the sanctuary

“No, I told you multiple times my husband and I aren’t interested in this insurance deal, we’re already covered.”

He froze, breath hitching, eyes widening ever so slightly. Husband… Your husband. Warmth flooded his entire body, his loving gaze never leaving you as Leon tried to process what was happening. To think you felt safe enough to call him this, to think you saw this relationship as something permanent, something that would last forever… To think you chose him over others. It felt overwhelming — Delightfully overwhelming. And he could swear his vision blurred for a bit, eyes glassy from the few tears of joy threatening to spill. It was already a privilege in itself to have you for himself. To walk outside, hand in hand, for the world to see. Leon is the kind of guy that worships the ground you walk on, that celebrates the smallest of your accomplissements like you just found the cure of a deadly disease… That can’t believe you’re his, despite his flaws.

Starting something with Leon wasn’t the easiest ship you had to sail — Far from it. The nightmares, the insecurities, the traumas, the fear of being rejected, abandoned… Or worst. To see you die. So many obstacles that could have ruined everything, so many times he told himself he didn’t deserve you — Only for you to be ever so patient with him, all the time. To be there when he woke up from his endless nightmares, to show him he also deserved to be loved and to know what happiness felt like. Leon was a mess when you first met him — emotionally wrecked, completely devastated by countless losses. To him, it felt like you were the light guiding him through the dark, to a better place… To a safe haven. So many people would have fled, leaving him behind, a bit more broken, a bit more vulnerable — But not you. You were determined to make it work, because you knew he was the love of your life, as stupid as it sounds. You knew you would never love someone else as much as you love him, so you stayed. Through the storms, through the sleepless nights, through the tears and anger.

Throwing your phone away on the couch, you turned around only to be started by his presence. A hand against your heart, you almost let a curse out.

“Jesus Leon… You could have told me you were here,” you let out a chuckle, reducing the distance between the two of you until your arms could reach the back of his nape. “Hello handsome.”

He stood there silently for a moment, still stunned — Still wondering if it was all a dream after all. Yet his arms gently pulled you closer, his lips pecking yours a few times, slow and soft.

“Hello, Mrs Kennedy,” the words felt good on his tongue. So good he wondered why he didn’t ask you to become his wife way sooner. Your eyes widen, mouth opening ever so slightly as a grin stretches his lips.

“It’s just that…” you’re embarrassed, warmth creeping up your cheeks as you’re caught redhanded. Was it too early? Did you do too much? Should you have asked him if it was okay for you to call him your husband first? Hundreds of questions crashed in your mind, only for them to vanish at the sound of his laugh reaching your ears. “Stop playing dumb,” you gently slap his shoulder, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

“Your husband is dumb?” Leon teases, his fingers caressing the soft skin of your back, under your shirt.

“Oh zip it,” you scoff, eyes rolling in fake annoyance as you lift your face to kiss him, preventing him from embarrassing you further.

The kiss is tender, soft — Pure. Something that ressembles the love the two of you have for each other. It lasts for a few more seconds, his lips leaving yours almost reluctantly.

“Keep telling everyone I’m your husband Mrs Kennedy, because it will be a fact very, very soon.” He whispers, his warm breath fanning over your lips as your eyes flutter open to look at him. And for a moment, your heart beats so fast it feels like it’s about to burst off your ribcage. You want to cry, to jump everywhere, to tell everyone about it, to hold him tight until the euphoria passes — So many emotions all at once your brain struggles to process them all. You can feel your lash line watering despite all your efforts to keep those tears for yourself, as Leon gently grabs your face in between his large hands. Palms pressed against your cheeks, he kisses your forehead, the tip of your nose, your closed eyelids, your chin and then your lips one more time.

“I love you,” an other murmur, a promise. The three words Leon would sometimes struggle to say, and you never made him feel bad about it. Because you know how hard it is for him to love someone without being so afraid to lose them. Because you know there’s this little voice at the back of his head still telling him, from time to time, that he doesn’t deserve any of it. Those three words you sometimes hoped to hear more often, yet never blamed him for being who he is. How could you, after everything he’s been through?

And here they are — Those pretty tears rolling down your face, unable to stay still and hidden. But Leon kisses them all away as you sob silently, overwhelmed by all the love he’s giving you in this very moment.

“I love you too, Leon,” your voice is barely above a whisper, just loud enough for him to hear. Carefully, he places one of his arm on your lower back, his free hand grabbing one of yours, lifting it to his lips so he can kiss your wrist, then your knuckles.

“Want to give me a first dance, Mrs Kennedy?”

one thing with leon, is that he will remember every single thing you say. your car is doing those weird noises when you drive? the very next day he’s standing there in front of your car, hood open, dirty hands digging in the mechanic. you mentioned your favorite flowers being peonies? soon enough there is a HUGE bouquet of peonies sitting in your arms, almost too big for you. you hate the cold? if he’s inviting you over, he’s setting his thermostat to 22° celcius to make sure his place will be warm enough for you — even if he, himself, prefers lower temperatures. he just wants to know everything about you: your hobbies, your favorite movie, your favorite book, what you like or don’t… and will memorize them all.

confessing to you was… challenging, to say the least. between the fear of being rejected, and the guilt of falling for someone much younger than him, leon felt like it was selfish of him to make a move, when you had your entire life ahead of you. but what he couldn’t see were the gentle glances, your hand pressing his ever so softly, the hope blooming in your eyes the closer the two of you get. so when he finally managed to gather enough courage to tell you about his feelings, it felt like the sun would never stop shining above you. it was clumsy, he would sometimes stutter over his own words because even if he is leon s kennedy the dso agent, he’s also very vulnerable and completely unfamiliar with opening up. but you were patient… as you always were. holding his hands with yours, thumbs gently rubbing the back of them, eyes never leaving his face. you didn’t try to rush him, didn’t cut him half sentence even if he was struggling… you just let him be. showing him you will always listen to him, that talking about his own feelings was more than alright. of course he told you about how he probably wasn’t the best choice, that you most definitely had dozens of men waiting for the smallest opportunities… and that made you laugh. because, again, he couldn’t see how in love you were with him, since the very beginning. his worries all vanished when your lips met his in a gentle kiss… right after telling him you waited for this very day for the longest time.

leon could listen to you talking for hours on end. there’s just something so comforting, so soothing in the tone of your voice that makes him feel grounded — safe. makes him feel at home anywhere as long as you’re here. so anytime you would read a bit before sleeping, he would just get in bed with you. his arms wrapped around your waist, using your chest as a pillow, he waits for you to start reading aloud. and with one hand holding your book, the other gently stroking his hair, it feels like the world stopped just to listen to you.

every time you take a shower together, leon will ask if he can wash your hair. every single time. that man just can’t keep his hands off you, and he loves to watch your entire body relaxing when he gently starts massaging your scalp. he’s very gentle — very cautious not to let any drop of shampoo reach your eyes. he even goes as far as placing his left hand on your closed eyelids when he brings the showerhead to your scalp, getting rid of the shampoo with warm water.

leon loves watching you sleep. not in a creepy way… far from it. because his nights are usually very short and filled with nightmares, he’s one to wake up super early — and it soon became a little guilty pleasure of his: to watch you, peacefully asleep. far from your worries, from the tiny things that sometimes affect you in a negative way. the pad of his fingers gently trace the lines of your face — around your eyes, the tip of your nose, your cupid’s bow then your lips. it’s a gentle touch you can’t even really feel, because he wouldn’t want to wake you up.

you open your mouth, ready to protest, but all you can do is pathetically cough, palm of your hand against your lips to avoid any sort of contamination, the other resting on your stomach.

