#all the time i wish wish wish there was some way for me to move out early without me fucking myself financially
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wondering what zombie!au Steve might try to do for a sappy romantic surprise.. I feel like he’d get really excited about planning something intimate/small but really meaningful and tooth-rotting sweet.. maybe it’s for a birthday? or just for a spot of cheer?
Before the apocalypse, Steve was desperate to be loved. None of his girlfriends ever seemed that interested in more than sex or popularity, and if they were, they’d realise they wanted more than Steve soon after. He spent years wishing somebody would look at him and find exactly what they wanted.
And you do.
You look at him like he’s your everything (when you aren’t complaining, that is). “I’m gonna have to shave you myself,” you say, climbing into his lap, your hand tipping his head back less gently than you mean to, he’s sure. “That’s a wound.”
“It’s a scratch. It’ll be fine tomorrow.”
He grabs your waist, surprised but certainly not unhappy with your sudden presence. You’re straddling him. “Does it hurt?” You rub the area surrounding his raw skin. “Does that hurt?”
“Not really.” He runs his hands up and down your sides. “What’s up?”
You shrug. He leans back against the headboard as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. “We finally have a bed again.”
He pulls you in for a hug. “Yeah?”
“It’s so nice. I missed this.”
“I missed this too. Clean sheets, a door that locks…”
You understand what he’s hinting at. He isn’t subtle, but he’s also in no rush, and you know that too. “Maybe you can give me a massage later,” you murmur. “We still have some of that nice lotion.”
He loves that, the thought of you on your front as his hands push up your shoulders, your skin and his palms warmed by friction. “What about me?” he jokes, hands sliding up your back, tracing the path he’ll make later on.
“You can have one too,” you say, your face dropping down to his neck, where you kiss him mildly, like you’re thinking of something else.
Steve wants to give the gift to you before he forgets it. You can be a very distracting person, not just because he’d like to encourage your lips to his for a good kiss, or because you’re the perfect partner for hugging under the covers. Maybe it’s because he loves talking to you, about everything and anything at all.
“Hey, so.” He encourages your head back, his hand on the nape of your neck. “I have something for you.”
“Do I have to get off of you?” you ask.
“No, you can stay there.” He reaches into his pocket.
“Wait, you’re smiling. Are you that excited to give it to me?”
“Pretty excited.”
You caress the inside of his elbow.
It’s probably why you’re so easy to love. Not that you love him, but your propensity for sweetness, and the way you show your own affection. If he didn’t need both hands for this next part he’d twine your fingers together and hold yours all night long.
He pulls a small plastic bag from his pocket to show you the contents, then changes his mind and opens the bag to take it out instead. “I know you were pretty happy that I found your necklace in my jacket, but I got it for you such a long time ago, I’m not saying you shouldn’t keep it. You should keep it.”
“I don’t think I could get rid of it,” you say, honest and curious. “You gave it to me to make me feel better. Do you remember?”
“Yeah, I remember. You had a frown like no one’s business for days.” He finds the charm and lays it over his hand. The chain is slightly tangled, but he can fix that. “There wasn’t a box, but. I don’t know, it reminded me of us, and you need an upgrade, I think I should ask you to get married–”
You smile in surprise, “What?”
“But I can’t find a ring. So I have to promise to get you one, and you can have this for the interim.” It’s an incredible skinny chain joined by two hearts. Steve knows it’s cheesy, it’s insanely corny, whatever, he’s smiling like a loon. “I figure it’s me and you,” he says, putting it in your open palm. “Linked together.”
Your gaze moves between him and the necklace slowly. “You want to marry me?”
Steve curls your hand closed over the necklace. Gentle, he takes your face into both hands. “I get that I haven’t been the best boyfriend, but you can’t really think I don’t want that, right?”
He’s really asking, but you don’t answer.
“I would’ve married you a long, long time ago, if things were different,” he says, pulling you in for a quick kiss. “I would’ve asked,” he corrects softly, before stealing another kiss.
You press your screwed up fist to his chest as you kiss him back.
“Who says we have to have rings?” you mumble.
The idea of calling you his wife is insanity. It trips him up, flips his heart, but he thinks you deserve the real thing. As real as it can get, considering.
“I’m gonna keep looking,” Steve says.
The way your eyes soften as he rubs your cheek sets everything he’s saying to you in stone. Who else could he ever want to be looking at him like this beside you? How lucky he is that you’d bother.
“Thank you,” you say.
Your face tilts down and he drops one hand, moving the other to just under your jaw, his pinky and marriage finger sewn behind your ear, middle and index on your cheek. He watches you and you turn your gift in your palm, waiting for you to lift your head.
“Thank you,” you say again. “Will you put it on me?”
Steve strings it around your neck and clasps it at your chest before twisting it to sit properly. The new necklace is a bit shorter than your simple diamond. You could wear both without issue.
You look down at them but can’t quite see them. “Does it look good?”
“Yeah. Looks beautiful.”
He wraps his arms around you again and looks up in to your face, chests coming together as he straightens his back and the gap between you closes just enough. You look down at him, your smile a mirror of his. Steve thinks being as in love with you as he is makes for its own kind of gift. Much better than a necklace, but he’ll keep trying to bridge the gap.
He forgets everything else when you’re together. Everything.
His face falls into your chest and collar against your necklaces. You press your face to his hair and cuddle him nicely.
“Love you,” you both whisper at the same time.
Your laugh tickles his scalp, warm breath in his hair.
#steve zombie!au#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington#steve harrington fic#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington drabble#stranger things x reader#stranger things fic#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#stranger things
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Criminally Smooth (Floyd Leech x Yuu)
Floyd might have a concussion, but that doesn't mean he can't recognize true love when he sees it, and that halo the bisexual lighting of this cop car is giving you makes him think he might have a chance.
notes: they/them used for Yuu, based off a meme I saw and the song Bonnie and Clyde by Dutch Melrose. Vaguely modern au, hints of a mafia au? Yuu and Floyd are implied to be adults and full of bad decisions. More fic can be found on my masterlist.
“Hey baby, what's your name?” Floyd's teeth are sharp and his smile is weirdly wide, like he's trying to display his mouth for you. “You come here often? I swear I've seen ya somewhere before…” You take a deep breath trying to ground yourself, the metal of the handcuffs should be painful enough to do the trick but the ridiculousness of Floyd asking that question when you're both going to jail is overriding the discomfort.
“We've met before, yeah.” You grumble trying to shift to get a bit more comfortable as Floyd's eyes get wide as saucers in a way that would be cute if that meeting hadn't been him shaking you down for “interfering” with Azul’s business model.
“Really?” He sounds so happy, and tries to move his hands to do who knows what but gets stopped by the cuffs, which wipes away the facade of kindness as he glares down at them. “Well I must have introduced myself-”
“You did yeah.” You try to cut off whatever it is he has to say and try not to die of embarrassment when it doesn't stop him from babbling.
“I've got your number then right?” Floyd begins wiggling to reach for his back pocket and glares when Officer Clover tells him to knock it off. “You're just so fucking pretty please tell me that wasn't just a dream and I got your number.” Are you even talking to the same person?
“I don't think so?” He whines, whines! When you say that and looks up at you like a kicked puppy. “We uh. We weren't. Didn't get much of a chance to talk.” You shouldn't be flustered by this. Shouldn't be thinking that it's sort of cute how he presses up against the bars separating you in the back of the cruiser to try and get as close to you as possible.
“Aww well let me do it again please?” You nod and try not to fluster when he brings back the dreamy smile places his cuffed hands against the bars. “I'm Floyd, sorry I totaled your car, baby.” It wasn't your car but you know better to say that in something rigged for audio. “You free this Saturday? I wanna make it up to you and I know a real great place-”
“I don't think either of you are going to be free this weekend,” Officer Clover isn't even hiding how much he's enjoying this you really wish you could get away with punching him “sorry Floyd.”
“Ignore Sea Turtle, oh hey I don't know your name do I?” Surprisingly Floyd isn't annoyed at all, he's still keeping his mouth wide and gets even more excited when you begin to subconsciously mimic him. “C'mon what's your name pretty?”
“It's Yuu but you kept calling me-”
“LITTLE SHRIMPY!!!” He shouts so loud Officer Clover slams on the brakes out of shock, Floyd laughs as he tumbles around and you try to brace against the wall. “Dawww ya should have just led with that baby, I wouldn't have rammed ya. Not with a car anyway.” The police cruiser lurches again as you feel the tires hit something, slamming Floyd against the door and tumbling you towards the floor. He bites down on the metal of his cuffs making sure to keep eye contact with you as he chews through the metal, winking like he's putting on some sort of show and not at all surprised or afraid that your ride is spiraling out of control. “Remember, Saturday ok? And don't worry about dressing nice I'll take care of it ♡” His door flies open as Officer Clover scrambles for his radio and Floyd jumps out of the tank into an awaiting vehicle laughing the entire time, yelling a few choice expletives at the police commissioner as he goes. You curl yourself into a tiny ball and chew on the inside of your cheek as you try to process what just happened over the angry squaking you hear on the radio.
There's no way a judge is letting you make bail after this.
#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#floyd leech x reader#floyd leech x yuu#i wrote this fast idk#mafia au#i have ideas
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mason mount x reader
theme: smut
word count: 6,0k words
I hope you guys enjoy this! after all the stress of not getting it posted 🫶🏼
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Manchester United had done it! They had won the FA Cup final and you couldn’t be proud, especially for the love of your life.
Mason.
After the season he had, this was the best way to end things and you couldn’t wait to show him how proud you are of him.
You waited long enough, after all you couldn’t tear your eyes off him when he wore the suit, it was your weakness. His hair already made you weak. This suit of his though, it was brutal for you to watch him parade in it and you not being able to do anything up until now and even then you didn't have long because the afterparty was in about an hour. So you had to be quick and let out all your feelings in the hour that you had before you go to the afterparty having to pretend again that the suit doesn't make you want to tear his suit off right there and then in that moment.
