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barbieaemond · 5 months

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And I dream of a grave

Header by the lovely @ewanmitchellcrumbs 💕💕

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

Warnings: angst (!), smut, too many references to graves/burying, mentions of Blood & Cheese, miscommunication, Aemond's coping mechanism is violence and sex, in this order (good for him)

Word count: 3.8k

Author's note: the gif is self explanatory. This is a prequel to A Curse for a Curse, but can be read as a standalone. Big thank you to @irenadel for giving me the idea and being one of the most supportive souls <3

Taglist: @ladystarksneedle @arcielee @multyfangirl

MASTERLIST | English is not my first language

This is more than tempting the Gods. This is forsaking and impudently turning their backs on them.

As she sits down at the banquet, her mother’s words echo through her mind like the vexing sound of the wind on a storm’s night. It sets an unpleasant weight on her lungs, the close and yet shapeless feel of something dreadful. She’s almost grateful, looking around, to ascertain she’s not the only fool dreading this whole act.

The Dowager Queen sits at the table, barely able to contain a grimace. Queen Helaena, she is certain, has never looked so pale, her eyes so vacuous and yet so full of something unknown, elusive, smoke clouding and clearing her unnatural stare. The Hand has conveniently made himself absent. She can’t blame him. Actually, she envies him. If only she too could have been spared such a farce. But as the wife of the King’s brother, the very one they’re all supposed to celebrate tonight, she cannot do that, can she?

To cheers and the blaring of trumpets, the King enters shoulder to shoulder with his brother, tall and proud in his stride, wearing dark green velvet for such a special occasion, and such a special title.

“Do you know how they’re going to call you from now on?” the Queen Mother had asked when he came back from Storm’s end, dripping rain and mud and war.

“I do, Mother.” Aegon had answered, twisting a knife from his seat at the head of the table; she had never caught that glint of satisfaction in his eyes, not like that; it wasn’t dimmed by wine or flesh, but sharp as the blade in his hand. “A title he should be proud of.”

Pride was ever the easiest thing to wear for Aemond, the softest glove gliding on his skin, born out of a pit so deep and full of insecurities and negligence that that same endless depth had grown out of proportion in order to fill itself. To even try scratching his pride was like trying to climb the highest mountain with bare hands. She had cut her palms open to do so.

“What happened, Aemond?” she had asked once alone in their chambers.

“You know what happened.”

“What really happened?”

His good eye had pierced her as if she were made of crystal, but his jaw was too set, on the verge of breaking his own teeth if he carried on keeping the guilt, and truth, trapped inside.

“I didn’t want to.” He whispered, coming down from the peak, “I didn’t want to kill him. I only wanted—”

“Revenge? Well, you had it. Did it make you feel good? Did you bring that boy peace at last?”

It took him a lifetime to say no; a whispered sound, choked even, as if he had bitten off his tongue to get it out of that pit where he had never looked again.

He was biting his tongue in the council, the faintest clench in his jaw but here, here in the council, here in the world, he had to keep that pit buried and stand straight on the highest peak, looking up and up, never down, never back. How could he, how could he admit he had lost control. It was easier, safer, to let them think of him a monster, rather than just human.

“I salute you, brother.” The King had said, raising his cup “True blood of the dragon! We shall have a feast in your honor!" Otto had merely lowered his head in defiance, going unnoticed in the eyes of his King and grandson, drunk with power and finally free of his mother's leash, unaware that a golden noose now held him in check.

He had summoned jesters, musicians, even some dancers to coddle his brother, and raise him higher and higher. She imagined she just had to wait for the fall. Or perhaps pray to the Seven to overlook the insult, to keep a mortal up there with them for a little more. But then again, they shouldn’t ask the Gods for mercy. Someone more unforgiving, more bloodthirsty. Someone who, just as her husband and his brother and each one of their cursed dynasty, did not listen to either Gods or men.

“A toast!” the King says at one point, turning to his left. “To my brother Aemond and a long overdue justice, is it not?”

Out of courtesy and duty, she grabs her cup and raises it, but as everyone at the table sips their wine, all she tastes is contempt, and the cup hits the surface untouched. But not unseen.

“Brother, wine may cloud my judgment, but it seems to me that your beloved wife does not share the sentiment of this fine evening. I wonder why.”

She holds the King’s demanding stare with a firm one, aware of Aemond looking at her even if his eye is fixed on the table. He has ignored her for the whole night, not sparing her a single glance. Because she owns the truth, doesn’t she, and it’s a knife pointed at his back.

“May I speak my mind, your Grace?”

There’s the slightest shift in Alicent’s posture, as if she were desperately waiting for her, or anyone, to cease all of this, to say this isn’t right.

Aegon pulls a thin, lazy smile and tilts his silver head, swirling his cup. “Why, of course, Princess. My brother tells me you have a habit of doing so.”

“Did he, now?” she resists the urge to scoff; such a despicable habit for a woman in this world.

“Fret not, good sister, I’m certain he holds no grudges against you for your silver tongue.”

“Oh, I’m quite certain too, your Grace. I know for a fact that he likes it.”

A few lords can do very little to hold their snickering, Aegon himself does not hide his malicious smirk, petty at the edges. It must run in the blood.

“Careful though, you don’t want to spend too much time talking, lest you leave my poor brother without any heir! It’s been a while since you two lovebirds tied the knot, isn’t that right?”

She glances beside her, surely Aemond won’t let that slight insult pass, but he stays still and silent like a statue. She can’t quite believe what she’s witnessing. This is the same man who would call the crowned head at the table wastrel, depraved, disgrace.

So much for a disgrace, now that he fosters your pride and lies.

“I can assure you, good brother, that the talking is well outweighed by other activities that involve very few words.”

Aegon plasters a big grin on his face, yet she’s not finished. “But perhaps the Gods are sparing me the burden of bringing a child in such troubled times. A realm at war is not the best place to live in, is it not?”

“It depends on which side you’re on, Princess.”

There’s suspicion in his tone, but she just blinks at him. “My apologies, I was not aware that my loyalty to your House, and my husband’s, was to be questioned.”

“Come now. We are bound by what if not words?”

“I was under the impression that the Crown should fear his own kin more than a simple foreign girl from the West.”

At that, Helaena lets out a strange noise, something close to a wince, and silence falls all over. It is only now that Aemond undoes the stone he walled himself in and acts as he always does when he feels belittled, or worse, threatened. He shuts her out.

“I’m afraid my wife is growing tired, brother. ’Tis best for her to retire.”

She bites her tongue and turns her head. There’s no mistake in his tone, that is an order. She stares at him and he stares back, blankly, and then, just as it is expected of her, she obeys.

She goes without saying a word, aware of Aemond’s eye on her, of Aegon’s little victorious giggle. He snaps his fingers and two dancing girls flock to his brother. She knows this because she can’t resist but turning before disappearing. The girls are said to come from Lys, no less. But he’s not sparing them a single glance. His eye follows her out of the hall, and even after.

Candles almost extinguished, casting a soft glow in the bedchamber, dim but enough to make the shape of her body visible under the covers.

“I know you’re pretending to be asleep.” He says, placing his dagger and eyepatch on the nightstand.

She doesn’t bother to wait a single moment to fly her eyes open. “Was I not supposed to pretend I was tired?”

When she gets no answer, she turns to face him, finding him on his feet near the bed, undoing the buttons of his doublet. His eye is on her, though, wide, as someone ready to hunt but seeing traps everywhere.

“Did you enjoy your feast?” she asks with piqued interest. “Such a shame that I missed most of it. I was eager to watch the girls from Lys dance. How were they?”

“Enough. You should thank me for dismissing you. You were bordering on high treason.”

“Since when telling the truth is considered high treason?”

“Is that what you were going to say? The truth? To make me look like a fool in front of the whole court?”

“I was only going to say that the feast was an insult and a challenge to the Gods or any common sense. And I know that beneath all the pats on the shoulder and the endorsement on your brother’s part, you are of the same mind.” she hopes to see the barest glimpse of validation on his face, at least here, where he can leave behind his pride and admit he made a mistake. Is that what you call starting a war?

But his expression is as closed as ever, wary.

She wishes it would hurt less than it does. “Of all the people ready to betray you, how quick you are to assume I’d be the first.”

“We’re bound by words, are we not?”

“Take your brother off your mouth.” She says absentmindedly; she tries to not let it sting, but it does anyway. It is a low blow, and she knows he does not believe it. He has raised the walls, coiling like a snake, and there’s no point trying to climb and risk cracking her skull open on the ground. She will have to wait for him to come down. “Then perhaps I should consider my father’s proposal.”

She leaves the bed and grabs a letter lying open on the desk. “He wrote me this letter. That is why my mother came all the way here, apparently to see how her daughter was faring.”

Aemond eyes it with the barest twitch in his lips, then looks up into her eyes and, with a sigh, she clears her throat.

“My dearest daughter,

It is with great concern and sadness that I write you this letter.

Words have reached me about the recent events involving Storm’s End and young Prince Lucerys’ demise. My spirits are low when thinking of the fate you’re enduring. But I want you to think carefully of this: annulments are rare but possible. Even more so since you bore no heirs yet. You cannot remain married to a Kinslayer, it is the highest of sins. I only need a word from you, daughter, and I shall hastily consult with a High Septon.”

She can barely register his arm moving, only sees his hand snatching the letter out of her grip, crumpling the paper between his fingers. Nostrils flaring, eye widening, she reads insult all over his face. About time.

“Is that it, Aemond? Is that the reason you’d think I would betray you? Because I didn’t bleed on a birthing bed yet? Is that how you measure my loyalty? What of all the times I drew your bath, washed your hair, pulled the boots off your feet? What about that curtain—“ she adds, pointing to the windows “and the fact that I told the maid to keep that side always closed so the sun will not bother your eye? Do you think I did all of this because of some empty words?”

He looks as if she has just slapped him. Mistrust and bewilderment run together all over his sharp features, trying to win one another, and she waits and waits, and she begs as all the purest things must be pleaded, wordlessly.

Come down. Come down. Lay down with me. In our bed, a grave, it matters not. I'll take the shovel and do the burying.

But he stands still on his high and cursed perch, the grip on the letter loosens, his shoulders slump a little, because this, this comes so easily. Violence. It’s the other glove he wears like second skin.

“You will write to your father and tell him if I hear another word about annulments, I will have his head for treason. And as for you… you tell a living soul what you know, and you shall join the Silent Sisters. You won’t even have to vow your silence, for I shall take your sharp tongue first.”

She watches him go, standing in the middle of the room like a fool; her hands bleeding still and a plea, unheard, choking to death in her chest.

Her hands heal, stay whole for so long. She feels she cannot reach him this time, no matter how hard she tries to climb. She finds no footholds, no inlets, until she stops looking for any.

She finds she has no strength to do it anymore. They’re all dead anyway, each of them in their own way, their own burial.

The king drinks and rages and drinks and rages. Helaena rocks on herself all day long, chasing the highs and lows of her laments. Jaehaera stares at her mother with her small lips sewn, her eyes wide and the Queen Mother weeps and weeps, wondering if the little girl is watching her mother go mad with grief or yet again her twin brother’s head rolling on the ground like one of her toys.

And Aemond…she does not know where Aemond chose to bury himself. He spends the day out, trying to escape the smothering grip of the Stranger’s claws, his curse…or is it only retribution?

Sometimes he’s in the training yard, sometimes that same yard becomes theater for revenge. He kills whoever helped Blood and Cheese enter the Keep, man or woman, he doesn’t care. He tortures them, and she wants to beg him to stop, to tell him that torturing one, two, or one hundred men won’t stop guilt from torturing him.

So, he wanders restlessly, basks in small and big cruelties, until the sun sets and she’s aware, as the bed dips under his weight, that she is his own burial. He takes her at any time, in any place, be it the bed, the desk, or bent over the vanity, she cannot do anything to stop him. She doesn’t want to and yet she aches to do it. Because it’s always sudden, and harsh and hurtful when he pulls her hair, when he spares no time to stoke her desire, when he keeps her bent with her back turned and a firm hand on her neck like some kind of punishment.

It never used to be like this. It had been playful, teasing, painfully slow as if he were separating salt from water, and then fast, urgent, unraveling for two inexperienced newlyweds.

But it had never been like that. There was no joy in it. Only a duty to be fulfilled. Some twisted way to gain control, while anyone else kept slipping from his hands. Just as Vhagar slipped out of his control on that fateful night of storm.

He remembered that dark thrill pounding in his veins, the laughter gushing out of his throat like poison. He couldn’t bring himself to stop. He didn’t know whether Vhagar was fueling his fire or the other way around, perhaps both. Just a little more, he’d thought, as Arrax batted his wings frantically, desperate, mirroring his young rider, to escape the gaping jaws of the Queen of All Dragons.

That’s what he wanted. He wanted to relish in his nephew’s dread, he wanted to drink it. He wanted him alone, desperate, hopeless, just as he had been.

And then he felt it, the shift in the ancient fire pit he was riding, like a boat tipping over and there was no helm to grab onto and bring it back to land. He had sunk his own family into the bleak abyss of Daemon Targaryen’s soul.

He had come to collect, thoroughly. A son for a son, yes, but he had taken much more than Jaehaerys. He’d taken Helaena as well. Even Jaehaera.

Will she ever be able to speak again?

Will my Mother ever forgive me?

Words never spoken, stuck on his tongue and then gagged and swallowed. He cannot look down, cannot look back. He must look up and forward, like soldiers do. To the next battle, to war.

But there’s this woman. And the sight of her in his bed that makes his breath hitch and for two reasons entirely opposite to one another. The first is the most ancient one. But she’s also a thorn in his side, for she knows. She knows everything. She knows all his peaks and depths, every brick in his walls and how to dismantle them; she knows he’s strong and weak, that he’s scared and guilty and worthy of his mother’s contempt, but he cannot bear any of this in front of her.

He flees her presence during the day, only to impose himself on her for the whole night. She cannot refuse him. And he cannot have her prying and dismantling his well-crafted walls and lies, so he takes her and takes her and takes her until he works themselves up to exhaustion and she’s a rag doll in his hands. It serves the purpose, though. As long as she has his cock in her mouth, as long as he harshly pounds into her, cutting her breath from the inside, she cannot ask questions. As long as he keeps chasing his pleasure, and his rugged breaths muffle his own ears, he cannot think straight.

He's close now and it’s the second time already. The sheets are damp beneath their bodies, his back glints with sweat, damps his forehead as he thrusts inside her one more time. They’re lying on their side, but he keeps her caged against him, his arm has slipped on the mattress and under her neck to keep her still, with her back to him. With his cheek glued to hers, he croons praises in her ear, falling mindlessly from his lips but like drops in the ocean. Once, she would redden, smile blissfully, or challenge him, to go deeper, or harder, or both, but she’s a limp thing now. A mere body panting upon being fucked by another, that’s all.

This is possession. Or a desperate attempt to. Each night, he holds her as if it’s the last time and she could slip away from him at any moment, turning her back on him. She can feel it now, in the way he’s gripping her shoulder, the way his nails dig in her skin, carving into her bones: stay with me. Please. Don’t leave. Please, don’t leave.

But it’s him keeping her away, turning her own back on him.

Don’t you know, she wishes to tell him, that I won’t, ever. I won’t. No matter how cursed you are. I won’t. I won’t.

He grabs her thigh, resting it on his hip, spreading his long fingers on her skin, spreading her legs so he can find the perfect angle and picks up the pace. She shudders with every thrust, gasping with her throat dry, feeling the long bridge of his nose sinking in her cheek, his grunts growing rougher and deeper; some strange choked sound at the back of his throat.

He comes quietly, panting shallowly against the damp fabric of her nightgown. And he stays there, claw gripping her shoulder, head sunk between her neck and collarbone, and deep to the hilt buried in her.

A tear rolls down her cheek. She doesn’t know where it comes from, who she is mourning, she can’t tell these days. Perhaps she’s mourning him, who he was, who he is now and who he is forcing himself to be. She doesn’t know where the deception lies anymore. She wishes she could push it back in, prays that it goes unnoticed, swallowed along with all the others, but she should know by now, the Gods are not in her favor anymore, if they ever had been.

“Why are you crying?”

She turns her head, and her breath hitches. The gemstone glints, yes, but she’s too struck by his eye to even notice the sapphire. There’s something raw there, bare, more than his very skin now. It’s the first time she sees that look on him, torn, heavy lidded and not by pleasure.

This is the burden of grief.

She wonders if that’s the reason he’s so keen on fucking her with her back turned, so she can’t see him. Perhaps she didn’t look hard enough. She thought he had risen too high, out of her reach, of anyone’s. She thought he would never fall, not in every sense of the word.

Hence, she’s at a loss for words, slightly pulling herself up, when he slowly comes down; he curls into himself, into her lap, resting his head there like a child. No Kinslayer, no Dragon Prince, no son, no brother. No husband. Just a human, bare in the skin and soul.

Aemond wraps his hand around her knee, gently, and then tighter and tighter, shutting his eye. He’s on land now, but the room is spinning, the whole world is spinning and he doesn’t know how to stop it. He feels he started it all, he threw a spinning top and got sucked into it. And she’s the only firm thing he can hold onto.

“Do you think I’m cursed?” he whispers, the barest flutter of his long eyelashes against his cheekbone.

But she has no answer. All she has are her hands, sliding on his naked skin, through his loose hair, gently, as if touching the thinnest glass, sealing the cracks. Her palms slice open again.

“Aren’t we all?”

And I dream of a grave, deep and narrow, where we could clasp each other in our arms as with clamps, and I would hide my face in you and you would hide your face in me, and nobody would ever see us any more."

- The Castle, Franz Kafka.

2K notes · View notes

dxxdhood · 9 months

Text

convince me

pairing: wade wilson x gn!reader

summary: deadpool forced me to write smut where the two of you act out the position you see in an,,,, ahem,,, erotic video.

tags: smut (18+), fingering, penetration, slight degradation, finger sucking, dom!wade wilson, sub!reader

wc: 1.2k

“Babe, listen, the mistake we made was going to White Castle sober.”

“Excellent defense, Mr. Wilson. You ever think about switching to a career in law?”

“Can’t, my tagline doesn’t transfer across professions. Calling yourself the Lawyer with the Mouth is like saying you’re the fanfic writer who’s horny.”

He manages to make you chuckle, as usual, even though you were supposed to still be annoyed about your frankly terrible dinner. But walking back into your apartment has you less inclined to hold grudges, somehow. It’s probably the promise of cuddling up in bed together. Either that, or it’s all the hilarious nicknacks Wade keeps dropping off in your living room. The fucked-up Pikachu plush where the eyes and cheeks are swapped is particularly getting to you.

“Wait for me in bed, alright?” you say.

“Oh?” Wade waggles his non-existent eyebrows. “Is this little cutie planning something?”

“Yeah, planning to spend an hour in the bathroom,” you shake your head and fail to hold back a smile. “Find us a good movie to watch while I’m out.”

To nobody’s surprise, you both end up on a site that starts in p and ends in hub.

“Nobody can get into that position,” your inner critic bursts out of you at the best of times.

You can feel Wade smirking from where his face is tucked into your neck, cuddling you from behind. “Well, in the words of Clue 1985,” he runs a scarred hand down your waist. “Sure, they can. Let me show you.”

He nips at your neck, kissing at the sensitive skin of your jaw. You exhale, trying to calm the burning sensation building in your gut, but you struggle to stay patient when he starts sucking a bruise into your collarbone.

“Wade!” you gasp, trying and failing to stop your body from grinding your ass against him. He responds in turn, moving closer to you, his hard cock slowly rubbing against your ass.

He flips over, now perched on top of you and caging you in, arms on either side of your head as he kisses you. Every time he deepens the kiss, makes you feel like you’ll never want to come back up for air, he fucks with you by biting at your bottom lip or scratching his teeth against your gums.

You bang your fists against the mattress a few too many times, understandably annoyed with his teasing, so Wade grips both of your wrists with one hand and holds them above you, plastering them to the headboard.

The action has you moaning into his mouth, and the bottom half of your body continues to move on its own, grinding against the air now. You feel so desperate, your face heats up thinking about how much of a mess you already are for him. Wishing he would close the new gap between your bodies, you arch your back off the bed, trying to feel more of his body against yours.

He giggles, watching you wriggle around. “Hold your horses there, cutie. We’re not even at the good part yet.”

Wade brings a hand up to your face, rubbing his thumb across your cheek. You’re so thrown off by the sudden show of affection that you don't even process him slipping a rough finger into your mouth.

“Suck,” he commands. And something about Wade only using a single word when he’s usually so noisy has you whining as you circle his finger with your tongue.

His big brown eyes are glued to your lips, watching them worship his finger like he’s all you’ve ever wanted. Around the time you start bobbing up and down his finger, he slips it out of you and pats your cheek.

“Good baby, such a good slut for me,” he whispers as he slides your shorts and underwear off in one motion. He slicks up the finger and you with a small bottle of lube and carefully starts slipping into your entrance.

“What? Where’d you even–” you snap your gaze sideways to your bedside table, which is curiously unopened.

He taps the front pocket of his pants, “Never leave home without it.” Did he really always have that in his pocket? At the fucking White Castle?!

He talks as he fingers you, pressing against your walls casually as if he isn’t making you lose your mind. “You look impressed, babe. Tell me you’re not impressed.”

“Oh my god, shut up!” you groan as he reaches deeper inside you, adding another finger and stretching you further.

“As you wish,” he pumps his fingers at a faster pace, gripping your hip with one hand and bringing his face to your chest so he can lick at a nipple. A spark shoots down your spine and you can feel him chuckle as your body starts to shiver.

His fingers are pounding against your insides. You can feel yourself throbbing around him, clenching and wanting more, so he adds a third finger and fucks you at a punishing pace. You bite your own lip to keep back what was going to be an embarrassing moan, but he nips at your nipple and you let out a small shout.

Just as he finally starts reaching at that spot in you that has you seeing stars, he slips his fingers out. You're going to berate him for throwing you off just as the pleasure was building, but he already has his cock placed at your entrance, so close to sliding in.

“You ready?” he whispers, and you nod so quickly you think you may have pulled a muscle.

He releases a breathy moan as he slides all the way in you, reaching right where you need him but still stubbornly not giving it to you.

“Wade, move!” you cry. He responds by smacking your ass and pulling you into his lap. You’re seated on his thighs as he throws your legs over his shoulders, folding you in half as he starts thrusting in and out of you. The position has you feeling so much closer to him, like he has free reign to stroke every part of you.

You grip onto his shoulders and try to interlock your ankles together to help you hold onto him as he pumps his cock into you faster. Wade moans so deep it sounds like a growl and you clench around him at the sound.

“Fuck!” he cries before kissing you, harshly making out as his hips continue to piston inside you. You can feel the vibrations of his moans against your own mouth, and it’s enough to make your muscles twitch around him again.

“Shit, Wade,” you whisper. “I’m going to–”

“Yeah, babe?” he says in between kissing you. “Go, do it. Come for me.”

You rip away from his mouth and release with a moan, your entire body burning as you quiver around his cock. He leans his head into your neck and bites down on the juncture between your neck and shoulder as he comes, filling you so completely you never want him to leave.

You finally come down from your orgasm and relax in his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Wade is still panting, but he keeps kissing across your face, smiling when you reciprocate and kiss his forehead.

“You’re making every thought that passes through my head sound like an ABBA song,” he whispers, eyes closed.

“That might be the closest thing to a love confession I’ve gotten out of you.”

#wade wilson smut #deadpool smut #wade wilson x reader #deadpool x reader #wade wilson x gn! reader #gn reader #dom character #sub reader #deadpool x gn! reader #marvel smut #marvel #deadpool #wade wilson #smut

3K notes · View notes

cordeliawhohung · 9 months

Note

Whoa whoa whoa, why did you have to make mafiaunderboss!Simon sound so hot 😩😩??

Can we see what it looks like when Price’s wifey brings a friend around, and she’s nothing but heart eyes for him and vice versa? I honestly just love this au

mafiaunderboss!Simon has my whole fucking heart i have so many ideas for him it's not even funny. and you know what's even better than price's wife bringing a friend around??? being that friend she brings around..... (we truly are out here living our best y/n lives)

also, i've created a mafia!141 masterlist here <3 because i don't think i'm getting out of this phase anytime soon.

warnings: mafia!underboss!Simon x shy-ish!fem!reader, reader doesn't know simon's in a mafia lmao, sorta sexual tension, short-ish drabble

When your friend invited you over to a family dinner, you weren't sure if you should go or not. Family events always seemed more like a private and cut off thing, not something a friend should attend, and you were terrified about intruding. But when she insisted that her husband wouldn't mind, and how she would love it if you were able to meet the others, you begrudgingly accepted.

You arrived right on time wearing a cute little outfit that you hoped would keep you cool enough so that you weren't sweating all throughout dinner. Once you were led into the dining room of your friends home, you very quickly realized that this was not the type of family dinner you had expected. At first, you had thought of extended family, some brothers and sisters, maybe nieces and nephews. Instead, you saw your friend's husband, John, at the head of the table, along with three other men, none of whom looked related.

After a few quick introductions, you took your seat in between your friend and a kind, boisterous man with a mohawk who the others called Soap. Once dinner was served, conversation erupted throughout the table, and while you found yourself actively listening, you didn't add a whole lot to the conversation. Instead, you were perfectly content glancing around the table, watching the men around you curse and joke with one another.

However, there was one man who caught your eyes more than anyone else. The others called him Riley, and he was almost too large to fit comfortably in the small, wooden dining chair. You swore you heard his knees knock against the table a few times. The simple black t-shirt he wore perfectly displayed the sleeve of tattoos on his arm, and you found yourself enchanted by the way the sinewy muscles of his forearm flexed as he raised his glass to his lips. It seemed impossible to tear your eyes away from him, until you realized his dark and alluring eyes had caught you. You quickly averted your gaze just in time to miss the smirk that pulled at his lips.

Dessert was served in what you assumed was the entertainment room. There was a dartboard shoved up against the wall and a billiards table towards the side of the room, both of which looked very loved with years worth of holes and scratches. While you and your friend indulged in the mouthwatering tiramisu she had made, the boys started up a game of pool, where they played long enough for John to get either too bored or too fed up with the others. They tried to get your friend to play so that they could continue playing doubles, but she quickly declined.

"What about you?" Kyle spoke up.

It took you a moment to realize that he was speaking to you. All three men had their eyes on you, including Riley. Swallowing, you shook your head as you set your dishware on the side table next to you.

"Oh, I don't really know how to play," you excused.