“just choked on my spit, nothing serious… and i’m always hot, sir, thanks for the compliment,” your voice is half broken, your eyes teary, and for a moment, leon really wonders if you think he’s that stupid. he scoffs, putting one arm under your knees, the other against your back, carrying you bridal style — something ridiculously easy for him — not letting you getting your way this time around.

“you’re going to catch that shit too, leon, seriously…” with your arms around his neck, you don’t even feel like fighting anymore, your eyes fluttering shut. you don’t know how you managed to drag yourself out of bed as you suddenly realize how in bad shape you really are.

“the world won’t end if i do,” he mutters, gently tucking you back in your shared bed — very carefully. “i’ll take a quick shower and come back soon, alright? don’t even think of moving a muscle,” there’s a soft smile stretching his lips, yet you know he’s being very serious about it… so you just nod, watching him lower the blinds until the room is dim enough for your eyes to rest.

the shower he took was, indeed, the shortest of his damn life, and even if your mind is slowly drifting away, you can hear him, in the distance.

it’s the gentle touch of his palm on your forehead that brings you back to reality, your eyes struggling to open. your nose scrunches a bit, fists rubbing your eyelids.

“and you said you were fine,” leon shakes his head, half amused, grabbing a damp washcloth to place it on your forehead. “if it’s not enough i’ll run you a cold bath, alright?”

“is that a threat?” you mutter, humor still peaking through. you always take hot baths — very hot ones, that have leon telling you even hell isn’t as hot… so the thought of a cold bath is enough for a shiver to run down your spine.

“you’re impossible,” your vision is slightly blurry, but you can swear you saw a smile on his pretty face… and it’s enough for you to smile too, your lips stretching ever so slightly.

“come on sleeping beauty, let’s drink a bit,” his right hand settles behind your head, gently lifting your upper body enough for you to drink from the glass of water he brought you, without choking. and you now understand how dehydrated you were, holding to that glass for dear life as you drink all of it in one go.

“jesus christ you’re no better than that plant you always forget to water,” leon snorts, putting the glass aside right before an other coughing fit sparks. realizing the position you’re in might not be the best, he piles two more pillows up under yours, laying you back down. “open your mouth for me,” and you can’t help but laugh, like he just said the funniest thing ever. puzzled, he looks at you cluelessly, but your laugh is short lived… since the flu strikes again, and you’re coughing all over again.

“what’s so funny?” leon still holds the cough drop between his fingers as you gently wipe the few tears threatening to spill off your eyes away.

“it’s just funny to hear you say this when i’m not kneeling in front of you, you know…” you still open your mouth nonetheless, visibly very amused, and you can see him rolling his eyes, placing the drop on your tongue… drop that soon disappears when you close your mouth again.

“rest, instead of playing clown,” he’s about to get up when you reach for his hand, a soft pout plastered on your face — the one you know he would never say no to.

“stay with me? please?”

there’s a moment of silence as he wonders if it’s the best thing to do, if he shouldn’t let you rest on your own… but he nods, and after getting rid of his shirt, crawls under the bedsheets. his arms wrapped around your waist, leon kisses the side of your jaw before resting his cheek against his pillow.

“i’m sorry if i ever get you sick,” you mumble, eyelids suddenly heavy. it’s always like this after all — leon just has to lay right next to you for your insomnias to vanish. you should be used to it by now, yet it always, always, amazes you.

“don’t think about it and try to sleep a bit. oh, and you’re getting a soup after your nap, and an herbal tea.” he knows you hate soups. and you just know there’s this infamous grin of his on his face as he tells you about your lunch plans.

“what are you, my fucking doctor…” you mumble, a soft annoyed huff leaving your lips.

“i missed you so much,” he’s almost pleading, neediness filling his voice as his face disappears between your thighs. he inhales deeply, face flush against the skin of your inner thigh — and you swear you saw his eyes roll to the back of his head. propped up on your elbows, you watch him peppering your flesh with hot kisses, his strong arms resting on your lower back and forcing a slight arch to make it easier for him.

“leon, stop teas—” the word dies on your tongue as his mouth kisses your puffy lips, stealing the air off your lungs. the back of your head hits the pillow, one of your hands grabbing a fistful of his ashy blond hair — and you can’t help but moan when he starts making out with your pussy. it’s messy and obscene: how his tongue laps at your entrance, not wasting a single drop of your juice, his eyes fluttering close like he’s savoring the moment. and if you weren’t already so fucked out, you would hear him growl ever so softly against your skin, his pelvis helplessly humping the mattress. it’s not his fault after all… you should know he’s feeling as much pleasure as you when it comes to this.

he’s eating you out like he’s starving, like his hunger is insatiable — sometimes kissing your clit and flicking it with the tip of his tongue, sometimes licking long strips up your slit, leon is everywhere all at once, his grip on your waist tightening when you try to escape him from the overstimulation. the delicious sounds pouring off your lips are music to his ears, and god it takes all he has not to cum in his damn pants right here right now… especially when your thighs start convulsing around his head, almost choking him in the process.

“i’m gonna cum,” you breathe, head spinning as your heels dig into the mattress, brows furrowing in an hopeless attempt to last a bit longer.

“come on my tongue honey,” he’s begging for it, burying his nose in your clit, lips and tongue working you out until you’re nothing but a sobbing mess.

your climax hits you like a freight train — spreading like a wildfire in your lower belly, stars dancing across your vision as you tilt your head back. a plethora of leon’s name tumble off your mouth like a waterfall, his eyes now fully open to watch you unravel... something he will never get bored of. helping you riding your high, he doesn’t stop until you’re pushing his head away — and even then you have to fight a little because he’s not ready to let go… yet.

“stop leon… that’s too much…” you sob, a shivering mess as you slowly lifting your head only to be met by the most sinful sight — leon s. kennedy, hair slicked back, lips swollen and red, chin glistening with your own arrousal.

“fucking hell,” you try to rub your thighs against each other as you feel a new wave of warmth peeking through… but he’s still there, gently nestled between the two of them. and the smirk tugging at his lips tells you everything you need to know — he’s not done with you. far from being done with you, actually.

with his hands gently grabbing your hips, he flips you on your stomach, face against the pillow, ass up and knees buried in the mattress. all you can do is gasp when his hands spread your cheeks just for him to have a better view on your pussy fluttering around nothing, a heavenly sigh leaving his lips.

“i hope you’re not too tired baby, because we’re not going to bed anytime soon.”

“but i love your wrinkles, though.” the softness in your voice stretches his lips ever so slightly, his eyes closing for a few seconds, relishing in the way your fingers gently touch his face through the mask.

