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chelseeebe · 21 days ago

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(i only have) eyes for you

18+. mdni. smut. violence! horror themes throughout!! ghostface!eddie

day seven of spooky week and happy halloween freaks!!! i can’t believe i did it… seven days of consistent posting has taken genuine years off of my life lol. pls pretend they’re in college for this, i wrote it entirely that way and then decided they were going to be in steve’s house.. who knows

a/n: i listened to this song a lot while writing this because it is so creepy but so perfect for this fic! this was sorta kinda rushed but i’ve been working this entire week so finding the time to really delve into it the way i wanted to :,(

⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧

tap tap tap

the sound of something, or really someone rattles against your window, the faint sounds of someone whistling follow shortly after.

despite being wise to eddie’s tricks, the ominous tune makes your skin prickle, too spooked by the news of some masked murderer to think straight.

your window cracks open, the wooden frame scraping upwards loudly, a prolonged creak that signals that whatever it was, was now inside.

his cologne gives him away first, and then the lingering smell of weed that catches up to your nose soon after.

it was eddie, basking in the moonlight, just waiting for you to turn and see him.

“oh my fucking god,” you hiss, “you scared the shit out of me!” scowling as he pulls his limbs through the window.

he wastes no time in kicking off his shoes and practically diving across the room to land atop of you. his heaving chest pressed against yours, finding your frowning lips for a gentle kiss.

“‘m sorry sweetheart,” pouting his lips in an attempt to mock your worried tone, eddie found it endearing really, that you cared about him so.

“there’s a murderer out there, you know?” you scold.

“mhm, is there?”

“yes,” dropping the stern expression the second his hands find the hem of your shirt, delving underneath to grasp your waist, “and i’d really appreciate if you didn’t die.”

“i’m not gonna die,” he says entirely too confidently, “and neither are you.”

“what were you doing out there?”

“i had to.. do some business,” hoping you’d get the hint.

your upper lip snarls, having never liked the fact he dealt on the side. it was mostly a bit of weed to freshmen but the weekends were always busier. “oh,” you huff, running your hands along his sore shoulders.

“you asked,” eddie states plainly. it wasn’t as if he was entirely lying, because he had dropped off a gram for some useless kid.

he had just neglected to tell you what he and steve had done to the kid afterwards.

your eyes roll back, running your fingers up his neck and into his mane of hair, “i wish i hadn’t,” though judging by the fact that you hadn’t kicked him out, you can’t be too mad.

eddie hums, desperately trying to change the subject by trailing his hand further upwards, palming your boob with a soft groan.

“and what if i told you that i was the scary killer?” his knee shifts slightly, moving on top of yours to keep it pressed to the mattress. he’s got you trapped beneath his body, his large hands enveloping both of your wrists.

if you didn’t know eddie so well, you probably would’ve been much more afraid than you were. but you do know him, this had to be some stupid prank, something he’d thought up while high. so you do what he wants you to do and play into it. if he wants to pretend that he’s a weirdo then fine, you can play that game too.

“oh yeah?” you smirk, a feeble attempt to wriggle out of his grasp, “what’re you gonna do to me, mr ghostface?” rutting your hips up to meet his, sighing softly when you feel his hardened cock.

the fact that you’re even into this is simply abhorrent but you can already feel the wet patch growing in your panties, needly bucking your hips desperate for any friction to satiate the growing ache between your thighs.

he chuckles lowly, readjusting his grip on your wrists, leaving one hand pinning them both above your head, “well first..” his breath hot on your cheeks, “i’m going to fuck the shit out of you.” his pupils grow larger, darker somehow, “and then..” prodding his forefinger to your chest, slowly tracing down the length of your torso, “i might just gut you,” his eyes follow his finger all the way down.

you quiver under his touch, breathless. holy fuck. it’s disgusting. it is. but you can’t help yourself, practically panting with animalistic need. it’s not like he was actually going to kill you see, eddie was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a murderer.

“please,” you beg, squirming as his hand slips into the waistband of your jeans. he’s so cold, fingers like blocks of ice that make your skin prickle.

“you want that? hmm?”

you’re gasping at this point, pleading with him to just touch you. he had gotten what he’d wanted from this game so why couldn’t he hurry up? you’re literally jelly beneath him, malleable and just so eager to touch.

“gotta use your words baby.. i wanna hear you,” pausing his descent into your underwear, much to your dismay. legs springing apart as a sort of encouragement to get him to continue.

“yes.. yes i want that,” desperately panting underneath his sly smirk, he’s enjoying this far too much and you can’t help but to just give it to him. so desperate to please, even if it was borderline psychotic.

“good,” he breathes, curling his fingers around the waistband of your sodden underwear. his teeth emerging to graze upon your neck, making sure to leave splotches of violet and deep maroon so that everybody knew whose you really were.

your hips cant upward the second eddie’s fingers tease your hole, crying out for him to cut the shit and just touch you properly. he was a cruel man, unable to satisfy himself with any normal level of foreplay, no. for eddie, he needed to keep this charade up for as long as possible.

“you been thinkin’ ‘bout me?” using his other hand to control your chin, keeping your flickering gaze somewhat on his face, “waiting f’me all night.. i can feel it,” plunging his fingers into your sopping cunt, drawing a sharp hiss from your lips.

“think about you all the time,” you nod, whimpering against his mouth, keeping a strong grip on his neck.

eddie grins, the twinkle returning to his dark eye, letting the charade slip only slightly, “i know you do, and i know it because you never.. ever leave my mind,” his thumb beginning to swirl around your clit, letting go of your jaw to wrap his hands loosely around your neck instead.

“fuckk,” you shudder, canting your hips in response to his fingers gliding in and out of your hole, thumb performing laps around your clit and sensitive folds.

“you’re so beautiful like this,” he utters, dotting hungry kisses to your wetted lips, punctuating his longing words. “i just wanna keep you like this forever,” the hunger returning to his blown out pupils, fingers squeezing your throat.

he wouldn’t hurt you, not on purpose. but his grip was getting mighty tight, restricting your breath as your leg slides up between his. the twisting in your abdomen only worsens, dizzying as the pleasure intensifies.

squeezing out a garbled, “eds,” that makes him loosen his grip, flashing back to reality as you squeeze around his fingers, thrashing around underneath his body as your orgasm rocks your bones, the sweetest sounds fill the room.

“that’s it sweetheart,” eddie coos, sliding his hand from your shorts to grasp your hip, kissing over his previously made markings.

“i love you,” muttering breathlessly as you regain control of your limbs.

he breathes heavily into your neck, cocking his head up to meet your gaze, “i love you too,” beaming at your lovesick gaze, praying to god that you’d never find out about the horrific things he was truly doing tonight.

eddie’s idea of date night usually entails him being able to whisk you off somewhere dark and alone at some point during the night. so when you’d suggested a drive-in movie, he’d been positively over the moon.

he’d thought seeing a nightmare on elm street was a little on the nose considering the shit he’d been up to recently but you couldn’t know and besides, it meant you’d be curled into his shoulder for the majority of the movie anyway.

you sit now, with your face buried into his shoulder, both arms clinging tight to his.

not because of the movie though. no, this was because his right hand had crept underneath your skirt, pumping his fingers in and out of your soaked hole.

it wasn’t as if every other couple weren’t doing the exact same thing, it was an unspoken custom of the drive-in experience.

“wait,” you pant, “let me-,” letting go to reach down, pushing your seat further back. your fingers curl around something plastic, reemerging with the damning mask he’d shoved beneath the seat. “what the fuck is this?” you shriek, sitting straight up.

eddie’s blood runs cold, frozen as you flap the plastic mask in his face. it wasn’t even supposed to be in here, let alone for you to find so easily.

“oh my god,” he sighs, thinking on his toes, “it was for a prank,” grabbing the rubber from your fingers, “me and steve were gonna scare argyle and jonathan… it’s not what you think babe,” hoping that measly excuse would be enough to get you off of his back.

“a prank?” you hiss, “is that funny to you? pretending to be some psycho murderer?” funnily enough, he didn’t really have to pretend.

“no!” he frowns, pettily grabbing at the mask though you keep it out of reach, “that’s why we didn’t do it,” sounding completely desperate as he’s lying through his teeth, “sweetheart, i know what it looks like but i promise it’s not like that,” the guilt ripples through his chest, he didn’t want to lie to you but what choice did he have?

you frown, gripping the cracked plastic as if it could tell you the answer itself, “that’s not funny eddie,” lowering your clenched fist at last, “what if someone had seen you? what if someone else found this?”

you’re angry, it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. pupils dilated and your jaw clenched, he couldn��t bare to ever see you like this. god only knows how you’d react if you ever found out he was truly responsible for these killings.

“i’m sorry,” utterly exasperated, you couldn’t find out, not now, not ever. “i wasn’t thinking.. i’ve just been-,” his nostrils flare, hoping you could forget about this and quickly, “thinking about everyone dying, you know? i’m scared,” grabbing your hands to really accentuate his point.

“we’re all scared, eds,” his nickname allowing him to breathe at last, you’d never use eds when you were mad, never. “that doesn’t mean you should start pretending to kill people too, you’re so.. stupid,” said endearingly, far calmer than you were five minutes ago.

“i know.. i’m sorry baby,” squeezing your fingers together, “i love you, okay?”

your pout could solve wars, an immediate punch to his gut that had him instantly crawling on his knees for forgiveness. it’s no different now, jutting your bottom lip out with a slight quiver, vowing him to never make such a stupid mistake again.

eddie drives this time, rushing back from the large house they’d been at. he doesn’t even know the kids name, he just knows his spleen no longer resided within his gut.

this one was his idea, some kid that’d stiffed him for a couple grams a few months ago. stupid stuff really, but they’d needed to throw the cops off the scent.

“so,” steve begins, pulling eddie from his head, “you still wanna do this?”

he didn’t, not really. not while you were there.

“i don’t see any other way we can end this,” he sighs, turning onto the darkened street, “it has to end,” you were getting too wise, thumbing at the scratch marks on his arm or questioning why he was always out so late recently.

nothing would ever be worth losing you. not in a million years.

“alright,” steve pouts, enjoying this far more than he first let on, “what’re you gonna do about that sweet girlfriend of yours? i think we should spook her first, really up the stakes,” bouncing around the cab of the van.

“absolutely not, don’t even think about getting her involved with this shit,” baring his teeth, appalled that steve would ever even suggest something like that. you were all wide spoke about, filling up his thoughts even as he was driving a knife into the back of jason carver.

“whaat? you don’t even wanna scare her a little? make her squirm,” his smirk evident in his tone.

“i mean it steve,” eddie warns, flashing the boy a harsh glare, “if you touch her, i’ll kill you.”

the car goes silent for a moment until steve cackles, his grin shining through, “not if i kill you first.”

eddie’s blood runs cold, they could end this entire thing right now if that was what he wanted. his knuckles glow white, gripping the steering wheel as opposed to wrapping his hands around steve’s neck, “are you fucking serious?” spitting his words out, “because i’ll do it steve, i won’t fucking hesitate.”

steve pauses, trying to control his heaving breaths, “calm down loverboy, i’m not gonna hurt her,” sucking his teeth as if eddie were the crazed one here, like he hadn’t just been speaking complete sense.

“don’t even joke about that shit,” slapping his hand against the leather steering wheel, “fucking dumbass, i can’t believe you,” looking to steve with utter disbelief in his eye.

“chill out man,” steve calms, relaxing into the seat, “i’m not gonna do anything, wouldn’t wanna piss you off now, would i?”

eddie had thought the entire night through, every second meticulously planned so that you’d never end up in the crossfire. he just needed your willing cooperation and reassurance that his partner in crime wouldn’t lose his mind.

the last, he can’t promise.

steve had been more erratic than ever, obvious that letting go of this power wasn’t anything he wanted. eddie doesn’t know how he can live with the guilt, but then, steve didn’t look into your bright eyes each night and feel that same stab of betrayal he did.

he takes your hand now, leading you up the steep staircase and into the bathroom, under the guise of getting away from the noise, locking the door behind him as you stand at the sink, only slightly concerned.

“what’s this for?” dipping your chin when his hands meet your waist, pressing your back against the cold porcelain.

“i just wanted to.. get away,” eddie remarks, knowing that any minute now, all hell would break loose downstairs and he’d have to stab the shit out of people he called his friend.

“oh yeah? that’s all you wanted me in here for?” walking your fingers up his chest, settling on his shoulder.

“well,” letting his grin cock to the side, “what do you suggest we do in here?”

you hum, a sweet sound that makes his heart race, “i think we could start with a bit of kissing and then.. see where it goes,” weaving your fingers into his hair, bringing his face closer.

“i like the sound of that,” he coos, but the guilt is unimaginable, your oblivious smile soon to be wiped off your face and it’ll be all his fault.

your lips connect in a harmonious symphony, he can feel your smile radiating against his skin, your fingertips tracing light lines on his scalp, a motion that would usually soothe him has him anxious instead.

he so terribly wants to stay here for the duration of the night, or at least until steve had pushed his luck too far and ended up dead.

but that can’t happen, without eddie, this wouldn’t end.

you shift closer, pressing your body to his with a hum, hoping to turn this into something more that he just can’t give right now.

as if by magic, there’s a loud thud from downstairs, a blood curdling scream that echoes through the walls follows behind. your eyes full of pure dread meet his when you spring apart.

“what the fuck was that?” tightening your grip on the back of his neck.

“i.. don’t know,” a barefaced lie, “i’m gonna go and check it out, alright?” coming eye-to-eye with you, a plea of the highest order.

“what? are you fucking crazy?”

“stay here,” he orders, kindly slipping your bra strap back onto your shoulder, “lock the door after me and don’t come out.”

“no! don’t leave me in here,” true terror ringing through your words. he wishes he could tell you that you truly have nothing to worry about. not like the rest of them.

“you’ll be okay,” eddie soothes, grabbing your hand, “i promise,” his thumb tracing patterns onto your wrist.

“please come back quickly,” pleading with him not to go, your fingers shaking as they grasp his arm.

“i will,” pressing his forehead to yours, giving one last squeeze before he breaks apart, “promise,” slipping out of the door, only waiting to hear the quiet click of the lock before scuffling along to steve’s room.

his outfit had been stored in steve’s closet, the dark robe and rubbery mask that had now become dark and cracked. something about the fabric cascading over his skin had him more confident than anything, forgetting all about who was killing, unfazed by their distant screams.

he tiptoes down the stairs, careful not to bump into any stragglers, the knife poised in his hand when he hits the kitchen, fingers twitching around the handle ready to slash whoever came out first.

something squeals from behind the door, giving away their location immediately, some girl steve had tried to fuck, an obvious victim, someone quick and easy, someone you wouldn’t care about too much.

the knife plunges into her side, the dark red liquid spurting out and all over the linoleum floor, he’s sure steve’s dad wouldn’t care too much.

steve stomps through the kitchen, eyeing the scene before nodding to eddie, gesturing he follow him into the living room. it’s a silent affair, they could never know who was listening.

but eddie does as he’s told, walking in to find a barely-breathing tommy hagan, his hand reaching out pathetically as his eyelids flutter and his lungs fill with blood. eddie’s never liked him, he certainly wouldn’t be sad to see him go.

after the house is emptied, steve was to dress tommy in his robe and mask, plant the knife in his fist and call the police. they’d rehearsed it a thousand times, how steve would slash himself with his knife and eddie would scurry back up to the bathroom with you, waiting until the cops came to get you.

steve’s laugh echoes through the quiet house, maniacal as he drives his blade into tommy’s gut, his last attempts at protesting come out as squeaks before the couch turns a deep red and the sputtering comes to a sudden stop.

but eddie doesn’t want to play that game.

steve was too sporadic, untrustworthy and downright stupid, if he were to be honest. who’s to say he’d never turn on eddie? kill him or worse, you? eddie couldn’t trust him, the boy was out of it, drunk on the power it gave him.

so instead of doing anything they’d rehearsed, eddie forces the knife into steve’s chest, quickly taking it out to drive another jab into his throat, deafening his screams. steve’s eyes full of confusion, a lingering look of betrayal that makes his chest sting, if only for a second.

his body thuds as it hits the floor, a garbled sound full of air escape his throat, an anguished cry that vaguely resembles eddie.

he stares down at his accomplices twitching body, a sadness twinging his heart. steve would undoubtedly still be alive if he hadn’t been stupid enough to start joking about hurting you, all he’d had to do was keep his mouth shut and let the night play out.

but he hadn’t. desperate to make some edgy joke that now lead to him bleeding out on his living room floor.

eddie clears his throat, unwilling to dwell on his emotions for too long. he had to dress tommy and find the phone. there was too much at stake now to let steve ruin this from beyond the grave.

out of the corner of his eye he spots that same glittering top that he’d left locked in the bathroom. he can’t believe you’d been stupid enough to come out of there. why you couldn’t just listen to him for once was completely beyond him.

he bounds along behind you, esnuring that absolutely nobody was skulking around the grand house before clamping one hand over your mouth, the other snaking around your hip to bring you to the cold, wooden floor.

you scream against his palm, vibrating the skin with your pleas for help. eyes wide and watering as they meet the mask, he’s not surprised, for all you know, the knife in his hand was going straight into your side next.

he straddles your waist, keeping your pressed into the floor and not a problem for him, “shh.. sh-shut up,” he hushes, ensuring that the hall really was empty before he revealed his identity.

the thrashing stops, stilling as the cogs slowly turn and his voice becomes familiar, a blood-chilling flash of hurt overtakes your fearful eyes instead.

bile rises in his throat, sick to his stomach with the fact that he could do this to you, make you so scared of him.

“it’s me, it’s me sweetheart,” frantically trying to get you to calm down, to maybe not be so angry at him when this was all over. “promise not to scream and i’ll let go,” itching to take his gloved hand from your mouth, to prove his love.

you nod hopelessly, flashing him an expression that he really can’t place, somewhere between terror, disgust and relief.

he does as he promised, removing his hand from your mouth to slide the mask up, hoping that maybe seeing his face would help, would make you not hate him.

“baby.. it’s not- i can explain everything to you, i just need..” panting his words, scrambling for some kind of excuse to get you back to safety, “you have to listen to me, okay? you trust me, don’t you?”

your face says anything but, watching your bottom lip tremble makes him fume, so incredibly pissed off that he was capable of this.

“please,” eddie begs, pleads even, “i’d never.. ever hurt you, you know that, right?”

“i.. i trust you,” the words squeaked rather than spoken, accompanied by salty streams falling down your cheeks.

he nods, daring to lift his mask. maybe eye contact would make you comfortable, “i’m gonna take you back to the bathroom.. okay? wait for me.. i’ll be five minutes, yeah?” running his knuckles over your mascara stained cheek, “and then i’ll tell you everything,” his tone reeking of desperation.

much to his surprise, and utter delight, you lean into his hand, nodding with your pitiful trembling lip, “okay.. okay,” so innocent, totally unassuming about what he was going to admit to.

eddie clambers off of your body, offering his hand out and praying to whichever god would listen to make sure you wouldn’t run.

you don’t, of course you don’t. taking his hand as you climb up off of the floor, shoulders slumped over as you allow him to move you down the hallway, a gentle hand resting on your waist as you go.

“five minutes baby.. i’ll be back,” he reassures for the hundredth time, “promise me you’ll stay here this time?”

you nod, grabbing his hand just to feel his skin on yours, “i love you,” so sickly sweet he almost forgets what he had to do. but he had to do this for you, or he’d never hear that again.

“i love you too,” with full sincerity, letting the door shut between you as he continues his mission, sprinting back to the living room to get tommy in his clothes and shake any hints of evidence off of himself.

tommy’s heavier than he once anticipated, his lifeless body proving hard to contort into different clothes.

but he does it, dropping the knife on the couch next to his body, giving steve one last sympathetic glance before barrelling down the hallway to the bathroom, pummelling his fist against the door.

he hopes you’ll understand, you had to. everything he did, he did it with you in mind.

his fist pummels against the wood, relief washing over his body when he hears the tiny click that lets him inside and confirms that you didn’t hate him. you trusted him, completely, just as he thought.

eddie’s quick to lock it again, even while knowing the killer was inside of the room with you, the other strewn dead across the floor in a pool of his own blood.

before he can even breath long enough to curate his explanation, the echoing sound of shouting and footsteps fill the house, the cops forcing their way inside and discovering the scene.

the bathroom door splinters, eddie’s arms shielding you from the crossfire of wood. it’s the police, flashlights pointing right at your horrified faces, sharing concerned glances between one another.

“we’ve got two confirmed alive,” one of them squawks into his radio, a fuzzy crackle coming back.

“eddie? eddie munson? we’d like to speak to you about your friend, steve harrington.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson one shot #ghostface!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #chelseeebespookyweek #Spotify

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hawkinsbnbg · 5 months ago

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Eddie and his bisexual awakening.

Eddie didn't know he also liked men until Steve Harrington landed in his life with that perfect hair, sweet nature, admirable bravery, and divine everything.

It took Eddie being mauled by the bats, almost dying multiple times, and freaking out with Wayne about his not-so-heterosexual thoughts to realize that Steve’s moles and freckles were fucking beautiful.

He knew he had been down bad when he couldn't stop waxing poetries about the guy all day and visiting Family Video whenever he could, which made him the store’s regular much to Robin’s entertainment.

Although she didn't say anything, he was quite sure that she had clocked him as queer by now. He just hoped that she would eventually clue him in about Steve’s interest if he showed enough of his consistency.

“How can I help you?”

Eddie leaned his arm on the counter and scratched the back of his neck sheepishly at Robin’s mirthful look, he could feel his cheeks heat up just by being so obvious about it.

Not to mention today marked his two months of hopeless pining.

“Uhm, is Steve here today?” He asked softly.

Instead of answering him, she turned slightly to call over her shoulder.

“Dingus, your boy is here!”

If Eddie wasn’t blushing before, he definitely was now.

“What– I’m not–”

“Which ones?” Steve’s voice called back from the inside.

And okay, Eddie knew it was stupid to get jealous over something so random because one, he was only Steve’s friend, and two, he had no claim over Steve except the massive crush he had on the guy.

But he was. Furious and bristled about the fact that he wasn’t the only person besides Robin who monopolized Steve’s free time during boring shifts.

“Who else has visited him lately?” Eddie planted his hands on the counter and narrowed his eyes, not caring that he wasn’t being subtle at all.

“Let’s see,” she tapped her chin contemplatively and started counting by her fingers, “you, obviously. Then Dustin, Lucas, and Mike.”

That’s it? Eddie blinked owlishly at her, waiting for the punch line. But what came next was—

“Leave the poor guy alone, Robs.”

Steve finally emerged from the back room and hip-checked Robin as he walked over to her side.

“He’s just so easy,” Robin huffed out a laugh.

“Stop spreading lies about me, Buckley,” Eddie gave her a wounded glare that held no real heat while also trying and failing to not stare at Steve standing directly across from him.

“Yeah, stop spreading lies, Birdie,” Steve poked at her bicep with a teasing smile.

And then that smile turned warm, fond, when it was directed at Eddie.

“Sorry about her,” Steve offered lightly, doe eyes peering up at him from under the lashes.

Eddie felt weak in the knees and secretly thanked whatever power above that had granted him a few inches on this pretty boy.

“Nah, it’s okay,” Eddie also smiled and felt his heart thump loudly in his chest as he decided to go with it. “She’s, uh, not wrong about it.”

“Are you admitting that you’re easy now, Munson?” Steve raised an eyebrow, looking amused as he reached for Eddie’s hand and started playing with the rings on it as if it had been one of his habits all along.

Which was true and never failed to make Eddie tongue-tied.

“Just for you,” he blurted out. “I’m only easy just for you.”

It would sound ridiculous if not for the way Steve’s cheeks tinted pink despite his effort at trying to stay nonchalant.

“Just for me, huh?”

Strangely, seeing the younger boy also being affected by the tension between them helped Eddie regain some confidence.

He turned his hand so he could grab Steve’s own and brought it to his lips, pressing soft kisses on the scarred knuckles.

“Yeah, I’m all yours,” he met Steve’s gaze with a dopey smile, “Sweetheart.”

A small part of him noticed that Robin had gone to the back room to give them some semblance of privacy. But a larger part of him had been lost in the beaming smile on Steve’s pretty face.

They stared at each other for a while until Steve finally broke the silence.

“Dinner at mine?”

“I’ll bring the beer and,” Eddie picked up the forgotten VHS case of ‘Risky Business’ and waved it lightly, “something to watch.”

That earned him a chuckle in return.

“It's a date?” Steve tilted his head, wanting to confirm again.

“It’s a date,” Eddie grinned and kissed the back of Steve’s hand.

Later that night, Eddie had turned up with a bouquet of flowers and was rewarded with a heated kiss that almost distracted both of them from Steve’s delicious lasagna.

Once they were done with the dishes and mitigated to the couch, he got a lapful of Steve, sweet and pretty and very eager to give him the best time of his life.

In the end, Eddie finally had a taste of that peachy ass and relived many of his wet dreams by turning Steve speechless and delirious with pleasure.

And if he also declared his love over and over again, then he didn't hear Steve complaining.

Maybe, it was because Steve had been busy doing the same.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #disaster bisexual eddie munson #confident bisexual steve harrington #steve is eddie's bi awakening #simp eddie munson #sionewrites

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doomedmoth · 6 months ago

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Three’s a crowd

Pairing : Poly and bisexual fem!reader | reader x alexandra saint mleux x charles lerclerc

Warnings : use of y/n, polyamory, fluff, very light angst, request, not much more tbh

Synopsis : Request : Could you write a poly fic about Charles, Alexandra and Y/N ? Everyone is celebrating Charles’ brand LEC but since Charles and Alex are the public couple (for Ferrari PR etc), Y/N can’t do anything. She’s starting to feel left out because of it since they’re going out and celebrating without her, they keep leaving her out and forgetting important dates (her birthday or smthg). Happy ending please !

Moth’s prophecy💡: Thank you to the anonymous cryptid for the request, I tweaked it a bit but still kept the main plot, and I hope you and the other poly enjoyers will like it ! Thanks again for the support and great ideas !

“Okay one… two… three… and posted !” You threw yourself in Charles’ arms as he clicked on the button and threw his phone away immediately, catching both you and Alex in a cuddle.

“You did it !” Alexandra pinched at his cheeks and you ruffled his hair, hands trembling with excitement.

Finally his ice-cream brand, Lec, was out, the main announcement posted on Instagram. The end of countless sleepless nights and never ending zoom calls, meetings at the worst time possible, and secrets to keep. Of course, now the promotion would be another handful, but at least the three of you would deal with it together. And you had always been pretty good at supporting your lovers.

You got into a more comfortable position on Charles’ lap, head resting against his, as Alexandra had gotten up and started her, as she called it, “happy dance”, which consisted mostly in jumping in circles screaming until she got dizzy. As you snorted, Alexandra very clearly loosing balance, Charles took your hand in his, softly rubbing it with his fingers.

“Thank you… I know it hasn’t been easy to deal with this on top of the races and everything… You’ve been amazing. I’ll never be able to thank you enough.” You could not help a smirk from coming up your lips, and thought this was the time to charge again.

“I know how you can repay me…” You straddled him, and as he did his best to appear confident and in charge, his blush betrayed his shyness. Alex had stopped spinning, seemingly much more interested in what was taking place on the couch. “Maybe you could…” You got closer to him, and peppered his neck with kisses until you got to his ear, in which you whispered as seductively as you could. “Maybe you could get me a dog ?”

He immediately rolled his eyes and playfully pushed you away as you laughed at his bright red cheeks. You had dreamt of having your own dog for so long, specifically a longhaired dachshund, and both Alex and Charles had said no multiple times. Charles’ arguments were mainly that he was away too often to properly care for it, and your girlfriend, who called the breed “hairy sausages”, argued she would have to deal with all the responsibilities of it because both yours and Charles’ works took a lot of time. And though she actually found dogs very cute, she did not have an interest big enough for them to manage her schedule around one.

You had pleaded to Lewis to use Roscoe to convince them, managed to go partly remote with your job, and flooded their messages with videos of dogs almost daily. At this point, you were seriously considering getting one in secret just to see how long it would take for them to realize, and then argue it is too late to give it back.

“Sure.” What ? You sat straight up on Charles as he pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. You couldn’t have heard well. You turned to Alex, who shrugged.

“I can’t deal with seeing you cry over reels anymore, and Mimi’s pretty cute.” She gave you a warm smile. Mimi was your friend’s dog, the one who got you into dachshund in the first place.

“You’re not serious, are you ? You’re just in a good mood. You’re joking.” Charles actually laughed, and you thought your heart wouldn’t be able to handle a prank.

“Promis juré ma princesse. Why not, you want one, you can take care of it, who am I to deny you ? Let’s get you a dog.”

No matter how well isolated was your apartment, you thought you would be lucky if no neighbors came to complain tomorrow. There was a lot to celebrate for one night.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I really need you to give Leo back, we’re going to take pictures…” Searching desperately for support in Alex’s eyes, you felt sick when you saw her staring at the ground. You were so shaken you let the event coordinator take the puppy from your arms and give him to Alexandra, who sheepishly turned her back to you and walked towards the press wall.

Charles himself was nowhere and everywhere at once, it was no use trying to get him to advocate for you. Too stressed by the beginning of the racing season combined with the launching events for Lec, he had mindlessly agreed to most of his agent’s suggestions, including playing what the Ferrari PR team had called “happy family”. Following the announcement of Carlos’ replacement, they needed good news to balance, and thought emphasizing Charles’ couple and furry kid would pull at a few heartstrings. But in their good Italian traditional beliefs, there was no place for a third, and since you had always been more busy, and therefore more discreet, than Alexandra, the cut had been made. They were to be the hit couple for a while, in a vain but admittedly successful attempt at calming the fans.