Replaying the FA cup win in your head made you feel proud and happy for the team and especially Mason - as it always did. But you were only human, and that suit on him was the reason you were dripping wet for him.
‘You here, babe?’ You heard Mason yell, you were in the ensuite when he came into the hotel room, and you walked out as soon as you heard him, and made a beeline for him and jumped into his arms as soon as you saw him. You leapt up and circled your legs around his waist.
You placed your lips on his and kissed him; you couldn't waste any time. You were practically insatiable. You felt Mason walk over to the edge of the bed, and sat down, you were now on his lap, never once breaking the kiss.
Mason's large hands went down to your ass; you were still in your Manchester United shirt specifically and obviously the number 7 shirt, nothing else. You didn't bother wearing much clothes when you came back to the hotel as you knew what would happen and thought it would save you time and get to the real deal quick enough because you couldn't keep your hands off him long enough.
‘Fuck Y/N no underwear, and the number 7 looks so fuckin' sexy on you. Are you trying to make me fuck you?’ He smirked. You pulled back from his lips and glared at him.
‘Ah, not yet. Let me take care of you first,’ you say with a wink.
‘Damn! What did I do to deserve this? But you know I love when you take control so go ahead baby,’ Mason says, his tongue poking his cheek, looking all smug and cockily.
‘Win the FA cup, duh,’ you playfully say, rolling your eyes.
‘You better get on your knees then baby.’ he winks.
Before obeying him, you couldn't resist but leaving open mouthed kisses on his neck. You trail your mouth even lower , grabbing his arms as you kiss his chest, licking his nipple , then biting it softly, then giving the other nipple the same attention; his arms are flexed and you can feel how much bigger his muscles have gotten. You've always loved his body, but damn, he was so much stronger than you and you could barely wait until you could put some of your ideas into practice. But not now; it is all about him now. So you continue moving your kisses lower, your hands now following your lips on his sides. You pause for a moment and look at him, and you wish you could take a picture of this moment and capture Mason under your control. He looks delicious and you're finally about to have a taste.
You finally obey what he says and get on your knees. When you're finally able to unzip his trousers you let out a sigh of relief . You've been waiting all day for this moment and you're going to cherish every moment. His trousers slid down to his ankles, and you start teasing him, going past his clothed erection and kissing his inner thighs, his legs opening to accommodate you better. You simply grasp at the waistband of his boxers and pull them down until they reach the ankles, just where the trousers fell. You can see his cock twitch in anticipation. You don't even have to look up to know; you can feel his stare. When you sense that he is about to beg - and you want to save that for later - one of your hands comes into a circle. your fingers loosely around his cock. You take one look at him again, staring into his eyes, as you lower ypur open mouth to his balls, and at the first lick his hand on the duvet tightened, and you moan, closing your eyes.
You love how sensitive he is to your every touch just like you are to his. You don't put any pressure on his cock yet, choosing to focus on his balls, for now, teasing him with your tongue and hand, caressing them, licking around them, sucking them lightly into your mouth. You almost miss him moaning out your name and a soft please, and you look up at him.
‘Grab my hair, Mase.’ You don't need to say it twice, the hand that was on the duvet moves, helping you keep your hair from your face so you can focus on the task at hand. You decide not to make him wait any longer and close you fist around his cock, dragging it slowly up and down once, twice, and on the third time your hand goes down, your tongue lavishes attention to the head of his cock, his taste and smell invading your senses. You sense him gripping your hair tighter and you close your eyes, sucking the head into your mouth and moaning around it as he gets louder, his hands tightening even more. You suck him a little harder and release the head with an audible noise. Your tongue goes back to his balls, but this time to lick a strip up until you reach the head again and out it in your mouth, sucking it and going down his cock as much as you can as you close your hand against what doesn't fit.
You don't waste anymore time, bobbing your head up and down slowly at first, matching the movements with your hand while the other gives some attention to his balls just like how you know he likes. Every time your mouth moves down, you suck and press your tongue against the underside of his cock, and you feel him clench his hands on your hair more and more, still holding himself back, but you want him to just let go. This time, as you suck down, you try going deeper, feeling him hit the back of your throat and you pause for a moment, reminding yourself to breathe through your nose. You slowly move your head down, taking more and more of him until your nose is pressed against his stomach and you swallow around him, feeling him deep. This time his hands pull on your hair and you moan, which only makes him pull harder, and you choke, tears coming to your eyes. He pulls you off his cock and up to kiss him, muttering 'fuck' in your mouth.
‘You're gonna make me cum like this,’ he says.
You smile, raising your eyebrow and wordlessly go back to sucking him into your mouth. This you keep your eyes glued to his, needing to see his face as you pleasure him; whenever he is going on you and maintains eye contact you feel it is too intense, but being in this position you understand why he loves to look at you like this, underneath, receiving this pleasure. You start moving your mouth faster, sucking harder, and you press down a little more, swallowing around him. You feel him pulling on your hair, trying to have you come up again, knowing he's close by the way he's clenching his thighs and his cock is twitching in your mouth.
‘I want you to cum in my mouth, Mase,’ you say as your hand keeps the movements, not stopping his pleasure. He nods, licking his lips and opening his mouth to let out a moan while his hips press up, needing more, he's so close, so you give him what he needs.
You suck him hard, no more teasing, no more going slow or careful. It gets messy and wet, you sucking him up and down and feel his thighs clench and his hands tug on your hair, his breath becomes heavier and shorter. One of his hands grabs the sheets near his hips, gripping into the mattresses he gives you a warning that he is close. Once you know he is close, you suck deeply, deep throating him, moaning around him, encouraging and making him reach his peak. You feel his cum fill your mouth and you have a hard time swallowing with him still in your mouth, so you let some dribble out as you keep the same pressure on his cock, prolonging his pleasure until he twitches.
‘Wow! I think that was the best head I’ve ever had.’ Mason manages to get out, pulling you up into his lap. You felt a bit flustered after realising what you just did, and your face said it all. ‘Don’t get all shy on me now, we’ve got a long night ahead of us,’ he winks, after realising you went quiet and found your face hiding in the crook of Mason’s neck inhaling his cologne which almost sent you to your knees again.
‘Not yet Mr, in case you’ve forgotten we’ve got an afterparty to attend in approximately 40 mins and I need to do my makeup again. Can’t go down looking like this now, can I?’ You finally speak, now getting out of your hiding spot and looking Mason in the eye, he just smiles down at you, ‘Fuck, how did i get so lucky?’ Mason lets a whisper completely disregarding your previous comments. ‘And to answer your question, No, this side of you is only for me to see. You’re an angel in the streets and a devil in the sheets.’ Mason smirks, leaving you speechless once again.
__
The afterparty was quite eventful and the entire night you could feel Mason’s lingering looks, it’s like you both knew what was going to happen when you got straight to the hotel.
And your gut feeling was right.
You had already been one orgasm down but you knew you wanted to try something different by being on top, you didn’t know how he would react but you wanted to watch him lay back and relax whilst you’re riding him.
‘You got another one in you for me, sweetheart?’ His deep, sensual voice is smooth as butter as he whispers. Hovering over you, he lines himself to your entrance and lets his spare hand lace with yours on the bed while the other gives his cock a few tugs.
‘Wait,’ your tone is stifling. You breathe as you place your hands on his broad shoulders. ‘Tonight I want to try something different for you,’ For a brief moment, you make eye contact enough to feel secure in each other's company. Your body moves slowly from under him, luring him to lie down on your king sized hotel bed with your silky sheets tumbling around you. As you straddle him, his palms caress your hips and his hand rests on the small of your back. ‘Relax for me, Mase.’ You whisper, gently planting a kiss on his lips, holding his stubbly cheek in your palm.
He nods, breath hitching in his throat as he gazes at you, your lips swirling around his fully erect cock, hand pumping him. He lets out a soft moan watching you as you barely taste him, the pre cum seeping out of his tip devoured by your sleek mouth.
Your thighs straddle him, lining his tip with your entrance on top, once you’ve primed him, his cock glistening with your clit. His cock slides effortlessly from your glossy arousal for him as you guide him inside of you, your moans threading together. Your hands clasp his chest, providing stability. You rock your hips slowly and sensually at first, giving each other time to get used to get used to one another.
‘Wait, Y/N.’ Your face drops at him calling out your name, you wondered if he didn’t want this, you were getting ready to get off his lap until Mason held you in place before reaching for the bedside table, where it had the FA Cup medal. You gave him a look at first wondering if he was instantiating what you were thinking. ‘As much as I think riding me alone is the hottest thing, I want you to wear the medal whilst you’re riding me. That would send through the roof.’ Mason says, clearing your doubts. You move your head forward so he could put it on you.
‘You can carry on now,’ he winks.
His lips utter muffled groans as he watches you bounce on his pulsating cock.
‘Tell me if this feels good, okay?’ You cup his cheek once again and plant a tiny kiss on his jaw. You let motion take control and your hips rotate in a half circle.
His cock, which is buried deep inside you, hits your end this time as you bounce slowly, grinding, and you make sure to rock your hips a little more. The sloppy sounds of the wetness pumping in and out, He moans your name in an enticing deep tone, and he is so thankful for you right now.
Mason’s hands are on your waist and his eyes are closed as you guide yourself on his twitching member, ‘F-fuck.’ he softly moans, stammers and rolls his eyes to the back of his head. Drops of sweat glisten on his forehead as you tightly grip his biceps.
‘Does that feel good, baby?’ You gently gasp when his cock hits your G-spot, hips motioning up and down now.
