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violetrainbow412-blog · 1 year

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Between your arms [S. R]

Spencer Reid x wife!reader

word count: 1.8k

summary: after a hard day Spencer returns to his safe place

A/N: I just finished the third season, imagine it's somewhere in there. And DAMN, with each passing chapter I fall more in love with this man

When Spencer got home, he was completely exhausted. The case had been delayed longer than expected and the fact that the jet had technical problems didn’t help in the least, so the total delay was 5 hours, so it was already late at night when he opened the door of your apartment. He strongly wished that you weren't awake or he would feel guilty and that concern dissipated when he noticed that you weren't lying on the couch as he had found you so many times.

Spencer needed to shower so he could somehow wash off the stress of the case and wash off the dirt he'd picked up during his stay in the woods. Fortunately the shower was far enough from the room to go unnoticed and he took his time, enjoying the hot water running all over his body, considerably relaxing the tension he had in his muscles. Once he left, Reid took a cotton pajama that he had packed in the suitcase, it had colored stripes on the white fabric and you had given it to him for a birthday many years ago. The fabric was already worn by time, but he loved the calming feeling it gave him, and the smell of your favorite fabric softener on it made him feel like he was right at home.

When he opened the door of your room he found you in bed, sleeping so peacefully that he felt some envy, but at the same time he smiled tenderly. He and you were very different when it came to sleeping: he couldn't fall asleep if he wasn't tucked in, he had a hard time doing it alone, he constantly woke up to go to the bathroom and he tossed and turned throughout the night. You, on the other hand, could sleep soundly as soon as your body touched the mattress, fully exposed, and you would stay in the same pose on your left side unless he asked you to reposition yourself. You slept on the inner side for reasons of practicality, because when he was late or had to leave due to an emergency it was easier for him to jump out of bed, and you always did it hugging a stuffed dog that Spencer had won for you in a fair.

Many people would think that getting married at 21 was crazy and even a couple of gossip told you that you were making a mistake or that it would only take a few months for one of you to file for divorce, but four long years had passed since then. Not everything was perfect, because there were arguments as in all marriages, and to that we had to add the constant stress that Spencer's work had, not only for him but also for you. Although, somehow, you had made it work and he always found the time to dedicate himself only to you, because he knew that you deserved it. You had a good position in a real estate company, nothing risky, and with hours that were always respected.

You two preferred not to think about it, especially him, but there was a degree of codependency in your relationship that you hoped wouldn't escalate into something sick or dangerous. You had had a difficult life, Spencer continued to have a difficult life, but little by little you two opened up to each other and the communication helped comfort what sometimes still tormented you. Reid had saved you from committing many idiots and if it wasn't for you, he didn't know how he could have faced situations or ghosts from his past. You were his reason for living and your apartment was that safe place where he could isolate himself from the whole world and live his own utopia. With you there was no suffering, there were no traumas, no crimes, no coworkers who ignored him... and when that existed, you were there to hug him tight and tell him that everything would be fine.

Honestly, the fear of becoming a burden plagued him frequently, but the two of you were trying to work through your own insecurities so that you could carry on your marriage in peace.

As soon as he felt his body touch the surface of the mattress, he moaned calmly and finally allowed himself to feel all the tiredness of the day, sure that it no longer mattered because he was in the right place to rest. He stayed like that for a couple of seconds, enjoying the softness on which he was lying, until your gentle breathing next to him caught his attention. He hated waking you up during the night, but now more than ever he needed to feel you close and he considered that with such a heavy sleep you had his touch would hardly be noticeable. He moved enough to be able to wrap his arm around your entire waist and bury his head in your skin at the nape of the neck, but against all odds he heard you inhale heavily as a sign that you had noticed the grip.

“Spence?”

"I didn't want to wake you up" he apologized, as he kissed you on the shoulder to mask his remorse, although to be honest a part of him was very grateful to be able to talk to you.

"I wasn't asleep" you lied uselessly, because your voice betrayed your state of sleepiness. Careful not to let him let go of you, you turned around to face him and he smiled from ear to ear when even in the dark he noticed that you were smiling weakly at him "Did you just get there?"

“Things got difficult. We came back by train”

“Oh…” you hummed sympathetically. Your hands traveled deftly up to his face and you stroked with your thumbs, watching him turn to putty between your fingers. “Did you even have dinner? Let me make you something"

"No, no, darling," he hastened to say, stopping you from getting up to go to the kitchen. Honestly, hunger was the least of Spencer's worries at that moment, his mind was longing to receive your body heat and with some luck multiple kisses on the face and lips "Just stay here with me"

If in normal circumstances it was already difficult to deny your husband something, it was even worse when he whispered in that pleading tone, so you simply nodded and snuggled closer against him. His long golden hair tickled your nose and you realized that Spencer had used your conditioner again, even though he had promised not to do it again, but you didn't mind at all.

"You feel good?" you asked softly, as one of your hands traveled to the back of his head to stroke his head and you maneuvered your other arm for him to use as a pillow.

He was very protective as a husband, perhaps motivated by the fear that some of the horrible things he saw daily at his work would happen to you, and he constantly looked out for your well-being, but on those occasions when you took the time to pamper him after a terrible day, he swore that it was you who took care of him from the lurking monsters.

"I feel better now that I'm here," he confessed, the words slightly muffled by his lips on your skin. "I missed you."

"Oh, I know you did" you joked, now a little more lucid than at the beginning of the conversation. You were very interested in him being able to fall asleep, because once he did it, all you had to do was close your eyes to imitate him, and how to blame you? With that strong grip and his legs intertwined with yours, you felt total tranquility "I missed you too”

Your hand continued to untangle strands of his hair in an attempt to relax him and you stayed that way for a few minutes, until he broke the silence. You didn't understand at first, so you gently whispered in your ear for him to repeat it.

"I missed our nine o'clock show" it was inevitable to let out a soft laugh at the apparent priority issue of your beloved and you kissed him on the top of the head before answering.

"Yes, it is sad"

"Remember how I told you that Anita and the butler were having an affair?" he asked and you hummed affirmatively “Did I get it right?”

"Almost. She was having it with the gardener” you heard a defeated sigh under your chin and your smile only increased “Now you owe me five bucks”

“Too bad, I don't have cash with me,” he muttered, pretending to be genuinely pained. “Would you accept another method of payment?” There was no need to ask what his suggestion was from him, the gentle kiss he placed on your shoulder spoke for itself.

“Yes, but there is a problem with the currency conversion. Five dollars equals approximately…” you took a moment to think of a suitable number and when you got it a smile escaped your lips “five hundred kisses”

“Five hundred kisses?!” Reid squealed from his hiding place in your chest "That's a huge debt"

"It is"

"I better start now huh?" he said flirtatiously. He started with quick kisses on whatever section of skin was within his reach that made you laugh out loud, then he continued up your neck with more careful caresses and by the time he reached your face the kisses were slow and so gentle that you felt die. But he wasn't so merciful to you, so his kisses touched almost your entire face except your lips. "Do you keep track?"

"Sorry?"

"Do you keep track of how many kisses I gave you?”

"Oh no, I guess you'll have to start over," you whispered, as you felt his smile against your skin as he planted a kiss right on your jaw "Or if you give me one on the lips, we're even”

Spencer didn't think twice to finally indulge your wishes and it was such a warm and deep kiss that you felt like a newlywed again. There were bad times, yes, but it was these moments that made you know that facing the rest was worth it.

"I love you very much, you know that?" he sighed, still with his eyes closed and his forehead resting on yours. You lifted your head a little just so you could steal another chaste kiss from him.

"I love you more, baby"

Spencer settled back, now lying entirely on your chest and you wrapped both arms around his waist while your hands traced uneven patterns on the striped fabric on his back. You asked your ear to please get some sleep and the soft beating of your heart was enough to calm him down until exhaustion overcame him.

If there was a perfect place in the world, he knew that it was between your arms.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jason gideon #JJ #penelope garcía #emily prentiss #david rossi

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taintandviolent · 1 month

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Like Right Now? ; Peter Maximoff x Reader

summary: Part 2 of this fic! Peter waited as long as he could - which wasn't very long. He wants round 2 and you do too. Like.... right now.

word count: 3.3K words!

w a r n i n g s: shameless smut, smut with a little plot, unprotected sex, couch sex, sex while parent is in the same vicinity dry humping, kissing, neck kissing.

a/n: not beta-read. by popular request... aaaah I'm still as nervous as I was posting the first part of this! anyway, I hope it's good and satisfies the peter craving! as always, sorry for any clunky weirdo writing!!!

full fic & taglist under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! /

With a contented sigh, you opened the door to the house you shared with your mother. Even though you were technically an adult now, you had decided to stay with her, helping her around the house. A child of divorce, you’d always been a little overprotective of her, and couldn’t imagine her alone.

“Did you have a good skate, honey?” Your mother asked, watching from the living room as you hung your skates on the hook by the door. With your thumb, you furiously rubbed off a scuff mark off the shiny surface and nodded. Boy, did you. Best skate you’d ever had. Using your heels to slip your sneakers off, and kicking them towards the rest of the shoes, you laughed. “Yeah, I went real fast tonight and–”

The phone interrupted your next words, ringing shrilly. You practically stumbled towards it, reaching out for it like a parched man reaches for water. Your insides wound themselves in knots, just knowing that it was Peter on the other end.

“H-hello?”

“Hey cutie.” He’d waited. As long as he could without losin’ his ever loving mind. Which, he wondered if he already had, considering how bad he was aching to hear your voice again. Maybe he’d already lost it.

“Hi,” you hummed, turning away from your mother. You brought your tone lower, hushed.

“Did you just get home?”

“Yeah, Peter, I did.”

“Dang, slow poke. I’ve been home for a while.”

“Okay, well,” you laughed. “That’s not fair.”

“When do we get to uh… hang out again? Huh? I’m already jonesin’ to see you again. With or without skates.” Peter adjusted the phone against his ear, waiting.

You peeked around the corner. Your mother was busy with her program, no longer paying attention to your conversation, likely assuming that it was just one of your girlfriends. How wrong she was…

“Hang out? Is that what we did?”

“Yea’, er… somethin’ like that.”

“Whenever you want.”

“Aw, man, don’t say that…”

“Why not?” You ducked around the corner and plopped down on the third step of the staircase, winding the cord around your fingers. You knew why. You heard the way that Peter’s breath hitched in his throat, even through the phone.

“Like… now?”

“...Right now?” You asked back, almost in a teasing tone. “Like right now?”

“Yeah!” His tone was bright and excited, and it sounded like he was already out of breath.

“My house?” The suggestion was brave, but you knew your mom would be going to sleep within the half-hour. If you stayed quiet, she wouldn’t hear you over her bedroom TV.

“Yeah! I mean…” He cleared his throat, trying to act casual. Way more casualness was needed - he was acting super lame and way too into you. Maybe you liked that. Maybe you didn’t. He couldn’t risk it. “Sure. If you want.”

You began whispering your address, your eyes flitting to the living room. Your mother rose from the chair and went to the kitchen, none the wiser. You continued, knowing Peter had already committed it to memory. Your mother leaned down to cup your face as she went up the stairs and mouthed goodnight, and you covered the receiver with your hand.

“Night, mom. Love you.”

“Be there in a flash.” You heard him say.

You wanted to tell him to wait, but the line was already dead. As you moved, your hands shook and fumbled the receiver, dropping it once before getting it back on its cradle. Your mother had hardly gotten up the steps, and he’d be there any second, if he wasn’t already. You heard the door click shut and heaved a sigh of relief.

“Mom?” You said, testingly. She didn’t respond, so you launched your body up the carpeted stairs, running up them like a four-legged animal. Her door was shut, nothing but the dull glow of her bedside table seeping through the crack at the bottom of the door. You raced back down the stairs, your socks padding quietly down them, despite the speed.

Your bedroom was down the hall, past the kitchen. You’d never been gladder to be on the bottom floor. You crept into your room, edging the door shut until the latch clicked into place and as it did, paused to laugh at yourself; you were doing everything so sneakily, as though you were a child acting out. You were a grown woman, albeit still in your mom’s house, but the point remained. Pushing aside the curtains, you carefully maneuvered the window up. It was a warm summer evening, there was no reason why you wouldn't open your window - perfectly normal, if your mother heard it. You stuck your head out. No Peter. Surely, he’d have been here by now. You breathed, looking at the base of the tree outside your window. A squirrel skittered up into the branches. Just as you were about to pull your head back inside, Peter’s head comically poked out from the corner of the house. He had clearly been standing by the front door, which horrified you.

“Took so long, I was about to knock – .”

You shushed him, and whispered harshly for him to get inside. He stuck one leg in, climbing in carefully – the last thing he needed was to be a total klutz and eat it on your bedroom floor.

“You’re crazy, you know that? The front door!?”

“Cool your jets, babe. You didn’t tell me which window was yours. Where’s your mom?”

“Upstairs, hopefully sleeping.”

“Good,” he murmured into your lips, suddenly in front of you. He’d caught you off guard with his speed, but like everything he’d done from the moment he’d complimented your skates, he was so frustratingly cute. The kiss was warm and soft, you were in no position to resist it. He kissed you back towards the bed, his hands cupping your breasts, thumb tweaking your nipples over your shirt. Which reminded you… you were still in your skating clothes. There was far too much fabric in between his thumb and your nipple.

“Lemme’,” you murmured sloppily into his lips, before finally pulling back. “Lemme’ change first, okay? It’ll look less suspicious. Who needs to cool their jets, huh?”

“Sorry, sorry.” Hands up, Peter took a step back, watching you as you sauntered off towards your small closet. Your hips swayed back and forth to a song that wasn’t playing. Probably something you’d heard at the skating rink. You could admit it, you were putting on a bit of a show in hopes of arousing him.

Still though, you hurried, sliding the doors open and pulling your shirt over your head. You reached around and undid your bra, glancing back at him cheekily. Woah, jackpot… he thought, hoping, that at that point, he wasn’t drooling like a cartoon dog. He was watching you intently, a crooked grin plastered on his face. Neck turned, you held his gaze, daring him to look as you slid your shorts and panties down over the curve of your ass. He looked, but it was so fast of a peek that it was impossible for you to notice. Now finished with your impromptu strip tease, you pulled a sleeping shirt from the shelf and threw it on, spinning on your heels to face him.

Clad in nothing but the oversized t-shirt, you marched back to Peter, who had taken a seat on the edge of your bed. You climbed behind him, sliding your hands up the round muscle of his shoulders. On your knees, you were just taller than him and decided to take advantage of that by kissing his neck, slowly. You nipped here and there, suckling in other places while your hands explored the front of his shirt, ghosting over the faded print.

Peter started sweating, and the stiffness between his legs got worse. Much worse. There was no hiding it, or ignoring it and he could’ve sworn that he heard you giggle behind him. His expression was a melange of pain and pleasure, and as your hands neared his crotch, he couldn’t really tolerate much more of your tender kissing…

“Babe,” In a blur of motion, your back was pressed against your mattress, and he was back to tweaking your nipples again, rolling them between his thumb and forefinger. The action made you squirm. “Your foreplay is bitchin’, but you’re driving me crazy. Loco. I feel like I’m gonna’ bust.”

“Okay, so now what?”

“Now what?” He repeated, almost mockingly. “It’s my turn.”

His hand trailed down from your breasts over the curve of your stomach to the soft mound between your legs. You felt a buzzing directly on the sensitive bundle of nerves and looked down, equal parts confused and aroused. It was his hand, and not a vibrator, but instead of seeing his fingers move back and forth, you saw a flesh-coloured blur. Everything you’d learned about fingering… in the span of a few hours, he’d completely shattered. So, he could finger-fuck you at super-speed, and he could literally vibrate your clit. Of course he could.

“Oh my god,” you moaned, an intoxicating lilt to your words. Peter groaned, and ground his hips against the side of your thigh. His finger dipped down, collecting some of your warm, slithery wetness and pulling it back up, smearing it around your folds.

You clapped your hand over your mouth, legs quivering. The pad of his middle finger continued tapping your clit and you felt the very rapid climb of your orgasm. Without warning from him, Peter’s hand drifted away from your pussy, his slick fingers gripping your thigh. “Babe, I’m thirsty.”

“Wh-what?” Breathless and sweaty, you quirked a brow at him.

“You got a soda or something?”

“Uh, yeah, in the kitchen. Y-you’re really thirsty right now?”

Before you could protest, you stood in the kitchen. He had opened the fridge, popped the tab on a can of Coke, guzzled it, and tossed it into the bin. You blinked. “What… Peter…!” You sniggered, covering your mouth to muffle the sound of your own voice. Your mother’s bedroom was right above the living room, and the last thing you wanted was her to wake.

He couldn’t help himself, couldn’t wait any longer. He’d gotten you downstairs, and now it was time to up the ante. Wrapping his arms around you, Peter zipped to the couch, and could’ve fucked your wet little cunt right there on the sofa. In the span of a few seconds, Peter could’ve drilled his aching cock inside of you, just long enough for you to feel it, just long enough for him to bust inside you and just long enough to make you quiver. Instead, he hovered over you, looking deep into your eyes, chest heaving.

“What’re you so nervous for, babe? You know that the second I hear footsteps, we’d be back in your room.”

“Peter, we can’t… my mom is right above us, dude!”

“You’re no fun, c’mon.” He craned his neck down, pressing a few teasing kisses along your exposed collarbone. “C’mon, babe.”

You whimpered, rolling your lips inward and your eyes upward. For being such a top tier goof ball, he was unnervingly good at making you feel like your entire body was on fire. That electric current that you felt at the roller rink was back, buzzing through you at a high voltage.

“Peter…” you begged, hoping he’d change his mind because the reality was that he’d get his way if he didn’t. You were too turned on and too into him to say no.

“C’moooon.” Another kiss. Internally, he was ripping stuffing. His confidence was outrageous, where did he get the balls? He wished you were holdin’ his – no. Stop right there. You ran your tongue along your teeth, and Peter watched the wet muscle as it swept across the enamel, glistening.

“You promise?” you asked.

He nodded, too eagerly, his silver hair flopping with the motion. “Scout’s honour, or whatever. She won’t know a thing.”

With a little huff, you spread your legs, allowing him in. Peter wasted no time in letting that wet, aching monster free, immediately pulling his gray boxers down over his balls. You pressed your hips into the couch cushions, backing away from the heat that met your groin and Peter followed them, pressing his hips right back into you. He groaned breathily, rutting his hips. You were soft and warm underneath him, and felt so soo good. The shaft of his cock met your wet folds, and he immediately found a rhythm, humping you in long, steady thrusts that had you curling your toes. Every time the velvet plush head of his cock bumped into your swollen clit, you whimpered. Ecstasy deluded your senses, eyes rolling back in your head.

“Peter, oh my god…!” His hand clamped over your mouth, his dark eyes widening in a warning.

“Shhhhhhh –”

You nodded underneath his grip, remembering the threat of the situation. Peter kept his hand on your mouth, pressing tightly against your soft lips. He reached down, taking hold of his cock and pumped it in and out of his own fist a few times before lining up with your entrance.

“Ready?”

With lusty, half-lidded eyes, you nodded.