"That's alright," Soap said as he tapped his pool cue on the floor. "Riley's a good teacher."

Before you knew it you were standing next to the table alongside the others, your own cue in hand. It didn't take long to realize just how better at the game they were than you as they made shot after shot, and when your turn rolled around, you swallowed hard, not exactly excited to make a fool of yourself.

Still, you conjured as much confidence as you could as you leaned over the table, trying to line the stick up with the cue ball. Yet no matter how hard you tried to steady your hands, you couldn't quite get stable enough to make a good shot.

"Here," Riley spoke up as he leaned his stick against the table.

The warmth of him engulfed you as you found your back pressed against his chest. It took everything in you not to boil alive under his touch as he moved your guiding hand into position in order to strike efficiently. His hand engulfed yours as he helped you hold onto the stick, and you attempted to ignore the way his breath fanned across your ear as he spoke.

"Steady, yeah? Strike right here in the center, angle a bit to the left," he guided.

Eventually his hands slid off of yours so you could make the shot, but your brain was too overwhelmed to fully focus. Yet you tried anyway, striking the ball just like he told you and barely pocketing one of the stripes. A quick round of whoops escaped the boys as they congratulated you on your shot, despite the fact you were on the other team. Riley went for a more tame reaction, and he rested his hand on your shoulder and gave it a tight squeeze.

"Nice shot."

Heat rose in your face at his touch, and you tried to swallow the warmth back into your stomach as you tapped your cue against the tip of your shoe. "All thanks to you, Riley."

For a moment, he was silent as he leaned over the table for his turn where thick fingers guided his cue along the table. Pudgy skin and muscles forced his shirt to tighten along his shoulders, and you stood there speechless as he hit his shot. He easily pocketed yet another ball before he straightened back up and turned his attention to you. His dark eyes, the ones that had been sneaking glances at you all night long, gave you a quick once over before he tilted his head slightly.

"It's just Simon to you, sweetheart."

i am fucking feral for this man. also, unrelated but mafia simon has a dick piercing <3

#mafia!ghost #mafia!141 #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader

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glossgojo · 30 days

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the starks (cregan, robb, jon) headcanons

cregan who loves to be soft with you, loves to look in your eyes and hold your hand when you’re fucking. he’ll kiss every inch of your body, tell you what he loves about you, praise you to high heavens even when his pace is making your head hit the wall. he worships you night and day.

cregan who can be mean when he needs to be, usually you’re testing him on purpose or plainly asking for him to be rougher, he’ll always prioritize your safety and make sure you know to stop him if he goes too far

cregan who treats you like royalty after, he knows he’s bigger and stronger than most men, in many ways ;) , but he’ll be at your beck and call after leaving bruises on your skin from how hard he clutched your waist to drive you down onto him when you tried running from his girth, or gripped your thighs as he kept them open till your third orgasm was running down his chin

robb who is almost always fast and rough, he rarely has time to spare so when he does get some time with you alone in his tent he’s making it quick and dirty

robb has you coming undone on his fingers first of course, bending you over the planning table and making sure you’re well prepared and dripping before he takes you. he’s rough and passionate, pulling your hair, maneuvering you to his will and of course you love it

robb who always makes sure you come first, unless you’re under the table sucking him off between meetings that is. even then he’ll try and coax you to give him a taste and prop you up on his desk as he makes you gush onto his tongue while he sits like the king he is between your legs

robb who loves you endlessly and will always listen to your desires, even if he wants nothing more than to fuck you both dumb, he’ll treasure the times he can look into your eyes and get lost in the love there

jon who always wants you, it’s his constant state of being, any sign from you that you need him he’ll jump at and give back tenfold. (the biggest service dom in the world fight with the wall). in the beginning of your relationship he would get hard from a look alone and you had to adjust to his insatiable sex drive.

jon who could eat you out for hours and would much rather drink from you than touch a drop of water ever again. who loves when you tug at his hair when he’s down on you, he’s instantly groaned into and getting firm. when you’re in pain, when you’re sad, when you’re angry, when you’re just bored, jon will want to distract you. fucking you deep and slow, fast and rough whatever you need

jon who sometimes can’t control himself, especially when he’s nearly lost his life, and he’s fucking into you and breeding you again, and again, and again until his eyes look more black than anything else and you’re crying from overstimulation. he’s lost count of how many times he’s come nevertheless how many times you have and he can’t scratch the itch that he has to have you forever.

cregan, robb, and jon who live and die by “wear whatever you want i can fight”

cregan, robb, and jon are by nature protective and possessive but they never let bleed into controlling you, they only want you to be safe and no one dares to try anything when they’re over your shoulder, intimidating any and everyone possible

cregan, robb, and jon who can smell other people on you, chalk it up to the wolf ancestry, and immediately get irritated that anyone would dare get close to you, they need you to smell like them or just yourself. it’s something primal they don’t even realize until you’re coming back smelling like rancid fruit, nothing like your usual scent or their own. they’re on you in moments, holding you close and rubbing against you like a feral wolf

oh my god i was possessed by a horny demon writing this in one fell swoop

#jon snow x reader #jon snow imagine #jon snow smut #hotd smut #hotd #got imagine #got smut #got fanfiction #robb stark x reader #robb stark smut #got headcanons #hotd headcanon #cregan stark #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark smut #glossgojo

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gingersxng · 7 months

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Sex Addiction

Pairing: f!reader x San

Summary: your boyfriend can’t keep his hands to himself and isn’t sorry about the consequences which follows

Genre: Smut 18+

Notes: sub!reader, rough dom!San, San has a sex addiction, San is really horny, public touching, nipple sucking, pussy eating, fingering, spanking, bruising, unprotected sex (always keep safe), cum eating, cream pie, many rounds, overstimulation

Words: 814

you were invited to a family dinner with your parents at a fancy restaurant earlier this evening but halfway through your boyfriend decided it would be appropriate to start playing with you under the table. caressing his hand on your squishy thighs and then further up your short skirt while holding a conversation with your mom. you felt your heart race and your body froze cause you were so scared someone would notice. you squeezed your thighs together locking his hand in between them to give him a warning. a deep chuckle escaped his lips. he pinched your thigh making you jolt up with a “ouch”. you threw a deadly glare at him and he honestly couldn’t care less cause all you got in return was a dirty smirk. “everything alright honey” your mom asked with a worried look on her face. “she’s been having bad cramps lately, I think I should take her home so she can get some rest” San replied squeezing your thigh.

and that’s how you ended up on your bed with your boyfriend sucking on your nipples and a hand inside your panties. “y-you really can’t restrain yourself c-can you” you moaned out trying to sound angry. San let go of your nipple and gave you a smirk sliding in two fingers inside your hole. “oh how well you know me..” he chuckled pumping his fingers faster. his actions made your back arch and eyes shut tight. this wasn’t the first time something like this had happened when you and San were out together, his sex drive was almost too much but you wouldn’t have it any other way seriously.

he pulled down your panties and rubbed your clit a few times before he dove right in. tongue gliding up and down your folds tasting your arousal. you put your hand in his hair pushing him down a bit, he groaned against your clit sending electric waves to your stomach. your moans were like angels singing in Sans ears and he could feel his cock twitch in his pants. your orgasm hit you like a train and you came all over his tongue, your body felt so heavy. San didn’t waste any time, he licked you clean and hurried to undo his pants letting his leaking aching friend out. “you don’t know how hard it is to keep my cock inside my pants when we’re out darling” his voice were deep and serious making your whole body shiver. he took his cock guiding it to your aching hole, being too excited like he used to get he didn’t give you a chance to adjust to him and you let out a whimper from the burn. he rutted into you like his life depended on it, your hands grabbing around him scratching his back. his eyes were pitch black and his bangs sticking to his sweaty forehead, San wasn’t that vocal instead he was growling and it always made your pussy clench around his cock sucking him all in. “fuck, I’m gonna cum if you keep clenching like that” “then cu- cum mmh inside me” you moaned out. he almost came just hearing you say that. he pulled out grabbing you by the waist flipping you over on your stomach. “on all fours now” he growled. with shaky legs you obeyed him.

he hit your ass cheeks very hard a few times which would leave handprints before taking hold on your hips squeezing hard while he pushed himself inside again. you felt tears rolling down your cheeks from the mixed feeling of pleasure and pain, San always used to go very rough on you when you had sex which meant you almost never had romantic and slow sex. “my beautiful sexy girl gonna get filled up good with my cum” he groaned throwing his head back. you felt your stomach twist and your mouth fell open when he put one hand on your clit and the other squeezing your ass hard while thrusting in and out. “pls S-Saaaannn!” you screamed, your legs almost gave out under you. “cum for me baby” he spanked you one more time with force and you came while letting out a loud broken moan. San pressed his hips into you and you could feel his cock twitch inside you, a big load of cum spurting into you. San pulled out watching as the cum was dripping out from your stretched hole all over your thighs, just the sight made him hard again. before you had time to rest you felt him pushing his cock in again.

“San you’re kidding…” you threw your head back to look at him. he gave you a sly smile letting out a little laugh. “when you have an addiction it’s damn hard to stop” he said bending over kissing your neck and grabbing your boobs as he started to thrust into you again.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez smut #kpop smut #ateez scenarios #san x reader #san ateez #choi san #ateez san

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justmymindandstuff · 3 months

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Dawn and Dusk - Aegon II x Sister (you)

summary: Aegon was crowned king. He has stolen the throne from your half sister and war is at your doorstep. But you don't care about any of that the second his hands wrap around your hips. For far too long you have to miss your brothers touches because his kingly duties cost all his time. This night you give into your desires.

words: 4.717

warnings: 18 (+). MDNI, Smut; incest, Targaryen Siblings doing Targaryen Siblings Stuff; Brother/ Sister; Sibling kink?, light choking, spiting, Oral (m!receiving), blow job, Oral (f!receiving), p in v sex, cheating, porn with a tiny bit of plot,Blood&Chees; mention of death, mention of murder

english is not my first language// I wrote this in a few hours so no beta or proof read // First time writing smut // no use of yn // Gif not mine

AO3.

I heard 1989 and TTPD from Taylor Swift while I wrote this (It has nothing to do with this Story I just wanted to share this little fact with you.)

Lots of love to all of you 🧡

You nod to the guard in front of your chambers and he opens the door for you. You let your gaze wander through your rooms, for a second it remain hanging at the burning candle on the night table and an exciting flattering draws through your stomach. Your skin is starting to tickle. “I will go to bed early. Please help me get dressed for bed."

You run through the corridors of the Reed Keep, the sun had already gone down and now the fakes give a little light. You're on your way to your rooms. Actually, you wanted to spend the evening with Helaena and the twins. But you and your brother Aemond are so immersed in crafting and planning battle plans for the war and how you use your dragons that you have forgotten the time. You know the kids are already asleep and you don't want to disturb or wake them up. It took a long time for the twins to finally sleep through the whole night. You can't count how many nights you spent in your sister's rooms and weighed one of the twins on your hip to get him to sleep. You're gonna make time right tomorrow morning and take them out to the gardens.

Immediately your maids are with you and begin to tie up the tight corset. You breathe out in relieve when you can finally get a reasonable breath again. The green silk of your dress slips from your body. Your maidens dress you off and then put your white night grown over your head. Your scalp is slightly scratching when the hair needles are pulled out of your hairstyle. Quick hands open your braids and brushes gently through your long blonde hair. One of the girls tries to braid your hair, but you stop her. “I want to wear my hair open tonight, I have had these tight braids for a few days now. I will get a headaches.”

She smiles at you and curtsy. "Of course, princess."

"Let me alone now, I want to go to bed."

The maids all sink into a fast curtsy before they leave your rooms.

You don't move until you hear the door fall into the lock. You quickly run over the cold stone to the door and turn the key. The lock cracks quietly as it closes. You breathe deeply and count to three in your head.

"Where have you been so long?“ Aegon's voice at your ear makes a shiver wander over your neck, and as his hands move from behind around your hips, you have to bite your lip so you don't,moan. It's been too long since he touched you.

"I made battel plans with Aemond." You answer and lean into his touch. His lips rub the skin on your neck, you can feel his body in your back, he slightly presses you against the door. You lay your hands on the wood.

"So you're letting me wait because of our brother? You're letting your king wait.“

"I didn't know you were waiting. If I had known, I would have come right away.“

"Have you not seen my sign?“

"Not until I came back."

"Anyway, you have let me wait. Because of Aemond. As a punishment, I should take you right here against the door."

Your nails scratch slightly over the wood as a spark in the middle of your body makes you shrink. You bite your lips to suppress a whirlwind. God, you're desperate. Since Aegon is king, he hardly had time for you.

"That's what you do to me if you neglect me for weeks."

You were used to having him in your bed every night and the sudden withdrawal of his touches, kisses, hands on your body, his cock in you. Gods, it's making you almost crazy. Aegon's lips stretch over your neck, his grip on your hips becomes a little stronger than he presses against you. You can feel his hardness through his pants and your thin night dress. He kisses your ear and bites slightly. "But you would like that, wouldn´t you?" His voice is dark and this time you can't suppress a quiet whimper. You press your legs together to get a little friction. Aegon swings you around and pushes your back to the door. His knee slips between your legs and you stand up again as the cloth of his pants runs over your bare cunt. Your arms lie around Aegon's neck, and you lean your forehead to his. His hands lie on your hips, his thumbs draw small circles over the thin fabric of your night-shirt. You move your hips, you desperately want more friction. Your lower abdomen compresses pleasantly as your clit rubs over his thigh. But it's not enough. "What kind of princess are you?" Aegon puts a hand on your cheek, slightly pushes your head back so that you stumble against the wood. You look at him, a smile dances around his lips and deep affection is reflected in his eyes. But as he speaks, his voice sounds rough and dark. " Humping at me like a common whore." His grip around your hip gets stronger and he pushes back your hips, so you lose contact with his thigh. You stand on your heels, try to defend yourself against his grip, and push your hips back forward. Aegon laughs quietly, pushes you back again and takes half a step back. Frustrated, you push away from the door and push him in his chest and away from you. Aegon goes half a step back and laughs at you.

“Neglect? Then it was probably another princess before whom I kneeled not even four days ago while she was sitting on the Iron Throne and came all over my face .”

Your lower abdomen contracts when you remember.

"No, it must have been me." you tell him and take a step towards him. "I missed you."

"I missed you too." he says and raises his hand and gently puts it on your cheek, his other hand finds its place at your hip and he draws you closer to himself. You put your arms around him and the next moment your lips are on each others. The kiss is as sweet as oranges from Dorne. After a short moment, you separated again. Aegon kisses your forehead and gently wipes your hair behind your ears. "I missed you, but if you don't kneel naked in front of me in five seconds, I might be looking for another princess." he's zero percent serious, and you're gonna have to smile. Then you bow down, kiss his collarbone over his shirt, and then lick his neck up to his ear.

"Everything you wish, my king." You whisper. Then you step back a step, grab the tail of your night shirt and pull it over your head. When you throw it aside, his eyes hit yours. You keep his gaze as you slowly get on your knees in front of him. He's standing right in front of you, putting a hand on your cheek as you look up to him. He nods and you quickly get your hands on his trousers . His cock jumps free. He is hard and pre cum leaks from the tip. You bow down and kiss his tip. Aegon's hand goes to your hair.

"You know I like it more when you wear braids." he says as he wipes your hair off your face. You lean into his touch, let his cock slip out of your mouth, but put your hand around him and slowly go up and down.

"You let me wait." you answer him as you lazyly pump his length. Aegon laughs quietly.

"You're going to tell me that for a long time, aren't you?“

"I will decide tomorrow ." you answer him and kiss his tip again. Aegon slightly pulls on your hair, so you have to put your head in your neck and look at it again. His other hand lies over yours around his dick.

"Are you ready?“

"Don't be a naughty princess. Open up.” You open your mouth and Aegon is slowly pushing his dick between your lips. You push your tongue down against his length and he quietly stinks up. You only got two-thirds into your mothe before you have to gag. Aegon stops his movement and retreats a bit. "You're out of practice." He says, and you look at him angrily, this was his fault too. You breathe through your nose and push forward a little bit, your scalp draws slightly as you lean against Aegon's grip in your hair, the feeling makes your lower abdomen pounce. Aegon loosens his grip a little, lets you slowly absorb his dick into your mouth. You get tears in your eyes, this time you get a little further before you retreat. Slowly you make your tongue slip over his tip. Aegon is moaning again. His hand squeezes over your cheek, then he pushes you back a bit forward on his cock, you close your lips tightly around him and try to relax your throat. You taste pre cum on your tongue and as you swallow, Aegon shakes up and his legs shake short. A curse comes out between his compressed lips. "You're doing well." You shiver as he praise you. You need two more attempts and then you've finally managed to get him whole in your throat. Your tongue continues to push against his length. Aegon pulls back a little bit, gives you a moment to breathe, lets you kiss his tip and then lick his length while you scratch your hands over his thighs. His pants are bumping around his thighs. Then he pulls himself completely out of your mouth, his hands form a pony tail with your hair.

You nod even though you know that's not enough for him. "Yes." Then you open your mouth again.

Aegon looks at you for a moment, then he pushes his hip forward. He's fucking your mouth fast and hard. Pre cum and your spit mix in your mouth and drop over your chin and on your naked breasts. It's messy, it's hard, and that's exactly what you need. You stumble around his cock, you feel your own moisture running down your legs. Aegon's legs are trembling and he's stunned as his grip in your hair gets stronger. You start scratching your tongue over his dick in your mouth again. You want him to come. You want to taste it in your mouth. You want to hear his moaning when he comes. That's why you cry when he suddenly retreats from your mouth. Your head follows him. "Please, Aegon." You whim and you aren´t suprised about the fact that your voice sounds desperate.

"What do you want, princess?“ he asks as he slowly pumps his dick in front of your face.

"Your cum in my mouth. Please, Aegon. I want to taste you. Please “

"How could I ever deny my princess a wish?" he says and pushes himself back into your mouth. Two quick strokes later, his cum floods your mouth and when you finally taste it again, you moan. You swallow as fast as you can, but it's too much. You can feel his sperm coming out of your mouth and landing on your breasts. Aegon moves his dick slowly in your mouth while a splash falls in your throat. When he's done,you lick his cock clean. Then you fall back on your heels and look up to Aegon. He takes a step back and looks you up and down. You know you have to look like a whore. Your hair falls over your shoulder and back, your nipples have set up in the cold of the chambers, and Aegon's cum runs over your naked breasts.

"You are beautiful," says Aegon with a warm smile. Then he holds hand out to you. You take it and let him pull you on your feet. Your lips meet for a kiss and he pushes his tongue into your mouth. His arm lies around your naked body and he presses you on his body. Then he separates his lips from yours. "In bed with you. I want to taste you." He says, and slaps your ass lightly. You twist your eyes, but still turn to your bed and walk the few steps through your chambers. You hear Aegon geting undressed behind you, and when you turn around and fall back on the bed, he puts his belt with his sword on the night table next to your bed. Then he follows you into bed. His warm body slips to you and pushes you deeper into the soft pillows of your bed. He kisses your lips, walks over your cheeks and over your callbone. When it arrives at your neck, he sucks up slightly and you can feel his smile on your throat before he sucks stronger again. He's gonna make sure you're wearing his mark on your neck tomorrow. In Court, you have to hide it with a high collar, but he'd know it's there, and that's enough for him.

His body slips between your legs and you gladly make room for him, spread the legs for him and push your hips towards him to get a little friction. But Aegon's pushing you back into the pillows.

"Aegon, please." You stumble.

"Not so impatient."

"I am not impatient." You insist. Aegon laughs quietly and then just keeps kissing your neck down. You' wiggle in his grip. When he pulls your nipple into his mouth and sucks slightly, while his thumb pushes over the other nipple, you bite your lips. He changes sides and repeats the game. This time too, there' comes no noise over your lips. You stay strong as his lips continue to scratch over your body and his hands slightly scratche over your sides and chase a sneeze through your whole body.

As his lips wander over the skin on your thigh and he pushes your legs further apart, your hands curl into the bed sheets under you, but your lips remain closed.

You're gonna show him that you can be patient. And stubborn, probably most of all stubborn.

But Aegon knows you, he probably knows your body better than you do. He knows exactly what you like, what you need. He studied you from the moment you gave him your maidenhood. On his six and ten nameday. He was married to your sister for almost a year then. But that didn't interest you, Aegon begged your mother to let him marry you, but the Queen remained in her disicion . You're too young and too much like Aegon. Aegon has to marry Helaena. But from the moment he first plunged into your warm cunt, nothing matters anymore. He wanted to give you as much pleasure as possible. And he had learned.

He had studied your body and your mind for nights, until he had both under control as well as he has Sunfyre under control. Until you both had the same connection to each other as to your dragons.

His hands slide over your upper body towards the center of your body, his nails scratch slightly on your skin. He lies on the abdomen between your legs, making himself comfortable on the soft sheets, while his lips continue to wander down your thigh. You can feel his lips turning to a smile.

"God, you are wet. And all this just because you sucked my dick? Maybe you're just a whore, not a princess. What do you think, sister?“

And at this point, he's got you. Your hips are rushing forward, and over your lips comes a moan that you couldn't suppress. The fact that he's calling you sister right now is causing hot desire to run through your body. It makes it all much more forbidden. A little more dirty.

"I'm your whore brother." you answer him and lift your head off the pillow to look him in the eyes. They sparkle full of desire and the next moment he bends and his tongue finally meets your cunt. He slips between your folds and you stumble together. You cramp your hands in the bed sheets while Aegon slides over your clit with targeted licks. His one hand pulls your thigh down under your butt and he lifts you slightly from the bed to his mouth. A knot is forming in your stomach and your toes are crumbling. Aegon makes you sink back on the pillows, his hand slips a little back and his finger scratches through your folds as his tongue circles around your clit. He distributes your moisture a little bit more, and pushes a finger into you. You push to him, he slips into you without any trouble.

"Fuck, princess." Aegons voice shakes, he pulls his head back a bit, his warm breath sweeps over the center of your body. "Can you take anonther one?“

"Please."

He pushes a second finger into you, he curves his fingers into you and moves slowly. His tongue starts driving familiar circles over your clit. You know exactly what he writes with his tongue. Your hand is buried in his blonde hair, the same color as your hair. You slightly scratch over his scalp and his moan lets a pleasant vibrating run through your body. He can't even get to the g in his name before you came with a loud cry. He moves his fingers gently as you ride out your orgasm. Only when you loosen your grip from his hair and take a few deep breaths he gently pulls his fingers out of you. He's kissing your thigh and you shiver slightly.

"Are you all right?“

"Yes." you answer and stretch out your hand to him. He kisses your thigh again and then rushes up to you in your arms. When you feel his hard dick in the middle of your body, you whimper. Aegon starts rubbing against your center, soaking his dick in your cum. He moans when he looks down. Then he looks back at you and at the next moment his lips lie on yours, he claims your mouth as his. You taste yourself on his tongue. Aegon continues to lay his weight on you, his hands struck him next to your head. You push against him, you want to feel him in you.

"Please Aegon."

"Not yet." He says and kisses your neck and your naked collarbone. His hips move rhythmically as he rubs his tip over your clit and slides the rest of his cock through your folds. The familiar knot in your stomach is forming again and you are rushing to your next high, but you know it won't be enough. Aegon can take you to the cliff, but it will never be enough to let you fall into the pleasure. Aegon knows that as well as you do.

He enjoys tormenting you, but two can play this game. You know how to get him to do exactly what you want. What you need. Your hands wander over his arms and shoulders. You slightly stretch along his neck, move your hips against his, adjust to his rhythm. Your hands wander along his neck and stay on his cheeks. You drag him up slightly and Aegon follows your movement until his face is right above yours. You bow down to kiss him. The kiss is gentle, slow, with an appearance of innocence. Which doesn't fit the way you rub yourself on his dick shamelessly.

He separates your lips from each other and looks you in the eyes for a moment. Then you kiss his right cheek and then his left. The next kiss goes to the place under his ear.

"Please. Fuck me. Fuck me brother." you whisper.

Aegon moans and at the next moment he sinks his cock into you with one movement. The sudden fullness within you presses the air out of your lungs and you scream. Your hands slide to his shoulders and your nails scratch over his skin. Aegon stops for a second, then he pulls back almost entirely only to push forward again firmly. At this moment, your orgasm is washing over you, your walls are flattening around Aegon's cock, and he's pressing his lips to yours, so your kiss swallow your moan.

Your orgasm was not as strong as you would have liked it, and instead of finding release in it, you feel as if there is only more desire to rise in you. At the next moment, you push your hips back towards Aegon. You can feel every vein on his dick as he slowly pushes back into you. This time he just pulls a little back and rubs his hips over your clit. Aegon push your legs a little further apart, push his hips a little deeper into you. Your walls flatter around him.

"Fuck. You're wrapping me up like a glove. Your pussy is made for me sister.”

"It belongs to you. Always Aegon. Just you." You moan under his movements. He accelerates his strokes again a little, leans back a little and lets his hands wander over your body. His hands encircle your breasts, and when he slightly swings your nipples, you press against him.

"Like I said just a whore." he says and sits a little further to bend down to you. His lips meet yours. The kiss is tongue, teeth and desire. Aegon is breathless as he let your lips free. His tongue slips over his swollen lips.

"Open up," he says, and immediately you open your mouth. He' spits in your mouth, and you swallow. Aegon kisses you again, he twists your nipples and uses your moan to let his tongue slip into your mouth. Your tongues are playing around each other, your whole body is trembling from craving. You feel like you're jumping out of pleasure every moment. But you can't nourish salvation. Aegon's hand moves to your neck, he just leans it, doesn't put any pressure on your throat, but it's enough for your middle to crumble around his cock. This time, Aegon moans in your kiss.

"I need you to come. Princess." He says between two kisses.

You're shaking your head. "I can't do it again."

"Yes. You can." His other hand moves to your clit and he begins to run fast circles as his hips also move a faster rhyme forward. You' moan and shiver. "For me, sister.“ His hand around your neck is slightly pressed, you throw your head back, so you lean into his hand. "Come on your big brother's cock like a good princess." the pressure he puts on your neck and on your clit increase again, and as he again mercilessly push his dick into you, your orgasm breaks over you like a wave. You're screaming so loud you're sure somebody heard you as your body crumbles. Aegon's pushing his dick deep into you. "You're milking my cock princess." you tremble at his words, his hand is still on your neck, even though he no longer cut off your air flow. You can feel the pleasant pulse in the middle of your body and hear your heart beating in your ears as Aegon's lips gently move over your cheek. "You did so good. So good for me.” he's whispering. Again your puls around his dick and his hip moves against yours. You're over-stimulated and trembling, your walls still polishing slightly as Aegon moves again. You're pulling in the air sharply.