You had had little to no say, Charles having always been your voice in those kinds of businesses, and Alexandra being media trained to perfection. You thought back on your promises, on your dedication to be supportive of them, and decided the best thing to do would be to go get some air. It wasn’t as if you would be missed anyway.

As you stepped on one of the secluded balconies, the cold breeze of the night came to slap your face, and without anyone’s arms or jacket to comfort you, you suddenly felt very lonely. The evening had dragged on enough, you just wanted to go home. Debating between taking a cab or waiting for your lovers, you took out your phone, only to be flooded by notifications from your socials. You barely used them, so had no idea why they would be so active all of a sudden.

Both Instagram and Twitter greeted you with the same pictures taken either by fans or paparazzis. You shopping with Carlos’s girlfriend, Leo trotting happily by your side, as well as another few at a restaurant with friends, where Leo was sleeping on your lap while Charles and Alex were somewhere in the background, probably discussing going dancing after. The usual. But this time, all the comments seemed to agree on one thing. The dog wasn’t yours.

“Did they lend her the dog for the day ?”. “Leo’s godmother.” “Is she gonna be the babysitter while they’re gone ?” “Me when my friends get a baby”.

You three had always been private, but not secret. People made their own opinions anyway, and you did not care much about polishing a public persona. You did not use socials, Alex had private accounts, and Charles’ were managed by his PR team. In the end, even though you had dated Alexandra since high school, and Charles for a bit more than a year, the lack of official pictures or announcement, coupled with Ferrari’s new strategy, only served as validation to those who affirmed the real couple were Alexandra and Charles.

You felt sick, cold, and particularly lonely. Cab it would be.

“Babe what are you doing outside like that, you’ll get a cold !” You felt his jacket fall on your shoulders before you even heard him walk up to you. Ears buzzing, eyes watering, you weren’t sure you were able to face him.

“I’m gonna go home. I’ll leave you with your girlfriend and your dog if you don’t mind.” When you turned to him, you saw right behind one of the girls in charge of the party holding Leo, and your blood started boiling again. Charles was looking at you all confused, and you felt an itch to slap him.

“What ? What are you on about ? How ‘bout you come back inside, I think Leo misses you.” He chuckled, and you thought a full punch would probably be better than a slap.

“I don’t think your dog misses me.” The words felt like poison in your mouth, but you wanted him to get it. To understand how ridiculous this situation was getting. And why wouldn’t the girl put him down, he was clearly uncomfortable in her arms ? Why was no one taking it seriously ?

“Leo’s your dog, Y/N, I don’t get it…”

“Then give him back to me !” You screamed and the puppy yapped back, before jumping from the assistant’s arms, who shrieked and struggled to get him back. Too late, he had found your arms before she managed to pull the leash. “You should probably talk with your team, Charles.” He frowned at the use of his name, which almost always meant you were pissed. “Goodnight.”

As they finished filling their suitcases, you thought back on this evening, and that you probably should have shut your mouth. Following Lec’s launching party, what you hoped would be a wake up call for your lovers turned into something even worse. Charles was indeed called in for a talk with the PR team. And then Alex too. Your turn never came, and the more the days passed, the more it appeared your relationship was being taken over by management and marketing teams.

The following weeks had been a blur of unspoken tensions and meaningless routines. Breakfast alone, walking Leo only in the areas pre-approved to avoid pictures, going to work without him and coming home to new communication materials published with his face on it, work calls for your boyfriend stretching into the night, and your girlfriend going out so often it seemed her side of the bed was getting colder with each passing day. They both seemed to have undergone a sad transformation, their fiery and protective spirits dampened by forced compromises. Something told you they had been pushed to agree to the new directive, and yet you couldn’t help but stay mad at them. You understood Charles. The pressure he was under, the expectations of the whole team, the weight of his responsibilities. But Alexandra, you had known for too long. She had never been one to bow down and blindly agree to unfair decisions. She had loved you, through good and bad. She had promised you, together forever. And now she kept her hands by her side on the street and you wondered when her clothes had stopped smelling like you.

They kissed you goodbye, promised you mountains of gifts and a magnificent restaurant when they returned, but the door had not even closed when you fell crying to your knees. You had moved to the couch and slept there, your puppy watching over you, when your mother knocked on the door the following morning.

“Happy birthday darling !” She opened her arms and you ran in them, grabbing at your siblings behind her to get them in the hug too.

You had hoped to be out of tears by now, having spent the night reading articles speculating on why you were living with Formula 1 hottest couple -were you a distant relative ? A friend of Alex in need of a place to crash ?-, but the warm embrace of family members you hadn’t seen for months was enough to bring you back to the edge.

“Where are my favorite in-laws ?” She was beaming as she settled her belongings on the kitchen counter. “Oh that’s my baby grandson, come here baby !” She took Leo in her arms and you thought you had more time to breathe, but your younger brother tugged at your sleeve.

“Can Charlie take me on the boat ? I learned how to do a backflip at school and he can film me do it from the boat and then the others are gonna be so jealous and” You put your hand on his head and ruffled his hair softly.

“I’m sorry… Charles isn’t there. Alex too.” Your mother furrowed her brows and gave you a puzzled look. “Race weekend, and they were expected at an event they couldn’t cancel.” Your voice, barely above a whisper, was already shaking. You felt your tears ready to spill over, and gritted your teeth. “Last minute decision.”

Your brother only groaned and ran to the balcony to look at the port, already over it, but your mother came to hold your hand, and you exchanged a look of “we’ll talk about it later”.

Unfortunately, by the time you all came back from your evening out, and the kids were in bed, your mother was faced with the situation without leaving you any time to explain.

“Y/N, dear, come here please…” You sat next to her with two glasses of wine, and looked over her shoulder to her phone, where she had some celebrities gossip website open. “Is that the event they couldn’t cancel for your birthday ?” Her tone was cold, and you took at better look at the pictures.

A sunset movie-worthy, one of those that always brought tears to your eyes. A small table with candles and flowers on the beach, cocktails so colorful you could almost taste them from afar. Holding hands, looking at each other like the world had stopped, your lovers were apparently having the time of their life in a romantic restaurant, on your birthday evening. You took out your own phone. No messages.

The panic attack struck you without warning. Your heart had clenched all at once, and despite your mother’s attempt at laying you on your back, your muscles kept you rolled in a ball. You felt as if every breath was tearing apart your lungs, and could feel your heartbeat from your ears to the tip of your fingers. You could vaguely hear her talking to you, but it was as if a wall was standing between you, yet her touch felt very close, too close, as if her usually soft fingers were now burning your arms. Was it the end ? Was it how your great love story ended, alone on a Saturday night, crying so much you were drooling on the couch ? Your body was aching like never before, were you about to pass out ? To simply die ?

In the end you only managed to fall asleep after your mom calmed you down. You thought before closing your eyes that even your pain was disappointing.

You were helping your siblings pack up their bags when they came home, arms filled with packages. The little ones jumped to them, glad to have at least been able to say hello before leaving, but your mother stayed by your side, not even greeting them. She thanked them coldly for the gifts, and pushing the children towards the door, gave you a sympathetic look. She said she would always be there for you. She said you could come home if needed. But when Leo jumped on the couch and laid next to you, you knew no matter how painful it was, your home was here and there. You just needed time. You would figure it out, together. But not tonight. Tonight you just wanted out.

“Happy belated birthday, princesse.” Charles said tentatively, his voice tinged with uncertainty as he gestured to the mountain of gifts piled on the table. Alex sat by your side, but you got up before she could hold your hand.

“I don’t want your gifts. I want an apology. Think well about what you’ve done.” You kissed your puppy’s head and left the apartment immediately.

Almost running in the hallways and stairs, you got to his door panting. You knew he was back, they always made the journey together. So when he opened the door, clearly exhausted and surprised to see you, you broke down once again.

“I’m sorry Max… can I come in ?” He immediately closed the door behind you and called for his girlfriend, while his step daughter Penelope came to hug your legs. You collapsed on their sofa, shoulders shaking with silent sobs, unable to find the words to explain the depth of your pain. Kelly and Penelope tried to soothe you with soft voices and hugs, but Max only managed to pace the room, his jaw clenched in anger.

“What the hell happened ?” He had always been so sweet to you, so welcoming in this unfamiliar world. You felt bad for seeking comfort in his home after he had just came back. But the gates were opened, and while you cried, you still managed to make out a few words, enough for the couple to piece out the situation.

Penelope stayed close to you, hugging you with all the warmth a child could muster, while Kelly had been forced to stand in front of the door to prevent your friend from committing murder. They were now arguing silently, and you felt your eyes get heavier by the minute, strangely lulled to sleep by their hushed whispers. You had finally put words on what was happening, and the little girl’s cuddles had managed to calm you down to the point of dozing off.

“I think you should take her home.” Kelly murmured, still worried.

Max nodded in agreement, and he carefully scooped you in his arms, cradling you against his chest as he carried you back to your apartment. Charles was standing in the doorway, Alex pacing behind him, and both let him pass, faces etched with concern.

“You two stay right there.” Max’s voice was sharp, commanding not to argue. He laid you down in your bed, tucking the covers around you and stroking your hair until sleep finally claimed you. When he tried to leave the apartment, your two lovers were still standing by the door, begging to be heard.

“Max, please, what’s going on…” Alexandra tried to get close but he immediately took a step back, and pointed his finger at her.

“You had your chance to make things right by staying this weekend. You blew it up. Take your responsibilities.” He then turned to Charles, and almost spat to his face. “And you… I thought family was supposed to always come first. Maybe I was wrong.” His face was distorted with anger, and his knuckles white on the door handle. “You two have to man up for once in your fucking life. Either you tell Ferrari, and everyone who’s putting their noise in your business, to fuck off, or you loose her.”

With that, he slammed the door, leaving Charles and Alexandra with the consequences of their actions. They knew they had been fooled. Manipulated. Two nights ago, when the pictures of them had been taken, they were having one of the worst conversation possible. One they wanted to share with you as soon as possible, and in person, and not on your birthday. They were now wondering how they could do so without sounding like liars.

Would you trust them ? Believe Charles, when he would tell you the PR team had said you weren’t cut for fame, that the spotlights were obviously making you stressed, that you would be happier away from it all ? Believe Alex, when she would admit that they had threatened her with your boyfriend’s career, as well as your own, reminding her that she had never needed to work, and that if she loved the both of you, she should let professionals handle the situation ? Believe them, when they would say that’s what they talked about at the restaurant, and that their look of love was captured when they thought of you home, and wished you were with them ?

They weren’t sure. The thought that you could decide to end it all, and you would be smart to do so, frightened them. When they finally went to bed, hands shaking and eyes wet, each one cuddling by your side, hoping this night would not be the last, you did not even wake up.

“Still not forgiven ?” Max pushed Charles’ shoulder softly, half teasing him, half genuinely concerned for his friend, even though he hated to admit it. He had moved away from the group of men having a drink in the shared garden of their building, and had been staring at the moon for too long for someone in a good mood.

“I don’t know… She keeps saying everything is fine, but it’s clearly not. Even when we told her of our meetings, she was like… she agreed with them ?” Charles turned to his friend, disbelief written all over his face. “Said they knew what they were talking about, that it was for the best. Keeps walking behind us in the street, encourages us to go out just us two, even refuses to hold Leo when there are fans ! Her own dog, Max !” Charles felt the arm of the taller man lay on his shoulder, and he rested his head in the embrace, sighing.

As he was about to turn for a full hug, he heard Carlos whistle from the table, and Daniel signed at them to get back and away from the hedges.

“Paps.” The Aussie simply said when they got back, pointing a finger at the light of a camera through the bushes. “What a waste of money living here if they still manage to get in.” Max groaned and started to pick up the bottles, inciting everyone to go back inside.

“What a pain those fuckers…” He grumbled, clearly annoyed to not be able to enjoy his evening out with friends without the sound of camera shutters ruining everything. “What fucking interest is there to our lives, go get one of your own or something for god’s sake…” Everyone agreed but still followed him to one of the shared inside spaces, frustration hanging heavy in the air.

As they settled around the pool table, anecdotes about obsessive fans and annoying paparazzis were shared, but Charles’ mind was drifting elsewhere. An idea had begun to take root, a small glimmer of hope for his relationship, to maybe get back his girlfriend, before sadness had taken over most of her. He chugged down the rest of his drink, and called for the attention of his friends.

“What if… what if we used the paps ? What if I said fuck you to Ferrari without dealing with the legal issues ?” A spark appeared in their eyes, and in their last sober decision, they called Alexandra to come down, all agreeing she would be their voice of reason.

Oblivious to it all, you were reading in bed when the gathering happened, and would never know of it.

Only a few days later was the plan put into action. Charles’ idea of using actual paparazzis was turned down by Alex, who reminded the boys of the consequences on their careers if anyone found out who made the call. Despite his drunken arguments of being ready to fuck it all for his girls, soundly supported by his friends, she had found a much safer solution.

When you stepped on the huge balcony, you felt tears come to your eyes, happy ones, for the first time in weeks. Your lovers had crafted a perfect romantic dinner for you, straight out of a movie. The table was laid out for three, candles lit up and rose petals everywhere on the ground. A bottle of expensive champagne was chilling in a bucket of ice, waiting to be popped podium-style, and Leo was waiting by the door with a little bow tie on his collar. You had missed being just the three of you, no waitress, no management, no friends, just a homemade dinner and loving looks.

So when they took you in their arms, wrapping you in love and affection, peppering your skin with kisses and sweet compliments, you simply gave in without a care for anything else. You hugged and kissed until you had no breath left, and let them treat you, for you had deserved it.

Yet the whole time, unbeknownst to you, Daniel and Max had been stationed right under your balcony, hidden from view as they snapped pictures of the intimate scene unfolding. They did their best to capture every shared glance and affectionate touch, every kiss and hug that would make it impossible to deny the love shared between you. They had all warned paparazzis were roaming in the area the night before, which would make the whole thing even more believable for the PR teams. The secret mission was going to perfection, and when you retreated indoors with a seductive wink to your partners, Charles and Alexandra gave a subtle thumbs up to the boys to signal the end of the work for tonight.

As you awoke to the gentle rays of sunlight through the curtains you had not closed well last night, a sense of peace came over you for the first time in a while. Yesterday’s romantic dinner, and night, was still fresh in your mind and body, and you smiled when greeted with your lovers’ sleeping faces when you turned in the bed. Reaching as quietly as possible for your phone, your soft morning suddenly turned to hell as you saw hundreds of notifications and missed calls appear on the lock screen.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you scrolled them all. Missed calls from Ferrari. Messages from long lost friends. And obviously, dozens and dozens of pictures plastered across every gossip account related to Formula 1. It seemed an anonymous account had taken and posted pictures of your very private dinner during the night, and then disappeared, right after the pictures had been reposted everywhere.

With trembling hands, you turned to look at Charles and Alexandra, still sleeping peacefully by your side. Instead of finding solace in their presence, a wave of dread washed over you, the fear of losing everything you held dear threatening to consume you whole. Would this be the breaking point for them ? Would Ferrari ask you to move out ? Would they all lie, deny completely your existence ?

The sound of Leo’s plaintive cries echoed through the room, snapping your partners from their slumber. They came even closer to you, filled with concern as your breathing got more and more erratic, tears streaming down your face. They took turns kissing away your tears and whispering words of comfort until you managed to give them your phone, as well as theirs. You tried regulating your breathing as they scrolled, and sat down, expecting a tough conversation straight after.

Alex simply threw her phone away after not even two minutes of screen time, coming back to lay her head on your chest and faking purring. Charles sighed, and opened the camera of his phone. Had they asked him to make an apology video ? He turned the camera to Leo, and added his hand to where Alex’s fingers were already intertwined with yours. Snapping a pic of the small dog with your three hands next to him, he immediately posted it on his story on Instagram, which he had apparently gotten back the login details for, with the caption “Family 4️⃣❤️”.

“About time it was out officially, right love ?” Charles stroked your cheek lovingly while your girlfriend hummed in agreement, nuzzling closer to you. “I was thinking your red dress for the event next week, and we could get me a new suit but” He kept rambling on, his phone buzzing non stop on his side table, head in the crook of your neck. Too stunned to speak, you simply laid back in the bed and let him talk your ear off. It wasn’t over then ?

By the time of the next Lec event, you were sure it was far from over. Alex was holding your hand, and you had gotten matching nails the day before. Charles had insisted you were the only one to wear red tonight, and he kept you as close as physically possible, one hand always on your waist. The little pup struggled to find his place in all this affection, but you made sure to keep him in your arms whenever he needed comfort, and otherwise refused to give the leash to anyone else. When Charles’ agent came to warn you there would be trouble, Alex stepped in front of you with the look of defiance you had always loved, and simply told him “With all due respect, fuck off.” Charles shrugged, saying this wasn’t a Ferrari event anyway, and smiled as he took you two away.

You finally stood tall and proud, at peace and at home. The party was quite private, you were mostly surrounded by friends and well-wishers, and one in particular came to greet you with the biggest smile on his face.

“As pretty as ever querida !” Carlos took you in his arms, and gave a small pet to Leo’s head. He congratulated you, and gesturing to the PR team seemingly having a breakdown in the corner of a room, he chuckled. “The only thing I won’t miss at Ferrari is their shitty strategy.” He winked at you before going back to the buffet, not without a last word “It’s clear the only happy family they should advertise is you three, with how they’re looking at you.”

You turned back to meet their eyes. Charles raised his glass to you, and Alex’s smile was brighter than the neon lights. You felt filled with pride, love, a sense of validation like no other. You thought of your mother, of her warm embrace and comforting words. You hoped she would see the pictures of tonight. You hoped she knew you had a home away from home in them. And so you ran to them, and laughed until your cheeks hurt, and danced until the lights went out, and promised to love until the very last star in the sky burnt out.

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cursedcatvibes · 1 month ago

Text

KILLSHOT!

re4r!fuckboy leon x fuckgirl reader

word count: 5.9k

summary: Leon is only really a fuckboy because of some sort of childhood trauma thing. He doesn’t want to be forgotten, growing up ugly isn’t something he wanted to be remembered by so when he got his glow up he obviously used his looks to his advantage. But what happens when he starts to hear another name other than his own making rounds, everyone is raving about this person and Leon doesn’t like this. Is he jealous of them? Or is he actually jealous he hadn’t gotten to experience it yet?

tags/warnings: Minors DNI! Smut, 18+. Complicated emotions, slight mask kink, using of drugs, drugs mentioned, alcohol slightly mentioned, college ditzy bimbo talking, fingering, cowgirl, praise, characters from other franchises mentioned, halloween party, stalking-ish.. not proof read

A/N: hello! i have not been active in a few months oh my gosh.. literally sickening but life is literally sickening in itself? so.. but anyways, i had this idea strike me and it’s taken so long for me to punch it out because i kept changing the plot and rewriting and deleting shit because i didn’t like it. sue me! but yeah i forced myself to sit and write all day, so if some of the plot is not consistent i apologize! i actually got slight inspiration from pawgleon.. like the way the characters speak. i think she portrays bimbo and ditzy talk very well! (this is me partaking in kinktober)

Songs! ^^

Killshot (Slowed + Reverb) - Magdalena Bay

Rehab - Brent Faiyaz

Yummy - Ayesha Erotica

Like a Dream - Thomas LaRosa

Poison- Brent Faiyaz

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Leon’s always made a name for himself ever since Junior year in highschool. He had been considered ugly up until that point, had a bunch of acne (just like a normal growing teenager would), wore glasses, and his voice was still a little high-pitched because his balls had yet to drop. So what? Most boys are late bloomers! Definitely nothing to be insecure about.

He got picked on a lot and all the girls he liked never liked him back, always made fun of him whenever they could and called him a weird freak. But that all changed one summer when he got back to school for the new year.

He had gained a skincare routine, traded his glasses for contact lenses, and even started working out. It made him feel good about himself and it gave him the confidence to say fuck you to everyone else.

When he strolled into school however, it proved to be different almost immediately.

Here he was thinking he would have to defend himself again this year but people actually seemed to like him, girls he had never spoken to in his life started coming up to him. All pretty and perky too.

Now all of the sudden everyone wanted to fuck him and he was overjoyed. He quickly lost his virginity not even a month into starting the new school year, it took him a long while to perfect his craft but soon he got pretty good at knowing a woman’s body, men too.

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A few years later and now he’s in college with a reputation of being a fuckboy. It wasn’t a bad thing for him, considering the fact that he was able to get out the pent up stress college applied onto him.

Leon always got to pick his fruit of the night daily, sometimes even more than once a day. He didn’t have to worry about girls trying to get into relationships with him because of his reputation, one, and two, he was always up front about how he didn’t want to date anyone.

He was 1000% sure that if someone could be labeled as best fuck/hookup he would qualify for first every single time.

Well that’s what he originally thought until he started hearing another name going around, almost as often as his own. He was curious about who this person was, he wondered if they were as good as him for this many people to be buzzing about them.

It only took him a couple of minutes asking around before he found out the full name of the person and what class they were in. Surprisingly they were in the morning class of the same lesson that Leon took except his was more in the afternoon.

No wonder they haven’t crossed paths. No worries, he’s sure that a person like him must be cool enough to become friends with.

Oh how wrong he was.

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You had a decent up bringing growing up, didn’t struggle academically and you weren’t bad looking but you weren’t good looking either. Just plain. No one paid much mind to you in middle school.

It was completely fine with you, no drama, no names to remember, and no one to pick on you. You could honestly say you enjoyed it.

No one bothered you up until you hit puberty, you noticed almost immediately that people started treating you differently. It was strange at first, getting used to everyone trying to butter you up for one thing only.

You didn’t see much of an issue because you didn’t care, you didn’t see virginity as a big deal either. Now you weren’t a hoe or passed around, you just had sexual relations with whomever.

You were pretty ecstatic about going to college you had aspirations and dreams, that dream job wasn’t going to be easy. You needed to have a proper education and a little experience in that field before you even tried.

It was also well known in college that you get to sleep around with whoever you want and receive no consequences.

But never raw, you definitely weren’t trying to get pregnant before your life properly started. You applauded the women who did have babies this early in life and still make something of themselves but you could barely take care of yourself on a daily let alone a whole other little human.

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You sat there in the middle row of the lecture, bored out of your mind. You stared at the chalkboard and occasionally glanced down at your notebook to doodle or something to make it appear you were paying attention. It was just an extra class you were forced to do for extra credits before the end of the semester.

Leon on the other hand was sat in the back row of that same class, he somehow managed to weasel his way into the same extracurricular as you so he could spy on you, a feeling of unease brewing in his belly as he watched you.

He didn’t trust you, he didn’t think you were a whore. That’s kinda hypocritical of him but he was put off by your presence. Maybe a little bit jealous of you and how you managed to make a name for yourself. It was almost like he was challenging you mentally. A challenge you yourself wasn’t even aware of.

He glanced up at the clock when he noticed people getting up, he collected his stuff immediately and quietly followed behind you. Leon felt like he was being a bit stalker ish but he wanted answers. Plus it’s not like he was doing it to be a pervert.

He watched as you met up with some friends to go study in the library, obviously he was still shadowing you from afar. His nose shoved inside a book in the far corner in the library but close enough to spy on you from a distance.

He didn’t gain much information, you were hard working with a flirtatious personality, it was kind of hard for him to gather anything from this. But he overheard you and your friends talking about going to a party, his head perked up a bit like a dog smelling a delicious treat.

He wasn’t sure why but he felt this strange feeling wash over him, could he confront you there? But why was he trying to confront you? In all honesty he wasn’t sure, he just knew that he was jealous and scared that he would become a nobody again.

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You and your friends spoke happily about the most random stuff, like who got who pregnant, followed by did you see this new show? The topics never truly stayed on one solid one unless the whole group had a deep connection to it.

So it didn’t surprise you that a party happening later that night was mentioned. “It’s a costume party?” You asked curiously and your friend chuckled and nudged you with her elbow. “Oh my god, like yeah. Obviously. It’s halloween.” Ashley giggled and the rest of them did too.

“That’s so lame.” You murmured, twirling your pencil around in your hand. “Like.. this is the start of a bad hallmark movie or something.” You said as your lips pulled up into a thin line.

Your friends shrugged and they obviously knew you would go anyways, you glanced around the library per usual. Something you did just as a random habit and you spotted someone looking at you.

You frowned a bit as you watched the guy look away and bury his face back in his book. How strange? “What a weirdo.” Your friend, Jill, spoke up and it startled you a bit. “Huh?” You turned back to her and she stared at the guy before looking back at you.

“Do you know him?” She asked and you shook your head no. “Yeah.. I thought so. He kept glancing over here and I thought it was all in my head.” Jill mumbled softly as if to keep it between the both of you. With a nod of agreement from you Jill joined back into the conversation.

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Leon on the other hand was burning red in embarrassment, you had looked right at him and made a face. Now he looked creepy. He should just leave the library now or something, anything! But he stayed glued to his seat, straining his ears to eavesdrop on your table.

After a while he watched you all get up and leave, he sighed softly and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Nice going, Kennedy. You’ve outdone yourself and now you look like a creep.” He muttered in annoyance.

He quickly packed his stuff up and exited the library, shooting his friends a quick text before heading towards his dorm. He needed a Halloween costume now.

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Halloween shopping didn’t take long for your group of friends. All of you got ready in Claire’s dorm because it was spacious and she was the one who got the best one because rumor had it her brother fucked one of the deans for special privileges and Claire used it as blackmail for herself.

Everyone in that dorm knew it was far from the truth, she was just a good student and because of that she got special treatment alongside Chris.

Ashley was busy doing her makeup when she looked over at you who was staring at the costume you had got. “You okay?” She asked and you turned around to look at her. It was obvious to everyone she would go as Harley Quinn. It suited her. Is what you thought before responding.

“I’m questioning if this is too much.” You responded and Jill perked up. “Definitely not. It’s actually beneficial because it’ll probably be super hot at that party so the less clothes the better.” She murmured mindlessly as she put on her realistic wig..

Ashley and Claire glanced over at Jill before bursting out in a fit of giggles. “This is why we keep Jill on a high pedestal. She’s like super smart and pretty. It’s a two for one.” Ashley grinned and you chuckled softly.

Claire slung her arm over your shoulder and tugged you close. “Besides you’ll be matching with me, and y’know if someone bothers you and you don’t want them Chris will stand up for us.” She pinched your cheek gently and you swatted her hand away with a whine.

“Fine, you have a point.” You relented with raised hands as if you surrender. Claire smiled and grabbed her costume to change into.

Ashley put her hair up into two pigtails and grabbed the spray of temporary hair dye. “So.. Luis is going to be there.” She beamed, and everyone in the room rolled their eyes. “Ashley, you are such a simp for him.” Claire huffed and you and Jill nodded in agreement.

“Okay well it’s not my fault okay! It’s gotta be his stupid accent.” Ashley grumbled softly, pouting as she did so. When she turned around after staring at the vanity mirror for so long she smiled seeing everyone in their costumes.

Jill is Tiffany Valentine from the Chucky franchise, Ashley is Harley Quinn from the DC franchise, Claire is Starfire, and you are Raven.

You purse your lips as you hold the cape up between your fingertips. “You know for the longest time I had no idea what she was saying.” You admitted and everyone but Jill agreed. “You didn’t watch it with subtitles?” She laughed and you shook your head no with a grin.

“I thought she was just speaking gibberish.” You said and it just made everyone laugh harder as they gathered their things to get ready to leave. “Yeah because they would make one of their main characters speak gibberish everytime she used her powers.” Claire teased and you turned red with embarrassment but also laughter as you all walked out the door.

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Leon on the other hand was pre gaming in his dorm room with his friends, Carlos, Chris, and Luis. “Dude you know how many hot chicks are going to be there?” Chris murmured as he slipped into a brown jacket, pulling gloves onto his hands while searching for his Jason Vorhees mask.

“I'm definitely scoring tonight.” Carlos said as he messed with his hair, a soft hum leaving his lips. Leon shrugged, not very interested in hooking up with anybody. He was more interested in trying to one up you.

Luis sat next to Leon on the couch and stared at him for a second. “¿Qué pasa, Sancho?” He asked, tilting his head at the blonde who seemed to be anxious. “Nothing. Just.. thinking. I guess.” He replied, rubbing his nape.

Luis cocked his eyebrow up and narrowed his eyes at Leon suspiciously. “Well, whatever it is. I’m here if you wanna talk.” He assured, placing his hand on Leon’s shoulder. Leon nodded and grabbed his Ghostface mask.

“Are we all ready?” Chris asked as Carlos was putting on his gloves with fake claws on them. He had the signature Freddy Krueger colors on while Luis had the iconic blue jumpsuit and Michael Myers mask. Once everyone was ready they set off to the party, Leon swallowed anxiously under his mask.

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The first thing you were met with when you entered the frat house was a mess, a mess of drunk and high people. You made a face at the smell of sweat and sex filling the air. Have some decorum people. You grimaced as you were dragged through the party.

Somehow ending up in the living room with everyone in your friend group. “They have coke! Oh my gosh, I’ve like totally wanted to try it.” Ashley beamed and grabbed you. “C’mon let’s all do a line, when’s the next time you’ll be offered coke or something. We’ll be all old with wrinkles.” Ashley whined, trying to convince Claire and Jill who sighed and reluctantly agreed.