‘So good.’ His teeth are clenched, a whimper falling from his lips as his hands come to hold over yours on his chest. Squeezing your hand tight as you clench your walls around him, each inch of him is felt, filling inside. ‘Please don’t stop, baby.’ He bites his lips. ‘Keep going love, just like that.’ He grunts when you go deeper, tightening around him. The pads of Mason’s thumbs are digging into your skin now.
You feel Mason thrust up into you, ever so slightly, meeting your hips half way. He swiftly pulls you down flush to his chest, your boobs and the cold feeling of the medal pressed against him, so vulnerable, exposed for him, Your skin sticking to one another. His breath is moist against your lips as your forehead touches and you gaze deeply into each other's eyes for a while uttering gasps and groans that fill the air. Your brows furrow in total ecstasy as your hips continue to move sensually on his cock.
Mason’s arms are wrapped around you, holding your body close as he kisses your face endlessly, between moans. You’re a whiny mess on top of him, trying your best to focus on making him feel good.
It’s the least he deserves after the day he’s had.
The feeling of him stretching you, filling you to the brim, your clit ached to the way his cock pounds in and out of you as you move, feeling completely full. It’s a unique kind of ultimate bliss, something only the two of you have the pleasure of indulging in.
He quivers, whimpering almost as soon as you circle and rotate your hips in a different way.
‘I won’t be able to last much longer, Y/N, I'm so close,’ He trembles and shivers as your pussy moves a little bit quicker at this point, your hips curving in full motion. ‘Baby, you’re taking me so well.’
‘No.’ you groan softly, the sound of your skin slapping together loud, your ass pounding his thighs, your creamy release glistening at him. His thoughts are captivated by the way you fit him like a glove. You stop dead in your tracks and plant a kiss on his lips, your foreheads meeting as you do so.
Your fingers interlock his hair, you let out small, breathy moans, soothing him. ‘Not yet, baby.’ You sigh, nuzzling his neck. ’All good things to those who wait.’
He nods, pulling you closer, his lips parted and his chest flushed pink, rising and falling. ‘You just feel so good.’ His deep voice makes you shiver, with small groans and husky tones as you pulse him. ’So drenched for me.’
In an instant, you are rocking and rolling oh him, feeling the waves of his cock as you move up and down on it, your hand reaching out to grasp his hand again. You can feel him trembling and twitching as he tries his best to hold off cumming deep inside right at that second.
Knowing he’s close, Mason takes a hold of your hand and gradually leads it down to his balls. ‘Can you..’ His words cease, a deep groan coming to his lips when he feels your fingertips on them. You know how much he enjoys it when you play with them and how it always pushes him over the brink. You massage, fondling them whilst he skims your gorgeously voluptuous boobs.
You’re practically crying from how good it feels; how good he feels. His hands move over your body, rubbing and caressing your plump boobs as they bounce along with you and the medal. Mason considers every part of your body to be his own little piece of heaven.
Somewhere only he had the right to be welcomed.
Each inch of his cock fills you as he sinks in and out, restrained compliments for you from his mouth as he watches, a jumble of messy moans from beneath you. Picking up the pace again, you hear his groans become louder and louder, knowing he’s getting closer as you edge him, only to stop your hips again as he’s about to release. With your touch stroking his temple, you gently kiss his jaw again, quietly whispering into his ear.
‘Not just yet, baby. Hold off for me a bit longer.’ Nuzzling your face into his neck, you paint delicate love bites while moving up and down on him, his hands wandering to your ass, moaning and groaning in delight, needily in your ear.
You’re exactly what he needed to feel, sweet relief, blissfully warm, wet, and tight. He craved it more than anything at that moment. Every now and then, you gasp quietly as your pussy throbs for him; the noises only make him want more.
Sitting up straight, you now press your hands to his chest, bouncing, harder, deeper, quicker, whirling in all directions, ready to deliver the climax you both craved. Mason starts to fall apart beneath you, your skin colliding quickly and meaninglessly and your actions wild and demanding.
You move faster, ‘Eyes on me, love. That’s it princess. I wanna watch you.’ You’re giving it your all, each string of nerves inside you is pulled, you fear you’re going to snap. He’s holding you so tight, as if scared you’ll disappear, he whispers in your ear, cooing how much he loves you and how good you make him feel.
Your release streams down his thighs, squirting out as you bounce faster, practically crying on top of him. He feels so amazing, almost too good to be true, and the twitching and pulsing of his cock is divine. Each curve and vein of his huge dick digs into you, leaving you sore and delicate.
Unable to restrain himself, Mason begins pounding up into you, meeting your hips. You cry, giving it your all as you bounce quickly, clutching his bicep. ‘Oh Y/N,’ he repeatedly exclaims.
Glancing between, he notices his cock glistening with your slickness, each motion of your hips, balls practically slamming into your core each time.
‘Cum for me, Mase.’ You say whilst biting your lip. ‘Fill me up.’ Tears pricking at how good he makes you feel.
‘Together.’ Mason moans in pleasure, bringing his thumb down to your clit to stroke circles. ‘Cum all over my cock, darling. Let go for me.’ He takes a sharp breath.
Within seconds, you both reach your high, foreheads pressed hard against each other so you can feel Mason close by, hip is bouncing through your orgasms. Mason’s cock slams into you again, only slowing when he spills into you, creamy ribbons of his cum filling you whole. He stops along with your hips, buried deep inside, still throbbing as your pussy aches around him, tender, sore, and delicate.
You’re now out of breath, and Mason’s arms keep you close to his chest as it rises and falls. You open your eyes, as he does, to join your gazes, his cheek flushed pink. You giggle, kissing his lips while still panting, ‘How was that?’ You ask, wincing as his cock moves slightly inside of you as he shifts whilst still buried in you.
‘So fucking good, baby. This is the best you’ve ever given me.’ Mason kisses your palm and holds it to his chest.
You smile, knowing how well you’ve done and how good you’ve treated him.
‘Now, it’s my turn to take care of you. Just so you know, I’m not going to let you go lightly. My teasing is gonna be ten times worse, baby.’ Mason smirks.
Mason’s lips trail lower, deep purple stained marks embedding their way into your skin from his hungering lips, and you softly smile, your lips curling into the gentlest of grins, watching the way Mason loves on you so well, leaving not an inch of your skin untouched.
His fingers are deep into you, your wetness soaking his fingers. His fingers move and please. The pleasure he gives flutters over your form, resulting in pleasantly rich orgasm’s. It approaches at a slow pace at first. As the peak - that sweet spot hits, it starts to build, rising with the tide. It comes, it pours but it never truly goes away.
Your legs and clit are spread out by him. Your scent of sex yearning heat enveloped his senses; a scent Mason had stored away in the depths of his mind for longing nights spent absent from his love. His sturdy fingers held open delicate folds whilst he lightly kissed your sensitive clit. ‘All mine.’ He breathes into your pussy as he lightly pecks along your soaking folds. ‘Can’t believe you’re all mine.’ He smiles, smirking up, catching a delightful view of your dewy skin. Your fingers thread through his chocolate locks nestled in your clit. ‘Can’t believe your body is all mine.’ Kissing lightly along the insides of your thighs, marking your skin as his and only his.
Through the quiet whimpers and shuddering breaths, you whine for him, your small, dainty fingers reaching, always reaching for his soft hair. You lightly tug on his hair, the sensation of his lips adoring your skin and his strong hands gently caressing your bare thighs, sending butterflies soaring through your body. ‘Mase.’ You moan as you feel his lips curl into a smile. The sound of his name falling gracefully off your lips is his favourite sound as it makes it feel like you’re his and his only.
You are his favourite sound. You scream, whimper, spill, ‘Mase,’ over and over again. His beautiful eyes which you can get lost into forever slowly wander to yours, a smile spreading over his lips as his hand reaches out to meet yours on the frantic white sheets. His lips meet yours in a kiss that is drenched in affection as he takes your hand in his and squeezes it with confidence. Mason’s lips intertwine with yours in such a delicate and tender way that you’re left staring into his chocolate orbs while your hand clutches and fits against his, holding yours like a puzzle piece.
‘Patience, baby.’ A soft bruise appears on your neck where his lips made love to your flesh, and purple hues pour over the area as he smiles into your skin. The swell of your breasts, bare and exposed with shadowed, pebbled nipples perking just for him, was your flawlessly attractive body. With anticipation of pleasing you so perfectly, he sinks a kiss into the valley of your chest, his moist lips scattering to your breasts, a trail of delicate kisses dotting your stomach.
With his lips hovering over your clit, his fingers spreading you, languidly stroking over your clit as stifling moans fill his ears. The sweetness of your quick arousal meets his tongue in a quick wash of your sweetness.His hand reaching up to thread yours once more to your side, He dives into you and gently caressing your clit nestled between, his thumb soothingly grazes the skin of your palm and his spare hand resting on your thigh.
Mason’s tongue flicks you in a way that varies between quick and languid, enticing your tender spots and blending his tongue’s flow with your moisture. He grins at you and says, ‘Baby, you’re soaked.’ A deep groan sends from the pit of his mouth, the sounds of his mouth slicking, his nose brushing against your folds, generating jolts of warm pleasure as he happily your whole. ‘Fuck, Mase!’ You cry out as you feel him sucking eagerly on your moist, gushing folds and lapping your creamy glisten. Your weak legs spread further out for him, your hand tightly gripping his in a painful squeeze.
Right now, to Mason, nothing mattered other than your body and your pleasure.
The way he leaves you is a mess; his lips spread your slick gleam of soaking arousal all over your clit, and the creamy build up of need soaks the inside of you as you whine for him. His beard shines with your dripping wetness, and his tongue speeds up movement when you moan out his name louder than before, a routine of signal of your proximity to release he’d become much familiar with through numerous occasions of love making they’d shared with each other.