Peter pushed his leaking tip inside of you, then with a shaky breath, sunk the rest of the way in. The sensation of your walls stretching to accommodate his thick cock was indescribable; hot, tight pleasure coursed through your body in waves as Peter found his rhythm. Fast. Fast rhythm. He fucked like a teenage boy, and you liked that – his bunny humps were deep and intentional, like the crimson head was trying to find the deepest point inside of you. Peter pressed his lightning-bolt patterned socks against the armrest of the couch, using it as leverage to push himself inside of you.

His cock made slick by your arousal, his hips moved against yours rapidly, hammering your cunt in a way that you physically thought impossible. In the darkness, you saw Peter smirk crookedly, pleased with the visual below him. Your tits bouncing underneath the shirt with each thrust, your eyes wide and lust-blown. His gaze dropped to them, watching, entranced. With your free hand, you reached for the hem of your shirt, pulling it up to your collarbone and letting your breasts fall free.

“Oh fuck,” he whispered.

Skates fast. Fucks fast. Cums fast. You thought, watching as his face contorted, his eyebrows knitting together, jaw dropping. His breaths came out in hurried little huffs as he pumped inside of you, filling your cunt with sticky, white heat.

“Honey?”

He froze. You froze. Stiffly, you turned your head towards the staircase, looking up into the darkness, petrified.

“YEAH! YEah, mom, just… getting a drink!” You tried to keep your voice level, but there was something so inherently naughty about having a guy on top of you, his dick inside of you while you spoke to your mother. Your stomach was tight, muscles burning with the contraction.

“Oh, okay! I thought I heard - I don’t know. I love you!”

“I love you too! Goodnight!”

Once the door clicked shut, and your head snapped back in Peter’s direction, who was still panting on top of you. Slapping his pectoral muscle hard, you mouthed go go go go! Naturally, before you’d finished the last ‘go’, Peter had pulled out and you were back in the safety of your bedroom before a drop of cum had time to leak from your swollen cunt. Back on your bed, your hair splayed out on the satin pillowcases. Peter was at your side, drawing circles on the exposed flesh of your stomach.

“Did you uh -”

“No… I didn’t have a chance.”

“Oh, uh… sorry about that. That happens a lot, y’know? Part of the whole speedster thing, I can’t always –”

“Peter… shhh… it’s cute. It means you like me.”

He pointed a finger at you, pushing his bottom lip into his top. “That… that is true. Hey. I have an idea.”

In the darkness, only illuminated by the moonlight that filtered in through the window, you saw Peter sink down to his stomach, resting between your legs. He moved both legs atop his shoulders, pulling you forward.

You felt a hot breath against your thighs, and whimpered. When a warm tongue licked between your wet folds, you moaned out, grinding your head back into the pillow. Peter slipped a single digit into your cunt gently, twirling his tongue around your clit as he did. He pumped it in and out a few times, feeling the way your cunt squeezed around him. Your wetness coated his finger, dripping down the length into his palm.

You felt your cunt clenching, uncontrollably. Peter did too and withdrew his finger. His tongue flicked at your clit rapidly, the wet, slick sounds filling the quietness of the bedroom. His dark eyes flitted up to yours, watching every minute expression that flashed across your face.

“S-slow down…” you whispered, not loud enough for him to hear. It was more of a desperate breath in the shape of the words. He didn’t hear you, and even if he had, he was far too busy burying his nose in your cunt, tasting your sweet fluids. His tongue lapped at your entrance and curled back towards his throat, swallowing. He groaned into her, the sound resonating through your core.

“Peter… Peter!” You whispered harshly, gripping his head on either side. He didn’t budge, and his eyes drifted shut in ecstasy. Moving up to take a fistful of silver hair, you yanked him off your cunt, his reddened lips glistening and open, confused. His inky orbs looked up at you, dazed and desperate.

“Whaaat?” he asked, a hint of annoyance tainting his usually upbeat voice.

“Slow… down….”

“Sorry but that’s not really… my…” He paused, looking at your weeping cunt again. “...thing. She doesn’t really look like she wants me to, either.” He reached forward, sweeping a single digit along the length of your pussy. You jerked, sensitive.

“I can’t stand it, I’m gonna’ cum too quickly.”

“Quick is in the name, babe.” He shrugged his shoulders, as if telling you that you were shit out of luck.

He dove back in, and picked up licking her again, from bottom to top. He was slightly slower than before – maybe he’d decided to have mercy on you. Or maybe he was just savouring the feeling of your cunt as it practically fluttered on his tongue, your clit throbbing with the sensitivity. You rocked your hips against his mouth, humping his pretty face with reckless abandon. It was the only control you had, because as soon as you started that, his tongue had returned to the speedy flipping of your clit.

You were going to cum – so fast that you hardly had time to process it.

“Ffffuck… oh god,” you whimpered. Your cunt pulsed over and over again, and Peter was right there to feel it. He speared two fingers into her. Curled them upwards, feeling the clench of your orgasm as it came. He fucked you with his fingers until the throbbing stopped, and the first hint of overstimulation came – you whined, too loudly.

Peter grinned, his slick fingers slipping from your pussy. With a mischievous little glimmer in his eyes, he observed them, watching as the thick, clear strands strung apart between his digits.

You wanted to ask him on a date. He wanted to ask you on one. But neither of you said a thing. Neither of you said a thing, and just watched each other breathing, chests heaving, heavy with lust. Lookin’ cuter than she ever has… Peter thought, watching you in your post-coital state; sweaty and blushing.

You knew you were going to be obsessed with him – were already obsessed with him. The high that you chased with skating was nothing compared to what you felt being around this silver dork, and all his little quirks.

“So uh… same bat-time, same bat channel?”

You chuckled. “Yeah, Peter. Yeah.”

#Peter Maximoff #Peter Maximoff x reader #Peter Maximoff x you #Quicksilver x you #Quicksilver x reader #myfics #X-Men Movies

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adyophene · 2 months

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lucifer x husk is something i never knew i needed and as a multishipper im screaming

literally. king of hell x some alcoholic furry guy

i love them i need to know how they wouldve met, fallen for each other and started dating. and how much thatd piss alastor off

Ooh I am so happy other people are enjoying this pair as much as I am! I've gotten a few asks about my headcanons for them, and I am happy to blab on and on. Fair warning. This is gunna be a long and rambling essay.

I'm gunna put it all under a readmore, just cause I want to insert the art I've done of them so far, since I've been half-heartedly trying to tell a visual story through the doodles.

Okay. On we go!

How they met;

We did see them technically meet in the show, where they shared their singular canon piece of dialogue, which was just Husk saying 'hey'. And then in the finale where we see a literal split second moment of Lucifer holding Husk's arm.

(also seeing the sweet looks huskerdust is giving each other here just makes me feel so delulu for writing this all, but crackships are silly by definition, so lets get back to the lucihusk) For me, what I imagined, is after the Hotel is finished its rebuilding, that is when Husk and Lucifer finally actually meet in a proper manner. I think Lucifer would be trying to make a good impression on all Charlie's friends at this point, endeared to all of them from their actions during the finale. Unfortunately, I think he is also the King of Bad First Impressions.

[Note. I think at this point Lucifer wouldn't even remember Husk's name quite yet. I think he would call him 'Keekee' ( by accident) or 'Dusk' (confidently incorrect) or just be like "Hey!.... Uh... You?" until Charlie or Vaggie finally corrected him. ]

Husk, on the other hand, I feel like maybe wouldn't gel with Lucifer right away. Wouldn't hate him, but also maybe not be enamored with him right away. Same as Lucifer, maybe he would have sweetened on him a bit through the hotel's rebuilding, but I think they'd start out at very neutral feelings. Maybe a vague sense of 'He's okay, but I don't know if we will really get along.'

Despite this, Lucifer is persistent, and he's going to be everyone's (except maybe Al, unless they start getting along by s2) buddy. He'd start hanging around the bar and participate in the redemption exercises.

Now, we know Lucifer struggles with depression, and I think he would be trying real hard to mask anything going on during this time. They defeated Adam! They rebuilt the Hotel! He believes in Charlie's dream, and he's more involved with her life and other people than he has been for years.

His only issue being Husk sees right through it, both because Husk is perceptive, but also because even the King of Hell can't help but have a lonely night or two at the bar where he ends up venting about his divorce and subsequent lingering loneliness.

[snapcube ref aside, )I really do think Husk would start to feel more positively toward Lucifer after Luci would drop the act somewhat. That they could bond over feeling both at their lowest of lows, while also being to admit that things seem to be getting better!

This would be about the point that I imagine Lucifer developing more romantic feelings! Husk would be a bit less prickly, and Luci would just absolutely eat up any and all positive interactions they'd have. I like to picture a lot of little shows of care at the this point, like Husk memorizing what Lucifer likes and even making up 'fun' drinks just to try and cheer the guy up. And Lucifer would fun a fun game in trying to get the grumpy cat to smile, and just, lighting up himself any time he was successful.

And that culminating into the two of them making each other laugh, with Alastor being an easy butt of the jokes, and a good way for Husk, himself, to finally get a chance to vent. I think Lucifer would be one of the only 'safe' options for Husk to do that with, in just so far as Al can't really threaten Lucifer, and Lucifer already sees Al as a bit of a manipulative bastard.

Falling for each other; At this point, Lucifer would start being a bit more caring toward Husk, though with that wonderful, oblivious flair of his. I don't think Lucifer himself would realize he'd have a crush up until he'd start feeling protective or jealous over Husk, and it would really throw him for a loop at first.

Because fake dating is one of my all-time favorite tropes, I have always had a idea for a fanfic (or comic) that I haven't gotten around to yet, based around Lilith coming back, and Lucifer panickily asking Husk to pretend to be his boyfriend, so he can appear well adjusted/completely over her. Of course the whole thing would backfire, as Lilith would see through it (as Lucifer wouldn't be as good of an actor as he'd think), and that Husk would end up kind of feeling hurt by the whole thing.

Husk, who'd go along with the plot with an eyeroll, would find himself seizing up through the whole fake date/encounter. Would find weird, sudden emotions bubbling up and absolutely hating it.

I don't think that man would think about the class difference between him and Lucifer up until someone would say something about it, maybe Lucifer himself trying to rationalize the (at this time still fake) relationship to Lilith. Now, Husk feels uneasy about the whole thing and ends up drinking heavily the whole night so he doesn't have to think about feelings. (Blitz and Stolas who? Ahaha. fuck.) Meanwhile, while the date would be fake, I think Lucifer would really rather like having Husk on his arm and feeling like he'd have a love-life again, while also not really getting why Husk's mood would be getting worse throughout the night. I think they'd still end up on good terms, but both of them would have their feelings in a jumble, and Husk would not like it. (he thinks he's lost the ability to love, after all)

I think somewhere at this point, as they are starting to develop feelings for one another, is when Lucifer finally starts really realizing how tied to Alastor Husk is, and he starts to make it everyone's problem. I do think Al and Lucifer would stay snarky at each other this whole time, but that it'd only get worse, as Al would poke back since he'd find Lu's over reactions funny.

I also think Al would be maybe the last person to realize anything romantic would be brewing between Lucifer and Husk, and he'd just think it'd be a purely platonic thing.

Beyond just bitching about Alastor, Lucifer would really be ramping up his attention towards Husk too. Fully in that 'puppylove/crush' stage, and trying his darndest to make Husk feel good and special. Husk would be resistant to it all, thinking it would just be Lucifer rebounding hard, and not wanting to get wrapped up in Morningstar family drama when he could happily (miserably) keep his head down and just keep drinking the days away.

But then Lucifer would find out about Husk's love of stage magic, and his history as a performer, and it'd be all over for the catman. It would become Luci's new pet project to rope Husk into some joyful self-expression, and after a song and dance number's worth of convincing, Husk would start to come around. I have to post all these images now cause- I drew them with the intention of mimicking a musical number! Husk starting off as a bit resistant before jumping in whole heartedly, and Lucifer overexcitedly dragging him along throughout the music number, hyping him up and just all around being smitten.

And this is where Husk would start really falling. Getting swept up in indulging his favorite, least destructive hobby, and having someone who absolutely loves it to bond with. Especially when it would be over. When they would just settle down and talk, and laugh, and bond over what they love about performing. The spectacle, the audience, the love of the craft. Its about the comradery!!!

@belladonazeppole wrote a wonderful series of fanfics based off these pictures, as well as the songs from 'The Greatest Showman' that really fit the ship! I would be remiss to not mention them here, because Bella and their fics are just wonderful!

How they started dating;

Now. Don't think just cause they both caught feelings for each other, that they'd immediately admit to it. No. I think both of them would drag their heels. I don't think Husk would admit to them at all, without some outside force effecting it. I think he'd stubbornly try to ignore the crush or drink it away, rather than let his heart become vulnerable to anymore damage.

Meanwhile, Lucifer would be struggling between his feelings for Husk and Lilith. (In the actual canon, I do think they might try to rekindle things, depending on what kind of person Lilith turns out to be, but I digress.) Part of him would be so swept up in a giddy kind of excitement, while the other would be set firmly in the camp of 'this is a bad idea, this won't work out, just look at what happened to your last relationship'. It wouldn't stop him from being outwardly more and more affectionate, but it would be weighing on him.

I do think Lucifer would end up being the one who would be thinking; "What am I doing. He'd never like me back." While Husk would be just sitting there (echoing what was said in the ask- sorry I went all wild and wrote this much about the ship dear god)- "I'm just some fucking furry alcoholic, what the fuck would the king of hell see in me??? Am I delusional? What the fuck is going on??" And I feel like this stage would go on for MONTHS and drive everyone else nuts. It would be clear to everyone (except Alastor, who again, would be just this meme

Though that wouldn't stop him from getting a little pissy about it) And then it would all come to a head during something benign, like a board game night. There would be flirting, there would be jealousy, there would be arguing, and then finally, loudly and with a lot of feeling, Lucifer would shout his way through asking Husk out on a date. A real Date. A capital 'D' date out on the town, dressed to the nines and a real good time. The board would be knocked over in the fray, game pieces raining down upon them while Husk would just stare blank faced, trying to process what just happened. An awkward half-minute would pass before he'd finally, trying to play it cool, shrug out a 'sure'.

How much it'd piss Alastor off;

In the aftermath, a radio static would just lowly grate everyone's ears as Alastor would be slowly coming to terms on how just annoying it would be to have his friend (/Unhealthy co-dependent pet friend possession??) romantically involved (ew) with the King of Hell (double ew)??? Then, either it would be something light hearted like 'he keeps trying to break them up but failing cause he hates interacting with romance' or a darker route where 'he keeps trying to manipulate them into breaking up by preying on all their worst insecurities in the relationship'.

And that, my friend, is all I have in mind so far for this delusional crackship au! There is more I could flesh out, of course, like Angel's role as a friend or potential third in the relationship, or what I imagine as Husk becoming like a stepdad to Charlie, but I've typed enough for the whole month. Hope any of that was coherent! I did not bother to edit or proof read it. Just pure stream of consciousness.

#not art #this is long #like really long #like don't open it unless you want 25 paragraphs about a crackship that like 12 people ship #royalflush #lucihusk

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wikiangela · 3 months

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fuck it friday

tagged by @dangerpronebuddie @theotherbuckley 💖

it's technically already friday here but still a little less than an hour before the episode!!! but for now I'm getting back to my beloved alive shannon fic and here's some angst that I've been stuck on bc apparently I can't write eddie and shannon arguing lol

prev snippet

___

“Eddie, there’s nothing to celebrate about our marriage ending.” she said gently, taking a step towards Eddie. He stopped and turned towards her.

“Isn’t there? I thought this was what you wanted.” he scoffed.

“And you agreed.” she bit back, tone defensive. “It was all amicable and mutual, and you agreed, Eddie. I thought we were past this.”

“Well, maybe I’m not.” he wasn’t sure why he was starting something right now, a discussion, maybe an argument. It wasn’t necessary, it was stupid, they’d talked it all over multiple times. Still, seeing the papers, it’s just… it hurt. He knew he had no right attacking her right now, but he just- he wanted her to hurt like he was hurting, and he felt awful about it. “Maybe we rushed this.”

“Rushed?” Shannon asked incredulously. “Are you kidding me? If anything, we should’ve gotten divorced sooner. We hadn’t talked in two years.”

“And whose fault was that?” Eddie had the answer ready before she finished talking. And he knew he wasn’t exactly being fair, the circumstances being what they were (...), but at the moment he didn’t care.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @transbuck @911onabc @housewifebuck @watchyourbuck @underwater-ninja-13 @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @puppyboybuckley @weewootruck @loveyouanyway @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @sunshinediaz @giddyupbuck @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @hoodie-buck @nmcggg @jesuisici33 @exhuastedpigeon @rogerzsteven @hippolotamus @honestlydarkprincess @fortheloveofbuddie @steadfastsaturnsrings @diazsdimples @disasterbuckdiaz @tizniz @daffi-990

#the alive shannon fic #fuck it friday #btw this whole argument was inspired by oth s7 when quinn gets the papers in the mail that she's officially divorced lol #and i need this specific argument for another scene so trying to somehow make it make sense haha #i love shannon and writing eddie being mean to her feels so wrong lol and the other way around too 🤣 even tho them arguing is canon haha #shannon diaz #buddie wip #buddie fic #wikiangela writes #my writing #fic snippet #my wips #i wanted to share smth more buddie or just more happy for the premiere but i don't have anything else rn lol

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tennessoui · 11 months

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anyone remember the divorce lawyer au?

(first ficlet posted here, along with the explanation post) (1.5k)

“Of all the gin joints in the world, you walk into mine,” the very familiar and incredibly grating voice of Anakin Skywalker greets Obi-Wan mere moments after he settles into a seat at the end of the bar.

“No,” Obi-Wan says automatically, though he isn’t quite sure what he’s protesting. It’s an instinctive sort of no. A plaintitive no. A for the love of all things holy, I cannot be expected to deal with this now as well sort of no.

Even though, technically, Mr. Skywalker is right. Of all the damn gin joints in the world, he happened to walk into one already hosting Anakin.

“Well,” Anakin sounds considering now. He doesn’t particularly sound as if he’s planning on leaving. “I guess of all the dive bars in Vegas, you happened to walk into mine. But I’m pretty sure they sell gin here! Though I guess I don’t know how much gin needs to be sold at a bar before it’s classified as a gin joint.” Now his voice sounds even more considering. Closer too.

“What can I get you?” The bartender asks as she slides down closer to him. It’s not very loud in here, still relatively early and so not overly crowded, but she leans forward across the bartop as if having trouble hearing him.

Anakin sits down in the seat next to Obi-Wan rather aggressively, brushing their shoulders and thighs together. “You can put his drinks on my tab, thanks,” he announces. “We’re together.”

“We’re not together,” Obi-Wan tells her. “But yes, you can put my drinks under his tab. Much obliged. An old fashioned, thank you. A double. No cherry.”

“You got it,” the woman says, turning away to make his drink.

Obi-Wan closes his eyes for a second to pray for patience before he turns to look at Anakin Skywalker.

He is just as beautiful as he was two weeks ago when he’d last stopped into Obi-Wan’s office, tearful, hungover bride in tow for a quick divorce before her plane ride back to Australia.

It isn’t fair.