“your turn to do it! and don’t poke one of my eyes alright…” there’s a wink punctuating your words, and soon enough, you’re handing him the skincare packet.

leon is extra careful, tearing the top of the packet before dipping his fingers into the bag. the tip of his nose scrunches — probably taken aback by the texture, or the amount of liquid in there… and the next step makes him feel like he’s about to go absolutely crazy.

how did you manage to do this so quickly when he’s struggling to apply the mask on your face? the sheet mask is all wrinkled and he almost ripped one corner as he desperately tried to adjust the part on your forehead.

“why’s your head so small,” he grunts, clearly a bit irritated because it shouldn’t be as hard as it is right now… but every time you say you can do it yourself if he wants to, he looks at you like you’ve just said the craziest thing ever. you can even see his brows furrowing ever so slightly as he doesn’t even answer, before focusing on his impossible task again.

leon 1, sheet mask 0 — after endless minutes of struggles, here he is, smirk tugging at his lips, proudly looking at you. “see, told you i could do this.”

“like a champ, on top of that,” the smile adorning your face is nothing of mockery, just pure love for the man standing right before your eyes — and your right hand gently drifts to his, thumb softly brushing the back of his hand. with your free fingers, you grab your glass of white whine, carefully bringing it to your lips to take a few small sips, and he does the same, clearly invested.

there’s tons of pillows and covers to keep you warm on the couch you’re sat on, snacks in bowls and your bottle of wine on the coffee table, one of your favorite movies playing on the big television leon bought for you a few months earlier… because you kept complaining about not being able to see much with your old tv. one of the many gifts he would treat you with, because you deserve them all — something he would tell you every single time he brought something home for you.

“so now… what are we doing?” leon’s eyes flicker from the tv to you, as you rest the top of your head against his shoulder, your arms wrapped around one of his biceps. and he almost regrets asking you this as mischief settles in your pretty eyes, the top of your body straightening up as you lay your legs on top of his, glass of wine resting in your palm.

“gossips, mr kennedy… so, what are you going to tell me about your partners?”

pete mcvries — words of affirmation,

pete is a man of words, and it’s no secret… and that’s what made you fall in love with him. he would write endless poems about you, reading them to you as he stands there right below your open bedroom window in the middle of the night, and you’d listen to him with nothing but sparks and stars in your eyes, leaning on your elbows, focused on him. then came the songs, with his guitar… because it always felt so much easier for pete to sing his love for you. pete also sometimes leaves sticky notes for you on the fridge if he wakes up before you, wishing you a wonderful day, telling you how much he loves you — he’s not one to say those words lose their meaning if said too often, because he wants you to know how much you mean to him.

billy stebbins — acts of service,

billy struggles with showing his emotions, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you — he’s not the first to reach out for a kiss or a hug, but will never deny it to you because he, also, feels good anytime you’re in his arms. he listens when you complain about your car making weird noises, about the snow making it hard for you to reach the house, about the lack of shelves in the kitchen… and those problems aren’t problems anymore as soon as the day after. billy takes care of everything to make your life easier, and never expects anything in return — he doesn’t even tell you he fixed your car or bought new shelves, you just happen to notice it and hes the happiest when you thank him with a kiss, and a few gentle words.

collie parker — gift giving,

collie loves gifting you things… as much as he can. it can be your favorite flower found on your nightstand, a book you mentioned during dinner waiting for you on the kitchen island… just trivial little things. every time he sees something that makes him think of you, he’s buying it — even if he has to save money for it, work harder for it… he will buy it. he’s also one to make jewelry for you — it is something that is pretty common where he’s from, and he’s definitely proud to see you wearing the hairpins, bracelets, anklets and necklaces he made just for your pretty eyes.

hank olson — quality time,

as long as he’s with you, hank always has the time of his life. you don’t even have to talk to each other, to do an activity together — it can be you two reading books on the sofa, you cooking and him cleaning, or just doing anything separately: as long as you’re in the same room as him, he feels satisfied. but what he enjoys even more is how you always focus on him anytime he explains something to you, instantly stopping whatever you’re doing just to listen… or when you two go on a stroll together, holding hands and talking about anything. he’s always looking forward to thursday nights as it’s your weekly date nights — going to the cinema or restaurant, stargazing, heading to the fair, going for a walk… hank takes care of everything, because everything is so much more special, when it’s just the two of you.

gary barkovitch — physical touch,

gary lacks tact, and he knows that… and he wants to do better, but it takes time. sometimes — most of the time — it’s just so much easier for him to reach for your hand, to stand still right next to you, his arm around your shoulders. he feels like he doesn’t even have to say anything, because that’s simply how he shows his love for you — and you know how much it means, for someone who doesn’t let anyone get too close. he loves when you wash his hair, when you pepper his face with sweet kisses, when you swing your legs over his when you two watch a movie on your couch. in fact, gary always feels so calm and serene every time your bodies touch, and this is what makes him realize he will do better, for you.

art baker — words of affirmation,

art has nothing but love, devotion and admiration for you, and he never gets tired of telling you how gorgeous you are, how lucky he is to have you, how smart and perfect you are. he’s celebrating the smallest of your achievements like you actually became president, and you can tell he isn’t overreacting — he’s genuinely impressed, and happy for you. he can spend hours looking at your pretty face, and it can be sometimes overwhelming if you’re feeling insecure about yourself… but art will make all those insecurities fly away in record times. in bed, he worships you like you’re some kind of god-like figure, a beautiful creature from an other dimension — something he sometimes feels he doesn’t deserve.

richard harkness — quality time,

pete mcvries,

that was worth the shot… but that isn’t working with him. but the thing is, pete can’t be mad at you for too long… because you’re his everything and it’s just too hard for him to be angry with you. so when, one night, the argument keeps going because none of you wants to let the other win, you get rid of your shirt, right in front of him. and that man lets out a sneer, because he can’t believe you’d think he’s that easy to get. what he does, on the other hand, is grab his own shirt to throw it at you gently, with a roll of his eyes and a “get your ass to bed, it’s late and we’re not going to sleep angry with each other”.

gary barkovitch,

arguments with barkovitch happen quite often, and it’s no surprise. with a personality like his, and if you add jealousy and inferiority complex to the mix, he’s just like a match waiting to set a fire. and it doesn’t help that this man is quite a freak himself… so it doesn’t even surprise him to see you lift your shirt when he’s literally pissed at you for doing the most trivial thing — probably just talking to a random guy, or a friend. worst, he instantly loosens his belt so his pants could fall on the floor, lowering his briefs to flash you in return — hell, if two can play that game, he will always win.

billy stebbins,

an other member of the tough club, who isn’t falling for that shit. it’s not that he doesn’t love the sight of you almost bare for him… it’s just that he’s too much of a gentleman to take advantage of the situation. so when you’re just standing there without your shirt on, he instantly turns around and crosses his arms against his chest, definitely a bit flustered even if he doesn’t want to admit it “I’m okay with arguing with you without looking at you, you know” — and just by the now calm tone of his voice, you just know he’s not that mad anymore.

hank olson,

what can i say, it always works. that poor man sees a pair of boobs and suddenly, his brain stops working. but unlike the others, he’s definitely doing something — and that is bolting towards you because he can’t help but stare and touch. and he could complain, you know… tell you it’s not okay to use his weakness against him, that it’s not fair… but the thing is he might be into this just as much as you, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. and if that means he has to piss you off a bit to get to see you like this again… trust him, he will do it.

