up with. “So, I-I don’t really k-know what to- um- what to do…” He glanced up at you in anticipation, nervous for your response.

Your heart swelled as you heard him. You really thought you were going to pass out. You knew that Leon was a little shy, but you didn’t think he’d have “not a lot of experience.” You just assumed he was one of those guys that got a lot of pussy because of how awkward he was. You knew it was working on you and he wasn’t even trying. You couldn’t believe that you were going to get to be the one to give him more experience, get to be the one to make him feel good, get to be the one to get him addicted to getting his dick touched. Your head was swimming, but you tried to stay focused.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said gently, giving Leon a soft smile. “You don’t have to do anything except sit back and feel good.”

He stared at you, his eyes shifting down to your lips as he licked his own. He took a deep breath and then asked, “Can- can I kiss you?”

Your smile grew bigger when you saw the anticipation and excitement in his eyes. You moved your hands from his belt and raised them, grabbing his face. You felt his soft skin on your palms as you squished his cheeks together. His breathing got heavier as you leaned up on your tiptoes, pulling his head down to meet yours. You pressed your lips together gently, giving him a soft closed mouth kiss. You leaned back down, flat on your feet, and looked up at him with a small smile.

“Whoa,” he said, his eyes wide, lost in the small kiss that you had just shared. “I’ve wanted to do that since I first saw you…”

“Why didn’t you?” you asked, a little pouty.

Leon scoffed, but he looked at you with a grin on his face. “Because I’m a gentleman.”

“Does a gentleman pop a boner every time he sees me?” you teased.

Leon’s mouth fell open in surprise and he instinctively covered his hands over the center of his pants. It was obviously too late, though. You already knew he was hard and you were getting almost desperate to pull it out of his underwear.

“You noticed that?” he asked, his voice raising an octave in embarrassment.

“It’s kind of hard not to,” you said, chewing on your bottom lip as you let your eyes trail down his body to the bulge in his pants.

“I-I didn’t mean to,” he mumbled, shifting against the counter.

You shook your head reassuringly, reaching up and placing a hand on his cheek. He leaned into it, nuzzling slightly as he looked at you shyly.

“I think it’s cute,” you said. “You’d always get so worked up and all I would do was flirt with you a little.” You eyed him, looking at him up and down, staring at the bulge once again. You lowered your hand from his face and slipped your fingers behind his belt, wiggling them against his lower tummy.

“I bet you’re really sensitive, yeah?” you said breathily, leaning towards him, ghosting your lips together. You looked down at his pink wet lips, your eyelashes fluttering against his skin. “Can I find out?”

Leon swallowed and nodded, his eyes wide as he stared at you, seemingly in a daze.

“P-please,” he pleaded, his voice bordering on a whimper.

You gave him a big smile and then leaned up, placing another kiss on his lip. This one you made sure to heat up, opening your mouth slightly so that you could run your tongue along his lower lip. He whined as you did, and you took that opportunity to push your tongue inside his mouth. You felt his hands move as he let out a gasp. He grabbed your waist, digging his fingers into your skin. He kissed you back, pushing his tongue against mine, trying his best to assert some kind of dominance. You wrestled your tongues together for a few more moments, but when you felt his cock twitch against your tummy, you pulled away.

You gave him a mischievous smile, looking at his flushed face and his swollen lips. His eyes were big, his pupils blown out. He was breathing hard out of his open mouth, staring at you in admiration. You raised your eyebrows at him as you lowered yourself down, getting on your knees in front of him. You heard him let out a choked sound, and he squeezed his eyes shut, looking away from you. He let out a small whine and accidentally bucked his hips. You smiled more, raising your hands to grab his hips, holding him still.

“S-sorry,” he said. “You j-just…” He looked down at you, his mouth hanging open as he continued to breathe hard. “Fuck, you look so good. Oh, my God.” He closed his eyes and looked away again, his chest heaving. “Oh, my fucking God.”