“Okay but doesn’t this like burn?” You questioned.

“What? Like Molly?” Ashley raised her eyebrow.

“No—Like doesn’t it burn your nostrils?” You raised an eyebrow back at her.

Jill sighed and picked up a straw that was on the table along with random lines of coke on the glass surface while you and Ashley argued over something as tedious as whether it’ll go down smoothly.

Claire followed in pursuit of Jill and did a line too, squeezing her eyes shut as she sniffled. “Jeez, that shit is strong..” She muttered as she pinched her nostrils, Jill nodded heavily in agreement.

“I forgot you’re the fucking coke queen of America. That’s my bad.” You huffed softly.

Ashley rolled her eyes and went to reach for a straw for you only to see Claire and Jill holding them. “You guys did it without us!!” She complained and you just sighed.

“Ash, we can just do a line right now.” You murmured which seemed to calm her down enough to keep her tantrum at bay. She holds your hand and leans down in sync with you as you both snorted a line.

At the same time you both did, Leon and his goon squad arrived at the party and everyone started cheering. Garnering the attention of all of you kneeled at the table.

You wiped away the residue on your nose and sniffled, narrowing your eyes at Leon for a second as he put on his Ghostface mask and his face was hidden again. He looked.. familiar.

You tried to ponder where you saw him at, but you just shrugged it off. Whatever. Probably nowhere.

Jill glanced over at Chris a few times while Claire was eyeing Carlos. Ashley immediately bounced up and was about to scurry over to Luis. You grabbed onto her wrist before she could run off.

“Ashley! Are you seriously ditching us for Luis?” You stared at her, trying to gauge her reaction.

“What? Noo—I would definitely not. ‘M just being friendly. I’ll totally come back.” She replied in her usual manner, which gave away that she was lying. You reluctantly let her go and she scurried off.

You sighed heavily as you watched Claire and Jill give each other a knowing look. “You guys too?!” You groaned out and they gave you a sheepish smile. “We’ll come back, we have our phones on sound and we’ll all go home together.” Jill assured, placing her hand on your thigh.

“You guys hate me.” You frowned with a slight pout and Claire pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Pinky promise we’ll come back.” She whispered and you took her pinky in your own. “Okay. Promise.” You sighed out.

Then you watched Claire and Jill disappear, probably to go curl up with Chris and Carlos. You weren’t very amused, the only reason you came was to hang out with them but Leon and his stupid friends came and ruined it.

Whatever. Least you had some entertainment, the coke on the table and the promise of alcohol.

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Leon smirked as he entered the party, he knew he was hot shit. But that lingering fear that he would be some name in the past still brewed within him. Which is why he agreed to tag along. The only question was where were you?

He sauntered deeper into the party with his friends until one by one they were plucked away by girls he recognized from your friend group. He pursed his lips beneath his mask, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips as he glanced around.

It’s as if fate itself had its way of showing itself as you stumbled into the kitchen, not dressed in much. His eyes widened in surprise as you walked to the punch bowl that was probably spiked by now and got yourself a cup of juice.

He watched from the corner of his eye in awe as you licked the rim of the cup to clean the few drops of juice you got on the side of the cup. He gulped and chastised himself, no he wasn’t supposed to be staring at you like some lovesick maniac. He was trying to prove himself tonight.

He would plow through so much pussy tonight it would leave you behind in the dust. Or at least that’s what he hoped.

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As the night lingered on you got more wasted to forget about the fact you got ditched for some dick. You couldn’t say you were surprised and honestly you were contemplating getting laid. But there was something uneasy about tonight.

Every room you slowly made your way into you saw some guy in the Ghostface costume making out with some girl, borderline groping each other over their clothes. At first you thought it was different guys until you got a good look at the face of the man behind the mask twice to realize it was the same guy with different girls each time. Weirdo. Is all you thought but you were smart enough to remember some guys have a game to see who can get the most kisses, hook ups, blowjobs in one night.

Leon on one hand was shocked each time you walked past him like it was nothing, like you just didn’t care. He was sure he could fuck some girl in front of everyone and you wouldn’t pay them any mind. What the hell?

With a growl he was determined to get your attention somehow, it didn’t even register that he was doing all this for your attention. His body reacting on pure instinct as he broke away from the kiss with the girl. A brief apology as he excused himself. Chasing after you as you drunkenly stumbled back to the kitchen.

He stood at a distance watching you rummage through the fridge. “All my friends hate me, oh my god.” You mumbled under your breath as you found nothing to satisfy your hungry belly. A soft pout on your expression until some guy pressed up against you from behind.

You paused for a second before you stood up straight and turned around to see some random guy in a batman costume staring down at you. “Uhm, hello.” You say as he leans down to inspect your costume. “Oh okay. Just go on ahead—“

“Raven? From Teen Titans?” He asked as his eyes met your own again.

“Oh yeah, my friend and I dressed as Raven and Starfire.” You slurred a bit as he rubbed his thumb over your chin. “Oh—Hellooo.” You giggled as the guy placed his other hand on your hip.

“We’re from the same franchise. I think your costume looks really cool.. I’m Brandon” He uttered softly, leaning down to brush his lips against yours and you eagerly reciprocated, whispering your own name into the kiss. You had plans starting to form in your head to go back with this guy to his dorm and hook up with him.

Well, you did at least plan to leave with him. But no way in hell was Leon going to let that happen. He stormed over, his angry expression hidden behind the Ghostface mask, he cleared his throat and tugged you away from the guy.

He glanced between you and the guy in his stupid batman costume. When he realized what he had done he immediately lied on the spot, blurting the first name of your friend that came to mind. “Ashley! Erm—Ashley asked if you could come help her with something.”

You blinked a few times as you processed what was said, realizing that the guy behind the Ghostface costume must know Ashley, which didn’t surprise you. “Oh.”

You bit on your bottom lip and glanced at Brandon. “Sorry. My friend needs me.” You replied and latched onto Leon’s arm. “Lead the way.” You hiccuped.

Leon immediately walked off with you, feeling a sense of pride at the knowledge he ruined that moment for you. Yet when he looked down at your face you didn’t seem to mind, in fact you seemed more worried about your friend.

Leon guided you out the party, letting the fresh air overcome him and you. He didn’t realize how hot it was inside until he stepped outside with you.

“Wait. She left the party?” You stopped in your tracks and gently tugged on Leon’s arm.

“What?” He said, confusion laced in his tone before he remembered the lie he uttered. “Oh yeah—yeah. She uhm, left to go with him but she told him to tell me you needed her.”

You didn’t seem to question him any further, which was a relief for him because he wasn’t sure how much more he could lie as he guided you back to the dorms. More specifically his.

What the fuck am I doing?

Why did I care so much that she was going to kiss some random dude?

Why am I taking her back to my dorm?

I should’ve been on my fourth hook up tonight and yet I haven’t touched any naked body yet.

Leon’s mind raced as he unlocked the door and guided you inside, closing the door behind him and locking it as you called out for Ashley.

“Ashley! Ugh I swear if it’s not something important and you made me miss out on the opportunity to get laid I’m gonna murder you!” You groaned out as you stumbled in your platformed boots; which in theory are horrible to wear while being wasted.

Leon pulled his mask off and tossed it onto his couch, wiping the sweat from his brow before he followed after you, grabbing hold of your wrist to turn you around towards him gently.

“Ew your hands are like.. gross and sweaty.” You made a face of disgust and his nose scrunched up in annoyance.

“Okay that’s a bit rude.” He huffed and looked at you, he would finally be able to see you for you at this moment. It suddenly hit him.

You’re not competition, obviously not if you’re not bragging about your hook up to him, rather your friend who definitely isn’t here.

Hell, you’re just a girl. A girl who he’s jealous of for no reason.

A girl who’s.. really fucking pretty?

His eyes widened as he came to the realization that it wasn’t anger at being replaced, it wasn’t jealousy of hearing your name being uttered time and time again instead of his.

No, that's stupid. I’ll see if she’s really as good as everyone says she is. He was determined to see what was so special about you.

Your nose scrunched up as if mimicking his own expression as you could see different emotions ran across his face. “Uhm hello?—“ You went to wave your hand in front of his eyes when he tightened his grip on you and pulled you in for a kiss with force. Such force that you stumbled.

A quick lie running out of his mouth smoothly as he cupped your face in his hands. “I lied, Ashley didn’t call you here.. I just have such a big crush on you and didn’t know how to express it.” He breathed out as your tongue ran over his bottom lip.

You, to his surprise, didn’t fight back or protest the kiss. You seemed to encourage it more than anything.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s kinda sly of you..” You remarked as you pulled back from the kiss, your lipstick smeared on his soft plump ones. You brought your thumb up to his bottom lip and wiped away as much as you could.

“So what’s your name you big stud.” You teased in a drunken tone, Leon bit his bottom lip and ducked down to capture your lips again. “Leon.” He muttered into the kiss, slowly guiding you to his room with careful steps.

He could tell you were getting tired of how slow he was moving so he patted your thigh to encourage you to hop up. Once you did he grabbed the back of your legs and held you firmly against him, your lips not parting from his own as he stumbled into his bedroom.

He dropped you down onto the bed and finally pulled away. “I have to turn on the lamp..” He mumbled quietly as he reached off to the side to flick the light on. The moonlight helped to illuminate the parts of the room the light didn’t reach fully.

When he looked down at you he felt his heart rate increase. “Fuck.” He cursed and you just smiled at the sight above you.

You reached your hand up to move his hair out of his face. “What? Think I’m pretty or something?” You asked and he nodded, a soft giggle leaving your precious lips.

So precious. He thought as he pressed his left palm above your head against the bed while his other hand came up to cup and fondle your breast above your costume.

You managed to kick your boots off somehow, leaning back against the bed comfortably. “Well that’s sweet of you. I think you’re quite handsome.” You replied as your hair laid spread out behind you.

Leon hesitated for a second, what does he do now? He’s been hooking up with people for awhile now and for once in his life he’s stunned on what to do next. He opens his mouth to speak but all that comes out is a soft moan as you drag his hand up to your mouth to suck on his thumb.

“Hah.. you’re good at that hm?” He cooed, pressing his thumb down against your tongue. With a soft hum from you he adjusted the way he was hovering above you so he could use both hands instead of one.

He dragged his left hand down your torso right down to your pussy, he could feel the heat radiating off of such an intimate part of you. This made his cock throb with want as he pushed the crotch of your costume to the side.

“I guess this costume is pretty much easy access..” He spoke his inner thoughts aloud, watching you blush beneath his watchful gaze before his fingertip brushed against your clit.

You mewled softly and brought your hands up to paw at his chest, wanting his costume off but he clicked his tongue. “Patience. Good things come to those who wait.” He scolded you lightly and gave you a shit eating grin as you frowned.

“You’re like a delicacy.” He explained, rubbing his middle and ring finger through your folds before prodding them against your hole. “You must be handled with care.” He punctuated his words by shoving his fingers inside of you.

You gasped and your back arched off the bed a little. “O-Oh fuck. That feels good.. your fingers are so thick.” You whimpered around his thumb, he snickered softly and pulled his thumb away from your mouth, pressing the wet digit against your clit to rub hard and fast circles against the sensitive little bud while his other hand moved in tandem by fucking his fingers in and out of you.

A slick squelching sound resounding through the room followed by lewd moans coming from you. Who would’ve thought having sex while being high on coke made everything feel ten times better?

“Leon.” You whined softly as your walls clenched down tightly around his fingers. “You’re g’nna make me cum..”

Leon just shrugged and leaned down to nip at your neck. “And? That’s what you want, right baby?” He whispered directly in your ear, sucking on your earlobe. He let out a low chuckle as you cried out a soft yes.

He doubled down on his efforts and you swore you saw stars, definitely. You squealed softly as your orgasm crashed down onto your body like a truck, your cheeks and the tips of your ears turning red and hot with arousal.

“There’s we go. That’s my girl.” He lapped at the pulse point on your neck as you settled down from your high, he took the opportunity to strip himself of his clothes but not before getting a taste of what he was going to be indulging in.

He brought his fingers up to his mouth and swirled his tongue around his own digits, sighing softly as he tasted the sweet essence that he had coaxed out of you.

“God. That shits perfect.” Leon bit his bottom lip as he began to remove his clothes, eyeing you hungrily as his cock sprung up into view.

You mumbled something before sitting up on your elbows, your mouth almost instantly watering at the sight of his dick. “Woah.” You blinked a few times before reaching out to touch.

Accidentally grabbing it too hard made Leon hiss in pleasure. “God damn. Easy baby.” He groaned out, and you winced out a soft apology, letting him guide your hand to be the perfect pressure and pace for him to get off on.

“Wait..” You said suddenly which made Leon pause, staring down at you questioningly. “Can you get your uh.. the mask.” You asked coyly, twirling a strand of your hair around your finger slyly as it registered what you wanted in his head.

“Sure thing.” He chuckled and patted your cheek, disappearing for a second before returning with the mask on his head. You grinned wickedly as he stood near the edge of his bed.

“How do I look—“ He was cut off by you yanking him down onto the bed, straddling him as you smirked. “I’m gonna absolutely ravish you.” You sighed out softly, having already removed your clothes when he stepped out the room.

Leon was quite stunned at the 360 shift in attitude. You were just crying on his fingers a few seconds ago and now you’re practically pinning him down. He placed his hands on your thighs, gently rubbing his thumbs against your soft skin.

“Yeah? What if I want to ravish you?” He retorted and you leaned down to press your bare chest against his own, “You could try.” You slurred quietly, but as the hours went on the more you slightly sobered up.

“Guess I’ll have to try super hard then.” He whispered softly as he grabbed his cock, rubbing the tip of it through your folds with a soft hum. You bit your bottom lip as you eventually sank down on him, the two releasing a soft moan in sync with each other.

It didn’t take long for Leon to start bouncing you on his cock as you rode him with an eager pace, it seems the mask was doing things for you that you yourself weren’t even aware would do.

The wet sounds between the two resounding through the room as skin on skin slapping against each other blended into the mix. “Fuck, you’re so tight.. ‘n wet.. ‘n warm.” He whined, fingers digging into your plush thighs as he bucked his hips up into you.

You nodded in acknowledgment. Your eyes fluttered shut as you could feel that coil in your gut tightening with each thrust and bounce. You knew you were close and so did Leon. “I’m almost there.” He panted out, gulping beneath the mask which was starting to prove to be extremely hot. He was sure he had sweat all over his face and head, if he was to remove the mask he was 99% sure that his hair would be thoroughly damp.

Yet if he could get girls to ride him as crazy and as good as you do he would wear it for every hookup encounter he ever had.

You reached your hands up to start punching and twisting your nipples, fondling your tits to tease him. He grunted loudly as he watched you with bated breath. “Fuck, keep playing with yourself like that. Touch that pretty little clit of yours too.” He gritted out as you did so, causing your walls to clamp down tightly around his cock.

Your jaw dropped as his cock brushed against that spongy spot inside of you that never failed to give you chills. “I-I can’t hold it..” You cried out, hand still moving quickly against your clit. Leon could see your chest rising and falling quickly and he was just a few seconds away from spilling his own seed.

“I know. W-Where do you want it?” He uttered aloud, squeezing his eyes shut and throwing his head back against his bed. “Mm. Inside, please.” You whined, bucking your hips eagerly.

Leon's eyes shot open and his head shot up to stare at you. “Fuck.. that’s so hot. Are you sure?” He was a bit nervous and didn’t want to cum inside of you if you weren’t 100% sure.

With an eager nod you spoke once more. “Yes! God, please! Inside of me, Leon.” You insisted, throwing your head back in pleasure as he thrusted a couple more times before pulling your hips flush against his own, he came before you did and it only took a few quick rubs from you before your orgasm hit you once more.

You practically collapsed on top of him with a heavy breath, resting your head on his chest as he moved his hands up to pull the mask off, finally being free of the sweaty contraption. He wrapped both his arms around you as his cock started to soften within your warm wet walls.

Fuck. He had to admit that the people were right about you being a good fuck.

Especially when you looked up at him with that soft smile but your eyes told a different story as you wiggled your hips a bit, it’s as if he didn’t even start to soften to begin with as he was fully hard within seconds.

Guess he was in for a long night, just as long as you don’t hear the incessant buzzing coming from your phone that was discarded on his nightstand haphazardly from your friends.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fanfic #resident evil #leon kennedy smut #writing ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚#fuckboy!leon #fuckgirl!reader #kinktober

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quirrrky · 1 year ago

Text

. : ･ﾟ✦ ONLY LOVE CAN HURT LIKE THIS

KUROO, BOKUTO, OIKAWA, IWAIZUMI; when you thought your love for them was unrequited, but is it really?

≡ NOTES ⋮ Oikawa's hits different on this one 🥺

KUROO

"Looks good," Kuroo commented over your shoulder—his cheek just a mere few inches from yours. "Nice work as usual, Y/N."

You refused to look at him directly. At least, not this close. Everything about Kuroo was just admirable. He excelled at work, got along with everyone and bore looks that always fit his business attire. Aside from that, you never knew anyone who understood you in the way he did. But you're just colleagues. You knew it was only that for him.

"Are you free tonight?" He pulled back and asked. Finally, you could gaze back at him.

"I have nothing else to do and it's weekend tomorrow. I can spare some time. Is there something I need to revise?"

He placed his hands on his hips. "This is why you're single, Y/N," he sighed. "Go on a date! I know someone. I think you'll like him alot. I could set you two up later."

You forced a smile. Kuroo had been consistent in setting you up with some other guys. It hurt everytime, because you're not interested in them, you wanted him instead. You liked Kuroo a little more than you should and it's hopeless. You were hopeless.

"Fine," you surrendered. Just to put an end to this. You couldn't be hurting everytime he'd ask you to meet someone else for a date.

Evening came and you walked to the meeting place, still trying to accept the reality that Kuroo never liked you in the same way. After all, he asked you to date some other guy and it was totally cool for him to let you be with someone else.

"Y/N!" Kuroo called as he approached you.

"Oh, Kuroo..." You greeted a little melancholic then you looked behind him and around you, "Your friend? Is he....already here?"

"Friend?" He narrowed his eyes. "What friend?"

You tilted your head in puzzlement. "You told me that you'd set me up on a date with someone."

"Yes, I did. But Y/N..." He said, leaning forward and casting a mischievous smirk. "... that someone is me."

You were baffled still couldn't believe that he liked you back.

Kuroo could see the disbelief and joy in your eyes. God, he'd been wanting for things to come to this for so long. Finally, your eyes locked and he inched closer. His lips captured yours in an all-consuming kiss that got you gasping when he pulled your body against his. You felt weak in the knees that you didn't want it to end.

Slowly, he pulled away still pinning your gaze while you were left wanting for more.

"I told you," he whispered to you, closely. "You'll like him alot." He playfully grinned.

And though you wanted to give him a lighthearted slap you couldn't deny that yes, you like him a lot.

BOKUTO

Confident that his team would win, you immediately ran towards Bokuto. A grin widely spread on your face as you went towards the hallway on your way to meet him before he head over to the lockers. Turning to the corner, however you saw him kissing a girl. She was tiptoed with eyes closed as she had his face cradled in her hands.

It crushed you.

Tears instantly pooled at the corners of your eyes and your instinct pushed you to turn back and run away. You were so much in a haste that you bumped into Akaashi without even noticing.

All this time you held affection for your best friend. You never knew that a day would come when you’d feel so much more for him. You tried to fight back the feeling but it turned out unsuccessful like always. Maybe a sliver hope remained in you because you never saw him with someones else until now.

Maybe this was the sign to let go.

You sat at the bench of a bus stop and hugged your bag firmly as tears began to trickle down your cheeks involuntarily. It’s so stupid! Why’re you crying?

“Y/N!” You heard Bokuto’s voice called out to you. His tone, laced with urgency and worry. He sat beside you you and draped an arm across your shoulders. “What’s it? What’s wrong? Akaashi told me you don’t look alright. Hey, Y/N…Are you…are you crying?” You could definitely hear his sad face from his voice.

You just shook your head refusing to look his face. You knew. You knew you couldn’t afford to face him like this.

“Hey, Y/N…answer me.” He begged as he leaned his head against yours like a puppy. “Why’re you crying? What’s wrong? Did I do somethin’? Please tell me. Are you mad at me?”

Still, you’re resisting until he cupped your face and made you look at him. “Hey, hey... you know I love you, right?”

Hearing those words yet you knew it meant different for you teared up caved in and said, “We can’t be friends anymore.”

“But why?” He asked with a pout.

You gripped your bag, mustering all the courage you could. “Because…Because I can’t take seeing you with some other girl.”

“What do you mean?” Bokuto paused for a brief moment, tilting his head while trying to figure things out.

“I saw you….kissing-“

”Oh that! I don’t even know her name. She just suddenly went in for it.” He explained and rubbed the back of his head. “Geez…Y/N if I’d kiss someone, it would rather be you.”

Your eyes widened in shock. “H-Huh?”

”Well, yeah…I’ve always been wantin' to kiss you.” Bokuto leaned his face close to yours. “Do you…”

“Do I...?”

“Do you wanna kiss me too?” He asked and you blushed. One moment you were crying and now your heart was pounding loud.

“I…” You trailed off as got lost in his pleading gaze. Your eyes lulled close and soon you felt his lips soft against yours. It was sweet, slow and magical that when he pulled away you breathlessly muttered, “I love you.”

Bokuto beamed with eyes like he was about to cry out of joy, “I can’t believe it. You finally say it back.”

OIKAWA

It was dumb for a wallflower like you to even believe that Oikawa Tooru, everyone’s dream in your campus, would fall in love with you. It started when he would casually talk to you along the hallway.

Eventually, you became classmates and he would sneak from his volleyball practices just to bother you as you studied alone in an empty room after class. Then, he would join you during lunch from time to time and would give you a packet of his favorite milk bun sometimes.

You felt special. He’s the only person who made you feel seen. He made you feel like you existed. While others chose to pass you by, he would stop in his tracks to greet you. You could still recall the melodious way he’d call your name. Y/N-chan! You anticipated his casual visits to you everytime. It was like the best part of your day.

There’s always a little smile reserved just for him. That kind of smile he said he loved seeing. You loved Oikawa Tooru, but to think a mere peasant like you would be noticed by a prince, it was all a mistake.

There were rumors about him pursuing some other girl. You thought it was just a rumor until they ended up together. You’re such a fool for believing in fairytales. Gradually, you drew a distance between you. You’re no longer receptive of charms or, at least, you showed you weren’t. Next thing you knew he flew to Buenos Aires and he was all a fairytale.

Years passed and you didn’t know how you end up visiting your campus again. Memories of him flashed back and a bitter smile appeared on your face. You still thanked him for everything, because even just for a year, you felt important. He showed you how valuable you were and how much you needed validation, consequently realizing that the appreciation that would make you whole was not from him, but from yourself.

You would never forget him, though, for showing you what a fairytale looked like even just for a moment in time.

“Y/N-chan!” A familiar voice called out and you found him...Oikawa....He’d grown a lot now. Wrinkles on the side of his eyes and shoulders broader than the last time you recalled. “Have you...forgotten about me?” He asked, sounding sad.

“How can I?” You replied.

“Yeah, I guess. I was pretty memorable back then, huh?” He rubbed the back of his head. “I...I haven’t forgotten you though.”

You gulped. Why do you still feel happy? “Really?” You asked. “You have a lot swarming around you. I’m pretty sure I’m forgettable.”

How could he forget you? How could he forget the one who looked past his recognition and physical appearance? You listened to him tirelessly about volleyball without complaining. You were invested in him when he showed his vulnerabilities. You didn’t run away in times you couldn’t understand him anymore.

You were perfect. In fact, too perfect for him. He knew back then that all he had in his immature brain was to reach for his dreams. He didn’t want to hurt you like how he did others because he’s not free to invest time. Next thing he knew you slowly slipped away from him and you were just his fairytale.

“How could I forget you?” He smiled, bitterly. “My Y/N-chan with the beautiful smile.”

You both chuckled. The ache of the past memories was being purged out. Somehow, it’s such a relief.

He extended his hand and you meekly took it.

“Tooru, please call me Tooru now.” And maybe this time things would work out the way it should’ve been.

IWAIZUMI

You basically grew up together. He was your brother’s best friend and he’d always hang out with him and had sleepovers in your home. They would usually join you as they played. Sometimes, they played as your princes, winning over who could save you from the daunting aliens.

But Hajime was always your prince.

Even when you were little, you dreamt of marrying him. It was all just a childish dream back then, but as you grew older, it was nothing sort of childish anymore. You could never imagine anyone else to be with for life other than him.

However, when your Tooru-nii began living in Argentina, Hajime went back to replace his role over you. To be your brother.

“I don’t like that guy for you, Y/N.” He said, after informing him of the blind date you'd be attending after work.

“Why do you care so much?” Why was he acting this way? Why do you always take care of me? He didn’t have to do that. Stop making me fall in love with you! 

“Because your brother is away and no one here’s gonna look after you!”

“You’re not my brother! So stop acting like one!” You answered back, not looking back as you walked out the door. 

The night fell and your date was still not showing up. Maybe the guy saw you but was not interested. Maybe Hajime was right. You hated it when he’s right, because you knew he was. You knew that there couldn’t be anyone more right for you than him, but it was all so wrong because you’re just a little sister for him.

You felt a hand on your shoulder and immediately looked. Your hope subsided.

“You dropped your handkerchief,” the stranger said.

You knelt and picked the item up. As you stood back up again, you were surprised to see Hajime in front of you.

You felt relief and an undeniable sting inside. You could never get over him. You knew that for sure.

“Let’s go home,” he said, and you earnestly refused no longer capable to bear any hope for him.

“I’ll pass for now. I’ll walk home”

“Y/N, it’s late now-”

“I know. I know,” you dismissively and mockingly said. “It’s not safe and my brother isn’t around so no one’s here to protect me, but you because I’m like a little sister to you right? A little si-”

Your eyes widened as he stopped you from babbling with his lips on yours. Both od his hands cupped your cheeks as he kissed you passionately like it’s something he’d been wanting to do for so long. He parted with the both of you catching your breaths.

“You’re right I’m not your brother, and I never wanted to be.”

#kuroo x reader #bokuto x reader #oikawa x reader #iwaizumi x reader #kuroo fluff #kuroo scenarios #oikawa scenarios #oikawa drabble #bokuto fluff #bokuto scenarios #iwaizumi scenarios #iwaizumi fluff #haikyuu x reader

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soapssuds · 11 days ago

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android!john price x human!reader, or in which you seek a human companion after many years of being alone.

+18, smut, mdni, etc.

You were a fidgety mess as you sat in the waiting area of the office. Your eyes continually glance towards the door as you waited for your name to be called.

The office you were waiting in was like a dating service of sorts. It was for people who had trouble connecting with others. So, to help, one could get assigned or "matched" with a android.

The android could be your friend, a guide, ... a lover. Whatever you need, the android will help. And the android also had a choice too. Some seek companionship as humans do. Others are just fascinated by the whole human emotion concept in general.

Whatever it was, both humans and androids wanted to help each other. To better understand or to just not be alone in the world. And it seemed to help.

You were broken out of your thoughts when your name was called. The doctor beckoning to you to the door as you got up and collected your purse.

"Morning, how are you doing today?"

You smiled at the doctor, "I'm good... though, I am curious about the match?"

It was normal to be nervous. Because sometimes there were people who couldn't even match with an android.

The doctor smiled at you, "luckily we found the perfect partner for you."

You cringed at how she said it. You didn't want the android, whoever they were, to feel like they were being forced into a relationship after all.

She stopped in front of a door, "he's in there."

"Do I just go in?"

"That's all there is to it."

"What if he changes his mind about being with me?"

The doctor chuckled softly at you and ushered you forward, forcing you to open the door with her closing it behind you.

You aren't ready for this, you decided. And just as you were about to back out, someone greeted you.

"Morning love, I was wondering when I would get to meet you face to face."

Putting a on a brave face that consisted of a kind smile and easygoing eyes, you turned towards the voice.

“Morning, uhm… sorry, she didn’t tell me your name.”

“Neither did she tell me yours.”

He stood up from the chair that was situated at the table in the middle of the room, his form was towering. You wondered how he was created in such a way, but quickly stuffed the idea away.

You held out your hand and gave out your name, your eyes holding every anxious thought within them as you hoped you wouldn’t embarrass yourself, “you can call me John.”

He didn’t hesitate to reciprocate your gesture, much to your relief. And when his hand fitted into your own, you were taken aback a little by how warm it was. Your surprise caused him to chuckle which, in turn, caused your cheeks to heat up.

“Now love, I know why I am here, but how about you? What are you looking for the moment you set through those doors?”

He was still holding your hand (most likely to track your heart rate) while his eyes were trained on yours. You wondered silently if he even needed to blink.

“I want a partner… a romantic one. Someone who I can go on dates with, cuddle with in the evenings, and… and be intimate with. That’s what I am looking for.”

You barely managed the confidence to say all of that. Though, you couldn’t deny that you wanted to shrivel up at every single admitted word that fell from your lips. A whole part of you felt so greedy, so selfish. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea-

“Good.”

“G- good?”

He moved his hand to grip at your wrist and gently tugged you forward to where you fell into his chest, “because love, that’s what I was looking for too. It may be hard to believe, but even androids can love.”

You couldn’t stop the giggle that fell from your lips, “and I wouldn’t doubt that at all.”

“Then, would you allow me to take you out on a date so we could properly get to know each other?”