richard harkness,

arguing with richard is… complicated. he’s so smart and composed that he will always find the right things to say, and it’s a bit annoying, you see? so when he’s in the middle of a whole exhibit about how you’re wrong for not sleeping enough at night, you just lift your shirt above your breast. poor richard’s face turns red as he’s now stuttering, his eyes everywhere but on you. he can’t even think properly anymore, unable to focus on his own thoughts when he knows you’re standing there, half bare.

collie parker,

pete mcvries,

pete would be surprised to say the least… and the first thing he’d do is ask you if you cancelled because you’re not feeling well, or because you’re embarrassed. if this is because of the second option, he’d make sure to tell you there’s absolutely nothing to be ashamed of, that it’s perfectly natural, and that he even feels relieved because having your periods means you’re in great shape. then he’ll ask you if you’re sure you want to cancel this date, and suddenly, you don’t want to miss this chance. Pete tells you you can choose anything you want — A simple chit chat at his place, a movie night, eating out, stargazing in the back of his jeep. it’s your night and he wants you to know that — you could ask for anything, really anything, and he’d give it to you.

gary barkovitch,

this man’s mind doesn’t work like anyone else — and he’d tell you it’s a shame because a good fuck makes the pain go away… gary has absolutely no manners and he doesn’t even try to hide it, which can be very funny if you’re into this kind of humour… or a huge turn off. either way, he’d be quick to say he was joking, but believe it or not, he was not. barkovitch would’t even think of paying you a visit because he’s just so self-centered he can’t really see anything other than him, but he still called you on the phone, just for a few minutes… few minutes that turned into few hours because you might be the only person that sees him as who he truly is — and that’s what he needed the most.

richard harkness,

similarly to ray, richard isn’t wasting a single second before bolting to the nearest convenience store. you guys only had a couple of dates, yet he knows everything about you (he’s obsessed, alright). your favorite drink, your favorite sweet, the little things you really enjoy. the gentleman he is called an uber for you so you didn’t have to do anything beside getting in the car and wait for the driver to drop you off. richard prepared the coziest spot ever — a fort with tons of comfy blankets and pillows inside, a tray with all your favorite foods, and your favorite movie was waiting for you. he bought you sheet masks, and when you asked him if he could also wear one so you wouldn’t feel alone… he obviously said yes. harkness also puts his hands into good use, and he gave you the most incredible leg massage ever.

billy stebbins,

All your friends? Gone, vanished. Some peacefully asleep in a random bed, some getting their guts rearranged by a guy they never met before yet flirted shamelessly with at the party. But that didn’t stop you from slipping in the warm water, back comfortably resting against the wall, messy bubbles massaging your sore body. Eyes closed, mouth slightly agape, you could almost fall asleep just like that, not missing your comfy bed and soft sheets one damn bit.

“I thought Olson would have dragged your ass upstairs.” The voice echoing in your mind is as clear as day, and without opening your eyes, you already know whose its owner is. Not a doubt, not even a glimpse of suspicion.

“And I thought you’d be fucking some random girl once again”, you sigh, almost too annoyed by his presence. You wish he’d go away, leave you alone once and for all — But he does the opposite, shamelessly joining you in the hot tub.

“Jealous, are we?” Billy mutters, face so close to yours you know blood would have risen to your cheeks at the sight of him. He smells like mint and citrus, refreshing scent that reminds you of the sea and the cool breeze of summer — Something so far away from his usual earth-like signature scent. Sober — He is sober. Not a single hint of alcohol, and the most beautiful dark eyes staring at your confused face.

“Can you… Back off?” You cough, eyebrows frowning. Too close — Definitely too close. He surely can hear your heart vibrating in your chest, threatening to burst. He can definitely feel the shivers running down your body, goosebumps adorning your skin. But he doesn’t move.

“Not so confident now, are we?” How you hate him for reading through you so easily. He isn’t even trying, hungry eyes devouring your pretty face and the birth of your breast.

You hate how popular he is with girls. How easy it is for him to have them wrapped around his evil finger, to make them do whatever he wants them to — Worst of all: He’s not even trying anything. They just come to him so naturally it made you feel nauseous. You hate how attractive he is, sharp jawline and shimmering eyes, tempting lips and beautiful ocean eyes. And as if it wasn’t enough, the Sun, barely awake, decided to gift him with the most beautiful glow — A God amongst humans, Perfection itself trapped in the body of a man you hate yet desire oh so painfully.

“You want me to move? Make me.” Lips brushing over the shell of your ear, teeth slowly sinking in the soft skin, a shy moan falls past your lips, eyes fluttering shut and trembling hand gripping his — Bigger, stronger than yours. You don’t remember when the others stepped out of the water. Nor when it shifted to just being the two of you, but it’s pretty safe to say that you don’t even care anymore. “I’ve wanted this for so long, and now you’re finally mine to take,” his words are intoxicating, spreading through your body like a wildfire.

“Look what you’ve done, silly little thing,” two of his fingers wrapped around your wrist, enough to bring your hand to the place you were so eager to discover. Eyes wide open, lips parted, you let the palm of your hand rub against his painfully hard cock, earning a low grunt from him, leaving you breathless.

Will it fit? Isn’t it going to break you? How are you going to please him if you can’t take it all? So many questions for a brain that can’t even process the amount of informations given, drowned in arousal and excitation. You don’t take the time to think, clumsy fingers lowering his dark briefs enough for his cock to spring free from its confine — It slaps against his stomach, long and thick, and for a second, you know he’s gonna ruin you. It is simply embarrassing how the simple sight of it makes you salivate, thighs rubbing against each other in a miserable attempt to soothe the burning ache in your lower belly.

“Can I…?” You breathe, yet don’t even wait for an answer. Careful hand fisting his cock nicely, so small and fragile compared to the size of his length. You want him to feel good, to jerk him off the right way, just for him. Desire to please, to do better than the others. 

But not everything has to be about him, and Billy, despite his oh so dark and teasing personality, is still a gentleman above all. He isn’t going to let you please him without doing anything, and this is the reason why his hand slips in the lower part of your bikini, spreading your wet folds with his index and ring finger, leaving enough space for the middle one to slide in between, reaching your swollen clit and flicking it slowly at first.

With one of your legs on top of his, and his free arm still around your shoulder, you can’t go anywhere. He has you trapped, and all you can do is take what he gives you, rewarding him with a twist of your wrist and a rub of your thumb on his slit. It sends jolts of pleasure through your body, the latter squirming for a few seconds right in time for your hips to buck against his hand.

“Please, inside,” you plea and he complies, two thick fingers dipping in your entrance and stretching you oh so nicely. It has your back arching, teeth furiously biting your lower lip to prevent any loud sound from falling off your mouth. They pump in and out of you, rubbing against that particular spot that has your legs shaking, stealing the air off your lungs.

“Feels good angel? Just like that, right?” He won’t look away. Not a damn second. He wouldn’t even blink, too mesmerized by how dazed and fucked out you look already. Your swollen lips, white eyes and the slight scrunch of your nose — Every single thing about you screamed beauty and grace, even in this specific moment.