"You're doing so good." he whispers and puts his forehead on yours, wet silver hair is sticking on your foreheads.

"Is that okay? Two more sister, just two more." he moves his hips again, and you're stumbling.

"Yes." you bring out. Again his hips rush forward, your legs tremble and your body reacts by itself as your hips move with him. But Aegon is pushing your hips down, pushing into you a few more times, causing you to stumble. "Please brother. Come deep in me.” you cr< and in the next second Aegon's cum flood your body. He stumbles up and lays himself down on you as his hips push his cum deeper into you with gentle strokes. Your legs sling around his body and your arms lay around his shoulders as you pull him to you. You stay in eachothers arms for a moment.

Aegon's body weight is on you and it's a little hard for you to breathe but right now you don't care. Aegon gets up a little bit and smiles at you, kissing your lips briefly.

"Are you all right?" you ask him and a sincere smile appears on his face.

“Yes, I fell good. What about you?"

"Me too," you answer. Aegon bends and kisses you again. Then he carefully pulls out of you. You whimper softly when the pleasant feeling of fullness disappears and you feel his cum running out of you and polluting the white sheets below you.

Aegon sits up and slides to the edge of the bed. You draw your legs to you, without his body heat on you you feel a cold shower. "Wait a minute," Aegon says, wiping his hair out of his face, and then stands up. He walks around the bed and picks up your nightgrown. Aegon throws it at you and you giggle. Then you quickly get into your nightgrown so you can protect yourself a little bit from the cold night air.

Aegon comes back to bed with a cup of wine in his hand. He gives it to you and you take a few sips before you give it back. Aegon empties the cup and puts it to the site.

"Will you stay with me tonight?“you ask while you lie under the blankets.

"If my Lady allows it," he replies in a tone as if he hadn't been balls deep in your cunt five minutes ago.

"I will allow it." you answer him anyway, slide a little to the side and raise the blanket for him. Aegon climbs into bed next to you and puts a arm around you. With his other hand, he pulls you to his thigh, so that you lie half over him. Immediately his hand goes under your night shirt as he draws lazy circles on your skin. Exhausted, you cuddle at his chest. Aegon's kissing your hair . You close your eyes and slowly start to fade away.

A knock on the wall will scare you and Aegon next to you has also opene his eyes again, his grip goes immediately to his sword on the night table.

"I thought I'd find you here." Aemond comes into your room through the secret passage, reflexively you pulling the blanket higher above your body. Aegon next to you takes his hand back from the grip of his sword and looks at your brother angrily.

"What do you want?“ he asks anxiously as he climbs out of bed and gathers his things.

You both know Aemond wouldn´t be here if there wasn't an emergency. You just don't know how bad it is. Aemond waits until Aegon is dressed in pants and shirt.

You look at your brother, an unpleasant feeling becomes widespread in you as his gaze goes first to you and then to Aegon.

"They killed Jaehaerys."

At his words your breath is stifled, and a fierce burning is prepared in your heart. Tears are sprinkled behind your eyes. You look at Aegon, your eyes meet. You've never seen such pain behind his eyes, and you know that your eyes reflect his.

"I have to go to Helaena," he says, and leaves your chambers with quick steps. When the door falls into the lock behind him, you wince. You look at Aemond again. The hot burning in your heart becomes even stronger and walks through your veins until you feel a burning pain in your whole body.

"Aemond." you say and your voice sounds firm and dark. "I want revenge."

"We'll burn them all. They have no chance against Vhagar and Vermithor."

You nod and set yourself up a little further in bed. "We will fly at dawn and at Dusk they will all burn."

#aegon ii #aegon targaryen #aegon ii smut #aegon targaryen smut #aegon x reader #aegon x you #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #hotd2 #hotd #team green #hotd smut #blood and cheese #hotd spoilers #hotd season 2 #house of the dragon spoilers

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mrsmikaelsxn · 1 year

Text

A Malfoy And A Potter

masterlist

pairing: draco malfoy x female potter reader

warnings: fluff, kissing

summary: you and draco have been dating in secret but the secret comes out when you two attend the yule ball together

a/n: i am so sorry i have not posted in forever, i've just been busy with school and work, and trying to catch up on my reading goal for the year! it's almost summer break so i should be posting more again :)

song: sleigh ride - the ronettes

You were currently pushed up against the wall by your boyfriend, Draco Malfoy.

His lips roam the smooth skin of your jaw and throat. Peppering you with loving kisses while you play with his hair.

Both of you are breathing heavy and he brings his lips back up to your mouth as he kisses you. You let out a satisfied hum and put your hands on his chest.

You gently push him back a bit and he looks at you. "What's wrong, love?"

"Someone is going to see us," you whisper.

"Hm, well that sucks for them," he grins and kisses you again.

You push him and laugh, "I guess you're right," you smile.

"They're going to see us when we go to the ball tomorrow night, you do know that, don't you?"

"Well of course, I know that!"

Draco pulls you into his chest and rests his head on yours, "If Potter has a problem with you and me tomorrow, I'll be more than happy to practice some hexes on him," he glides his hand along your waist.

"There will be no practicing hexes, Draco," you pick up his hand and kiss it before walking out of his embrace.

"Boring!"

"Oh, don't be such a baby," you squeeze his cheeks. "Anyway, I'll be off to dinner now, you should come too," you start walking to the great hall and he follows you like a lost puppy.

You go in and sit with Harry, Hermione, and Ron. "Hello," you smile at them.

"Hi, Y/n," Hermione smiles.

"Hey, mate," Ron says.

"Greetings," Harry salutes you. You grin and salute him back.

"So, do you all have your dates?" You ask them. You already knew about Hermione's date, of course, you two are like sisters.

"Er- not exactly," Harry replies scratching the back of his neck.

"Same here," Ron sighs and drops his head onto the table. You cover your mouth to stop your laugh when he groans in pain.

"Welp, you two got under a day left," you clasp your hands.

"What about you?" Ron asks, "I've been wondering if you finally picked someone out of the two hundred people who asked you," he says with amusement.

"Oh don't be silly, Ron, it was not two hundred people!"

"Sorry- two hundred and seven," he corrects.

You roll your eyes, but it was true. You four have literally been tallying how many people have asked you, boys and girls. "Well, yes, I have a date."

"Really? Who?" Hermione asks.

"I suppose you'll have to see tomorrow," you exclaim with a smile.

You were in your room getting ready for the ball, slightly panicking. Hermione was already dressed and now helping you. "Y/n, you don't need to be nervous," she says as she helps with your hair.

"I know but-"

"No buts. You are perfect and you dance amazingly! Your date is very lucky," she smiles.

You relax a bit and look at her through the mirror, "Hermione, have I mentioned how much I love you?"

"Yes, yes you have," she takes her wand to finish your hair. You already did your makeup with some of her assistance. She claps her hands in excitement, "I believe it's time for the dress!"

You pick up the beautiful dark green gown. You had bought Draco a matching tie when you picked the dress out.

You put the dress on and flatten out some wrinkles.

"You look stunning!" Hermione squeals.

"You mean that?"

"Of course! Now, let's head to the ball!" Hermione links her arm with yours. You two make your way to the entrance when you start to panic again. For someone as well known and popular as you, you get social anxiety often.

"You go in first, I'm scared," you bite your lip nervously.

She sighs but nods. She gives you a quick smile with a thumbs up before she heads down the stairs and goes to her date, Viktor Krum. You peak through the curtain to watch. Ron's jaw drops when he looks at her and her date. He looks angry and you could almost laugh.

After pacing for two minutes you decided to just go down. You pull the curtain and try to sneak in without being noticed. Unfortunately, things don't always go the way you want.

There were an absurd amount of gasps as you made your way down the stairs, praying to Merlin that you didn't trip in your heels. The gaping gazes of the people there making you even more nervous.

You see Draco talking with his best friend, Blaise Zabini. Draco listens to his friend talk as he waits for you to arrive. He notices his friends eyes widened as his mouth opens a bit.

He furrows his brows and looks to see everyone staring at something. He looks and his eyes land on you. He feels all the air sucked out of him. He admires you and then snaps out of his trance and makes his way over you, who was smiling at him.

He holds out his hand and you place yours in his. He leans down to your ear and whispers, "I hope you know how ethereal you look, sweetheart," he pulls back and you blush. Another round of gasps fill the room and you hear a, "WHAT?!" You look over and see Harry rushing over to you two, "I- what in Merlin's name are you doing with Malfoy?!"

"Um, he's my date," you say.

Harry's jaw drops as his head goes back between the two of you. You laugh and shake your head.

Draco pulls on your hand, "I would appreciate a dance with my girlfriend while you continue gaping," he places his hand on your lower back and walks you to where people started to dance.

"GIRLFRIEND??!!"

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luveline · 9 months

Text

kisses before dinner — steve comes home to his girls after a long day. 2k, mom!reader

Steve has a back ache twinging between his shoulders that takes his breath away as he treks the last step up to the front door. The door gets caught on the latch when he pushes it open, which is awesome, Steve’s so glad you’re being safe late at night, but deplorable in that he has wood grain etched into his jaw and no way inside.

“Girls?” He knocks the glass pane. “Anybody home?”

Everyone should be home. Your car is in the driveway, the girls’ shoes are by the wall. He pushes the door open as far as he can (not far) and weasels his face into the gap to look for you. It’s dark besides the upstairs bathroom light.

Steve calls your name a few times, but eventually comes to the realisation that you’re all asleep and he’s locked out. He closes the door and heads back to his car to scrounge the spare back door key from under his seat.

He fights through the garden gate covered in brambles to the backyard. It hasn’t been touched since summer, forgotten things left to the elements. Avery’s bike flakes with copper coloured rust against the wall. The trampoline net is tangled and fallen off of one side. There are plastic cups in the stinging nettles growing back beneath it and gummy bears swollen with water along the paving stones like some poor retelling of Hansel and Gretel. He unlocks the back door and promptly knocks over the trash can he’d left in front of it. His back whines as he cleans it away, but at least it’s warm inside.

It’s good to be home.

He shoves the toppled garbage back into the can, washes tomato sauce off of his hands in the sink, and lets himself bask in his own poorly lit company for a moment, rubbing his tired eyes. He was hoping for a welcome party. It took longer to help Robin move than they’d anticipated.

“I won’t be back for a while,” he’d said apologetically down the phone.

“Okie dokie,” you’d crooned. He didn’t need to see you to know there was a baby in your lap. “Just come home when you can, babe. And lift with your knees! I’ll put your plate in the fridge, yes? Love you.” Your voice turned to sugar. “Love you, love you, love you, honey.” You definitely weren’t talking to him at that point. Mother of my kids, he’d thought reverently, the strength of a thousand men restored for an hour or two before the fatigue truly set in and he and Robin considered leaving the rest of her furniture on her new front lawn.

He scratches his hair from his eyes with both hands. Mother of my kids, he thinks again. You’ve actually managed to keep the kitchen tidy, the only evidence of a day of play being the grape juice rings on the dining table placemats. How the fuck you’ve done it is a miracle worth marvelling. Three children, one (admittedly smaller) baby bump, and a full eighteen hours by yourself. You’re very impressive.

He decides to tell you emphatically with his face in your neck. He should shower, and he will apologise to you for subjecting you to his sweaty hair in the morning. You’ll shrug off his apology, say something sweet about for better or worse or maybe wrinkle your nose and kiss him anyways.

Steve honestly can’t find any shame about how much he likes you. Like and love can begin to diverge in a marriage, especially after kids when your duty as parents is more important than it is as partners, but you’ve yet to let him pull away, and he won’t give you a reason to. He’ll keep trying as hard as possible to be a husband you can adore. And you don’t have to do much, really. Realistically you give the majority of yourself every day to Steve and your kids, but he would cling to you if you got sick of it. He knows he would. You could turn hermit and live under the bed, and Steve would spend half his life on his stomach just looking at you.

Half trying to pull you out again. The other half getting the girls ready for school. He’s so tired he doesn’t realise that this is too many halves.

When he gets to the top of the stairs he feels like a lifetime has passed since he left that morning, bright and early at 5AM. There’d been driving, car swaps, booing at people from behind the wheel, a hundred boxes, a million trips up and down the stairs, and a suspicious washing machine recalibration. This was without the cold coke drinking, peanuts, popcorn, mistimed movie references, and the obligatory insulting of Robin’s girlfriend’s mauve chaise, of which Robin refused to participate.

Between all that, there’d been worrying, and a want for more phone calls. Promise me you’ll call me if you need anything at all, he’d said that morning, giving your face a fond caress. There’s a confidence that comes with this much love. Steve can pour every inch of his affection for you into one touch and knows you’ll soak it up like a sponge. Really. Any problems, any stress, any tantrums. Just call me. I’m ten minutes away.

You were grateful if amused, telling him he didn’t need to worry so much, and then offering him another slice of toast.

Is it weird how much I love my wife? he wonders, pushing open the bedroom door gently.

You’re actually awake! He’s shocked and a little betrayed to find you looking at him, but the betrayal fades when he notices the swelling around your eyes and your trembling arm as you hoist yourself up under Avery’s weight. He’s woken you up coming in.

“Sorry,” he mouths, frowning at your shakiness.

You manage a smile and beckon him forward. The problem is the little ladies strewn about in the way. Avery drools on your chest while Dove takes up the entirety of Steve’s side, spread into a star shape, and Bethie snores loudly by your knees. An especially aggressive one makes him laugh as he rounds the bed to your side.

“Hello,” he whispers, taking your face into a loving hand, “sorry I’m back so late.”

You smile into his palm but don’t say anything.

“You okay? Had a good day?” he asks.

You hum something nonsensical. He wipes at your cheek in the rough way you enjoy, your face bumped with every stroke of his thumb.

“Did you…” Your eyelashes flutter closed. “Did you eat?”

“Loads. Sorry. I’ll eat my dinner tomorrow.”

You wrinkle your nose. He’s been dying to see it. “Don’t bother, it wasn’t my best.”

“All dinners are your best.”

You cover his hand with yours, and then you steal it away from your cheek and kiss it all over. Steve bends down to hug you.

“Missed you,” you say at the same time. Steve laughs. “Was it a long day?” you ask.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“It was aeons,” you say. “The girls were good, mostly. Baby not so much.”

“Aw, no,” he croons softly, “what’s she been doing?”

“She won’t let me eat.”

Steve rubs the top of your arm. “I’m sorry, honey. You should’ve called me.”

“What are you gonna do, H?”

He breathes out into the side of your face. “You’re right, like always. What can I do?”

He can’t do a thing to ease your morning sickness, so… Steve ends up taking a knee on the bed beside you to hold you for a while, no rush to lay down even though he aches in strings and shouts. “I’m glad I can’t get pregnant. I’d have hundreds of your babies if I could and it would be torture.”

You laugh at his absurdity in the giggly startled way he’d been hoping for.

“Did you throw up?” he asks, pulling away enough to see your face while his hand starts the soft journey down your front to your bump. You’re about three months along and the bump came quickly. It’s cute and Steve loves it and he tries not to be weird about it but he’s weird about you.

“No, just kept churning. I made eggs for breakfast and we can’t eat them anymore.”

Steve kisses your cheek, the corner of your eye, knowing it’ll make you happy. Your smile follows swiftly after, and he kisses that with gusto. “I don’t even like eggs,” he mumbles.

“You love eggs.”

“What was it like being the stay at home mom today?” he asks.

“Hard. But fun. Avery was being really nice to me all day, did you have something to do with that?”

“Avery’s always nice.”

Your smile widens impossibly, “Yeah, but she was asking me if I wanted to sit down and if I needed a glass of water all day.”

Steve shrugs. “Doesn’t sound like something I’d do.”

“Well don’t do it again, H. She’s just a baby. She doesn’t need to worry about me.”

Steve strokes your forehead, totally in your orbit. “She’s not worrying. Are you worrying about her when you take care of her? And sometimes you need a reminder.”

You chew it over. “Okay… you’re right. You win that one, Harrington. Mostly ‘cos I’m too tired.”

Steve always wins when he gets to slide into bed next to you. You push yourself over and bunch the kids up tighter. There’s not quite enough room for him. He feels as though he’s one little legged kick from falling back out, but he doesn’t mind, wrapping an arm around you and Avery where she’s sliding off of you and onto the mattress between you both. The poor girl is in a deep sleep, dribbling from the corner of her mouth. Steve wipes it away.

“You comfortable enough?” he asks.

“I’m fine. Thank you for asking.”

He rests his head against yours on the pillows. “Missed you.”

“But you had fun, right?”

“It was great. I feel like I ran a marathon.”

“Exhausted?” you ask.

“And accomplished… You sure you’re okay? It was a long day by yourself. That stunt you pulled in the kitchen? Incredible.”

“I thought you’d like that. I told the girls you’d buy them a pony.”

“You did not.”

You laugh into his cheek. “No, I didn't, you caught me… I’m fine, really. I did miss you. It’s not nice, not seeing you. I’m used to a couple of hours, but it started feeling wrong when it was dark out, I… it’s silly but I was thinking about how horrible it would be if you never came back–”

Your pitch lifts up as Steve gasps and slaps a hand over your mouth (doesn’t slap, but covers, big hand on your lips and pressing them shut without sympathy).

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He meets your eyes, smiling hard despite the fatigue clinging to you both, and doesn’t buckle, even as you kiss his palm again. “Pregnancy brain is a scary thing.”

Your eyes turn to melting. He’s putty immediately, pulling your hand away to caress your cheek.

“Wanna be crazy in love in the morning?” he asks gently. You put your arm behind Avery’s back and smile as she snuggles into your ribs. Steve kisses your nose. “Go to sleep, honey. I can feel how tired you are. Back to normal in the morning.”

“Love you, Steve.”

“Love you, too.”

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binniesbooks · 1 month

Text

• SANDWICH

TXT 019 .F05 2024

wc 6.8k

pairings Nickjudyz!TXT x fem!reader

warnings reader was described as poor, Yeonjun and Soobin being loaded, growing alone, self relieving, oral sex (Soobin receiving), slight cum eating, squint to see some fingering, unprotected sex, breeding kink if you squint once more, pet names, degradation, boob kink for Soobin if you squint again lol, bigcock!Soobin, bigcock!Yeonjun, virgin!reader, threesome, double vaginal penetration (hit me up if I forgot something)

faye's note took me not only a week to finish this! Omg! Nevertheless, HAPPY 100 FOLLOWERS! Thank you so much guys, I love you all! 😭❤️ Please continue on supporting me and my fics. I promise to hold an event soon if we reach another milestone :> Cheers🥂!

Growing up alone, you've done everything to survive. Even when you were still a child, you worked for yourself. Doing laundry for the neighbors, helping the market vendors, walking pets—doing anything just so that you could earn a small profit.

Now that you're a college student, you've been hired by the school cafeteria due to the dean's empathy. You have a small space in the cafeteria for your small business, selling sandwiches. Every break time, lunch, and when you were vacant, you would quickly make your way to the school cafeteria to sell your products. You've been selling other foods too, like juice drinks and chips, but mainly sandwiches.

You would always wake up early in the morning to prepare everything you needed for your products.

"How much for a sandwich?" A tall, handsome man stood in front of your stall while you were busy cleaning your table.

"2 500 won, each," you smiled at the guy before you.

"I'll get two, please," he said as he pulled out his wallet.

"I'll just wrap it!" You cheerfully answered, not wanting to show how tired you are.

You're basically tired, not just today. But just tired of your whole life. Many times you tried ending it, but you always chickened out. And nothing changed. You struggle with your daily life. You can barely pay rent and your other bills. If it wasn't for the financial assistance given by the school dean and your side hustles, you surely wouldn't have been able to manage.

"Thank you! Enjoy your snack!" You cheerfully thanked the guy as you bowed down.

"Hyung! Come get your snack!" You heard the tall male call for someone over the other side of the cafeteria. Your gaze moved towards the other male. He's a little shorter than the first one. But he has a quite pretty face: pouty lips and captivating eyes. Handsome, yes.

"Yup! They're our seniors. They're also known as the Nickjudyz." You later found out from your friend that they were your seniors; they are a year older than you, and they were both scheduled to run for the presidential position on the student council for the upcoming election. Not that they wanted it, but actually, the campus dean had assigned both of them to different party lists at that. So basically, they didn't have a choice at all.

"Nickjudyz? What does that mean?" you questioned.

"You haven't heard of the animation movie Zootopia? They were the epitome of Nick the Red Fox and Judy the Rabbit," your friend explained. "Yeonjun's features were like those of a fox, and Soobin's a rabbit. Aren't they cute?" she added, giggling.

So the taller one was Soobin, and the one with sharper looks was Yeonjun, you understood now. "Nickjudyz..." you mumbled.

That night, you watched Zootopia, taking notes on the characters. And the next day, your sandwiches were Zootopia-themed. You were really waiting for the two of them to come and buy from you again.

However, luck was not on your side. When you weren't able to see them around, you felt sad. They were the reason you made your sandwiches Zootopia-themed.

You were about to close your stall when the shorter guy, Yeonjun, was running towards you. "Sandwich! Two!" he shouted with a wide grin. "Uhm, do you still have some?" He scratched the back of his head, realizing you were about to close your stall.

"I, uh, kept two pieces, actually. I thought you might come again." You hesitated at first.

"Nice! We just came out of the dean's office, and we hadn't managed to eat anything, you're a lifesaver," Yeonjun sighed in relief, pulling out his wallet from his back pocket.

After those times, you always got to sell your sandwiches to them. You even grew closer to them thanks to the short interaction you get to share with them every day. Sometimes, Soobin would be the only one to come, sometimes, it's just Yeonjun, sometimes they are both standing in front of your stall, buying themselves a sandwich. They became your regular customers.

"How about I recruit you to be my secretary on my party list? I still haven't recruited my secretary yet," Yeonjun suggests when he buys from you again one time.

You didn't know why you answered, though. It's not like you actually wanted to be a part of the student council. Maybe it was because of his pretty eyes and his cute pout. "I-i'll think about it."

He smiled and went away, skipping.

The next day, Soobin also suggested the same. "I already recruited her, Soob." Yeonjun wrapped his arms around the taller guy.

"Hyung, that's unfair!" Soobin pouted, only for Yeonjun to chuckle. "Oh! I have an idea!" he exclaimed.

"And that is?" Yeonjun looked at him, confusion written on his face.

"Why don't we let her choose from the two of us, instead?" Soobin chimed.

You froze from wiping the glass cabinet for your sandwich. "Wait, you're actually letting me choose between your party lists?" you asked, stunned at Soobin's suggestion. The two males just nodded at you.

Yes, you had built some connections with them. You can even consider it friendship, well, that's what they've said to you too. But to choose between the two of them to support, you think it's unfair. Especially since they were both good friends to you.

"Gosh, how can I? It's unfair," you groaned, Yeonjun chuckled.

"You can just think about it, but remember that if you don't choose me, you'll tear my heart apart," he pouted.

"See? That's what I'm saying! I don't want anyone of you to feel bad," you sighed, spraying Yeonjun with water from your bottle sprayer.

Soobin hummed, sipping on the canned soda in his hand. "Maybe you can choose if you got help from the both of us," he suggested.

"Come to think of it. Lately, I've been too busy with my business that I wasn't able to catch up again on some of my activities." You sat down on your chair, removing your apron. "Since you're both my seniors, how about you teach me?" you added.

"Like, tutor you or something?" Soobin said, turning over to you. You quickly nodded. "I might consider your request if you do so," you grinned.

Long story short, Soobin and Yeonjun both agreed on giving you a tutoring session.

It's been almost a week. The session went well. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just them teaching and assisting you.

You always do your sessions at the school's library or the town's public library. Anywhere but your house. You know the three of you won't fit in that small studio. Considering they are tall towers, you often tease them with this, in which they often rebut you that you're just short.

"Should we end it here today? I mean, I still have a part-time job to go for at 6," you glanced at your phone secretly—the screen broke and an old model—you don't want them to see that, at least.

Actually, they were far out of your league, even just as friends. Sometimes, you would even think about not showing up near them anymore, but guilt would always eat you up. They've been so good to you, they like to help you out at your stall sometimes when they are free.

"Say, how many side hustles do you have? I don't mean to offend you, but why do you need so many jobs?" Yeonjun, showing his little curious side, tilts his head a bit. Is he confused? Maybe. Is he mocking you? No, his eyes doesn't tell you that.

You sighed, not wanting to hide your situation anymore, not with how his curious eyes were boring holes in your face. "For weekdays, I go to school, and work at the cafeteria for some time," you paused, looking at Soobin, who was staring at you too for a while now. "At 7, I work at a convenience store down my street, and clock out at 12."

Soobin's eyes were full of concern. "Do you even have time for yourself? Time to study? Time to rest?" he shoots.

You shook your head and continued to speak, "I study for a bit, and I sleep before 2, then wake up at 6 again to prepare for my business, given that our class starts at 8 in the morning."

"Are you trying to kill yourself?" Yeonjun frowns after knowing you could barely rest.

"It does not end there yet," you chuckled. "On Saturdays and Sundays, I work at a cafe from 6–12 in the morning, work at the laundry shop from 1-4 in the afternoon, head straight here for our sessions, and catch a night of restaurant work from 6–11."

You could pick their jaws off the floor. You chuckled at their reaction. "Are you still alive? Tell me if I'm talking to a ghost..." Yeonjun hugs himself dramatically. "Hyung, don't be like that." Soobin slaps his shoulder, emitting a whine from the older man.

"I should get going now, see you on Monday!" You quickly got up to your feet and waved at them as you ran outside.

That Monday, you saw yourself working with the two males at your stall. They were the ones selling your sandwich. And since they've got the face, the reputation, and all, your sales suddenly skyrocketed. You needed to run to the nearest store near your school to buy what you needed to restock.

"Achoo!"

"That's your 99th time sneezing today, little angel," Yeonjun said, without turning to face you, still busy cleaning the glass cabinet.

"I'm okay, don't worry - Achoo!"

The next day, you were nowhere to be found. The sandwich stall was not open and no sneezes could be heard.

"Bin, I just realized... We actually have no way to contact her," Yeonjun was tapping his fingers on the cool steel table of your stall.

"I wonder what happened to her," Soobin sighed, rummaging through your stall, foolishly hoping to find some way to contact you.