Deciding to just stop worrying for once, you played along. A giddy smile on your lips as you leaned in, “if you would be so kind to escort me, good sir.”

To say the least, you never made it to your little date.

Instead, you had brought him to your home so you could get ready, though, what ended up in you changing your clothes was him politely knocking on your door to help you out which eventually led into him helping you into bed.

A date could always wait for another day, right?

Sure, you were doing things backwards, but with how John had your legs folded up to your chests, you doubted that he cared.

“Ahhh, look at you, love, your cunt is just swallowing me whole.”

He pressed his weight down onto you, his hands gripping your hips harshly as he thrusted into you. His dick plunging and marking your walls, forcing your nerves to remember him. As a steady and hard plap – plap – plap echoed into the room along with your moans and sweet whimpers every time his tip kissed your cervix.

You scratched at his back, your nails digging into his all too real skin as you tried to thrust your hips back into him, desperate for him to go deeper, harder. Removing one of his hands from your hips, he moved his fingers down to your dripping cunt, with precise and careful movements, he started to gently rub at your clit. The way you moaned so loud for him as that thread snapped within you. Your walls clenching hard around him as you came around his hard length. The mere feel of you squeezing his cock had him gushing. His cum that filled you may match the white color of a human man’s but was otherwise just harmless warm fluid created and stored, only to be used in such situations as these.

And to say the least, you were his first partner who let him cum inside, and as he watched you try to catch your breath, he finally released your legs from the mean mating press he had you in. And before he could pull out of you, you had already locked your legs around his waist.

“Again?”

You were breathless, but craved for more. To match with someone like you.. he was truly lucky.

“Only if you’ll ride me this time,” he said flipping you both over so he was now on his back and you were straddling his waist, his cock stiff snuggly inside you.

“With pleasure, and then maybe we can go out on that date later?”

“Whatever you want and more, love. I’m all yours, just as you’re mine.”

#cod smut #call of duty smut #cod #call of duty #john price x reader #cod john price #john price call of duty #john #john price cod #john price #john price smut #john price x you #john price x y/n

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anadiasmount · 9 months ago

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one dare, one kiss - jude bellingham blurb.

quick sum: when a game of truth or dare goes to plan, you’re faced with mixed feelings and your best friend questioning if there was more than what you two had…

wc: 2.2k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist

psa 🗣️: this was small and simple, so i finished it!! hope everyone is okay after all this jude content because i sure am not going to stop talking about it ☺️ hope you enjoy! 🤍

it felt silly. the whole concept of the game. the spinning bottle. drinks laid everywhere. people laughing or messing around. at this age you shouldn’t be playing this but after they begged you, here you were sitting as you distracted yourself from everyone.

it started as a game of truth or dare, the dares consisting of calling an ex, posting on social media, eating or take a shot of something, having to read your messages or search history, all that. or also let the curiosity win the best of people and having people to answer truthfully when they saw the dares would be extreme. such a kid but also adult game once you grew up.

what started as a game of an innocent truth or dare, gradually turned into now a mix of that and spin the bottle. everyone was up for the thrill, knowing this was for pure fun and no feelings involved. while you were up for the idea, the hesitation always held you back, forcing yourself to just go along instead of leaving.

you chatted quietly with your friends, teasing one of them since they had a crush on a boy in the group. although at the start you found the game silly, now you cheered and felt your veins anticipating with nerves, not wanting the bottle to land on you. you knew you weren’t as experienced, and the last thing you wanted was to embarrass yourself, especially if you picked dare.

jude couldn’t stop glancing at you, his eyes never leaving you as you enjoyed the party. was he only one who felt it? the tension? the feeling of desire to take things to the next level? to prove to you, that you didn’t need anyone else besides him? how he agreed this game was silly or couldn’t come to terms with his jealousy if he were to see you kiss someone else who wasn’t him…

jude wasn’t tipsy or drunk, but he felt like it anytime you looked or walked into a room. the ability of you to take his breath away in the smallest way possible, when you smiled, laughed, frowned, spoke, he was madly in love with you as a whole. longing to feel you next to him at all times.

jude bit the inside of his cheek, also feeling his heart race when he saw the empty casa blanco bottle slowly start to slow down. as soon as you saw it was jude’s turn, you felt your stomach turn in a displeased manner, hating the idea if you were to see him kiss any of your friends or a stranger.

you refused to look up, looking down at your nails and biting the inside of your lip as you waiting for the bottle to land on whoever it would. you felt it go slower than usually, testing your limits and patience because it was taking forever.

small gasps and yelps of cheers made you look up, jude staring at you with his lips slight agape. you looked around before looking down at the bottle facing directly at you. the game was childish, but you couldn’t deny the small young school girl in you getting excited over a silly game and getting picked.

“truth or dare jude?” your friend who you’d been teasing the whole night asked him knowing you wouldn’t be able to speak. you watched as he clenched his jaw before answering. “dare,” he spoke lowly but voice full of confidence, you bit your tongue, knowing he would either do the dare or face the consequences.

“for our sakes and yours, we’re daring you to kiss our lovely y/n right here,” she gently shook your shoulders, you send daggers to her, eyes wide as you wanted to shut the idea letting the nerves take over your system. “oh cmon, it’s that or telling everyone what you were saying last night when you were drunk,” she had a playful look on her face, jude shaking his head immediately at the thought.

jude tended to yap a lot when the was alcohol in his system, and last night wasn’t any different except he wouldn’t stop talking about you. how much he loved you, how pretty and kind you were, how you were the only one for him and never judged him, how much he loved your baking or when you wore his hoodies. you and no idea about this, so it raised a question in your head at what they were referring to.

“what are y’all talking about?”

“nothing!” jude was quick to dismiss his cheeks flushing with shyness and embarrassment. you raised a brow, but shook your head, knowing it was probably something boyish. jude somehow got closer to you, now on his knees as his eyes bore with yours. jude could see your pupils dilated, your lips tainted with a colored coat, your nose piercing blinging in the light as he leaned over you.

you cleared your throat, looking around unsure at every on their feet awaiting your next moves. jude leaned his head down, “it’s okay angel… one kiss and we can move onto the next dare,” he said only to you. part of you asked “what if” one kiss wouldn’t be enough for you, another asking if it was a good idea.

all you could do was nod instead of responding, almost being able to hear the squeal coming from your friend besides you. you let out a small breath as jude made the first move and placed his hand around your waist, your thumbs stroked his cheek almost losing your breath. you felt his warm finger tilt your face up to his, his thumb releasing your bottom lip that was stuck between your lips.

your mind raced with thoughts, he was finally going to kiss you, this was gonna happen and no one wanted to stop it. jude closed the last bit of space, his right hand resting just below your pulse as he captured your lips with his. you fell in love with how soft they felt, wanting to cringe at the aftertaste of beer on his lips but instead you found it sweet and pleasant.

this is what you were afraid of, of jude pulling away when you craved and wanted more of him. having waited and dreaming about the moment since forever, or more specifically after slow dancing at a school dance. jude on the other hand had to hold back the groan that wanted to escape his lips, his hand slightly tightened along your pulse point and throat.

it started off small and bare, now turning into a full makeout. his tongue tracing your lips before fully dominating your mouth, his hand now fully wrapped and secured on your waist, as he felt your tongue also trace his in a heated manner. he swallowed a small whimper from you, feeling your hands come to his face and push him away gently after kissing for a while.

you felt hot, every cell on fire, hair on your arms raised despite it all. with one simple kiss he already tortured your head into wanting more than just one. “we said a kiss jude, not a full makeup session… nice to know how you feel though,” your friend winked at you, watching how you sat slowly. your lips feeling sore, and now tainted with him.

it was all you could think about, how he tasted, how we kissed you like a devotion, how he held you, how you knew he didn’t want to pull away at all. the group decided to get more drinks before starting another round. you had gone into the house, making your drink to calm the pit in your stomach. was it possible for the aftermath to be this strong?

from jude:

where are you??

i thought you were with your friends?

to jude:

i’m in the kitchen! in the main house

from jude:

omw, i need to talk to you about something.

you avoided his eyes as he walked into the dark and empty kitchen, only strays from the moonlight decorating the marble tiles floors. your heart raced faster at his footsteps approaching you. he caged you in, hands on either side of you as he forced you to look up at him. “are you okay darling?” he spoke in a hush tone, making you shiver.

“yeah i-i-am good, just getting a drink, you? are you okay?”

“that was something, wasn’t it?” he asked, wanting to talk about what happened. to him it stopped being a game as soon as they dared him to kiss you. to jude, this was your official first kiss and he wanted to pour his heart right here and then. “the game? yeah, yeah it was? they’re probably regret some of the stuff they did tomorrow…”

jude frowned upon hearing you say regret. we’re you regretting kissing him? the kiss that was forever engraved in his head now? how could you possibly say that when you almost begged for more on the spot? “regret? do you regret what happened? our kiss?” jude was afraid of your answer, especially once you began to move around.

a moment of silence passed, shaking your head no. “no i don’t regret it… not one bit which should seem like an issue,” you laughed scratching your temple. “why would it seem like an issue? hmm?” jude cocked his head to the side, looking at you endearingly. he could see you, but you couldn’t pull back as your eyes traced his veins that roamed his skin.

“well we’re best friends? best friends don’t kiss.”

“are we just that though, y/n?” jude tested the waters, his hand sneaking around your waist once again. the familiar heat arose in your body again, “jude we shouldn’t. they’re waiting for us-”

“answer the question y/n. they haven’t even noticed we’re gone and i don’t think they’ll come looking for anytime soon,” jude reassured you. “i don’t know okay? i don’t know jude! this whole situation it’s making me feel and question things!” you try to escape but he impossibly pulls you closer to him. chest to chest.

“shh baby… it’s okay… just me and you here like i said. you’re scared and that’s okay but i promise you once we’re done, it will be worth it,” jude said, making you weak in the knees resisting the urge to kiss his pretty face. “so tell me. are we just friends?”

“no we’re not. because friends don’t just kiss and feel stuff. they don’t practically live together, moving miles away from their home to be with them. friends don’t sleep and cuddle in the same bed at night. friends don’t hold onto hope and love one day they’re going to see how you feel for them…”

“you’re my every thought, when i wake up, go to bed, when i hear the stupid craig david song, your name. it’s impossible at this point because you’re everywhere. i tried to tell myself maybe because we were attached but jude i cant take it anymore, i feel like im going to explode,” you continued.

“me either y/n… believe me… all i could think about how it felt right. like we are right now. how perfect it feels for you or me to be in each others arms. how when we’re together the only thought and feeling i have is pure happiness and security. i want that with you. i want to prove to you it’s me and you. it’s always been like that. y/n and jude…” you giggled at his last reference, tucking your head into his chest.

“just so you know and we’re on the same page, i want to be more than your best friend, i wanna be your boyfriend and maybe your husband one day… i just love you so much y/n, you have no idea,” jude confessed eyebrows slightly twinging as spoke, leaning down to sit you on the counter, still caging you.

“and i hope you know judey,” you smile as you said his nickname jude shyly looking away, “i’m just as madly in love with you… have been since the first time we met. can you believe it? all these years and it took a simple truth or dare to confess our feelings?” you ask in bewilderment, hand stroking his jaw as you pulled him closer to you.

“i really want to kiss you right now,” jude said along your lips, making your tummy flutter with eagerness to feel him pressed on you. “then do it. we’re not playing anymore-” you were quickly shut up, jude bring you close to his ad his hand rested along the nape of your neck. the room was hot, your legs tightly wrapped along his hips as he continued to devour you as a whole.

the night was just starting for the both of you, your friends long gone. just now the two of you relishing the intimacy together in his room. the pants, groans, moans, all causing you to feel dizzy and incoherent. jude not far behind as he was more in love with you. it wasn’t just sex because you felt the need or have to, his thrusts and rolls of hips proving it was love making and gloat over the closeness of your bodies sunk together.

you wouldn’t have had it another way, feeling thankful for the stupid silly game of truth of dare.

#judey thoughts 5️⃣#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham blurb

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mr-butter-face · 4 months ago

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I've already expressed my adoration of both designs of Telltale's Joker. But I just want to break down why they're so appealing to me.

In the game, John Doe goes through huge changes in his life that are expressed in his wardrobe. But the most dramatic change is at the last episode of the series. When he fully transforms into Joker.

Brian Matyas is a concept designer who had worked on both Batman Telltale games. He had posted some of his works on Artstation and Instagram.

[Brain Matyas Instagram Post]

https://www.instagram.com/p/BhucYx5lGCb/?img_index=1

(I suggest you read the entire post till the end.)

[John Doe]

As the game progresses in the story, players will probably take note of how John's wardrobe goes through the most changes compared to everyone else. But the key thing to note that stayed consistent in each episode was his half-fast way of buttoning/tucking-in his shirt and how progressively colorful his outfit was getting.

[Villain Joker]

There's a lot of things to break down about this outfit. First, Brian Matyas stated that Villain Joker was molded primarily by Bruce Wayne. Not Batman. Joker's business tie and fancy suit's purpose was to emulate Bruce's public persona of being a CEO (or, more simply, a person with power). Interestingly enough, Joker's gloves are basically the same kinds that Harley wears in game, as if it were to say now they're equals in their relationship (but obviously they're not). I've heard from others that gloves are symbolic of secrets, which describes how Joker has kept some information hidden from Harley.

The Villain Joker design is probably the most colorful one. His bright green hair, the 80 carpet patterns in his navy suit, the pop of hot pink, and the most disgusting looking dress-shirt I've ever seen. Jack Nicholas' influence isn't lost on me. This outfit screams bold and confident, and most importantly, free.

There are still elements of John Doe. The poorly done tucking and buttoning of Joker's shirt are there. But strangely enough, the strain of hair in front of his head is flipped. John’s was located on the right side while Joker purposely flipped it to the left. And that's not the only thing that's flipped. John's outfit consisted of a purple vest inside and a green/teal shirt outside. Now the pattern is switched with Joker, green shirt inside and dark navy suit outside. Subtle differences like this are led to believe that Joker wants Bruce Wayne to know that he's completely different from John Doe.

The last thing to talk about is his shaved eyebrow. I have no idea why he would do that. People have said it's because he wanted to express how much damage Bruce did to him. Personally, I thought it was like ‘girls making bad hair decisions after a breakup’ thing.

Although his design encompasses both Bruce Wayne and Harley Quinn's impact on his life. It's more leaning into Bruce.

[Vigilante Joker]

There's something about this design that always makes me feel so heartbroken. Not because it's a bad design but because of how much it reminds me how John had faith that if he lived up to Batman's standards that he would be able to maintain their friendship.

Brian Matyas said that he wanted the Vigilante Joker's silhouette to emulate Batman's. It's shown by how his hair and shoulders are curved to a point. Joker's makeup is a lot more gothic and is a lot more menacing than Villain's makeup. It also almost resembles the mask that typically Robin would wear.

Again, there are still elements of John Doe present here. But they are less noticeable than Villain's. Joker's left arm has stitches, (John has been seen wearing a vest that has a different color button then the rest) his shirt's collar isn't properly folded correctly, (John is practically never seen to maintain his dress-shirt collar properly) and he still keeps his vest unlike Villain route. (Although like Villain, there is a color swap with the green shirt and purple vest)

But one thing that jumps out to me is how dull in vibrate color he is compared to Villain Joker's or even John Doe's fourth episode outfit. I had to brighten up my screen in order to identify the smile patterns in his suit. Vigilante design is flashy, but it feels like he's being held back from fully expressing himself.

Joker never really understood Batman's moral code. For players to unlock the Vigilante route, they had to enable John's more violent tendencies. So his outfit only reflects the darker side of Bruce Wayne because that's what Joker believes to be what Batman wants from him.

Huge thanks to hemfbg. They were able to locate both Joker's concept art from Brian Matyas' Instagram.

[Hemfbg Telltale Community Post]

https://community.telltalegames.com/discussion/121009/concept-art-by-brian-matyas

#batman telltale #telltale batman #design analysis #Not really but who cares #sorry for any typos #wrote this at 2am

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twilightkitkat · 23 days ago

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I know we have Laura, but do you ever think of how the other kids at the X-mansion would react to Logan?

Logan was a male role model for them. He might not have been as much as a "father" as Charles but he was family. He'd help teach the children things that the other X-men wouldn't, taking them seriously despite their age. He'd sneak them snacks or "contraband" when the other X-men weren't looking. He'd explain things that the other X-men hid.

Logan was likely the first person to treat them like anyone else. He didn't judge them for their mutations, didn't get angry at or scared of Rogue even when she almost killed him. He didn't hide or sugarcoat the truth for them, he said it bluntly. He wasn't mean, but he was honest. He treated them like they could handle it and this meant they respected him, too.

He was the first person to believe in them and their abilities and teach them that they had their own choice. Like he said to Rogue: he wasn't there to be her father, he was there as her friend. He coexisted as a protector, someone who they could rely on as an authority figure when danger struck, but also as a supporter. He didn't argue with Rogue over what was the "right" thing to do regarding her ability or force her to go back to the X-mansion when she wanted to leave. He told her that he trusted her judgment and just wanted to make sure she was doing it because she wanted to.

Logan knows what it's like to be restricted. To be collared and treated like "less than." He hates feeling caged in and pressured, so he went out of his way to make sure that above all the children knew that they had a choice. They had the ultimate say in their own lives.

The other X-men taught the children to be kind, to be understanding, and to be cautious. Logan taught them to be self-confident, to learn new skills, to set boundaries, and to make choices just for themselves. He's the one who looked at these kids and told them they were allowed to be selfish when everyone else told them otherwise.

And then... Logan was gone. And he was dead. Permanently.

The children kept living, but it was never the same. Of course, they missed him. How couldn't they? He was the first person to try to understand them just for the sake of it, without trying to poke and prod. He was safe. He didn't try to influence them one way or another, he just listened. Nobody else filled those shoes when he left.

And then, by the time most of them were almost grown up, he came back. But it's different. He's different.

He's more jaded than he was before. Closed off in ways that even the most reserved children there weren't. He's tired and older and different from their Logan in ways they can't explain.

But he still looks at them in the eye, not above their head or at their feet. And he nods at them in acknowledgment. And he listens. And he's different but he's so painfully Logan despite it all.

It makes them want to cry. A few of them do.

And Logan... to his credit, takes it in stride. He ruffles their hair and pulls a few into sideways hugs. He grunts as Rogue launches herself into his arms but still holds her. He doesn't shy away.

But Logan isn't a part of the X-mansion, anymore. He visits, occasionally, but he's no longer an X-man. And never plans to be.

The only people he consistently interacts with from the X-mansion are Laura and, to some extent, Colossus and his trainees through Wade. And it almost stings more, that way. To know that he was capable of keeping in touch. That he'd do it for his daughter and Wade but not for them.

Do you ever think how the kids would feel about this? About finally having a version of the person they admired most back only for him to not want to stay? About him choosing to stay with Wade at his shitty, run-down apartment instead of coming back to them.

We, as the audience, can understand. He's traumatized and grieving and staying at the X-mansion would only be rubbing salt in the wounds and reopening cuts that finally are beginning to scab over. He's starting to move on from that chapter in his life, from the guilt and regret both before and after the X-men's deaths.

But the kids don't have that perspective. They were too young, back then, to truly gauge the environment and how Logan might have been kind, in his own way, but was never truly happy. Never felt free or at home. Like a bird coming back to the same, familiar cage because there's nowhere else to go.

And even now, they're too young to really separate their feelings from his choice. In a way, they think it's their fault. That they weren't reason enough for him to stay. That he abandoned them because he didn't want them anymore.

...And that couldn't be further from the truth, obviously, but it's complicated. It's a choice between cutting away some ties even if it hurts or getting tangled in them because all he can remember are their corpses. It's the choice between leaving them behind or being stuck in the past, reliving the same pain and guilt over and over.

And here's the thing: Logan was the one who taught the children to be selfish. Finally, finally, he's allowing himself to take his own advice.

#poolverine #deadclaws #kitkat #deadpool 3 #deadpool and wolverine #logan howlett #wade wilson #deadpool movie #wade x logan #wade/logan #x men #angst #marvel #marvel mcu #marvel cinematic universe #rogue #laura kinney

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hannie-roses · 1 month ago

Text

Love in the line of fire

Pairing: Seungmin x fem¡reader

Synopsis: Y/N never expected her quiet, life to be turned upside down by Seungmin, the most frustrating guy she’s ever met. With his sharp tongue, annoying sarcasm, and habit of always being right, Seungmin seems determined to get under her skin.The two can’t seem to spend a moment in each other’s presence without clashing. But as circumstances force them to work together with a shared project. Y/N begins to see seungmin in a different light. Beneath his biting remarks are moments of surprising vulnerability and kindness that confuse her a weird kindness. And maybe, just maybe, the reason she can’t stop thinking about him isn’t because she hates him — but because her heart is starting to betray her.

Genre: Romance, Enemies-to-Lovers, smut, hardcore degradation¡

Etc: Emotional growth, misunderstandings, vulnerability, and the fine line between love and hate. MINORS DNI

Word count: 15k

Y/N tapped her pen against the edge of her notebook, glancing toward the clock and praying for the lecture to end. Just as the professor launched into another tangent, the seat beside her creaked, and she didn’t have to look to know who it was. Seungmin. Of course. He always had a way of showing up when she least wanted him around. Without a word, he slid into the chair like he owned the place, tossing his bag to the floor with that same careless confidence she found maddening. “Still pretending to not care?” he muttered under his breath, barely glancing her way. Y/N exhaled through her nose, gripping her pen tighter. “Do you ever shut up?” she whispered sharply. Seungmin leaned back in his chair with a lazy shrug. “Not when you’re this fun to mess with.”

Seungmin’s grin didn’t waver, but his eyes darkened, sharp and unyielding. “Wow, someone’s feeling bold today,” he shot back smoothly. “Must be exhausting trying that hard to stay relevant when no one actually cares.” He leaned closer, voice dropping just enough to sting. “If you spent half as much effort on your grades as you do on these weak comebacks, maybe you wouldn’t be clinging to a B-minus like it’s a lifeline.” Y/N’s jaw clenched, but the smug glint in Seungmin’s eyes told her he knew exactly how deep he’d cut and that he was enjoying every second of it.

The collective groan from the class did nothing to calm Y/N’s nerves. She tapped her pen nervously on the desk, praying—please, not Seungmin. But, of course, life wasn’t that kind.

“Y/N and Seungmin,” the professor read aloud.

Her heart sank like a stone.

“No way,” Y/N muttered under her breath, but the professor’s sharp glance silenced any further protest.

“You two will coordinate where and when you meet,” he continued, oblivious to the glares she and Seungmin exchanged. “And given the size of the project, you’ll need a consistent place to work. Off-campus is probably best.”

Seungmin leaned over, grinning like a cat that just cornered a mouse. “Guess I’ll be seeing a lot of you for the next two weeks. Your place works, right?”

“No,” Y/N hissed, her voice low and tense.

“Unless you plan on coming over to my place every day, I suggest you rethink that,” Seungmin said smugly. “I have roommates, remember? Way too loud for serious work.”

“And you think I want you at my house?” Y/N shot back, her pulse pounding.

“Not really,” he replied, flashing a smirk. “But it’s that or fail. Your call.”

She clenched her jaw so tight it hurt. Before she could snap back, the professor interrupted. “Enough. Either work together, or get comfortable with an F.”

As the bell rang, Y/N grabbed her things and stormed out, but Seungmin followed right on her heels. “This’ll be fun,” he said, far too cheerful for her liking.

“Fun?” she spat. “The only fun part will be when these two weeks are over.”

“Aw, come on. It’s not that bad,” he teased. “Two weeks, your place, no distractions. What could go wrong?”

“Everything,” Y/N muttered, marching ahead—but Seungmin’s voice trailed after her, smug and infuriating as ever.

“Careful, Y/N. I might grow on you.”

She whipped around, glaring at him. “In your dreams, Seungmin.”

“Plenty of room for that in two weeks,” he said with a wink, leaving her fuming as he strolled off, whistling like this was all a game.

Y/N stared after him, heart pounding with frustration—and something else she wasn’t ready to name. Two weeks of Seungmin in her house? This was going to be a nightmare.

That evening, Y/N sat on her couch, scrolling mindlessly through her phone, hoping to find some miracle excuse to cancel this nightmare of a project. But just as she began to delude herself into thinking she could fake being sick for two weeks, her phone buzzed. A new message. From him.

Seungmin: Be there at 7. Try not to cry about it.

Her fingers twitched over the keyboard. She wanted to tell him to go to hell—or, better yet, to find a different partner—but the professor’s warning echoed in her mind: Failing. Forty percent. No excuses. With a growl of frustration, she threw her phone down and glared at the ceiling.

Her front door rang at exactly 7:00. Of course. Punctual and annoying, as always. She stomped to the door, wrenching it open to find Seungmin leaning against the frame, duffel bag slung over one shoulder and a grin plastered on his stupidly perfect face.

“You’re right on time,” Y/N muttered, arms crossed.

“Impressed?” he asked, stepping inside like he owned the place. “I aim to please.”

“No, you aim to annoy,” she shot back, closing the door a little harder than necessary.

“Close enough,” he said, kicking off his shoes and scanning her living room. “Cozy. I like it. So, where’s the workspace?”

“In the dining room,” she muttered, leading him to the table she had already set up with books, notebooks, and a few pens. “And keep your stuff over there. Don’t touch anything else.”

Seungmin dropped his duffel onto the floor with an exaggerated sigh. “Bossy, bossy. We’re going to have so much fun.”

“Yeah, can’t wait,” Y/N said flatly, flipping open the book they had to analyze. “Let’s get this over with.”

He pulled out a chair and sat across from her, leaning back with that smug expression she already hated. “So, what’s the plan, partner? Or are you just winging this?”

“We split it in half. I handle character analysis, you do themes,” she said without looking up.

“Yawn,” Seungmin responded, drumming his fingers on the table. “How about we both do everything? It’ll be easier if we bounce ideas off each other.”

“That’s your definition of ‘easier?’” she scoffed.

“Yup. I get to show off how much smarter I am. You get to keep up if you can.”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed. “I swear, Seungmin, if you make one more cocky comment—”

He leaned forward, cutting her off with that same infuriating grin. “Relax, Y/N. You’ll survive. Probably.”

“Oh my God, I already regret this,” she groaned, dragging a hand down her face.

Seungmin pulled the book toward him, skimming the first page. “What are we working on first, genius?”

Y/N shot him a glare but decided to pick her battles. “Fine. We’ll start with the protagonist’s flaws.”

“Perfect,” he said, smirking as he tapped the book. “Flaws are my specialty.”

She gave him a deadpan look. “Yeah. That, I believe.”

For the next hour, they bickered over every minor detail—whether the protagonist’s decision was reckless or necessary, whether the author’s message was subtle or obvious. Every suggestion Y/N made, Seungmin found a way to challenge. Every time she pushed back, his smug grin only grew.

“You like being difficult, don’t you?” Y/N snapped after another argument about a minor character’s importance.

“Not my fault you’re wrong,” Seungmin replied, effortlessly flipping the page.

“You are unbearable,” she muttered, scribbling in her notebook with enough force to rip through the paper.

“And yet,” Seungmin said, not missing a beat, “here we are. Stuck together. For two whole weeks.”

Y/N glared at him, determined to ignore the little flicker of heat that surged in her chest. She hated him. Absolutely hated him.

So why was she starting to think that two weeks might not be long enough?

Seungmins POV:

Seungmin leaned back in his chair, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, his sharp gaze locked on Y/N. She was hunched over her notebook, scribbling furiously like the fate of the world depended on it. And honestly? Watching her spiral into frustration was the most entertaining part of his day.

He twirled his pen between his fingers, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce. There was something almost addictive about pushing Y/N—like winding up a spring just to see how far it would snap. Most people couldn’t keep up with him, but she gave as good as she got. And that? That was rare.

“So,” he said slowly, voice laced with mock interest, “are we really going to sit here and act like your little analysis makes any sense?”

Her pen stopped mid-sentence. She lifted her head, fixing him with that deadly, narrowed stare that said she was two seconds away from throwing the book at his face.

“You’re joking,” she said flatly, but the dangerous edge in her voice said otherwise.

He tilted his head, flashing her a grin that had irritated more people than he could count. “Do I look like I’m joking?”

Y/N leaned back, arms crossed tightly over her chest, radiating annoyance. “If being insufferable were a career, you’d be CEO.”

He laughed, low and smug, as if her insult was the funniest thing he’d heard all day. “If that’s the best you’ve got, these two weeks are going to drag.”

“They already are,” she shot back, the venom in her voice making his grin widen.

God, she made this too easy. The way she bristled at every word, as if her whole mission in life was to prove him wrong—it was almost impressive. Almost.

“Look,” he said, leaning forward just enough to make her shift uncomfortably. “We can sit here and argue all night if you want, but at the end of the day? I’m still going to be right. Might as well save yourself the trouble.”

Her jaw clenched so hard he could practically hear her grinding her teeth. “The only thing worse than working with you is that you actually believe you’re always right.”

“Not always,” he said with a cocky shrug. “Just when it matters.”

She let out a frustrated groan, muttering something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like an insult. He didn’t care—if anything, it only made his grin grow. He drummed his pen against the table, letting the rhythmic tap fill the tense silence. Two weeks. She’s stuck with me.

And the way she glared at him, as if every second spent in his presence was a personal offense? Yeah, this was going to be the most entertaining project of his life.