And you nod, a bit too enthusiastically, dainty hands of yours jerking his cock and going up and down his length. Billy fucks your hands like he’s been wanting this for an entire life. He growls in your ear, free fingers fisting your hair and yanking your head back so his lips could crash on yours with a fever he didn’t know existed.

The sounds filling the air are heavenly — Spurts of water finding their way out of the hot tub and crashing against the ground, heavy breaths, wet sounds of messy kisses, moans and grunts having your head spinning so fast you wonder how you were still fully conscious. He makes you see stars, and the moon has never felt so close to you. It feels like if you stretch your arm just a bit, you’d be able to catch it—

Then, nothing. Emptiness and cold, unpleasing feeling. You whine when he pulls his fingers out of your warmth, you protest when he traps your wrist in his hand to make you stop. Tears rise to your eyes as you feel your orgasm vanish in the wind, your only comfort being the teasing smirk stretching his pretty lips. You open your mouth, Billy shushing you straight away.

“I know I know, that doesn’t feel nice, does it? But be good for me, get rid of that swimsuit and get on my lap, okay? Let me make it up for you,” He whispers, cupping your agonizing face in his hands. He could crush your head just like that — A bit of strength, a sprinkle of pressure, and that would be over. Just like that.

But you do as you’re told, so quick it only takes a few seconds for you to sit on his lap, arms wrapped around his neck — Fully bare, just for him, and his filthy eyes. The sight deserves a standing ovation. From the sunlight blessing your skin to the disheveled look plastered all over your face, and the subtle rub of your hips against his. Once wasn’t enough, so here he is again, pulling your hair to expose the sensitive skin of your neck. He kisses, bites and licks, making sure you’ll have the hardest of time hiding those pretty marks and knowing damn well how scarves and your own self don’t go well when paired together. And you let him, moaning his name at the feeling of his cock finally slips in between your folds, the tip of it bumping against your swollen bud.

“Please, put it in… I can’t wait anymore, please,” you whine, a broken sob leaving your lips. If you ever tried to look as composed as possible before, this determination of yours is now long gone.

“Anything for you, sweet heart,” Billy’s answer is quick to follow your request. With his two strong hands gripping your hips and lifting you up, he lets you fist the base of his cock, making it steady and easier for you to sink down, inch by inch.

The first ones are painful, and pulls a high pitched sob out of your parted lips, the stretch almost too much for you, the thickness of his cock splitting you open. When he was halfway through, you dared to ask if he was all in, to which he answered with a shake of his head, and a cocky smile. And when he finally bottomed out, you had to take a few minutes for yourself — To catch your breath and do your best not to fall apart. The most embarrassing part was how you came as soon as your ass touched his thighs, the curve of his cock perfectly nuzzled against a spot you never knew existed. It had your walls fluttering around his cock and your clit pulsating angrily, your eyes rolling at the back of your head and your nails digging in the flesh of his forearms.

“Come on, already? Don’t worry you won’t have to do anything, let me take care of that.” Billy coos, leaving open mouthed kisses down your jawline. His hips shift slightly, just so they could rock against yours. And with the sole strength of his hands, he manhandles you just like he wants you. He makes you move up and down his cock, sometimes slow and deep, sometimes fast and rough. Every time you sink down his dick, you gasp for air, throat dry and mouth wide open. Every time he lifts you up, a few inches of his cock still inside you, you moan and writhe, back arching into the void and skull lazily resting against your shoulders.

When he said you wouldn’t have to do anything, he wasn’t lying — You were so pretty and delicate, and he was so so strong, the contrast of your two bodies too beautiful not to be noted. Polar opposites. He uses you just like he wants, hammering the deepest spots in you, his gaze focused on your face, and the bouncing of your breast. It is so tempting he has to take a nipple in his mouth, just to taste, just to have you even closer to him. Your moans are music to his ears, and it just feels like you’ll make him go insane, the reality of this world too grey for a colorful rainbow like you.

“Should I make this pretty pussy mine?” Billy hisses, letting your nipple go with a wet pop only for you to nod your head. You don’t even know what that means, his words crashing in your mind like a foreign language, but you just want him to do it, whatever it is. “Good girl, you’re so good to me” he hums, pistoning in and out of you fervently.

Your body grows more and more limp, moans stuck in your throat and drool leaking off your mouth, rolling down your chin. When you try to tell him you’re close, only a few meaningless babbles make their way out, earning a mocking chuckle from him. He fucks you senseless, fuck your brain and everything you have to offer, his breathing erratic and his eyes glossy — A sight you can’t enjoy considering how lost you are. Balls slapping harshly against your ass despite the pressure of the water, scorching fingers gripping your hips so firm it will leave bruises.

“Cum for me again,” Stebbins mutters, the neediness in his voice not hidden anymore. That’s what makes you tip off the edge, hot waves of pleasure washing over your body, patches of color dancing across your vision. A plethora of his name falls off your tongue like a chant, trembling fingers pulling his hair and seeking for any kind of leverage — Anything that could tie you up to the reality you’re inked in.

And your pussy is so tight, velvet walls hugging his cock so nicely it turns into pain. In a low grunt, Billy’s only way to shush himself is to bite your shoulder — So deep it makes you gasp and sob, pain soon forgotten with the bliss of feeling his cum painting your walls white. He fills you so generously it drips down his cock and vanishes in the water, thick spurts of cum hitting your womb. It sends your mind in a frenzy, pussy pulsating and trying to get rid of the white liquid — But Billy fucks you through it, making sure not a single drop will go to waste, even when you whine, complain that it’s too much and you feel too sensitive.

He wants you to feel him there for days — for weeks. A reminder that you’re his, that no one else could fuck you like this. He wants you to come back to him, begging for him to do this all over again, your pretty eyes filled with tears, dainty fingers of yours gripping his coat. 

A gentle smirk stretches the corner of his lips as one of his hands gently find its way to your nape, grabbing it firmly, forcing you to look at him once more. A soft kiss, with its sole witness being the sunrise. 

“I need a minute”, you don’t even recognise your own voice, broken, weak — so different from your usual gleeful, sun-like tone. You stumble, legs faint, but his arms are always there to catch you — Always.

Ray watches you as you sit on his bed, worry plastered all over his face as you look like you’re about to throw up, to faint. And suddenly, he feels stupid. Stupid to be the reason of your sadness — To see you so fragile, shaken by uncontrollable sobs you can’t even try to hide. His heart sinks with yours as he truly realises the weight of his actions, the odds not being in his favor. He kneels on the floor, right in front of you, his hands gently grabbing yours to warm them up. You’re so cold, and for a moment, he can’t find the right words.

“I’ll win this, no one wants to win more than me”, even if he tries his best, you can feel the doubt in his own voice — And that triggers an other flood of tears from you. Because if he doesn’t even believe in himself, how are you supposed to?

Sweet Ray, who loves playing baseball, watching the stars as he lays on the grass — a hand in your hair, listening to you talking about your passions without getting bored a single second. You love him, oh so dearly, but you also know he isn’t the best bet out there — and it feels like a betrayal, to have this thought in your head, but maybe it’s a coping mechanism, to help you prepare for the worst outcome.