When he places his hot breath on your clit, you feel a wave of pleasure crash over your body, causing your body to tense and your toes to curl. His lips never leave your clit, gliding over your pussy as he gently guides you down from bliss. You feel like a bliss of release almost as if you were seeing stars for a brief moment. His cock lifted in response to your whimpers and groans, revealing a deep desire to be buried within the cosy and moist walls of shelter he had just made.
You laboured, your breath quickening and huffing as you let out steam from the third orgasm he’d given you within a matter of minutes.
‘You got another in you for me, baby?’ He speaks in a deep tone. You can feel a bulge of dangerously eager cock against your stomach. His lips trace up, leaving an unrestricted amount of kisses and scattering moist pecks over your naked glory, a little sheen of dewy sweat apparent on your flushed cheeks. Slow, sensual hands wander your body . Your fingers grab for him again through suffocating breaths, yearning to feel him close - so close, in fact, that you’d become one.
You feel the weight of his cock stroking your clit every time he moves, beads of pre cum pricking your skin from his thick tip. His lips are still adoring your silky skin, and he has his body positioned above you, held close by his toned biceps. Every vein in his member throbs, waiting to be taken by you. ‘Mason,’ you manage, your words lost on his lips when you meet in a searing kiss. His bites of affection litter your chin, your jaw, only stopping when you reach up to cup his face in a desperate plea. ‘Fuck me.’ You manage to get out, the throb between your weak legs intensifying, ‘Take care of me like you do, baby.’
Chuckling quietly, a delicate smirk washes over his features, his lips twisting into a smile as he leaves a final kiss to your lips. With his hefty cock in hand, he directs, lining his cock into your clit, gentle groans and breathless breaths tampering through skin on skin as his hips roll at a frustrating gradual speed.
Mason slides in, a short dip of his cock inside you, before sliding out. You cling onto him, your claws digging into the rosy fleshed skin of his back,as his head finds a home between the soft spots of your shoulders and your neck. Sliding back in, you beg him to go faster through frantic groans, the stretch of him inside creating a familiar burn you’d become used to over the years you had been with him. A soft moan escapes yours and Mason’s mouths, the sensation of you tightening around him sends shivers back. With each thrust, he plunges, burying and searching deeper and deeper inside, his bulging veins pulsating against your walls.
With every firm push and open mouthed kisses against your neck, he sinks inch by inch. The ache inside you grows;your groans becoming necessary and your gentle yelps becoming more frequent by the second.
He knew exactly what he was doing to you. ‘Fuck,sweetheart.’ Mason praises. You cry out a moan between loud, broken breaths, gripping fistfuls of the white sheets piled in a sea around their bodies, a hand caging to your mouth, muffling loud, vulgar groans that fall carelessly. Mason goes deeper and deeper, until rolled thrusts strike your end. Mason’s name comes off your mouth in a desperate plea. ‘You feel,’ he groans, clutching to your body tighter, ‘so,so good baby.’ His deep grunts rummage between your skin, demanding thrusts burying inside you with each movement, your body shivering with need, feeling the pulse of his swollen cock caged inside.
Mason’s pace quickly becomes faster by the second, with every dip into your warm haven, he showers you with praises, marking you with kisses and wet traces of his love generously on your skin.
The room was filled with the sound of your skin slapping, with each powerful plunge, a string of incoherent moans flooding his lips, The sensation of your walls milking his cock is a trance of its own. You whimper while he drills into you, jaw tightening, teeth gritting to the feel of nestling within you; his favourite place to be.His erection is stiff, tearing you open as his veiny bulk pounds in furiously, the words of praise that mist in the air pushing you into a frenzy of it own. ‘Gonna make you feel so good, princess.’ He encourages, his finger finding its way massaging to your sensitive clit.
With a swift motion, he pumps his hips and dips his fingers encouragingly into your smooth folds. You gasp when you feel this sinful touch, your head falling hopelessly to his shoulder as the sheen of his milky arousal envelops you.’Mase, don’t…don’t stop.’ You cry out feeling a wave of tears vulnerably fall from the corners of your eyes at the thought of how magnificently he fuck you.The bedframe creaking due to his demanding pace.
Your boobs move at his speed, bouncing relentlessly, his cock gleaming with your fluids, sliding with your mixture of releases interfering. Your body trembles beneath him as you cry out in a suffocating tone, placing your hands on his broad shoulders causing your figure to jolt with every thrust he delivers.
He savours each moan; he grunts when you close your walls around him, your pussy shapes particularly for him. Your foreheads brush as you stare attentively into each other's eyes, gasping in passionate motion, ‘Listen to the sound’s you’re making.’ Mason smiles, the sounds of your pussy pouring with ecstasy from his dick, fucking you so well, almost making you grit your teeth, eyes stinging. With a gaping angle, Mason’s cock hits your end deeper, and you tremble, shiver, and gush for him.
‘Mase!’ You groan out, anxiously clutching him tight, your fingernails digging into his skin. ‘Mason, please don’t stop, baby.’ Your words barely make it out as a whisper.
His cock dives within you repeatedly, the intimacy is far too intense. The pulse of his cock inside pairs with your perfectly, his tone husky, his praise loving, and his groans sweet.
You feel your core tighten, the burning stretch is unmatched, whimpering needily in his neck as he thrusts faster, quicker, harder, deeper, messier.
A burst of warm release gushes out, wet and spurting, coating his cock.
Your eyes are watering, your skin is sticky with sweat droplets , you feel hot and flushed, uncontrollable pleads and whimpers leaving your throat. Your legs spread widely and your clit is devoured by Mason’s cock, you experience a powerful and extremely strong orgasm that consumes your entire body. Mason’s cock moves at a steady speed. As he continues to drill his hips into your pussy, Mason praises you. ‘That’s it, my good girl,’ with peppered kisses to your skin. ‘Look at how you drip for me.’
Mason smirks, nibbling your neck, watching the way you moan. Senselessly, the curve of his shaft massages your sore, aching walls, leaving you delicate after your release, chasing his own.
Inhaling sharply, Mason feels his own orgasm coming close as his cock twitches through deep gasps and muffled moans. The warm, creamy wetness you’d created for him sent shockwaves of warmth, snapping at every vein in his cock and making every nerve in his body crave you.You hold tight onto his biceps, burying your face in his shoulder when he spills inside you through strings of his glossy cum.The insides of your walls are coated, adding to the milky wet haven you’d held particularly for him.
In the aftermath, your pussy aches around him.
Sensitive and sore.
Deep down, somewhere inside, you feel full, tainted by his quality, silky cum. His member is still dozing in your lush walls in the heat of the aftermath, the euphoria of the heat surrounding us contributing to soothing rides off a soaring high shared between us. Your chest heaving, parted lips, his forehead connecting with yours as his eyes flutter closed, feeling confined inside the woman of his dreams.
You’ll always be the woman of his dreams.
#mason mount x reader#mason mount story#mason mount fan fic#mason mount one shot#mason mount fanfic#mason mount fluff#mason mount smut#mason mount#mason mount blurb#mason mount imagine#mason mount x oc#mason mount x you#mason mount x y/n
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hi!!! could i please request prompts l17 & r20 for theo nott? 🤭
good ones never wait
theo nott x fem!hufflepuff!reader
yesss!!
L17 - His hands around a cold glass make me wanna know that body like it's mine
R20 - Only bought this dress so you could take it off
suggestive at the end but no smut!
theodore aurelius nott the man that you are 😌
nav slytherin boys masterlist
your heart was pounding in your chest as you watched the scene unfold in front of you. theodore nott, your best friend, and also the man you were irreversibly in love with, had just finished the first quidditch practice of the season. despite his teammates insistence that you were only there to spy for your house team, theo had invited you to watch for some reason you had yet to figure out.
still, watching him wipe sweat, dirt, and god knows whatever else from his perfect face while he grinned with his mates did something to your insides. couldn’t your heart just be still for once?
after being friends with theo for nearly five years, you’d learned to tune out the butterflies for the most part. but crushing on theodore nott isn’t something that one just gets over. he’s the kind of guy that you’d spend your whole life helplessly in love with.
“sweet little puff. if you’re so infatuated, ask nott out.”
the voice of pansy parkinson in your ear made you jump.
after gathering yourself once more, you shrugged thoughtlessly at the idea. of course you’d like to think he’d say yes. but with theo there was no telling. he’d never had a girlfriend his entire time at hogwarts. in fact, now that you really thought about it, you couldn’t remember him ever even giving any of the numerous girls that asked him out a chance.
he was so well known for instant rejections that eventually even his most committed fan girls had simply given up.
“pfh.”
you made a noise of disbelief in pansy’s direction.
“sure, and ruin a five year friendship with my best friend. no thanks.”
“no, you’d much rather wallow in your feelings and never say a word about it to anyone except me apparently.”
she stood up from next to you and held out a hand. a silent invitation.
“the worst he could say is no, y/n. and at least if he does, you can start moving on.”
you grasped her hand and allowed her to pull you up, but inside you knew that there was no moving on from theodore nott. he would always have a place in your heart. you’d resigned yourself to that a long time ago.
it was a stiff silence as the pair of you made your way to where the boys were all shoving each other and rolling around in the quidditch pitch. you watched with amusement as theo shoved mattheo’s face into the grass with a playful grip on his dark curls.
as he noticed your approach, he looked up from his entanglement with a broad smile. “y/n!”
his temporary distraction gave mattheo the few vital seconds he needed, and a few moments later, he’d wrapped his arms around the taller boy’s waist and maneuvered himself to pin him.
“too slow, aurelius. distracted by your little girlfriend like usual.”
whatever theo said next was drowned out by mattheo’s rather unmanly shriek as enzo wriggled free of blaise’s grasp and flung himself at mattheo’s head.
pansy leaned over to you.
“at least come to our little gathering tonight. nothing big, just slytherin house. and of course, our little badger.”
“where theo is, i am.”