“We could be together,” Anakin says. His eyes are dark, his head canted forward, his thigh still brushing Obi-Wan’s. “Just for the night.” “You know, I’ve always thought you were a lot less sober when you proposed to strangers,” Obi-Wan tells him drolly, accepting his drink from the bartender with a wave of his hand. “I’ve been picturing you absolutely sloshed stumbling down the aisle.”

“You’re not a stranger, Mr. Kenobi,” Anakin replies. “You’re my go-to divorce attorney.”

“Normal people do not have those,” Obi-Wan says, taking a sip of his drink. It’s strong at least, thank God.

“People get divorced all the time,” Anakin argues, leaning forward to rest his elbow on the bartop to look over at Obi-Wan. “You were the one that told me that divorce can be just as healthy as marriage.”

“Don’t remind me,” he mutters, taking another bigger sip. He really, really does not want to talk about marriage with Anakin Skywalker of all people.

Yet somehow the words slip out of his mouth and off his tongue despite how much he does not want to talk about marriage with Anakin Skywalker. “How do you do it then?”

“Do what?” Guileless, innocent. Hell, he probably just has to blink wide blue eyes at his fuck of the night and they’d follow him down the aisle as quick as they can stumble.

“How do you—” he waves his hand and takes another sip of his drink. “Convince people to marry you. You’ve got a politician, a bride to be, who knows how many bridesmaids, a foreign dignitary, a man old enough to be your father, a veteran all under your belt. How are you dragging them all down the aisle? You can’t be—”

He cuts himself off. That good in bed, he’d been about to say.

Anakin grins with his eyebrows raised like he knows it. “It depends,” he says. One finger traces over the countertop. The other hand falls to rest on Obi-Wan’s knee. “Sometimes we’re already in bed,” he murmurs, slow-like. “Sometimes we’re on our way there, in some dark corner booth and I’ve got my hands wrapped around her waist and she’s begging me to whisper dirty things into her ear, tell her what I’m gonna do to her. It’s sort of like marriage vows, you know? Dirty promises sound the same.”

He is far too handsome for his own good, Obi-Wan decides. If he were a little less attractive, he’d probably have a much harder time coaxing strangers down the aisle.

“I wouldn’t know,” Obi-Wan says stiffly, stopping Anakin’s hand from moving further up his leg. “I’ve never been married.”

The words are bitter; the wound is still bleeding. He downs his drink in one go and waves for another from the bartender.

“You have a girlfriend though, don’t you?” Anakin’s nose wrinkles. “You’ll marry her probably. You’re the marrying type.”

Obi-Wan closes his eyes. “She’s not,” he says shortly. And then, to rip the bandage of the wound completely. “And she’s not my girlfriend anymore either.”

Anakin’s eyes go wide. “What?” “I asked. For her to marry me. And she said no.”

“She said no?”

“While your disbelief is rather flattering, I’d like not to talk about it, thank you.”

“Why would she say no? To marrying you? Is she alright? Well, obviously not, but—I mean. I don’t understand. Or believe it.”

Obi-Wan’s lips thin, and he reaches into his pocket. “I assure you, if she’d said yes, she’d be wearing this right now and I would not be here.”

He puts the ring box on the bar in between them and accepts a new drink from the bartender. Anakin looks down at the ring box silently.

“Well?” Obi-Wan asks. He doesn’t know what he wants Anakin to say. He’s sitting in the tatters of his longest relationship, ended because she did not want to marry him in the end and he could not live with that. And he is talking with a man who gets married and divorced more than perhaps anyone else in the entire world.

What could he possibly want to hear from Anakin Skywalker?

“‘M going to get you wasted,” Anakin says, and Obi-Wan figures that’s good enough.

—----------

“Marriage is important to me,” Obi-Wan slurs out countless hours later. They have migrated from the bar to a low-level booth, and Anakin has his arm curled around the top of it with his fingers playing with the ends of Obi-Wan’s hair. “I couldn’t com…pro…mise.” He sounds the word out carefully and deliberately.

“You shouldn’t have to for something that’s important to you,” Anakin decides, and Obi-Wan nods. That’s what he thinks too. That’s why they’d broken up. That’s why Obi-Wan still has the ring.

“All sales final,” he quotes and rubs his hand over his beard. “What am I gonna do with it now?”

“Give it to someone else,” Anakin suggests once Obi-Wan picks up the ring box again to look at it. “Someone who wants it.”

“Nobody wants it,” Obi-Wan says. That’s the problem.

The other problem is that his drink is gone. This is a very big problem and easy to solve because Anakin’s drink is right next to his empty glass, and Anakin will let him have his drink, Obi-Wan is sure of it. Anakin has been very lovely tonight.

“That’s my drink,” Anakin says. “Get your hands off it.”

“I’ll trade you for it,” Obi-Wan mumbles, gesturing to the ring box. Anakin stills completely.

“You…will?”

“Yes,” he decides. And then a thought occurs to him, terrible and mean and brutal. “Unless you don’t want to marry me either. But you want to marry everyone.” He scowls, though he thinks it may look more like a pout. “Don’t you want to marry me?”

Anakin’s hand carefully resumes its light stroking of Obi-Wan’s hair. “Yeah,” he says. His voice is rough. Obi-Wan likes the way it sounds. “Yeah, I do.”

“Good then,” Obi-Wan says and takes Anakin’s drink. After all, what’s Anakin’s is now his if they’re engaged to be married. “I’m sure you know where the closest chapel is. Though I’m quite disappointed so far.”

“Why?” Anakin’s face is awfully close to his. When did he move? “Aren’t I providing for you like a good husband should, baby? You’ve got my drink and everything.”

“I was told you’d put your hands on my waist and whisper dirty things into my ear,” Obi-Wan says. “And so far you’ve just been playing with my hair.” “I like your hair,” Anakin says. “And I don’t want to tell you what I’m thinking of doing to you. I think I just wanna show you.”

Obi-Wan blinks. His face is hot. Anakin is flushed all over too, eyes focused somehow despite the amount of drinks he’s had. His breath smells sweet, like the cocktail he’s been drinking for the last hour. Now Obi-Wan’s breath probably smells the same. “Well, I suppose tomorrow morning I won’t have to ask you if your latest marriage has been consummated.”

Anakin smirks. “No, you won’t,” he agrees. It’s a promise.

#obikin #divorce lawyer au #basically they get married and fuck and then in thte morning anakin is like #um actually m gonna keep the ring #and i don't want to sign the papers #i wanna keep you as my husband #forever

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legitalicat · 4 months

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Out of Time

Chapter 4 - "Eldest Son to Eldest Daughter"

an: I am so glad people are enjoying this story! I've been playing with this concept for nearly a year now. I hope you enjoy this chapter just as much! I want to go ahead and put this out there. I have borderline personality disorder and quite a few other mental illnesses, so all of that influences relationships in my life, which is reflected a lot in this story. Also this is not canon Aegon. This is a version of Aegon that lives permanently in my head.

If you love this header go check out zaldritzosrose for more amazing work! She is tagged on the series masterlist and on my welcome post!

Find the series Master list here!

Summary: Being the eldest child of the Queen or King is a weight many did not understand. It is a weight that dictates her every choice, ruling her heart and mind. Aegon, understanding the feeling, gives her the gift of a connection she could not have with another person.

TW: Very blatant mental health struggles, Substance Use (I added 🍃 into this world cause it not being in there is unrealistic), talks of alcoholism, religious talk, mentions of injury, self image issues, bad parents, divorced parents, moon tea, Aegon is so in love with reader it makes me ache

Relationships: Aegon Targaryen ii x Velaryon!Reader, past Aegon Targaryen ii x Helaena Targaryen

Word count: 3.7k

When I woke up this morning, only to find Jace gone from my bed and a cup of moon tea on the table, all I wanted was to hide away from the world. But there was more to my life than just Jace and Aemond. I had others who loved me, who had missed me this entire time. With that in mind, I dressed for the day in a simple lilac colored dress, drank the tea in one quick gulp, and had Ser Erryk escort me to Helaena’s chambers.

Her and Aegon’s children were with him for the morning. With both of them still happily in the Red Keep, I suppose it made sharing their children’s time easier. Though I don’t believe there has been a situation such as this ever. Most marriages that ended in annulment happened because there weren’t children from my understanding. Though until now I had not known of anyone who had gotten an annulment.

“How did my mother grant the end of your marriage?” I couldn’t help but ask Helaena. We were working on our cross stitching together. It was an activity that soothed her and I was all the happier to make sure she was calm. “Doesn’t the Faith typically have to be in agreement? And I mean, you two had three children together, wouldn’t they just deny it?”

Helaena chuckled. “I often times forget how little you and your brothers paid mind to the teachings of the Seven,” she said to me.

Fair enough, I suppose. Technically speaking, we are followers of the Seven. Yet anyone with eyes knew that we only did it because we kind of had to. I don’t believe Mother or Laenor had any vested interest in their teachings. They certainly never passed anything on to us outside of the bare minimum. I know my father’s family believed in the Seven, but since he was never allowed to claim us, he had no right to teach us his beliefs. In truth I only knew anything about them from Alicent.

“So explain it to me as though I’m five,” I said, shrugging a bit.

“It is unholy to hold one in a marriage against their will. Aegon and I were so young when we were married, and it was done under the misguided notion that your mother and family may seek to squash any competition for the Throne, so it was not difficult to make a case for it to be an unlawful marriage. Though I do feel that Rhaenyra may have reminded the Septon that he can be and would be a delicious snack for Syrax should he not see reason,” she told me. The smile that played at her lips as she thought of it was enough to make me smile.

“And what is it you wish to do now?” I asked her.

“I am perfectly content to live my life here. I love my family, I love my home. Though I do wish my mother had bothered to ever understand me,” she explained.

My smile fell from my lips. Time changed many things but Helaena’s distance from Alicent didn’t seem to be one. It was unfortunate, truly, as Helaena was wonderful. She may be more into bugs than most people, she may have her dreams and episodes, but she was not mad. In fact when actually making an effort to know her, one could find she was the opposite.

I had always wished I could see the world Helaena does. The world that I live in is dark and dreary, a place where one loses any semblance of a father before they even understand how great they are. It is a place where most everyone prefers men over women, despite the women being capable and strong in their own right. The world I live in? It is not a place built for Helaena.

Yet the one she lives in? People are praised for what they have done. There is no consideration other than who truly is right and just. Even in the darkest moments in which her mother tried to keep her from being who she is, my mother always gave safe passage to her sweet sister. Helaena paid no mind to those who were insignificant unless they hurt her family or her bugs.

It Is not to say she is naïve. In fact, I would think she sees more truth than any of us. But being the third child, born after an eldest daughter and eldest son, is very different than being the eldest. She did not have to fight to prove she was worthy like Mother did. And she does not have to step away because she knows she would not be accepted over her brother as I do…

I was born approximately two hours before Jacaerys. A long time between twins as I’ve been told, but enough time there was no doubt about who came first. Truthfully to my mother I don’t think it mattered which of us was born before the other. We are twins and therefore she always gave us the choice.

She explained to me that her father had named her heir before he had any other living children and never looked back. Once Aegon was born, most expected Viserys to change his mind. But he remained steadfast in his decision, never caring if Mother still wanted it. To this day I don’t know if she did. As such, she wanted to make sure we always had a choice.

“You’re doing it again,” Helaena said softly.

When I looked to her, she nodded her head to my hands. I had been so completely lost in thought that I didn’t notice I had repeatedly pricked my fingers with the needle I was using. Blood seeped through the fabric in several dots scattered around.

“Sorry,” I muttered before sitting the cross stitch down. Standing, I walked over to the bowl of water that was kept for washing her hands and dunked my fingers in it a few times.

“Our mothers are planning a feast to celebrate your return,” she told me as I turned back around. “I think it will happen week’s end.”

Naturally. It seemed they always found a reason to celebrate me. On my name day, it was always me who got doted on. Jace got put in the shadows, not that he seemed to mind much though. When I claimed Vhaela, only a few weeks before I disappeared, it was a much brighter occasion than Aemond claiming Vhagar. When I returned to King’s Landing, it overshadowed the tourney being held for Aegon to celebrate his own name day.

It was never my Intention, truly. Those around me just deemed me important. I had never wanted to be the center of attention. All I wanted was to do right by my family. Never have I sought out great fortune or the throne for myself, though technically it should be mine by birth order. All I craved was love.

“Are you happy?” I asked her, trying to change the subject.

“Yes. Aegon is a wonderful father, but he could never love me. And I do not love him,” she told me.

Before I was given the chance to respond, the chamber doors opened. Helaena’s children ran to her. The twins, Jaehaera and Jaehaerys, were nearing twelve at this point. They looked it, too. If you were to ask me, Jaehaera looked like Alicent but with the typical Targaryen silver hair and violet eyes. Jaehaerys and Maelor, who was nearing eight, were carbon copies of Helaena. They had the same curl to their hair as she did, their noses equally as small and rounded.

As the three children excitedly talked about their morning, I quietly excused myself from the room. While she would never say anything, there was not a place for me with Helaena and her children by myself. Those kids don’t remember me, though I remember Helaena’s every letter describing them in their early years. For both pregnancies, there was not a movement they made inside her that did not warrant a letter to me. But that was then.

In the corridor, Aegon stood and spoke with Ser Erryk. Erryk had a twin too, named Arryk. From what I remembered, Arryk and Aegon were quite close, the former taking on the watching over of the latter once Aegon hit puberty.

“Beautiful kids,” I said to him, offering a small smile. When he looked to me and smiled, I couldn’t help but blush a deep red.

“Thankfully they take more after Helaena,” he said to me. He stepped closer to me, extending a hand to rest under my chin. I swallowed hard as he tilted my face around in the light. “You should perhaps be more careful.”

“I shall keep that in mind,” I said, unable to hide my chuckle.

“Where are you headed to? I could join you,” he suggested as he offered his arm to me to take, dropping his hand from my chin.

“I was just going to head back to my room. Truly, Aegon, there is no need to bother yourself,” I told him.

“My darling, there is never a bother when it comes to you.” His voice was light and airy, as though the words he spoke were just the most casual thing in the world. But there was a firmness to them that I truly believe only he could accomplish.

It wasn’t so much a demand. He was not like Aemond, demanding and sure of himself. He was not like Jace, either, in being soft and guiding always. Aegon was something entirely different.

He had always seemed arrogant. He was the first born son so it was natural that he grew into believing he deserved everything he wanted. But only when you spoke to him when everything else was quiet did you ever get the truth.

He had never been much more than a scared little boy. There were frequent talks of what he feared would happen when Viserys had died. He had always been scared his mother would try to force him to take the Throne. When he was betrothed to Helaena, he was scared he wouldn’t be good enough for her. He was scared that I would grow to hate him, completely ignoring that I could never hate him.

The closeness I shared with Aegon was something that bordered on secretive. While it wasn’t that we felt the need to hide, as there truly was never anything to hide, it was what made him comfortable. He would come to me late at night when he could not sleep. I think it is when he felt safest. Even when we were children he preferred the night.

It was in the night that he saw beauty in his life. He didn’t struggle as much then to resist drinking, which had always seemed backwards to me but he swore it. The pressures that were placed upon him from Otto and Alicent didn’t exist at night. The person he truly is was enough for the shadows of darkness.

Perhaps it is my own cockiness but I like to think I see a side to him that others don’t. When we were alone I got to hear him sing. I don’t think anyone else knew he liked to sing let alone how good he was at it. The first time he ever sang me a song that he had picked up in a tavern, tears sprang to my eyes. And when he isn’t drunk, he is quite smart. He knows politics even better than Aemond. He knows how to get people to like him and trust him, a rare commodity in this world.

And if Helaena says he is a wonderful father, I have no doubt about it. I remember him writing to me the first time Helaena was pregnant. He was so happy and excited, determined to be better to his children than Viserys ever had been to him. When I had come back to King’s Landing, while he still struggled with the drink, he was so devoted to making sure they didn’t see it.

“I would be glad to have you along,” I said, smiling at him. Though I didn’t take his arm. He merely nodded at me and followed me, allowing me to set the pace in which we walked.

As we walked, we walked in silence. Our footsteps echoed off the stone walls, the small ching and squeak of Ser Erryk’s armor followed behind us. I was perfectly comfortable.

We got to my room in just a few minutes as it wasn’t far from Helaena’s. Ser Erryk took his place beside my door. I gave him a small smile and nod before leading Aegon into my room.

He took a seat in a chair in front of the fireplace. He seemed like maybe he ran cold, always choosing to sit close to fires or walking around wrapped in a blanket. I was like that too, of course, much to the hatred of Jace when we shared a room still.

“I am happy to see you home, have you need of anything?” he asked me when I sat in the chair next to his.

“I merely wish there was something I could take for the pain that wasn’t milk of the poppy. The way it muddled your father’s mind has made me certain I will never use it,” I told him simply.

He nodded softly and reached his right hand up his left sleeve. “In case you have not been told, I want you to know I am sober now. Have not had a sip of wine since the night you disappeared,” he told me.

“Aeg, that’s amazing. I am so proud of you,” I said as my heart felt like it was going to burst.

Truly I don’t think he had ever stood a chance against being a drunkard. Mother told me a long time ago how Viserys was giving Aegon wine by his second nameday. I never could understand why Alicent was so okay with that, especially because for my entire life she had yelled at him for being drunk. Like the night Aemond lost his eye, Aegon got blamed for not protecting him because even at thirteen he went and got so drunk he passed out on the steps. How on earth did she go from so passively allowing him to drink when he was a baby to being so vile about his problem?

He looked at me, his face saddened for a split second before he grinned and pulled out a pouch. “The Grand Maester told me to use this. It’s hemp. Mostly used for creating things, building and whatnot. But someone at the Citadel found if you consume it, it gives you what they call a high. But it is gentler on the health than being drunk. I’m not sure the process but they cook it into butter and then can bake it into things.”

He opened the pouch and pulled out a biscuit the size of his palm. He split it in two and offered me half. It didn’t look abnormal or smell any different. The biscuit looked very appetizing though.

“Do I just eat it?” I asked him, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes. But start slow. Too much at once and you’ll be completely incapacitated. Just a small bit should help your anguish, both physically and mentally,” he explained. “It will not be immediate like milk of the poppy. But it will be effective.”

Cautiously, I took a bite, eating on a quarter of my half. This was something I would never have done on my own. Yet Aegon had never truly steered me wrong, always seeming to have my best interests at heart.

After he took his own bite, eating a little more than I did, a silence fell between us as he just watched the flames. Aegon sometimes seemed like he wished that the world would open and swallow him whole. The way he would avoid looking at me, or anyone for that matter, spoke volumes about how uncomfortable he was even if nobody else realized it.

I remember once he told me that if he didn’t look at people he could convince himself they weren’t looking at him. When I tried to point out that wasn’t right he just put his hand over my mouth so that I couldn’t. It was that moment I realized how alike he and I are.

I escaped the duties of being Mother’s eldest child by pretending I wasn’t. Stepping aside so that Jace could be heir and acting as though I was okay with it was the biggest way I accomplished this. If I were honest, I wanted to be Queen, not Queen Consort. Hiding that fact from everyone, including my twin, repeatedly affirming his place as the next King essentially robbed me of a piece of my identity and forced me into a new one. One in which I was meant to stand by his side and have his children.