“Let’s just finish this,” she grumbled, flipping the book open with a huff.

“Oh no,” Seungmin said, settling into his chair with a lazy smirk. “This? We’re just getting started.”

Seungmin leaned his elbows on the table, chin resting on his hand, watching Y/N pretend he didn’t exist. Her pen scratched furiously across the page, her jaw tight with irritation. She was probably imagining setting him on fire. If looks could kill, he’d already be six feet under.

The thought made him grin.

This wasn’t just any school project—this was two weeks of uninterrupted, front-row tickets to every scowl, eye roll, and exasperated sigh she had in her arsenal. And for some reason, knowing he could irritate her with so little effort made the whole ordeal worth it.

But the silence between them was too tempting, too perfect to leave untouched. He tapped his pen on the edge of her notebook, just enough to make her pause. “So,” he said, voice light and teasing, “how long are you going to pretend that ignoring me will make me disappear?”

Y/N’s head snapped up, her eyes blazing with a mix of hatred and exhaustion. “If I concentrate hard enough, maybe the universe will do me a favor.”

He smirked, leaning closer until their faces were inches apart. “Hate to break it to you, but I’m not going anywhere. You, me, this project? We’re in it for the long haul.”

Seungmin could already feel the headache forming behind his eyes, and it had Y/N’s name written all over it. She sat across from him, muttering under her breath as she flipped through pages, acting like she could outwork him through sheer willpower. He watched her, amused, as she bit the inside of her cheek—her tell whenever she was pissed but trying to keep it together.

God, she’s so predictable. Every time she tried to ignore him, it was like dangling a challenge in front of him. And if there was one thing Seungmin didn’t do, it was let a challenge go unanswered. Two weeks. He had two whole weeks to get under her skin, and he’d be damned if he didn’t make the most of it.

She thinks she can just steamroll me? Cute.

He tapped his fingers rhythmically on the edge of the table, each little sound like a ticking bomb waiting to go off. Y/N’s eyes flicked toward his hand, then away, as if acknowledging him would only make it worse.

“Come on,” he thought, watching her squirm. Take the bait, Y/N. You know you want to.

And right on cue, she slammed her pen down with just enough force to make it bounce. “Can you not?” she snapped, her voice strained with that particular kind of irritation reserved just for him.

He grinned, enjoying the way her frustration simmered right beneath the surface, begging to spill over. She makes this too easy.

“Sorry,” he said, not sorry at all. “Didn’t know focus was such a fragile thing for you.”

Y/N shot him a glare so sharp it could’ve sliced through steel. And just like that, there it was—that fire he knew all too well. The one that made this project more than just an annoying grade—it made it entertainment.

Admit it, Y/N. You love this game as much as I do.

“Look,” she said, her voice tight and clipped, “the sooner we finish this, the sooner we don’t have yo be around eachother.”

Seungmin leaned back in his chair, pretending to think it over. “Tempting,” he said lazily, “but where’s the fun in that?”

She let out a breath, long and heavy, like she was two seconds away from strangling him. And for a split second, he wondered what it would feel like to really push her past her limit—what it would take to see her lose that tightly controlled composure completely.

Careful, Seungmin. Too far, and she’ll actually murder you.

Still, the idea made him smirk. “Two weeks,” he reminded her, voice low and smooth. “Better get comfortable. We’re just getting started.”

Y/N let out a frustrated groan, rubbing her temples like dealing with him was a full-time job. And Seungmin? He was loving every second of it.

This is going to be fun.

Day 5

Y/n POV:

Y/N sat on the edge of her bed, chewing the inside of her cheek as Seungmin lounged across the floor of her room, flipping through his notes like he owned the place. She hated how comfortable he looked, leaning back against her bed frame, one leg stretched out, the other bent just enough to tap his stupid pen against his knee. Every movement he made was irritatingly relaxed, as if this project wasn’t suffocating her sanity more with each passing day.

It had been five days. Five long days of Seungmin’s sarcasm, smug smirks, and infuriating comments. Five days of biting her tongue to keep from losing it completely. She should’ve been ready to scream by now. Should’ve been counting down the hours until they could submit the project and be done with each other. And yet…

Her heart did this weird little flutter every time he smirked at her. And that was new.

She clutched her notebook a little tighter, glaring at it as if the page was responsible for the uncomfortable sensation growing in her chest. It made no sense. None. She hated him—or at least, she thought she did. So why, in the middle of an otherwise perfectly normal afternoon, did her heart stutter when he absentmindedly ran a hand through his hair? Why did the sound of him quietly clearing his throat make her stomach twist?

This was bad. Really bad.

“You know,” Seungmin said, breaking the silence without even glancing at her, “if you keep frowning like that, your face might get stuck.”

Her head snapped up, ready to fire back, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, all she could focus on was the way his lips curved—just slightly, like he knew exactly how close she was to throwing something at him.

But instead of the familiar anger bubbling to the surface, something else stirred inside her. Something softer. Something that made her feel unsteady, like the floor wasn’t quite where it should be.

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to look away, pretending to scribble down nonsense in her notebook. What the hell is wrong with me? This was Seungmin. Annoying, arrogant, thinks-he-knows-everything Seungmin. The same guy who had spent the last five days driving her to the edge of her patience. There was no logical reason for her chest to feel tight just because he was sitting a few feet away from her.

“Y/N?” His voice was smooth, with just the right amount of smugness to set her on edge. She hated how much she noticed that now. “You zoning out on me? Wow. Guess I’m more interesting than I thought.”

She clenched her jaw, willing the heat rising to her cheeks to go away. “In your dreams, Seungmin.”

He chuckled, and that stupid sound made her stomach flip. Oh my God. Get it together.

Forcing herself to stay composed, she scrawled something—anything—on the paper in front of her, just to avoid looking at him. But it didn’t help. She could still feel him there, his presence filling the room like he belonged.

And the worst part? A small, traitorous part of her didn’t mind it.

Day 5 – Later That Night

By the time the sun set, the air between them felt heavier. Y/N could still hear Seungmin’s voice echoing in her head, every sarcastic comment, every smug laugh lingering far longer than it should. She hated that he lived rent-free in her mind, yet here she was, sitting across from him in her own room, pretending she wasn’t hyper-aware of every time he breathed.

Seungmin stretched his legs out further, toes brushing her ankle beneath the table, and she jolted at the unexpected contact. It wasn’t like he kicked her—just a graze. Nothing. But it sent sparks racing up her leg. What the hell was that? She tucked her feet beneath her chair, desperate to create some distance between them, but the damage was already done.

No. Nope. Don’t do this, Y/N. You do not catch feelings for Seungmin.

He glanced up from his laptop, one eyebrow raised. “You okay over there? Or is this the part where you malfunction?”

She shot him a withering look, trying to smother the warmth rising to her cheeks. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

But her voice lacked its usual bite, and Seungmin noticed. Of course, he noticed. That smug grin crept back onto his face, slow and deliberate, like he knew something she didn’t. And for the first time, she felt completely out of her depth.

“Relax,” he said, his voice low, almost playful. “I’m not that irresistible, you know.”

Her heart stuttered. The teasing in his voice was meant to annoy her—it was supposed to drive her crazy. But now, all it did was send her pulse racing. And the worst part? He could probably hear it.

She rolled her eyes, trying to hide the crack forming in her composure. “God, you’re insufferable.”

“And yet,” he murmured, leaning back against her bedframe, “here we are.”

There was something dangerous about the way he looked at her then—like he wasn’t just trying to get under her skin anymore. No, this felt different. Like he was testing the waters, waiting to see what would happen if he pushed just a little further.

Y/N clenched her jaw, forcing herself to look anywhere but at him. But the silence between them had shifted. It wasn’t the usual battle of snarky comments and irritation—it felt thicker, heavier. Like tension wound too tight, ready to snap at the slightest provocation.

And God help her, part of her wanted it to snap.

Seungmin cleared his throat, pulling her from her spiraling thoughts. “We’re getting nowhere with this,” he said, closing his laptop with a soft click. “Let’s take a break.”

She blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “What? Now?”

“Yeah. I’m hungry.” He stood, stretching his arms above his head, the hem of his shirt riding up just enough to reveal a sliver of skin.

Her gaze flickered—just for a second—and she cursed herself internally for even noticing. Get it together, Y/N.

“Come on,” he said, smirking as if he caught her looking. “You’ve gotta eat, too. Or is brooding your new diet plan?”

“I don’t brood,” she muttered, standing reluctantly.

“Sure you don’t.” He grabbed his jacket, slinging it over one shoulder. “You coming, or are you just gonna sit here and think about me all night?”

Her jaw dropped, and for a moment, all she could do was stare at him, heat flooding her face.

“Oh my God,” she whispered. “You’re unbelievable.”

He shot her a wink—an actual wink—and headed for the door.

And against every ounce of logic and reason she had left, Y/N found herself following him.

What am I doing?

Later That Night – Y/N’s Thoughts

What the hell is wrong with me?

Y/N trailed a few steps behind Seungmin as they made their way down the dimly lit street. The cool night air kissed her skin, but it did nothing to chill the chaos swirling in her head. She was supposed to hate him—despise him with every fiber of her being. Yet here she was, walking next to the human equivalent of a headache, heart thumping against her ribs like it had no idea they were supposed to be enemies.

He’s a nightmare. A smug, know-it-all pain in the ass. I hate him. I do. I’ve always hated him. So why the hell do I keep looking at his stupid smile like it’s some kind of rare eclipse?

She risked a glance at him. He was walking easily beside her, hands stuffed into his pockets, his usual cocky energy radiating off him like he didn’t have a care in the world. The streetlights caught the angles of his jaw, and for one fleeting second, she wondered how someone so irritating could look so—

Nope. Nope. Abort mission. I did not just think that.

Her eyes shot forward again, face heating with the kind of embarrassment that felt physical. God, if there’s a hell, I deserve front-row seats for this.

Why did her heart do that annoying little flutter every time he so much as breathed in her direction? Why couldn’t she stop wondering what his hair would feel like if she ran her hands through it? And why—why—did it feel weirdly comfortable being next to him? Like maybe, if she wasn’t so busy hating him, she could—

No. No, no, no. This is Seungmin. Arrogant, rude, irritating Seungmin. You are not allowed to feel anything for him. You’re supposed to roll your eyes, not… not want to kiss him.

That thought hit her like a slap, and she nearly stumbled over her own feet. What the hell? No. No way. I did not just think that.

But now that the thought was there, it was impossible to unthink it. The idea of kissing him hovered at the edges of her mind, taunting her. And the worst part? Some small, deeply buried part of her didn’t hate it.

This can’t be happening. I’m losing it. It’s only been five days, and I’m already losing my damn mind.

Seungmin glanced back at her, his lips quirking up in a grin that made her stomach flip. “You good back there, or do I need to carry you?”

She shot him a glare that was half-hearted at best. There it is. That smug, cocky look that makes me want to throw him into traffic. So why does it also make my chest feel weird?

“Shut up,” she muttered, shoving her hands deeper into her jacket pockets.

He chuckled softly—just enough to make her pulse stutter—and turned back around, still leading the way.

Two weeks of this. Two whole weeks of being alone with him, stuck together in my room, breathing the same air. How am I supposed to survive that when five days already feel like this?

She bit the inside of her cheek, desperate to stop the thoughts before they spiraled further. But it was too late. They were there now, sitting in her mind like uninvited guests, whispering things she didn’t want to admit.

What if I don’t hate him as much as I thought?

And the scariest part? She wasn’t sure if she wanted the feelings to stop.

The quiet hum of the city filled the air around them, but all Y/N could focus on was the warmth radiating off Seungmin as they walked side by side. He’s infuriating, she thought, clenching her fists inside her pockets to keep from reaching out and shoving him—or worse, touching him. And yet, there’s something about him that’s so… captivating.

She could feel the weight of their proximity. With every step, the space between them felt charged, like the air before a storm. Each time he laughed at something that wasn’t even funny, her heart responded in ways that left her unsettled. Why was her body betraying her? It made no sense! I should be focused on the project. I should be annoyed! But instead, I’m caught up in this stupid, stupid distraction.

As they reached a small café, Y/N hesitated at the entrance, suddenly questioning everything. Why am I even here? Seungmin had a way of breaking down her defenses, and it terrified her.

“Are you coming or what?” he called over his shoulder, his voice laced with amusement.

Rolling her eyes, she followed him inside, trying to ignore the way her pulse quickened at the sight of him ordering. He moved with an ease that made it seem like he belonged anywhere he went, and part of her resented how much she admired that. Why can’t I be as effortlessly cool?

“Your usual?” he asked, turning to face her, that mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Yeah. I think I can manage to order for myself, thanks,” she shot back, crossing her arms defensively.

He shrugged, a playful smirk stretching across his lips. “Just checking. Wouldn’t want you to starve, especially since you seem to be so preoccupied with… whatever is going on in that head of yours.”

Ugh. Why does he have to be so infuriatingly perceptive?

The barista called their names, and they took their drinks to a small table outside, the cool breeze playing with her hair as she sat down. Seungmin leaned back, eyes scanning the street as if he owned it. He’s so casual, so sure of himself. What is it about him?

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked suddenly, snapping her from her reverie.

She was taken aback, heat creeping into her cheeks. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t. I’m just bored.” His nonchalance was maddening. “And besides, it’s either that or watch you brood.”

Brood? She was not brooding! But she couldn’t deny the truth in his words. She was on the verge of an emotional meltdown, and he was somehow the cause. How was that even fair?

“Fine,” she said, voice tight. “I was just wondering why you’re so annoyingly confident all the time.”

His eyebrows shot up, surprise flickering across his face before he laughed. “Annoyingly confident? I like that. But seriously, why wouldn’t I be? Life’s too short to spend it pretending you don’t matter.”

His words hung in the air, and Y/N found herself searching his eyes, looking for any sign of insincerity. But there was none. He looked genuine—almost earnest. It made her heart race again, this time with something she didn’t want to name.

“I just don’t get it,” she muttered, leaning forward. “How can you just… be so open? You act like everything’s a joke.”

“Because it is,” he said simply, a grin playing on his lips. “What’s the point of taking life too seriously? All it does is stress you out.”

So easy for you to say, she thought bitterly, but she couldn’t help but be intrigued. Maybe there was something to his carefree attitude. It was like he found joy in the chaos, while she was stuck in her own head, overthinking every little detail.

“Okay, Mr. Wise Guy,” she said, a challenge lacing her voice. “What do you do when things get tough?”

Seungmin’s expression shifted, a brief flash of something deeper crossing his face. “You adapt. You find a way to make it work. Or you move on. It’s that simple.”

For a moment, Y/N felt her defenses wavering. There was something in his tone, a raw honesty that made her want to lean in closer. But before she could respond, he shifted topics, breaking the tension. “But enough about my wisdom—I need to know what’s going on in that frowning little head of yours.”

“Nothing,” she insisted, her heart racing as she tried to deflect. “I’m just thinking about the project.”

“Sure you are,” he said, teasingly rolling his eyes. “You know, I can see through your lies.”

She let out an exasperated sigh, frustration mixing with an unexpected thrill. “You really think you know me that well?”

“I’m getting there,” he replied, leaning back in his chair, that smug grin returning. “Just give it time.”

Why does that make my heart race?

With every teasing remark and playful jab, Y/N found herself drawn deeper into the tangled web of their strange relationship. This back-and-forth was exhausting, but exhilarating. She wanted to fight it. She wanted to shove it down, to pretend it didn’t exist. But the longer they spent together, the harder it became to ignore the spark that crackled between them.

What if he was right? What if life really was too short to overthink everything?

And just like that, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the stars began to twinkle overhead, Y/N realized she had a choice to make: keep pushing him away or lean into the storm brewing between them.

Day 7 – Seungmin’s POV

Seven days in and I was beginning to wonder if hell had frozen over. It was day seven of the project, and Y/N still acted like she wanted to rip my head off, but I could sense a shift in the atmosphere. Maybe it was the way her eyes lingered on me a fraction too long, or how her lips curved into an involuntary smile whenever I cracked one of my usual jokes. It was infuriating, really. The more I tried to get under her skin, the more she seemed to react in ways that made my heart race—and not just because she was a walking tornado of annoyance.

Today was supposed to be just another tedious afternoon spent holed up in her room, but there was something different in the air. She paced back and forth, hair cascading over her shoulders like a waterfall, the tension in her body nearly palpable. Every step she took seemed to echo in my mind, pulling my focus back to her time and again.

I was supposed to be working on our project, but all I could think about was how those jeans hugged her hips just right. How her eyes sparkled with fire whenever I teased her, and how her laughter, despite all my efforts to annoy her, could cut through the tension like a hot knife through butter. It was a disaster waiting to happen, and I was the one holding the match.

“Seungmin, can you focus for once?” she snapped, breaking through my thoughts.

I looked up, feigning innocence. “I am focused. Just contemplating the complexities of our groundbreaking project.”

She rolled her eyes, arms crossed over her chest. “Right. Because this is groundbreaking.”

And there it was—that irritation that ignited something primal in me. The way her eyebrows knitted together, the tilt of her head. It was infuriating how even when she was pissed, I found her captivating. I hated that I was starting to notice her like this. I hated that I wanted to tease her, push her buttons, and yet I felt drawn in, as if she were a magnet and I was the metal.

“Are you going to stand there all day, or are we going to get something done?” She snapped, the sharpness in her voice only amplifying the warmth pooling in my gut.

“Patience is a virtue, you know,” I shot back, leaning back in my chair, trying to keep my posture relaxed. But the truth was, I felt anything but relaxed. Her frustration was electric, and each moment she spent within my orbit pulled me in deeper.

But it wasn’t just the banter that got to me. No, it was the way my body betrayed me in her presence. The moment she turned to walk back to her desk, I caught a glimpse of the curve of her waist and—damn it—my thoughts spiraled into inappropriate territory. It was like flipping a switch. All of a sudden, my body responded without my permission, a heat rising that I couldn’t ignore.

What the hell?

“Seungmin?”

Her voice pulled me back to reality. I glanced up, trying to hide the evidence of my body’s traitorous response. Act normal. Act cool. “What?” I snapped, perhaps a bit too harshly, but I needed to redirect this energy before it became too obvious.

“I asked if you could stop daydreaming for five minutes and help me with this section,” she said, exasperation lacing her tone.

“Yeah, sure. Just give me a sec.” I leaned forward, attempting to distract myself with the notes sprawled on the table, but my mind was still clouded with thoughts of her. Just focus on the project, Seungmin. You can’t afford to think about her like that.

As she leaned over the table to highlight a point, my breath hitched. The way she focused, the determination in her eyes—it made my heart race for all the wrong reasons. I tried to swallow, but it felt like there was a knot lodged in my throat. I was painfully aware of how close she was, the faint scent of her shampoo weaving around me, intoxicating and maddening all at once.

“Did you hear a word I said?” she asked, her voice pulling me back to reality once more.

“Uh, yeah,” I said, feigning confidence. “You were talking about… um… that thing. The thing we need to figure out.”

She narrowed her eyes at me, a flicker of disbelief crossing her face. “Right. Because that totally helps.”

I couldn’t help but smirk. “Hey, I’m just here for the moral support.”

“Your moral support is useless,” she shot back, the heat in her gaze making it harder to ignore the tension simmering beneath the surface.

And just like that, I felt it again. The pull, the longing, and the undeniable physical reaction that threatened to break through my facade. Damn it. I shifted in my seat, desperately trying to find a distraction.

“Maybe you should get your head out of the clouds,” she said, her voice tinged with that familiar frustration. But even as she scolded me, there was something else there—a hint of something softer that I couldn’t quite place.

What is this?

I leaned back, arms crossed, trying to maintain a façade of indifference. “I’m just saying, I’m here for you. Someone has to keep you grounded.”

“Grounded? Please,” she scoffed, but her eyes flickered with something that looked suspiciously like amusement. “You’re just as much of a distraction.”

A cocky grin crept onto my face. “I prefer to think of myself as motivational.”

We stared at each other, the banter charged with a tension that buzzed between us, electric and full of unspoken words. I could feel the walls we’d built crumbling, piece by piece, and it terrified me. What was happening?

I cleared my throat, forcing my gaze to the notes sprawled on the table. “Let’s just finish this before I—”

“Before you what? Lose your mind?” she teased, and I caught a glimpse of that fierce spark I’d grown to love.

“Before I have to deal with whatever this is,” I muttered, motioning vaguely between us.

Y/N’s expression shifted, a mixture of surprise and curiosity flashing across her features. “What do you mean?”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. Because if I did, I’d have to admit that there was something building between us that felt dangerously close to something more than just a rivalry. And that was a risk I wasn’t ready to take.

“Just—let’s focus on the project,” I said, avoiding her gaze.

But the tension remained, lingering in the air, and I knew that as much as I tried to bury it, the line between hate and something deeper was getting blurrier with every moment spent together. And the worst part? I wasn’t sure I wanted to keep it buried any longer.

Day 12 – Y/N's House

It had started off normal enough. They had found a rhythm by now-working through the project with sharp jabs, teasing remarks, and just enough cooperation to keep things civil. For once, it seemed like they might get through the day without an argument. Y/N sat cross- legged on her bed, flipping through their notes, while Seungmin leaned against her desk, scrolling on his laptop.

"Look, if we just divide this section evenly, we'll be done faster," Y/N said, not even looking up.

Seungmin gave a small snort, the corner of his mouth tugging into that familiar smirk. "You mean I do the real work while you fill in the blanks?"

She shot him a glare. "I'm contributing just as much as you."

"Oh, is that what we're calling it?" he teased, closing his laptop with a soft click. "Because it looks to me like you're slacking.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I swear, you’re impossible.”

He chuckled under his breath and took a step closer, that cocky gleam in his eyes. It wasn’t new—this back-and-forth had become their routine. But today, something about the air between them felt heavier, crackling with unspoken tension.

She stood to put the notes back on her desk, brushing past him without a second thought. That was her first mistake.

The second was not expecting the sudden shift.

Before she could react, Seungmin’s hand shot out, grabbing her wrist. In one fluid motion, he pinned her against the wall, his body pressing into hers, close enough that she could feel the rise and fall of his chest.

The breath rushed out of her lungs as her back hit the cool surface. “What the hell, Seungmin?” she gasped, but her voice was shaky—betraying the strange rush of excitement blooming in her chest.

His gaze locked onto hers, darker than usual, and she could feel the heat radiating off him. “I’ve had just about enough of you driving me crazy,” he muttered, voice low and rough, as if the words had been building inside him for days.

Her heart pounded against her ribcage, and suddenly, the small space between them felt too hot, too overwhelming. “You’re insane,” she whispered, but there was no bite to her words.

“Maybe.” His eyes flicked down to her lips, and for a moment, the world around them disappeared. It was just the two of them—this impossible tension pulling them closer, tighter.

She could feel his breath on her skin, the subtle graze of his fingers still wrapped around her wrist, and every nerve in her body screamed at her to push him away. But instead, she stayed frozen, trapped between the cold wall and the burning weight of him.

“Say you hate me,” he whispered, the words a challenge, a dare.

Y/N’s pulse thrummed wildly, her breath coming out shallow. “I—”

But the words never made it out.

Seungmin leaned in, closing the distance, his mouth brushing against hers—not quite a kiss, more like a warning. Her heart stuttered, and for a split second, she thought she might break apart from the sheer force of it.

And then, without thinking, she kissed him.

It was messy, urgent, like they were both trying to make sense of something they didn’t understand. His hand slid from her wrist to her waist, fingers digging into her skin as if anchoring himself. She grabbed at his shirt, pulling him closer, needing more.

The kiss deepened, and everything else faded—every argument, every insult, every bitter word exchanged over the past few weeks. None of it mattered now. The only thing that mattered was the way he tasted—like something dangerous and addicting all at once.

He pressed her harder against the wall, a low growl escaping his throat as he tilted her head back, giving himself better access. His lips trailed along her jaw, down to the soft curve of her neck, and Y/N bit her lip to stifle the sound threatening to escape her.

“Seungmin…” Her voice was barely a whisper, and it sent a shiver down his spine.

“Say you hate me,” he murmured against her skin, the words more desperate this time.

“I hate you,” she breathed, but the way she clung to him told a different story entirely.

Seungmin’s laugh was low and breathless. “Liar.”

And then he kissed her again—harder, deeper, as if this was something they both knew they couldn’t take back.

Day 12 – Y/N’s House (Continued)

Y/N’s mind spun, and every rational thought slipped away as Seungmin kissed her like he’d been waiting years to do it. His hands gripped her waist tightly, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. She gasped against his mouth, her fingers tangled in his hair, and every time she tried to steady herself, his touch undid her all over again.

His lips dragged along her jaw, hot and relentless, down to the hollow of her throat. Her heart raced, each touch sending sparks through her, making it harder to tell where frustration ended and desire began. The words were already on the tip of her tongue—words that had been their lifeline, their defense against whatever this feeling was.

“I hate you,” she whispered, breathless, as his mouth brushed her collarbone.

Seungmin gave a low chuckle, the sound vibrating against her skin. “You’re really going to keep that up?” he murmured, his voice thick with amusement and something darker. His teeth grazed her neck, and she shivered.

“Yes,” she gasped, even as her hands slid beneath the hem of his shirt, fingertips exploring the warm skin beneath. “I hate you.”

“Liar,” he whispered, lips ghosting over hers again, teasingly light.

She hated how much she needed more—how her body leaned into him, desperate for the heat of his kiss, the weight of him pressing her against the wall. Every kiss, every touch felt like both a challenge and a surrender, and it was driving her insane.

He shifted, pinning her wrists above her head, and the action sent a dangerous thrill rushing through her. “You’re still so stubborn,” he said softly, his lips barely brushing her ear. “Even now, when you’re the one pulling me closer.”

Y/N’s breath hitched. She could feel every inch of him against her—his body firm and hot, his breath ragged as he struggled to maintain control. But it was slipping, fast.

She kissed him again, rough and desperate, biting his bottom lip as if to punish him for being right. He groaned into her mouth, and the sound shot through her, making her knees weak.

“I hate you,” she whispered again between kisses, the words shaky, betraying how untrue they were.

“Sure you do,” Seungmin murmured, and there was a cocky grin in his voice now. His grip tightened slightly, his hips pressing into hers, and the friction made her gasp. “Say it all you want, Y/N. But we both know you don’t mean it.”

His words made her feel unsteady, vulnerable, and that only made her kiss him harder. Seungmin laughed into her mouth, low and wicked, clearly enjoying her frustration as much as the way her body responded to him.

“You can keep lying,” he whispered against her lips, “but I’m going to make you admit the truth eventually.”

Y/N’s breath came in short, shallow bursts. This was dangerous—whatever this was between them, it felt like playing with fire. But she didn’t want to stop. Not now. Not when everything about this felt so maddeningly, addictively right.

And Seungmin knew it too.

Seungmin’s breath was ragged, his self-control slipping by the second. The way Y/N kissed him—furious and needy—only made it worse. She wasn’t holding back, and neither was he. Every time she bit his lip or dragged her nails along his skin, it sent a jolt of heat straight through him.

This was bad. Very bad.

His hands slid down to her hips, gripping hard, as if holding on to her would somehow anchor him. But the moment her body shifted against his, brushing against him in just the right way, a curse slipped from his lips.

He tried to pull back—just an inch, just enough to breathe—but Y/N followed, pressing closer, as if daring him to lose control. Her scent, the soft warmth of her skin, the way she looked up at him with that defiant glint in her eye—it was all too much.

Focus. Don’t lose it. Don’t let her see.

But it was already happening. His body betrayed him, heat pooling low in his stomach, his pulse hammering as he became painfully aware of how close they were. And Y/N felt it too.

She stilled, her breath hitching, and her gaze flicked downward, the slightest hint of realization dawning in her eyes.

Seungmin clenched his jaw, a mix of frustration and desire tightening in his chest. He could already feel the smug comment forming on her tongue.

But she surprised him.

“I hate you,” she whispered, her lips brushing his, soft but deliberate.

It was infuriating how much those words—so empty, so obviously false—made him want her more. He leaned in, his voice low and rough. “Keep saying it,” he dared, his fingers digging into her hips. “See what happens.”

Her eyes sparkled with mischief, a wicked little smile playing on her lips. “I hate you,” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper, teasing, taunting.

Seungmin groaned, his forehead resting against hers as he fought to keep himself in check. The tension between them was unbearable, and every second he spent holding back only made him want to give in that much more.

She shifted again—just slightly, but enough to send another wave of heat through him—and he let out a shaky breath. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he muttered, almost to himself.

Y/N’s grin grew, sensing his struggle. “Good,” she whispered.

His hands gripped her tighter, his breath hot against her skin. He knew he should step away, cool off, regain control before things went too far. But the way she looked at him, daring him to do something about it, made it impossible to think straight.

“Careful,” he warned, his voice dark with unspoken intent. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

“And you’re losing,” she shot back, her lips brushing his again, just enough to drive him wild.

Seungmin’s grip on her hips faltered, and in that moment, all his walls came crashing down.

Seungmin’s breathing was uneven, his chest rising and falling as his fingers curled into the fabric of Y/N’s shirt. For a moment, he hesitated, as if waiting for her to pull away. But she didn’t. Instead, she looked at him with a mix of defiance and something softer—something she wouldn’t dare say out loud.

His lips brushed against hers again, slower this time, as his hands slid beneath the hem of her shirt. Her skin felt warm under his touch, and the way she shivered made his pulse race. He tugged the fabric upward, breaking the kiss just long enough to pull it over her head. It hit the floor in a forgotten heap.