—
there was a part of you that wished that statement could be untrue for at least once in your life. you weren’t typically much of a party person, but since you were nearly joined at the hip with the nott boy, where theo went, you followed. and vice versa.
after forcing him into countless bookstores with you, it was really only fair that you join him for the occasional night of uninterrupted revelry.
especially since so many bodies in one room meant that theo would be practically on top of you the entire time.
you tugged at the green sundress in hopes that it was straight. you’d only bought it because theo said it would look good on you when you’d gone shopping together this past summer. but you hadn’t had an occasion to wear it yet and figured tonight was as good a night as any. softly clearing your throat, you spoke the password and watched in amazement as a snake seemed to appear out of nowhere, slithering to form the door to the slytherin common room.
the moment you stepped foot inside, music thrummed through your body. after a quick scan of the room, you found your serpents as they lounged across some furniture in a corner. yet, upon approaching, you noticed theo’s absence.
“your boy is getting you a drink.”
draco nodded to the drink table where sure enough, theo was pouring up some sort of concoction. you softly excused yourself and started your way towards him.
theo’s friends watched on as the boy completely lit up when he saw you. mattheo felt a plan began to hatch.
enzo, who apparently recognized the look on mattheo’s face, immediately began to shake his head violently.
“no. whatever you’re thinking of doing, don’t.”
immediately, mattheo’s face twisted into a look equal parts disbelief and exasperation.
“oh come on, don’t tell me you aren’t tired of those two dancing circles around each other.” he took a swig of his drink and then stood dramatically. “we all know there’s only one way to fix this.”
midway through a rather animated conversation with theo, you felt a large hand in your own. out of the corner of your eye you could see mattheo with his signature smirk.
“don’t hog her all night, aurelius. c’mon sweetheart let’s dance.”
before you could reject him, the boy had dragged you onto the dance floor and was yanking you in various directions while “dancing” with you. of course, mattheo was respectful of you and theodore’s albeit odd relationship and simply held your hands while dancing with you.
still, he knew that it wouldn’t take much to rile up his friend when it came to you. and having you ripped away from him while he was in the middle of admiring you would be frustrating no doubt.
and thus, no longer than ten seconds into your dance, mattheo was ripped away from you by his collar and dragged off by a rather irritated theo.
well, anyways.
pansy grinned knowingly as you made your way back to where she and the others were sitting. she clearly knew something. you pulled her from the couch by her wrist and out of ear shot of the boys.
“what the hell pansy?”
“mattheo has a brilliant plan to get dear little theodore to confess his feelings for you.”
“oh yeah. brilliant.” you say sarcastically. “one problem though. theodore doesn’t have feelings for me.”
she rolled her eyes at you, then fixed you with a stare so intense you were suddenly reminded of why she was in slytherin.
“yes he does. honestly, you like him too right? cause it doesn’t really seem like it anymore.”
you blushed at the thoughts that entered your head. you really shouldn’t be thinking these things about your best friend but there you were.
“his hands around a cold glass make me wanna know that body like it’s mine.”
pansy wriggled her eyebrows suggestively at you.
“well then you better go get him before he blows a blood vessel in his neck.”
she motioned behind you lazily. when you turned, theo was standing a few feet away from you and sure enough was glaring intensely at a grinning mattheo on the couch, looking as though he may kill the boy any second now.
deciding that mattheo’s death would be annoying for everyone to deal with, you approached theo timidly. yet, when his gaze met yours, you felt at peace.
your muscles relaxed involuntarily under his stare, and the closer you got to him, the more your mind seemed to clear. every thought jumped soundlessly from your brain to make room for the only thing that mattered: theodore.
"why do you let him rile you up theo?"
“he knows all the right buttons to press.”
“just ignore him.”
the brunette shook his head.
“i can’t do that. not when it’s you.”
your mouth fell open at his confession. thoughts raced through your brain but none of them actually tumbled off your tongue.
“you don’t have to say anything, bella. it’s okay that you don’t feel the same, i just needed you to know.”
your arms snaked up to wrap around his neck. electricity surged through the air and a grin spread across your face as you pulled the boy into a kiss.
“you’re so cute when you’re all dumb.”
theo’s thick brows sunk in confusion.
“i only bought this dress so you could take it off.”
—
@moonlightreader649 @thatdammchickennugget @helendeath @fandom-life-12 @bouquetolegoflowers @maryvibess @nighttimemoonlover
#slytherin boys#theodore nott#slytherin#theo nott#theo nott x reader#theodore nott x reader#slytherin boys x reader
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from the vault:
won't ask you to stay / but let me ask you one thing
》 Out of Love, Alessia Cara
》 Leah Williamson x Reader
》 fall out of love [idiom]: to no longer feel romantic love for someone
When Leah comes into your life, you don’t even notice at first. Her steps are light and her presence is comforting, never out of place or out of time.
It ends like it starts.
It starts with a jacket forgotten one late night, the summer air and your joined hands shielding her from the cold enough to leave it in your living room. You notice the piece of clothing the next morning, claiming it as your own.
It continues with vinyl records piling up in your library, some brought from her own apartment and others added just for you to listen to as you live around each other. You notice it after months, getting rid of some neglected plants to make more room for the growing collection.
It ends with her toothbrush next to yours, left behind after weeks of her not even coming to sleep at home anymore. You noticed it this morning, starting to gather her things for her to pick up.
It ends just like it starts, with light steps and a comforting absence.
“I think it’s all”
Leah emerges from the bedroom with a box full of what you assume are the last of her clothes.
Not even caring about what the blonde is putting in there, you leave her doing whatever she is here to do.
You already hid her jacket and she already has your heart, it’s not like she can take much more from you.
The truth is you wish to be anywhere else, not really in the right state of mind to watch the love of your life make disappear any sign this was once a shared heaven.
Your apartment turned into a crime scene and she’s getting rid of the evidence.
“Did you get the boots from outside?”
“Oh”, the English girl almost drops the box to turn as fast as she can.
You make no move to help her, so she has to open the door window without her hands.
She reappears after a minute, out of breath, “So, I–”
“The book on your bedside table?”
Leah looks embarrassed to have to go back into the bedroom, debating whether she should pretend to have already taken it.
The walk of shame is short and bittersweet, the box still secured in her arms.
You wish she’d hold you instead, her embrace always able to grant you and make you feel like a person can actually be the safest place on earth. The longing to ask her for a hug is too much to bear, you rise from the sofa to hide in the kitchen.
Busing yourself with the excuse of a coffee, you realise you’re crying when a couple of big tears mark the sleeve of your shirt – too used to a silent plea.
The athlete makes her way around you on tiptoes, like approaching a wounded and scared animal. The distance between the two of you is palpable, the box makes it physically evident too. It’s getting ridiculous.
“Can you put that shit down?”
“I– I’m not sure where”
Looking at Leah for the first time in weeks makes you immediately remember why you’ve been adamant about not finding yourself in her proximity.
She doesn’t seem as sleep deprived as you sure are, or drained of life as you feel. She’s hurt, you know.
You have not spent a stupid amount of time admiring her features to not know how she shows her feelings or tracing each new crease to not know what which ones mean. You know she’s hurt, but you know she’s hurt for you.
“Can I ask you one thing?”, you finally ask.
“I don’t think–”
“I’m not gonna ask you to stay”
She almost exhales in relief and you almost die right there.
“When did you fall out of love with me?”
#woso x reader#leah williamson x reader#leah williamson#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso#from the vault
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too pretty to think.
when art started to slip, it almost felt like falling asleep…
a. donaldson x reader
word count: 2,216
contents: dumbification, body worship, face sitting, multiple orgasms, cuming untouched, brief mommy kink, subspace, nicknames and pet names, this is freak nasty.
Xx
The first time
You and Art have been going steady for 6 months and you loved every second of it. the two of you mostly hung out at your place, it's a tad cleaner than his dorm and he never bothered with things like decorations. It was a haven for the both of you. So when your Blackberry buzzed with a message asking,
“r u home?”
It was hardly out of the ordinary.
“yeah. just changed clothes”
“can i come over?”
“of course”
Donaldson is a man who never knows when to quit. Let's rephrase: He’ll only quit when instructed to.
He treats his body like a machine. He eats what his nutritionist tells him to, he pushes his body to the limit, and he rarely turns in a paper late.
When you opened your front door your boyfriend was in chaotic ruins. His eyes were puffy and his cheeks were stained. He stared at the floor with his calloused hands in his pockets.
“Oh my gosh, what happened?? What’s wrong?”
Your tone had urgency as you ushered him inside. Once the door is closed he pulls you in for a hug. You don’t dare speak, just hug back. He’ll tell you when he’s ready.
It’s obvious he’s trying to hold himself together, but stroking his back caused him to break.
“Aw, baby,”
You sway him from side to side.
“Shh, it’s ok. I’m here.”
After a few minutes, Art regained control of his breathing. You put him at arm's length—your voice just above a whisper.
“Would you like to come lay down with me? We don’t have to talk about it if you don't want to, let's just get you comfortable.”
Art sniffles and nods his head—your poor baby.
You held his hand and led the way to your room. You sat on your bed with your back against the wall so he could lay between your legs. He often takes this position when you guys are watching movies so it will add a level of comfort for him.
Art takes some deep breaths as you run your nails through his hair.
“We got a new coach and he- he’s so intense. I don’t know. I’ve been berated by coaches since I was 13. Why the hell is this one affecting me differently?”
You twist one of his curls in your fingers.
“Everything's just so much right now. Schoolwork, post-graduation plans, sponsorships… There's so much going on all the time. I- I can’t do it.”
Your heart broke for him.
“I’m so sorry, Artie. I wish I could take it all away from you.”
You rubbed his arms and back for who knows how long. It could have been hours. You didn’t care. You’d cancel your week's agenda if that’s what he needed. You weren’t getting up until he felt better.
You analyzed his words.