You let out a giggle as you moved your hands back to the center of his pants, beginning to unbuckle his belt.

“I didn’t peg you as someone who swears so much,” you teased.

Leon shook his head, still keeping his eyes squeezed shut. You watched him bite his lip as he tried to suppress his whines.

“Not usually,” he said, unable to make proper sentences. “Sometimes. Right now.” He opened his eyes and sighed. “You look really… pretty.”

“Imagine my view,” you said, pulling open his belt and messing with the button. He sucked his tummy in. “A pretty boy all blushy up above me? So nervous he doesn’t know what to do?” You undid the button and zipped down the zipper, pushing the flaps of his pants back before looking up at him to sell home your next point. “It’s like I just won the lottery.”

Leon let out a whimper and shook his head, reaching his hands behind him and grabbing the counter.

“Can’t say that stuff to me,” he said, his voice breathy. “Too nice.”

“You’re such a good boy, Leon,” you said. “I gotta be nice to you.”

You turned back to the center of his body. You pushed the flaps to the side more and shoved his pants down slightly around his hips. He sucked in a breath of air as his hard dick sprung forward against his underwear. You smiled, watching as it twitched against the fabric. You leaned forward, pressing your lips against where his tip would be, shoving your tongue against the wet spot that he had made.

“Holy shit,” he breathed out, his hands gripping the counter even tighter. His fingers twitched and his chest heaved.

You continued to press your tongue against the wet spot on his underwear, licking at his clothed tip as you held onto his hips to stop him from bucking them. You moved one hand and gripped the base of his dick, wrapping your fingers around it as much as you could over his underwear. You moved it slowly, sliding the fabric along the sensitive skin, no doubt sending friction spreading throughout his entire body. Leon moaned and whimpered above you, trying his best to keep himself quiet and still.

After a few minutes, you pulled back, sliding your hands up and slipping your fingers into the waistband of his underwear. You shoved them down slightly, exposing the top part of his shaft as well as the crop of pubic hair. He sucked in a breath of air through his teeth, his fingers twitching. You looked up at him with an eyebrow raised, watching his big reactions. A question popped into your mind and you had to ask.

“Leon?” you said gently, getting his attention. He looked down at you, his eyes big and watery. He looked scared, like he might’ve done something wrong. “How much experience do you have?” you asked.

A look of embarrassment immediately washed over his face. The blush that had just begun to disappear suddenly appeared even brighter.

“N-not much,” he said, repeating what he had said earlier.

You gave him a big, teasing smile. “Are you a virgin?” you asked.

Leon let out a whimper, squirming. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and looked down at you, nodding his head.

“Have you ever done anything?” you asked, feeling your heart beat fast against your chest. Getting to touch him in a way no else had, being the first person to touch his dick, running your tongue and hands all over the unexplored part of his body…? It made your head spin.

Leon shook his head again, clearly embarrassed. He looked disappointed in himself.

“J-just a couple of makeouts… It never went any further.” He looked at you, ashamed of himself. He tried to crack a smile, but you could tell he felt bad. “I guess I wasn’t any good.”

“You’re so fucking adorable,” you said, your voice sincere.

His eyes widened and his head shot down to look at you. He looked surprised that you had complimented him and genuinely meant it.

“I’m gonna make you feel real good, okay, baby?” you said, your voice seductive.

Leon nodded, his mouth opening and closing before he finally spoke, his voice small. “Th-thank you.”

“Well aren’t you just so polite?” you said, glancing up at him before turning your attention back to his underwear.

You shoved them down even more, pushing them down enough for his dick to spring forward. Your suspicions were right. Leon was big. It was long and thick with veins running down all around his shaft. The tip was bright red and leaking. His blush reached the base, ghosting lightly along his skin. He had the prettiest dick you had ever seen. The fact that he was just walking around with this having no idea what to do with it… Christ, your mouth was practically watering.