Y/N leaned back against the wall, her eyes dark with something dangerously close to surrender. But she wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. Not entirely.

“Still hate me?” he whispered, his voice low and edged with amusement as his fingertips traced the curve of her waist.

“More than ever,” she shot back, though the breathlessness in her voice made it clear how thin her resolve had become.

Seungmin smirked, leaning in closer, his lips brushing the hollow of her throat. “Liar.” His hands wandered, slow and deliberate, as if teasing her—testing her patience.

Y/N clenched her jaw, determined not to give him the upper hand. But every touch, every kiss made it harder to think, harder to hold on to the walls she’d built between them.

When his fingers found the button of her jeans, her heart stuttered. He paused, giving her one last chance to stop this, to walk away. But instead of pushing him back, she reached up, her hands sliding through his hair, tugging him down into another kiss.

That was all the confirmation Seungmin needed. His lips curved into a grin against hers as he made quick work of the button and zipper, dragging the denim down her legs with a teasing slowness that made her squirm.

“You’re really bad at hating me,” he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction.

Y/N let out a shaky laugh, her hands tugging at his shirt in response. “And you talk way too much.”

He chuckled, the sound low and husky as he pulled off his own shirt, tossing it aside carelessly. His gaze swept over her, heated and unguarded, and for the first time, there was no hint of mockery in his expression. Just want. Raw and undeniable.

Y/N swallowed hard, suddenly unsure of where hatred ended and desire began—or if there had ever been a difference at all.

Seungmin pushed Y/N against the wall, his body pressed tightly against hers. "You're so stubborn," he growled, his eyes burning with desire. "But I know you can't resist me."

Seungmin held her firmly in place. He began to kiss her neck, his lips and tongue leaving a trail of fire on her skin.

"I hate you," she said, but her voice was shaky and breathless. Seungmin chuckled against her skin. "No, you don't," he said, his voice low and husky. "You hate that you want me so badly."

He began to run his hands over her body, his touch sending sparks of pleasure through her. He cupped her breasts and squeezed them gently, eliciting a soft moan from Y/N.

"You're so responsive," he whispered, his lips grazing her ear. "I love the way your body reacts to me."

He continued to tease her, his fingers tracing the curves of her body and finding all the spots that made her shiver with desire. Y/N tried to hold back, but she couldn't help but arch into his touch, craving more of his attention.

"You're mine," Seungmin said, his voice filled with possessiveness. "And I'm going to make you feel so good."

He lifted her up and wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing her against the wall once again. He looked into her eyes, his gaze filled with lust and determination.

"Admit it," he said, his voice low and commanding. "Admit that you want me as much as I want you."

“Fine I want you..” she said barley above a whisper.

Seungmin's hands roamed over Y/N's body as he held her against the wall, his touch becoming more and more intense. He captured her lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue exploring her mouth hungrily.

Y/N responded eagerly, her body pressed tightly against his as she surrendered to the moment. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer as their kiss deepened.

Seungmin's hands slid down to her hips, gripping them tightly as he began to grind against her. Y/N moaned into the kiss, the friction between them sending waves of pleasure through her body.

"You're so wet for me," Seungmin growled, breaking the kiss to nibble on her earlobe. "I can feel it."

Y/N blushed at his words, but she couldn't deny the truth. She was completely aroused by him, and she wanted more.

Seungmin began to kiss his way down her neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses as he went. He reached her breasts and took one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking and teasing it with his tongue.

Y/N gasped and arched her back, her fingers tangling in Seungmin's hair as he continued to pleasure her. "Oh god," she moaned, her voice filled with need.

Seungmin continued to kiss and suck on Y/N's breasts, his hands roaming over her body as he did so. He could feel her growing more and more aroused, her body trembling with need.

He slid one hand down to her inner thigh, his fingers tracing gentle circles on her sensitive skin. Y/N gasped as he got closer and closer to her core, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

"You're so wet," Seungmin said again, his voice thick with desire. "I can't wait to feel you."

He slid his hand between her legs, his fingers finding her slick folds. Y/N let out a low moan as he began to rub her clit in slow, teasing circles.

"Oh god, yes," she gasped, her head falling back against the wall. "More."

Seungmin grinned and began to move his fingers faster, applying more pressure to her clit.

I'm sorry for the misunderstanding, I will try again.

Seungmin continued to tease Y/N's clit, bringing her to the edge but not quite letting her come. She was panting and writhing against him, desperate for release.

"Please," she gasped, her voice filled with need. "I need more."

Seungmin grinned and slid his fingers inside her, curling them up to hit her g-spot. Y/N cried out, her body arching off the wall as he began to pump his fingers in and out of her.

"You're so tight," he growled, his eyes locked on hers. "I can't wait to feel you wrapped around my cock."

He continued to finger her, his thumb rubbing her clit in time with his movements. Y/N was completely lost in the pleasure, her body aching for more.

Finally, Seungmin pulled his fingers out of her and lifted her up, wrapping her legs around his waist. He positioned himself at her entrance, the head of his cock just barely touching her.

"Are you ready for me?" he asked, his voice low and rough.

Seungmin looked into Y/N's eyes, his gaze filled with desire and dominance. "You're mine," he said again, his voice possessive. "And I'm going to take you now."

With that, he pushed into her, filling her completely in one smooth thrust. Y/N gasped, her body stretching to accommodate his size.

"Oh god, you're so big," she moaned, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

Seungmin began to move, thrusting into her with a slow, steady rhythm. He was hitting all the right spots, and Y/N could feel herself getting closer and closer to the edge again.

"You feel so good," he groaned, his hands gripping her hips tightly. "I love the way you take my cock."

Y/N couldn't speak, she was too lost in the pleasure. All she could do was hold on to Seungmin as he fucked her against the wall, driving her wild with his powerful thrusts.

As Seungmin continued to thrust into Y/N, he couldn't help but notice the way she was looking at him. There was something different in her eyes, something he had never seen before.

It was a mixture of desire and vulnerability, and it made his heart skip a beat. He had always seen her as an enemy, someone he was constantly competing with and trying to one-up. But in this moment, as he held her in his arms and felt her body responding to his touch, he saw her in a new light.

He leaned in and kissed her, his lips claiming hers in a fierce, possessive kiss. Y/N responded eagerly, her arms wrapping around his neck as she kissed him back.

For a moment, all the animosity between them was forgotten. In that moment, they were just two people lost in the heat of passion, driven by desire and a strange sense of connection.

Seungmin broke the kiss and looked at Y/N, his eyes filled with a mixture of lust and something else he couldn't quite name. "I hate you," he said, his voice low and hoarse. "But I also can't get enough of you."

Seungmin began to thrust into Y/N harder and faster, his hips snapping against hers with a bruising force. He could feel her body responding to his roughness, her moans growing louder and more desperate.

"You like it rough, don't you?" he growled in her ear, his voice low and commanding. "You like it when I take control and use you like this."

Y/N nodded, her eyes glazed over with pleasure. "Yes," she gasped, her voice barely above a whisper. "I love it when you're rough with me."

Seungmin chuckled and nipped at her earlobe. "You're such a little slut," he said, his words sending a shiver down her spine. "Begging for my cock like this. You're so pathetic."

Y/N moaned at his words, her body clenching around him. She loved it when he degraded her, it made her feel so dirty and used.

"Please," she gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders. "Please, I need more."

Seungmin smirked and grabbed her hair, pulling her head back so that he could look into her eyes. "More what?" he asked, his voice dripping with dominance. "Tell me what you want."

Y/N looked up at Seungmin, her eyes filled with desire and submission. "I want you to use me," she said, her voice trembling with need. "I want you to fuck me so hard I can't walk. I want you to make me yours."

Seungmin's eyes darkened with lust at her words. He loved seeing her like this, so desperate and willing to submit to him.

"You're mine," he growled, his grip on her hair tightening. "And I'll do whatever I want with you. I'll use you until you're begging me to stop."

He began to pound into her harder than ever before, his hips slamming against hers with brutal force. Y/N cried out, her body shaking with pleasure as he fucked her mercilessly.

"You like that, don't you?" he panted, his breath hot against her ear. "You like it when I use your body like a toy. You're just a hole for me to fill, nothing more."

Seungmin continued to pound into Y/N, his thrusts becoming more and more erratic as he approached his own release. He could feel her body tensing up, signaling that she was close too.

"Come for me," he growled, his voice low and demanding. "I want to feel you come around my cock."

Y/N cried out as her orgasm washed over her, her body convulsing with pleasure. Seungmin followed shortly after, pulling out and spilling on her stomach.

They stayed like that for a moment, both panting and trembling from the intensity of their orgasms. Finally, Seungmin set her down on the ground, both of them still struggling to catch their breath.

He looked at her, his expression softening slightly. "You're incredible," he said, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and tenderness.

Day 13 – Y/N’s House

The sunlight streamed through the window, casting a warm glow across the room. Y/N stirred, blinking against the brightness, and a flood of memories rushed back to her from the night before. She felt a rush of warmth at the thought of Seungmin, the way he had looked at her, the heat of his skin against hers. It was strange how everything felt different now, how a single night could shift the dynamics of their so-called “hate.”

Turning slightly, she found Seungmin still asleep beside her, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. For a moment, she just watched him, a mixture of confusion and warmth swirling in her chest. There was something almost peaceful about him, and it made her smile despite the chaos of emotions bubbling just beneath the surface.

But they had a project to finish, and the reality of their situation hit her like a splash of cold water. They were supposed to be working together, and time was running out. With a reluctant sigh, she slid out of bed, careful not to wake him.

As she gathered her clothes from the floor, her heart raced. The memory of last night—the heated kisses, the way they had shed their defenses—was fresh and vivid. It felt surreal to have crossed that line with him, yet a part of her felt exhilarated.

After getting dressed, Y/N made her way to the kitchen, needing a moment to collect her thoughts. She poured herself a cup of coffee, the rich aroma filling the space, grounding her in the present. How were they supposed to go back to the project after what had happened?

A soft voice broke her thoughts. “You’re up early.”

She turned to see Seungmin leaning against the doorframe, tousled hair and sleepy eyes. He looked relaxed, and the sight of him sent another rush of warmth through her.

“Couldn’t sleep,” she admitted, trying to sound casual. “We have a project to finish, remember?”

Seungmin smirked, that familiar glint of mischief in his eyes. “Right, the project. Not the best way to get things done, huh?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, her heart racing at his teasing tone. “I didn’t hear you complaining last night.”

“Touché,” he replied, stepping closer. “So, what’s the plan? We can’t have another ‘distraction’ if we want to actually get this done.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, the tension between them suddenly palpable again. “Agreed. Let’s focus on the project—no more distractions.”

“Sure, sure,” he said, leaning against the counter, his gaze fixed on her. “But can you blame me? You’re hard to resist.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at his words. This wasn’t just about the project anymore; they were navigating uncharted territory, and the stakes felt higher than ever.

“Fine,” she said, breaking the gaze to focus on the task at hand. “Let’s just get started.”

“Okay, but you have to admit this will be way more fun now,” he said, moving closer, his arm brushing against hers.

“Fun? You call this fun?” she challenged, raising an eyebrow but unable to suppress a smile.

Seungmin stepped back slightly, his expression shifting to something more serious. “I meant it. Working together now feels… different. Good different.”

The sincerity in his voice made her heart race again. Y/N swallowed hard, nodding as she felt the weight of his gaze. “Yeah, it does.”

With that unspoken agreement lingering in the air, they set to work, but the undercurrents of their new dynamic kept pulling them closer.

Day 15 – Y/N’s House final day working together

Two weeks had passed since their unexpected night together, and as they sat at Y/N’s dining table surrounded by textbooks, papers, and half-empty coffee mugs, something had shifted between them. The tension that once crackled in the air had begun to simmer down, replaced by a comfortable camaraderie that neither of them had anticipated.

“Okay, so if we present this section like this, it’ll really emphasize our main argument,” Y/N said, tapping her pen against the paper. She glanced up at Seungmin, who was leaning back in his chair with a contemplative look on his face.

“Yeah, that makes sense. But what if we add some visuals? You know, to make it more engaging?” His eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, a side of him that she was starting to appreciate more and more.

“Visuals?” She raised an eyebrow, pretending to be skeptical. “Look at you, getting all creative on me. Who knew you had it in you?”

“Don’t act surprised,” he shot back playfully. “I’m full of surprises.”

Y/N laughed, feeling the warmth of their easy banter wrap around them like a comforting blanket. The more they worked together, the more she found herself appreciating his sharp wit and unexpected insights. It was refreshing—almost intoxicating—in a way she hadn’t expected.

They spent the next hour flipping through articles and compiling their findings, the project taking shape as they built off each other’s ideas. The conversation flowed naturally, filled with light teasing and genuine laughter. It was a stark contrast to the arguments that had marked the beginning of their partnership.

“Okay, how about we meet up tomorrow to finalize everything?” Y/N suggested, leaning back in her chair. “I think we’re almost there.”

“Sure, but only if you promise to bring those cookies you made last week,” Seungmin replied, a playful smirk on his lips.

“Ugh, fine. But you have to promise not to eat them all before we even start working,” she shot back, shaking her head.

“I make no promises,” he teased, winking at her.

The playful banter felt effortless, and Y/N found herself savoring these moments more than she had anticipated. As they wrapped up their work for the day, Seungmin stood up, stretching his arms overhead.

“Wow, I didn’t think this project would actually turn out to be fun,” he admitted, looking at her with a genuine smile.

Y/N felt a flutter in her chest at the sight. “It’s not so bad when you stop being such a jerk.”

“Hey, I can’t help it if I’m naturally charming,” he replied, grinning as he leaned against the table, his proximity making her heart race.

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “Right, charming. Just don’t let it get to your head.”

“Too late,” he said, leaning in slightly. “But seriously, I’m glad we’re doing this together.”

There was a sincerity in his voice that made her pause. The weight of their history—the arguments, the hatred that had once defined them—felt lighter in that moment. Maybe they were finally crossing into something new, something better.

“Me too,” Y/N replied softly, meeting his gaze. The air around them thickened with an unspoken understanding, a connection that went beyond their project.

As they cleaned up, Y/N felt a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, they could turn this partnership into something even more meaningful. As Seungmin gathered his things, she couldn’t help but wonder where this new path might lead them.

A Few Months Later – A Cozy Coffee Shop

The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped Y/N as she stepped into the quaint coffee shop nestled on the corner of their college campus. It was a chilly autumn afternoon, and the café was warm and inviting, filled with the soft hum of chatter and the clinking of cups. Y/N loved this place; it had become a regular hangout for her and Seungmin since their relationship had blossomed from a bickering partnership into something much more tender.

Today, the café was adorned with twinkling fairy lights and seasonal decorations, giving it a cozy ambiance that felt perfect for what was about to unfold. Y/N spotted Seungmin at their usual table by the window, engrossed in a book, his brow furrowed in concentration. A playful smile spread across her face as she approached him, his presence always stirring butterflies in her stomach.

“Hey, bookworm,” she teased, leaning over his shoulder to peek at the pages. “Found any good plots to steal for our own story?”

He looked up, his serious expression breaking into a grin. “Only the plot twist where I finally confess my undying love for you.”

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat, laughter bubbling up in her chest. “Is that so? You might need a little more practice with that line.”

“Maybe I just need the right moment,” he replied, his eyes locking onto hers with a depth that made her pulse quicken.

They shared a comfortable silence for a moment, the warmth of their connection wrapping around them like a soft blanket. The weeks spent together had transformed their relationship from casual friends into something deeper, something thrilling. Y/N had come to cherish these moments—quiet, intimate, filled with laughter and lingering gazes.

As the barista approached with their drinks, Y/N could feel the electric tension hanging in the air, a palpable anticipation that hinted at something monumental about to happen. She took a sip of her caramel macchiato, savoring the sweet flavor as she watched Seungmin.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice steady but edged with nervous energy. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us lately.”

Her heart raced at the seriousness in his tone. “Yeah? What about us?”

He hesitated, running a hand through his hair, and she could see the gears turning in his mind. “You know how we started off as rivals? Just two stubborn people who couldn’t stand each other?”

Y/N nodded, a soft chuckle escaping her lips at the memory of their fiery arguments. “I remember. You were insufferable.”

“True,” he admitted, smirking. “But it’s wild to think that after all the bickering, you became someone I can’t imagine my life without.”

Her breath caught in her throat, the weight of his words settling over her like a warm embrace. “Seungmin…”

“I’ve fought it for so long, thinking it would complicate everything,” he continued, his gaze never wavering. “But I can’t hide it anymore. I’ve fallen for you, Y/N. I want to be more than just partners or friends. I want to be with you, all of you.”

Y/N’s heart soared, an exhilarating mix of relief and joy flooding her senses. “You really mean that?” she asked, searching his eyes for sincerity.

“Absolutely,” he replied, his voice soft but resolute. “You make me want to be a better person, and I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way.”

The warmth blossoming in her chest felt like sunshine breaking through the clouds. “I feel the same way. I’ve liked you for a while now, but I didn’t know how to say it.”

A wide smile spread across his face, the relief in his expression contagious. “So we’re really doing this?”

“Definitely,” she said, feeling the corners of her mouth lift in a smile that matched his.

Seungmin leaned in closer, their breaths mingling as he whispered, “Then how about we celebrate with a kiss?”

Y/N’s heart raced as she nodded, the thrill of anticipation coursing through her. Their lips met softly at first, a tentative exploration, but it quickly ignited into something deeper and more passionate. The world around them faded, the café’s warmth wrapping around them as they melted into each other, the kiss filled with everything they had held back until now.

When they finally pulled away, both breathless and smiling, the connection between them felt stronger than ever. “Wow,” Y/N breathed, her heart racing.

“Wow, indeed,” he echoed, his voice low and filled with emotion. “This feels right, doesn’t it?”

“It does,” she agreed, feeling a rush of warmth. “I can’t believe we waited this long.”

Seungmin chuckled, his fingers brushing against hers as he held her gaze. “Well, now that we’ve cleared that up, I’m looking forward to all the moments we’re going to create together.”

As they sat in the cozy café, surrounded by the laughter of others, Y/N felt a sense of excitement for the future. The journey they had embarked on was just beginning, and the possibilities seemed endless.

“Let’s make a pact,” she said suddenly, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “No more fighting, only adventures.”

“Deal,” he replied, a playful grin spreading across his face. “But I can’t promise I won’t challenge you to a debate or two.”

“Fine, but I’ll win every time,” Y/N countered, her heart light with laughter.

As the sun began to set outside, casting a warm glow through the café’s windows, Y/N knew that this was just the beginning of their story. With every laugh, every kiss, and every moment shared, they would write a tale that was uniquely theirs—one filled with love, adventure, and the promise of many more memories to come.

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deliciousangelfestival · 11 months ago

Text

Echoes Of Revenge || Part 1

Character: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Y/N, an analyst at Goldenlix Capital, discovers her promotion hopes crushed by favoritism. Seeking solace in a nightclub, she encounters her past tormentor, Bucky.

Warning: Betrayal, heartbreak, manipulation.

Part 2 : Shattered Echoes

Part 3: All The Lies

Part 4: Sweetest Dreams

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more.

Y/N, an ambitious analyst at Goldenlix Capital, had consistently delivered profitable predictions for the hedge fund.

Despite her hard work, the promotion she longed for slipped away when the CEO's nephew, Simon, secured the portfolio manager position.

Frustrated, Y/N sought solace at a nightclub with her colleagues. As Y/N immersed herself in the pulsating beats and vibrant atmosphere of the nightclub, she was unaware of the watchful eyes observing her every move.

The rhythm of the music and the clinking of glasses provided a temporary escape from the frustrations at work.

Suddenly, a lavish display of expensive drinks arrived at her table, catching Y/N off guard. The waitress informed her that they were compliments of the house, leaving Y/N momentarily puzzled by the unexpected gesture.

Just as she wondered who might be behind this gesture, Bucky entered.

Bucky made his entrance with confidence, navigating through the crowd with a swagger that suggested a newfound maturity.

Dressed in an impeccably tailored, expensive suit, he exuded a sense of self-assuredness. His arrival was accompanied by the subtle clink of cufflinks and the rich scent of a high-end cologne.

As he approached Y/N's table, Bucky flashed a charming smile, his eyes hinting at a mixture of mischief and sophistication.

However, Y/N, ever focused and unswayed by external displays, remained unimpressed by his polished appearance. She eyed him skeptically, silently signaling that material possessions wouldn't alter her priorities or impressions.

With a smirk, he approached Y/N, confidently revealing, "I thought you could use a taste of the finer things tonight, Y/N. It's on me.”

There, she unexpectedly encountered Bucky, a college classmate with a history of teasing her. Now claiming to be the club's owner, Bucky attempted to flirt with her.

Unimpressed, Y/N looked down on his attempt to impress her. "Owning a nightclub doesn't change who you are, Bucky. I'm focused on my career," she retorted, dismissing his advances.

Undeterred, Bucky tried a different approach, acknowledging his past mistakes. "People change, Y/N. Maybe you should loosen up and enjoy the night," he suggested.

Maintaining her composure, Y/N replied, "I'll pass on the life lessons, Bucky. I have bigger goals than spending my time with someone who hasn't really grown up.”

Y/N's colleagues discreetly made their exit, leaving her alone with Bucky. He nodded appreciatively, acknowledging their departure, and sat beside her, pouring a drink into her glass.

"So, what's the problem? I never thought the nerd of my class would spend money on the expensive table," Bucky remarked teasingly.

Y/N scoffed, "This is expensive? I didn't realize."

Surprised by her nonchalant response, Bucky commented, "Where is the timid Y/N I know? She's gone.”

Y/N gulped her drink, contemplating his observation. "Money. Everything could change because of money," she admitted.

Her past, rooted in a modest upbringing, had shaped her determination to succeed. Working hard to escape financial constraints, her dream was to become a fund manager.

She looked at Bucky with a hint of disdain. She doesn't appreciate people like him who lead careless lives just because they come from wealthy families.

Bucky noticed the scattered name cards of Y/N's colleagues on the table and picked one up. Reading it, he remarked, "Goldenlix Capital? You work there? That's impressive."

Y/N responded with a nonchalant "hmm."

Bucky, perceptive, ventured, "Let me guess, you didn't get the promotion?"

Surprised, Y/N asked, "How...?"

Bucky leaned back, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "I've seen many types of people come and go in this place," he said, revealing a hint of insight into the workings of the professional world they both navigated.

Bucky's casual revelation about his observations at Goldenlix Capital intrigued Y/N, prompting her to give him a scrutinizing look. As she contemplated his words, Bucky continued, "It's a tough world out there, especially when you're navigating corporate ladders."

Y/N, still guarded, responded, "You seem to have it all figured out."

Bucky chuckled, "Well, not everything, but I've learned a thing or two. Sometimes it's not just about hard work; it's about playing the game.”

Bucky leaned in, a glint of sincerity in his eyes, as he proposed, "Let me be your client."

Y/N, skeptical, questioned, "Why?"

Bucky shrugged a hint of nostalgia in his tone, "I don't know. Perhaps because of a nostalgic feeling. I want to help an old friend."

Y/N, maintaining her guard, retorted, "We were never friends. You always used me."

With a sly smile, Bucky countered, "Then, I'll use this as my apology letter."

The air between them carried tension, a mix of unresolved history and an unexpected proposal.

As Bucky got closer, the alluring scent of his elegant perfume enveloped Y/N. Their proximity seemed to amplify the tension, a subtle dance of conflicting emotions.

"I'm serious. Give me your name card," Bucky whispered, a soft murmur against the rhythmic beats of the music.

Y/N, somewhat reluctantly, handed over her name card. Bucky took it with a charming smile, his gaze lingering on hers. "Tomorrow your boss will go nuts," he predicted, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

With a final, lingering look, Bucky gracefully rose from his seat. "See you next time," he said, leaving Y/N in a state of contemplation, the lingering scent of his perfume and the enigmatic encounter resonating in the dimly lit ambiance of the nightclub.

Excitement mixed with intrigue surged through Y/N as she stepped into the bustling office the next day. Her boss, Ivan, beckoned her into his office with an animated expression, "Y/N, we've just landed a significant new client. The funds have been wired, and you're in charge."

Perusing the financial statement, Y/N's eyes widened at the substantial amount. "This is impressive, sir. I'll ensure it's handled with utmost precision," she assured.

Ivan leaned back in his chair, a shrewd smile on his lips. "Not just impressive, Y/N. Make it triple. We need to show our new client the prowess of Goldenlix Capital.”

Y/N nodded, her mind already racing with investment strategies. "I'll diversify the portfolio, perhaps allocate more in growth stocks, considering the current market trends. And we can leverage options to enhance returns without taking excessive risk," she suggested.

Ivan impressed with her immediate analysis, nodded in agreement. "Exactly, Y/N. Show them why you're the rising star here."

As she left his office, Y/N couldn't help but reflect on the unexpected turn of events—Bucky's proposition at the nightclub, the mysterious new client, and now the challenge to triple the investment.

Now witnessing his portfolio's profits tripling under Y/N's adept guidance, Bucky couldn't help but be impressed. As rumors circulated about Y/N potentially becoming the next portfolio manager, her boss and colleagues acknowledged her exceptional skills.

One day, Bucky approached Y/N with a mixture of admiration and amusement. "I knew I could count on you, Y/N. Looks like you're not just the 'nerd' from our college days anymore."

Y/N, maintaining her professionalism, Y/N replied with a slight smirk, "Money talks, Bucky. It's all about making the right moves in the market."

Bucky, however, seemed persistent in keeping the conversation personal. "Or maybe it's about making the right moves in life," he teased, a suggestive glint in his eyes.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, unyielding. "Let's keep it professional, Bucky. This is business.”

As Y/N attempted to make a swift exit, Bucky intercepted her, his hand gently restraining her. Irritated, she shot him a sharp look, demanding, "What?!"

Bucky, undeterred, asserted, "I'll double my money."

Y/N, skeptical, retorted, "What for? You already have enough. You need to learn about limits."

With a wry smile, Bucky countered, "If I have to pay a high price just to have a date with you, then I will pay everything."

Rolling her eyes, Y/N dismissed his proposition, "Yeah, right."

Bucky leaned in, a teasing glint in his eyes. "My silly Y/N. Don't you know why I always played with you back then?”

Y/N, unamused, shot back, "You bullied me to get my attention. Are you in kindergarten?”

Y/N, after a moment of contemplation, finally relented, "Fine. One date. But no, I don't want your money. The stock market is not good this time. What if you get mad because you lose money?"

Bucky chuckled, his tone playful, "There's no way I'm going to be mad at you, silly.”

As Y/N and Bucky shared that one date, their connection deepened, weaving a thread of unexpected intimacy into their lives.

The complexities of their relationship unfolded like a carefully scripted narrative, intertwining the professional and personal in a way that left Y/N simultaneously exhilarated and hesitant.

Her life, seemingly perfect after successfully handling Bucky's portfolio, took an unforeseen turn when her Ivan dropped a bombshell – he wanted to hand over Bucky, her biggest client, to his nephew, Simon.

The news sent shockwaves through Y/N, her world suddenly tilted on its axis.

Y/N, with a mix of frustration and anxiety, found herself standing at Bucky's doorstep, the weight of her predicament evident in her eyes. Sensing her distress, Bucky welcomed her inside, "What happened, Y/N? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Taking a deep breath, Y/N explained the situation, "My boss wants to hand over your portfolio to his nephew. It's a complete mess, and I don't know what to do."

Bucky, leaning against the wall, studied her with a thoughtful gaze. "You came to me for help. Looks like our roles are reversing."

Y/N, a hint of vulnerability in her voice, admitted, "I never thought I'd need help, especially from someone like you.”

Bucky, his expression softening, replied, "We all need help sometimes. It doesn't make you weak.”

As Y/N faced the uncertain aftermath of seeking Bucky's help, she soon discovered that her most significant competitor, Simon, had mysteriously vanished from the office scene.

The absence of the rival candidate created a void that only she could fill, paving the way for Y/N to enter the role of project manager uncontested.

The news rippled through the office, and Y/N found herself at the center of surprise and admiration.

Colleagues congratulated her on the unexpected turn of events, and her boss, puzzled by his nephew's disappearance, acknowledged her as the natural choice for the project manager position.

Gratitude and curiosity again led Y/N to Bucky's door, a soft knock signaling her presence. As Bucky opened the door, a knowing smile played on his lips, "Come to thank me, Y/N?"

Y/N responded with a hint of appreciation in her eyes, "I can't deny that your mysterious touch might have played a role in my unexpected promotion. So, thank you."

Bucky, stepping closer, his gaze lingering, remarked, "I'm always here to help, especially when it comes to you.”

Three months had passed, and Bucky, in the routine of his daily activities, eagerly anticipated seeing his girlfriend. The past week had kept Y/N busy as she jetted off to Dubai to meet with a new client.

However, on this particular day, as Bucky went about his usual tasks, his assistant interrupted, a hint of apprehension in their voice, "Sir, the police are here."

Bucky, initially thinking he had misheard, questioned, "Huh?"

The police, standing with an air of authority, informed Bucky that he was accused of money laundering. Unfazed, Bucky dismissed the accusation with a roll of his eyes, stating, "Money laundering? I'm a legit businessman.”

The police countered, accusing him of using Goldenlix Capital for money laundering. Bucky scoffed, insisting the company was legitimate.

The turning point came when his assistant displayed a live news report on their phone, revealing that Goldenlix Capital was now branded as a scam company.