Aegon liked to hide from being the eldest son by pretending he didn’t exist. He didn’t just refuse those duties. He simply treated them as though they weren’t real. He used to disappear rather frequently for a few days at a time, only to be found in a tavern or a brothel and dragged back to the Keep. He had always been so drunk he never remembered his time there.

“I missed you,” he said quietly. “I know you never felt for me the way you did Jacaerys, or even Aemond. But you are probably the only woman I’ve ever loved.”

He didn’t look at me when he said it which made me wonder why he did. It seemed silly to me how badly I wanted him to look at me. My entire life I felt like I had been begging Aegon to look at me.

He was right, I never felt for him the way I did Jace or Aemond. But he was the first person that ever made me blush. He was the first person who I considered marrying for any reason. He was my first crush and I think that for a lot of people that was a pretty sacred role.

I wanted a dragon so badly because of his relationship to his own dragon, Sunfyre. I don’t remember exactly when they came together, only that Aegon claimed Sunfyre just as I claimed Vhaela. And they were a sight to see together, having potentially the strongest bond of any dragon and rider. I swear Aegon could be hundreds of leagues from Sunfyre, merely think of needing him, and Sunfyre would go there without a second thought.

There was also the fact that they were very beautiful together. Sunfyre was perhaps the most beautiful dragon to ever exist. His scales were a dazzling, glittering gold while his belly and wing membranes for a soft pink. When he stood tall, he looked like a perfect golden statue.

Aegon was the epitome of Targaryen beauty. His silver blonde hair was not as long as Aemond’s, but was chin length and began curling near the end. He had the classic Valyrian lilac eyes that sparkled in the firelight. He had a square jawline and lips fuller than Aemond’s. He was about five inches taller than me, and therefore Jace since he was my height, at about five foot ten, and just two inches shorter than Aemond.

He truly was a beautiful mixture of Jace and Aemond. His eyes, hair, and eyes were soft in such a way they drew me in. Yet his jawline was sharp like he was chiseled in stone. One could argue all the gods in the universe came together to create the perfect man in him.

I became very aware I was staring at his lips. My cheeks became hot as the blood rushed to them. He turned to look at me, a small goofy smile on his face when he saw me looking. It caused my cheeks to become even hotter.

“You’ve been staring for quite a while, how are you feeling?” he asked me.

“Fine,” I said as I shrugged.

My feet didn’t quite feel right though. Like they didn’t really exist but they do exist. He chuckled at something, I’m guessing my face, and I could feel a giggle bubbling up in my chest.

“Oh you feel it,” he told me, grinning.

“You’re pretty,” I whispered, leaning towards him. “Have I ever told you that?”

“Pretty?” he asked.

Slowly, I nodded. He was pretty. But not the way Mother or Helaena was pretty in an elegant and sophisticated way. He was the type of pretty like fire. One that was dangerous and wild, where I couldn’t quite guarantee I would make it out alive.

“You’re pretty, too,” he told me quietly.

I think he was the only one to ever call me pretty. Aemond called me beautiful and Jace called me perfect, yet never pretty. Except the times they called me pretty during sex, that is. Being pretty in the mundane was something special to me. It was like I was a flower or even a star.

He reached out and took my hand. We sat in silence for a while. There was no way I could tell how long we sat there, just looking at each other while saying nothing. It felt nice in a way I could not explain.

“My darling pretty girl,” he whispered, rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb. “How is your pain?”

“Better, thank you, Aegon,” I whispered.

My heart was light in my chest. It fluttered rapidly, my cheeks heating up once again. He was looking at me like I was precious to him.

He stood from the chair, moving to stand in front of me. The flutters turned to a steady pounding. It was beating in my ears loudly. Aegon didn’t say anything before he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of my nose, something that he had done when we were kids.

“I will ask the Maesters to prepare you the same biscuits. I do not like to think of you in pain,” he whispered to me. “And it may help if your thoughts get to be too much.”

Without saying another word, he took his leave. He walked out of the room, leaving me to sit alone with only my thoughts of him.

#dividers by benkeibear #aegon targaryen ii #aegon targaryen x reader #helaena targaryen #mental illness in fiction #out of time

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afriendlyblackhottie · 2 years

Text

Birthday

Request: Ok but the way I like low key wanna go to a strip club with Chris and watch him sit back while a stripper with a big ass twerks on him and gives him the absolute time of his life 💀

Request: Hey am I request a Chris Evans x black reader where they’re neighbors

Request: Could you do a Chris x Shy reader where the reader likes him and he likes her but she doesn’t know he likes her. Could it be possibly a smut with a really freaky reader thankssssss <333

Request: Chris Jamal evans eating plus sized! Readers ass 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

Summary: when you told Chris you wanted him to teach you a thing or two after your divorce, he hadn’t been expecting it like this.

Pairings: Chris Evans x black!plus sized! Neighbor! Reader

Warnings: minors dni, smut, daddy kink, Duggar-esque religious beliefs, strippers, lap dance, cunnilingus, analingus, rough sex, humiliation, dirty talk, breeding kink, sort of cuckqueaning

(A/N: this is kinda different. Idk just thought it would be fun to write a story about a fundie girl getting corrupted by this man 🤷🏾‍♀️ hopefully you guys see what I was going for cuuuuz 😳 lol and I had to combine a lot of requests cuz they’ve just been sitting and I’ll feel better once they’re gone. This story is unedited so if you see mistakes idk what to tell you. anyway like, follow, and comment with a reblog 💜 ✌🏾)

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It wasn’t like he’d gotten well-aquatinted with the side no one else was allowed to see by now. You’d gotten yourselves into some messes for sure. Messing around in inappropriate places. His shy girl turned naughty slut and only for him.

Like that time he was finger fucking you in the back of a very packed movie theatre. You just looked so fucking hot that night. At least the movie was rated R.

Or the time he made you orgasm on vacation because he made you keep a bullet vibrator inside of you. As he made you cum in the water while you were on the beach. Watching your face change as you buried yourself into his chest trying to stop yourself from crying out. All he could do was smirk at you. Fucking slut.

If anything you were just paying him back which was fair. The two of you had been very worked up. It was kind of hard since no one really knew the two of you were a thing. As far as everyone else knew you were just his sweet little neighbor.

No one had even expected you to come out tonight anyway. You seemed like a shy thing but he knew better. Just cuz you had Scott and everyone else fooled didn’t mean he was the same way. He could tell you were a freak from the moment he met you and yet he’d still been unprepared by it.

You just did things no one else would ever think to do. By now he’d gotten the chance to enjoy your true nastiness. The way you let him fuck you anywhere he felt like. Had become his free use slut.

The two of you weren’t technically a couple yet but after tonight he doesn’t know. This had been new even for you. He didn’t even know you were- it was just so unexpected.

Fuck, it was hot, though, you trying to hang. Obviously you’d been invited to dinner and from there it ended up being wherever the wind took all of you.

First a bar not far from the restaurant. He’d made you sit by him all night. Barely let you out of his sight. Knew one of his friends had a little crush on you and he wasn’t about to catch himself slipping just cuz it wasn’t official.

You’d been all pouty and shit about how bad you felt about not bringing a gift. Not like it was your fault. It was kind of last minute anyway. Hell he thought he was going to be out of town but he… fine he wanted to see you. So he made the quick trip. Scott told everyone to come out for dinner and there you were.

You were wearing this dress you knew he liked. One that he really liked taking off of you. He doesn’t think you saw yourself in the way he did but holy fuck did he see you. Just everything since that first moment when you’d moved in. How shy you’d been because you definitely were not used to having a neighbor like him.

You came from a much smaller community. Had moved in next door with your husband. Well, ex-husband.

While nothing happened when you were married, the two of you had gotten close. Where you were from divorce was uncommon, but since it had been five years with no baby it was kind of inevitable.

The pressure to conceive had started getting to you around the second year. By then your now ex had been trying to be all buddy buddy with him. Trying to convert him and shit. He played along for a minute just to get close to you cuz underneath the modesty clothing he really liked what he saw.

And it wasn’t like he swooped in after the papers were filed either. He’d just done a lot to help considering your parents were trying to make you go back home to raise your siblings or nieces and nephews.

By then your friendship had grown to where he was not going to let that happen. Had even managed to get you a lawyer when they tried to force you to give up the house. Saying that since the church owned it, you had to leave but you were taking your seat ass time to move out.

When the two of you first started messing around you’d been asking him questions. Had never done this before. Never got to date. Didn’t even get to have your first kiss until the officiant said, ‘you may now kiss the bride.’

He didn’t want to take advantage of you knowing how inexperienced you were, but it quickly became clear that you were going to be a monster all on your own. He’d rather be the one taking care of you rather than getting yourself into dangerous situations out of curiosity. And fuck was he more than happy to be given the honors.

He genuinely hadn’t expected that side from you. After being blamed over and over about the fertility issues plaguing your past relationship, you seemed more than ready to explore a side of you that you would have never been able to before.

Wanted to know what it was like for a man to slap your ass and pull your hair. To be called dirty, filthy names. To be degraded and treated like the slut you weren’t supposed to want to be, but tonight had pushed the limit.

He wonder what your ex would say if he saw you. It had been something you’d never thought you’d do but you were down for anything Daddy told you to be down for.

What a fucking loser didn’t see what the fuck he had? That if he just treated you right, he probably would have been able to keep you. Sucks for him because Chris wasn’t planning on fumbling that bag. Not after tonight. His mind had been officially made up. Where the fuck was he about to find another nasty girl like you.

Last time I saw you, you’d been kind of upset. It had been hard to shake those teachings sometimes. Had worried that he’d judge you or think less of you. Clearly right now none of that was on your mind as your only goal seemed to be getting to his dick.

And, fuck he was not complaining. Hell no. Who the fuck was he to turn down road head especially after the shit the two of you had just gotten up to.

When one of the guys joked about going to a strip club, he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Had even offered to just take you home where he knew he’d end up texting them that something came up since he knew he’d be to busy trying to get balls deep in you.

You surprised him by saying, “I wanna go.” When you said you wanted to try new things you’d definitely meant it. If anything he was proud of the little deviant he’d turned you into.

You’d looked so cute watching them dance with those wide eyes. He was still close to you not helping as he paid attention to your reactions.

Had whispered in your ear for you to stop money in one of the girls thong. Chris laughed and almost forgot that the two of you were supposed to be a secret cuz he really wanted to fucking kiss you.

Besides the dancer seemed to take a liking to the two of you. Moving onto his lap first to sit on him. “You know you and your girlfriend are pretty cute,” she said. “You should come in the back for a dance.”

And he wasn’t even going to correct her that you weren’t technically his girlfriend cuz hell you may as well be. Which meant he wanted you to be okay with it. At the same time though you couldn’t just expect him to not react when a woman with a big ass like hers was moving all on him.

He motioned with his head for you to get up. Not even giving you a chance for a choice. You wanted to come to a strip club he’d show you what it was like. Why hold back.

As she moved over him you sat beside him all giggly. Chanel staring back at you with a smirk as she started grinding down on him. You watching as she twerked, biting your lip.

He still couldn’t stop watching you. Trying to see how far you were gonna let him go with this. Getting a little closer and looking up at him with big eyes. Fuck it. Didn’t matter that another girl was in his lap then you wouldn’t mind if he kissed you.

“How you feeling, Baby?” He asked.

“Good,” you squeaked out which made him chuckle. So fucking cute. And you were really letting him just ruin whatever innocence your parents tried to install in you.

As if you would go home to live without this. At this point he’d made you his little addict. Pushing you further and further with each encounter, but there was definitely something in particular about this month.

“Happy birthday, Daddy,” you whispered in his ear, kissing his earlobe making him shiver. How even when a stripper was giving him a lap dance the reaction he got from you was so much more intense.

“It’s your birthday?” Chanel gasped finally turning around. “Why didn’t you say so?” She asked, putting her hands on either side of his shoulders so she could sink down on him again this time straddling him. Tits all in his face as she sat like that.

Chris chuckled. “Yup that’s why we’re here,” he said. “My girl’s never done this before.”

“What!” She gasped again and pouted at you. “Awww. Oh my gosh maybe I need to be dancing on you.”

“Oh you should definitely give her a dance,” Chris said with a wink.

He could see you tense up almost worrying that he’d taken it too far but he still wanted to see what would happen. Chanel moving moved off of him to you relaxing as you started giggling when she moved towards you.

The dancer giggled back the two of you starting off on your own little conversation. She was clearly trying to make you feel more comfortable. “That’s my good girl,” he leaned over to whisper in your ear. “My girl is down for anything I tell her to be, huh?”

You nodded at him as Chanel put her knee between your legs as she gyrated along your thigh. “You two are so damn cute,” she cooed.

At some point she moved back to Chris and you’d gotten so worked up that you couldn’t help yourself as you started kissing his neck. Honestly if the two of you hadn’t gotten out of there when you did, he would have popped.

Hadn’t even bothered to go back to his friends, just texting one that the two of you were leaving. His hand in yours as you went to the car.

“You doing okay?” He asked before he could open up the door for you.

“Mhm,” you hummed back with a smile.

“Did you have fun?”

“Mhm,” you hummed again, seeming to be lost in your head.

Chris found himself really wanting to kiss you. Fuck after all that he was really pent up. You put your hands around his neck as he pushed against you. Wanting you to feel his hard on.

He was just happy you were kissing him back. Had worried about scaring you off. That was a lot for you all at once. He didn’t want to completely overwhelm you tonight.

“Are you having a good birthday?” You asked him

“Course I am,” he replied with a smile before pecking your lips again. “My naughty little girl letting me play with a stripper in front of her. What would your husband have to say about that?” He teased.

You always giggled whenever he did that and this time was no different. Smacking his shoulder and scoffing. “Probably have a heart attack,” you said.

“Do you think he’d call your dad like when he found your sex toys?” Chris laughed making you do the same. God, that had been so embarrassing.

By then you’d already told Chris your dilemma. How you wanted to explore. He’d of course taken it upon himself to fund your exploration. By now he’d had a lot of fun using them on you. Shame your ex saw them as competition and not teammates. Maybe he could have kept you around.

“Oh, definitely,” you replied. “Woulda snatched me up.”

“Yeah? Sucks for him cuz I’d have to snatch you back,” he said before kissing you again. You moaned into his mouth, nails clawing into his shoulder.

“Fuck, Chris,” you moaned into his mouth making him smirk.

Fuck he needed to get you home.

It was like you’d grown impatient during the car ride that it was taking so long to get there that you couldn’t keep your hands off of him. Not like he didn’t know how needy you could get.

Hell if he’d known how you would end up reacting to having another woman twerking on him, he would have done it sooner. When you said you wanted to try new things, you’d fucking meant it, but damn he hadn’t been expecting it like this.

“What’d you think about Chanel?” He asked. Wanting to push things a step further. “You didn’t feel weird seeing me with her?”

“I mean… I dunno. I wouldn’t call it weird…”

“Yeah?” He asked. “What would you call it? Did you like it?” You bit your lip. Getting all shy on him. Except that wasn’t good enough for him. How was this supposed to work if you weren’t going to talk to him. “Ah, ah. You know better. I wanna know what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.”

You nodded. “I mean… yeah I guess I did.”

“What about when she was all over you? Did you like that too.” You bit your lip again and he had to glance over at you when you once again hesitated on your answer.

You caught yourself before he could say anything. Good girl. “I mean… yeah… it was fun.”

“Oh, come on. I saw you moaning and shit. You don’t have to act all shy. I know you liked it.” He glanced back over at you quickly. Happy as hell you two were almost home. “In fact, I gotta say I’m pretty proud of you for how you handled yourself tonight.”

“You are?”

“Yeah,” he said with a smile. “You know, when you told me you wanted to try something’s out I wasn’t expecting you to go this far.”

“I wasn’t either,” you replied. “But you’re right it did feel good.”

“That’s my girl,” he said. “You know you can always tell me anything.”

“I know, Daddy. Thank you.”

“Always, Baby,” he said, grabbing your hand so he could place a kiss to it. He liked that he could push you. Made him wonder what else he could push you to do.

By the time you got home he was already trying to put his hands on you. Kissing you against after he helped you out of the car even though normally you tried to be discrete about your relationship just in case one of the neighbors saw.

As far as everyone knows you were literally just friends. No way Chris would take advantage of a sweet innocent girl like you. If only they fucking knew.

And you didn’t seem to care this time. Letting him grab all on you. Cuz you knew better than to tell him to stop. Fuck all he could think about was getting inside of you.

As soon as you got in the house, Dodger was at your feet. Stopping whatever action as he greeted the two of you. Then whimpering for Chris to take him out. You giggled before pecking his lips again as he groaned.

“I’m gonna go shower,” you told him as you started to walk away from him.

There wasn’t much he could do to rush Dodger. Not that he didn’t try. Goddamn you were really upstairs. Naked in his shower and he was outside making sure his dog used the bathroom. Fucking great.

“Come on, Bubba,” he said finally getting him back inside. Ready to sprint upstairs to you.

He could see you behind the foggy glass still washing up. He just wanted to fuck you so bad right now. To feel you against him. That pussy wrapped around him. Couldn’t get undressed fast enough.

You jumped as he wrapped his arms around your soft body. Curves glistening with water. Damn you had really turned him into an addict, but it was like where the hell was he supposed to find another you. Someone so sweet and cute that would let him do what he’s about to do to you. Fuck yeah he was addicted.

As he opened up the door he stared at you as he caught you playing with your pussy. Eyes closed as you breathed heavily. Good you wanted this just as bad as him. Fingers working over your clit.

Funny a year ago the thought of you even touching yourself seemed like a step too far. Now you were doing it in his shower after what had just happened less than an hour ago.

“D-daddy,” you whimpered.

He needed to fucking have you. “Starting without me, Babe?” He asked, making you jump and open your eyes. You gasped as you looked up at him and he chuckled. “My poor baby, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Then he pouted out his bottom lip before pulling you into his arms.

He leaned down to kiss you finally. His tongue caressing against yours. Grabbing onto that thick ass. Fuck he wanted you so bad.

“You get all nice and clean for me?” He asked, having pulled away. “Or did you get too distracted playing with my pussy?”

“I got distracted.”

“My little slut. Couldn’t keep her hands to herself.”

Chris remembered the first time you asked him to call you names. He wasn’t sure how you would react but all you did was moan for him even louder and repeat it back. That’s when he first knew just how far gone he’d gotten you.

“Tell me what you were thinking about, Baby? Had you moaning for me for a reason.”

“About you letting Chanel dance all over you in front of me,” you whimpered.

“Yeah?” He asked. “That turn you on?”

You nodded. “Uh huh. She was all over you.”

“My naughty slut liked seeing another woman all over me.” He chuckled.

“It made me want you so bad.”

“I know, Baby. It made me want you too,” he said before pressing his lips to yours again.

It didn’t take long for his fingers to end up on you now. Picking up from where you’d left off. You crying out for him to fuck you. Needy as hell.

Turning around so you could rub your ass against him as he finger fucked you. “Please, Daddy,” you mewled.

“What is it?”

“I want your dick in me,” you moaned.

“I want you to finish up and go wait on the bed for me, okay?”

You pouted. “But-,”

“But, nothing. You fucking heard me,” he snapped and that was that. You finished washing up and went to finish getting ready for bed. You didn’t want to spend the rest of the night getting punished so you better do what he tells you.