You slid one hand across his pubic area, looking up at him to watch his reaction. He was trying hard to keep his breath steady. His eyes were squeezed shut and his mouth was open, silent moans threatening to come out. You smiled at him, wrapping your fingers around the base of his dick and lifting it up. You pressed it against his tummy, watching the precum stick to his skin. You leaned forward and stuck your tongue out, pressing the flat part against one of his balls.

Leon immediately let out a moan, low and breathy.

“Fuck,” he whined through gritted teeth, his hands still clenching the countertop.

You smiled, pushing your tongue against him even harder. You moved your head, pressing your face against his face where it met his balls. You licked up, running your tongue along his balls, pulling one into your mouth and sucking lightly before letting it out with a pop. As you licked at him, you felt the textured skin on your tongue, slight bumps from where he had just shaved. You couldn’t help but smile, finding it cute that even though he wasn’t getting any he still made it a point to keep himself groomed.

Not that you would care if he wasn’t, to be completely honest.

“F-feels so good,” Leon breathed. You glanced up at him, continue to lick his balls and the bottom of his dick. You moved your hand lazily, pressing the heel against his dick to grind into it. “Feels like I’m in f-fucking heaven.”

You let out a breathy laugh, ghosting your breath along his sensitive skin. You pulled back, looking up at him as you began moving your hand a little more, beginning to properly jerk him off.

“Imagine when I pop your cherry and let you put it in me,” you commented.

Leon let out a gasp, gripping the counter tighter. His eyes opened and he looked down at you, his eyes wide.

“You… You’ll let me?” he asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

You eyed him. “Baby, I’ll let you do anything you want.”

“Fuck,” he whimpered, squirming. “What if I’m not any good? N-never done it before…” He let his voice trail off, looking away, embarrassed.

You chuckled. “Guess we’ll just have to keep doing it until you get good at it, yeah?”

Leon whined, bucking his hips into your hand.

“Gonna get you addicted, baby,” you said, lowering your head back down to his dick. You stuck your tongue out, lapping at the sensitive skin. You fisted his tip, twisting your wrist so that you could circle it. You felt the precum on your hand. You looked up at him through your lashes, your pupils blown out. You only had one thing on your mind- make Leon cum until he saw stars.

“Gonna make it so the only thing you can think about is my mouth on your cock,” you continued. “You like that?”

Leon whined, nodding his head rapidly. His fingers twitched at his side.

“Already think about you all the time,” he confessed, his face blushing.

“Really?” you asked, pulling back to look up at him with a raised eyebrow.

He looked down at you, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout. You moved your hand around his tip to keep him satisfied. He sighed a happy sigh, his lips curling upwards in a small smile. He nodded, clearly lost in his own world but still trying to keep up the conversation.

“Did you… touch yourself to me?” you asked, a slight mocking tone in your voice.

Leon nodded again, his face blushing even brighter.

“Yes,” he whispered. “A… A lot. After my first day, I…” He gulped, taking a deep breath so he could keep himself composed. “When I got to my car I couldn’t wait. I jerked off in the parking lot and I accidentally moaned your name.” He shifted, shame written on his face. “I felt bad, but…” He opened his eyes to look down at you. His pupils were huge, almost completely overtaking his pretty blue irises. “But you’re just so pretty, I can’t help it.” He sighed, a small smile on his face.

“Dirty boy,” you teased, leaning down once again to place little licks on his balls. You moved your hand more, rubbing your palm up and down more inches of his cock.

“Only for you,” he breathed, his voice high pitched and whiny now. “Never anyone else.

“Mhm,” you hummed against his shaft.

“Wouldn’t let anyone else do this to me in the break room of my job,” Leon said, and then you watched as the situation seemingly fully hit him for the first time. His face fell and he looked worried. He looked down at you, slightly frantic. “Sh-should we stop? I mean, what if someone comes in…?”

“No one’s here,” you mumbled, now completely focused on licking and sucking near the bottom of his shaft. “Don’t worry, baby. Just let yourself feel good.”