Bucky, disbelief written on his face, uttered, "What?!" Realizing the severity of the situation, he urgently reached for his phone, attempting to call Y/N, only to face the frustration of her unanswered calls.

As the news of Goldenlix Capital being labeled a scam investment company flooded every media outlet, Bucky was engulfed in chaos. Desperate for information about Y/N's whereabouts, he pressed the police, hoping for reassurance.

Bucky questioned, anxiety seeping into his voice, "Have you seen any news about Y/N?"

The police, maintaining an air of detachment, replied, “She went missing."

Bucky's eyes widened in disbelief, and he uttered a baffled "Huh?!" The absence of Y/N from the news coverage added another layer of mystery to an already bewildering situation.

As he grappled with the unfolding events, uncertainty and concern for Y/N's safety overshadow the chaos surrounding Goldenlix Capital.

The unfolding chaos threatened his professional empire and the stability of the connection he had built with Y/N in the past few months.

Fury burned within Bucky as the realization sunk in – he hadn't merely lost money; he had been played. The anger surged through him, a relentless fire fueled by the betrayal he felt. Determination set in, transforming his frustration into a resolute mission.

His mind raced with questions about Y/N's motives, but the lack of information only intensified his desire to uncover the truth.

Bucky, driven by a newfound resolve, vowed to track down Y/N and unravel the mystery behind her involvement, or lack thereof, in the scandal that had befallen Goldenlix Capital.

As Y/N sat on the beach, watching the chaos unfold on her tablet, a sense of satisfaction washed over her. Finally, her carefully orchestrated plan to destroy Goldenlix Capital was playing out as intended.

The roots of her vendetta can be traced back 15 years when her family, once content in their middle-class life, had fallen victim to a deceitful investment scheme.

Flashback Start

Introduced by a relative, Y/N's father had invested a small amount in Maxim Capital, enticed by the promise of a 7% monthly profit. The regular returns had built a false sense of trust.

However, driven by greed, Y/N's father had invested half of their savings into Maxim Capital. The deceptive scheme vanished six months later, leaving the company in ruins and wiping out a significant portion of Y/N's family's hard-earned money.

As Y/N's family crumbled into financial ruin after the Maxim Capital scam, her relative, who had introduced them to the fraudulent investment, callously shrugged off any responsibility. The repercussions were severe, forcing Y/N's father to take desperate measures.

Unable to secure a traditional loan due to his plummeted credit score, Y/N's father sought assistance from a loan shark. The borrowed sum might have been small, intended for crucial medicine for Y/N's ailing mother, but its interest was exorbitant.

The loan shark in question, Nicholas Barnes, was none other than Bucky's father.

Fueled by a burning anger and a thirst for revenge, Y/N channeled her emotions into her studies, delving deep into economics to comprehend the intricacies of investments.

Her pursuit of knowledge became a double-edged sword, with academic excellence as a guise for a more sinister motive.

Even as she immersed herself in her studies, Y/N never lost sight of her plan for retribution. Every lesson about investments and financial strategies became a tool in her arsenal to orchestrate the downfall of those who had once exploited her family's vulnerabilities.

As Y/N navigated the complexities of her revenge plan, an unexpected twist unfolded in the form of Bucky. Fortune seemed to favor her, and she couldn't quite comprehend why the "Goddess of luck" appeared on her side. Bucky's growing interest in her became a peculiar element in her carefully crafted narrative.

While Y/N couldn't fathom the reasons behind Bucky's fascination, she saw it as a stroke of luck.

Y/N, cleverly using her position at Goldenlix, exploited the opportunity to gather information about the victims of the investment scams discreetly.

The guise of her role gave her access to crucial details, names, and backgrounds that would later become instrumental in executing her revenge.

In the case of Bucky, her intentions were more straightforward – to pilfer his wealth. The intricate dance of trust and vulnerability between them served as a cover for her ulterior motives.

Y/N, driven by a desire for retribution, saw Bucky's financial downfall as a key component of her revenge plan.

Their shared history of friendship only fueled Y/N's determination to make Bucky understand the anguish of misplaced trust.

Just as Nicholas had played with her father's trust, she intended to manipulate Bucky's emotions, leading him down a path of betrayal that mirrored her family's pain years ago.

Flashback End

As Y/N settled into her seat, her fingers danced across the keyboard with purpose. Each keystroke represented a meticulous calculation, determining the amount of money – with the accrued interest over 15 years – that Goldenlix Capital had pilfered from their unsuspecting victims.

With a determined click of the 'Send' button, Y/N initiated a digital cascade that would return the ill-gotten gains to those who had fallen prey to the investment scams.

Despite the years that had elapsed since their losses, she hoped this restitution would bring peace to the victims.

As Y/N gazed up at the sky, a quiet moment of reflection enveloped her. The weight of her actions, the meticulous plan for revenge, and the redemption she had sought for her family hung in the air.

She hoped, somewhere beyond the vast expanse above, that her parents would be proud of her unconventional method of reclaiming their lost money.

One year later, in the quiet embrace of a small town, a remarkable female teacher had become a beacon of inspiration at the local elementary school.

Known for her exceptional skills in teaching mathematics, she cultivated a passion for numbers among her students. She led them to triumph at the Olympic level, earning gold medals for their achievements.

The echoes of her dedication resonated through the halls of the school, leaving an indelible mark on the young minds she nurtured.

The once-sleepy town now boasted a newfound pride in its educational achievements, thanks to the remarkable teacher whose commitment and expertise had transformed the academic landscape.

The routine exchange of greetings became a familiar melody in the small town's elementary school. Every morning, as students hurried through the hallways, they would greet their beloved teacher with a cheerful, "Morning, Miss Y/N."

Y/N, now a beacon of knowledge and guidance for these young minds, responded with a warm smile, echoing, "Morning, don't run in the hallway."

"Okay."

The simple yet affectionate interactions spoke volumes about the transformation Y/N had undergone – from a seeker of revenge to a nurturing educator shaping the future

As Y/N reflected on the passing year, a bittersweet smile played on her lips. Justice had been served as the boss of Goldenlix, and Ivan faced the consequences, forced to part with his ill-gotten wealth to cover legal expenses.

However, when it came to Bucky, a twinge of regret and sadness lingered in her heart. The connection they had forged amidst the intricate dance of revenge carried a weight of impossibility. The revelation that he was the son of the loan shark, Nicholas Barnes, cast a shadow over what could have been.

Y/N, despite the passage of time, Y/N found herself haunted by a lingering fear that Bucky might seek revenge. The uncertainty gnawed at her, and she wished she could overcome the apprehension that one day, the consequences of her calculated actions might come knocking at her door.

As Y/N returned to her small home, an unsettling feeling crept over her. The once familiar space now emanated an unusual coldness. A sense of foreboding settled in, causing her to hesitate before stepping further into the house.

When she decided to leave, her hand reaching for the doorknob, she discovered a chilling truth – the door was locked outside. Panic set in as the realization dawned that she was trapped within her own home.

Fear gripped Y/N's heart as she grappled with the possibility that her past actions might be catching up to her.

A chill ran down her spine as Y/N stood trapped in her own house when the front door creaked open. The atmosphere shifted as an unwelcome presence entered, and the smile that once held warmth now appeared cold and calculated.

Bucky, who had stepped into her sanctuary, greeted her with an unsettling calmness, "Hello, sweetie. You have some explaining to do.”

Author Note:

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thatsdemko · 2 years ago

Text

secrets out - m.verstappen

masterlist

requested: n

pairings: max verstappen x reader

warnings: mentions of pregnancy + anxious thoughts + mentions of hookups + instagram au at the end

photo credits: Pinterest

a/n: I’m starting to like max but I’m still a Ferrari girl 🫡 also please do not ever ask me to do a instagram au that was a lot of work and I was sweating because of it I don’t know how some of you can do it!

most friendships between a man and a woman never stay platonic. the key word was most, and unfortunately you fell into that category because for a little over a year your childhood best friend became your fuck buddy.

you’re not sure when it started or how it happened, but it was an evening you wouldn’t forget because it change the trajectory of both of your lives forever.

you could barely be in the same room for long without feeling that sexual magnetic pole pull you from the across the room and under the sheets. you barely had conversations anymore, most of your time consisted of raw passionate sex.

and that’s what’s led you to this moment. sitting on the cold hotel bathroom tile hunched over the toilet. you swore to max it was just the alcohol or food poisoning, but he’s not confident in your answer. not since it’s been two mornings in a row you’ve ended up like this.

“I’ll see you at the paddock?” he leans behind your body, hand pressing against your forehead to check your temperature. he couldn’t afford to get sick, not ahead of the race, and you knew that, but you couldn’t be sick. you have a perfect health record.

“yeah, I’ll be down as soon as I can.” you removed your eyes from the empty toilet bowl and over to him. concern washed over his face, out of all the years he’s known you, he’s never seen you so down bad before.

you sent him a fake smile that was supposed to confirm your words, but all it did was worsen his anxiety. he couldn’t leave you, but he had a job to deliver and despite him wanting to take care of you, you wouldn’t allow him to. not with an important race on the line.

“go, I promise I’ll be there.”

—

Isa helped you look presentable ahead of joining the Red Bull garage. she had heard from the grapevine that you weren’t feeling well, and when she arrived to your room she began getting you in the right direction to get up and go to the paddock.

isa was the only one who knew that you and max had been seeing each other beyond your friendship. many drunk moons ago you had admitted to your feelings and to your situationship (if it was even that) to her and she’s since then never told a soul.

“a stomach bug? we both ate the same thing yesterday? are you sure it’s not something else?” she’s whispering at this point, she knows the media’s presence was intense and they could pick up on anything and tell the public with a simple tweet. the internet was already suspicious of you and max, and hearing you both discuss illness could add more to the table.

“what else could it be? it’s been going on for two days now.” your eyes flickered around you hearing cameras shutter, reporters talking, and team members shuffling along. all it took was for one person to stop at the same time Isa did for you.

“have you thought about being pregnant?” her hands grabbed your arm not allowing you to walk away. she tilts her sunglasses down her nose, you can see she’s serious and not joking around. the thought never crossed your mind.

“I haven’t no, but max and I have been so careful and you know I’m on the pill.” your words are defensive feeling the anxiety rise in your body as you began to think about it. you couldn’t leave the paddock without someone in Monaco recognizing you, and you were damn sure you or her couldn’t buy a pregnancy test without someone finding out.

“you could just be sick, but isn’t it better to be safe and check?” she asks, her head slightly nods in the direction behind you. turning around, you see the Dutchman himself, Red Bull hat and collared shirt on ready for media day.

“I guess so.”

—

it’s nearly after midnight when max is sound asleep, and you’re in the bathroom carefully reading the instructions to the pregnancy test Isa had delivered to your hotel room. you’re thankful for whoever ran out to get it, because all day you couldn’t eat without feeling nauseous about being pregnant. you needed to know more than you could imagine.

you could barely think of anything else while you sat on the cold tile awaiting the results. you tried to occupy your mind with social media, games, etc. but your mind kept pulling back to the timer on your phone and the blue stick that sat in front of you.

you’ve had your fair share of pregnancy scares before with max, and he’s never needed to know. you would just take the test, see it’s negative, and then throw it away. but the sudden illness was not helping you ease the burden of possibly being pregnant. it was such a scary thing and so much responsibility, you knew max wasn’t ready, he hadn’t even asked you to be his girlfriend despite the numerous amount of dates he’s taken you on. being a father was a lot of ask from him.

the bell chimes of your timer quickly pulled you from your thoughts. you flipped the stick over immediately to see what your gut had been telling you the whole time. pregnant.

the pit of your stomach dropped as tears began to stream down your cheeks. how were you supposed to tell him? how were you sure he wanted this? how were you sure you even wanted this? all these things were beginning to add weight to your sobs and eventually max was woken up to the muffled sobs in the bathroom.

“y/n?” he pushed open the bathroom door to reveal you to him. knees shoved against your chest, body shaking as you cried. he slid down beside you pulling you into him. he saw the blue stick sitting on the floor, he didn’t dare to read the results, but he figured your tears were enough to tell him everything he needed to know.

“it’s okay, I’m here.” he says and it’s like you’re five all over again, except you’re not being bullied on the playground, you’re both facing the harsh realities of a years long hookup.

“it’s not okay, max.” you’re trying to push your body away from him, but ultimately fail. you don’t have the strength to do so, your body is tired and you felt safe in his arms. you didn’t want to pull away even if you tried once more.

“why’s it not okay? because you’re pregnant? is that why?” he removes his arms from around you, searching for tissues to wipe your tears. he’s not sure how he feels, but he doesn’t dare let that show to you.

“I know that’s not what you want.”

“not what I want?” he asks pulling away and moving to sit in front of you now. his index finger taps you under the chin to lift your head up from being tucked into your shell, “you are what I want, and being the father to our child is a blessing despite the way it happened.”

“you want to do this with me?” you ask, a little smile peaking onto your lips, he does the same but his is fuller and much more confident than yours, “absolutely.”

“you know that means we have to tell everyone we’ve been secretly seeing each other for awhile.” you can hear your father telling you he has heart failure because of this.

“the reaction on my mothers face will be priceless.”

—

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da-rulah · 1 year ago

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Come Home to Me - Secondo x f!reader

Summary: No one ever thought to question why Papa Emeritus II was such a bitter man. People assumed it was a product of his upbringing, of the pressures being an Emeritus brought him. But they had no idea that years ago, he was a completely different man. A man that you so easily fell in love with...

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Word Count: 10.3k (can I EVER write anything short?)

Warnings: MAJOR ANGST. jealous themes, themes of abandonment, poor childhood, mentions of alcohol addiction, domestic fights, anger, hurt, mild violence, bad break-up, description of panic attack, vaginal fingering, unprotected p in v sex

ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3

Secondo doesn't get anxious.

At least, that's what people would think to look at him; the burly, scary, angry looking Papa who would practically glide through the hallways of the Ministry he headed. And to look at him now, today, people wouldn't suggest anxiety be the baseline emotion for him either. But it certainly was; masked by a particularly foul mood, but it was definitely anxiety.

Because he'd just heard from his elder brother, that you were returning to the Ministry.

It had been years since he'd seen you; he'd been a Cardinal then. He'd always been a hardened man, bitter from his childhood of neglect and abuse at the hands of his deadbeat father, but... you had been the softness to balance him out. Until he'd fucked that all up, as he was always destined to do. He always knew his fiery temper would fuck him over someday.

And he'd been right....

8 Years Ago.

"You can't go," he told you firmly, no hint at all that he was willing to compromise on this.

"Secondo, please..." you tried to reason with him, "I have to! This is my job!"

Secondo chewed on the inside of his cheek, shaking his head as he looked down at his gloved fingers picking wool bobbles from his cassock. He stood awkwardly across from you in his quarters, letting you hover near the door as if you weren't welcome in here. The atmosphere felt cold, frosty even.

"You know, it's really rather telling that you would rather go swanning off on some tiny little tour of Europe with mio fratello than stay by my side," he rages, "This new little project of his is bound to fail, you know. It did for our father, it will for him."

Frankly, you were dumbfounded by the idea he thought you'd prefer to spend time with Primo than him. Of course you didn't, but you had no choice. Your job at Primo's side was an important one and not exactly negotiable. Secondo had never mentioned any form of jealousy before now, so why on earth would he bring that up if not just out of sheer spite?

"Ah, your silence says all. You know what? Go. Go ahead. But do not expect me to wait for you, Sorella."

"W-what... what do you mean?" you asked, tears welling up in your eyes.

"You want to disappear for months on end with Primo? Fine. But I have needs, and I cannot be expected to wait for your return. I will not become some idiota with blue balls because his girlfriend is too busy fucking his fratello in another country."

"You really think... what the fuck is wrong with you?!" you shrieked. How dare he. "Secondo, if you loved me at all you wouldn't even think of doing such a thing. And you'd trust me enough to know I would never!"

Secondo scoffed, turning in his place and heading towards the small liquor cabinet he kept in the corner of the living space. He wrenched open the door and pulled out a bottle of whiskey along with a tumbler, and poured himself a small drink.

You stood and watched him, tears now silently trickling from your eyes. You couldn't understand why he was reacting like this. You'd been happily in a relationship for almost ten years, celebrated so much together. But ever since he became a Cardinal, he'd been overworked, stretched thin by the clergy and reminded consistently that he was only second best to his eldest brother. Secondo by name, Secondo by nature, he had confided in you numerous times. He had a bitter side to him, you knew that. It had been present his entire life, a product of a neglectful childhood.

But he'd never, not once, projected that side onto you. Until becoming a Cardinal, slowly imploding on himself at the weight of the pressure put on him.

"It's one way to establish yourself, I'll give you that. Quicker than sleeping with a mere Cardinal, eh?" he chuckled, devoid of humour and instead laced with venom. Had he... really just insinuated that?

"You don't mean that."

"Do I not?" he asked, arching an eyebrow with a vile smirk. He quickly necked the drink in his hand, hissing at the burn of it down his throat that he'd come to relish more and more lately. He was soon pouring himself another.

"My job requires me on this tour. It's eight weeks, Secondo. That's all. Sister Imperator said-"

You were interrupted by a sudden smash - Secondo had thrown his half full glass against the far wall of his living space. It splintered into shards, leaving a splatter against the fading wallpaper. You felt droplets of it hit your arm, a few splinters of glass reaching too without harm. You flinched naturally anyway, both at the sudden noise and the feeling on your skin.

"I DON'T CARE WHAT IMPERATOR SAID! IF YOU LOVED ME AS YOU SAY YOU DO, YOU WOULD STAY WITH ME. BY MY SIDE. NOT HIS!" he screamed, storming towards you and grabbing your arms by your sides. You stiffened in fear - he'd never laid a hand on you before. "You say you love me, and yet, you abandon me."

"N-no... I'm not-" you were shaking in his grasp, your eyes wide and words failing you.

"If you go, I will never forgive you."

You stared at him, your reddened eyes wide with fear and desperation. You were stuck... You had to go, you had no choice. Being fired from your job would mean the end of your residency at the Ministry and you would lose everything. But go, and you lose Secondo.

He was overreacting, and you weren't sure why. Did he truly believe you were trying to sleep your way to a top seat within the clergy? Did he really think you'd run off with Primo, given the chance?

"I... I love you..." you whimpered, voice shaking and quiet as your lip trembled. His piercing monochrome eyes searched yours, waiting for you to tell him you'd stay. But you couldn't. The Ghost Project needed you, and Primo needed you. You had no choice, but he couldn't see it that way.

Without a word, he shoved you backwards, letting you stumble to keep your balance as he stepped back, picking up the open bottle of whiskey from where he'd left it.

"Just go," he snarled, taking a drink from the bottle, before storming into his bedroom and slamming the door, your body jolting from the sound as you stood and broke down on the spot.

Not going, you would lose everything. But going... you had lost him.

Those eight weeks on the road were hell - and not the Hell you had been promised.

Secondo hadn't spoken a word to you after you'd told him you were going. Your relationship was over the second he slammed that bedroom door. You spent any down time you had hiding from the world, crying into the last scrap of his clothing you had snuck from his things that still smelled like him.

You would wonder constantly what had changed in him, why suddenly he couldn't see past his bitterness and had thought so little of you. He had ignored your phone calls, your letters... He had stewed in his anger and his growing alcohol dependency, buried his sorrows in anyone who would consent, and driven himself into the ground until his younger brother, Terzo, had decided enough was enough and harshly forced him to face his reality.

But it was too late.

As soon as you had come back from your first tour with The Ghost Project, you had put a request in for a transfer to an Abbey across the country. You had been hurt too badly, the thought of having to see Secondo in the halls, leading sermons, hosting seminars had burned in your chest. Primo had tried to talk you out of it, but your mind was made up and solidified only by the look of dismissal Secondo gave you when he'd seen your face for the first time during Mass.

The grief you felt was not only for your relationship, but the man you once knew and loved so deeply. He wasn't him anymore; and you couldn't watch him live in indifference while you were so incredibly heartbroken.

Within a week of your request, you were packed up and on a bus to a much smaller, more quaint Abbey in the midwest, where you would help to lead a congregation as a Sister of elevated importance.

Over time, your wounds healed. You dated, albeit in brief stints. You devoted yourself to the church and rose in the ranks of your own volition - not because you had opened your legs to a Papa or higher ranking clergy member, as had been predicted by your former lover.

You were doing well, focussed on you and your congregation.

Secondo, however, had never been the same since you left.

As if he wasn't already an angry and bitter man, he became insufferable in the years following your departure. Sure enough, Terzo's intervention had managed to quell the alcoholism, but it had done nothing for the anger that consistently simmered at surface level at his father, his brothers, his childhood... but mostly at himself.

He'd never been able to forgive himself for the way he had treated you; the only good thing he had ever had in his life, and he managed to torture you slowly, like a child plucking the wings from a butterfly before delivering the final blow. Even when he'd seen you for the first time after the tour, he couldn't look you in the eye.

Then he'd never seen you again.

Now that Primo had told him you were coming back, your latest promotion to the highest ranking sibling beneath Sister Imperator herself bringing you back to the Ministry and the headquarters of the Satanic Church, he was petrified.

He wanted to run. He wanted to hide. Given the option, he'd abdicate from his position with immediate effect and live out the remainder of his days in a cabin in the Italian Apennines. But that wasn't an option, and he had to face this.

He had to face you.

Sister Imperator had called a meeting of the higher Clergy to welcome you back, and to explain your place in the Ministry to those you'd be working closely with. That included Papa Secondo.

Papa.

When you'd first heard that news, you couldn't help the small smile that had tugged at your lips. He'd always wanted that title, always deserved it. You were happy for him, glad to see that he was where he rightfully should be.

But when you saw him for the first time in that meeting room, sat in his chair at the head of the table, that happiness had dissipated. Fear and dread had filled you, a pain in your chest you thought you'd got over long ago. But the scowl on his face told you the feelings he had toward you were still just anger, spite, bitterness. And no matter how much time you'd had to heal, that scar still pulsated and burned in you.

You remained professional, hardened much like Imperator. You had to be. If you showed him how weak he still made you feel, your authority might be brought into question. You'd worked too hard for that.

As the meeting adjourned, the table got up to leave and you along with it, until you heard his deep and commanding voice from the end of the table.

"Sorella _______, I ask you stay for a moment."

You froze, too frightened too look back at him, too weak to tell him no. Primo and Terzo, who had both been sat on the opposite side of the table to you, shared a look that read as 'oh, shit...' before their glares fell on their brother. Secondo ignored them, shooing the rest of the clergy out of the doors.

Nobody said a word, simply leaving quickly and quietly until you were alone with Papa.

A moment of silence passed between you both; Secondo had so much he wished to say to you, so many apologies and regrets he'd practised so often in the last eight years but they all vanished when your eyes fell on his. He saw the fear in them; it reminded him of that night.

"I... It's... You look well."

That was it? That was all he could say to you?

You drew in a deep breath, allowing yourself a second of composure before clasping your hands together in front of you and masking your disappointment and hurt with a business-like demeanour.

"As do you."

"How have you been?" he asks, although it's cold and merely to fill a silence.

"Busy. Yourself?" you mimic his tone; you'd rather be anywhere but here right now.

"Troppo (me too)."

You nodded. "Congratulations. 'Papa'... what you always wanted," you forced a smile, gesturing at the robes and mitre he adorned.

"Ah, sí, sí..." he kicked at the titles at his feet, shuffling as he stared down at them awkwardly. "Sorella, I-"

"It was good to see you, Papa," his head snapped up at the use of his title, it sounding foreign and wrong coming from you. "Now if you'll excuse me..." you dismissed yourself, bowing your head to him slightly and gathering your notebook and pen before making your way out of the meeting room. Secondo stared after you, lost with his apology he'd finally found and mustered up the courage to deliver still dangling from the tip of his tongue.

Re-familiarising yourself with the Ministry's halls was hardly needed as you traipsed through them late into the evening. But that had just been an excuse...

In fact, what you were truly doing was torturing yourself with the ghosts of a past life. It was as if you could see them, plain as day; the ghostly figures of a young and fresh faced Sister of Sin with a smile that beamed so bright, and of a young Bishop, his face free of deep set wrinkles and the permanent scowl the world knew today.

They run through the halls ahead of you, hand in hand. Her laughter bounces from the stone walls as he tries to shush her, stifling his own laughs and the grin across his face. You followed them, chasing the memory through the halls.

Rounding the corner, they stop outside of a door. The young Bishop pulls the Sister close to him, tumbling back into the doorframe with a thud and another string of stifled giggles. His palm caresses her cheek, a look of pure adoration in his mismatched eyes before he leans in, pressing his lips to hers as she melts into his embrace against the door.

He reaches behind him, turning the doorknob and the two spectres disappear through the wood, the door remaining closed and leaving you alone in the empty corridor.

You kept staring after them, tears heavy and building in your waterline. Your hands trembled at your sides, a nauseous feeling settling in your stomach as you remembered so clearly the night those ghosts ran through the halls together, spending their first night alone and in each other's arms in secret.

From what you knew, he still lived in the same suite. The door you stared at still belonged to him, and the likelihood was he was in there right now.

A part of you ached to talk to him. You wanted to know what had changed him all those years ago, still craving answers to questions long since forgotten. But part of you knew it was a conversation not worth having; after all, what good would it do now?

Footsteps echoed from the opposite end of the end hall, stomping on the stone as they drew closer. You ducked behind the corner, barely peeking from your hiding spot as Secondo drew closer to his quarters, that scowl still etched onto his face when he pulled his keys from a pocket beneath his robes. Before unlocking the door, he hesitated, pressing his forehead to the wood and shutting his eyes to take a deep breath.

You allowed yourself a better view, peering out from the corner to take in the look of exhaustion, of sadness on his features as he leaned against his door. Pain seared through your chest, flashbacks of that exact expression from years ago flooding your memory, from times where the world would get on top of him and threaten to crush his shoulders with the weight they added.

You were the only thing that could comfort him then. Nothing else would work – you wondered what he did these days to ease the ache. Little did you know, nothing could.

He’d mask it well, yes, and attempt to bury it deep down beneath layers of a personality that wasn’t totally his, but the fact remained he was still just so sad beneath it all.

Secondo straightened himself up with a deep breath, and pushed the key into the door turning to unlock it. You sighed quietly to yourself and turned to leave out of sight, but Secondo stiffened, his head whipping around to the corner where he caught the back of your head as you turned. He’d heard that sigh, known who it belonged to instantly.

“________?” he asked, his voice softer than you’d have expected, like anything above a whisper would have you darting down the corridor never to be seen again.

You froze in place, aware he can now see you but unable to move. You don’t want to face him. You don’t want to run from him.

“Wait, don’t... don’t go,” he whispered; something he wishes he’d said to you the day you’d left the Ministry instead of hiding in a pit of his own self-loathing and self-pity. He thinks you’re going to run; but you can’t. You’re just... stuck.

He doesn’t know what to do, just staring at the back of your head as his heart rate raises and his breath quickens. He’s panicking; he knows that. He’d learned what a panic attack was in the days after you’d left the Ministry; like a heart attack.

You heard him behind you, the sound of his panic as words failed him. Your head whipped around to see him stood there, clutching his robes over his chest as he stared wide eyed at you. You’d never seen him like this, and it frightened you.

“S-Secondo? Are you... are you alright?” you asked, rushing to his side on instinct, yet stopping yourself just a few feet away from him with your hands outstretched. You weren’t sure if you should touch him, if you should cross the boundary that not only he, but you had put up so long ago.

“C-can’t... can’t breathe...” he panted, leaning against the stone doorway and squeezing his eyes shut.

Get him inside, make him comfortable, your inner voice told you. You looked to the side, seeing his keys still dangling in the lock and turned them for him, pushing open the door to an empty and cold apartment that sent such a wave of nostalgia through you it could have knocked you clean onto your ass. But you shook it off, reaching for Secondo’s shoulder and gently guiding him through the door.

“Sit down,” you instructed softly, reaching for the light switch behind you, your arm working on muscle memory alone. You didn’t have to think about it, no time in the current predicament. Secondo stumbled to the couch, sitting down with a thump and leaning back into the pillows while you shut the door and made your way over to the kitchen.

Reaching for the cupboard you knew had glasses in – nothing had been changed since the day you’d left – you picked one out to fill with water, then coming down to his level and kneel at his feet to remove any feel of intimidation standing before him would have brought.

“Secondo, hey...” you caught his attention, his white eye opening to look at you through his lashes. “Can you sit up for me?”

He took in a deep lungful of breath and sat himself upright, his forearms coming to rest on his knees as he hunched over. His breathing was erratic – some deep and long, some short and staccato. He was trying desperately to regain control, to not come across as weak in front of you but he feared you being in front of him was truly the reason he was so breathless.

He always did used to say you took his breath away...

“Here, drink.” You held up the glass in front of him. He stared at it for a moment, his eyes still wide and panicked. “Papa, please...”

“Don’t... D-don't call... me that...” he told you, but he didn’t sound angry. He sounded tired, mostly, between the panicked breaths. You chose not to argue for the time being.

“I’m sorry... Still, drink. It'll help,” you promised, raising the glass again.

He took it from you, gulping a third of the glass down and swallowing with a loud exhale. The irregular pattern calmed considerably, the cold of the water cooling the heat that had risen to his face and chest in his panic.

“Good... See? It helps. Now just... breathe with me, okay? Copy what I do,” you told him, taking in a deep breath and counting to four in your head as you did so. He copied you, no questions asked, no arguments; just breathing in as you did. After four, you slowly began to exhale, counting to eight this time. He copied you again, his exhale a little shaky as if his lungs were clawing at his exhale, trying desperately to hold it in.