"Let's go to the faculty, I have an idea," Yeonjun suggested.

"What? No, we can't disclose any information about students to other students, so no," the school administrator declined his request.

"Pleeeasseee, sir," Yeonjun begs, only to be declined again.

"Uhm, she's... She's my secretary for the election, so I need to have her information, at least," Soobin butts in.

"Your name?" The admin asked Soobin.

"Soobin. Choi Soobin, sir."

The two of them quickly ran out of the faculty as soon as they got what they needed. Quickly excusing themselves from their respective classes, claiming they have some emergency to tend to.

You woke up to the irritating ringing of your doorbell. You were not expecting any visitors today.

"Goodness, who could it be..." You stood up only to fall back down on your bed again because of dizziness. You felt the drilling pain on your head again that you had felt since last night. You shiver, pulling your jacket to yourself, yet you can feel yourself so sticky because of sweat.

"Who is--" Your eyes widened the moment you were met with two tall guys standing in front of your studio. You quickly slammed your door and leaned against it.

'What the hell are they doing here?! How did they find me? Oh my god!' You panicked, screaming inside your head.

"Angel," you heard Yeonjun whisper, "Can we come in?"

"H-how did you find where I live?" you asked. Dumb question. They could just ask around the faculty. "Dummy," you whispered to yourself, facepalming yourself.

You opened the door and peeked at them. "Hi, hehe," you awkwardly smiled at them.

"C-come in..." You opened the door wide, welcoming them to your small studio.

"We're gonna let ourselves in," Soobin mumbled, removing his shoes from the doorstep.

Their eyes were welcomed by a small bed that could barely fit two people in the corner. A small study table is beside it, stacked with books and a broken phone on top, and with a small dresser near the bed.

A single-seater dining table on the other side with some instant foods and a portable stove.

Their eyes roamed a little more. A closed door, they assumed, was the rest room, just sat near the doorstep.

"I... I don't think my place is enough to fit the three of us..." you fidgeted, sitting on your bed as your head spun again, making you shut your eyes tightly.

"You were sick after all," Soobin commented. "I'll just go out, I'll come back quickly," he said as he carefully stepped out of your place.

"So... This is where you live?" Yeonjun sat on the chair at your dining table. You meekly nodded. "All of those side hustles for this place?" he added.

You know he does not mean to offend you once again, yet you felt yourself getting embarrassed. "I barely survive... Even from those multiple part-time jobs. N-not to mention that—cough, excuse me.. I am paying loans too," you explained as you lay down on your bed, feeling your body burn up again.

Your gaze returned to Yeonjun when you heard him talk.

"Buy cough medication as well, Bin. And, oh, a few fruits too if you don't mind."

"Why are you looking for me, by the way?" you asked, pulling the blanket to cover yourself.

"We were worried, of course. How can we not? Plus, we weren't able to eat a sandwich today," he smiled, even though he knows you're not looking at him.

Yeonjun stood up. "Towels," he said.

You looked at him confused. "Huh?"

"Where are your towels?" he asked himself.

You pointed at the dresser, "Lowest part."

"I can't believe my tongue didn't taste any of your sandwiches today, angel. Do you know how much I crave for it every day?" You heard the water running in your restroom for a moment.

Yeonjun gently pats the wet towel on your forehead, wiping your face as well. He even hesitated at first to wipe your neck, shaking his head in the process.

"Don't you have any classes?"

"We do, but we excused ourselves. What can we do? We have an emergency at home," he smiled at you.

"Dummy, this ain't your home, Mr. Pouty Lips," you chuckled.

"Why not? Look, I even have a patient here at home," he says, tucking your straying hair behind your ear. His hand gently grazed your face, and you unconsciously leaned on his cool hand.

"Your hand feels cool..." you mumbled, squirming under the blanket. He then cupped your face, gently rubbing your cheek. Your eyes flutter closed as you feel relaxed beneath his touch.

"Pretty little angel." His voice was faint, even lower than a whisper.

"I'm back." Yeonjun snapped his head towards the door as Soobin closed it behind him. "How is she, hyung?"

"She fell asleep, she's burning hot, though." Yeonjun placed the towel on your forehead. "Hey Bin, you know how to make porridge, right? We should at least make her something warm."

You woke up again, but this time it was because of resounding murmurs filling up the small room.

"Hey angel, you're up?"

"You're still here?" you grunted as you tried your best to get up, receiving a helping hand from Yeonjun.

"You have to eat," Soobin says as he walks towards you with a plate with porridge in a bowl. "It's still warm, you'll feel better," he adds.

Soobin sat on the side of your bed, still holding the plate. Yeonjun stacking your pillows for you to lean on, as he ordered you to scoot back.

"Open your mouth y/n," Soobin scooped a spoonful of porridge.

"I can do it, you know," you chuckled.

"Please let me."

Soobin fed you the porridge he cooked. Yeonjun was at your table, peeling and slicing some fruits. "You should've taken care of yourself more," Yeonjun nags.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Pouty Lips," you said as you flashed a smile at him. "I don't have any choice but to work."

You have been sick many times, but no one has ever been there to take care of you. No one cooked for you but yourself. You buy medicines alone, even when you are burning up. You needed to do your chores even when you got too dizzy to stand up. "I'm grateful to you two, this is the first time I have experienced being cared for."

And that's when they realized they needed to take care of you. That's when it registered in their minds that they needed to stay beside you. You're their precious little angel, whom they needed to take care of. A fragile person who still needs someone to be their companion.

"We're heading home for now, okay? We'll be back tomorrow, please rest a lot." His once captivating eyes were now full of worry, and his pouty lips became more pouty as he talks to you.

"Go now." Your smile wasn't forced at all. It was genuine. Your heart thumps as you recall how they took care of you. You were floating on cloud nine.

Yeonjun walked outside first, and Soobin stopped midway, turning back as he quickly tracked back towards you. "If anything happens, call me... please," he handed you a small note in which you assumed was his number.

Yeonjun came back the next day early in the morning just to see Soobin cooking breakfast while you were sitting on your bed like you'd've been awake for the past few hours.

"Is this why you weren't answering your phone?" he asked.

"Sorry, hyung, y/n called me in the middle of the night. Her temperature went up," the taller man sighed.

Yeonjun sat beside you, placing his hand on your forehead. "Do you feel okay now?" he asked as he cupped your face, his face merely an inch away from yours. You nodded, but you didn't even pull back. Maybe it's because his cool hands were on your cheeks, or maybe you were just feeling too hot. You actually don't know. All you knew was that you were feeling butterflies from his touch.

You watched how his pretty lips parted, how his tongue glossed his lips.

Which is to blame? You, who maybe, have a tiny crush on him that makes you wanna kiss him? Or Yeonjun, that may or may not be, doing this on purpose while his face was way too close to yours?

You tightly shut your eyes. Were you assuming a kiss?

"Angel, food is ready," he announced, standing up from your bed.

You opened your eyes, and you watched him look at Soobin, as they seemed to talk with their eyes.

"I'm glad it's Saturday today. There's nothing else to do." Soobin stretches his feet, plopping down on your bed after eating. "I feel so sleepy," he muttered, his eyes fluttering close.

Yeonjun lay beside him, closing his eyes with a smile plastered on his face. You, on the other hand, just came out of the bathroom.

You placed your hands on both of your waists. "How am I supposed to rest now? You're hogging my bed."

Soobin pretended to snore as he let Yeonjun hide on his back, trying to hold back his snickers.

Maybe you could let them rest. It won't hurt to let them rest after receiving a lot of favors.

"I have a test this coming Thursday, I don't know if I would be able to pass the test," you sighed, poking at the watermelon slices Yeonjun placed in front of you.

It's been more than a week since you were sick. You were now invited over to their place for your tutoring session. It only occurred to you that they're not just friends, they were roommates too.

"You can do it, I know you can, you've been studying a lot," Soobin cheered, stopping for a while from writing in your notebook.

Yeonjun picked up a piece of watermelon barehanded, making it touch your lips. "How about a little gift if you pass the exam, little angel?" he suggested, "Aahh," and asked you to open your mouth at the same time to feed you.

His fingers grazed your lips a little more than expected, and he proceeded to lick his fingers with the left-over juice of the watermelon. "What do you say?" Yeonjun leans forward to you, his hands propped on the table in their living room.

You meekly nodded. No noise, just a simple nod and a lip bite that didn't escape Soobin's and Yeonjun's sight. "W-what gift though?" you asked, trying to straighten your posture.

"Soob, any suggestions?" He peered towards the taller male, only for Soobin to answer with a "Shhh, secret," and a smile.

Yeonjun chuckled, ruffling your hair. "Surprise, little angel, it's a surprise."

You were aware of their subtle advances, actually. Especially how clingy and touchy Yeonjun was. But you were just letting it slide. You don't give it plenty of attention.

But you have already admitted it to yourself. You're swooning over them. They're your good friends, though, and that's why you kept on pushing your lingering feelings back.

The session went well that day too. Not to mention that you're no longer rushing because they already asked you to drop some of your side hustles. You were hesitant at first because how are you going to pay your bills now? But you ended up listening to them and their pouty request. How could you say no? Why would you dare say no, rather?

Thursday came quickly, and taking the biology test first thing in the morning felt like walking on fire and broken glasses barefoot. You could feel the sweat dripping down your forehead and your heart thumping. You even called all the saints, gods, and goddesses you knew to help you answer the test. If looks could kill, flies would be all over your teacher's body.

The following day, your test papers were given back to you. You were too scared to open the folded piece of paper. That's why you kept it like that between the pages of your notebook. You even brought the notebook with you when you went back to your stall to sell your sandwiches.

In the midst of the crowd at lunch, you saw the two tall guys walking towards you once again. As if on cue, they waved at you the moment they met your eyes. You could clearly picture bunny ears and a foxtail over their figures as you chuckled to yourself. "Silly guys," you whispered to yourself.

Soobin was the one who noticed the notebook on the side. He was trying to fan himself with your notebook when your biology test results came flying out from your notebook.

"What's that?" Yeonjun asked as he saw Soobin opening the folded paper.

"Woah! I knew you'd ace the test y/n," he exclaimed, making you snap your head towards them with a confused look.

"Did our surprise gift make you motivated?" Yeonjun taunts, a sly smirk playing on his lips.

"T-that... I..." You were out of words. From what Yeonjun had said and from knowing you actually got a perfect score from your biology class, which you dearly hated from the start.

"It looks like we need to give here our prize, hyung," Soobin smiled. They look at each other knowingly. They know what you deserve. "Shall we head out first?"

Yeonjun and Soobin head home first, ahead of you. They said they wanted to take a stroll at the mall to buy something as your prize, and they just told you to head straight to their place tomorrow afternoon.

You were able to sleep soundly that night. Knowing that you can ace tests only if you focus on your studies. You felt proud of your achievement, given that you don't usually do well in your biology class. You even planned on making the two guys a special-made sandwich to thank them for their work. However, you were actually planning on turning down their request. You couldn't stand choosing between the two of them. You would rather back down than choose.

You were actually expecting something more of a material gift. Maybe a book, a chair, or something you could use inside your small studio. And the gift you were about to receive was the last on your list.

"Fuck princess, why are you so good," Soobin hummed while guiding your head.

"You should be more gentle, Bin. Remember, she still needs to choose who she wants to serve under," Yeonjun chuckled while caressing your dainty finger as he placed your hand on his tenting bulge.

You glanced at your hand on his bulge, and your gaze went up to his eyes. Yeonjun tilted his head, "What is it, pretty angel?"

You swore, and your stomach swirled. Little did they know, whenever they called you these names, you felt a little weaker in your knees.

How did it happen that a visit to their place would end up with you in their bedroom?

You rang the doorbell at their apartment's door, clutching onto the paper bag of the special sandwich with a wide smile on your face. Yeonjun opened the door, rubbing his eyes. He looks like he just woke up from an afternoon nap. Until you realize he's not wearing a shirt. His bare and toned body is displayed in front of you.

"Hi angel, sorry, we were asleep. A friend visited earlier and got us drunk," he apologizes. "Come in."

"Fuck, my head is spinning," he muttered to himself.

"Uhm, should I just come back next week? Do you want to rest for now?" worry and nervousness were visible on your face.

"No, please come in. You don't mind taking care of us too, right?" he smiled, picking up the bottles and cans on the table.

"Where's Soobin?"

"The room over there, do you mind waking him up? I'll just clean this." Some takeout boxes were scattered around the floor, and spilled drinks and sauces were also around.

"Soo-"

"Ahh fuck, y/n... More... You feel so good... Ahh.." You were stunned when you pushed the door open. Soobin was sitting down on the side of his bed, clutching the hem of his t-shirt up to his chest, while he gently stroked his shaft.

"C-come on pretty... I n-need more..." Soobin lolled his head back, letting go of his shirt to use his other arm to support his body as he tightly gripped the bedsheet.

"D-do you need h-help?" You actually don't know why you asked it. You should've just closed the door and pretended that you saw nothing.

Soobin peers over you, "Fuck, didn't know you're already here... Shit sorry, I need you y/n." His lower lip caught between his teeth, sweat forming on his forehead as his fringe sticks.

Like clockwork, you slowly managed to get near him.

"But... But I think you're drunk... I don't think this is right..." you chirped, trying to fight your desires with reality.

"I'm sober. I swear, fuck.. How can I not be when all I can think about was how you," he paused, pressing down on his slit, "Fuck!" He looks up at you once again, "All I can think about was h-how you m-moaned my name when you c-called me that night." He was once again reminded of how you moaned and chanted his name, calling for help, your pants, and heavy breaths when you called the night when your temperature went up.

A pinkish tint washed your face as you thought about how you did your best to call him.

You slowly knelt down between his legs, not breaking eye contact. Your hand slowly wraps around his cock as he draws back his hand.

"You're so p-pretty. I'm sorry I'm m-making you d-do this." You shook your head and flashed him a smile.

"Y-you want this?" Soobin raised your hand to stop you for a while.

"I.. that.. probably..." You weren't able to form any coherent words about how scared you are to admit you have a little crush on them.

"Please. Please tell me you w-want this t-too, If you-"

"I do. I-I do want this. No, I want you, actually... You... And Yeonjun too. Just.."

"Just?"

"It's just that, I can't admit it. You're both good friends of mine. I can't afford to lose our small friendship just because I like the both of you," you bit your lower lip as you retract your hand and place them both on your knees, preparing yourself to receive some hate comments.

"How am I supposed to hold back after knowing you want me? Oh god, you'll be the death of me..."Soobin caressed your cheeks, pulling your face closer to his length.

You look up at him, your eyes full of innocence made him curse all the non-liviing things from hell.

"W-wanna fuck your throat so bad, princess," Soobin muttered, rubbing his shaft on your cheek.

"She's so pretty, I want to ruin her." Your gaze flits toward the voice, it was Yeonjun. He was leaning on the doorframe, watching the two of you exchange a little talk.

"Fucking pretty, hyung. And smart too. She deserves a gift, right?" Yeonjun nodded with a smirk playing on his pretty face.

"She's a good and honest little angel, she deserves a good gift."

Yeonjun marched his way towards the bed. The bed dipped under his weight when he sat beside Soobin.

And this was when you found yourself in that position, between Soobin's legs and reaching for Yeonjun. The sandwich on the paper bag, long forgotten, was splayed on the floor.

You lightly rubbed your hand on Yeonjun's pants, making him hiss under his breath. Your eyes flitted to Soobin, you watched him alternate between biting his lower lip and gaping his mouth.

"I-i'm gonna... y/n, 'm close-- Fuck!" Soobin's hips stutter, stilling for a while inside your mouth. Hot liquid sliding through your tongue.

"C'mere," Soobin quickly pulled you up, crashing his lips on yours.

"Let him taste himself, pretty," Yeonjun taunts.

You lightly open your mouth, letting some of his essence slip through your lips, swallowing the remaining on your tongue. Soobin moaned in your mouth, teeth almost clashing at each other, lips swollen from biting.

Soobin pulled away, his forehead on yours, chasing his breath. "God, it tastes weird," he mumbles.

You felt a hand on your waist, it was Yeonjun's. He was guiding you to sit on his lap.

"Make me cum."

You left a peck at Soobin's lips once more before straddling Yeonjun. Not wanting to be left behind, Soobin tugged at the hem of your shirt. "Can you remove this?" he asked, eyes begging.

You quickly slip out of your shirt. A red hue paints his cheeks as he tries to reach out for the strap of your bra, snapping it open.

Yeonjun then pushed your hips down on him to feel you, making you startled. "Mmhh, feels good, fuck," he sighs. His pouty lips look so delectable as you see him gape his mouth.

Your eyes don't want to leave Soobin, giving him a few glances as he strokes himself languidly while watching you.

"Pretty, never thought you could do something like this, you're not as innocent as you look, yeah?" Yeonjun's eyes were flying towards Soobin, as if asking for some approval, as he continued to guide your hips to grind above him.

"She's dirty, hyung," Soobin chuckles.

"I-i'm not, ahh-" you tried to retaliate, only for Yeonjun to buck his hips up.

"If you're not, then why are your nipples so perky?" Yeonjun smirks, rolling your nipples between his fingers, emitting soft whines from you that made Soobin leak out once again. Of course, he was reminded once more about that night.

"Look at her grinding above you even if when you're not holding her waist, hyung," Only then did you realize that Yeonjun's hands were no longer on you. You're moving on your own accord. No guidance at all.

You felt shy as you stilled your hips, hiding behind Yeonjun's neck. Were you this desperate? Were you this dirty? Just like what they've said?

Yeonjun lifted your skirt, landing a soft spank on your ass, making you yelp at his neck. "Why'd you stop?" He then squeezed your ass as he landed another spank.

Yeonjun raised your body for a bit, only to see how wet his sweats were. It's not from him, of course. You watch the ends of his lips curl up.

"Baby, look at the mess you've made," Yeonjun coos. Soobin reaches for your skirt to unzip it. Your baby pink underwear has now turned dark because of how wet you are.

You bit your lower lip as you look at Soobin, eyes glossy, seeking help, and cheeks beet red. You wanted to cry out of embarrassment.

"Oh, look at my pretty angel, Bin, she's about to cry."

Soobin chuckles, "Don't make her cry, hyung. You're such a menace."

"Continue moving then, save your tears for later," Yeonjun remarked, letting you drop down on his lap once again.

"No, baby, I'm not guiding you. Move on your own," he added as he shook his head when you still didn't move. Oh god, the embarrassment you've been feeling ever since you've stepped inside Soobin's room.

You grab both of his shoulders as you dance above his lap.

"Fuck w-wait, that's --" Yeonjun's hand flew over his mouth to clutch on it, his head lolling back with only a single arm supporting his body.

If there's something Yeonjun considers a weakness, it's when a girl moves in a circular motion on his lap. And you hit the jackpot on your first try.

A few more moves, and he found himself convulsing underneath you. His eyes were blown up when you looked at him. He looked so fucked out. Quickly moving to his side, he also looks down at his lap. You both witnessed how the wetness of his cum stained his sweats. The gray color slowly darkened as the liquid spread out.

You were the one who initiated the kiss this time, giving his pouty lips wet kisses, to which he responded back with a weak hum while he held your face.

Soobin pulled you back over him. "Sorry y/n, can't just stay still and watch you with him." Soobin discarded his shirt on the floor.

"Stop hogging her to yourself, Bin," Yeonjun chuckled at the younger's action and words.

Soobin carefully laid you down on his bed, latching his mouth on your boob, while he gently massaged the other one.

"Move over a bit, baby, need to feel you," Yeonjun lays down on his side beside you, flipping you to turn sideways. Soobin was still sucking on your chest while he moans out his hunger for you.

The pouty guy hugs your waist, littering love bites on your neck. Leaving splotchy red marks all over your nape and shoulder.

You never thought about having an active sexual life, given that you're too busy and focused on making ends meet. Let alone having two guys at the same time.

The tall guy in front of you leaves the same thing around your cleavage while he humps on your thigh. His shaft feels heavy on your skin.

Yeonjun's hand trails down your waist to your clitoral area, rubbing in a circular motion to hear you whimper his name.

"Y-yeonjun," you whimpered under your breath.

"I'm here, focus," your hips jerked when he slowly slid his finger inside your pussy only to pull it out again.

"Bin, wanna stretch her out? I want to feel her already," he grunts. The taller male complied, he scooted up and raised your leg.

"So wet, damn," he dipped his fingers inside you, and just like Yeonjun, he quickly drew it back, giving his fingers a lick to taste you.

"She's sweet, hyung, holy shit. But as much as I want to taste you, I also want to feel you around me, y/n."

The first stretch felt like your body was being torn apart. You quickly lean your head toward Yeonjun, and your hand reaches back. Fingers tangled on his blonde hair as you give it a pull, mouth agape at how big Soobin feels inside.

"So wet 'n tight," Soobin grunts as he keeps on pushing inside you.

"H-hurts! S-soob, it h-hurts!" you cried out as you reached for him, clawing his chest.

"I'm only h-halfway inside, mmpp!" Soobin winces at the pain from your scratches and how your pussy snuggled his thick cock. He holds your face to drown your moans and cries in his mouth as he quickly pushes inside you.

He pulled away as both of you pants as if you had run a hundred miles.

"Y-you're choking me," Soobin moves a little, making you whimper once more.

"B-bin you're t-too big," you pout.

You felt something poking your entrance once, making you peer over to your back. You were met with Yeonjun's fucked-out gaze.

"Need to feel you," Yeonjun shuts his eyes as he pushes slowly.

"W-wait! I can't! Ahh! Hurts!" You thrashed around, making Soobin moan with the pressure.

"S-stay still, y/n!" Soobin hugs you closer to him, "We will all get hurt, stay still, fuck," his abs clenched with how stimulated he was. He signaled Yeonjun to continue pushing in.

Your mouth latches on Soobin's shoulder, biting on his open skin.

"Fuck!" They shouted in unison. Soobin felt the sting of your teeth sinking into his skin, but he tried to endure it. Yeonjun, on the other hand, felt how tight it was inside you.

The two males stilled for a while. Letting you get used to their sizes. Their shafts aren't a joke. Girthy. Long. Thick. Something that would definitely stretch out a tiny pussy like yours.

"'m sorry, angel, sorry..." Yeonjun whispers while he caresses your waist. Soobin planted kisses on the top of your head, your teeth are no longer sunken in his shoulder. But you felt weak between them. Your small and frail body looks like a paper stuck between two big books.

"B-bin, move. S-slowly please," you pleaded as you looked up at him.

His gaze softens as he looks at you. "Why do you have to beg so prettily? I might cum just looking at you," he says, catching his lower lip between his teeth. He then raised your leg once again and started to move slowly. His grunts, your whimpers, and the squelching sound resonate inside his room.

"Angel, who thought that selling a mere sandwich would end up with you being sandwiched between me and Soobin, hm? So fucking good," Yeonjun grunts as he starts to thrust from behind. "You're so tight, baby, fuck."

Soobin tried his very best to stay as quiet as possible, just letting small yet slutty moans, whines, and whimpers. The friction he felt from your wet pussy and Yeonjun's length at the same time was too much for him. He knows he won't last long, but he silently challenged himself not to cum yet.

"You're so greedy, princess. Look at you taking two cocks at the same time. Greedy and dirty."

"My angel is such a whore. A cock slut," Yeonjun snickers, grunting afterwards when he thrusts again.

"Tight virgin pussy."

Their words made you dizzy. Dizzy enough to unconsciously chant their names alternately. Your hands are flying everywhere, clawing and clutching anything within reach as they litter your body with a lot of red marks.

"Please please please wanna cum, please I wanna cum!"

"Oh, you're asking for permission?" Soobin questioned.

"Fuck, are you into begging, pretty?" Yeonjun grunts behind.

"P-please let me cum, I'm gonna-- please!"

You yelped when you end up squirting because of how they simultaneously thrust inside, making you feel stimulated.

"What a dirty girl, for real," Yeonjun sighs, kissing your shoulder.

"Wanna cum inside her, hyung," Soobin was gripping the plush of your thigh as he continuously thrust.

"N-no! Please! I'm not taking a p-pill!"

"Please baby, we'll take care of you, we promise," Yeonjun's hand wrapped around your neck, his thrusts becoming more sloppy.

"Please, wanna fill you. Wanna fill you so bad with my cum," Soobin's nails dug on your skin as he held your thigh tightly.

Yeonjun's grip on your neck made your mind cloudy, and you nodded at whatever they were saying. Not sure about what you were agreeing to.

"H-hold it, Bin, i-i'm close too."

You were a moaning mess. Dizzy, mind hazy, eyes cloudy. Your body was limping as you felt hot liquid spurting inside you, along with guttural moans and deep grunts coming from the two males.

"Sorry," you heard them apologize and slowly pull out before your eyes flutter.

Maybe this gift could be the best thing you ever receive in your entire life.

And a cleanly wrapped small box was sitting on the edge of Soobin's table.

@binniesbooks 2024

taglist: @babymochibeargyu @beomiracles @lizibizi @inkigayocamman @izzyy-stuff (tagging sum of my fave moots and friends 😖💞)

490 notes · View notes

byexbyez · 16 days

Text

love me more | leon kennedy x f!reader

pairing: re4r!leon kennedy x f!reader

summary:

“C’mon, it’ll be convenient.”

You hate that word. You hate that word with your whole being. Back then, it meant something entirely different when he said it. We can get to know each other, then we can get married. It doesn’t have to be a big deal. It’ll be convenient. Convenient is why you married him. Convenient is why you are here now.

word count: 19k

warnings: 18+ towards the end, angst, yearning, marriage of convenience but there isn't a tangible convenience, strangers to spouses dynamic, grief/mourning, depictions of depression and low self-esteem, also trauma and anxiety, family issues, kinda touch-starved leon if you squint, domestic fluff if you try hard enough, non-linear and vague timeline, mentions of canon typical violence, alcohol and cigarette consumption, p in v smut, brief alternation of POVs, ada wong mention, suicidal thoughts, minor original character, minor character death, spoilers to the hunchback of notre dame, no use of y/n

notes: meant to post this on tumblr after i was done with it but that never happened so here, have it. took me 16 months to post it here lmao. english is not my first language. you have been warned. also beware of a whole lot of mitski and hozier references. enjoy!

-> read on ao3

>> read PART II.

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And I am the idiot with the painted face In the corner, taking up space But when he walks in, I am loved, I am loved

Me and my husband We're doing better

—Me and My Husband, Mitski

It’s quiet. It has always been that way from the start. Your husband is late, which is not unusual. You sit in the somber light coming from your living room TV. You don’t like the overhead lights, which explains the abundance of lamps around the living room and bedroom in your home. Your husband found it strange that you never turned on the actual lights but it didn’t take him long to realize that you were right. Any kind of overhead light was annoying to him now. He blamed you for his headaches at work.