“It’s not that you’re unable to make decisions, and it’s not that you make bad decisions. It’s just that decisions are constant unrelenting work… is that an accurate assessment?”
He nodded and sighed into your shirt like you were the one person in the world who understood him.
“...And a good boy like you should never have to work.”
Art froze.
Well, that’s new.
You decided to test the waters further and put on your most sultry voice.
“Don’t worry baby, I’ll think for you.”
He let out a sound that can only be described as a mewl. His body curled into a semi-circle.
You swept some hair out of his eyes, they seemed to get droopier.
I don't know what exactly is transpiring he’s responding to it.
“Let your thoughts go. You don’t need them.”
Eyes are fully closed now.
“Can you unclench your jaw for me? That’s it.”
He does as he's told, falling deeper into whatever hollow you're creating. He bites back a smile but his blush is evident. So easy to get him to blush. One of his cutest attributes.
Next step is Moving your handsome boy to lay on his stomach so you can rub his shoulders. You hear him sigh while the tension is worked out of his muscles and watch him relax under your hands.
Walking him through some deep breaths while you place dozens of soft, light kisses on his neck.
You want to make him understand what a privilege it is to have him.
Rubbing his thighs and calves, slowly melting away the stress of the day. Kisses on the backs of his knees while he laughs and tells you to stop that and that it tickles.
Helping him turn over to lie on his back and climbing carefully on top to straddle him.
You toy with the hem of his shirt.
“Can I take this off?”
He looks up at you. mouth open and nods.
It causes you to giggle.
“Thank you.”
Once that’s out of the way your hands wander up to his chest while trailing more impossibly light kisses down his Adam's apple. Massaging his chest, squeezing and grabbing and just feeling his skin.
Kissing his collarbones, trailing your tongue along the dip where they meet under his neck. Slowly working that boy up with teasing touches that only get more and more unbearable.
Slowly returning to his lips to kiss him again while you reach down to trail your fingertips over his cock. He pants and whines so sweetly into your mouth while you play with his cock. You're not even trying to make him cum-- not yet.
I could do this all day.
Letting him drift in a fuzzy-headed space while you work your fingers soft and slow over his pants. Doesn't need to worry about anything but your hands on his body. You're right here to keep him safe and make him feel good.
“There's nothing I love more than watching my brilliant, polite, well-spoken boyfriend turn mindless.”
Art whined and bucked his hips up to meet your hand.
“I need to be in you so bad. Please.”
Who are you to refuse him?
“Don't worry baby, I’ll give you what you want.”
You slid off him and he reached for you, like he couldn’t stand you being an inch away for any amount of time. You chuckled and took off your bottoms and underwear, he copied.
You hopped back on top of him, which made him break out into a smile. His girl was about to take care of him.
You grabbed his cock and started stroking him.
“I don’t know if I’m wet enough, Artie.”
“Sitonmyface.” He begged all in one breath.
You bit your lip so as not to laugh at him. It wasn’t in a mean way, no no! He was just so excited about it. It’s adorable and flattering all at the same time.
“Are you sure? We’ve never done that before.”
We haven’t done a lot of this before.
He shamelessly nodded. Grabbing your waist with both hands and shifting your body up before you could protest.
“I don’t want to crush you.”
At this point, he was panting. A dog seconds away from getting a treat.
“You won’t.”
Art has eaten you out before, and it’s been wonderful. But this? This is a new kind of ecstasy.
His tongue reaches new trenches.
And that fucking nose. It bumped your clit every time. You were gasping and making noises you didn’t know were possible. His mouth is memorizing your folds. He's getting off on your arousal. His tip is red and hurting, but can barely care when a taste crafted just for him is on his lips.
“Shit. Just like that.”
Your thighs trapped his face, your breath hitched with every thrust, and your walls clenched around his tongue.
“Oh god, oh god,”
Truthfully, Art didn't know which of you came first.
The only thing he knew was your body.
You shuffled down and kissed all over his face which was covered in your release.
“You made mommy feel so good.”
He smiled up at you. He was so proud that he could do that for you. Like it was his purpose in life. And oh did he love that nickname. It made him feel all soft, like when you recall a fond memory.
“Do you want Mommy to sit on your cock?”
He whimpered and nodded.
You lined yourself up with him and sank. It was so easy due to both of your juices, you had to concentrate on lowering slowly so he didn’t bottom out too fast.
The two of you moaned in unison. It was almost tantric. Even though the focus here is on Art, it’s impossible not to feel the same pleasure. It wasn’t just your sexualities that were aligned but your souls. The love you felt for each other was palpable.
It didn’t take long for him to bottom out. But it wasn’t enough. You ground your hips into him, causing his voice to raise an octave.
“Oh fuck. Hnnn! Fuck, feels so good, please.”
He was babbling nonsense, unable to create cohesive thoughts or keep any sounds in.
You remove his hands clutching the sheets and replace them with your own. To bring him back to earth.
When he couldn’t get enough he bucked his hips up into yours. Moving aimlessly, mindlessly. You held his hips down to the mattress and bounced on his dick. The sounds of his cock hitting your weeping entrance were insanely beautiful and sinful to listen to.
“Such a good boy.”
His dick jumped inside of you at that. Seemingly of its own volition.
You shifted to pepper kisses on his jawline. The new position forced his cock to rub all kinds of new places. You nearly collapsed onto him from the shock. Heavy exhales leave your mouth. Your pussy suffocates his cock.
“My good boy. Just a dumb little thing for me to use isn't that right.”
Art came on the spot. No warning. His skin flushed and curls were damp on his forehead. Words were coiled at his throat, coming out as broken sobs, wanting more.
You rode him until it was clear he'd finished.
“Did you cum for me, baby?”
“Yes. I'm sorry I should’ve said something I couldn't help it. Felt too good, I didn’t -“
“Shh sweetheart, you did nothing wrong. You can cum in me as many times as you like. That's what I’m here for. That’s what this,” you clenched around him, “is for.”
“Fuck.” his breath quivering. He arched his back, sensitive little thing.
“I love it when you spill yourself into me. it’s so warm in here now.”
You placed his hand on your lower stomach, your womb.
“Can we go again please?”
“Are you sure? I don't want to push you.”
He shuffled so you were both sitting up. causing you to gasp. His erection never left, and it’s ever so prevalent right now.
“Please! Wanna keep myself buried here forever.”
It was hard to remain the level-headed one after hearing that.
“You make me so wet when you say that, Artie.”
There's drool coming from his mouth as he watches you talk. Nothing behind those eyes.
“So wet and needy.”
You soften your voice, and when you talk it’s into his mouth.
“You gonna let me take you again?”
He groaned and nodded, then ferociously kissed you. He wrapped his strong arms around your torso and immediately disliked how much fabric was between the two of you. He ripped your t-shirt and sports bra off in nearly one motion. Sighing when he felt skin on skin.
“I’m going to play with you until there's nothing in that head except my name.”
And you did. You fucked him till his brain turned to mush. Till it felt so good he thought he was going crazy, till he couldn’t even hear how loud he was being. Just blissed out being pulled back into your cunt.
What an honor, to have such an obedient, adoring boy like him.
You let him stay like that, floaty and sweet until he fell asleep to whispered praises.
“My good boy. You did such a good job for me.”
A kiss to his forehead.
“You know I love you so much.”
Tucked under the covers.
“So good for me, honey. You're okay. I'm proud of you. You're all mine, and I'm all yours.”
You raked your nails along his back.
“Relax, It'll all be there for you tomorrow. But for right now, all you need to be is my good, sweet boy. And you are.”
You moved off the bed which concerned Art.
“Are you leaving?”
He looked like he could cry. You cradled his face.
“No baby boy, of course not. I’m only getting you some water. I’ll be right back”
You spoke to him like a child bedridden with a cold. It was clear the comedown was something intense and never experienced before. He needed you next to him right now.
“Alright lovely, I know you’re tired but have a few drinks of this for me.”
You guided the water bottle into his mouth till you were satisfied with the amount he got in his system.
“Rest now. I’ll cuddle you.”
The blonde fell asleep immediately in your embrace and you hoped it wouldn't be the last time you took his thoughts away.
#lapdog agenda#art donaldson#challengers#art donaldson fanfic#art donaldson smut#art donaldson fic#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson x you#art donaldson dumbification#sub art donaldson
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Sliding Doors
Leon Kennedy x female reader, Chris Redfield x female reader, fluff, angst
For the lovely @porcelainseashore who commission a continuation from Forever Hold Your Peace. Thank you for all your love and support ❤️
“Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony…” the minister begins, but as you stand opposite Chris – a soft, adoring smile on his face, shedding a tear when he’d saw how beautiful you looked as you walked down the aisle – you can’t help but meet the gaze of the best man’s icy blue eyes for a moment. “..speak now or forever hold your peace.”
Leon clenches his fists.
“No.”
It’s a muttered plea more than a loud proclamation, but it’s audible enough for several pairs of eyes to focus on him due to the interruption.
The minister smiles, awkwardly, his eyes flitting between the members of the bridal party to gauge whether it was a joke – heaven knows he’s seen them fall flat before - before he clears his throat to proceed with the vows.
“Christo-”
“No.” It’s louder that time, Leon’s voice echoed around the room like a gunshot.
“Not the time for your jokes, bud.” Chris forces out a laugh as he replies over his shoulder, before turning back to you and offering a reassuring smile.
“It’s not a joke.” You wish the ground would swallow you up as Leon remains focused on you. “Don’t marry him.”
“Leon”, Claire hisses from over your shoulder, looking furious. “What are you doing?”
He ignores her. “I’m not saying marry me, but just… Don’t marry him.”
You shake your head, subtly, eyes wide in fear as the small congregation of friends and family begin to whisper amongst themselves.
This isn’t happening. It can’t be happening.
Chris’ fists are now clenched as he turns to his supposed best man, his brow furrowed as he tries to analyze the situation, his mind automatically heading into work mode – assess, strategize, action.