As bad as he just wanted to fuck the shit out of you, he knew how you got when he made you wait. Pushing you and then denying you. Fuck he loved it.

Once again you were there touching yourself. The toy you kept over here in your hand. Greedy fucking slut couldn’t fucking wait.

“Did I tell you, you could use your fucking toy?” He asked with an eyebrow raise.

“No,” you squeaked as you didn’t remove that damn rose from your clit.

He climbed in next to you. Taking hold of the rose. “So horny you just can’t fucking control yourself, huh?”

“Uh huh,” you answered, biting your lip. “Fuck, Daddy,” you whimpered. He started kissing your neck making you cry out. His lips quickly finding your nipples. “Oh my god,” you cried. “Fuck, please, fuck!”

He put the toy to the side when he finally couldn’t resist. Had been dying to eat you out for hours. Needed to taste you.

“Chris!” You gasped and that’s when he knew he had you right where he wanted you. Had you gasping his name as he ate you out like he was starving.

“And you better not fucking cum yet,” he cooed.

He remembered the first time he’d made you cum. You hadn’t even know what the hell that meant. Figured he could show you better than he could tell you and wanted the honors of being the first one to do it for you.

Had gotten you all worked up until you squirted all over his sheets. Had gotten you all embarrassed about it too. Couldn’t believe your husband had never done this for you. Fucking worthless.

He was tempted to see if he could get you worked up like that again except he wanted to fuck you too bad. Didn’t even want to wait for you to suck his dick before finally pushing into you. Cuz this was the first time he was going to feel you for real.

“Chris!” You sobbed as you wrapped your legs around him. “Yes!” You dug your fingernails into his back. Crying out for him in his ear. “Please. Oh, god. I need it. Don’t stop.”

“I’m not gonna stop,” he groaned, grabbing your hands to push them above your head. Pumping his cock in and out of you. “Fucking slut needed my dick bad, didn’t you?”

“Uh huh,” you whimpered, lolling your head back. Fuck he felt so good so deep inside of you. Your ex had never been able to do shit like this to you.

It was funny how easy Chris brought the freak out in you. Had definitely gotten you to this point you don’t think any other man could have ever brought out.

Porn didn’t do what he did to you any justice. You hadn’t been expecting for it to feel like this. Didn’t seem real that something everyone had told you was so bad felt so good, but never this good.

“Please, Daddy,” you whimpered as he hit those bundle of nerves. “Fuck you feel so fucking good.”

“Yeah? I didn’t put a condom on this time, Baby,” he finally told you. “Gonna see what happens if I stuff you with my cum.”

“What do you mean?” You asked him.

“See if I can put my baby in you,” he grunted. “Don’t you wanna know?”

“But, Eddie-,” you were saying.

“Don’t you fucking say his name when my dick is inside of you,” he said, putting his hand around your neck. “I don’t give a fuck what he couldn’t do.”

And he meant every word of that. Only rocking his hips deeper into you. Feeling as you tightened up around him when he grabbed your throat. Eyes getting all blurry and teary.

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered.

“That’s right, Baby. You should be. You should fucking know better by now. I think you like saying dumb shit sometimes.”

You let out such an embarrassing moan and he let out a chuckle through his deep breathing. God he loved seeing how worked up you got from being shamed like that.

“Just cuz he couldn’t fuck a baby into you, doesn’t mean I won’t,” Chris said into your ear wanting to keep it going. “Chanel already thought you were my girlfriend. Might as well make you my girl for real, huh?”

You let out another moan with your face all screwed up. Goddamn he was getting you close. “Okay.”

“That’s my pretty girl,” he cooed. “You’re gonna let me fuck my baby into you?”

“Yes,” you whimpered. “Fuck you’re gonna make me- ah!” You cried as you came. Finally getting the release you’d been needing.

“That’s a good girl,” he said before pulling out so he could turn you over. Making sure your ass was in the air. What can he say, he loved manhandling you.

Pushing your cheeks to the side so he could see the wetness from your pussy dripping down to his sheets. He needed to play with it again. Putting his thumb against your slit so he could rub up and down before going to your clit.

“Yeah you want me to get you pregnant, don’t you?” He said. “I bet you’ve been waiting for it. And your pathetic ass would do anything I wanted you to do, huh?”

Another embarrassing ass moan as you shuddered, as he pushed his pointer and middle fingers into you.

“Oh my god,” you cried into the pillow.

He doesn’t know what the fuck it was but all he knew was that he was mesmerized. Couldn’t help himself. Wanting to eat your pussy from the back. You jumped before moving your hips trying to get situated against his face.

God he was obsessed with the way you tasted. Could make a feast out of it. At this point he was so far he was ready to get as nasty as possible trying something he’d never tried before.

You gasped when his tongue touched your puckered hole. “Chris!” As if there was going to stop him. He moaned at the taste. Definitely not about to stop.

Chest heaving as thick moans fell from your lips. You were pretty sure he was trying to torture you.

Chris grabbed your toy again. Turning it back on so he could put it against your clit again. Listening to you scream out.

Finally he stopped just wanting to be inside of you again. It was like you brought out the fucking animal in him. That’s why he just needed to fucking breed you already.

Slamming into you and flexing his hips cuz he just really wanted you to feel it. Putting his hands on either side of your hips so he could dig his nails in.

“See what you fucking do to me?” He asked with a groan. “That’s why I can’t let you go. Gonna keep you under me. You want that too?”

“Yes,” you sobbed. “Fuck. Please. I want you so bad. You’re gonna make me fuckin’ cum again.”

“That’s it, Baby. I want you to cum for me. Want you to keep cumming on my dick.”

Eyes rolling to the back of your head at his words. Couldn’t hold yourself up anymore so you ended up collapsing against the pillows. Chris going with it so he could lay on top of you. Riding your ass as deep as he could as you sobbed.

“Gonna make me a daddy for my birthday, huh?” He asked into your ear.

Why did he have to talk to you like that. Did he have no mercy?

“Fuckin’ answer me,” he said. That Boston accent coming out into your ear. Making you shiver and moan.

“Yes,” you cried.

“Good, Baby. Cuz I’m gonna cum so deep in you.” He groaned. Feeling it creep up in his balls. Knew he wouldn’t be able to pull out even if he wanted to.

“Please,” you moaned.

“And it’s okay if you don’t get pregnant from this time. We’ll just try again and again and again.”

For some reason that was what did. To be honest if it didn’t happen this time he’d be shocked because he found himself shoving in all the way to the hilt so he could cum against your cervix. Just like fucking instinct. Goddamn he doesn’t think he’d ever had an orgasm that intense before.

You laid down with a whimper with him collapsing on top of you. Dick softening before falling out of you.

Scooping you up like he always did so you had to lay all up against him. Really you’d been his girl for a minute. It was about time he officially claimed you.

Especially six weeks later, when the two of you got to see the look on everyone’s faces when you’d pulled up to announce that you were expecting.

#fics by afbh #chris evans smut #Chris Evans fic #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans x black female reader #chris evans x plus size reader #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x poc!reader

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nhescio · 27 days

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Do you think he was ever in love with Bedelia like he was in love with Will? I ask this because Bedelia says they were both the "brides of Hannibal". But Hannibal never courted her like he did with Will, Bedelia came into Hannibal's life much before Will but he never pursued her like he did with Will. Mads said he wanted a future with Will unlike with other people he hooked up with Alana, Bedelia or Anthony. He took her to Italy as a consolation prize when Will betrayed him. Even in Italy H was pining about Will all the time and telling Bedelia how much he loves Will. I know he slept with Bedelia but he probably slept with Anthony too and he slept with Alana, Hannibal is a hedonistic guy who sleeps around. For him sleeping with someone doesn't mean he is in love with them. But when Will confronts Bedelia, she pretends as if Hannibal held them in the same regard which is obviously not true. Hannibal would choose Will over her in a heart beat and even she knows it but yet she acts as if Hannibal sees them both equally. I don't understand why? 😭 Why do you think?why make herself seem like a competition when she is not?

Wow. Okay. First of all, thanks for your ask! I'm surprised you chose to send it to me, but I'm glad that you did :D

For your question, if I could only choose "yes" or "no", I lean a towards a "no", but of course, how I feel is a lot more nuanced than that. So, fair warning, this answer might be a bit long.

Personally, I read NBC's Hannibal as a completely different person than book Hannibal. (Not really that hot a take.) So since we're talking about the show, I just want to clarify that I don't see Hannibal as a psychopath/sociopath (aka still a person, but a person that happens to mentally compute the world differently). The writers and actors have mentioned again and again that their Hannibal was meant to be larger than life. He isn't someone that has the same morals as an average human because he isn't really human at all. His mindset is so divorced from that of society's that it is completely impossible for us to understand how he thinks and acts.

Because of this, I think technically, yes, Hannibal did love Bedelia. Was he "in love" with Bedelia though? No. And especially not "in love" like he was in love with Will.

I think Bedelia may have believed Hannibal letting her "see behind the veil" mind meant that she was an important person to Hannibal. Isn't that obvious to her? He even took her on his escape to Europe in place of Will! I think Hannibal really did care about Bedelia, but nowhere near the level he cared about Will.

We have to realize that everything we see on screen has to be taken with a grain of salt. There are often things hidden in the subtext- especially in a show like this. Unfortunately, that means we can never be sure of the motives of our favorite characters, but I don't see that as a negative. (This is what lets the community have their widely different "favorite headcanons" and write our delicious metas.)

I'm not going to say that this is exactly what happened or these are Bedelia's exact feelings, but I think ultimately, she overstated her relationship with Hannibal because she was looking to provoke Will. I can't be sure that Bedelia believed Hannibal loved her more than he really did (not that she fully reciprocated that love), but she definitely saw her status as something elevated. When she told Will that they were both Hannibal's brides, she was right in the fact that they both allowed to know the truth of Hannibal's motives. But, while she was given a peak in his doors (most likely because she was his pet therapist), Will was welcomed with open arms. Both she and Hannibal knew that Bedelia was in no way equal to Will, even if she pretends to be later on in her sessions with Will.

I don't completely understand why Bedelia chose this route, but maybe there were hours of Hannibal whining about Will that she had to endure that we don't know about. Bedelia is likely just using her experience with Hannibal to gloat, since she was smart enough to distance herself to not get hurt. She would be elevating herself into a position of mental superiority to Will since he came out completely changed and scarred. She was just interesting enough that Hannibal wouldn't kill her and smart enough that he wouldn't physically hurt her since she isn't completely under his thumb. (Also, by that point, Will was probably the only person she could discuss these things openly with since Hannibal was incarcerated, but I digress.) What she didn't realize though, is that Will was just as dangerous to her safety, if not more, than Hannibal. I've seen an amazing analysis on here comparing Bedelia to Gideon since both had taken roles that they didn't have the right to- Bedelia as Will and Gideon as the Ripper. This is why their "punishments" parallel each other, with both being forced to consciously consume what they know is their own human flesh.

TLDR: No, Hannibal was not in love with Bedelia like he was in love with Will. Yes, Hannibal did hold some level of love for Bedelia, just like he did for Alana (and to a lesser extent, Jack). Bedelia, probably too used to being able to squirm out of tight situations, chose to provoke Will by gloating about her clean escape instead of prioritizing her own safety. What she didn't realize was that any affection Hannibal holds towards her is nothing in comparison to his willingness to fulfil Will's whims. (Which is why they chopped off her leg to eat.) Basically, all the stars aligned (negatively in this case) and Bedelia made every wrong choice at the finish line which led to her fate at the end of the series.

Did this response completely derail from your question? Maybe, so I'm sorry about that. Anyway, if you made it this far, thanks for reading!

#hannibal #nbc hannibal #will graham #hannibal lecter #hannigram #bedelia du maurier #hannibal meta

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bethanydelleman · 2 months

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Thanks for the tag @firawren & @glassslippers-n-cowboyboots

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 45

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 208,023. And that's a bit surprising because a bunch of my longer fics are only on AHA or my website.

3. What fandoms do you write for? Mostly Jane Austen, all novels, Elizabeth Gaskell (Wives & Daughters), and Anne Bronte (The Tenant of Wildfell Hall). I have also technically written Oscar Wilde and My Happy Marriage, but those were very transformative.

I also have written some fics based on Kdramas, mostly for Alchemy of Souls.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

A Ride to Netherfield - Jane breaks her leg on the way to Netherfield and must stay for a month. Short one-shot (6k) and the first Pride & Prejudice variation I wrote.

Of Every Elizabeth - short and sweet Pride & Prejudice fluff, Darcy has nicknames for the plethora of Elizabeth's he's met over the course of his life (it was a super common name at the time)

Carry Me! - three vignettes of Jang Uk and Cho Yeong from Alchemy of Souls after they are married

The Fourth Bennet Sister - long fic (30k words), Pride & Prejudice variation where Kitty Bennet becomes aware that she is in a novel. She desperately tries to protect her sisters from harm.

All's Fair in Love and War - short Pride & Prejudice variation. Mrs. Bennet has weaponized compromise, men live in constant fear of being forced to marry.

5. Do you respond to comments? Yep. Every time.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Umm.... I'm not good at writing angst. I don't like characters to suffer for too long.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? All of them?

8. Do you get hate on fics? Yes, because I dared to write Mr. Darcy marrying Anne Elliot. People get more angry about that for some reason than Elizabeth Bennet marrying Captain Wentworth in the same fic. Someone even told me Darcy would rather "throw himself off of Pemberley" rather than marry anyone other than Elizabeth. (Fic is called One Week Late)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I have written smut a few times, it's pretty vanilla because I am pretty vanilla. I was reading Victorian erotica when I wrote my longest one, A Little Before Their Marriage (Jane & Bingley fic).

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? I constantly write crossovers, my first published novel is a massive crossover, Prideful & Persuaded. One of my fun shorts is Fall on the Sword, where every canonically single woman in Austen's novels decides if they want to try for the recently divorced Mr. Rushworth.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not as far as I know.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? No, though someone did translate one of my meta posts from Tumblr. That was cool.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes, The Marriage Contest with Branch Cloudsky and two with Amelia Marie Logan, Poor Caroline and Inferior Connections. All Pride & Prejudice fics, all funny. (You need an AO3 account for that one, the other two are on my personal website)

14. What’s your all time favourite ship? Catherine Morland & Henry Tilney. They are the only Austen couple I cannot bear to break up.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I am writing a queer retelling of Emma called "Different Ways of Being in Love", where Jane Fairfax and Emma were lovers as teenagers, Jane is bi, Emma is a lesbian, and Mr. Knightley is ace, but I got stuck on the middle part. Someday hopefully!

16. What are your writing strengths? I'm told I write some pretty hilarious farces. I am told I do characterization well, which is my main goal when writing fan fiction. I try to stick as close to canon as possible.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I don't write enough filler or develop things well enough. I like writing action.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I would possibly try my hand at French, but probably never. I also have a lot of trouble reading accented speech (looking at you Wuthering Heights), so I'd probably never write it.

19. First fandom you wrote for? I am fairly certain I started writing a fix-it fic for Nineteen Eighty-Four after I read it in high school. Not sure I would be able to locate it but it did exist. The first since I started writing again was a sequel to Pride & Prejudice.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? Probably Unfairly Caught (my other published work) or The Fourth Bennet Sister. I NEEDED to write a Mansfield Park fic because I hate the ending, so it fixed my dissatisfied feelings. My goal is to edit The Fourth Bennet Sister and get it published sometime this year.

@wurzelbertzwerg, @kehlana-wolhamonao3 and @bad-at-names-and-faces

#tag game #personal #fan fiction #jane austen fan fiction #of course all my highest kudos works are P&P

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freedomfireflies · 2 years

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i need to know their relationship process! how did they fall in love?? did they just accept the fact that they were married and went on with it? or did they have a plan to divorce?

“Why the fuck are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re about to suggest that maybe we don’t do this.”

“I…psh, no. I wasn’t…I wasn’t gonna…no—”

“Harry, are you fucking kidding me?”

“Well—” Harry’s hands raise in defense, eyebrows lifting. “You heard the lawyer. It’s technically a legal, binding contract and since we consummated the union—”

“Ew. Ew. Don't ever say that again—”

“We fucked like a couple of bunnies,” he corrects, offering a much too pleased smirk. “Which means we can’t annul the marriage and we’d have to get an actual divorce—”

“Still not seeing the problem—”

“—which is a lot of work, and money, and time.”

You offer a pointed look from your side of the elevator. “Right and don’t you have…all the money? I’m sure Rebecca has contributed to at least half of your bank account with all the fucking ugly-ass merch she buys, so I know you can swing it—”

His eyes narrow as he snorts. “That’s not the point—”

“Okay, then what’s the point? Is your image too squeaky clean for a divorce?” Your tone is mocking but the longer he takes to answer, the harder the realization hits you. “Oh.”

“Listen, it’s not…it would just be a whole thing,” he sighs, pinching at his lids. “And it would just be another mess to clean up and it’s not like we don’t know each other—”

“We don’t know each other—”

“Well, we can learn.” His arms cross, expression hopeful. “Why don’t we just…give it a couple months, yeah? We don’t have to tell anyone, and we can just…get to know each other. See if maybe we were meant to find our way to that chapel—”

“We weren’t.”

“Well, you don’t know that—”

“No, I do. I would never marry a guy who likes Dancing Queen over Gimme, Gimme—”

“Okay, see, and that’s why our kids will have my music taste—”

“I’m sorry, our what—”

“Hey, listen, the men in my family have incredibly strong sperm, I’m just saying it’s a possibility—”

“Oh my God, stop talking. Stop talking right now. Please—”

“Fine, they can have your tone-deaf taste—”

“Harry, I swear to God, I’ll shove you out the fucking window right now. I’ll widow myself if that’s what it takes—”

“That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think—”

“I think shoving you would be a lot kinder than what I initially had in mind.”

His brow raises, the smug smile slipping back into place. “Oh?”

“Ew, not like that—”

“Sorry, just…going off last night. Didn’t peg you as the type to have a blood kink, but—”

“Yeah? So? You’re the masochist who enjoys being called my sweet boy—”

“Hey, sometimes guys wanna be taken care of too, you know—”

“I…okay, that’s fair—”

“Yeah, see? Exactly.”

The elevator continues to move down the many floors of the near skyscraper they call an office building. After finally coming to terms with your mistake this morning, Harry had called his manager, who immediately found the best lawyer money could buy.

Suffice to say the appointment didn’t go well.

And while you’re a tad disappointed to be leaving still married to number four on your If I Had To Fuck A One Direction Member, Who Would It Be list, you can’t deny that things truly could be worse.

You might not remember every detail, but you do remember having at least a little bit of fun.

Especially last night.

Especially.

You can tell he’s beginning to recall the same image, his eyes lowering as he braces his hands against the elevator railing.

The tension is palpable, the air thick with unspoken promises and mutual longing.

You remember running your fingers through his curls, tugging his head back as you squeezed his throat. Until he offered that damn smirk of his. Until he was begging you to kiss him.

Needy little thing.

“Don’t.” His voice, gravely and coarse speaks up from a few feet away, and your eyes flick to his.

“Don’t what?”

His head cocks to the side. “Don’t fucking look at me like that.”

“Like what?” You teasingly bat your lashes, pulling your lip between your teeth before leaning back against the railing as well.