No matter how many times you told him that he could turn on the overhead lights he insisted that he did not like them anymore. “I like it like this,” he had said. “You’re right, it’s cozier this way.” His head was on your knee, his eyes were closed. He looked so peaceful. You wanted to brush his hair away from his face and maybe scratch a bit as if he was a cat. But you didn’t, you had no idea what he would react like to such an intimate gesture. You turned your gaze away from his peaceful sleeping face to the TV you had been watching on low volume before he stepped through your home’s front door.

It was a fucking joke, really. Thinking twice, three times about touching the man that you call your husband.

You hear his keys jumble from the door. He didn’t tell you what time he would be home, so you didn’t prepare anything for dinner. It’s late anyways. You consider closing your eyes and resting your head on the back of the couch but it hasn’t been long since he told you he could tell when you were not sleeping. You thought about the number of times you pretended and he could tell. Embarrassing. Now that your secret was out, you had to greet him awkwardly.

He calls your name. “Are you asleep?” His voice very faint.

“No,” you answer while untucking your legs from under your butt. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He places the keys on the keyholder. “No lights?”

You reach to your side and turn on one lamp. “I didn’t realize the sun had set.”

“It’s past eleven.” Now that the lamp was on you could see his worried eyes. His five o’clock shadow prominent. “Did you eat anything?” he asks. You can’t tell if he hopes you did or not.

The moment you see the plastic bag in his hand, you shake your head no. Honestly, you were hungry because it had been hours since you ate a bowl of cereal as dinner.

He steps over your legs instead of pushing the coffee table away to make room for himself and plops next to you on the couch. “Brought Chinese,” he says and places the food bag on your lap instead of the coffee table. “You like their fried dumplings.”

You aren’t surprised that he remembers it. He was nice like that, maybe he thinks this is the least he can do. Soon after the wedding, he realized you did not enjoy cooking. It has never been a problem, he knew his way around the kitchen and knew of really good takeout places.

“Thank you,” you say softly while leaning on the table to place the noodles and the dumplings. “Leon, did you drink?” you ask when you catch a whiff of him.

“Yeah, I’m a little tipsy.”

That explains his lax attitude. He has his arm around you across the back of the couch, he’s sitting close to you. It’s because he wants to eat, you say to yourself. And he’s a little tipsy.

“Did you have fun?” you ask when you separate your chopsticks.

“I wasn’t with anyone,” he says, watching you separate his chopsticks for him. “I had a drink by myself.”

“Only one?” you chuckle.

“One or two,” He cocks his head to your direction and grabs the chopsticks from your fingers. His fingertips are warm.

Unlike you, his body always runs hot. You remember the comment he made when he held your hand and cupped one cheek, kissing you after you two had said “I do”. His breath was hot on the lower part of your face. You somehow felt him everywhere and nowhere at once. “It’s really hot, why are your hands cold?” he had whispered. It was unusually hot on the day you eloped. Leon had to dab his sweat away so often.

“I’m just nervous,” you had whispered back. The hand that he was not holding was trembling, surely, he could tell.

“No need to be.” That was what he said right before your first kiss. It was more of a short peck because he was a gentleman who didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

It was easier for him to say, he didn’t have anything to be nervous about. He looked really beautiful that day and it didn’t help your nerves one bit. You felt like you were committing a crime while signing your documents that sealed the fact that you were now married to Leon Kennedy. You wonder if he felt the same, knowing this marriage was not a real one.

You didn’t lie to anyone really, so why did it feel like you did? You never told anyone you were in love. You never told anyone this was legit. You just told your sister you were married and that Leon was a good man. She had shrieked over the phone, demanded that you quit joking. The moment she was convinced that you were not, she expected pictures of him. The only picture you had of him was from the day you eloped. He had taken your cold hand and placed it on his arm. His other hand on his stomach so he didn’t look awkward. You had raised your small bouquet of baby’s breath to your torso as well. You did not look as nervous as you thought when the photo came in the mail but Leon looked more handsome than you remembered. You emailed it to your sister.

It didn’t take long for her to respond. How the hell did you bag that man??? Do you have blackmail material against him?

We met at work, you replied shortly.

I thought you worked with dudes that are old as fuck.

We don’t work together. Met through a coworker.

Maybe I should change careers. I mean how hard can it be to train as a government agent???

You looked at the multiple question marks she sent after that. I’m telling your husband.

I showed him the picture and he agrees that he’s hot lol. He also would like to have you guys over.

So you both can ask him what he sees in me?

Hey, I’m only joking. We would really like you guys to come over. I want to meet my brother-in-law.

I’ll tell him but he’s very busy.

Sooo what does he do?

Like I said, he’s an agent. Mostly confidential work.

So you can’t tell me?

I really can’t.

You know what? It’s annoying that you can’t tell me what he does but I can understand. What I can’t understand is you getting married. Out of the blue. Without telling me.

That email left a bitter taste in your mouth. She could tell that it was not real. She knew that you were not easy to love. She knew it was impossible for you to get married. That’s why you stalled her invitation for nearly two years. You hadn’t even asked Leon because you did not know how he would react. He knew you had a sister across the country and that she was older than you but never asked about her for a while. You weren’t offended at his uninterest in your life. He didn’t have any reason to be interested in you.

He did say he was an orphan, that one time.

It all made sense after that, he didn’t like to talk about families. Maybe because he wasn’t used to belong. To belong to a family. Belong to someone. Think about them because he belongs to them and they belong to him.

All things considered, you thought Leon turned out more than okay. Closed off but very kind, gentle, understanding.

He leans forward and helps you split one dumpling into two with his chopsticks. His shoulder bumps yours and stays there because he refuses to let go of the back of the couch behind you. When you pull your sleeve over your fingers, he quickly eats one whole dumpling, leaving you with the smaller one that he helped you split and covers your hand with his.

“You cold?” He looks silly when he stuffs his face full of food.

“No.”

“Your hands are cold.” He doesn’t’ say like always but it’s there in his voice.

He doesn’t mind touching you when he’s in a good mood, mostly when he’s a little intoxicated like this. Usually, he’s not a touchy person. You’re glad he’s not, it reminds you that you definitely like him more than he likes you. He needs the little nudge of alcohol to let go of his inhibitions. He didn’t touch you until you gave him the green light on your birthday. He didn’t know what to get you as a gift so he got you yellow roses and the blandest birthday card known to man.

Happy Birthday, from Leon.

“It isn’t anything special, I know.” He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’m not good at this stuff.”

But it was special, it was from him; with his emotionally constipated, probably unintended curt message. You knew deep down he had a big heart. He cared enough to stop on his way to get you these. You didn’t think much, because there were times when you didn’t need to think about this, you just reached and hugged him around his waist. “Thank you,” you whispered. “They smell really nice. We need to get a vase for them.”

He finally put his arms around you and you felt the stiffness of his shoulders on top of yours. It was six months into your married life.

Yellow roses. He saw you as a friend. You were okay with it, as long as it meant he was not pushing you away. You were not terrible by any means. Boring and awkward, definitely. But you made it clear to him that he could talk to you about what he wanted when he wanted. He was adamant that it went both ways. However, you genuinely don’t think anything going in your life is worth talking about. Hence, he’s the one who ends up talking most of the time.

He rubs your fingers to bring them warmth. The air of the living room feels awfully similar to that one time he surprised you and laid his head on your lap. That one time you wanted to play with his hair but didn’t. It was just like this. Quiet despite the TV’s low volume, comfortable as the light coming from the lamps was soft on the eyes, smelling of alcohol as he was a little drunk. Unsure as your hands were cold and was this what being friends meant?

Sometimes he craved the quiet. He worked and worked and worked. Voices everywhere. Danger constant. His only quiet was home, you suppose.

“Why didn’t you eat?”

“I ate cereal,” you answer him.

“Has no nutritional value whatsoever,” he mutters.

“Yeah, it’s just me being lazy.”

“I don’t think we have anything in the fridge, I don’t blame you.”

You both finish your food in silence, you pretend to watch the screen in front of you the whole time. You hug your knees to your chest when you’re done and he looks like he can fall asleep any minute.

“How was your day?” you ask to keep him awake. You don’t want him to sleep here and have his back and neck all sore tomorrow.

He rests his chin on his shoulder and gives you a funny look through his long lashes. “Same as always.”

You admit to yourself that you love him like this. He seems free, happy even.

You decide to be bold and tap your shoulder for him to lay his head on.

He doesn’t seem to be thinking twice as he takes your offer and nuzzles his head on your shoulder. He’s taller and bigger than you, you suppose the position he’s in right now is not comfortable for him. He reaches back around the couch and the other hand crosses his abdomen, gripping your ankle that he is closest to. His thumb draws circles there and your brain short circuits. “How was yours?”

“My day? Nothing exciting. All paperwork.”

He hums as he squeezes your ankle, his hair tickling your nose and lips.

“You really need a shower, Leon.” You make up the courage to smooth down his blonde hair that is sticking up in every direction.

He hums again. “Are you telling me I stink?”

“Yes, mister.”

“I’m tired,” he groans but doesn’t seem tired enough as he pushes his head and messes up your balance on the couch. You have to hold on to the arm rest as he keeps nudging you with his head.

“You’ll feel gross in the morning if you don’t have a shower.”

“You have a point,” he says but does nothing to get up. Maybe it was a bad idea to offer him your shoulder and unknowingly, your ankle. He’s never acted like a kid like this before.

You get up and turn off the TV before you offer him both of your hands. “You’re not tipsy, you’re drunk. Now get up and wash yourself please.”

“I’m not drunk.”

“Yes, you are. You headbutted me.”

He takes your hands and finally gets up. “I think I ran out of shampoo.”

“You can use mine. Brush your teeth while I go get it.” You pat his back.

There’s two bedrooms in the house, one is for guests but you’ve never had guests over since you’ve both moved into this apartment. Leon uses the “guest” room downstairs. He insisted that you take the bigger room. He’s more like a roommate than a spouse.

He’s shirtless in front of the sink, brushing his teeth like you told him to when you knock on his bathroom door and hand him your shampoo. He reads the fragrance and opens its cap to smell it.

“Well, you smell nice so I can’t complain,” he says, toothbrush still in his mouth, dribbling toothpaste everywhere.

You love him in moments like these. This is the moment the wife reaches and kisses the husband. Well, maybe after he’s done dribbling everywhere but you know how this moment should go about. He won’t be like this in the morning. You know very well that he is going to be sober and back to normal Leon. He won’t say anything about his drunk self because he knows you won’t as well.

“Don’t fall in the shower!” you shout as you go upstairs to your room.

“I’m not that drunk!”

The next morning, he sees you making coffee in the kitchen. It hasn’t been long since your schedule got aligned with his. He wonders how the hell you managed to adjust your sleeping hours to the point now you could wake up before him. He used to wake up before you because you often had late shifts.

“Morning,” he says as he smells the delicious coffee that you’re pouring into two mugs. He yawns, scratching an itch on his arm. He did not use to have a coffee machine back when he was living alone. You had brought it with you to this house and saved him from Starbucks’ morning rush hour.

You slide one of the mugs in front of him and give him a warm smile. “Good morning. How are you feeling?”

He blows on the coffee before he takes a sip. “Much better now.” He clears his throat, his morning voice gruff. “I was thinking… We should commute together.”

“To work?” Your eyebrows shoot up.

“Where else?” he snorts. “What’s surprising? Why pay more for gas when we start work at the same time?”

“Wouldn’t that be…”

“It wouldn’t interfere with anything if you think about it. It’s stupid to take both cars to the same place.”

“I might work overtime,” you say and hug yourself.

He nods into his mug and seems like he wants to say more. “Then you can take your car. You’ve just started normal hours. Why are you eager to tire yourself out so quickly?”

So that we don’t have to be awkward around each other.

“C’mon, it’ll be convenient.”

It is what you repeat to yourself over and over again. It was convenient to have slept with him. It didn’t have to be a big deal. You were lonely. You reckon he had to be, too. Because why else would he want to have sex with you? He did not love you or anything. You could only think of one thing when his face was buried in your neck. You still had his yellow roses. You had preserved them between your book pages.

As he was panting above you, hands grasping your hips with vigor, your thighs caging him in and burning, you felt like a rose stuck between thousands of words never read aloud. Yellow all over, sticking out like a sore thumb between words printed in the smallest font size possible, suffocating. Once belonged with other flowers but now settled down in a place where people thought you’d look pretty.

You hate the color yellow as much as you hate the word convenient. If not, more.

He sees you wince. He cannot guess the reason behind it is his choice of words. “What do you say?”

He is offering, you think. He still likes you enough to ask.

“Okay.”

“Good, we need to get groceries on the way back.”

People don’t whisper much now that it’s been nearly two years since you two announced to your close work circle that you were married. There were a lot of surprised faces at first, thinking maybe Leon was joking or something. People didn’t know you very well. You were only close with Cathy.

“Perhaps we should wear rings,” said Leon once over dinner. “People don’t believe we’re married.”

“Is that a problem? What others think, I mean?”

He stared at your face while chewing, you couldn’t make out what he was thinking thanks to the dim light emanating from one of the lamps. “They think it’s a joke. Is it so bad that I want to be taken seriously for once? You wanted a wedding dress, I want a ring.”

“When do you want to get them?”

That led to you choosing matching rings with Leon. Simple gold bands. You make sure to wear them to work every day because if you don’t, you worry people will start to whisper again.

First it was, Leon’s not the type to get married, he’s taking the piss out of us, is it April fools today?

Then it turned into: Oh God, he’s serious, he says he got married last weekend.

Eloped? To whom?

He said her name but I don’t remember it, said she’s in archives now.

He’s married to an archivist? How on earth did they meet?

Probably in Donovan’s funeral, saw Hunnigan introducing them.

That wasn’t long ago!

I know, right?

You know some of them thought you had a one-night stand and got pregnant from him. The rumors subsided when that didn’t turn out to be true.

However, people were curious about why Ingrid Hunnigan would introduce an archivist to an agent. It didn’t take long for your name to become known because you had recently switched departments. You had been a systems analyst like Hunnigan, working with late Cathy Donovan. You’d switched to archives after her funeral.

People greeted you when they saw you. Leon’s wife, right?

Yes, but not really.

The first time Leon ever saw you was during agent Donovan’s funeral. He’d gotten back from Spain just a week ago. He did not know agent Donovan well but her name echoed in every corner. She was good at her job. Most of the time, nobody had an idea what she was up to.

“Leon, I want you to meet Cathy’s partner,” said Hunnigan, holding the shoulder of the woman standing next to her.

You stuck your hand out for him to shake and told him your name. It sounded disconsolate coming from your mouth, your own name. Your eyes were dazed, you kept your mouth in a thin line. You didn’t even look at him properly as if this was the hundredth occurrence today, Hunnigan introducing you to someone.

“I’ve heard a lot of great things about agent Donovan.” He didn’t know what else to say.

“Right, she was great,” you said, your eyes straying elsewhere. It looked like Hunnigan’s hand on your shoulder was the only thing keeping you from crumbling down. You looked so small with your shoulders hunched forward. He cringed when he saw you rip out the flesh of the side of your thumb.

Hunnigan went on about Cathy Donovan’s accomplishments to him. You continued to pick at your thumb, him watching your side profile as you kept averting your gaze from people around you. You seemed to be dissociating hard.

“These two were inseparable. I tried asking Cathy to work with me on a small mission once and she praised her so much in turn, I had to suck it up and meet this woman myself as soon as possible,” said Hunnigan heatedly. “I’m such a big fan of Cathy’s, you see, I couldn’t be upset. I love seeing her work with the best.”

“Thanks, that means a lot coming from you,” you managed to say, a beat too late. “I need to use the restroom, be right back.”

Leon knew too well that losing someone was difficult, yet he couldn’t imagine what you were going through. He furrowed his brows the moment his hand made contact with your upper arm. Maybe he shouldn’t have done that, he didn’t want to seem like he took pity on you.

“I’m so sorry for your loss.”

You made the effort to look him in the eye when it was obvious as day that you were having a hard time keeping your head up.

Your voice barely came out, “Thank you.”

Of course, you did not recognize him the second time he saw you. It was his late celebratory dinner for his mission in Spain. His coworkers had planned a small one, saying he deserved it. Once he was done with his food, he excused himself saying he wanted to get fresh air.

Not too far from the restaurant, you were sitting on a bench alone.

“Those things will kill you, y’know,” he said, eyes pointing to the cigarette you were smoking.

His unexpected voice caused you to jump in your seat. You quickly put the cigarette out by stomping it with your shoe. “I don’t usually… smoke.”

He dragged his feet while walking to sit down on the opposite end of the bench. “You didn’t have to put it out.” Though he thought you were very considerate by doing so.

“Congratulations, for the mission.”

“Thank you— name’s Leon, by the way.”

You stuck your chin out to the direction of the restaurant, “Or so I heard in there.”

“We actually met before. At the funeral.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t remember half the people I met there.”

“No need to be sorry. You seemed out of it.”

“Yeah, we worked together for a long time, Cathy and I.”

“Look, I know it’s hard and anything I say probably won’t make any difference—”

“You don’t need to—” Your voice quite literally got stuck on your throat, you composed yourself by bringing the side of your fist to your mouth and coughed into it. “I’m trying to get better. I’m here today, which is a miracle in of itself. I know people think it’s probably good to talk about her but I’m just not in the mood, okay? Thank you for your understanding but I don’t need to be reminded, it happened not so long ago.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“No, I know you mean well.” You started to sway your feet on the gravel. It was completely understandable for you to lash out but you seemed uneasy as soon as it was out of you. “Sorry, this is your happy day. I shouldn’t—”

“You realize how many times we said sorry to each other in this past minute?” he laughed. “Also, I lost a partner in Spain. I’m not that happy today.”

Your voice turning faint, seemingly regretting your flash of anger a moment ago, “You probably feel like you shouldn’t be happy.”

He nodded. “He helped me a lot but didn’t make it.” He saw your mouth open and stopped you there. “Don’t say you’re sorry. It loses its meaning when you say it too much.”

“Even if I mean it with my whole heart every time?”

“That means you’re sorry for a lot of things. It’s not healthy to carry that much weight on your shoulders.”

“Right, I’ll be like Quasimodo.” You hunched your shoulders even more forward. “Like the hunchback.”

“From the Disney movie?”

You giggled at his childishness. “Yeah, I heard there’s also a book about it.”

He looked at your squinted eyes and thought you deserved to be happy more.

As you two carried on your now meaningless conversation, he did not know that you were certain on resigning from your job and never turning back to it. You’d started to work on the archives that week, partly because your boss had foreseen you contemplating quitting all together and did not want to lose a highly valuable member such as yourself and partly because you had requested it.

At that point, you were absolutely aware of the fact that they feared you’d never turn back to your former position. And because Cathy didn’t have any plans of ever becoming alive, you also didn’t have any plans on returning. But you knew the reason behind them doing anything you asked was them giving you time to grieve. After that, the pressure would build even more and hopefully make you take your old place.

“It was Hunnigan’s idea,” you said to Leon after he asked you very kindly why you were here tonight. “Basically dragged me here. She thinks I should be around people more.”

“She’s right. I’m glad you came.”

Leon was cute, alright. That didn’t do him justice, actually. It was evident under the street light where the bench was that he worked out regularly. Biceps giving a hard time to his sleeves every time he moved, veins protruding on his forearms, his thighs looking like they’d help him carry ten people on his large back. And oh, his broader-than-the-horizon shoulders. An absolute unit of a man with cheekbones and jawline honed like a Greek statue. With his dark blonde hair falling on his face in that charming way and his oh so kind blue eyes, you knew he was out of your league.

His gentle aura making him seem like a Prince Charming or a white knight or whatever the fuck those Disney movies had.

You planned on never seeing anyone from work again, you had nothing to lose. And Cathy so would say to shoot your shot.

“I’m thinkin’ of getting a few drinks in me, want to tag along?”

“What do you have in mind?” He seemed interested, a good sign.

“You got any suggestions? And don’t say beer because I plan on getting wasted beyond recognition in like an hour.”

“Yeah, be careful. And don’t drink and drive.” The way he took a U-turn on his interest irritated you. You really thought he wouldn’t say no, you were getting along well, flirting even. “Did you come here with your car?”

“Yeah.” You tried to not sound upset. “I’m not a teenager. I’ll take a cab. Drinks will be on me.”

“Ah, thanks but I’ll have to refuse. They’ll probably wonder where I went. It’s my dinner, after all.” The polite smile he gave you was so infuriating.

You got up from the bench. He had the audacity to look you up and down after that. “Then please tell Hunnigan I’m sorry I left early, will you?”

“I will.” He fidgeted and crossed his arms. Oh God, you’d made him uncomfortable. It was just minutes ago he was sort of flirting with you. “Don’t drink too much.”

God, why did he have to be so annoying?

The next time you two met was at the closest pharmacist to work, few weeks after his dinner and your failed attempt to get him in your bed.

“One box of aspirin, please.” Your head snapped up at that voice. Unmistakably, Leon. With his broad back facing you, he hadn’t seen you yet.

“What can I get you, miss?”

Leon stepped over to the side when they called to you, still not looking at you.

“Eyedrops, please.”

“Miss, are you alright?”

To that, he did a double-take. You’d looked disheveled to the point of worry. Eyes and nose a few shades redder than the rest of your face, eyebags puffy and makeup smudged. With your now extremely frizzy baby hairs doing anything but their job of framing your face, it was apparent that you’d been crying.

“Yes, it’s just an allergy.”

“Can I get you anything for that?”

“No, thank you. I already have meds for it.”

Leon thanked when they gave him his aspirin and turned to you. “Wait here, don’t go anywhere.” He quickly left the pharmacist.

Surprisingly, you did wait for him outside. Why? You had no idea. Frankly, you were hoping to cry more in your car.

Approximately five minutes later, he came to you jogging lightly. He thrusted a water bottle in your hand. “Where’s your medication?”

“What?”

“For your allergy?”

“Oh, um—” You couldn’t find a lie fast enough, usually you were not bad at lying but the way he appeared to be worrying about your well-being was baffling to say the least. “I don’t have it, I mean—” You pressed the water bottle to your stomach and held on to it for comfort. “I don’t have an allergy.”

It was his turn to be baffled. “Are you alright?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“You don’t look like it.” He looked at you and around you as though checking to see any injury. “You should drink up.” He motioned to the bottle and watched you take a gulp.

“Thank you. Oh, you should, too,” You tried to give him the rest of the water while his stare questioned you. “For your aspirin.”

“I already took it. I’m supposed to take it with water?”

“Yes, Leon. Have you been taking them without water this whole time? Then why did you bring me water?”

“I didn’t know that! You looked dehydrated.”

“That’s not good for you. Now I’m worried about your stomach.”

His blue eyes shined like he came to a revelation. “That’s why my stomach burns when I take them?”

How are you this stupid, you suppressed saying, if you had known him well enough at that time, you definitely would. You forgot for a second that you were annoyed at him for rejecting you few weeks ago and find yourself flabbergasted at thinking that he is endearing, in a way.

You made small talk with him about his lunch break and he insisted on walking you to your car.

“Can I help you with anything?” he said sympathetically once you stood in front of your open car door. “You still look…”

Like a truck hit me, you wanted to complete his sentence.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine. It just happens time to time.” You tried to make yourself presentable by adjusting your blouse and hair.

“It?”

“Sometimes I cry for no reason. It happens randomly, too, I don’t know when and where I’ll be crying most of the time. Like, I’ll be reading something, it doesn’t have to be sad, I mean— I was reading reports before I came here. Sometimes it gets too much, like now.”

“Will you be okay driving?”

“Yeah! Talking with you definitely helped.” His apprehensive gaze pierced through you. You actually felt like crying again, your chest feeling tight, eyes burning. You stood upright with the support of your car door. “I’ll be fine, Leon.”

“I’m choosing to believe you. Drive safe.” He shifted his weight on one of his legs and seemed ready to take off.

“Thank you. See you around?”

“You probably won’t for a while,” he said to the ground, soothing the itch on his calf with his other leg’s shin. He looked up and squinted his eyes against the sun. “I got assigned a mission. I don’t know for how long.”

“Oh, I’ll be at your celebratory dinner then, if I get an invitation.”

“Well, I don’t know how it will go. I’ll only invite you if you won’t talk for the whole dinner but flirt with me outside again.”

“You didn’t need to embarrass me like that,” you chuckled nervously. “I wouldn’t say I’m a push and pull kind of woman.”

“You can show me what kind of woman you are when I get back?”

“Very smooth, Leon.”

He seemed taken aback. “I’ll see you then.” Suddenly, he was distant again. This time you didn’t know what made him uneasy.

“Yeah… Be safe on your mission.”

He just nodded. You got in your car and gripped the steering wheel tightly until the sight of his leather jacket clad back disappeared. You hunched forward, shoved your forehead to the wheel and tried to take a deep breath. The crying spell didn’t go away as the tears burst down first and then the sobs jerked your entire body.

I will not ask you where you came from I will not ask you, neither should you

Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips We should just kiss like real people do

—Like Real People Do, Hozier

The inside of Leon’s car smells nice, he takes good care of it.

“I’m going to see my sister this weekend,” you say, averting your gaze from the way he steers the wheel with one hand. His other hand is on his knee, tapping away. The effect his toned arms have on you is humiliating.

“I think I can make it.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t have anything that day. I can go with you. It’s your mother’s death anniversary, right? I think it’s time I pay my respects.”

It’s these things he says that leave you puzzled. He’s incredibly thoughtful, no matter who he’s talking to. He very well could have his day off-work for himself, but he asks anyway.

“Do you actually want to meet my sister?”

“I do. I hope to make a good first impression.”

You think about it for a second and end up telling him. “I sent a picture of you to her back when we got married.”

“How’d you get a picture of me?” he asks, appalled. The only picture he has of himself besides the wedding one is on his badge.

“Our wedding picture, dummy. We have one, remember?”

“Oh, right, I forgot.” You can’t complain because you keep it in a dresser drawer in the envelope it came in. He was on duty again when it came and you’d showed it to him once he was home. The left corner of his lips had curled up and for a second, you thought you saw affection in his eyes. “It came out okay? I was sweating buckets, but you—" he’d said and pointed a finger to your face in the photo. “Your hands were ice cold, I nearly asked you to paste your hands to my forehead just so I could cool down.”