“What is this?”
Leon ignores Chris too, instead taking a step forward. “I’m different now – I swear. Just give me another chance. The connection’s still there – I know you felt it when we kissed-”
“Kissed?!” Chris and Claire reiterate almost in unison, and someone in the seated crowd gasps.
“What kiss?” Chris presses, turning back to look at you in disbelief. “Honey, what’s he talking about?”
Your mouth feels drier than it ever has, your tongue heavy in your mouth. “I didn’t, Chris… I… I mean, he…”
“I kissed her, Redfield.” Leon cuts across, rolling back his shoulders as he sidesteps in front of the groom, blocking you from his sight. “When you asked me to deliver that gift earlier, I kissed her. Can’t say it was the first time either.”
You should say something more coherent than your mumbled excuses – explain what Leon means by that because it definitely makes it sound worse than it is - but your heart is pounding and you’re beginning to feel a little faint.
This isn’t real, it’s a bad dream and you’re going to wake up in the hotel suite, Claire knocking on the door, hair stylist and make-up artist in tow to help you start getting ready.
The minister tries to soothe tensions instead. “Perhaps we should take this somewhere more private to-“
“What the fuck does that mean, Kennedy?”
“We were a thing-”
“We were not a thing, Leon,” you shift a little to the side then so you can see Chris, finding your voice at last.
You wished you hadn’t moved as hurt flashes across Chris’ face - sweet, loyal, dependable Chris.
Chris, who never fails to set up coffee machine timer to greet you with a freshly brewed batch when he has to leave early, who would always find some sort of way to communicate with you even if he was halfway across the world, who never shied away from holding your hand or kissing you in public, who told his closest colleagues about you openly, who didn’t treat you like a dirty little secret.
Chris, who, despite how much you tried to convince yourself, has never made you feel quite like Leon did.
“-before you two started dating.” Leon presses on, ignoring how the taller man’s shoulders grow more and more tense, seething breaths now coming out of his nose. “I treated her rotten, drove her into your arms and regretted it every minute since. I’m not gonna let her make the biggest mis-”
Chris’ fist meets Leon’s face – it’s so swift that the whole room takes a moment to realise what’s happened. The agent is surprisingly not knocked off his feet by the blow but stumbles back and you automatically reach out a hand to steady him by his arm, unaware of how it looks in that moment.
Leon wipes a trickle of blood from his mouth, looking smug as he relishes your touch. “Not gonna say I didn’t deserve that.”
Chris is staring at your hand on Leon’s arm and you pull it back when you see the hurt in his eyes, wringing your hands together as you begin to plead.
“I’m sorry, Chris. I should’ve told you, but it… It was nothing. A blip. It wasn’t anything like what we have. He kissed me earlier and I pushed him away and I told him. Please.”
“Is this why you were crying?” Claire demands, stepping over to stand besides Chris in an act of support. Her shoulders are high, ready to protect her brother at all costs. “In the suite earlier, when Leon was there.”
“N-no,” you shake your head furiously, but your voice isn’t convincing enough to your own ears, especially in comparison to Leon’s firm “Yes.”
You’re hot, the wedding gown of your dreams feeling stifling, too tight, the veil tugging heavily at your scalp.
“Chris, please, can we go talk somewhere?” You step forward, past Leon, hand outstretched to take your fiance’s. You want to take him away from all the prying eyes, the disbelieving murmurs, away from all the tension, have a discussion with clear heads, but he pulls his hand from out of your reach.
“Do you love him?” Chris’ voice is so flat it makes you feel sick. It’s the same tone he has when he comes back from missions where he’s lost comrades, the one that you can slowly break him out of after days of soft words and touches.
You never wanted to be the cause of it.
“It’s been years.” There’s the crack in your voice again, your next words a little too rushed. “I love you. You’re sweet. You’re so sweet, kind and loyal.”
Everything Leon wasn’t.
“I said, do you love Leon?”
You stare deep into Chris’ eyes then, his lips pressed together in a thin line. There had been something when Leon had kissed you less than an hour ago, how easily you’d almost fallen back into threading your fingers into his hair to deepen it, how your heartbeat had remained elevated since.
Leon is a wildcard and Chris is steady, dependable – everything you should want.
Everything you’ve been convincing yourself you did want.
One more look into your fiancee’s eyes is all it takes. He doesn’t deserve this but he does deserve the truth.
You take a shuddering breath and nod.
“I’m sorry, I-“
“Right.” Chris nods, as casual as if he’s just been given his latest set of orders. He turns on his heels and heads back down the aisle – the aisle he was meant to be walking down with you on his arm as his new wife – with his head and shoulders held high, Claire hurrying after him, dropping your bouquet as she does.
As you stare at his retreating form, Leon slips his hand into yours and squeezes.
And, as tears begin to stream down your face again, you squeeze back.
--
He drove you away from the venue on his bike, your cheek pressed firmly against his back and your veil floating behind you in the wind.
Cars honked in celebration around you, all under the impression that a husband was taking his new wife for a celebratory ride, not that the best man had just absconded with the bride.
He takes you back to his apartment, a thing he’d never done when you were ‘together’, but it made sense now, considering. You lived with Chris, a two-storey on a cul-de-sac, white picket fence – you could hardly go back there today.
Or ever.
“What can I do, sweetheart?” Leon asks, cautiously, as you both stand in his living room a few feet apart. It feels more like a show-home than your place – no personal affects, the coffee table empty besides a remote control for the widescreen.
“I… I need to get out of this.” You huff, ripping the veil from your scalp at last, the pins holding it in place scattering over his polished wooden floor and you fling it down on the sofa. You know you won’t be able to undo your dress yourself so you turn, flustered. “I can’t…”
“I’ve got you, it’s okay.” Leon soothes, closing the gap between the two of you and deftly unpicking the laces of the corset with nimble fingers. You feel it loosen immediately, but it doesn’t ease the suffocating feeling in your chest.
“There.” The dress drops a little and you quickly wrap your arms around yourself, keeping it up, before Leon steps around the coffee table, heading towards the hallway. “I’ll… I’ll grab you a change of clothes.”
Your clothes, right. They’re all at yours.
Oh, God, how are you going to get them?
How could you ever face Chris again?
You remain standing in the living room, forcing yourself to breathe deeply. You can hear Leon opening and closing some drawers, obviously looking for something that you can wear. He emerges a few moments later, holding a grey sweatshirt and some black gym shorts.
“I think these will work. Shorts have a drawstring, so…”
“Where’s the bathroom?”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry, down the hall, second door on your left.”
You take the clothes from his hand, avoiding eye contact and head to change. Your hands are shaking as you turn the lock, quickly shedding your dress and wedding night lingerie – not how you thought you’d be removing it tonight, that’s for sure, but you can’t bear to keep any of it on. Finally, you slide a lacey white garter off your thigh and bundle everything together into a ball, placing it on top of one of the two laundry baskets in the corner, noting he separates lights and darks.
You pull the sweatshirt over your head – it feels odd, oversized but not as oversized as any of the things you’d stolen from Chris’ dresser – before putting on the shorts and double-knotting the cord to keep them up.
You wet your face in the sink next, washing off your make-up as best you can. A glint catches your eye from your right hand – your engagement ring moved over in preparation for the wedding ring being slipped on.
You’ll need to return it.
Carefully, you pull it off your finger and place it on the sink, undoing the latch on the necklace Chris had sent Leon up with – does he regret that now? Is he sat somewhere with a whiskey, mulling over what would be different if he hadn’t sent his best man to the bridal suite? - and thread it through the chain, fastening it back around your neck and tucking it under the sweatshirt, out of sight.
You don’t want to wear it, really, the idea making you feel sick being adorned with gifts that Chris had picked out lovingly - but you don’t want to lose it somewhere in Leon’s apartment either.
Leon is still standing in the same place in the living room when you emerge, the only difference being his tie is now off and thrown over the coffee table, one hand in his pocket. You stop a couple of feet in front of him and stare, trying to read his gaze.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t set out to say those things, baby. I just-” You throw yourself into his arms, sobbing – for what’s just occurred and for how horrible you feel when being in his arms immediately just feels so right, more natural than being wrapped in Chris’ ever did.
Leon presses kisses to your crown, pulls you back and down onto the sofa and hooks your legs up into his lap, rocking you back and forth like a child who needs consoling.
“It’s all right. It’ll be okay. And I’ll be better, I promise.” He murmurs against your ear when your sobs begin to slow, his white shirt significantly damp with your abundance of tears. “I’m not fucking up again. Not after this, baby. I’ll spend every damn day showing you how serious I am about you, about us.”
--
Chris remains a gentleman, despite everything. The first you hear from him is one week after the wedding, via email, letting you know that he’ll be out of the house for a few days if you’d like to go in and collect your things. He’s going to put the house on the market after, said he’s taken a new position within the BSAA and will be permanently relocating to the European branch, so doesn’t see the point in keeping it empty. It’s not surprising, really, Chris has been headhunted a couple of times since his work in Europe, but he’d always wanted to remain on American soil, with you.
He adds he’s going to sell the furniture as a job lot too, so to take anything you like and then leave the keys under the doormat once you’re done.
He signs it best regards.
He’s too nice for what you’ve done to him.
A fact Claire had reminded you of daily – scornful text messages and voicemails telling you exactly what she thinks of you and Leon. They cease only after Chris can be heard in the background of the final voicemail, telling her to stop.
You’re living in a short-term rental when you pick up your things – not that you would’ve taken any of the furniture anyway. You’d stayed at Leon’s for a week after, sleeping in his spare room. He’d returned to the venue and picked up the things you’d left in the bridal suite as you lay in bed, festering in the horrible combination of guilt and relief of what had transpired.