Your words seemed to ease Leon, because he relaxed back against the counter. You looked up at him, seeing his perfectly content face. He looked like he was on cloud nine, in complete bliss. You had never seen someone so satisfied before and you hadn’t even wrapped your lips around his dick and taken him in your throat yet. Your head started spinning as you thought about how he was going to react to that.

After a few more minutes, you finally moved away from his sensitive and overstimulated balls. You dragged the flat part of your tongue up the thick vein that lined the bottom of his cock. When you reached the top, you circled your tongue around his tip, lapping up the precum that was leaking out. It was salty and honestly didn’t taste very good, but you didn’t care. You snuck a glance up at him, hearing his whimpers and whines, clearly still trying to keep himself quiet.

You slid your hand down his shaft, the side bumping into his balls as you finally wrapped your lips around the tip. He sighed, thrusting his hips forward slightly, accidentally pushing a few more inches in your mouth. You gagged, not expecting the sudden intrusion, but Leon didn’t seem to notice. He had raised his hand, shoving his palm over his mouth. His other hand was at his tummy, grabbing at his shirt to hold it up over his abs, the fabric balled in his fist.

You raised your hand and grabbed his hips to hold him still as best you could. Despite you clearly having the upper hand, Leon was still a big man who was a lot stronger than you. When he felt your fingers on his hips, though, he melted into your touch.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, pushing his hips back and looking down at you.

You pulled off of him, going back to licking his tip. You had spit pooling on your lips from choking a moment before, so you let it dribble onto his dick. You slid your hand up to his tip and gathered the spit on the side of your palm so you could rub his shaft easier. As you did, you leaned back down and sucked his wet tip into your mouth.

“I’ll-I’ll try not to cum too fast,” Leon breathed, squeezing his eyes shut. He looked like he was going to cry.

You hummed around his tip, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow.

“I- uh,” Leon swallowed, trying hard to keep himself composed. “I’ll try to tell you when I do.” He let out a breathy chuckle. “You’re supposed to do that, right?”

You pulled off of him again, leaning back on your heels as you continued to jerk him off lazily.

“It’s the nice thing to do, yes,” you confirmed, feeling a strange sense of pride at having to answer his question about getting a blowjob.

Leon nodded obediently. “Okay,” he said, swallowing. He looked down, watching your hand move on his cock. His eyes shifted up, and he looked into yours. “I’m nice, yeah?”

You gave him a big smile and leaned forward, placing a kiss on the underside of his head.”

“You’re really nice,” you said, looking up at him, ghosting your lips against his sensitive skin. “You’re such a good boy, Leon.”

He sucked in a breath and then let out a small whimper. His hips bucked slightly and you gave him a sly smile.

“I’m… I’m your good boy, right?”

“Fuck,” you whispered, feeling the wetness pooling in your underwear. You were so turned on, so horny that it was insane. You were willing to do anything to keep giving Leon head.

“Yeah, baby,” you said, your voice growing a touch more husky and raspy. You leaned back down, placing open mouthed kisses against his shaft. “You’re my good boy.”

“Do anything you say,” Leon whined. He kept his one hand grabbing onto his shirt, but he ran the other through his hair. “I promise, b-baby.”

“I know, Leon,” you said, a small laugh leaving your lips.

You looked up, taking in the sight of him. He was a wreck above you. His hair was messy and his face was red. His eyebrows were pulled down and his lips were parted, breathy whimpers coming out.

“God, look at you,” you cooed, your voice low as you continued to kiss the side of his dick. “Standing there so pretty, letting me touch your dick however I want.”

“Feels good,” Leon said, his voice a whisper.

“I’d say,” you mocked, dragging out the syllable. You dragged your lips up his shaft until you reached his tip. “Make sure you let me know how good this feels, okay, baby?”