“We still have the picture, right?” he asks.

“Yes, it’s in my room. Why?”

“Can I have it?”

“Yeah, they sent two. Can I ask what you’re going to do with it?”

“Give it to the mafia or hire a hitman to go after you, what else?” He lets out a hollow laugh. You want to record the sound and have it forever play in your ears. “I want to frame it and put it on my desk. People usually have pictures of their spouses and children or even their dogs on their desks, no?”

Yes, you know. You have pictures with your best friend and sister on your own desk at work.

It’s his way of saying you mean something to him.

You call your sister’s name as soon as you see it. “Why do you have this picture here?”

She’s carrying the empty plates to the sink as you hold on to her fridge’s door handle.

She looks up to see you pointing at your wedding picture. It’s on her fridge. You don’t even display it in your own house.

“You printed it?”

“I did,” she says. “It’s a good picture.” Her house is littered with pictures of her and her husband on different vacations, of you and your mother and her together in some.

“You just met Leon today.”

“And I think he’s great. You’re happy with him. That’s all I could ask for.”

You were happy since he was in a good mood the entire ride coming here. It was long but you two had a smooth ride and he amused you with his corny jokes and stories. You tore small pieces of bagel and fed him when he said he was getting hungry. He was tired from driving the whole time, but of course he didn’t have it any other way and jestingly banned you from getting behind the wheel. He did make a good first impression like he promised, although he kept bobbing his cramped leg. He’s now in the backyard with your brother-in-law, chatting about football, probably.

Your sister gets your attention by giving you a side hug and rubbing your back. “You’re my only sister, of course I’m going to have a picture of your happiest day.”

You hug her back around her waist. She even had photos of your birth in the living room. Your mom in a hospital bed, one day-old baby you cradled in her arms, your father hugging your mother and looking down at you with adoration in his eyes. Did he know then, that he would never be there for you to look at you like that again?

“You remember dad, right?” you ask quietly. She was older and was able to tell stories about him to you. “How was he like? Before he left, I mean.”

“Like I told you, he loved us so much. I don’t know if it was the same case for my mom. She later told me she saw it coming, that he likely had another woman.”

“How did mom know?”

Your sister sighs and rest her head on top of yours. “She said she could just feel it. Said he felt distant. He used to come home late leading up to it, sometimes drunk. One day I woke up and he wasn’t home. Didn’t say anything, just abandoned us like that.”

There’s that sadness again, creeping up to your chest and placing a big rock there. You feel like you’re being crushed by it. Your mom had always been ambitious, had dreams for herself and her family, deserved so much more than what she got.

Leon’s laughing loudly in the backyard, your head whips to see the sight.

“Come on, go mingle with your husband. I got it from here,” says your sister and starts to place the dishes in the dishwasher.

“I’ll go get us some beer,” says your brother-in-law and gets up from his chair. The weather is amazing today, your sister had set up a nice meal outside. Leon was getting along with them well. What more could you ask for?

You find yourself alone with Leon when your brother-in-law goes inside the house. You sit next to him and he promptly puts his arm on the back of your chair.

“How’s your leg?” you ask him.

“My thighs are sore,” he groans. “Good thing we’re not driving back tonight.”

“Well, I wouldn’t let you anyways.” You put a hand on his knee and start to massage, hoping it will help his aching legs. You’re even bolder than a few days ago. He doesn’t seem to mind it.

“It hurts here,” he says and grabs your hand, placing it higher on his thigh. “You can put more pressure, I can hardly feel it.” His thigh is firm and thank God, your hands manage to stay stable. You ball your hands into fists and start to punch lightly where he wants. The meat of his thighs doesn’t even jiggle, reminding you that he’s mostly made of muscle.

You focus up on his knees. “I’ll drive us to the cemetery tomorrow.”

“I can—”

“No. You’re tired, Leon. I want to drive, don’t make me upset.”

“Would you actually be upset if I—”

“Yes, very.” You pinch his thigh and that makes him press his lips together.

“They’re really nice, you know,” he means your sister and her husband. “I feel like an ass for not meeting them sooner.”

“You like them?” You raise an eyebrow.

“I do.”

“So, any propositions?”

“Huh?”

“Got asked for a threesome yet?” you smirk.

“I’m sorry?” He’s horrified and you find it funny.

“After I sent the wedding picture to them, they both said you were hot. I just remembered it.”

“I’d rather not know that!”

“Relax, Kennedy. I’m just joking. They’re not gonna ask you that.”

He visibly relaxes and puts you in a headlock in a play-fight manner with the arm that was behind you. His nose and mouth pressed up against your hair, he says, “I’ll just tell them I’m a one-lady type of man if they ever do.” You consider biting his arm.

“Can the lovebirds look up here for a second?” chirps your sister. She has come with her camera outside. “It’s the golden hour.”

Leon adjusts his head to look towards the camera and relaxes his hold on you, arm dangling from your shoulder, other hand engulfs yours on his knee, rings clashing.

“Aww,” your sister coos as she takes the photo. “I’ll send this to you.”

She doesn’t suspect a thing, probably because you’re not pretending anymore.

You splash your face with cold water after you’re done brushing your teeth in your sister’s guest room bathroom. Leon’s inside the room, splayed out on the bed, exhausted after today. It won’t be awkward, you say to yourself, hope to God your hands don’t start to tremble from anxiety.

Leon has taken off his t-shirt, bent one of his knees and put his hands behind his head. Not helping your case by looking irresistible. Even the tufts of hair under his arms are endearing to you.

“How are you holding up?” he asks once you sit on the bed next to him, back facing him. He knows you will visit Cathy too when you get back.

“I’m good, Leon.” You take off your ring and place it next to his on the bedside drawer. “Never been better, actually. I missed them.” You twist your upper body to face him. “Here,” you say as you place your newly washed cold damp hands on both sides of his face in attempts to cool him down.

He shivers, his shoulders going up slightly for a quick second. “That’s nice,” he murmurs, closing his eyes. You’re silent, in part because you’re speechless before his beauty, but you also would like to try to give him a little piece of serenity he needs.

“This used to be my mom’s room when she was living here.”

He hums softly and opens his eyes, his hands coming up to hold on to your bare arms, the skin between his eyebrows pinched.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, hands finding place on his broad shoulders.

He starts to rub your arms up and down, his hands stopping after a while to trace a strap of your tank top with his fingers. All of your worries about intimate gestures going out the window the moment you let his hands wander.

This is the tender domesticity that you’ve been longing for so badly, you want to thank him.

He scrunches his nose. “I wanted to kiss you, now I think it’ll be inappropriate.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. Your grip on his shoulders is now stronger, begging not to tremble. He feels lonely, he shouldn’t have come here. You have to swallow hard. “It won’t.”

His hand goes up to cup the back of your neck, he’s staring at your lips like he doesn’t wish for anything else. “C’mere.” He tugs at your hip to get the lower half of your body up on the bed. He drapes you halfway on his torso.

Once you’re situated to his liking and casting a shadow on his face, he brings you down ever so gently to his mouth, massaging your nape. He’s hot all over, his mouth, his breath on your face, his chest, the hand that’s splaying his fingers on the small of your back. With his soft lips moving lazily against yours, you’re quite literally bursting at the seams. The muffled sigh he drags across your mouth tempts you to press your entire body to his harder and sling your leg across his hips.

His kisses turn into open-mouthed ones and he tastes like minty toothpaste and sunlight on golden hour.

A small noise comes out of your throat, hands straying down to his bare chest and he has to cradle your face to stop. “We should sleep.” His Adam’s apple bobs enticingly. “I seriously don’t want to disrespect your mother’s ghost.”

A laugh escapes your lips as he hugs your head and buries it to his chest, his chin resting on top. “You’ll apologize to her tomorrow.”

It’s okay, you think when you feel the low timbre of his chuckle on his chest. We’re okay. We’re doing better.

There's no plan, there's no race to be run The harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun There's no plan, there's no kingdom to come I'll be your man if you got love to get done Sit in and watch the sunlight fade Honey, enjoy, it's gettin' late There's no plan, there's no hand on the rein

—No Plan, Hozier

The fourth time you saw Leon Kennedy was at a bar. You thought his coworkers were going to be there to see him after his mission but it was just you two.

He had emailed you a day before, saying he asked for your email address from Hunnigan, inviting you for drinks the next day and apologizing for letting you know this late.

“Where’s everyone? Am I early?” you asked, despite noticing the table he was sitting at was for two people.

He looked up and you were taken aback by the sight of him. He looked tired. He had a bit of a stubble and his hair was tousled. “No, you’re right on time,” he said, getting up to pull your chair for you. “It’s good to see you.”

“Likewise,” you said, ridding yourself from your jacket. You actually put in the effort to look good that day. A nice outfit, a little bit more makeup, hair done.

As you sat down in front of him, a corner of his lips went up, “You look good.”

“The last time we spoke wasn’t my best moment.”

“How have you been?”

You placed your hands on the table and started to play with your fingers, anxious. “Since then? Better, I suppose. How about you? Your mission went well?”

“Depends on how you define well.”

“You’re still in one piece.”

“If only that was enough.” You didn’t get to see his disappointed expression for long when a server came up to your table and Leon quickly ordered a drink, asked what you wanted and waited with his hands together on the table.

Once the server was away, you slightly leaned towards him. “They should be grateful that they got their best agent back alright.” Although you couldn’t ask him any details about his mission, you knew he was a special agent that was good at this job.

“Hunnigan told me you’re in the archives.”

“Yeah, that happened months ago, before your dinner.”

“Why the change of heart?”

“I—uh…” Your throat felt dry under his piercing stare. “I wasn’t needed there anymore. So I transferred.”

“Really? I heard it’s quite the opposite.”

“Oh, they’re talking about me?”

“Yes, seems like they really want you to work with agents again.”

“I know that,” you said and dug your fingernails to the corner of the table, his eyes following the motion.

“What do you mean?” he said, scratching his jaw. “You said you weren’t needed.”

“I felt like I wasn’t being useful. I tried to quit. They tried really hard to keep me there. Now, they’re constantly asking me to come back after everything.”

“They do know how to squeeze the last bit out of everyone,” he nodded. “Are you happy with where you are right now?”

“As in life?” You rolled your eyes thinking about it. “What does it look like?”

“I was worried the last time I saw you.” He sounded sincere.

“I know, I looked miserable.” Probably looked like the physical embodiment of a cry for help, too. “Can we not dwell on it, please? I’m better now. But now you—” You reach and tap on the middle of the table. “You look like you need to sleep for days.”

“That would be great,” he sighed.

You kept looking at the door but no one from work was coming in. “Why is no one coming, Leon?”

“They won’t, to be honest with you. I only invited you.”

Your back was then one with the chair. “Oh.”

“I should’ve let you know, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I don’t mind the quiet,” you smiled. And then you realized, he was doing the same thing you were doing, pushing anyone and anything away.

Him reaching out to you, this was his cry for help. Why you specifically, you didn’t know.

“You told me you lost a partner in Spain, were you close?”

To that, he dropped his chin and stared at his lap. “No, I wouldn’t say that. I didn’t know him. We met under strange circumstances and ended up helping each other. I got the impression that he regretted a lot of things but wanted to believe people could change.”

“I believe people can change, for the better or worse,” you mumbled.

Your server came with your drinks. Leon didn’t waste a second and downed nearly half of his drink. “You tried to quit?” he asked.

“I did. I thought it was time for a little stability in my life. This is as far as I can get to it,” you said and took a sip of your drink which was the same one as Leon. It was strong.

“Stability. That’s unlikely in this job,” he scoffed, fingers tapping at his glass.

“Do you see it as impossible, Leon?” You desperately hoped he would say no, you needed to hear from someone that it wasn’t just a pipe dream.

He seemed to be thinking for a slow moment. “I guess, for some people, it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

“For you it would?” you inquired.

“I once thought I would marry my first girlfriend. I was like what? Twenty, twenty-one? I was really stupid and in love. If twenty-one-year-old Leon saw this, he would be devastated,” he said and raked a hand through his hair. “I don’t think I can find someone who would understand what I do. It’s not like I can tell them. They’d be in danger because of me. I can’t ask them to trust me blindly. I wouldn’t want them to.”

“If someone was willing to accept you as you are, do you think..?”

“Who in their right mind would?” he groaned in exasperation.

“I would. But my situation is different, I have an understanding of what you do. I also can’t be in any more danger than I already am.” There was a beat of silence after you said that. The drink was definitely too much for you, you were sure. Your ears were burning hot, one hand coming up to cool one down with your nervous cold fingers, your eyes roamed the whole place. You chugged the remaining of your drink and wiped your mouth.

“Whoa, slow down there,” he bolted and looked at your abashed face as if he was in a contemporary art museum, trying to understand what the artist meant with their absurd piece.

Feeling self-conscious, you fixed your hair and babbled out, “Why did you get into this line of work in the first place?”

His back straightened, shoulders rolling back. “I was… recruited.” You didn’t quite understand how but remained from prodding any further. “I was the best candidate for what they wanted. An orphan who didn’t have anything to lose.”

It really wasn’t going well for you. You wanted to bang your head against the table and avoid looking at him completely but after what he had revealed to you, you couldn’t be any ruder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

If Cathy were to hear about this, you wouldn’t hear the end of it. Good job honey, that’s one way to woo a man. She would’ve said it in that sarcastic tone which she infamously was a master of.

“No, it’s fine,” said Leon. “You could do so much better than me, though.”

Have you seen yourself, you wanted to exclaim.

Your nostrils were wide, trying to sober you up by hogging as much oxygen as possible, you tried to remain calm, you were feral however. “Why do you keep putting yourself down, Leon? You know, you could’ve called your friends today and they would’ve come running to you. You’re a great person, they don’t give a damn about how successful your mission was. They’re happy that you’re back, that’s all. They are your friends, not the alcohol.”

He was dead silent, staring at his glass with an expression you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“I’m sorry for overstepping but I saw how they were trying to look out for you at the dinner. There wasn’t even a glass of wine there, celebration my ass. Everybody can tell you’re not fine. I don’t know you that well but even I can tell. What you’re doing to yourself isn’t healthy. It’s self-destructive.”

He wiped his forehead. “You’re the one to talk.”

“Excuse me?”

“Hunnigan’s always talking about how you’re running away every time you see her. She has to drag you everywhere. She’s being nice to you, you could try appreciating that, you know? And you’re clearly stuck up on something, are you trying to repent for your sins or what?” He quite literally disarmed you with his icy stare.

“I’m not Catholic,” you retorted.

“Well, would you look at that. We’re more similar than I thought.” The smirk he had on was sardonic, the furthest from being friendly. You felt an urge to get up and never look back.

“Wrong,” you said as you crossed your arms. “I don’t expect alcohol to solve my problems.”

“Yeah, you’d rather run away from them. And that isn’t going well for you, is it?” He finished his drink and motioned for the server for another. “Also, stop being a hypocrite.”

“Excuse you?” you said with seething anger.

“Are you not trying to ‘get wasted beyond recognition’ right now, as you put it?” he sneered and pointed out your empty glass.

“That was one time, I usually don’t drink. And I’m not planning on drinking more.”

“Oh, did I ruin your fun?”

“Stop that,” you said through your gritted teeth. “Stop being mean. I’m not your friend. You don’t have to push me away. I don’t know why you invited me here. I can just get up and go, leave you with whatever you have up your ass that’s making you act like this. I’m only asking you to stop putting yourself down so much and you’re being all defensive. You know what, I don’t deserve this.” You got up from your chair, grabbing your jacket and purse.

He stood up quickly and tried to follow you. “Sit down, Leon. Your drink is coming.” You didn’t give him any chance to reply and threw the amount of cash that covered your single glass of alcohol on the table.

The walk from the noiseless bar to the nearest bus stop was not pleasant, to say the least. The air was biting cold, hitting your warm cheeks and making you shiver.

Leon only lost sight of you because he stopped to tip the server generously. He fucked up big time, he knew that. It was going to be a pain in the ass if you already jumped in a cab but he had hope that no vacant cab was passing the area on a Friday night.

He was stupid to think this would go smoothly. The last time he saw you, he was concerned about you. The way you’d casually admitted you were not fine was echoing in his mind. He wanted to see if you’d be there by the time he was back from duty. He admitted he was scared for you, for that woman who seemed so small during the funeral, for that woman who had a meltdown in her car in the middle of the day, barely hanging on.

He wanted to tell you today that maybe you should quit. But you had already crossed that bridge.

Maybe you wanted to help people, too. At least at the beginning. Now you wanted peace and quiet, because your life has been anything but. Unlike you, he gave up on that a while ago. He wanted to regard your daring words— I would— as being drunk, he really did.

Ada would never admit she’d want something like that to him, to anyone. Ada didn’t want a stable life, she would never live at a place longer than a month, work with someone more than twice. Even after all of their encounters, Leon still didn’t know what her actual motives were. Raccoon City, Spain, his last mission.

It was pitiful, the way his breath would hitch every time he saw a dark-haired woman wearing red out of the corner of his eye. His heart would pound in his ears for a quick second before he’d realize he was mistaken. He would allow himself, for a brief moment, that maybe it was Ada, here to see him. However, she was never the one to be sentimental. Her every action had a tangible intention that Leon could never guess.

But Leon knew she cared. Enough to save him every goddamn time he needed saving. Enough to ask him to come with her. If he was twenty-one, he would’ve chosen to tail behind her, ready to follow her wherever. Except he had changed, he was not naive anymore. He’d like to think he made the right choice by separating their ways back in Spain. He didn’t know if he was going to be used again.

He also didn’t know what would become of them. Needless to say, he wasn’t going to abandon the mission and ride off into the sunset with Ada yet a part of him wondered about their alternate universe in which he chose to follow her. What would have happened if he just hopped onto that helicopter with her? Where would she have taken him? Was she planning on greeting him properly after all those years? Was he ready to forgive her after Raccoon City?

Perhaps she would have dropped him off somewhere, with a phone number or an address, leaving him confused yet again. Maybe he would’ve reached out, met her in a different circumstance where they didn’t have to constantly run away from trouble. Maybe she’d be living in a small flat and then she’d ask him to come over. Maybe he’d continue to visit her, make himself familiar with her small space.

Except that was not feasible at all, since she was a fleeting kind of woman, just like all the moments they shared. Not there to stay. And none of these would happen, it would always be a different hotel room, different city, barring him from being constant in her life.

A puppy love, he used to think. Young, naive, credulous love. No, he realized, it got older and bigger, sicker. It was time to put it down, put it out of its misery.

He sprinted to the bus station, his hunch was right, you were sitting there, arms folded on your chest, alone. You looked up the moment you heard his footsteps. He left a few steps between you two and braced himself by putting his palms on his knees.

“Why did you come here?” he asked, his eyes were focused on your red nose. Probably from the cold, he convinced himself.

“What do you mean? You asked me to,” you grimaced.

“You said we’re not friends, so why did you come here?”

Your head turned opposite of Leon, resting your chin on your shoulder and hugging yourself tighter. “I wanted some company,” you grumbled, the collar of your jacket muffling your voice. “I think Hunnigan’s right and I might need it.”

“Sorry I’m not a decent one.” He took slow steps to sit next to you on the narrow bench of the bus stop, his shoulder grazing yours. That made you perk up at him.

“I’m sorry for the things I said earlier,” you said, holding his gaze.

“You said a lot of things.”

“Well, I’m sorry for all of them, I crossed a line.”

“Don’t be, I needed the scolding.”

“I didn’t mean to scold you.”

He knocked his knee to yours. “Do you always regret the things you say immediately after? I was an asshole, you got angry, rightfully so.”

“But I was the one who started it,” you pursed your lips.

“Doesn’t matter, we’re not kids.”

“I, uh, called a taxi, should be here in a few minutes,” you said after a minute of silence.

“Okay, tell me something in the meantime.”

“What do you want to hear?”

His thumb caressed his brow, he was contemplating. “Would you consider marrying me?”

“What?”

“Would you marry me? If I asked?”

“No, I heard you the first time.” Your eyes took in every inch of his face, searching for a sign, anything that might explain this. “Leon, are you drunk?”

“No, I’m nowhere near drunk. It takes more than one drink for me to get buzzed.” He crossed his arms, imitating you. “Think about it, we can both try to live calm and stable.”

Your face was contorted in confusion, still for a slight pause. “People don’t marry out of spite, Leon. They marry out of love.”

“Who said anything about spite?”

“You’re clearly angry at something or someone.”

“I am not.”

“This life you are living right now… isn’t quite what you planned, is it? Some things didn’t go according to plan and now you’re here, trying to steer the reins again. And you’re angry.”

“What are you, my therapist?” This time his comeback didn’t sound as if it was meant to hurt you, but to make the air between you lighter. “I guess I do resent some things, doctor.”

You went along with his enactment. “Admitting is a huge step Leon, I appreciate the honesty.”

“Now you be honest,” he said, bouncing his leg in impatience. “Are you in a relationship? Am I being creepy by cornering you like this?”

“I’m not and I don’t feel cornered. If I did, I’d just get up and go. You just saw.”

He nodded, his lips in a thin line. “Experienced firsthand how you run away from your problems and I don’t mean it figuratively.”

You chuckled. “You are not a problem in my life.”

“Not a friend either.”

Your smile dropped. “I don’t think we know each other that well.”

He hummed, looking far away. “That’s probably your cab.” He got up, shaking off dust from his jeans. “Take my number before you get in and let me know when you make it home safe.”

You gave him your number but didn’t get to write your name in his contacts as the cab drew near. “Thanks for keeping me company, you didn’t need to run after me,” you said as you handed him his phone.

“We won’t dwell on it,” he winked as he opened the back door of the cab for you. “And think it over, okay?”

“What?”

“My proposal. We can get to know each other, then we can get married. It doesn’t have to be a big deal. It’ll be convenient.”

“Tell me one good thing that will be convenient.”

“Uh, okay. Here’s two for you,” he said and held up two fingers. “A better healthcare plan and tax benefits.”

You laughed and the driver seemed annoyed that you were still standing in front of the open door. “I should get going.”

“Text me when you get home,” he said when you finally got in the car.

You texted him again two weeks after his ridiculous proposal.

Hi, Leon. Do you remember what you asked me after the bar two weeks ago?

Hi. Yes I remember.

Were you being serious or should I pass it as tipsy nonsense?

There was no response from him for a few minutes and you had started biting your nails nervously.

I was being serious. I wasn’t tipsy.

You stared at his short text longer than it took him to reply. You had already made up your mind but it felt cheap telling him over a text. This was not the proper way of doing this. You also didn’t know how to convey this to him, so you resorted to a playful text.

Ask me properly and I’ll consider it.

I’ll ask you again properly over dinner next Friday? I know a good Italian place.

The next Friday, he kept his promise and said those four words in a fancy quiet Italian restaurant. You said yes.

“I have a request,” you said, swirling your wine before taking a sip. “I want a wedding dress, not like a gown or anything. Just a simple white dress.”

“Sure, I already have a suit that I can wear.”

Your heart tugged in your chest. The fact that you had to buy your wedding dress by yourself, no matter how simple you envisioned it to be, without Cathy by your side was making your ears ring, drowning out all the knife and fork clatter around you.

Here's my hand There's the itch But I'm not supposed to scratch

—Love Me More, Mitski

It’s four a.m. and you want to say you’ve actually seen it coming. Every time something good happens, its catastrophe follows eventually. Just like how Cathy’s mission was going so well until it wasn’t.

It’s four a.m. and the meal you’ve prepared for Leon has gone cold on the dining table. You thought he’d be hungry when he came back from mission, so you went out and bought ingredients, followed a recipe word for word, even made soup additionally just in case he didn’t feel like eating solid food after what his body’s been through. He said he’d be back at one a.m. and he hasn’t contacted you since. You’ve called and texted him numerous times but it was radio silence from him.

He had promised you, before you got married, that he would always let you know when he got back from a mission and he always did. He never once forgot because you were very serious about this, wanted to know as soon as possible that he was back safe.

It’s four a.m. and you feel like you’re going crazy, soaring into a heaving fit as each minute passes by.

The sound of his keys makes you clutch at your chest and before you even realize, your legs are walking you to the front door. He’s being quiet and you wait for him few steps behind the door. His steps are feather light, head bowed down to take off his shoes, he exhales a long breath as he places his backpack down.

He flinches when he sees your silhouette in the dark. “God, you scared me. I thought you’d be sleeping.”

“You didn’t text me,” your voice breaks, your hands are clutching at the sides of your pajama shirt like it’s a lifeline.

“I forgot.”

Your tears threaten to fall down and you’re grateful that it’s dark and he can’t see. You bite down your lip strong enough to make it bleed. “I was worried.”

“I’m fine, you didn’t need to stay up.”

It’s not like you chose to, you physically couldn’t lie down or eat anything when your mind went all haywire, creating the worst possible scenarios it could think of.

“I, um, made dinner.” You point to the table. “But it’s gone cold, I can heat it up. Don’t know if it will taste any good, though. Did you have any chance to eat something? I mean, if you ate dinner, it’s been hours and you’re probably hungry—”

“I’m not hungry.”

“I also made soup, so it’s easier on the stomach. You’re tired, right? Just eat some soup and then go to sleep. I’ll heat that up and there’s also tea in the pantry, supposed to help you sleep. Oh, I filled up the bathtub, I’ll go drain it, the water’s gone cold and you probably want to have a hot shower—”

He cuts you off again by blurting out your name. “Hey, hey, slow down.” His calloused hands come up to hold your shoulders and you let out a small whimper of surprise, your chin dropping to your chest. “I don’t want anything, I’ll just sleep.”

You shrug and escape from his hold, so he doesn’t ask you why you’re trembling like a leaf. “But shower…” you manage to make out and point to the direction of his room.

“Yes, I’ll drain the tub and shower, you go to sleep, okay?”

“Okay,” you say softly. He’s home, you repeat deliriously. He’s here, very much alive. The thought calms your nerves instantly.

He doesn’t turn on any of the lights while navigating his home in the dark. You crane your neck to watch his silhouette move to his room. He opts to turn on the bathroom light first. You listen to the water droplets as you put away the food you made for him in containers. He says something you can’t quite hear when he gets out of the shower.

“Did you say something, Leon?” you raise your voice slightly.

“Yeah, did you clean my room?”

“It was messy. Thought it’d be nice to see it tidy when you came back.”

He doesn’t reply right away and your head turns to his direction as if he can see you through the door.

“Thank you. You didn’t need to.”