“We didn’t need this money, Ray… We didn’t… Please tell me you’re not going to do it…” you sob, heartbroken. Carefully, he wipes your tears away, cupping your face between his hands. His eyes a testament of his undying love for you — But he doesn’t answer. What would he possibly say to this, knowing you were right? How can he tell you he wished to be picked because he wants to end the life of the man that killed his father? Because Ray knew that, even if he won this, he’d probably never see you again. Not after murdering the face of the long walk.

He’s drowning in the beauty of your teary eyes, as you sit there, drained, exhausted. So he leans forward, his lips gently crashing on yours in a tender kiss. Still kneeling between your legs, his arms wrapped around your waist, his kiss slowly brings you back to him — Back to life. Your hands are on his shoulders as you kiss him back, desperate, begging for more ; and Ray is more than happy to give it to you.

Ray gets back on his feet, the mattress dipping under his weight as you spread your legs just for him. Inexperienced as you two were, it’s clumsy and awkward, it brings laughter to the both of you as he struggles to get rid of his shirt — But for a moment, you forget about all your misery. All that matters is him ; his pretty eyes lingering on your almost bare body, the taste of his lips on yours, and the touch of his hands on your skin.

Your hands on the back of his head, your fingers gently tug at his hair as his face disappears in the crook of your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses on your flesh, from your ear to your collarbone. It has your head slowly tilting back, exposing more of your skin, shivers running down your back — Ray’s right hand slowly pulling your panties off. Your clothes messily scattered on the floor, he lifts his head up to face you, forehead resting against yours.

“Tell me you want this”, he breathes, one hand on your cheek, the other exploring your body for the very first time. His pupils are dilated, heart thumping in his chest like it’s about to burst. You can’t take your eyes off him, lips meeting his in a sweet yet short kiss.

“I want you, Ray”, you whisper, just loud enough for him to hear. You’ve wanted this for so long, yet were never able to tell him about it — Scared of not being able to pleasure him the way you want to. And Ray respected you way too much; He wasn’t able to make the first move, the fear of hurting your feelings too fierce to handle.

“Tell me if it hurts or if you want me to stop”, A kiss on the tip of your nose, and his free hand slowly slips in between your legs, his thumb unexpectedly finding your clit, drawing small circles on it — Ray might be a virgin, but he does have very talkative friends, that told him everything he needed to know. It makes you gasp and writhe underneath, eyes rolling at the back of your head and nails digging in the skin of his shoulders; an unfamiliar feeling of warmth spreading in your lower belly.

His lips are all over your jaw and your neck, eyes locked on your pretty face — looking for any sign of discomfort or pain. He’s being extra cautious when he pushes his middle finger in, a soft moan tumbling off your mouth as your brows furrow in bliss. But as he’s about to add an other finger, your hand carefully grabs his wrist, and that makes him stop almost instantly.

“Did I hurt you?” Worry painfully takes place on his face as he tries to find what he could have possibly done wrong. But here you are, shaking your head, a smile stretching the corner of your lips.

“It’s you that I want,” the tip of your nose scrunches when he slowly pulls his finger off, a peck of his lips on your forehead enough to distract you from the discomfort of it and the sudden emptiness you have to face.

With his left hand flat against the mattress to prevent himself from falling on you, his other guides his cock between your legs, slowly pushing in you. You knew it would hurt — That’s what your friends told you, after all. Yet, it wasn’t that painful. It stung, and you felt like it was hard to breathe at first, but it didn’t hurt. Maybe because you were more than ready for him, maybe because he was making sure it was slow enough for you to adjust comfortably… Maybe both. And as you let a sigh of satisfaction out, eyelids fluttering shut, your heels dug in the mattress, so your bent legs could keep him there — Not like he was going anywhere anyway.

As Ray finally bottoms out, it takes everything in him not to cum. It’s overwhelming; your warmth, your velvet walls pulsing around his cock — Something his hand was — and never will be able to recreate. He has to focus on something else, or he won’t last long, and this is why his lips found yours naturally, his free arm wrapped around your waist, nestled in the arch of your back. And when you finally open your eyes to look at him, after a few more seconds, he understands your silent signal.

His thrusts are, at first, a bit messy — Hesitant. He’s so scared of hurting you, of being unable to give you the first time he deserves, that he’s unable to focus on his own pleasure; Yours being his priority. And even if his moves are clumsy, you don’t even notice it — Because it feels good. So good you can barely keep your eyes open, yet you needed more.

“Faster, please”, you whimper, clinging to him, hands on his shoulder blades. Breast pressed against his torso, face hidden in his neck — You’re so closed to each other it seems you’re one.

Ray drops to his elbow, reducing the distance between the two of you even more, and soon after, he’s pounding into you just like you asked him to. His thrusts become more precise, his hips finding that special angle that has your toes curling and your head thrown back. You’re a moaning mess under him, and God does he find you gorgeous, like this — Back arched, lips parted, eyes barely opened. The soft groans he lets out fan over your beautiful face, not even trying to be quiet anymore.

“You’re so so good”, he whispers in your ear, knowing he’s close, “I love you”, his sentence ends with a kiss on your lips, and suddenly, you’re gone — The coil in your stomach snapping so furiously it pulls a high pitched moan out of your throat. Stars dance across your vision as hundreds of waves of pleasure crash over you, burning your skin in the most blissful way.

Your legs are shaking, your embrace tightening as Ray helps you ride your high as much as he can — But he, too, is so close. He wants to pull out, but he just can’t : With your heels digging in the small of his back, keeping him firmly in place, he has no other options but to cum inside… His hips are stuttering, and a second after, he’s painting your walls white, a low groan escaping from his mouth.

Both breathless, he gently rests his cheek on your breast, making sure not to put his entire weight on you, both arms now around your waist. Your hand stroking his hair, you don’t want to move for now — Neither of you want to. But suddenly, reality makes its way back to your brain, and you’re doing your very vest not to burst into tears once again. You have to be stronger; For him. For the both of you. And maybe, maybe Ray will be able to win this, because what is stronger than love, after all?

“I love you, Ray…”

Truth is, you weren’t even laughing that much. You sure were having a good time, but Barkovitch being Barkovitch, he’d see things in an over-exaggerated way. Things that weren’t even things in the first place… Things that made him see red.

So when he grabbed your hand without saying a word, forcing you to follow him through the maze that was Olson’s house, almost making you spill your drink all over the floor, you knew something was wrong. Too many people in the hallway made it hard for the both of you to reach the destination Gary had in mind, music ringing in your ears, the strong smell of sweat, hormones and beer almost too overpowering all of a sudden.

The two of you locked in the bathroom, he finally turned around to face you. Oh. Oh. That fire in his eyes, the way his fists are shaking from anger, his threatening gaze — You knew them all too well. And when you felt like you were about to ask him what the hell was wrong with him two minutes ago, your throat suddenly felt so dry.

“Want his dick in your mouth?” He spits, the dangerous tone in his voice intertwined with disgust as he stares at you like a wolf hunting his prey.

“Gary, he’s just a friend and you know that,” you gently drop your cup on the floor, making sure it’s far enough for you not to accidentally step on it.

Your answer has Gary laughing — Not that sweet laugh you’re used to, one that sounds almost like a warning. One that tells you he isn’t buying it, that tells you he thinks you’re messing with him. All it takes for you is two steps, and you’re right in front of him, fingers gently tugging at the collar of his shirt. The ghost of your lips hover over the soft flesh of his skin, leaving butterfly kisses here and then.