Leon started to nod, his eyes heavy as he looked down at you, but he was quickly cut off by the feeling of you taking him inside your mouth. His body spasmed, his hips jerking, but you were prepared for his big reactions that time. You relaxed your throat, letting him buck his hips once before catching himself. His hands shot away from the counter and landed on your head. He didn’t push it, though. Instead, he rested his palm against the sides of your head. As you pulled back and lowered your head again, you felt his fingers twiddle against your ears and play with your hair. You smiled as much as you could. Even when he was in such a vulnerable position, even when he was getting his dick sucked for the first time, he was still there to make sure that you stayed grounded.

You steadily took more of him, breathing through your nose. Leon’s scent was always strong, but being this close to him in such a precarious position made it intoxicating. Your head was spinning, your vision going blurry as inch after inch slid down your throat. Leon kept his hands on your head, his thighs and hips twitching as he tried to keep himself composed enough not to thrust in your mouth and fuck your throat as hard as he wanted. He really was big, but you were determined to take as much as you could.

You felt him slide down your throat, your walls clenching around him, squeezing his dick as you bounced your head on it. He moaned above you, his mind completely engulfed in the blowjob. He had stopped worrying about being quiet, the way your throat was tight around his dick enough to make him let loose the whiniest whimpers you had ever heard. He sounded so pretty and so desperate. It was like music to your ears.

The sounds Leon was making only encouraged you to go down further. You pulled back, kissing and licking his tip as you took a deep breath. Then, you grabbed his hips and lowered your head down, pushing his dick deeper down your throat. You felt the tip hit the back and you gagged, which only made him sputter, his entire body spasming. You thought for a moment that he was about to cum, so you looked up at him, only to see that he was already looking down at you.

“Th-the whole thing?” he asked, his voice small. He looked like he was in a daze. You felt his dick twitch inside your throat. “Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.” He tipped his head back, his tummy heaving as he breathed hard. You pulled back, licking underneath the head of his dick. You looked up at him as you did, watching as he went in and out of consciousness, looking at you with heavy lids.

“Never ever thought I’d get your mouth around me,” Leon began, his voice high and breathy. He shook his head, raising one hand from your head to run his fingers through his hair. “Nuh uh, never ever ever.”

You continued to slobber all over his dick, pushing your tongue against his shaft, licking anywhere that you could. You held onto his hips, pushing your thumbs into the skin underneath his hip bones.

“Fuck,” he moaned, his voice gravelly. He sunk against the counter, his hand sliding down his body. He reached out, looking down at you with blown out pupils. He placed his hand on your cheek, pressing his fingers underneath your jaw.

You rewarded him by wrapping your lips around his raging red tip once again, and any romantic moment he was feeling was washed away immediately. His face twisted into the beautiful pleasured face he had before and his fingers clenched, grabbing your ear.

“Never thought I’d ever even get a chance with you,” he said. You looked up at him, watching him talk as his eyes stayed squeezed shut. You bobbed your head up and down sloppily. “Thought you were too good for me. Thought I’d just have to be happy working at the same place as you.”

You let your eyes stare up at him. You pulled off, sliding his dick out of your throat and going back to licking at it as you listened to what he was saying. His face was turning red and his voice was getting breathier as he continued to babble.

“Thought I’d just have to be happy jerking off to you,” he confessed.

You hummed against his tip, placing a kiss against the slit and then pulling back, giving him a mischievous smile.

“Can you tell me about it, baby?” you asked, looking up at him through your lashes.

He looked down at you, shame and worry on his face, but his dick twitched against your lips.

“Wh-when I was in my car, that first day, I-...” He swallowed hard as you went back to suckling on his cock. Your ears burned red as you listened to him. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

You moved one hand down and grabbed his cock, pushing it up so you could lick a long stripe underneath up to his tip. Leon breathed hard.

“I- fuck!- I was so hard,” he grunted. Clearly he was finding it harder to get his words out by that point. “I felt like I was gonna pass out. I just… I just had to touch it. It was twitching in my pants and leaking so much…” He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and sucked hard, making his lips swollen.