“Don’t,” he repeats, and you can physically see his resolve beginning to crumble with every moment that passes.

“Why?” You drop the rhythm of your voice to a sensual purr. “Aren’t you my sweet boy?”

He makes a noise deep in the back of his throat before pushing off the elevator wall to stride toward you.

His hands cement themselves to the wall beside your head as he leans down, dangerously close to your self-control.

“Don’t,” he says now for the third time. “Because if you start this game, I’ll have to finish it.”

You straighten up, nothing if not a fair player, eyeing him closely. “Oh, that’s cute you think you can.”

A scoff, a playful smile on his lips. “Don’t test me, princess.”

“It’s Daddy…” you correct within an instant, dipping a bit closer. “…to you.”

A moment of silence. A pause in your determination that’s met with the sound of his palm reaching out to smack the emergency power button, bringing the ride to a quick and sudden halt.

“All right, Daddy,” he murmurs, lips ghosting yours. “But let’s just be clear…just because you’re my wife doesn’t mean I won’t fuck you like a whore.”

“Yeah?” You can’t resist the smug grin as you stretch yourself to your tiptoes to ghost your lips over his.

You hear his breath hitch. Watch the way his eyes flutter shut at the mere promise of your touch.

“Prove it.”

I couldn't help it, I hope whoever asked for the original doesn't mind hehe

So there's at least what their morning looked like!

Next Part:

~ Mr. & Mrs. Hey Soul Sister pt. 3*

Previous Part:

~ Mr. & Mrs. Hey Soul Sister pt. 1

~ Other Harry Blurbs

#harry #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles fan #harry styles request #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you

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cloakndagger2 · 9 months

Text

Emma Frost x Tony Stark married headcannons

So it feels like at this rate we might not be getting a real wedding or marriage out of Tony & Emma which imo feels like a missed opportunity to explore the marriage of convenience trope and have a divorce battle between 2 of the messiest bitches in Marvel, but who knows there’s still another issue to go and anything can happen. In the meantime here are some headcannons

Tony finds out Emma’s a bottle blonde and teases her about it but makes up for it by helping her apply the hair dye in the bathroom

Tony is coy about his whereabouts one day and Emma follows him and finds out about his AA meetings. She listens in to his sharing for a bit before wanting to give him his privacy and heads back home. Eventually Tony tells her about the meetings in his own time

Tony nicknames her Em & Sparkles(which technically isn’t a hc since it happened in the comics ig I just think he would do it often)

In a similar vein Emma is always referring to him as Anthony. So much so that when another telepath or maybe shapeshifter tries to trick Tony into believing they’re Emma he catches on when the trickster refers to him as Tony instead of Anthony

Emma helps him tend to his bruises/wounds

The first time Tony catches Emma wearing his shirt immediately the heart eyes pop out. 1) because it’s the first time he sees her in something so casual 2) because well it’s his shirt duh

The first time Emma tries to cook for Tony is the last time Emma ever tries to cook for Tony as it ends with him putting out a fire and them ordering shawarma. He appreciated the effort though

They bond over their upbringings and daddy issues

Emma mocks Tony for being unimpressive without his suit. Tony in return mocks Emma for being unimpressive without her powers. Leads to them having a sparring session to settle it. Let’s just say they both win

Emma always acts disinterested when Tony rants about his tech stuff but she secretly loves seeing him nerd out about something he’s passionate about

When Riri meets Emma at first she thinks she’s sus(and it’s Emma so like fair) but eventually Riri warms up to her, but not enough to accept her job offers to work at Frost International. And unlike with Tony, Emma never pretends to be disinterested in Riri’s inventions. It’s always obvious she’s super invested, and when Tony calls her out on it Emma just says it’s because Riri’s way cooler than him(which she is)

Tony spoils the Stepford Cuckoos rotten, like even Emma thinks it’s a little much

Emma shows him some moves she learned back when she danced at the Hellfire Club

They calm each other down after waking up from nightmares

Emma initially assumes that since their marriage is a marriage of convenience he has no interest in being faithful or monogamous. Plus she’s used to feeling like 2nd choice because of Scott. It surprises her when Tony is willing to stay faithful and treat her like the queen she is

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tamtamandtim · 2 months

Text

So I’ve finished Moominvalley season 2 (2019) and my god I loved it but it hurt me so much in return holy wow. Anyway if you’d like some of my thoughts about it feel free to keep reading ^-^

(fair warning it’s a lot longer than I thought it’d be)

Episode 2 the fire spirit got me so bad in my feelings and even funnier yet I could tell it would by not only the title and thumbnail but the second I heard the song by cavetown I literally was like ‘hm it sounds like something by cavetown…This should be fine’

oh how wrong I was because of how it ended with the little fire spirit sacrificing itself to save Moominvalley and how upset Snufkin was, he seemed to be pretty attached to the lil goober when the gang dropped it off.

So having his care and attempts to protect it, be basically for nothing would’ve been soul crushing for him.

Holywow I loved how the Hobgoblin and Sniff were just bouncing off eachother so well. Then the Hobgoblin giving Sniff ✨EMPATHY✨ my god that was amazing, especially with how Moominpapa and Little My were like “ew get away from me”

I love how the Groke is now just becoming a more casual part of the community especially with the trial episode, like don’t get me wrong they’re still uneasy with her presence but they still wanted to give her a fair trial and everything.

Ooooh no the ✨The bad feelings✨ I was having about Snorkmaiden and Moomintroll were riiiighttttt. Moomintroll seemed more angry about having to leave the valley (and Snufkin by association) than leaving Snorkmaiden to the point he was unintentionally hurting her. Twice. Technically thrice if you include the fact they broke up. But I’m glad that Moomintroll is beginning to learn that he’s gonna have to accept a couple of things about Snufkin, if he ever wants him to stay. But still kinda hurts a bit.

I loved that Moominpapa and Moominmama have character arcs that don’t involve getting divorced, it’s refreshing and sure they still fight and have moments being mad at eachother but at the end of the day they still love each other and honestly? I love them for that.

Ah Moominpapas midlife crisis, I hope that I can be able to just pack up and go when I hit mine. Sounds like the dream honestly and I wish I could be as creative as Moominmama, just painting the walls with no worries.

I also LOVED the sea shanties just 👌😩 it brings me so much joy because there was a good chunk of time where that’s all I’d listen too.

The last episode though also gave me a gut punch because of the fact Snufkin came back before he left for the winter, and that he just welcomes himself in because he knows that they wouldn’t mind him being there, regardless of if they are or not. I hate it here. Snufkin you found family fuck. And that everyone there played ‘The Moomin Family’ for the kid.

“Have you checked his bedroom yet?”

“Naturally c:”

of course you have you absolute loser I love you for that. Seeing him get so excited about possibly finding HIS letter, only to be disappointed was devastating too.

Oh but the puppet show, oh when I tell you I almost cried, It’s even sadder that Moomintroll (seemingly) isn’t going to back to Moominvalley. Also my heart dropped to my ass when they almost lit the fire with the ancestors inside, but Snufkin excitedly finding the note inside the fireplace? Put my heart right back in my throat

But more lightheartedly damn Snufkin has got some moves and seeing everyone close to the Moomin family looking back at their time and memories together fondly was so incredibly sweet.

Anyways TL;DR a super strong season that got me right in the feels every time, I’m so excited to be able to start the 3rd season soon!! But thank you so much for reading this! I hope you have a wonderful day, night or time and take care!!

#snufkin #little my #moomins #moomintroll #moominvalley #snufkin moomin #melody of moominvalley #moomin valley #moominmama #moominpapa #snorkmaiden #moominvalley 2019

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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 1 year

Text

Under Orders - Part 4

Masterlist

Part 1 ��Part 2🔹Part 3🔹Part 4🔹Part 5

Pairing: Dom!August x reader || Dom!Marshall x reader

Summary: August decides to tease you when your new neighbor comes over to watch the game...

Word count: 5.9k

Warnings: NSFW, SMUT, 18+, MINORS DNI, BDSM, D/s dynamic (technically D/s/D), praise kink, (semi-)suspension bondage, p-in-v sex (unprotected, creampie), anal sex (toys, fingering, p-in-a) (f receiving) (unprotected, anal creampie), double penetration (toys), use of pet names/titles (Daddy, Sir, princess, kitten, sweetheart, love, darling and bunny), established polyamorous relationship, very light spanking, voyeurism, exhibitionism, phone (video) sex, slight humiliation/degradation, slight objectification, bratty behavior, punishment/funishment, also check-ins and aftercare...

A/N: My dear, dear Charlie! I have been thinking about what you said way back in March, and even though my brain was already playing around with an idea for a part 4, I ended up nixing that idea and... well... Going with yours, really, while also making precisely 0 promises because I couldn't really see it yet. Then, I proceeded to struggle with this for 3 months while also teasing you - which I feel is a fair reaction to your bullying 😝 By now, of course, you know me a little, so I'm guessing you already knew this was coming despite my very deliberately not actually telling you. (I'm sorry, I just didn't want to disappoint in case I really couldn't wrap my brain around that combo.)

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @keanureevesisbae @fvckinghenrycavill @peaches1958 @know1udno @dedicated-to-mr-cavill @7eamfan7asy @ylva-stark @summersong69 @kingliam2019 @mayloma @sloppyzengarden @youve-yeed-yer-last-haw @sillyrabbit81 @ellethespaceunicorn @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @livisss @sycochick

Burly, handsome, and retired from the army. It’s a good thing a man like that hadn’t moved in next to some picture perfect, suburban, American dream couple, because that’s how folks like that end up divorced. Instead, he had moved in next door to you and August. Not that you don’t consider what you have ‘perfect’, and God knows there are plenty of pictures, but it’s a far cry from the bland housewife scenario that usually comes with the type of neighborhood you live in. That said, it’s probably for the best you don’t live anywhere that shares any walls with the next house – you can’t imagine the noise complaints you’d get.

The first weeks are quiet; you check him out form a safe distance, you smile and wave, and you don’t go much beyond friendly introductions. His name is Sy – an abbreviation of his last name; he doesn’t use his first name for whatever reason. He was Special Forces, now working personal security somewhere downtown. It doesn’t get much deeper than that. You purposely keep your conversations short, not least of all because you’re scared that you’ll end up flirting with him a little too much if you don’t.

While you’re putting in all this effort to keep your mind out of the gutter, August grins like some kind of lunatic every time he catches you looking a little too long, or glancing over your shoulder a second time when you walk past him, but he doesn’t say anything about it. Until one day, when you pull into the driveway at the same time Sycomes back from his run, and you spend your time shamelessly undressing him with your eyes while August talks to him. It's not a lot of work, he’s just wearing shorts, so you have the added bonus of not having to guess what his chest looks like. He’s big – at least as big as Marshall – and there’s an impressive collection of scars on him that you probably shouldn’t be staring at. Somewhere over the course of that conversation, you hear August suggest that Sy should come over to have a drink and watch the game – an offer he gladly accepts.

“What are you doing?” There’s absolutely no point in pretending; August knows you may just have a tiny little huge crush on this guy, and he’s going to torment you over it.

“Inviting our neighbor over,” August says, raising an eyebrow. It’s a challenge, which is strange, because he hardly ever gives you those. It’s Marshall who doesn’t mind a bit of lip from you every now and then, but August absolutely despises it. It’s one of the reasons that Augusts suggestion to share you with Marshall was a good one – and something that may have actually saved your relationship. “Go get dressed.”

You scoff when he says it. So he wants you all dolled up so he can toy with you all night before he ships you off to Marshall’s place needy and worked up? You’re not surprised: that’s exactly what you’d expect from him. But to do so in front of the new neighbor you barely even know…

“You’re going to punish me over a little…” you can’t bring yourself to say the word ‘crush’ – it sounds juvenile and wrong, even though your being in a relationship with two guys is hardly conventional and feels so right it makes you scared you’ll burst. Is it really so weird that you’re possibly considering three now?

You’re so caught up in your thoughts that you don’t notice August as he closes the distance between the two of you. When he grabs your neck, you shriek.

“Upstairs, now.” He’s already had enough of your attitude – and you’re not even giving him any, really. He drags you up the stairs and into the bedroom. The clothes that are laid out on the bed are a surprise; a light dress that shows you off in all the right ways, heels that are just a little over the top for casual drinks at your own house. The underwear is to Marshall’s taste, not his own – but that’s just preparation for later, and definitely something you already saw coming. The dress and shoes mean something else, though: August isn’t trying to torment you, he’s going to be parading you around. And not just for his own pleasure, either, you suspect.

“Do you get it now?” he asks.

“You want to show me off,” you whisper.

“Oh, yes. And not just that,” August says as he pulls you closer until your back is against his chest. His hand moves from the nape of your neck to cover your throat. When he speaks again, his lips brush against your ear, and you moan softly at the sensation. “I’m trying to get my pretty little whore what she wants. Am I still the bad guy?”

“No,” you say softly. Of course that’s met with a tightening grip on your throat. And he’s right: you’re forgetting something. “No, Daddy.”

“Good girl,” he growls in your ear as he lets go of you again, fingers still lingering. “It might take some time, though. ‘Do you want to get in on fucking my girlfriend’ isn’t exactly an opening line. Besides; I haven’t decided I can trust this guy yet. Can you be patient, princess?”

“Yes, Daddy.” You can certainly try…

“That’s my good girl,” he murmurs softly. “Hands on the wall.”

You do as he tells you, knowing all too well that not listening might land you a sore enough ass that Marshall will actively complain about not being able to touch it tonight. August kicks lightly at your feet, prompting you to spread them.

“I do intend to play with you a little, though.” You savor every drop of the sadistic chuckle behind his voice as he speaks.

There’s a reason August likes to see you in loose skirts like the one you’re wearing, and you’re very sure ‘easy access’ is eighty percent of it. He drags your panties to the side and two fingers slip into your pussy with embarrassing ease.

“God, kitten, you’re so wet already,” he groans. “You’re such a perfect little slut for Daddy.” All you can do is moan while August pulls his fingers out and moves them to your clit. The tight circles he draws around the swollen little pearl make you writhe your hips, leaning into his touch as he keeps rhythm and pressure steady at an intensity that’s just shy of enough to make you come.

“What does my needy baby want?” You silently curse him out for already taking you past being able to use your words. If you want to come, you’re going to have to speak, and he’s making it almost impossible.

“Please make me come, Daddy!” you whine. August is ruthless. He knows exactly how to touch you or what to do to turn you into a screaming, squirming mess in his arms. It’s impossible to hold back your orgasm, and he knows it.

“Do you want to come?” That’s a fucking redundant question. It takes everything you’ve got to choke back the attitude and just tell him ‘yes, Daddy’. “Alright then.” One more flick of his fingers has you crying out his name, and you struggle to stay upright, but he’s there to hold you, thank god. You’re not given a lot of time to come down from your high, because the next thing you know, your hips are dragged back a little as August pulls your underwear down as far as they’ll go.

“Stay put.” You wouldn’t dare to move, honestly. Besides, why would you want to? The nightstand opens and closes, and as soon as August is back behind you, you hear the very familiar sound of the bottle of lube being opened. You’re fairly sure you’d recognize that sound in your sleep by now.

“Are you okay, standing up?” Shit. You thought he was just planning on popping a plug in your ass to torture you a little through drinks with Sy, but he actually wants to go for a round right now? Bastard.

“I’m fine,” you say as you roll your eyes. Not that he can see them, but it’s the thought that counts. Besides: It doesn’t matter what you say you want, August knows better. He’s well aware of the fact that you can’t resist the prospect of anal sex anymore. You’ve been having way too much fun with that!

You hum contently when he works one, then two, then three fingers into your ass.

“Is it just me or did this take way more work in the beginning?” August asks. His voice is surprisingly casual, which makes you laugh. Marshall actually brought up the same thing a few weeks back. They’re not wrong, either. You know what to expect and how to relax now, and it really has become easier.

“I didn’t have a well-rehearsed asshole in the beginning,” you counter. A fierce smack on your behind startles you. The impact leaves your cheek stinging – a sensation you not only happen to love, but happen to crave from time to time.

“Stick that attitude somewhere it won’t bother me, princess,” August says.

“Can’t,” you reply, “got three fingers shoved up there already.”

“Four,” he says casually, but you can tell he’s annoyed. “And that’s all the backtalk I’m going to allow. One more toe out of line, and you won’t be allowed touch that pretty pussy for a week. And by the time I’m taking you to Sir, you’re going to want to, trust me.” That sounds promising. You’re increasingly curious about what he’s got planned for you.

“Sorry, Daddy,” you say softly. He answers with nothing but a soft chuckle before pulling his fingers out of you and replacing them with something you personally consider to be much more fun.

“Oh, God! Yes please!” There’s no way to say that softly. For a moment, you wonder if there’s a better feeling in the world than August sliding his cock into your ass – only to decide shortly after that the only thing that’s better is when he does it again, and again, and again. Since your first adventure taking both August and Marshall at the same time, neither of them seem to be as scared to hurt you anymore, and they’ve only been becoming rougher and rougher with you. It’s fucking amazing, to be honest.

August doesn’t even bother to pretend he’s trying to last. The point of all this, judging from his actions after he pulls his dick out of your ass again, was to leave Marshall a surprise later tonight. It sometimes surprises you how okay your guys are with it when they hand you over with one – or several – loads of cum still inside you. You’ve heard the term ‘free lube’ on several occasions, and while that’s true and a valid point, it also definitely isn’t. It’s preferable to them being thoroughly grossed out about it, though. This wouldn’t work if they were. You’re barely aware of August sliding your favorite plug in place – it’s no wonder; you’re still struggling to stand up on your own and you may or may not be a little cockdrunk.

“Do I have to wear it all night?” you whine. August laughs – a sadistic, cruel sound that drives you mad so quickly you’re afraid you’re actually dripping all over the floor – and drags you up by your hair, only to spin you around and pin you against the wall. He kisses you hard, forcing his tongue against your lips until you yield and let him in. He breaks the kiss as he works a hand between your bodies.

“No, princess. Don’t pretend you hate it, I know you love it when we plug your cute little ass.” His breath is hot on your ear and the tone in his voice makes you shiver with anticipation. He slips his hand between your legs, but where you expect to feel his fingers slide into your pussy, it’s something else. The jerk. “This is going to be far more annoying.”

“D-Daddy? Am I at least allowed to come, please?” The soft buzzing of the remote control vibrator is already driving you nuts. This is going to be hell.

“Yes, but you’ll have to do it quietly.” Quietly? Oh fuck! Sy is coming over. You’d forgotten about that for a moment. A quick round of anal will do that to a person, apparently.

“You’re a sadistic asshole,” you mutter under your breath.

“Do you want to say that to my face, princess?” August asks you as he raises an eyebrow at you. You know that eyebrow – that’s not a good eyebrow.

“No, Daddy. I’m sorry.”

“That’s what I thought. Get dressed.” And with those words, he disappears.

For a minute, you consider taking the vibrator out, but there’s no way he wouldn’t notice. Also, it’s not as fun. You like being toyed with. You like it when they get you all worked up and dripping wet, and then deny you your pleasure for a little while longer just so they can watch you go completely crazy. You love knowing that there’s always a chance they will decide you haven’t been good enough, and you can’t have what you want. You feel safe knowing that they may be in control, even go as far as taking away your ability to move, see or speak, but they’ll never abuse the power that you give them. You love them.