“You know it was always you, always will be”, you whisper, and for a moment, you think you’ve won. You can almost feel the tension leaving his body, his eyes softening at the sight of you… Until he grabs you by the waist, turning you around so his hips can crash against your ass.

Dizziness spreads across your mind as you’re now trapped between him and the sink, your hands gripping the porcelain to keep you steady. It has your thighs rubbing against each other in a desperate attempt to soothe the arousal that slowly grows in your lower belly, shamelessly begging for more.

“Eyes on the mirror, don’t close them, don’t look away or I fucking stop.” his right hand cups your chin, forcing you to look at the reflection of the both of you. And it’s only when he sees you nodding, your head almost detaching from the rest of your body, that he releases your face, hands clumsily unbuckling his belt.

And oh how excited you are. Maybe because, most of the time, it’s usually you in charge, him doing whatever you want him to do because he just wants to be good for you — You’ve never thought you’d see this side of him. Hell you didn’t even know he had a side like this in him, waiting to snap. You don’t even care people outside could potentially hear the both of you; All you want is him, and you simply can’t ask him to drag you to his place… You’d never be able to wait any longer.

It’s messy and gauche, the way he lowers his jeans and briefs before lifting your cute little dress past your hips. How he pushes your panties to the side, one hand around the base of his cock, the other fisting your hair — But he just looked to good, strands of blonde hair hiding parts of his face, eyes locked into yours through the mirror.

“Gonna ask your little friend if he can make you scream like me”, Gary snears, his teeth sinking in the flesh of your shoulder. One single hard thrust and he’s bottoming out, the tip of his cock nuzzling against that spot he would normally struggle to find. You feel knocked out, your legs about to give up on you as a sweet moan escapes your parted lips — But he’s not having it. With an arm around your waist, he’s holding you against him, forcing you to stay still. And when he sees those pretty eyes of yours rolling at the back of your head, he’s had enough already, pulling out of you.

And you’re a mess, trying your best to keep your eyes where he wants them to be, begging for him to fuck you, to make you feel good because you know no one else could. You can hear him snort, his hand a bruising grip on your hip.

“Eyes on the fucking mirror.” It’s not a warning anymore, but a threat as he thrusts back into you with a strength you’ve never witnessed. And it takes everything in you not to close your eyes, vision blurred by tiny little salty tears as Gary angles his hips, pulling the most erotic sounds off your throat, his pelvis snapping against your ass in the most obscene way.

And he’s enjoying it — The distress in your eyes, the way your velvet walls tighten around his cock in a desperate attempt to milk him dry, your mascara dripping down your face and ruining it… Just for his eyes to see. His free hand finds your clit, two fingers flickering it just the way you taught him to. This paired with his never ending thrusts turn you into a moaning mess, knuckles turning white as you’re holding on the sink for dear life.

“Gary— fuck, please I’m so close—“ you struggle to talk, voice breaking halfway through, legs dangerously shaking as you can’t do anything but take everything he’s giving you. You know your hips will be bruised tomorrow from relentlessly crashing against the sink, you know you’ll have a hard time walking because of how much he’s wrecking you, but this feels too good and you’re too lost to even think about it for more than two seconds.

“Say my name. Say it,” his breath is laboured, gentle groans punctuating his sentence as he’s now struggling to not cum right here, right now. He watches your face as you reach your climax, a plethora of his name tumbling off your mouth as your vision goes white and your back arches against him. It’s a blinding orgasm, one you never truly experienced before, and one that will remain in your head forever — and Gary is soon to follow, cumming inside you in a deep grunt. You can barely him swearing, his two hands back on your hips as he gently rests his forehead between your shoulder blades, his thrusts slowly coming to an end.

It takes a few minutes for the both of you to come down from your high, Gary’s arms now wrapped around your waist, keeping you close to him. His face is hidden against your shoulder, as he refuses to pull out for the moment — Because it’s where he feels safe, in the warmth of your being.

“Don’t make me jealous again, I hate that,” he didn’t mean to, but this sounded just like a plea — a weakness he’d always try to hide. So you turn your face to see him, gently cupping his chin so you could look at him, and the other way around.

“You know how much I love you, Gary Barkovitch, right?”

pete mcvries — football,

pete is strong, built like a damn truck, and fast. the horror in his opponents’ eyes as he steps into the field at the beginning of every match is definitely worth it. as a quarterback, he’s one hell of a beast, and a good leader above all: the one to cheer his teammates up when they end up losing a match (which is not so often though), to listen to his teammates’ distress when they feel down. he’s someone everyone in the team looks up too, earning the respect of his own coach. one of your favorite thing to do is to steal something from him only to start running away — because you know damn well he’s gonna chase you, before wrapping his arms around your waist to lift you off the floor and get his things back. it’s always so much fun because… you know he’ll always catch you, but he’s trying his best not to run too fast to let you think you could escape him for once.

gary barkovitch — horse riding,

it’s impossible for gary to play a team sport, for many reasons — that man can’t control his anger or his frustration, and would have none of these “we lose as a team” shit… if someone messes up and make them lose, can you just imagine how fucked up his reaction would be? but when he’s around horses, it’s a different story. all by himself, when no one is watching or judging him, gary becomes a whole new person — he keeps that secret to himself because he doesn’t want people to make fun of him for “doing a girly sport”, but every time he feels sad, nervous, angry or all sort of negative emotions, he heads to the stable: which means almost every day. so when you started dating him, and when he knew he could trust you, he brought you there, to his very own safe place. he was, of course, a bit jumpy, never taking his eyes off you to watch your expressions — only to be relieved when he saw how thrilled you were to meet his horse. it’s a new barkovitch you get to meet that day: collected, calm, a gentle smile stretching the corner of his lips. a barkovitch you’d never let down.

billy stebbins — boxing,

billy isn’t a man of words. so the only thing he found that could release all the tension and frustration, was boxing. hitting a sand bag, boxing against someone in the ring — that’s what keeps him from exploding. you met him when you wanted to give boxing a try, just because you were curious about what it felt like, and stebbins needed money, so he was working as a part time coach. and if you weren’t really into it after your first try… you’d always come back, just to see him. he was, at first, far from being nice: telling you you’re not doing things right, rolling his eyes as you’re struggling with “simple moves”. but his shell started cracking when he realized how worried you were, every time he had a match, how you’d check the bruises and scars on his face, making sure to treat his wounds because he wouldn’t do it on his own. it’s not like he didn’t try to tell you he was fine — but you would always, always, check on him anyways. weekly boxing sessions turned into something more, something he’d eagerly be waiting for, until he finally asked you out, after months.

richard harkness — fencing,

As soon as you turned your head to the side, you were met by the deadliest glare of his, annoyed expression painted all over his handsome face. Covering the microphone with your right hand, you lean forward, back flush against the headboard. A gentle kiss on his pouty lips, enough for him to stay still, you hope.

“Come on, don’t be so whiny. This call will be over in a minute”, you whisper in an attempt to soothe things down. But all you get is a disgusted grunt, along with a roll of his eyes.