You repeated the pattern a few times, holding eye contact the whole time. He seemed to be searching for something in your face, any hint of hatred, anger, resentment... but nothing. His panic eased when all he found was concern, and the same softness he remembered so fondly. Able to find no negativity in your expression, he could relax and give your breathing technique the room to work and calm him down.

“Mi dispiace. I... I don’t know what came over me,” he says, embarrassment and sadness in his tone. He wanted to hide again, staring down at the glass in his hands instead of at you, sitting quietly and awkwardly on your knees in front of him.

“No, it’s... fine. I’m just glad you’re alright,” you smile awkwardly, shuffling back and standing, dusting the non-existent dust from your knees. “I’ll see myself out,” you said, turning around to leave, “Just rest for the eveni-”

You stopped dead in your tracks, your eyes focussed on the wall by the front door.

The wallpaper had never been changed in all those years, the colour of the pattern worn and yet, there were small rips in the paper, tiny grooves carved into the wall and a very distinctive faded brown stain.

Your eyes zeroed in on it immediately. It wasn’t particularly large, or even that dark against the wallpaper but you couldn’t help but notice, and your chest tightened.

“Ah, I uh... have been meaning to redecorate,” Secondo chuckled from the couch behind you, with no humour at all. His tone was different to earlier that day in the meeting room; that cold indifference had vanished, as if the curtain had fallen and his mask had dropped. He was too weak to put up a front, too tired of playing the resentful scary Papa character.

You turned to look at him, a slight look of pity mixed with something akin to longing that he tried to ignore for his own sanity. It would do him no good to delude himself into thinking you might have missed him as much as he had missed you in the last eight years.

“But then... I suppose it served as a reminder,” he shrugs, averting your gaze and taking another sip of water where he sat.

“Of what?” you asked, fragility to your voice. Secondo sighed, meeting your eyes again.

“The biggest mistake I ever made.”

An uncomfortable silence settled between you, his eyes watching you closely as you shuffled in your spot.

“Do you... get panic attacks often?” you asked, trying to divert attention away from that conversation. You weren’t sure if you were ready to have that just yet, if ever. Why cut into a healed scar?

“Not anymore, but... I used to. After you left,” he said matter-of-fact, no hint of accusation at all. “It used to start as shortness of breath like this,” he waved his hand in the air to illustrate his point, “but eventually, I suppose, I had to learn to breathe without you.”

Tears welled in your waterline, and you had to look down at the toes of your boots to flush them away.

“I’m truly, so incredibly sorry, amore mio...” he whispered, willing you to look at him, to hear him finally say what he’s wanted to for years.

“W-we don’t have to... do this...” you stuttered, holding back a sob as a tear fell to the floor where you stared at your feet. Hearing him call you that again... If you weren’t careful, it would consume you. Secondo didn’t miss your tear, his chest tightening when it hit the floor.

“No, per favore... Let me say this, I need to get this out,” he begs, standing to move towards you, his hands outstretched like he wanted to take yours in them, to hold onto you as he apologised. You whipped your hands from in front of you and took several steps back.

“That’s not fair,” you scolded, “you need to get this out? What, to clear your conscience? So you can feel better?” you accused. Your anger wasn’t unwarranted, he knew that. But he could see how much what he’d done had affected you – still affected you. The guilt ate him alive. It would always eat him alive, no matter how many times he apologised.

“No, I just... I didn’t want to hurt you, I want to make it right!” he pleaded. You shook your head with a smile at his audacity.

“Make it right? Now? After eight years?” you scoffed.

“Well okay if I can’t make it right, just... bearable. Per favore, amore mio!” The nickname slipped from his lips without thought; it still felt natural to him. You were still his ‘love’ after all – you never stopped being that. But hearing it again for the second time that evening was like the venomous sting of a scorpion’s tail to your heart.

“Stop calling me that, you lost that right,” you cried, having to bite your tongue from unleashing all of your anger, all of your hurt on him.

“I... I know. Mi scusi...” he quietened his voice, looking down at his hands in shame. His shift in demeanour stunned you into silence, your chest heaving with uneven breaths as you calmed yourself from the point of near-eruption. “You should be angry at me.”

You scoffed at his audacity. “Thank you for your permission,” you spat.

“Where do we go from here?” he asked, looking up to meet your eyes finally. His looked strained, tired. Even disguised by the paint, he seemed weary and frail. “Can I say anything at all?”

You mulled it over in your mind, running in circles. Was there anything he could say? Would you listen to anything right now, or were you too riled up to care about his excuses? The younger you, the you who loved him so deeply all those years ago was dying to get the answers she craved. She reached out to you from your past life, desperate for closure, just to understand no matter what those answers were.

“You can tell me why.”

Secondo’s brow furrowed. “W-why?”

He seemed scared, like he hadn’t expected this but how could he not? What was the point in him apologising if neither he nor you knew why he was apologising, what his 'sorry’ was for?

“Yes. Tell me why. Tell me why you suddenly thought so little of me, that you genuinely believed I would try to sleep my way to the top. Tell me why you were so adamant I was choosing your brother over you. Tell me why you turned into a bitter and twisted shell of the cardinal I adored. Tell me why you chose the bottle over me when you came home at night. Tell me why you ever doubted how completely, soul-destroyingly in-fucking-love with you I was!” you screamed at him, getting louder and louder with each passing syllable and pointing an accusatory finger at him as tears of rage freely flowed down your cheeks.

“Because it was easier!” he yelled back, meeting your gaze, “It was easier than watching you leave with him! I was jealous, sí, because everybody always chose Primo. Ever since I became a Cardinal, I was told that was as far as I could go, that was it for me! Primo was the golden boy, he was Papa, he was going to find a wife, have a kid and that kid would be Papa and where would that leave me? Cast aside, again, as always! Fuck, even Terzo got more attention for his damn looks than I ever got for my hard work, my devotion!”

You shrugged and stared at him incredulously as he yelled. “Why was any of that my fault?” you screeched.

“B-because you... you were choosing him too!” his chest heaved, and for the first time ever you saw tears in his eyes too, glinting off the light of the room. “I needed you, ______. You were the only one who saw me for who I was, and you chose him too!”

You tried to protest in anger, shaking your head and taking a step towards him to defend yourself but he continued before you got the chance.

“Nihil... he always said I would never be Primo. But as Cardinal, I was expected to do everything for him. I lived in his shadow every... fucking... day. It drove me mad...” he looked up at the ceiling as he screamed through grit teeth, trying to let gravity defy the building tears, “And then Papa was to go on tour again, to bring back the Ghost project and perform for thousands of adoring followers and I was to sit here and wait for the only person I’ve ever loved to forget me and fall for him like the rest of the masses...” He was sobbing in anger now, forgetting the fight against the onslaught of waterworks and giving in to the pain he felt.

“I never... I never thought you slept with him. Not really,” he admitted. “But I was told over and over it was only a matter of time... And I believed them. So, you ask me why? Because it was easier to believe you had already fallen under his spell and remove myself from the equation, than to watch it happen while I was still by your side.”

You were stunned into silence, watching the man you believed for the last eight years had become void of emotion spill every single one he’d buried spill from him. He’d never told you any of this, not once expressed any resentment to his elder brother. And Nihil... you wanted to ring that old man’s neck.

“I just... I got lost, amore. The more I drank, the worse it got. The bigger the disappointment,” he’d stopped shouting at you, his voice strained and quiet, “You started to hate me, and I took it as proof of my suspicions that you would someday leave. And then when you did...” his voice cracked, the words sticking in his throat. He sank to sit on the edge of the couch, defeated and weak. He removed his mitre and held his head in his hands, quietly sobbing with cloudy black tears from his makeup dripping to the floor.

You stood awkwardly playing with your fingers, wiping your own tears away with the back of your hand as they fell. Your lip trembled holding back a breakdown. Now, you were beginning to understand the weight of the responsibility he’d bared back then, of the pain of his dismissal and rejection throughout his life. It still hurt you deeply that he couldn’t see past it to know you would never have chosen anyone over him – but at least you understood.

“Terzo got me clean after you left,” he said, sniffling and raising his head but still unable to look you in the eye. Instead, his gaze focussed in on the corner of the room, at where the liquor cabinet used to sit. You followed his eyes and noticed it wasn’t there anymore, now an empty corner he’d never filled with anything else. “But it took a long time. I knew what I’d done, but... I didn’t want to face it. I’ve been so angry at myself, amore. Angry at everyone, but never at you.” He looked you in the eye then, “it was never your fault.”

“No, non è vero, fottuto idiota, (no, it wasn’t, you fucking idiot,)” you seethed, taking a deep breath and shaking your head. Secondo chuckled humourlessly. Oh, how he’d missed you scolding him in Italian.

“Sí, sí... fottuto idiota,” he sighed, dragging his palms down his face and smearing his tears with his paints. He looked down at his gloves, smeared with grey stains where the white mixed with the black, and he chuckled again. “Sono un disastro, no? (I am a mess, no?)” he said, holding his hands up briefly for you to see the mess before he removed both gloves, dropping them to the couch beside him. You scoffed again, a hint of a smile tugging at your lips; but you hid it from him, looking down at your feet again. “In more ways than one, I have always been a mess. But it was never your job to clean that mess up.”

“Didn’t stop me from wanting to,” you told him. You looked up again, now that the almost-smile had faded, “I loved you more than you ever realised.”

Secondo nodded, chewing on his bottom lip. “My biggest regret is not seeing that at the time. I’ll never know love like that again...”

You tilted your head to the side in pity, scanning the man before you who looked and sounded so much more broken than you could have imagined. You had no idea this was affecting him still to this day, no clue that the angry persona you’d left behind hadn’t just created a bitter old man who’d forgotten what he was bitter at – he was, in fact, bitter and angry toward himself. He’d never forgiven himself.

But how could he? How could he ever forgive himself for what he’d put you through, for treating you like he did. He was disgusted by himself, but in true Emeritus fashion, he didn’t know how to deal with his emotions, and it spiralled out of control. This was his personality now, a figurehead to be terrified and intimidated by.

You remembered how he could be though. Those figures you followed through the halls earlier that evening, that had guided you back to Secondo’s front door just when he’d needed you; they reminded you, however painfully, that there was a time when he was happy. Both of you were so happy.

“Do you remember the first night I spent here?” you asked him after a few moments of silence, raising your arms to hug at yourself, enveloping yourself in a protective shield in case this train of thought went terribly awry and you needed your defences up.

Secondo looked up at you, his brow furrowing in confusion. You continued, giving yourself no time to back out of your train of thought, and no time for him to reply.

“Sister Imperator had almost caught us in the gardens. We were making out, behind one of the bushes when we heard her heels on the cobbles...” you laughed. Your smile was so beautiful to him still, just like all those years ago when you’d met eighteen years ago. It infected him, tugging at the corners of his own lips as he smirked and let his mind wonder back to that night.

“Sí, I had hair...” he chuckled.

“We ran... we just, ran...” you sighed, smile widening as you took a small step towards him. “You dragged me through the halls until we stopped hearing her heels.”

“The old bat could never have kept up with us.”

“No...” you laughed. “You kept shushing me, as if you weren’t the one making me laugh.”

“As much as I enjoyed your laughter, amore, you were going to blow our cover,” he teased. “I believe I had no choice but to silence you... if memory serves me.” His smile faltered as he remembered that kiss in his doorway, leading you inside his quarters for the first time, spending the night entangled in and bewitched by everything you.

What would he give to kiss you again? What would he sacrifice for a chance to hold you in his arms one more time?

Everything. Anything.

“Eighteen years passed by so quickly,” you sighed. “I always thought I would spend the rest of my years with you...”

“Sí... anche me... (yes... me too...) I took you for granted, amore mio- oh...” he caught himself, a sinking feeling in his chest, “Mi scusi... I must stop calling you that.”

Guilt settled in your stomach for the way you’d scolded him for that earlier. Truthfully, you desperately wanted him to never stop calling you that.

“You... you don’t have to... stop, I mean,” you stuttered, twiddling your fingers and avoiding his eyes. When you did look up at him through your lashes, you saw the look of confusion in his features, and the faint flicker of hope in his eyes.

“But... I thought you said-?”

“Y-yeah I did, I just... I was angry,” you shrugged, folding your arms protectively again, as if literally shielding your heart.

“Are you not angry now?” he asked gingerly, gently ‘poking the bear’ as it were.

“Yes... No... I am, but...” you stopped yourself, sighing and dropping your arms by your sides in exasperation. “I want to be. I want to be so angry at you. I want to hate you and scream at you. Hell, I’d punch you if I could but...”

He stood then, taking a step forward. “But what, amore...?” You met his eyes, biting your lip as he took another small, yet significant, step towards you. Could you say it? Were you brave enough?

“If I’m angry, it’s because I still care, isn’t it?” you asked rhetorically, “I’m angry because... because I still love you.”

Time stood still for Secondo. His heart pounded in his ears, his chest tightening at the admission that you – sweet, wonderful you – still loved him, despite the hell he had put you through.

He acted on impulse, no coherent thought process registering. Closing the distance between you, he pulled you to him by your waist, desperately pressing his lips to yours. As if you had expected it, you immediately melted in his hold, your eyes fading shut and lips encapsulating his in submission. You were tired of hating him, tired of being angry. Being honest with yourself, you had only ever wanted to be in his arms again since that night he told you to leave.

Finally, here you were.

His bare hands grasped at the fabric of your habit like he was clinging for life, dangling over a gorge only you could pull him up from. You felt much the same, your fists balled in his robes pulling him to you by his chest. Your lips fit together as they always had, moving in nostalgic synchronicity. You felt alive again, synapses in your brain firing in every which way and alighting the spark you’d let dim to nothing but an ember until now.

Secondo pressed his forehead to yours when he parted from you, his eyes remaining shut while he coped with the racing of his heart. It wasn’t until he raised one of his hands to cup your cheek that he realised your cheeks were wet with fresh tears.

“Amore...” he breathes, tickling your lips below his, “I have loved you every single day of the last eighteen years...”

You don’t bother holding back the sob that jumps from your chest – you couldn’t if you tried. Secondo’s thumb swept over your cheek, wiping away the tears as he shushed you gently. Your fists, balled so tight in his robes, had started to shake as your bottom lip did.

“I-I’m scared, Secondo... If I let you in again, I-I couldn’t... couldn’t handle losing you again,” you wept.

“No, no no no amore mio, I wouldn’t be so foolish. Not again. Per favore, credimi... ti amo (Please, believe me... I love you,” he begged.

“Sí, credo che tu, (yes, I believe you,)” you told him, your lips finding his once again and fists pulling him impossibly close to you. He huffed a sigh of relief into the kiss, his fingertips ghosting over your jawline gently despite the desperate nature of the act.

You tilted your head to reach a more comfortable angle; one where you could run your tongue along his bottom lip, begging for progression. He submitted with no hesitation, allowing entry with a low hum from deep within his ribcage. The hand around your waist squeezed at your hip as your kiss deepened to desperation.

Breathlessly you pulled apart from him. “This is where I’m supposed to be,” you told him firmly with a sob, slamming your fist to his chest, “this is home.”

“Sí, amore,” he gripped your wrist, holding your fist tightly against him, “come home to me.”

You crumbled then, your knees buckling as you wept into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, giving in to his own sobs as he held you upright. He pressed his lips to your forehead, peppering kisses across your face wherever he could reach until finally he found your lips once again.

Truly, his arms did feel like home. You hadn’t felt so complete ever since the last time he’d held you, an emptiness you’d tried to fill with work and frivolous relationships but nothing and no one could ever fill the void he’d left. Now you were home, you wouldn’t dare let go again.

You’d never kissed anybody so desperately in all your life, bruisingly desperate in fact. Your lips pressed and moulded together so hard, it was bordering on painful – yet nothing could have been more painful than the last eight years. No, you needed this. You needed him.

“Take me to bed, Secondo...” you mumbled into his lips. Secondo stilled, his hands coming to sit at your waist and pushing you back; not even half a step away from him, yet you already missed the warmth of his chest along with the rhythmic thumping of his heart.

“Amore, I don’t wish to rush you...” he spoke cautiously, his eyes scanning your face. “We don’t have to go there tonight...”

There he was; for a split second, you could have sworn you saw a glimmer of the man you’d fallen in love with eighteen years ago... His paints vanished, his deep-set wrinkles smoothing out, his hair tucked and poking out from beneath his Bishop’s biretta. That same kindness, that care and cautiousness of the night he first brought you to his quarters...

He’d said the same to you then, ever so chivalrous at all times but you knew then as you knew now – you were ready. You needed him.

Slowly, you raised your palm to his cheek, noting the strange feeling of his paint-covered skin on your fingertips. You traced the lines where the white met the black, smudged together in places where his tears had streaked down his face. It amazed you how much the years had aged him, what the stress had done to him and yet, he was just as handsome to you as the day you’d met.

“I think we’ve both waited long enough, caro,” you smiled, relishing in the way his brow softened, and his eyes glinted with happiness. He brought his hand to yours, holding it in place as he turned his head to press kisses to your palm. He laced his fingers with yours turning to the direction of his bedroom and leading the way. Once inside, Secondo took a step away from you.

“Un momento, amore. There is something I must do...” he lifted your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it, letting go before he stepped into the bathroom to the left. You could hear the faucet squeaking as he turned it, the unmistakable rush of water hitting the porcelain sink below.

In his absence, you couldn’t help the way your gaze wondered as you remembered the details around you. The furniture remained unchanged but worn slightly with age, the shine of the dark wood not as prevalent as it had been. The bookshelf in the corner was still covered in tiny knick-knacks and ornaments, some of which you had bought him. One still sat on his nightstand; a small statue of Baphomet depicted as he traditionally was. On the other nightstand – the side that used to be yours – sat the same deep green glass vase you remembered, all the shine gone as it sat empty and covered in a layer of dust.

That vase used to never sit empty, fresh flowers in it constantly. Secondo made a point of it, always replacing the flowers before they could wilt too much with different varieties all the time. He loved how it would make you smile, how you would bury your nose in the petals to smell the latest additions. Seeing it sat so sad and empty stung a little, but you understood.

So enthralled in your journey down memory lane, you didn’t notice the end to the running water next door, nor the footsteps of the man coming to stand with his chest to your back as one arm snaked around your waist, the other tilting your chin up to look back at him so he could press his lips back to yours again.

You turned in his arms, sinking into another slow and passionate kiss. When you raised your palms to his cheeks, you distinctly felt the smooth skin now void of the greasy and smeared paints. This was how you remembered him; not with the full skull paint and certainly not smeared with tears and despair. He removed his paints for that very reason.

Secondo removed your veil from your head, letting your hair fall around your face in that beautiful way he always loved. Within seconds his fingers were threading their way through your roots while his other hand held you tightly to him by your hips. It was all too easy to lose yourself to his kiss, quickly becoming more needy as time ticked by.

He made sure to move at your pace, though. It wasn’t until you started to undo his shirt buttons – his robe removed and folded in the bathroom moments ago already – that he even attempted to undo the zipper at the back of your habit. It wasn’t until you kicked off your boots that he did the same to his loafers. It wasn’t until your hands scrambled for the belt around his hips that he let it slip from your shoulders and pool at your feet. It wasn’t until he was stripped bare by your frantic hands that he allowed himself to unclasp your bra and drag it down your arms, followed by your panties that hit the floor with the rest of the hastily removed garments.

He was too frightened you would startle easily, realise what you were doing and suddenly slap yourself with the reality that you still hadn’t forgiven him, and run off feeling embarrassed and angry. He needed to give you the space to run safely, if you needed to.

But as you had already told him – you were going nowhere. He was certain of that now.

Now completely exposed to each other, there was nowhere to hide. The warmth of his bare skin under your palms sent a thrill through your body, already responding to the way his fingertips dug into the meat of your hips as he kissed you with a new fervour.

With your hands cradling his jawline, you stepped backwards, bringing him with you until you were able to sit on the edge of his bed, shuffling back while he crawled over you. It was too easy not to separate your kiss from each other, in tune with one another enough that you could move as one. You felt the pillows behind you, laying back and bringing him with you as he settled between your thighs.

Already, you could feel him pressing against your core. You ached for him, desperate to have him. It was as if there were pulses of arousal flowing through your body and accumulating at your core, where heat had begun to pool.

As much as Secondo wanted to dive in, to take you as he once had so many times, he knew this was not a moment to rush. Instead, he focussed his efforts on trailing his lips down your jawline, following the curves down your neck and collarbone as his palm kneaded at your breast opposite his mouth. Slowly, he savoured the velvet smoothness of your skin on his tongue, taking your nipple into his mouth while your back arched up into him in pleasure and anticipation.

Secondo had missed these little noises you would make. The mewls and whimpers as he brought you to the brink of desperation; he adored them. If he himself hadn’t missed you the way he did, he could spend hours working you up to release. Another time though, perhaps. If you would want another...

The hand that kneaded at your other breast snaked its way down between the two of you where his length was resting against you at the inner junction of your leg and hip. He allowed his fingertips to brush over himself only for a moment, before he dragged his middle finger through your glistening folds and circled your clit once, twice...

You gasped under him, hips chasing the high and in turn grinding into his hardness which earned a deep moan from him against your breast. He could feel you were ready for more, drifting his finger to your entrance and starting with just one as he pushed inside, feeling your warmth envelope his digit. His cock twitched against you at the feel, like a silent plea to be buried inside you. All you could do was hold him against you, an arm around his waist and one around the back of his head forcing him flush against your body.

From the way you rolled your hips against his finger that slowly but surely curled over and over inside you, Secondo knew you needed more, and so alongside his middle finger, he slid his ring finger too. The way he curled them both inside you had your eyes rolling back in your head – he always was good with his hands, and just as he could then, he could read you like an open book, reciting verses of pleasure and passion from your pages.

He began to move them inside you, readying you for him. As the seconds ticked on, his need to sheath himself inside you grew increasingly hard to ignore, his hips grinding into you from above. His lips found yours again, abandoning your breast in his frenzy to be close to you.

He overtook your senses; all you could do was see him, hear him, smell him, feel him, taste him. You decided in an instant that was all you wanted for the rest of eternity. Just him.

You needed more of him, all of him, and so you lifted your legs from the mattress, spreading your thighs wider in a way of presenting yourself to him to hopefully, finally, fill you with more than just his fingers. Secondo growled against your lips, his resolve crumbling. His hand slipped from inside you and instead came to grip the back of your thigh, pressing it back to give him the room to easily slide his member through your folds, effortlessly catching his tip on your entrance so that slowly, maddeningly, he could push himself into you.

For a moment, neither of you could focus on anything other than that feeling; of filling you, of being filled. Both of your jaws went slack, moans spilling from your lips and mingling in the millimetres between you. When Secondo was fully enveloped in your heat, his forehead met yours while he gathered some form of composure. He could feel his chest tightening, the wounds of the last eight years stitching themselves back up. He let out a sob through gritted teeth, and whilst you too were completely enthralled in the overwhelm of emotions, it was all you could do to console him in that moment.

“I-I’m here, caro. I’m right here,” you reassured him, your fingers tracing patterns across the nape of his neck. He had to take several heavy, deep breaths that puffed his cheeks up on the exhale each time before he could even bare to look you in the eye. When he did, he found nothing but love in them, your irises swimming with it.

“Ti amo, amore mio...” he repeated, his voice cracking with emotion. You smiled at him, such softness in your features as a prickle of tears glistened in your eyes.

“I love you too, caro.” You always had. You pulled him to you for another kiss, quickly falling under his spell once again. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, holding him as his hips started to sluggishly roll against yours, dragging his length through your heat achingly slow. Both of you needed to savour that feeling, one you had missed out on for so long.

As your tongues danced together, so too did your hips, meeting in the middle as the two of you picked up a comfortable pace, effortlessly working together to drag the groans and whimpers from the other.

Neither of you were under any illusion that this would last particularly long, despite dragging it out to relish it at first. But the longer you stayed banded together, the harder it was not to give in to the pleasure, to that familiar heat coiling in both of your abdomens.

Secondo squeezed the underside of your thigh as his cock twitched and kicked inside you, begging for a release he was trying too hard to stave off. Your walls fluttered around him, rippling and sending jolts of electricity through you. Your bodies worked together, keying into a frequency you had only ever been able to register together. Nothing and nobody else had ever come close to understanding either of you. It was the two of you; it was always supposed to be.

“A-ah!” you cried against his lips, squeezing your eyes shut while your body dangled over the edge of a sensational orgasm. “S-Secondo...”

“Ooh, say that again, amore. Let me hear you...” you asked, ready to let go at the sound of his name from your lips once more.

With a few more thrusts you gathered the strength you needed, opening your eyes to meet his beautifully mismatched ones and holding his cheek as you moaned his name one more time for him.

“Secondo...”

That was it for him. He couldn’t stop himself if he tried, his cock spilling inside you and his thrusts becoming erratic. You could feel him inside you, length pulsing and warmth spreading that triggered an almighty break in your body, orgasm ripping its way through you. The shouts of pleasure the two of you made together sounded like a symphony to your ears, and the both of you gripped onto each other for dear life as if this were a dream, and you might wake up at any moment.

But neither of you disappeared; no puffs of smoke, no fading into the darkness. You stayed in each other's arms, coming down form your highs and catching your breaths while the weight of the world seemed to drift from your shoulders. That baggage you’d been carrying for years, the pain and hurt... it didn’t exist in that moment.

You weren’t kidding yourself into thinking that everything was perfect, and you could instantly go back to playing happy families with Secondo; not at all. But that moment? That was perfect. It offered you a relief of your woes that you’d needed for so long. And now, instead of bottling up your emotions, the two of you could begin to heal. Really heal.

It would take a lot of work, probably some shaky moments; hell, maybe even some therapy for the both of you but for the first time in eight years, you felt peace.

Home. This was home.

A sliver of golden sunlight shifted slowly down the wall as the sun rose outside, pouring in between the curtains that hadn’t been drawn completely closed the night before. Eventually, it hit your eyes like a blindfold, waking you with a squint and a grumble as you flipped onto your other side to avoid it.

The white spots in your vision cleared after a few moments, and you found yourself staring at a bed that wasn’t yours. At least, not anymore. It once had been, shared with the love of your life.

And yet, he was nowhere to be seen, the sheets on his side wrinkled and haphazardly strewn aside. You sat up slowly, wiping the sleep from your eyes and holding the deep green sheets against your bare body. Even the bathroom door was wide open, no sign of him at all.

For a moment you almost convinced yourself last night had never happened, but even you couldn’t deny the evidence of being sat completely nude in Secondo’s bedroom. Perhaps he’d had second thoughts about what had transpired. Maybe it was too much too soon.

It wasn’t until you looked around at the room and your tired eyes fell upon your nightstand – or at least, the nightstand that was once yours – that you relaxed, a warmth spilling through your chest and raising goosebumps on your skin.

Your vase shined in the sunlight, newly polished and casting a green imprint on the wall behind it. Inside it, a fresh bouquet of queen of the night tulips with splashes of white jasmine offsetting the deep purple. You could smell the jasmine from where you sat, a favourite scent of yours.

Secondo regretted nothing of last night. He, much like you, saw that as your fresh start – as fresh as the bouquet before you. He felt the same relief as you did, the same hope for some kind of future together.

Staring at the flowers, a smile spread over your lips you couldn’t contain. Part of you knew why that vase had sat untouched and empty since your departure. Secondo bringing it back to life again the moment you came back to him was all the reassurance you needed that you were welcomed home with open arms.

“Primo will be angry when he sees the stalks in his garden,” Secondo chuckled, breaking the silence as he leaned against the doorframe looking devilishly handsome with his skull paint fresh and crisp, his black shirt tucked into his slacks and cinched with a belt. His arms were folded over his chest, sleeves rolled up to the elbow. A smirk played on his face, enjoying the look of shock in your features when your head whipped around at his sudden voice.

“You didn’t...” you scolded playfully.

“Oh, I did amore...” he smiled, pushing off from the doorframe and coming to sit on the end of the bed in front of you. “Let him be mad. He will understand in time.”

A comfortable silence settled over you as he lifted his hand to brush your bed hair from your cheek.

“You were always most beautiful like this, dolcezza,” he spoke dreamily, taking you in in the morning sun, wrapped in his sheets with messed hair and a bare face. Your eyes fluttered shut, chasing the feeling of his fingertips. You let yourself enjoy the blissful silence for a moment, but one of you had to break it eventually.

“We’ll need to work on this, Secondo. All that time... we can’t erase it in one night,” you told him, bringing your knees up to rest your arms and chin on shyly.

“Sí, sí, quite right. It’s only a start, amore. I will prove things are different, te lo prometto (I promise).”

“I don’t doubt you, my love,” you smiled, reaching out for his shirt collar and pulling him gently to meet your lips in a soft, gentle kiss to seal his promise.

A promise you knew he would fight both heaven and hell to keep.

Major thanks to @her-satanic-wiles for beta reading once again! There's no tag list for this one since this is a request from two people that got out of hand... I hope, dear anons, you enjoyed this!

#the band ghost #ghost #ghost bc #ghost band #ghost the band #ghost fanfiction #ghost fanfic #papa emeritus #papa emeritus x reader #papa emeritus ii #papa emeritus ii x reader #secondo #secondo x reader #secondo smut #papa secondo #papa secondo smut #papa ii #papa emeritus ii smut #papa emeritus smut

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