You finish getting dressed and you’re just admiring yourself in the mirror – August has a sense of style when he isn’t going to work in drab grey suits – when your phone rings. Marshall. Your heart jumps when you see his name on the screen, and you answer immediately.

“Hey! Excited for tonight? Got anything planned?” you ask. It was a pretty last-minute decision to have you spend the weekend at his place, so you figured there must be something going on.

“Not really.” It’s not new that he sounds tired – Marshall always sounds tired, and probably has since kindergarten – but his voice is unusually flat, which has you worried. August hasn’t said anything about any trouble, so it’s either something he doesn’t know about, or something he decided not to tell you.

“Baby, are you ok-aah!” You silently curse August for turning up the heat on the vibrations. Fuck, it feels good, but if this is any indication of what he’ll put you through when Sy gets here, you’re in for a rough ride.

“Darling? Is something wrong?” Marshall sounds concerned, which isn’t surprising, because you just screeched in his ear for no apparent reason, but it’s still not quite necessary. You tell him as much, but he doesn’t believe you. “Can I see you?”

Oh, sure thing, he can see you! It’s moments like these when the attitude you can’t give August bubbles up. The thought of making Marshall look forward to tonight maybe a little bit more excites you more than you could ever describe. You turn your camera on after letting yourself fall on the bed, waving your feet in the air behind you, hoping he’ll be able to see your shoes. Both of your men like you in heels – and not just because they make your ass look good.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Marshall asks. You’re fairly sure he can tell you’re turned on.

“I’m perfectly fi-oh. Dammit, August.” That tells him everything he needs to know, and he starts laughing.

“Do I need to remind you that you got him that toy for his birthday?” No, he doesn’t need to remind you of that, actually, you were perfectly well on your way cussing yourself out for that one. Big mistake. Delicious, perverted, perfect, huge mistake.

“This wasn’t about me; what’s up?” You ask, stifling the moans that August is causing by playing around with the settings of the vibrator.

“Fuck, if you keep moaning like that, you know what will be up.” He groans. His voice is so warm and deep – and you have such a thing for that kind of voice – that any moan, groan, grunt or growl coming from this man is automatically a wildly erotic noise. That’s something you don’t want to be thinking about right now – you’re having a tough enough time as it is. “Tough case, wrapped it up yesterday. That’s why I asked you to come over. I need some quality time with my girl.” You whine, both because of August’s never-ending shenanigans, and because that’s the sweetest thing you’ve heard in a while.

“And how are we going to spend that quality time?” you ask coyly. It’s not that there’s a wrong or a right answer to this question, it’s just that you want something to look forward to tonight. A happy place to go to when August tries to get you to make lewd as fuck sounds in front of the neighbor you’ve barely even talked to. “I was planning on takeout and a movie,” Marshall says, “but it seems August plans on handing you over to me all hot and bothered. It would be a shame to waste that.”

“Any suggestions?” You tilt your phone a bit to bring your cleavage into view. Since you’re laying on your stomach, resting on your elbows, your chest looks amazing – it would just be wrong to deny him the visual. You choke back a chuckle when you see Marshall lick his lips.

“I somehow finally got around to installing a hard point in the bedroom that we can play around with?” You’d been talking about it for a few weeks, and with every conversation, the thought of having all those extra options became more alluring. There may or may not have been some talk of suspension, even, and you would be the first to admit that the idea alone turns you on big time.

“Movie night or bondage,” you say, laughing softly, “that’s a seriously tough choice, though.”

“I say bondage first, movies after, is that an alright compromise?” Alright compromise? Puh-lease! That sounds like the perfect night! Marshall can’t help but laugh when you tell him that. “Good, love. I can’t wait to see you.”

“You don’t have to wait,” you say coyly as you angle your phone to give him an even better look at your cleavage.

“Oh, shit, not saying no to that.” Of course he wouldn’t. He’s probably already worked up from knowing you’re being played with right now.

“Want to watch me come for you?” It’s a redundant question. You know it, Marshall knows it, but he still pretends to think about his answer for a moment. You stick out your tongue, which makes him laugh – as always.

“Careful, you little brat, or I’ll leave you tied to the ceiling all night. No movies for you.” It’s an empty threat, you can tell from the sound of his voice and the terrible wink he throws your way. Without thinking much, you move to sit in front of the mirror on the closet door, leaning back against the bed. You change the camera and show Marshall where you’re sitting.

“Tell me everything you’re going to do to me tonight.”

You make sure to give Marshall a nice show while he talks about several exciting ways to tie you up in excruciating detail. To say that a part of you wishes you were with him already is a massive understatement – all of you wants to be wrapped in his arms and in his ropes right now. After some time, you notice something strange; the vibrations of the toy are suspiciously helpful in your race towards what you know is going to be a fantastic orgasm. It’s the ‘come for me, baby’ from Marshall that pulls you over the edge, breaking you apart into a million pieces until you’re a trembling mess on the floor.

“That was lovely, princess.” August. Of course he was watching you. That makes a whole lot of sense. Did he overhear as he walked by the room? Was he looking for you? The dirty grin on Marshall’s face tells you everything you need to know.

“Thanks for letting me know what she was up to,” August says to Marshall as he sits by your side and kisses your cheek. “Would have hated to miss out on that.”

“Why do you two always have to be in cahoots?” You roll your eyes. “In the beginning you were so hell-bent on annoying each other, what happened?”

“We learned to share,” Marshall says. “I’m going to get some things set up for tonight, darling. I’ll see you soon.”

Marshall hangs up the phone without waiting for your answer, and August doesn’t even wait for you to put it down before he presses his lips to your neck.

“You looked so pretty, sweetheart,” he groans against your skin in between soft kisses and licks. His arm moves in that unmistakable way, and you can hear the tension in his voice.

“Did you enjoy the show, Daddy?” you tease. You know him so well by now, that a few strategically placed kisses on his neck have him on edge. He was probably already close when he was watching you, which honestly turns you on more than you can say.

“I really did, princess,” August replies. “Spread your legs for me, baby. Show me your pretty little pussy.”

You do as he tells you – what else is new – and you enjoy the way he kisses you hard as he gets between your legs. He pushes your dress up further and uses one hand to push your panties to the side, slapping your wrist when you try to help him. You can tell he’s close from the ragged breaths and the low growl that tumble through his chest. At the same time, attitude and mischief bubble up inside you, and you’re speaking before thinking once again.

“Come for me, Daddy,” you taunt right as August topples over the edge of release, coating your pussy with cum. He doesn’t say anything, but the look on his face either means you’ll regret saying that, or you won’t. Which would be a terrible thing to have to figure out, if it wasn’t so goddamn exciting.

August pulls your panties back in place, the mostly mesh material already soaked from your earlier endeavors, and runs his fingers over the thin material for good measure.

You’re a mess. You’re exactly where he wanted you; horny, close to the point of overstimulation, with your pussy covered in cum. It’s almost becoming a seal of approval for August – the first time you met Marshall, you weren’t even wearing panties and August’s cum was dripping down your legs. There was no time to clean that up then, exactly as he'd planned, and there is no time for that now, either, because the doorbell rings.

August watches Sy like a hawk the whole time he’s over, but he’s nothing short of a perfect gentleman with you – and you’re really trying your best, bending over to put down drinks, flirtatious smiles, playing with your hair. You know you’re laying it on thick, but you just can’t seem to help yourself. He’s so handsome and you’re painfully attracted to him! Of course, the fact that you went into this dripping wet and drenched in cum doesn’t help you behave at all. August has to keep himself from laughing on occasion, he thinks the way you’re throwing yourself at your neighbor is very funny. He’s going easier on the vibrator than you had expected. It’s off most of the time, but the idea that it might turn on at any moment is both exciting and nerve-wracking. Every time August takes out his phone, you clench your thighs in anticipation. August has trouble keeping his face in check whenever he sees it, but Sy seems to be none the wiser.

You listen to the guys talking about the game, sports, work, and whatever other neighborly pleasantry can be expected of a regular evening like this – nothing about the crazy threesome you had with both of your boyfriends on the exact couch Sy and August are sitting on right now, for instance. God, why did you have to think about that? Every bit of your brain is becoming increasingly preoccupied with the mess between your legs, your walls clamp down on the toy inside of you, and you’re having trouble controlling your breathing.

“You know what, this was fun, but I’ll leave you guys to your game and just drive to Marshall myself.” Point to August. He’ll never let you live that down…

“That bad, huh?” Marshall says when he opens the door for you.

“Horrible!” you shriek as you drop your coat and stomp into the kitchen.

“Excuse me? Come back here and pick that up, please?” Dammit! Over the past few weeks, Marshall has really been taking a page out of August’s playbook, and you don’t like it at all. You know their motives are different. August gets off on controlling you, Marshall likes to give you the opportunity to be a brat so he can tie you up and spank you. No matter the reason, it’s annoying as fuck right now. Ironically, you don’t feel like lashing out at him today, so you listen. Marshall can’t help but grab your hips and grind into you when you bend down to pick your coat off the floor – and who can blame him? He just loves your ass. August does too. In fact, you’re fairly sure you’ve seen Sy sneak the occasional peek at your behind when he was over – although that was the full extent of his expressing any interest. You put your coat where it belongs and turn around.

“I was promised bondage and movies, what are we still doing here?” You can’t wait until Marshall undresses you and finds the mess August left for him.

“Impatient,” Marshall laughs, “I like it.” Looks like you’re not getting harsh and demanding Marshall tonight, despite the stressful case he’s been through. One hand reaches around and spanks your ass forcefully, but his eyes are smiling. You know exactly what he’s going to do next: grab your butt cheek and pull you in – and lo and behold.

“Let’s get upstairs!”

Marshall throws you around like you’re a rag doll. That’s okay, he has all these big muscles, he better put them to good use, right? You’re over his shoulder in no time, and he carries you up the stairs like you don’t weigh a thing, and your favorite part is yet to come. When your back hits the mattress, you squeal. Marshall always lets you struggle just enough to let you work some of that attitude out, but you know perfectly well that you’re absolutely powerless. He presses a series of kisses to your neck as he pulls up your dress, pausing briefly to rip it over your head and toss it aside.

“Do I thank you or August?” he asks as he takes in the sight of you in the lingerie August picked out.

“August,” you reply. Marshall smiles approvingly. Now that you’re not being toyed with constantly, and the overstimulation that August subjected you to has faded a little, you feel a little more of that need to misbehave…

“It’s almost too pretty to take it off, love.” He holds out a hand to you, which you happily take. You gasp when he suddenly pulls you off the bed, and pushes you down to your knees again in the middle of the bedroom. “Now, we can do one of two things. Option one: we turn this into a practice session. Option two: we play. I’m testing that hard point either way, you’ll get tied up either way. The question is: how badly do you want my cock inside of you?”

His words take your breath away. It feels a little silly, but you love it when they give you options. It doesn’t have to be a hard choice, but it’s nice when they let you know you have a say in things occasionally. This time, the choice is ridiculously easy: play.

“Have you made your choice, darling?”

“Yes, Sir,” you say, much more confident now than you know you’ll be in half an hour or so.

“Perfect,” Marshall chuckles as he opens one of the drawers underneath his bed and grabs the things he needs. He gets to work immediately, which tells you he’s more than happy with the choice you made. While he gets a few more things ready to – finally – tie you to his ceiling, he tells you to strip. You want to listen, really, you do, so for the first half of the exercise, you’re a good girl, and you take off the longline bra you were wearing without complaining. Now… Your panties…

“What seems to be the problem, sweetheart?” Those are the words that come out of his mouth. The sigh that follows, however, tells you something more along the lines of: ‘What did he do now?’ His hands roughly grasp the flimsy elastic of your underwear and pull them down your legs. As soon as they’re gone, Marshall grabs your knees and pushes them apart.

“Fuck me,” he mutters under his breath when he sees you. Then his eyes settle on you: “Knees. Now.” You scramble to get on your knees, eager to obey his order and admittedly also a bit scared of the sudden change in his behavior. He works as quickly as he can without making concessions to safety. From the sound of his breath, you can tell that he’s using every last sliver of restraint he has to still make good on his promise to tie you up – and to adhere to the plan he had clearly made in advance, because this goes way too smooth to be improvisation.

Before you know it, your shoulder is on the floor, your hands are tied behind your back, and one of your legs is tied as far towards your shoulder as you can handle. The other leg is frog tied and up in the air. Marshall admires his handiwork for a moment – and you’re fairly sure he’s taking pictures of it to send to August, as well – before getting on his knees next to you.

“He ruined you,” he says appreciatively as he gently lets his hand glide over your ass. When his fingers brush past the base of the plug, you shiver.

“Can you take the toys out, please, Sir?” you ask in a small voice. It’s been a few hours since August put them in, and they’re starting to bother you. You sigh in relief when Marshall first pulls the bullet vibe out of you, and then gently removes the butt plug.

“Another one?” He says as he watches August’s cum drip out of your ass. “Daddy really made a mess of you, huh, darling?”

“Yes, Sir,” you answer quietly. Marshall pushes two fingers into your pussy and rolls his thumb over your clit, making you moan and squirm against your restraints.

“Did he fuck this cute, wet pussy?”

“No, Sir, just my ass,” you answer. The sound of Marshall undoing his belt and zipper makes you tremble in anticipation.

“Then how do you explain this messy little cunt, love?” A third finger slips in without any issues, but when he adds the fourth you start to feel a little bit of a stretch. Apparently, you don’t answer him quickly enough for his tastes. “Baby? I want an answer, come on.”

“Daddy came all over my pussy after we hung up the phone,” you mumble. Judging from the way Marshall laughs, he’s not surprised at all. The tip of his cock slides through your soaking wet folds, making you moan and bite your lip.

“Sweetheart, listen to me,” Marshall says, halting his movements as soon as he realizes it’s either ‘moan uncontrollably as a way of begging him to shove his dick into you’ or ‘listen to what he has to say’, which means he will have to make a small sacrifice for now. “I need you to let me know when you’re uncomfortable.” He explains his concern for your shoulders and neck, and promises to take things easy. You whine when he says the words. The last thing you want is for him to be gentle with you today, not after all August’s teasing, and part of you desperately wants to beg him to rail you until you can’t see straight – but you don’t.

As soon as he pushes into you, you’re glad you didn’t. The way he moans tells you exactly how much he needs this. Needs you, but everything surrounding you as well. To be handed a dripping mess by August, to fight you a little, tie you up… and finally to treat you the way he believes you deserve to be treated: with respect, love and – from time to time - tenderness. He’s not going to last, but it doesn’t matter. It’s not like this breaks a half year long dry spell or anything. In fact, it doesn’t even break a three hour dry spell. You can feel the tension and frustration from the past weeks as he finally lets it all out in his final, brutal thrusts as he fucks his load deep into your pussy. When he pulls out, an image flashes in your mind. The image of Sy waiting in line to take his turn on your already ravaged holes…

The fantasy occupies every corner of your mind so thoroughly that you barely register the changing tension on the ropes around your limbs and torso as Marshall unties you. It isn’t until he’s completely done that you finally become aware of your surroundings again. For a moment, you expect him to lift you off the floor and carry you to the bed or the bathroom, as he has done countless times before, but he doesn’t. Instead, he joins you on the floor, curling up behind you as he pulls you into his arms.

“Perfect little bunny,” he muses as he nuzzles your neck and squeezes you tight before starting to gently massage the rope marks on your skin. Eventually, he does pick you up, and drags you into the shower with him. You haven’t needed your ‘private bathroom minute’ for a while now. Would adding Sy to the mix change something about that familiarity? You can’t deny your crush, but is it really worth risking all of this for… him?

“You’re not risking anything, love,” Marshall says. Either your thoughts are immediately obvious when looking at you, or you’ve said something out loud. Either way, you’re embarrassed enough about the fact that you are even thinking about another man while you’re letting Marshall take care of you. Now you’re going to have an actual conversation about it. “August told me weeks ago. We’ve talked this through, and… we’re happy to let you sort out your feelings if he’s on board with that, too.”

“And if he’s not?” you ask, but you already know the answer: You don’t want him if he’s not.

#walter marshall x reader #walter marshall smut #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall #august walker x female reader #august walker x reader #august walker #august walker fanfiction #august walker smut #henrycavill fanfic #henry cavill characters #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill #captain syverson #syverson #syverson fanfiction

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440mxs-wife · 4 months

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The Country Doctor, Chapter 1: A Fresh Start

Pairing: Dr. Leonard “Bones” McCoy x F!Reader (eventual). Other Characters are the usual suspects: Jim Kirk, Nyota Uhura. Spock, Montgomery Scott, Hikaru Sulu, Pavel Chekov (to be introduced in later chapters.) OMC's Travis Myers and Miles Cooper.

Word Count: 4530

Warnings: Divorce, break-up, ruthless businessmen, mentions of infidelity, but mostly fluffy (for now)

Summary: Fresh off of his divorce, Dr. McCoy receives word that he has inherited a 5,000-acre farm and home in Logan, Montana. Finally, he has an opportunity for a clean slate and to start his own clinic out west and leave his ex-wife behind. Along the way, he'll meet a cast of unique characters, each with a place in his new small-town life. But there could be trouble ahead in the form of a powerful CEO hell-bent on acquiring Leonard's property by any means necessary.

A/N: This idea was posted by @hailbop1701, with a specific list of plot points/dialog to be included. I won't put the list here, because it'll give away too much. Not sure how many parts there'll be, but I hope you like where I take the story.

A/N 2: If you’ve been tagged here, it’s because you’ve interacted one or more times on a McCoy story of mine, or we’re moots. Whether you like or reblog, I am eternally grateful for your support. If anyone else would like to be tagged on any future Karl Urban character postings, or would rather leave the Crazy Train, please let me know. Thank you, and enjoy the show!

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"Court is adjourned."

That was the declaration eight weeks ago, when Dr. Leonard H. McCoy sat at a table with his attorney in the Fulton County Courthouse in Atlanta, Georgia. The Honorable Judge Michael Simmons had just pounded his gavel on the bench to signify an end to the McCoy v. McCoy divorce proceedings. Unfortunately, his now-ex-wife, Jocelyn, had the better attorney, which resulted in a somewhat less-than-equitable division of their assets.

At least Leonard was able to keep his vintage pickup truck and the 4-bedroom, 2 bath, ranch-style home he had lived in with Jocelyn. She basically got everything else in the settlement, though, including most of the furniture. She didn't technically need the furniture, since she was moving in with her new boyfriend. However, he had a rental property that needed furnishings, so that's where they went.

Two weeks after the divorce was finalized, Leonard received correspondence from a law firm in Montana, with a request for his presence. The letter did not specify the reason for the request, and when he called the law office, no one was authorized to divulge any information. He didn't want to find himself on the wrong side of the law and besides, he was more than a little curious. Luckily, the law firm had a satellite office in Atlanta, so that's where he attended the meeting.

An hour or so after the meeting ended, a slightly dazed Leonard walked out of the attorney's office with a file folder and a property deed in his hand. The meeting was for the reading of the will for his distant uncle, Walter McCoy. Around 5,000 acres of land in Montana along with an old craftsman-style farmhouse were bequeathed to him to do with as he pleased. There were also various outbuildings on the property, such as a machine shed, a barn with a hay loft, and horse stables.