Stebbins could tolerate Garraty, sometimes. But definitely not when he was so annoyingly clingy with you. Since the first time he saw him prancing around you like a lost puppy, he decided he wouldn’t have the patience to bear with his shit —again—. It’s not like he didn’t trust you — It’s the opposite. Billy was absolutely blinded by his love for you, letting you do whatever you wanted. Going to parties without him, meeting with your friends and heading to pubs when you had something to celebrate. But he didn’t trust Ray the slightest. Not one damn bit. There was something about his attitude that made the alarm rang in his head more than once, and he would have none of his bullshit. If he was so blind, he sure wasn’t stupid. And it was pretty clear Ray wanted more from you than you could ever imagine. More than you wanted to admit.

Closing his book and flipping it over on his bed side table, Billy stretched his arms up, before getting rid of the blanket covering his legs. In a matter of seconds, he was laying on his stomach, nicely sandwiched between your legs and resting his cheek on your belly. No bad intention in sight, right? Just a hug, with his arms wrapped around your waist and his eyes closed. A well deserved nap, just until you end that stupid call.

But your conversation with him would never end. And he was bored. In an attempt to have your attention back on him, he gently kissed the exposed skin of your stomach, three or four times… But it wouldn’t work. That sure made his blood boil and the gates of hell were nothing compared to the wildfire spreading through his body. All he got was a gentle hand ruffling his messy hair, but other than that… Nothing. Fucking nothing. It has him gritting his teeth, bringing your body closer to his, burying his face in your tummy.

And suddenly, it creeped up his mind — It wouldn’t hurt to do that, right? Just a bite. Because it’s true, you look so pretty like this, with the nightgown he bought just for you yesterday. Nightgown slightly lifted up, exposing your flesh and your panties to the cool air of the room. A gentle bite, just to taste you, and he will leave you alone…

You gasped at the sudden attack, eyes wide and palm of your hand covering your mouth. He could hear a ghost of “hey, you good?” from Ray, and that’s all it took for him to get all thrilled.

“Yeah sure… It’s just my roommate’s dog. He’s being mean.” You mutter, glaring down at him. The grip of your fingers on his hair tightens and your eyebrows frown — A warning that Billy pretended not to notice, too focused on the little biting mark his teeth left behind. After all, you weren’t even close to be scary. So cute you’d just look like a grumpy hamster in your most heated moments.

The innocent look plastered on his face should have been enough for you to realize he was up to mischief. So it wouldn’t have been a surprise for you when you felt his slender fingers gently pushing your panties to the side, slow and calculated. Your hand hopelessly trying to push him away would do little to make him change his mind. And not even your silent pleas would do something anyway. It was all about the panic in your eyes, and it was all too delightful to end so soon. Two can play that game, and Stebbins wasn’t one to lose. He lifted his head up, index finger pressing against his lips — His nasty way to tell you to keep quiet.

“Don’t hang up.” He mouthes, glowing eyes boring into your soul as his fingers spread your legs open. There’s something about that particular look on your face — Something so arousing he feels himself growing painfully hard in a record time. But it’s all too much fun, to watch you struggle to speak, to keep the conversation going like he isn’t in between your legs, eating you out like a starved man.

The tip of his tongue runs down your slit, poking at your entrance only to lick a long stripe back up, mouth latching onto your clit. It has your eyes rolling at the back of your head, palm of your hand pressing against his skull to keep him as close to you as possible. And if it isn’t for his kitten licks all over your folds, it’s the way he literally makes out with your pussy that drives you crazy. It’s embarrassingly loud and sloppy, mixture of his spit and your juices smeared all over your cunt and covering it in a glistening sheen of filth — There is no way that guy wouldn’t hear them, the sinful noises it makes, shameless and nasty.

You can barely process what sweet Ray tells you. All you could do is try not to be loud, muffle your moans and keep your composure — The latter crumbling down each time his tongue flicks your swollen bud. It was simply too bold of you to assume you’d get out of this without a fight. How could you, when he knows you by heart. Where to bite and how to kiss you down there, the right amount of pressure on that spot to have you unraveling right before his eyes. He knew you’d mess up one way or an other, and he was living for it.

“Maybe we should… Go to the library tomorrow and find some—fuck” the whine that left your mouth, desperate and high pitched, was enough to leave Ray breathless, silent. He isn’t stupid and knows something is up. So when he stutters a bunch of incoherent words, asking if you’d like him to call you back later, you’re quick to agree. So quick it almost sounds ridiculous.

“I’ll call you back”, You breathe, the last attempt to keep yourself collected flying off the window.

It has the most devilish smile rising to his lips, staring up at you as you carelessly drop your phone on the bed. With the goal to make you cum with his tongue only, things are getting absolutely messy on his side. And you, poor thing, can’t do anything but let him, ankles now locked around his head and body arching against the headboard.

“Fuck Billy— right there”, and you don’t have to tell him. He knows. He knows exactly what he’s doing. With your eyes closed and your mouth hanging low, with how messy your breathing grew and how desperate your moans sound, he’s well aware that it won’t take long for you to reach your high.

His tongue has electricity rushing through your veins and goosebumps dancing on your skin, wet muscle collecting your juice to drink it all. After all, he’s been pretty clear about this — He hates wastes. And there is no way he would let it drip down your inner thighs only to land on his clean sheets anyway. You taste too good for that.

And if you’re having a good time, Billy is almost as euphoric as you. Groaning at the sweet taste of your pussy, moaning when you pull his hair and suffocate him against your cunt. He could literally cum on the spot, intoxicated by the sounds your mouth makes and the way your body is hopelessly trying to get more of him.

With one last lick of his skilled tongue comes salvation, and the blinding pleasure that follows close behind. The knot in your stomach snaps — So hard it has your head spinning and your body tensing. It makes your pussy leak from the generous amount of fluids caused by your orgasm, a strangled moan falling past your lips as you hold on the crumpled sheets for dear life.

There’s a firework in your stomach as he helps you ride your orgasm, his tongue flat against your folds, slipping between them. And when you come back from your high, you gently pushes his head away, shuddering from the excessive touches of his on the most sensitive part of your body.

But he’s greedy. So greedy you’re literally crying in his arms because of how overstimulated you are. Tears rising to your eyes and staining your cheeks, you hopelessly try to squirm away from his iron grip, the hands that keep you in place effortlessly.

“Billy, stop— it hurts”, you sob, teeth sinking in your lower lip to hold these hiccups back. And when he finally lifts his head up, glistening chin and swollen lips, you let out a soft sigh of relief. Sometimes, you forget it’s half and half. One for you, one for him. If you love it when he goes down on you… He loves it even more. It’s his special treat, something he’d never get bored of.

“That guy is so annoying. He has the nerves to call when I’m spending some good time with you. Hope he got the message.” He hisses, going back to his previous position like he just didn’t pull the most amazing orgasm out of you. With his cheek against your stomach, his thumbs press gentle circles on the small of your back to soothe you down. Now that your heart doesn’t threaten to break free from its bone jail, you can let your legs fall back on the mattress, hands slowly finding their right place in his hair.

“Come on he isn’t that bad.” You chuckle. And suddenly, you felt your heart dropping off your chest as your eyes landed on the screen of your phone. The call was still ongoing, and Ray heard it all, willingly.