You circled your tongue around his for only a moment before lowering your head down, taking him in your throat. You grabbed his hips again, keeping him steady. It wasn’t working very well anymore, though. Leon was clearly close to his orgasm because his hips wouldn’t stay still and he wouldn’t stop talking.

“I came so fast and I thought about you the whole time,” he moaned out. “I thought about you riding me and grabbing my shoulders and digging your nails into my skin.”

Leon bucked his hips harder as you took more inches in your mouth. You flexed your throat, clenching around him as he stretched out your walls. His voice sped up and he sounded more and more desperate as the seconds passed.

“Want you to mark me. Wanna have scratch marks and hickeys all over me.” Leon’s mind was moving fast, his mouth barely able to keep up. “Wanna let you do everything to me. Want you to… fuck, fuck, fuck. Want you to ruin me- holy shit!”

Leon’s hands grabbed onto your hair, tugging hard as he bucked his hips. You held onto his hipbones, letting him fuck your mouth to his obvious near completion.

“I’m gonna cum-! Fuck, I’m gonna cum!”

It was only a few seconds later that Leon’s sudden fast movements were frozen, his cock buried deep inside your mouth.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he chanted as he came down your throat, spilling thick strings out.

His fingers loosened and his hands dropped to his sides as you continued to suck him off, milking all of his cum out. When there was nothing left, you pulled off, looking up at his hazy eyes as you swallowed down his orgasm. When it was down, you sat back on your heels and looked up at him, giving him a big smile.

He looked like he was going to pass out. He gave you a shaky smile and then tipped his head back, breathing hard at the ceiling. You laughed, giving his thigh a pat as you pushed yourself up. Leon stayed leaning against the counter as you stood in front of him. You stared at him, watching as his eyes stayed closed and he kept a smile on his face. He swayed lightly, in his own little world full of bliss and post nut pleasure. He was practically glowing.

You laughed again, shaking your head at him playfully. You reached your hands out and grabbed his dick. He only smiled bigger, letting you put his dick away and fix his pants. By the time you had gotten the belt back on, he seemed to be stable enough to keep his eyes open. He stared at you, watching your eyes move with a goofy smile on his face, his front teeth showing. You looked up at him, but had to quickly look away. He was making your heart flutter in a much more fluffy way than before.

“What?” you asked, blush creeping across your cheeks.

Leon shook his head, but his smile didn’t leave. “Nothing,” he replied, still eyeing you.

“Why are you staring?” you squeaked, reaching out and giving him a slight push.

Leon shrugged, looking away shyly. “You’re just pretty.”

“Hey!” you said, reaching out and poking his chest. “You didn’t stutter.” You gave him a playful smile.

Leon’s cheeks blushed and his smile got shy. He closed his eyes gently and let out a breath of air through his nose, his lips curling upwards slightly. He looked breathtaking. As you stared at him, thought, you saw his eyes open and a worried expression crossed his face. He turned his head and looked at you, almost frantic.

“W-wait!” he exclaimed, reaching his hands out and ghosting his fingers on your arms. He pulled you slightly closer to him. “I can do you! I mean, I’ve never done it before, so I probably won’t be any good, but-”

“Leon,” you said with a laugh, cutting him off. You patted his cheek, shaking your head reassuringly. “I wanna save you doing me for next time.” You gave him a sly smile, flickering your eyes at him up and down.

“N-next time?” he asked, his voice small.

You nodded, stepping forward. “Mhm,” you hummed, wrapping your arms around his neck. You pressed your bodies together, feeling his hands take place on your hips. They fit perfectly, as if that’s where they belonged.

“I still have to let you put it in, remember?” you teased.

His eyes widened and his hands rubbed around your lower back.

“Y-” he began, but was cut off by a choke. He cleared his throat and continued. He looked around, lowering his head closer to you and whispering, his eyes wide. “You were serious?” he asked, his slight lisp shining through in his surprise and amazement.