You actually cleaned the whole house when he was away, not that he had the chance to see it.

You were aware from the very beginning that this was what you got yourself into. You and Leon never promised each other love. But why are you feeling like this now? Stupid question, really. Because things have changed, you’ve grown to love him and you’re afraid. You’re afraid that one day you’ll have to face the world without him by your side because he has become your anchor, holding you in place where you now call home. It’s nice having his warm hands on you, it’s nice coming home to him.

However, in moments like now it feels like you’re playing house, actors going their separate ways after the lights go out. It awfully feels like you’re standing in the middle of a dark stage, curtains closed so nobody can see what goes down behind the scenes.

You’re in front of his door, first aid kit in one hand, knocking. “Leon?” You know he’s not sleeping. He can’t sleep well after he comes back from his missions, his insomnia making it impossible for him.

The door cracks open and you slide past him before he can say anything, perching cross-legged on the side of his bed, placing the kit on your lap before propping his pillow against the bedpost so he can sit comfortably in front of you. “Let me have a look.” You pat on the bed. “And turn on the lamp, please.”

You can finally see him when he does. The first thing you see is the big purple bruise on his side because he’s only wearing his sweatpants. His hair is wet from the shower, hanging to his eyes, eyebags dark and prominent, one of his forearms is freshly bandaged. Despite all, he’s standing tall in front of you.

“They already patched me up,” he says, showing his bandage.

You take his hand and draw him near, making him sit on the bed with one leg dangling from the side. Half of his face is illuminated like this and you can see the cut on his jaw in its full glory. Your fingers begin to work quickly, cleaning the wound all the while he winces by closing his eyes. “Seems like they didn’t take a good look at you. What happened to your ribs?” you ask to distract him.

“Got kicked. They’re not broken.”

You put the band-aid on his jaw and search his eyes as they open. He blinks slowly at you, understanding that you want to hear more. “Hurts when I breathe but it should be gone in a few days, it’s not that bad.”

You take his unwrapped hand in yours, the skin of his knuckles is very red, it probably hurts when he flexes it. You grab the ice pack you remembered to bring with you and place it on top on his knuckles.

“Not there,” he mumbles. “Put in on my shoulder, it’s really sore.”

You place the pack on the shoulder he points. He tries to turn his head that way but his face contorts in pain and he gives up, exhaling a long sigh.

“Did you have them wrap it up?”

“No, can’t be bothered to rewrap it later.”

“That’s why you have me to do it for you,” you hum, adjusting the ice pack. You’re closer to him like this, able to smell his soap and shampoo from his body. You can make out the shape of his chapped lips and yours ache to kiss his pain away, except you are overheated with grievance.

His eyes bore into you, taking you in. There’s an unassuming hand on your bent knee, squeezing lightly. “Did I scare you?” he asks.

“You promised me,” you gripe to him, fumbling with your fingers on your lap after you place the first aid kit next to you. “You promised me that you’d let me know when you were back. Of course I was scared.”

His forehead falls onto your shoulder, damp strands of hair pressed to the side of your neck as the ice pack tumbles down his back onto the bed. “I’m sorry, honey,” he says breathily.

He’s only called you by your name all this time, so this is new. And stomach lurching. Your cheek knocks the side of his head with your startled reaction.

“I have no excuse,” he murmurs. His palm on your knee slides up, leaving a burning sensation as it goes along your thigh, bypassing your hips and finding place on the curve of your waist.

“It’s okay,” you squeak when you feel his thumb caressing your ribs through your t-shirt.

You don’t remember ever sitting down with him, drawing lines about the nature of your relationship, lines that both of you never meant to cross, because you didn’t. You didn’t discuss anything about boundaries because at the time you were getting married, you didn’t know him much. Both of you assumed that it would naturally develop, silent agreements to come.

It was manageable before, now it confuses you to the point of ripping hair from your own head. There were times where you didn’t think twice about giving him a friendly hug, a pat on the back, a reassuring squeeze to his knee but after getting into bed with him, every action was testing the waters.

It wasn’t even a bed; it was the couch in the living room where you had countless dinners and conversations, the heart of the home, if you will. It felt shameful afterwards as if it happened in an open space, because it was quick and devoid of any intimacy, but it was in the confines of your own quiet home still.

You want to go back to the time when you were friends, and not what this was supposed to be. You want to go back to the time when you didn’t know how it felt to have him like that, when you didn’t know his touch would be so tantalizing, his lips unbearably addicting, his warmth conquering.

Initially, you thought you’d cross any bridge regarding him when you came across it, but there weren’t any bridges around to reach him to begin with. You quickly realized that he had burned them before you, for everyone. So, you painstakingly built each and every one of them with your bare hands, desperate to get to him. And him shaking them felt immensely unfair, all your hard work threatened to fall.

Your hand on his chest pushes him away ever so slightly before his hand drops from your waist. He hisses softly yet the action hurts you more than it hurts him. He yields to your touch, back leaning on his propped-up pillow, waiting for you to gather the scatter of your thoughts patiently.

“Stop confusing me, Leon.”

“What do you mean?”

“What am I to you exactly?”

“You’re my wife,” he says. Obviously.

“So why doesn’t it feel like it?”

“We never guaranteed that it would.”

“Yeah, I know that. All this time I thought maybe we were doing better, now I don’t know Leon, you’re confusing me. Either stop giving me hope or just say it outright.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“That I’m just a fuck buddy to you.”

His jaw ticks, lips curl in disdain. “How shallow do you think I am?”

“I know we never established any boundaries between each other but it’s gotten to a point where I don’t know how I should act around you.”

His face stays stagnant. “You can’t be serious. Your boundaries were set from the beginning. You never had a place for me in your heart.”

Time seems to stop for you in that dire moment, Leon’s blue eyes serving you a new wrench of dismay. “When did I give off that impression?”

“Our first anniversary,” he clarifies hoarsely. “We ate pizza on the couch, remember?”

You do, you even remember the Disney movie he had rented as a cheeky nod to time you two first flirted. The Hunchback of Notre Dame.

“I always wonder why you said yes to my proposal in the first place,” he said after taking a bite from his pizza slice. It had been a year since getting married, Hunnigan was the one to point out to him. Apparently, she was proud of herself due to the fact that she was the one to introduce you two.

“I thought of Cathy and what she would’ve said to me,” you said, watching the animated Quasimodo sing his heart out to the town below him.

“What would she have said?”

“That it is ridiculous and maybe I should say yes.”

“So, you thought of what Cathy would’ve said to you getting married but not your family?”

You turned your head to him, ready to get vulnerable. “Cathy was family to me.”

“I didn’t know you two were that close.”

“Yeah, we met when we were roommates back in college. She urged me to change majors and follow her path.”

“To become an agent?”

“No, she was the one who always wanted to be a special agent. I didn’t know what to do at first but somehow ended up working alongside her.”

“What were you studying before?”

“I was studying to become a nurse. Kind of in my sister’s path, she’s a doctor.”

He scratched his nape, looking ashamed. “I believe I never asked that before, sorry about that.”

You elbowed his side after taking a sip of your drink. “Yeah, you better be sorry for not knowing what your sister-in-law does for work.”

He rolled his eyes upon your teasing. “Were they supportive of you changing majors? Your family, I mean.”

“My family’s always been small. It’s just me and my mom and sister. Dad’s never been in the picture. He left when I was a few months old. My mom raised us herself. And yes, she would support anything I did. She loved Cathy because she would make me do things I’d never do myself.”

“Your mom sounds like a great person.”

“She was. She died four days before Cathy did.”

“I’m… sorry to hear that,” he said, much more ashamed than before. You didn’t blame him, the first year of your marriage flew by really fast, with him on duty most of it. Forget sitting down like this to talk, you rarely got any chance to see him.

“Yeah, their deaths being so close fucked me up really bad. We were on mission. My mom was living with my sister then because she was sick. My sister didn’t tell me her condition was even worse than before.”

“Why?”

“Mom knew we were working on something big and begged my sister not to tell me. She thought she’d see me after I was done with the mission. I had a whole fight with my sister about it. I felt betrayed.”

“I think I would, too, in that situation.”

“I was so fucking unprofessional after that. I couldn’t keep on helping Cathy properly. And she—”

“It isn’t your fault.” He shook his head, meeting your gaze in the space between you two on the couch.

“I’m tired of hearing that,” you huffed.

“None of that is on you. It’s the truth.”

“It’s not. I knew the situation was going bad. Cathy tried to make me believe it was not. Somebody else had to be transferred to take my place instead. I insisted but I had to be taken out. That’s when we lost connection to her.”

“How did you know it was going bad?”

“I could tell from her voice. I know her better than I know myself. I failed to get her help. I should have never listened to her.”

“But you couldn’t do that, could you? She clearly gave you wrong intel. You can’t send back-up until—”

“I could’ve made it seem like she requested back-up. That would’ve saved her, exterminated the mission, but saved her. I’d have faced the consequences of my actions sooner or later. If I did that and saved her, she’d be mad at me for years but who cares as long as she’s safe and sound?”

“I get it. I’d also have someone mad at me if it meant they’d be safe.”

“In the end, she died for nothing. The cult she was infiltrating dispersed after they killed her, all fled to different countries. It’s harder to track them down now. They’re everywhere.”

“You follow through with it? It would be impossible to track down each mission.”

“Why do you think I’m in the archives? I have access to mission reports. They don’t think it is bioweapon related, so sometimes they let me see them.”

Esmeralda was dancing along people’s whistles, captivating every man in the square.

“You said Cathy died for nothing but you actually don’t want that to be true.”

Fiddling with your fingers, you said, “Obviously.”

“You’re loyal,” he remarked. “I’m sure she would’ve loved to see her mission completed. Do you ever think of working as an analyst again?”

“Nope.”

From his expression you could tell he wanted an explanation, so you gave him one, “I don’t want to see people get hurt anymore. It’s a dangerous job, you know it. Why are you asking me?”

“No offense, but then why did you agree to marry me knowing I do the same job? If you’re scared of losing someone this much—it just doesn’t make sense to me.”

You sighed, having a hard time thinking where to even start. “You’re going to call me crazy.”

“I would never,” he said, half-jokingly.

“Okay, I really did think what Cathy would tell me to do. I always listened to her, the whole time we got to spend together. She told me what she wanted to do with her life, told me I looked depressed with what I was studying and maybe we should join an academy together. She was larger than life, lit up an entire room with her presence, never spoke ill of someone, liked to help people in any way she could. I’ve always been shy, so she went above and beyond to find me decent blind dates.”

“She sounds wonderful. She was also your matchmaker?”

“In a way, yes. Dragged me to parties with her so I could have some fun.” You gave Leon a smile, recalling Cathy and her antics in your mind, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Nothing sounds crazy so far,” he reassured you.

Finished with your pizza, you dusted off the crumbs into the box and lifted up your knees to sit cross-legged facing him. “I couldn’t keep someone interested in me for more than two dates.”

“I find that hard to believe,” he replied, his eyes traveling up and down.

“No, seriously. This one time, a guy left mid-date, told me he had a phone call, paid for the coffees and just left. I waited there for half an hour. It dawned on me when I couldn’t see his car outside. Didn’t call me after.”

Leon shrugged one shoulder. “His loss.”

You smacked his bicep playfully as a way of thanking him for his compliment. “I only went on these dates because Cathy thought it would be good for me. I had a few fights with my sister about Cathy and her influence on me. She thought I was like her puppet but I genuinely don’t think like that. I told you I knew Cathy like the back of my hand. It was the same for her. Never pushed me to do something I’d be uncomfortable with. Well, I’d feel awkward at times but it would be momentary, I’d learn so much in the long run.”

“That’s a very healthy way of looking at things. I’m still waiting for the part where you think I’d call you crazy.”

“I trusted her judgment because I knew she only wanted the best for me. She’d definitely try to set me up with you if we weren’t so busy all the time,” you said, lips curling into a roguish smile.

His eyebrows shot up, being brazen about it. “Oh, you’re saying I’d have her approval?”

Especially when you keep raking your hands through your hair like that, you wished to say. “Yes, you would.”

“Thank you, that means so much.”

“You didn’t even know her.”

“Well, she means so much to you, I feel honored that you think that way.”

A haze of grief washing over your heart, lungs expanding, you started, “I also… never mind.”

A comforting hand fell on you shoulder, shaking you slightly. “Now you have to say it, don’t leave me hangin'.”

“Here’s the crazy part,” you swallowed dryly. “Whenever I thought of my future, it was always with Cathy. I didn’t even think of getting married. I thought we’d retire together when the time came, she and Allison—her girlfriend—would live next to me. And if they ever had the chance, they’d marry and maybe have kids. I’d look after them like they were my own, be the best aunt. Isn’t it crazy, dreaming of looking after someone else’s kids and not yours? Sometimes I’d lay my head down and imagine myself in a little community, living next door to Cathy and her family, growing my own vegetable garden—though I don’t know the first thing about gardening but I’d learn! I would also grow pretty flowers and give them out to anyone who decided to come over. Go to the bakery in the morning, greet everyone on the way and grab my breakfast fresh out the oven. I’d get so fat! Eating baked goods every day, sounds like heaven to me.”

“Indeed.” With a fond smile on his face, he took of his hand from your shoulder and fully turned to you, bending one leg up on the cushions. “I don’t think I met an Allison at the funeral, was she there?”

“She was,” you said, remembering the painful conversation you had with her. “She arrived really early and left before anyone from work came.”

“What happened?” he asked, noticing you ripping skin off your fingers just like you had been doing during that day.

“I tried to talk to her. She told me I was a liar and walked out—” Leon interrupted your chain of thoughts by taking your hand, preventing you from damaging your fingers further. “I couldn’t keep my promise to her. It’s awful. I told her before the mission that it was going to be okay, we’d done this with Cathy many times and I’d make sure to keep her in one piece.”

Your other hand had a death grip on your knee, nails digging and leaving indents to keep yourself grounded. “They tortured Cathy while she was captive. She died because she refused to give them any information.”

Leon seemed like he didn’t want you to continue, placed your hand in his as though he was reading your palm and started to fidget with your gold wedding band on your ring finger. “Tell me more about that dream of yours. I bet you wouldn’t even install normal ceiling lights in your house. It’d just be little lamps everywhere.”

Giggling, you said, “Yeah! I’d be that auntie that collects little trinkets and displays them all around her house. I’d learn how to knit and make so many ugly sweaters for God knows anyone.”

“So, no partner living with you? Just you with your trinkets?”

“There’s so many types of love and I just didn’t see myself in a romantic one. It just happened that I never pictured myself alone. That’s it.”

His hands slipped away after your raw confession, broad back straightening, appearing tensed up. Yet again, you couldn’t make out what his expression meant.

Esmeralda was now singing a hymn, Quasimodo staring at her in admiration from the shadows.

“I talked so much today, now’s your turn. I feel embarrassed that you know my abysmal attempts at finding love. How about you, Leon? You got any embarrassing stories that you can tell?”

His answer was quick and mischievous, “Yeah, this one time this lady just got up and left me at the bar. In the middle of an argument.”

You pursed your lips and bumped on his knee on the cushions, restraining a laugh you know he’d get satisfaction out of. “Don’t piss me off, that wasn’t even a date.”

“I had a girlfriend when I was twenty-one, she broke up with me before I started working as a cop.”

“That’s so long ago and not that embarrassing if I’m being honest,” you sniffed at him.

“I already told you about how I thought I’d marry her. I really believed my first ever relationship would live to see its future.”

Offering him a new perspective, you explained, “Well, technically it did, it just wasn’t a bright one.”

“Pshh,” he scoffed, turning to the TV, stretching before bending his arms behind his head. “Wait—you’re telling me I’m the only long-term guy you had?”

His late light-bulb moment pulled a chuckle out of you. “Turning it back to me again, okay. No, I did date a guy for nearly one year. And before you ask, he said I worked too much and wasn’t fun.”

Leon’s face scrunching as if he just ate something sour, he blurted out, “Where do you find these types of guys? Did Cathy set you up with this asshole?”

“No, actually, I found him myself.”

“Is he the one who made you think you’re not fun to be around?”

You were left stumped, unable to think of any answer.

“What? If he is, I disagree with him.”

“You only say that because I go along with your corny jokes.”

“Yeah, that’s the only reason,” he chimed sarcastically.

Quasimodo was saving Esmeralda from the burning stake, the sign that the movie was about to end.

“Your dream,” he cleared his throat. “I could just picture it like a happy ending to a Disney movie. You know, they all have happy endings. Besides, I don’t think you’re insane for wanting a happy, peaceful life.”

“What’s insane about it is that I even imagined myself dying before Cathy. Getting buried before I got to bury her. I’ve never thought I’d live the day she wouldn’t, yet here I am… I wrote an entire script for the rest of my life in my mind, that’s why I spiraled down and down and down when it was not possible to play it out anymore. So, I stopped. It wasn’t healthy for me to continue obsessing over my ruined happy ending. I decided to live in the present. Write as I live on. Be more like Cathy, hopefully.”

There was little beer left in his can but he raised it anyway. “In the loving memory of Cathy Donovan, then.”

“I don’t have any drink left,” you gasped, lifting your can. “Cathy, I’m so sorry, you deserve the fruitiest of Martinis.” If Cathy was there, she would’ve laughed like a hyena, found it hysterical that you managed to call her fruity given the context.

After the honorary toast, Leon leaned back and intertwined his hands on his stomach, eyes fixed on the TV screen where Phoebus and Esmeralda were passionately kissing.

“The novel’s ending was not family friendly, I guess,” you mocked.

“I haven’t read it.”

“If you’re planning on reading it, my lips are sealed.”

“Don’t know if I have the time. I don’t mind, tell me.”

“It’s painfully sad. Esmeralda gets hanged, Quasimodo pushes Frollo from the cathedral tower in grief and rage. That’s the moment he realizes he’s lost everyone he’s ever loved. He also refuses to let go of Esmeralda, starves himself holding on to her dead body in her grave. Years later, an excavation group finds their intertwined skeletons and when they try to separate them, Quasimodo’s bones crumble to dust.”

“Now that’s vile.”

Toss your dirty shoes in my washing machine heart Baby, bang it up inside I'm not wearing my usual lipstick I thought maybe we would kiss tonight

Baby, though I've closed my eyes I know who you pretend I am I know who you pretend I am

—Washing Machine Heart, Mitski

“How would I know I’d end up here?” you ask him, voice shaking. “We didn’t promise each other anything, so I didn’t have any hope.”

You want nothing more than to ask him about the teddy bear keychain he has in desk drawer, why he holds onto it, ask whether you should be relieved that it no longer has a key attached to it.

There is that gut feeling, clawing at your churning stomach, that tells you he has someone. Someone else who knows him better than you, who is a better match to him, who makes him happier.

Someone he loves.

“But we had sex, it made me question everything and I’ve come to the conclusion that we were both lonely and weren’t thinking straight. You acted like it didn’t change anything, it almost made me go crazy. Please say something so I can finally understand, Leon,” you cry out.

“I don’t regret it,” he declares. “I don’t regret what we did. And I know how we started this marriage, I assumed it would always be the same after you told me your feelings.”

“I admit I’m hard to be with.” Your head hangs to the side, brows furrowed. “It’s hard for me to trust someone as much as I trusted Cathy. I’m sorry it took two years for us to be candid with each other. I used to be laidback about who I slept around with before. Now, I don’t know, I think twice about how I should touch you, talk to you. I used to think romantic love was not for me, so I wasn’t worried when you proposed because you didn’t expect it. I thought it wasn’t for people like us.”

“But you are capable of love,” he emphasized. “I know you are. You’re so good to me all the time. You stay up all night worrying when I’m not home, cook food for me despite your hatred for it, remember the smallest things and help me out, talk to me when I can’t sleep. I can’t even repay you for any of it and you still continue to be good to me. See, you’re speaking in a way that’s making me think there’s a chance that you love me and I still can’t say it back.”

Your silent tears unsettle him, this is the first time you let him see you cry. He has heard it before, the soft sobs and small chokes at night when you didn’t know he was awake.

You sniffle, “I know you’re capable of it, too, Leon. If the reason you can’t say it back to me is what I think it is, you definitely are.”

You quickly wipe your tears with the back of your hand when he asks, “What do you mean?”

“There is someone, right? You love them.”

His silence speaks volumes and it becomes your acceptance.

“Don’t let this thing between us hamper it, okay? I’m fine with it. To be honest, I didn’t expect you to keep up the faithful husband act.”

“Jesus,” he howls. “Just how terrible do you think I am? This thing between us is our fucking marriage. Not some situationship. Although I can’t make you think otherwise because you refuse to. I’m only gonna say this once, okay? I respect you enough to not sleep around behind your back.”

“Thank you, Leon, but I’m saying it doesn’t matter. None of it matters.” You take both of his hands, wanting to remember the feel of him. “You love someone else and it’s okay. You’re better off with them. Hopefully they’re better at love than I am.”

You take off your ring and place it in your palm, caressing it. “I know I probably shouldn’t be asking for this but I got so used to the weight of it on my finger. Can I have it as a keepsake?”

He grips your wrist tightly, grimacing. “What are you doing?”

“This is me letting you go.”

“No.” He shakes his head, voice thick. The way he places the ring on your finger again is a wretched overcompensation for not doing it before. You two didn’t have rings at the wedding and you were the one to place it on your own finger after purchasing them. “You’re running away,” he speaks in a hoarse croak. “Where will you go this time, hm?”

“I’ll resign and move close to my sister.”

His palms are cupping your jaw, fingertips in your hair. Him closing his eyes and pressing his forehead against yours is a way of saying I can love you if you give me time, I know I can.

“Stay,” he whispers, narrowing your whole world down to his warmth and you shudder from it. “Just tell me what you need.”

I need you to love me more, love enough to fill me up till there’s no crack left for me to write happy ever afters that will never come true. I need you to fill me full up, love enough to drown it out. Drown me out.

“Kiss me.”

“That I can do, honey.”

You know perfectly well that you’re selfish for wanting him like this. However, you yearn for the still of his hands on you, the irresistible feel of his skin on yours.

A kiss is placed on your temple, another one on your damp cheekbone, another on your jaw. Your eyes are closed the whole time he moves slow with his kisses. He grazes his nose beneath your ear, bringing you close to the brink of tears again. His hot breath is licking the other side of your face after, pecking the corner of your mouth.

“Scoot,” he says before gripping your waist and tipping you towards his torso. “My back is killing me like this.”

You’re afraid of hurting him with your weight but he insists, pulling you and placing you on his lap, getting you to straddle him, your thighs encasing his on either side. Your face a few inches above his, he tips his head back and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You can see a gash on his shoulder that disappears down his back which you didn’t notice before and you become aware once again that this isn’t the right moment to ask him for this.

“Leon—”

He can tell you’re about to get off him and he shuts you up by pulling you in a crushing kiss, pressing your chest to his with arms around your back so you won’t get away. “Stay here, don’t run away from me,” he says between labored breaths. His fingertips dance on your sides, making the hair on the back of your neck stand. He can probably feel your heart thumping crazy against his chest.

You caress the indent on his chin with your pointer finger, leaning down to kiss it. Leon lets out a delicious sigh, hands feeling up the sides of your thighs.

“Why did you kiss me at the wedding? There was no one to see,” you finally ask.

He lifts an eyebrow, eyes flicking to the side trying to remember it. “The officiant was there. And the photographer.”

You nod and his lips are on yours again, tender this time. He opts to place quick kisses over and over again when he’s done being gentle. A chuckle escapes you when his nose bumps yours.

Fingers drifting under your shirt, he scratches your back up and down with his blunt nails. Any inch of skin he comes across, he kisses. Earlobe, jaw, neck, shoulder peeking through shirt. One hand splaying his fingers on your back, middle finger in line with your spine, right between your shoulder blades, the other one comes up front, lifting the front hem of your shirt. “Take this off.”

He doesn’t move the hand on your back when you’re taking it off, eyes dropping down to meet the new exposed skin. But you feel too naked, even though he’s wearing the same amount of clothes as you. You hug him around his neck, careful not to hurt him, bare chests pressed together.

He clasps the tops of your arms, biting the inside of one bicep.

“Ouch.” You retreat. “Why did you do that?”

“Let me see you.” He tips you backwards after his hand comes up to your nape, your butt slides on his lap, making you sit right on his crotch. He lets out a content hum, not embarrassed of his half hard erection. You cling to his biceps although his hand on the back of your neck is securing you in place.

A kiss is planted to the base of your throat and then to each collarbone. The hand on the front cups the underside of your breast, goosebumps rising on your skin. A wet kiss on the valley of your breasts, his breath cooling it. A low moan from you when he takes a stiff nipple in his hot mouth, finally giving it some attention. He twirls his tongue around it, teasing, before licking it right.

Your hips move involuntarily, rubbing against him through clothes all the while he sucks, kisses, grazes teeth. A jolt of electricity travels down to your core when he switches sides, underwear clinging to your sticky folds. You keen into him, pushing your chest out when he begins to suck a bruise under your breast. Your fingers dig into his scalp, tugging on his damp strands.

You discern his knitted brows and inclined back before tapping his shoulder. “Leon, stop.”

He halts the moment he hears you. The sight of a string of spit connecting his lips to your chest is obscene. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re hurting. You should lay down,” you say while standing up.

His eyes never leaving you, he gets off the bed as well. He seizes you under your arms, picking you up with ease. “See, honey? I’m fine. You don’t need to worry.” He doesn’t let you protest and nips at your bottom lip before sloppily kissing you, tongue claiming every crevice of your mouth.

“No, put me down!” you wail, kicking your feet in the air.

“Okay, okay,” he grins, setting you down on the floor. Your heated cheeks amusing him, he takes your hand and places it on the waistband of his sweatpants. “This is the only thing you need to worry about.”

You decide to be daring and slide your hand down, palming him through layers of clothing. “Fuck,” he huffs, closing his eyes and leaning his forehead against yours, big hands pawing at your backside, fondling your ass. Your hand slips past his briefs, touching him without any barriers.

“Oh, just like that,” he encourages you when you pick up a pace. His abs tightening, it doesn’t take long for him to fully get hard. “Ah, wait—”

“Hm?” You look up at him, just holding him in your palm.

“Need to get a condom, be right back.” He squeezes your ass one last time. “You better take everything off,” he teases before stepping away to get to the bathroom.

Second thoughts come rushing to your mind the time he’s undressing and grabbing a condom in the bathroom. Maybe, you shouldn’t do this. It’s only going to make it harder for the both of you. You admitted loving him and he wasn’t able to say it back. But he told you to stay, he needs you, wants what you’re able to give him. And you desperately need to give him all you have, mind and body, even if it means for a short time.