He had options. There was an Eastern conglomerate, NorthStar Corp, that was willing to pay a more than fair price to buy it from him, lock, stock, and barrel. With what they were offering, Leonard wouldn't have to worry about money for the foreseeable future, if ever. Or, he could make the break from Georgia and his ex-wife with her boy-toy to make a go of it in Logan, Montana. Although Leonard wanted to stay near his mother, Eleanora, he had to consider that this was his chance to start over somewhere else.

When he told his best friend, James T. Kirk, about his inheritance, Jim could hardly contain his excitement. He considered it to be the start to a great adventure and was more than willing to accompany Leonard.

Jim had no family ties to speak of, preferring to live a sort of nomadic existence. He even offered to take turns driving the moving truck the 1,900 or so miles to Montana. "Good music, good snacks, and good company are all we need to get us to our destination, Bones," Kirk told him with a wide grin.

The more Leonard thought about it, the more he warmed up to the idea of starting somewhere new. A place where he wouldn't have to worry about running into someone who knew about the divorce and wouldn't hesitate to share an opinion about it. So, with Jim's help, he cleared his house out of any remaining items, put them in storage, then contacted a realtor to list it for sale.

After only a few showings, a deal was quickly closed, with a $30,000.00 profit in his bank account to show for it. Leonard and Jim loaded up his remaining possessions into the moving van, hooked up a car trailer with Leonard's pickup truck on it, and headed west to Montana. The pair made a few stops along the way, renting a hotel room to rest for the night before hitting the road again the next morning.

The more miles Leonard put behind him, the more comfortable and free he felt with his decision. He wasn't too keen on leaving his mother behind, but she assured him that she would be fine, even encouraged him to take this leap. He made a note to send her a plane ticket so she could visit once he got settled.

Nearly four days and more than 1,900 miles later, Leonard turned into the gravel driveway that led to his new home. It was a charcoal gray with white trim craftsman-style farmhouse with a tall, red brick chimney on one side. The wooden wrap-around porch was accented with white, tapered columns, set on top of the slotted railing framing the area. He appreciated the large windows, which would bring in a good amount of natural light, as well as soft breezes on lazy summer days.

"Well? Is it everything you expected?" Jim asked.

"I didn't exactly know what to expect, Jim. I don't even remember either of my parents ever mentioning an 'Uncle Walter McCoy'. He isn't someone I knew well enough for him to leave me something like this, but I'll do my best to make the most of it. From what I've seen so far, though, at least the outside looks fine," Leonard replied.

"That's the spirit, Bones! Let's go have a look at the grounds, then inside the house. After that, we can start unloading your stuff," Jim grinned as he scrambled out of the truck.

Leonard stepped down from the driver's seat and closed the door. "Sure, Jim. Why not," he muttered to himself. He fished the house keys out of his pocket on his way up the porch steps. The front door was made of solid oak with a dark finish and leaded glass panels arranged in a geometric design. He inserted the key into the lock and tilted his head back. "Here goes nothin', I guess," he murmured, pushing the door open.

***

At just after 2:00pm, you stopped by the post office to retrieve your mail that had piled up over the last couple of days. Before you left, you strolled up to the counter to chat with your best friend, Nyota Uhura. Her shift was almost over, so she suggested the two of you meet for coffee and a snack at the Java Station Café on Main Street.

While you waited for her at the café, you thought about how you met her and what brought you back to Logan, Montana. Your now-ex-boyfriend, Travis Myers, had convinced you to move with him from Logan to Bozeman. He'd landed a lucrative position as in-house counsel for a large and powerful corporation. You found work at a tech company doing data entry work for a medical office. Not too terribly taxing nor was it what you wanted for a career, but it paid well.

Around the six-month mark of living together in the big city, Travis started coming home later and later in the evening. Missed date nights and other outings were becoming more frequent, with him coming to bed late and leaving before you woke up. Whenever you tried to talk to him about it, he always chalked it up to working late on a big case or project, so you let it go.

The last straw was when the two of you were supposed to meet a few of your friends for dinner. Since he was late picking you up from home, you asked one of them to drive you to the restaurant. From the lobby, you called Travis and told him to meet you there.

Just before you said your goodbyes, you heard, "Come back to bed, baby, I'm cold" in a woman's voice. You were furious, demanding to know who the woman was and how long he had been seeing her. After first denying everything, he ultimately confessed it was his assistant and it had been going on for about six weeks. You felt your world collapsing around you at his admission. Dinner was forgotten while your friends drove you back to the apartment to pack up your belongings.

You couch-surfed for about a month before finding an apartment back in Logan, where you had previously lived with your parents. Because Travis paid for most of the expenses such as rent and utilities, you were able to save up quite a nest egg to cover your new living situation. However, you weren't sure how much longer your savings would hold out, so you decided to look for a job to make ends meet.

The bell above the door tinkled, and Nyota rushed over to your table. After a brief hug, you both sat down and waited for your server to appear and take your order. Uhura was practically vibrating with energy, which meant she had something exciting to share. A few minutes later, with your order submitted, she spilled her secret.

"You'll never guess what happened today!" she exclaimed. "Two men came in today to file a change of address card."

You snorted. "That sounds like something that happens every day around here, Nyota, not that interesting. You're nearly jumping out of your skin about this. What is so compelling about them that has you barely able to sit still long enough to tell me?"

Uhura made a face at you to show her displeasure. "If you can keep from insulting me, I'll tell you," she pouted. You held up your hands in surrender as her cue to continue. "They moved here from Georgia, and one of them has the most tantalizing Southern accent. They were both tall, one blond hair with striking blue eyes, and the other dark hair and hazel eyes. He seemed a little grumpy at first, but Blue Eyes was the more charming of the two," she explained.

"Did you get a look at their new address, the one here?" you asked.

"The one with dark hair listed his name as Dr. Leonard H. McCoy, and his address matched the one for Walter McCoy's place," she replied.

Now she had your attention. Every so often, you drove by the farm, wishing you lived there instead of your small, one-bedroom apartment. You had thoughts about what it would be like to buy the place one day so you could fix it up and return it to some of its old glory. You'd heard through the grapevine that the owner passed away a few months back. It was also mentioned that ownership would pass to his only other living relative.

"I've always thought about that place, what it looks like inside, how I would spruce it up. Wait a minute, did you say Doctor McCoy?" you squeaked.

"And her brain has finally caught up with her mouth," Uhura joked. "I was wondering when you'd catch on to that tidbit of information. That house has a separate office space, ideal for treating patients. Word travels fast in this town, and once folks get to know there's a doctor in town again, Dr. McCoy is bound to need help. You know, with paperwork or coordinating treatment of his patients. Know anyone with those kind of skills?" she grinned.

In addition to your data entry job, you had acquired some basic medical training. The town had a couple of paramedics within the Volunteer Fire Department for the more serious cases. For now, it was enough, but it would be nice for the vacancy to be filled, especially by a handsome doctor. "Hmm. Maybe I should head out that way, introduce myself, see if he needs any help." Beg him for a job, you silently added.

"That's the spirit! If you're done with your coffee, we should drive out there and check things out. You in?" she held out her hand for you to shake.

After draining the last of your cappuccino, you nodded and shook her hand. "I'm all in," you declared.

***

Leonard and Jim wandered the property, taking in the condition and contents of the outbuildings. Many of the machines and tools were left behind. They noted which items were and were not still functional, to determine what could be easily returned to service or sold for parts. The good news was, the buildings themselves were structurally sound, although at least in need of a new outer coat of paint.

As for the house itself, Leonard was pleased to find a side entrance that led to an office, set apart from the main house. It was perfect for starting his clinic, with a small area that could function as a waiting room, and enough space for a reception desk. He made a note to check in town for a secondhand store to pick up a desk, some chairs and other furnishings.

Jim joked and told him that all he needed now was a pretty receptionist who could also perform nursing duties. Leonard glared at him in response, reminding him that after the way divorce went, he wasn't at all interested in dating. "Just doctorin'," he affirmed. "Maybe fishin', if the winds are just right," he added with a smirk.

A tour of the home's interior revealed hardwood flooring in the bedrooms and living room, while ceramic tiles covered the floor in the eat-in kitchen. There was a separate dining room space between the kitchen and living room. The centerpiece of the living room was a fireplace made with gray bricks and had a dark wooden mantle above it.

Before his arrival, Leonard contacted the utilities and asked for them to be turned on and transferred into his name. That gave Leonard and Jim a chance to determine what worked and what needed repaired. For the most part, the electrical system was in good working order, except for a few outlets that may need replaced or updated.

The water situation was another story. At first, when Jim turned on the high-arching faucet in the kitchen, the white farmhouse sink reflected a light brownish tint to the water. The pedestal sink and clawfoot tub in the main bathroom, plus the sinks in the half-baths were the same shade of brown. However, the more they let the water run, the clearer it became, which helped ease their minds a bit.

Leonard walked back out to the porch to make a mental list of what he'd need to bring the old house back to life and working order. The hardwood floors were in good condition, though they could use a bit of polish applied to them. There were a few non-working electrical outlets that would need an electrician's expertise to chase down the problem. In the bedrooms, there were spots where the wallpaper was peeling away from the wall. Not exactly a fan of wallpaper, Leonard decided it would be better to tear it all down and paint instead.

Overall, the pluses outweighed the minuses, such as the updated appliances in the kitchen and quartz countertops. Leonard could definitely see himself cooking up a Sunday dinner of his mother's chicken and dumplings with a peach cobbler. As an avid reader, he also loved the built-in bookshelves to showcase his personal library of classics. And the side-door entrance to the office space provided a break between his professional life and his personal life.

Jim joined him out on the porch and gazed out over the mature trees that dotted the property. "So now that you've taken the grand tour, what do you think, Bones?"

Leonard thought for a moment before answering. "Think I'm gonna like it here. Let's start unloading the truck," he directed. "Good thing we hit those consignment shops on the way here, or you wouldn't have a bed to sleep in," he jested.

Jim was about to unlatch the door on the moving truck when he noticed a car turning into the driveway. "Welcoming Committee?" he wondered. Leonard shook his head and rolled his eyes while he walked over to stand next to Jim. They both watched as the car rolled to a stop near the front of the truck.

***

The drive to the McCoy place only took about twenty minutes, which you spent silently reviewing your qualifications. Uhura could tell you were worried about making a good impression, which she was sure you would. She told you not to worry about it, that you were the best candidate for the job, if Dr. McCoy was hiring. "What if he's not hiring, though?" you asked.

"Then we'll have to convince him that he'll need your help, being the only doc in town. There really is no way around it, he will require an assistant," she reasoned. Her response sounded logical, so you accepted it and kept driving out to meet your prospective employer.

Soon your car was pulling into the driveway, where a large moving truck was parked. Upon seeing the two men standing to one side, you had to admit that Uhura was right. They were both strikingly handsome men. The dark-aired man carried a stern look on his face and his arms were crossed over his chest. The blond seemed a little more easygoing, self-assured, bordering on cocky, as if he knew what a good-looking man he was.

As you exited your vehicle, the men had started walking in your direction. "You ladies lost or somethin'?" the dark-haired man drawled. Ohhhh, that accent was enough to make you weak in the knees, you thought. You held on to your open door for balance.

"Yeah, can we help you?" the blond man wondered with a smirk.

When your brain finally rebooted, you responded, "Actually, we were hoping to be of assistance to you, since you're new in town." At this, you introduced the two of you and learned that the blond was James T. Kirk, or "Jim" he offered with a waggle of his eyebrows. His grumpy companion with the dark hair was the Dr. Leonard H. McCoy who now owned the property.

"I think we can manage fine with just the two of us. Good day, la--" Leonard was interrupted by Jim, who pulled him aside.

"Wait a minute, Bones, let's not be too hasty. I mean, these are a couple of gorgeous women who showed up out of nowhere to see us," Jim pointed out. "It wouldn't hurt to hear what they had to say, now would it?"

Leonard pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed in exasperation. He was here to be a physician, to take care of people who need help, not dip a toe in the dating pool. When he looked up, he noticed that Jim had left his side and was talking to Uhura, while you had stepped up in his place.

"Excuse me, Dr. McCoy? I understand that my friend and I just turned up unannounced on your doorstep, and you don't know anything about us. But this is a pretty small town, and I should tell you, it won't take long for people to learn that we have a new physician to replace old Doc Thomas. Therefore, I'm offering you my services. I have some basic medical training, and I used to do data entry for a medical company back in Bozeman," you explained.

"Bozeman? Why on earth would you ever leave there to live here? Not to say that what I've seen so far of Logan isn't simply charming," Leonard added with more than a hint of sarcasm.

"I'll be glad to share that little tidbit of information once we've gotten used to working together," you shot back. "By hiring me, you'll have a well-organized appointment calendar, along with accurate patient files. You'll also have someone who knows how to take and record vitals, which leaves you free to do the doctorin'. So, do we have a deal?" you asked, your hand outstretched.

Leonard took a moment to consider your offer, bold though it was. He had to concede that in a town of this size, word would get around about a new physician and spread like wildfire. He'd probably end up with a huge influx of patients. Even if it was only at first, he might become easily overwhelmed. Patient care was of the utmost importance to him, and if you could make things easier for him, who was he to reject such a proposition?

His lack of response translated to you as a decline of your offer of assistance. As you started to withdraw your hand, he quickly grabbed it and clasped it between his own. "Whoa, hold on there just a minute. All right, you have a deal, but we'll do this as a trial run. A three-month probationary period, take it or leave it," he bartered, fighting the urge to smile.

"Thank you, Dr. McCoy! Three months? That'll be more than enough time for you to decide you can't live without me! In-in the office, I mean," you clarified.

Leonard couldn't help but smile at your blunder. "All right, now that we have that settled, I hope you'll excuse me and Casanova over there with your friend. We have a lot to unload, and I'd like to sleep in my own bed tonight rather than the couch," he stated.

"We can help, if that's okay with you? With four sets of hands, we can be done in no time. Besides, I've always been kind of curious about what the inside of your house looks like," you admitted.

You are one interesting woman, Leonard thought to himself. "Okay, let's get started then. Once we get everything out of the truck, I'll take you on the nickel tour," he winked. He whistled to get Jim's and Uhura's attention, then opened up the back of the truck.

***

"There, I think that's the last of it," Leonard declared after he removed the final box from the moving truck and placed it on the lawn. He jumped up to grab the leather strap, then pulled down the rolling door until it was flush with the deck. He latched and locked the door, picked up the box, and brought it into his new home.

Jim and Uhura had taken your car into town to pick up something for dinner, which left you alone with Leonard. During the unloading, you didn't get much of a chance to stop and look around. But now that most of the heavy lifting was done, you seized the opportunity to take in your surroundings.

You were so caught up in admiring the home's features that you didn't hear Dr. McCoy slide up next to you. "If you have your nickel, I'm ready to start the tour," he grinned. You dug in your pocket, which luckily contained the right coin for the price of your ticket. "Ready when you are, Dr. McCoy," you replied, handing over the 5 cents.

***

Video Conference Call -- Bozeman, Montana

Travis checked his watch to see that he had another ten minutes before his conference call was scheduled to start. He opened the blue file folder in front of him, which was sent from his employer regarding a property they wanted to acquire in Logan, Montana. He sat back in his chair as he thought about how you'd moved there after breaking up with him. Before he could stroll any further down Memory Lane, his alarm beeped to let him know it was time to start the call.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen," Travis greeted. He could see the CEO, Miles Cooper, at the head of the table, surrounded by other members of NorthStar Corp's Board of Executives.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Myers. I see you have the file in front of you, so let's begin. We understand that the principal owner of the McCoy property has passed away. As such, we want to move forward and make the new owner an offer to purchase the parcel of land and whatever's on it. The house, barn, stables--everything, down to the last shingle," Mr. Cooper explained.

"My source tells me that the new owner drove all the way from Atlanta, Georgia to check out the property. He is also a doctor, and the town has been without one since the last one died. In my opinion, this could present a problem. He may decide to stay and 'hang out his shingle', as it were," Travis pointed out.

Mr. Cooper leaned back in his chair and rested his steepled index fingers on his chin as he contemplated his next move. As he considered this new development, conversation buzzed around him among the other executives. According to one of the scientific reports he received, there were plenty of reasons for encouraging the good doctor to sell.

The report mentioned the discovery of several veins of copper and silver running beneath the surface. The financial gains from mining those resources would more than cover the initial investment paid to acquire the property. Whether the new owner was aware of these precious metals was unknown, but Cooper needed to act fast before the doctor learned of their existence.

With a wave of his hand, silence returned to the board room as Mr. Cooper had made a decision. "Mr. Myers, I suggest you do your best to convince Dr. McCoy to sell the property to us. I will have a new purchase offer drawn up that's more than fair, and you should strongly encourage him to accept it."

Travis carefully considered Mr. Cooper's words that carried the barest hint of a threat behind them. "Sir, I will present your offer; however, we should be prepared for him to turn it down and decide to become the town's doctor."

"You worry about getting a signature on that purchase agreement, Myers, and I will worry about whether or not a contingency plan will be needed. Before the previous owner's death, this was a working farm, right? Lots of tools, machinery? Farming is considered to be one of the most dangerous professions, you know. Accidents can and do happen. It would be unfortunate if an accident should befall the good Dr. McCoy," Mr. Cooper replied darkly.

There was no mistake in Mr. Cooper's intent this time. "Absolutely, sir. I will find a way to present your offer that will make it difficult if not impossible to decline it."

Mr. Cooper's eyes brightened and a smile graced his face. "Excellent, Myers, I knew I could count on you. I'll send that new offer over to you as soon as I have it and we'll go from there," he stated. "I appreciate your cooperation, Myers, I certainly won't forget it."

"And thank you, Sir. I welcome this opportunity, and I will not let you down," Travis concluded.

"Let us hope not, Myers. I'd hate for you to experience any....negative fallout, should you be unable to close this deal," Mr. Cooper remarked ominously before disconnecting the call.

Travis relaxed in his chair and began to formulate a plan in his mind. A sly grin crept across his face as he thought of the perfect way to get an inside look into the doctor's life.

Of course, it involved a trip to Logan and should he happen to run into you, so much the better. For him, anyway. Though there was a near 100% chance that you would want nothing to do with him. If that was the case, his plan may be a bust before it even gets started.

Especially after the way things ended between you discovering his infidelity. For that reason alone, it was likely your walls of protection against him and his crap were nearly guaranteed to be sky-high. But it was a chance he was willing to take, because he did not want to disappoint his client. Something told him that with a failure of this magnitude, Mr. Cooper was capable of making his life a living hell.

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Tags: @marvelouslytrekking @spacedancer1701 @anna-phora @hailbop1701 @writercole @lassie-bird @never--doubt @phoenixisred @wayward-dreamer @erindiggory @strangesgirls @dumpsterhippie @genevablog26 @lokis-deares @medicatemedrmccoy @rooweighton @mamamercurymist @d-doki-doki @malmeansbad @imamotherfuckingstar-lord @ghosttrekkie @noforkingclue @bellestalesoffiction

#leonard bones mccoy x reader #leonard mccoy x reader #au leonard mccoy x reader

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