“Of course,” you chuckled. “You think I’d just leave you hanging like that? Besides, I gotta teach you how to make me feel good.”

“I wanna learn!” Leon exclaimed, nodding his head rapidly, trying to show you that he really meant it. “I’ll try my best for you! I-I wanna make you feel as good as you just made me feel…” He looked away, clearly shy from his own words.

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. All you wanted to do was lean up and kiss him, so that’s exactly what you did. He froze for a second, but then you felt his body melt against yours and he kissed you back. You sighed into the kiss. This one felt… different. It felt more passionate and gentle. It felt like it meant something more than just two tongues wrestling together when someone was trying to get off. The butterflies went crazy in your tummy.

You pulled back, looking up at him with a genuine and soft smile. He looked down at you, happiness in his eyes.

There was a moment of silence as Leon’s eyes flickered around your face, studying you. Then, he sputtered out quickly, “Will you go on a date with me?”

Your shock was probably written on your face, but you were just so surprised that he actually wanted to go on a date with you. You knew that Leon was shy and awkward, but he was still a guy, so you just thought… You just thought that all he really wanted was to get laid. He wanted to go on a date? Like… an actual one?

“You want to go on a date with me?” you asked, your voice raising an octave.

Leon nodded. “I wanna take you out. I want to… uh… treat you.” He looked away, his voice lowering. “I like you…”

You felt your face turning red and you couldn’t look at him anymore. You looked at the floor, feeling shy. Your heart was beating fast against your chest and your hands were suddenly sweaty.

You nodded shyly. “I’ll go on a date with you. I… I like you, too.”

“Holy shit,” he breathed out, sounding relieved. He couldn’t wipe a smile off of his face. His fingers flexed against your waist. He looked down at you, his face giddy. “Tomorrow? I-I’ll take you to dinner.”

You nodded almost immediately. “Tomorrow sounds good. What time do you get off work?”

“6:30.”

You nodded absentmindedly, thinking about the options. “Okay,” you said finally. “I get off at 5. Do you wanna… meet me at my place when you get off?”

“Sure!” he agreed. “And we can go out to eat.”

“Yeah!” You gave him a smile. “Then when you drop me back off at my house, you can come inside.”

He nodded, looking shy. “Sounds good.” He lowered his voice, then quietly added, “I’m excited.”

“I can’t wait,” you said, giving him a smile.

After that, you told Leon that you two better head out before the security guard caught you and you got into trouble. He agreed, and you both began walking back towards the front office. You grabbed your things, but Leon quickly took them out of your hands.

“I can get it for you.” He gave you a playful smile. “I’m strong, remember?” Now he was the one doing the teasing.

You let out a small laugh and shook your head.

Leon walked you out, staying by your side the entire time. As you walked, your knuckles bumped against each other, and you couldn’t help from grabbing his hand and lacing your fingers together. You felt his sweaty palms against yours. Your heart swelled, threatening to burst out of your chest. He put your back in the back of your car and then opened the driver door for you. You rolled your window down so you could say goodbye. Before you could stop yourself, you reached out and grabbed his shirt. You pulled him down, placing a kiss on his lips before letting him go. He raised back up, his face bright red and sweaty.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Leon,” you said, putting your car in drive.

“See you tomorrow,” he said, giving you a small wave.

The rest of the night you couldn’t stop thinking about rookie Leon Kennedy. You couldn’t stop thinking about his big dick, about the way he sounded when you were blowing him, about how he played with your hair while he was getting his cock sucked, about how sweet he was, about how shy and nervous he acted. It got to be a real problem when you realized you actually couldn’t get him off your mind.

Do I have a crush on him? you pondered as you thought about the date, but also about what you were going to do afterwards…

You couldn’t wait.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy #re4 leon #re4 remake #resident evil 4 #re2make #re2 leon #re2 remake #resident evil 2 #leon kennedy resident evil #reader insert #i’ll write a part 2 where he puts it in <3

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