Because you know you will never be able to love like this again.

Your thoughts are interrupted when a packet of condom is thrown on the bed in front of you, hands gathering your hair on one shoulder to return messy kisses to your neck from the back.

Your back meets his pecs, his erection snug between your bare ass cheeks, you sigh softly when his fingers find their way to your clit, making your spine tingle. You hold on to his forearm, clawing at his veins as he gathers your wetness from your entrance, back to circling your bundle of nerves with now soaked fingers. His bandaged hand urges you to spread your legs more before finding place on your throat. He ruts his hips against your ass, breathing loudly while you whine out incoherent sounds.

He groans your name, drawing your attention up to his scrunched face. “You’re so good to me.”

“Leon,” you whimper as he drags two fingers all the way along your slit, pumping them inside. The way you stretch around his fingers distracts him from the rhythm of his hips, making him still. But you crave the friction, arch back your own hips to get him to move again. Your hand winds around and finds his aching hard dick, thumb stroking the precum all over his angry red tip. Your head rolls back over his shoulder and you want nothing more than to properly see.

“Leon, I’m close,” you moan and push his hand away. “I want to see you.”

“Anything you want, honey,” he pants in your ear, tip of his tongue tracing the shell of it.

You crawl to the middle of the bed, endowing him the sight of your glistening slit before laying down on your back, waiting for him to get on top of you. He parts your legs, taking a good look before smearing his tip on your folds, a mix of your wetness and his precum making it extra slippery.

“Please,” you manage to make out, one arm across your chest, another resting on his shoulder.

He rips your arm from your chest and pulls both your wrists above your head. “I said let me see you.”

He doesn’t let you fuss, fucking up his cock against your clit, allowing himself the bare feel of you for a little while.

He kisses your pout away before retreating to roll the condom on. You hiss as his tip breaches your entrance, legs trying to close on instinct, but he’s laying between them. He gets you used to the feel of him inside before you nod for him to move, slowly at first. Once your back arches and your hips shift, he gets the message to piston his hips faster.

He searches for the right pace just by examining you, what your face does when he tries something new, how your back arches, by the sounds you make. Not too fast, not too slow, he eventually finds an angle you particularly like.

“Too good for me,” he chants whilst thrusting, intertwining his fingers with yours above your head. You notice the absence of his ring but you don’t worry about it because you know he leaves it on his desk when he’s away for a mission, not wanting to lose it.

Your legs hug him around his waist, heels pressing him into you deeper. “Yes, yes, yes…” You keep singing his name when you feel it building up inside.

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last long,” he grunts, listening to the slaps of skin and your frantic cries of pleasure.

“Good ‘cause I’m so close.”

He takes that as a challenge, making sure you reach your high before him. He watches as you do, walls clenching down on his length, lips chasing his.

He’s cooing in your ear between your gasps, coaxing your bliss out of you. “I know, honey, I gotcha. You can let go.”

Your mouth opening in a silent moan as your orgasm ripples through you, hands trembling in his hold, legs trying to shut, your entire body quivering as you ride it out.

Irregular thrusts of his hips bouncing your breasts in front of him, he nestles his face between them, breathing in your scent. He noses the blossoming mark he left under there and moves slow, dragging it out as much as possible.

He sinks boneless on you, his weight feeling comforting rather than crushing. You embrace him as he softens out of you, leaving you feeling empty. He peels the condom off and lays on you for a while, head between your ribs, trying to catch his breath. You wipe away sweat from his temple, frowning.

“You’ll have to hop in the shower again.”

“Give me a few minutes,” he says, voice muffled and nasal. “And you’re coming with me, too.”

“Leon!” you shriek, playfully slapping his twitching bicep. “You shouldn’t tire yourself more.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter. I was gonna ask you to wash my back.”

After a few minutes, you drag him in the shower, helping him soap his back. He stands under the hot rain when you’re cleaning yourself with his body wash, eyes and hands wandering, groping here and there. You smack his naughty hands each time, can’t help but giggle. However, he’s tired and sleepy, so he’s only playing.

You offer to change his sheets but he insists on doing it in the morning and tugs your arm to your room, preferring to sleep in your clean sheets. He nearly falls asleep as you blow-dry your hair, waiting for you in the bed.

As soon as you’re snuggled up to him, he tucks you to his chest, chin on your forehead. Soft sighs tickle the crown of your hair.

“Can I ask you a question?” he murmurs, barely audible.

Your pointer finger stops drawing circles on his pectoral muscle. “Mhm?”

“After your mom and Cathy passed away, how did you survive? There has to be a reason.”

“I actually planned to end it all after both funerals. I told myself to just get past that week. It’ll all be over in a week. But there’s my sister. She came with me to help with Cathy’s funeral. Forced me to eat anything she could cook while I lived on autopilot. She was washing my hair in the sink when I realized I can’t leave her behind. It’s just not fair. She has a wonderful husband but a husband doesn’t mean forever— I mean, look at what my mother got. A deadbeat husband who left her with two little kids. My sister doesn’t have any kids. Worst case scenario, her husband leaves her and—”

He retracts abruptly to search your face, hand on your cheek to steer you to him. “So, you wrote a script again. With a sad ending.”

“My sister is my only family left. I don’t want her to live unhappily.”

“Hey, I’m your family, too. Why are you talking like I’m not here?” He presses a long, soothing kiss to your lips. His fingers tip your chin up. “Look at me. What do you have in that mind of yours? What kind of script do you have for us?”

You lie. “I don’t have one.”

He smiles. “Good. Because we’ll write one as we go on.”

(a/n: a very short part 2 will be posted here in a few days, keep an eye out for that. ty for reading!) >> read PART II.

#leon s. kennedy #leon s. kennedy x reader #resident evil #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy x reader #i forgot to post this on tumblr #leon kennedy smut

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daisynik7 · 9 months

Text

Double the Fun

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x f!reader x Reiner Braun

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Word Count: ~3.9k

cw: next-door neighbors Eren and Reiner, modern day au, all characters are mid-twenties, explicit language, p*rn no plot, smut – threesome, vaginal sex, anal sex, anal play, spit play, nipple play, cunnilingus, face-riding, blowjob, hand job (M/M), double-penetration, multiple orgasms from the reader, sex toy use (anal plug), cream pies (in both holes), Reiner is a bit of a perv and sniffs panties (just like how he sniffed Historia’s letter in the finale LOL), pet names (baby, sweetheart, sweetie), slight degradation (use of slut, cock slut, whore, and cock sleeve to address the reader), slight breeding kink, sex without a condom (assuming reader is on some form of birth control)

Summary: You’ve been having a bit of a dry spell recently with how busy you’ve been at work. When you finally manage to snag a date with one of your online dating matches, you’re unfortunately stood up, leaving you in a worse mood than before. Lucky for you, your two hot neighbors are more than willing to cheer you up.

Author’s Notes: Phew! This one is a doozy! Please make sure you read the content warnings before reading. This is filthy and shameless; I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! I LOVE Eren and Reiner together, idk, they just always scratch this everlasting itch I have. I’m still getting used to writing threesomes, so I hope this is okay! Also, this is my first foray into butt stuff and I may have awoken something inside me, LOL. MDNI divider by the loveliest @/cafekitsune. Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @batafuraikisu @neverlandlostchild @bloompompom @dprkento @a-listaire @man-knees @slvt-for-smut @antique-remains @aiyaaayei

part 4 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series

“Are you sure you don’t want me to sit, like, two tables away? What if this guy is sketch?”

You can spot the obvious concern in Pieck’s voice through the speaker of your phone, which is currently face-up on top of your vanity as you get ready. You finish the last steps of your makeup, inspecting yourself in the mirror, satisfied. “Don’t worry, I’ve got pepper spray in my purse in case he tries anything funny,” you assure your best friend. It’s been a while since you last went on a proper date. Pieck’s always been a worry-wart about you meeting strangers from your online dating apps, constantly reminding you to stay vigilant. Tonight is no different.

“You should at least let your hot neighbors know that you’re going out, so they can keep an eye out for you,” she suggests, throwing that in casually. Ever since you moved in a few months ago, she’s been rooting for you to hook up with either of the two men next door, Eren Jaeger and Reiner Braun. She’s met them plenty of times in passing and would much rather you date one of them instead of the countless of mysterious men on your current roster.

There’s no denying that they’re attractive. Eren with his long, dark hair, striking eyes, and toned physique. Reiner with his sharp jawline, broad shoulders, and well-groomed goatee. They also happen to be incredibly friendly towards you, always greeting you in the hallway with a genuine smile, asking how your day went or what you’ll be up to. They’ve invited you for dinner on several occasions, which has always been pleasant, sometimes leaning towards the flirtatious side. You’re sure they’re just nice guys, cordial neighbors looking out for one another. There’s nothing more to it than that, even if a small part of you wants there to be.

You step back from your reflection, checking yourself out once one more. “I’ll be fine, Pieck.”

“What if I can’t reach you? There should be at least one other person who’s aware of your whereabouts, right?” This is what binging too many true crime documentaries does. Still, you’re grateful for your friend’s concern, knowing it’s all out of love. You can tell she’s actually distressed about this, so you end up agreeing, mostly to appease her. She wishes you well before hanging up as you slip into heels by the door.

You tug at the hem of your skimpy black dress, hand motionless on the doorknob. It’s your first date in over a month. Work has been so busy that you haven’t had time for romance or sex. The variety of sex toys tucked away in your drawer has been your only solace these past few weeks. To say you’re ready for some real action is an understatement. You’re also incredibly nervous, afraid you’ve lost your groove. That’s why you’ve taken extra measures to fully prepare yourself for anything tonight.

With a deep breathe, you step out into the hallway, following Pieck’s advice. You knock on your neighbor’s door and Eren is the first to answer. His expression brightens when he realizes it’s you. “Hi,” he greets you, flashing that charming smile of his. He scans you up and down, taking in your appearance. “Wow.”

“Is that a good wow or a bad wow?” you grin, twirling for him.

He swallows hard, checking you out once more. “Definitely a good wow.”

It’s that extra boost of confidence you need for this date, so you’re appreciative of him. “Thank you, Eren. You’re always so sweet.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, smirking. “So, hot date tonight?”

You decide to be honest with him. “Yeah. It’s been a minute, so I’m a little nervous.”

“Don’t be. Any guy would be lucky to date you.” His eyes twinkle at you kindly.

You imagine Pieck screaming at you from twenty miles away, begging you to date Eren instead of going out with this random swipe right. Eren is simply a sweet guy paying his neighbor a compliment. There’s nothing more to it than that. Before you get the chance to thank him, Reiner’s deeper voice calls out from inside the apartment. “Who is it?”

Without taking his eyes off you, Eren answers with your name. Soon, the blonde joins him, jaw dropping when he notices you. “Fuck.”

Eren elbows him in the chest, to which Reiner mutters a strained apology. “Sorry. You just look amazing.”

The flattery is almost too much, cheeks warm with embarrassment, stomach fluttering. “Thank you.” Reiner is usually the more forward of the two, blurting out whatever is on his mind, though you’re not complaining.

Grinning, Reiner asks, “So, who’s the lucky guy?”

“Someone I met online. My friend said I should let my wonderful neighbors know my whereabouts tonight, in case I end up missing,” you explain casually.

“How morbid,” Eren chuckles. “We’ll keep an eye out for you later so that your friend doesn’t have to worry.”

“I would appreciate that.”

Reiner raises a brow at you. “Unless you’re planning on sleeping with him. We probably won’t see you if it does go well.” He hunches forward when Eren lands another blow to his chest, shutting his roommate up.

You giggle, agreeing with him. “No, you’re totally right. I’m going to stay optimistic and say that if I don’t come home tonight, that’s a good thing.”

“We’ll hope for the best, then,” Eren replies, beaming.

You turn to leave, waving farewell to them. Reiner yells out, “Have fun tonight! But not too much fun!”

~~~

You return to your apartment complex less than two hours later, heels clicking loudly on the tiled steps, feet heavy with disappointment. After taking a twenty-minute taxi ride to the restaurant you agreed to meet him at, you proceeded to wait an entire hour only to realize that you’ve been stood up. No text, no reply, no call. You’ve been made a fool, completely humiliated, the night and the rest of your weekend absolutely ruined by this asshole’s no-show.

It takes you a while to dig through your purse for your keys, patience already worn thin. Frustrated, you groan out loud, staring up at the ceiling. “Why me?”

In the worst timing ever, the door to your left swings open. Eren pops his head out, saying your name curiously.

Reluctantly, you turn to face him. “Hey.”

He comes out, dressed casually in sweats, hair wrapped in a messy bun with the few stray strands draping the back of his neck. “That was quick.”

With an unconvincing smile, trying to hide the shame that currently consumes you, you admit, “I got stood up.”

His demeanor changes instantly. The concern on his face is endearing, and when he drifts towards you, he reaches out, then drops his arm, unsure how best to console you without crossing any lines. “No way.”

You nod, sighing. “It’s true.”

“Fuck, I’m so sorry.” He steps closer to you, hesitantly placing his hand on your shoulder, testing the waters.

You smile at him, enjoying this simple touch of comfort. “It’s fine. It is what it is.”

The two of you linger like this, Eren gazing into your eyes, holding you. His palm is hot on the fabric of your dress, and for a split second, you wonder how pleasant it’d be on your bare skin. And maybe it’s your wishful thinking or your desperation for human contact after being rejected tonight, but you can feel the heat of a spark between you now. Before you let your fantasies drive you to do something unprecedented, you search your bag again, finally retrieving your keys. He lets you go, watching you shove them into the keyhole, unlocking the door. “Are you okay?”

In all honestly, you’re not, but there’s nothing him or anyone else can do about it, right? “I’ll be okay. Sucks that I got all dressed up for this, though. What a waste.”

He doesn’t respond right away, choosing his words carefully. “Well,” he starts, the faintest blush tinged on his cheeks. “It doesn’t have to be.”

You stare at him, heart beating faster, making sure you’re understanding him correctly. “Really?”

He clears his throat, licking his lips. “Yeah. Maybe we can get some use out of it.”

“We?”

As if on cue, Reiner emerges from inside their apartment, having heard everything. “Fuck that shitty asshole. You’ll have way more fun with us.” He stands next to his roommate, grinning at you.

This time, you do listen to Pieck’s voice in your head, yelling at you to go for it. To let these two alluring neighbors of yours take care of you the way you deserve. Already feeling better, you give them a coy smile, opening the door to let them in. “Okay, then. Come on in.”

~~~

It’s the first time they’ve ever been inside your apartment, though you save the formal tour for later. As soon as the three of you are inside, door shut, shoes off, they’re both kissing you fiercely. Eren faces you, slipping his tongue into your mouth, hot and heavy. He caresses your sides, squeezing the curves of your body through your dress. Reiner is behind you, grip just below Eren’s, firm on your hips. His lips brush delicately on the nape of your neck, groin pressed to your backside, the bulge protruding from his pants growing harder and harder between your ass cheeks. You moan into the kiss, pussy throbbing in your lingerie, eager to be touched by either man, by both of them. Why did you even bother trying to hook up with strangers online when the perfect matches were beside you all along?

Reiner chuckles, breath hot on your ear, voice low and rugged. “You’re really horny, aren’t you? All dolled up and ready to be fucked, huh?” There he goes again, blunt and straightforward and so fucking sexy, exactly what you need tonight.

And here is Eren, soft and gentle, committed to kissing you, whispering sweet nothings any chance he gets. “You’re beautiful. Such a gorgeous girl. So pretty for us.” Also exactly what you need.

You lead them into your bedroom, Eren flipping on the light switch, keeping his lips on you while Reiner strips out of his clothes, starting with his pants. Eren does the same, hoisting his shirt off, revealing his impressive figure. You attempt to slip out of your dress, but Reiner stops you. “Keep it on,” he rasps, down to his underwear now, boner more obvious, poking out from his briefs.

Eren pinches your butt, snapping the tight fabric to your skin. “We’re not letting this go to waste, remember?”

You nod mindlessly, brain hazy with lust, too eager to be fucked. “Fuck me,” you beg, spit smeared all over your lips.

They both laugh softly, walking you towards the bed. “So impatient, so needy,” Eren coos, positioning himself in front of you, toying with the hem of the skirt.

Reiner sits up against the headboard, propping you up on his lap, your back pressed to his muscular chest. “What’s the rush, baby?” he teases, licking a stripe behind your ear. “We’re going to take care of you. Right, Eren?”

Eren bites his lip as he works your dress up past your thighs until it’s bunched up at your hips, exposing your soaked thong on your wet cunt. “Oh fuck yeah,” he huffs, salivating. “Gonna make you feel so good. Make you come so fucking much.”

You spread your legs wider for him, a pathetic whine escaping your throat, more and more desperate by the second. He hooks his finger on the crotch of your panties, smirking at the string of arousal that stretches between the fabric and you. “So fucking wet, holy shit.”

He tugs it all the way off your legs, tossing it over to Reiner, who brings it up to his nose, taking a big whiff. “Such a slut for wearing these on a first date. Our naughty girl.” He lets your lingerie fall from his grasp onto the floor, sliding to the plush of your thighs, keeping your legs spread apart.

Eren dives in, spreading his wide tongue flat on your clit, moving it side-to-side, stimulating you into your first orgasm. Your knees twitch from the sensation, the pleasure rippling through you like waves of ecstasy. You turn your head towards Reiner’s, opening your mouth, pleading him for a kiss. He obliges, sticking his tongue inside you, slurping up your saliva, hungry for it. “You’re so fucking nasty,” he growls, reaching for the drawer beside the bed. “Bet you have toys hiding in here. Why don’t we have some more fun and play with them?” You whimper wantonly, keen on the idea of Reiner using whatever he wants on you to make you come again.

He finds exactly what he’s looking for: your precious anal plug, tapered on one end, heart-shaped gem on the other. When he pulls it out, he barks out a laugh, almost like he can’t believe his luck. “You really are a whore,” he whispers in your ear, sinister and wicked, about to have too much fun with this. “Did you prep yourself to be fucked in the ass? Be honest.” Even Eren pauses, peering up at you, curious.

“Yes,” you mewl, squirming with arousal, body tingling all over.

Eren’s chuckle reverberates against your clit, releasing you from his mouth to lap at your wet slit. “Good girl,” he muffles, collecting your cum on his tongue. “So perfect for us.”

The dynamic between them spurs you on, Eren playing the good guy, Reiner playing bad. Both of them work together with a common goal in mind: to cheer up their pretty neighbor from what would have been a bummer of a night. But already, you’re thankful that you were stood up; you’re certain now that this is the much better alternative.

“Eren, switch spots with me,” Reiner demands. “And you,” he says, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. “On your stomach.”

You both obey him without protest. Eren leans against the headboard with a dazed look in his eyes, licking his shiny, cum-coated lips. He smiles as you gaze up at him, wrapping your fingers around his shaft, stroking him. You open wide, tapping the tip of his dick on your tongue before sinking down on him until you’re too the hilt, swallowing him into the back of your throat. He cups yours cheeks, caressing you gently. “So fucking pretty with my cock in your mouth. My gorgeous girl.” You accept the praise shamelessly, relishing the distinct taste of him.

From behind, Reiner worships you, squeezing your ass cheeks, spreading them apart to ogle at your fluttering hole. Without warning, he hocks a frothy wad of spit directly onto it, teasing his thumb on the rim. “Fuck, baby,” he utters as you moan on Eren’s cock. “I’m gonna put it in now, okay?”

You nod, taking Eren deeper, your nose pressed to his groin, drool leaking from the sides of your mouth, bracing yourself. The plug is slick with lube as Reiner pushes it in carefully until the heart-shaped jewel is flush to your hole. He swears under his breath, marveling at the sight before him, cock pulsating in his fist. You stay like this for a while, adjusting to the toy inside you. It really did help that you prepared for this earlier.

“So sexy,” Eren murmurs from above you, staring on your backside. “You take it so good, sweetheart.”

“Like an obedient slut,” Reiner adds, using his thumb to push the plug the slightest bit deeper. He lifts your hips to position himself below you so that you’re straddling his face. “Can you come again, baby?”

“Of course she can. She’s our good girl,” Eren purrs, petting your head softly as you continue to blow him.

Reiner eats you out sloppily, different from Eren, who’s intentional with his every move. It sends you into another frenzy, pushing you closer and closer over the edge, especially when he begins playing with the plug, pumping it in and out of you slowly. You’re overstimulated with Eren’s hot cock throbbing in your mouth, clit swollen on Reiner’s tongue, and asshole puckered around the smooth glass of the plug. You reach your climax easily, gushing all over Reiner’s face, riding out your orgasm until you’ve completely soaked him in your juices. He drinks it all up, messy and greedy for every drop of you he can scour. He really is as insatiable as you imagined he’d be.

You release Eren to catch your breath, to which he tips your chin up to face him. “You’re incredible,” he says, the familiar twinkle in his eyes making your heart race. You paw at his chest, crawling up to meet him for a kiss.

Reiner quickly joins the two of you, not wanting to be left out, rubbing his hard cock between your ass cheeks. You kiss the both of them at the same time, all of your saliva mingling together into a hot, wet mess that you’re currently intoxicated by. After a moment, Eren pulls back. “Does our pretty girl want to get fucked now?”

“Show us how big of a cock slut you are,” Reiner grunts, circling the jeweled end of the plug, teasing your hole.

Eren helps remove the dress off you completely, hoisting it off your body. He stretches his arm towards the drawer. “Are the condoms in here too?”

You shake your head briskly, bringing his attention back to you. “I want it raw. Want you to fill me up.”

They both moan, clearly fond of your request, kissing you feverishly. Eren nudges your breast into his mouth, latching onto your nipple. Reiner sucks the skin all along your neck, leaving his love marks, growling, “You want us to breed you, huh? Want all this cum inside these tight little holes of yours. Oh fuck.” His voice is rough and husky, gradually losing his composure.

Eren’s remains tender, his breath soft on your bosom. “We’re going to breed you so good, sweetheart.” He shimmies down the bed, lying flat on his back, peering up at you with adoration. You straddle him, rubbing yourself on his shaft, needy for friction on your aching clit.

Reiner’s embraces you from behind, groping your chest, focusing on his roommate’s dick and your wet cunt gliding along it. He reaches between you and Eren, fisting his friend’s cock with fast strokes. “Look how hard he is for you. He’s going to fuck you so good. Make you cream all over the sheets.” Your pussy is sopping with arousal from the dirty talk alone, but watching Reiner touch Eren has you dizzy.

“Fuck, Reiner,” Eren moans, throat bobbing as he swallows hard. “That’s so fucking hot.” He lets his roommate jerk him off while you continue to grind yourself on him. Soon, he replaces Reiner’s fist with his own, cockhead glistening with precum. “Are you ready, sweetheart?”

Reiner moves to your swollen bud, tapping it with his thick fingers. “Oh yeah, she’s fucking ready. Come on, cock sleeve. Put it in.”

Without wasting another second, you line yourself up with him. Eren slides in smoothly, his entire length in you, pussy stretched around him perfectly. You whimper from the fullness, his cock to the hilt and the plug nestled in your backside. Reiner places his hand on your posterior, urging you to lean down so that your chest-to-chest with Eren, who kisses you passionately, remaining still inside you. “Eren,” you whimper his name, drooling into his mouth. He smiles against you, delighted at how fucked out you are for him.

Reiner adjusts his stance, hovering over you by planting one foot on the bed to prop his knee up, giving him enough leverage. He focuses on the plug, tugging it out just barely only to push it back in, repeating this several times, causing you to cry out in pleasure. Finally, he removes it completely, staring wide-eyed at your gaping hole, oh-so-inviting for his fat cock. “Look at that,” he croons, circling your rim with his finger, sensitive to his touch.

You want so badly to be stuffed full by both of them. In a trembling voice, you whine, “Please, Reiner.”

Laughing, he delivers a harsh smack to your ass, skin immediately stinging from it. He dribbles more of his spit onto you, teasing the tip of his dick on the rim. “Not yet, slut.” You can’t see him, too immersed in kissing Eren right now, but you can practically hear the wicked grin on his face, watching you squirm below him as he torments you.

Eren intervenes, annoyed with his friend’s behavior. “Come on, Reiner. Give her what she wants. She deserves it.” He nuzzles his nose to yours. “She’s been a very, very good girl.”

Eventually, Reiner relents. “You’re right. She’s a good girl. And good girls deserve to get fucked in both holes.”

You shiver at his perverse words, bracing yourself. At last, he guides himself inside you, filling you to the brim. It’s better than any fantasy you could dream of, the sensation so intense, tears begin welling in your eyes.

They start thrusting simultaneously, Eren pummeling your cunt from below, Reiner pounding your ass from behind. It’s messy and raunchy, their hands slippery all over your body from lube, slick, and sweat. The air surrounding you is laden with lust and desire. The collective moans from all three of you echo off the walls of your small bedroom, along with the squeaks of your mattress creaking under the weight of your vigorous lovemaking.

Reiner is rendered speechless now, totally concentrated on pumping his cock in and out of your fluttering hole, the only sound from his mouth being his ragged breaths. Eren slips one hand between you, his digits pressed to your puffy clit as he fucks up into your pussy. The other fondles your tit, thumb flicking your nipple until it’s perky. He continues to praise you, constantly musing about what a good girl you are, how perfect you are for them.

At this point, you’ve lost track of how many times you’ve come. You’re in a perpetual state of ecstasy, surrounded by the two hottest men in your life who are voracious for your orgasms. The sour memory from earlier has completely faded and all you can think about is the sweet bliss you’re currently indulging in.

Eren is the first to come, no longer able to endure it. His even thrusts turn erratic. “Fuck, I’m coming. I’m coming inside you sweetheart, oh fuck.”

You kiss him languidly, drinking up his moans as he floods your cunt with his load. Soon, Reiner swears loudly, announcing his own climax. “Fuck, gonna breed this slutty hole.” His cock swells, spurting his warm seed inside you.

You relax on top of Eren, who’s equally as spent as you. Reiner pulls out slowly, fixated on his own cum dripping out of you. “Fuck. Let’s see the other one, baby.” You lift off Eren, who almost seems reluctant to let you go. Both of them watch with hazy expressions as his creamy load spills out of you and onto his lap.

The room is musty with the scent of sex, the sheets messy and stained beneath you. Despite that, you’re on cloud nine, soaring high from having the nastiest ménage á trois with your next-door neighbors.

Maybe you should try getting stood up more often.

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