Leon wanted you to move in permanently, but you told him it was too much, too soon. You made demands this time, wanting to take it slow but also testing the limits of how much he had meant it when he said things would be different, that he would be different.
You were selfish with them at first – he had to date you properly, take you out for lunch, coffee and dinner dates, walks around the park, weekend trips away and trips to the movies, hold your hand and kiss you in public.
You told him you wanted him to try therapy, to learn how to communicate.
And, to his credit, he does it all. He hates the first three therapists, only managing a session or two with them, but he keeps going until he clicks with the fourth and sees them every Wednesday – always reschedules for another day of the week if he’s away with work.
You’re never sure how he’s going to be immediately after – sometimes he emerges with the weight of the world resting even more heavily on his shoulders, other times he seems to have a pep in his step until, gradually, he comes out lighter and lighter every time.
He tells you he loves you when you make a dumb joke over dinner in a cheesy diner – so loud in his proclamation that the waitress gives the two of you a slice of pie each on the house, extra whipped cream.
There are things he’s still uncomfortable with but he’s better at communicating, each of you compromising as you settle into the relationship.
“Do you want to get married?” He murmurs in your ear one night a year and a half later, spooning you against his bare chest. The bedroom has a pile of moving boxes stacked in the corner - your first night in your new, shared apartment.
“Honestly? I don’t know,” you take one of his hands, fidget with his fingers. “What about you?”
“I don’t mind either way,” he grasps hold of your wrist and rolls you over in a smooth notion. “Whatever you want.”
“Uh-uh,” you correct, “we’re partners, remember?”
“Right. Whatever we want.” He kisses you then, slowly, as if he has the whole night to while away. He’s never in a rush when it comes to you, not any more.
“I love you.” You mumble between kisses, feeling him smile as he captures your lips once again.
“I love you, sweetheart. Always and forever.”
--
“Leon?”
“Huh?” He’s spaced out – Chris, Claire, the minister and you all staring expectantly at him.
“Got the rings, man?” Chris is holding out his hand, an amused smile on his face.
Right, the rings.
Best man hands over the rings.
He stuffs his hand into his trouser pocket and tugs out the little mesh bag they’d been placed in. He can’t imagine Chris wearing his for long, not with his line of work. Leon wouldn’t either, truth be told. He’d get a nice chain, maybe, have it hang over his heart.
Chris takes the bag with a nod of thanks and empties them out onto the minister’s book, big fingers fumbling to pick up the ring he’s about to slide on your finger, following the minister’s prompts in reciting his vows.
Leon stares at you as you look up into Chris’ eyes, smiling so much your cheeks must hurt, and tries not to think about how when you had looked at him like that, he’d left you the next morning with nothing but a note on the pillow.
--
“Now, ladies and gentlemen, if you would please be upstanding for the new Mr and Mrs Redfield!”
Leon hadn’t realized he’d be sat next to you at the top table. He hadn’t thought much about the reception at all, besides the speech Chris asked him to make.
But, fuck, you look so happy walking in with him that it takes his breath away. Your fingers interlaced, surrounded by cheers and applause. Redfield can’t help himself – Leon wouldn’t either - swings you around and dips you into a kiss in the middle of the floor. You look embarrassed when he releases you, but there’s a giddy smile on your face too.
He couldn’t give you that. He couldn’t. He’s not sure Redfield can either – setting you up for disappointment and heartbreak.
He doesn’t know why anyone else is seated at the top table – you and Chris only have eyes for each other throughout dinner. He drinks more than he eats, wondering if he can make Redfield regret putting on an open bar.
“Now, for the best man – Leon Kennedy.”
He pulls the notecard out of his jacket pocket as he stands - he’d started writing it so many times but never got particularly far. That morning, he’d searched generic best man speech on his phone and jotted it down.
“You’ll be pleased to know that I’ll be keeping this short and sweet – two words you probably wouldn’t use to describe Chris Redfield.” He pauses, polite laughter rippling through the crowd.
“There’s two things being celebrated here today. The first being that it’s finally been acknowledged that I am, in fact, the best man between us.” He pauses again, taking a pre-emptive swig of his drink to help dull the ache of the words to come.
“Secondly, of course, the union of this… wonderful couple. May your lives be filled with love and happiness. To the bride and groom!”
The guests raise their glass in unison and Leon sits down heavily in his seat, downing the rest of his drink as Chris stands up, thanking Leon for his speech and leading an applause. He picks up a champagne flute and looks down at you, adoringly.
“Truthfully, I’m wondering if I should’ve gone first, because mine’s even shorter than Leon’s. Thank you all so much for coming here today to celebrate with us. All that’s really left to say is, I love you, darling – always and forever.”
Chris bends down to steal another kiss and the guests applaud and cheer once again – Leon swears it’s louder than what his speech received.
“I love you so much, Chris.”
Leon wishes it had been louder still to drown out your response.
--
“You ready?” Chris murmurs into your ear before pressing a kiss against your jaw. You didn’t think it was possible – you’d never seen Chris drunk ever – but it seems the numerous glasses of champagne have gotten to his head. He’ll deny it in the morning if you accuse him, tell you it wasn’t the alcohol which was making him act that way, no, it was you that was making him love-drunk, before capturing your lips in a kiss.
You nod and squirm with a giggle, his stubble tickling your neck. You had sat down at the table for a breather, after completing a round of the tables to greet your guests as well as a couple of dances with your friends. You haven’t seen Leon since dinner and, truthfully, he’s the furthest thing from your mind ever since Chris slipped the ring on your finger. Your new husband takes your hand and grabs a chair with the other, leading you to the middle of the small dance floor and places it down. Once he’s happy, he lifts his other arm above his head to twirl you into position and down upon the chair.
You feel giddy – from love, champagne, happiness – as Chris kneels before you and gently begins to lift the hem of your dress up and over your knees.
Someone in the crowd wolf-whistles, probably one of the squad, and Chris turns in the direction to mockingly glare. He then resumes his work of pulling your dress up a little more, cautiously, until he found what he was looking for – a lacey white garter on your thigh.
Chris asking if you wanted to do the garter toss part of the ceremony had come completely out of left-field, so much so you were thankful you hadn’t taken a sip of your drink before he’d asked, lest you had spit it out in his face. He scratched the back of his head, gave you a dopey-looking smile that made you want to cuddle him rotten and said he wanted to do things by the book. He wanted the tradition, some sense of normalcy in his life with the whole white wedding, and having no strong feelings about it either way you’d agreed.
Now, though, as he looks up at you with that up-to-no-good smirk, you wonder if you should’ve said no.
“Hands or teeth?”
“Huh?”
He lightly pings the garter on your thigh. “Shall I remove it with my hands or teeth, darling?”
“Chris!” You laugh, sure he was joking.
He tilts his head. “Uh-uh. Pick, please.”
“Fine.” You smirk back, buoyed in confidence by the champagne. “Teeth.”
“Excellent choice, Mrs Redfield.” He plants a hand on your other leg to steady himself, before lowering his head and you feel his teeth graze your thigh as he nips the lacey material and begins to tug it down, all to the hooting and hollering of the assembled crowd.
Leon takes a long sip of whiskey as he watches from the corner. He would’ve used his teeth to remove it too, but only in the sanctity of the bedroom later that night.
It flies over the heads and outstretched arms of the bachelors – Chris always did have a good throw - and eventually smacks Leon right in the chest.
“All right, Kennedy!” Somebody cheers, and before he can really think about it, he bends down and snatches up the garter, aware that the eyes of the room are on him. He holds it aloft in a mock display of triumph.
He looks for you then, wondering what you’ll think – a sign from the universe that you’ve made a mistake – but your eyes are fixed on Chris, cupping his face in your palms as he remains knelt in front of you, pressing a long kiss to his lips.
Leon stuffs the garter deep in his trouser pocket.
--
Leon doesn’t see either of you for six months – thanks to a relentless run of missions, intercontinental travel and briefings all keeping his mind occupied – and it helps dull the ache in his chest too.
An email pops up in his inbox though, inviting him to the Redfield’s housewarming BBQ in a couple of weeks, but he never replies to the RSVP.
Still, he finds himself parking his bike up outside the new house – it has a white picket fence, for fuck’s sake, nestled on a quiet suburban street. To his trained eye, he can see some additional security measures, so at least Redfield hasn’t become completely complacent. The gate clicks a little louder than usual when he opens it, probably linked to some sort of surveillance system, the panes of glass in the window are clearly bullet-proof and the front door is steel, disguised to blend in with the rest of the street.
He rings the doorbell – looking direct into the pinhole camera.
Chris answers soon after, a black apron on for grilling duties over blue jeans and a white tee. He looks good, annoyingly so compared to the dark rings Leon has under his own eyes, but he’s perhaps a little softer around the edges. Leon had heard down the grapevine that Chris had taken more of a consultant type role at the BSAA, office hours, trying to move away from always having his boots on the ground – something he never thought he’d see.
“Hey! You made it. It’s great to see you, man.” Chris greets him, a genuine smile on his face. “Perfect timing – I’m just about to fire up the grill. We’re all just out in the yard.”
He steps over the threshold – his eyes immediately finding the framed wedding photo on the hall table, the one where you’d all signed the registry and the photographer had Leon stand by your side and Claire by Chris’.
He wonders if, when you look at it, you can tell his smile is fake.
He doesn’t take in much else of the house as he’s led through, instead forcing himself to take a deep breath in preparation of seeing you again. He’s tried to forget about the kiss through a string of dates from the office and one-night stands, but he still has your stolen garter tucked in the back of his bedside drawer.
It’s over, he chastises himself.
It didn’t even really begin either.
You’re facing away from him when he follows Chris through the kitchen and out onto wooden decking, a set of stairs leading down to a large rectangle of grass. There’s a good 15 or so in attendance, only a handful of people present that he recognizes, some from the wedding, all congregated in little groups, a long table set up with bowls of salad, chips, rolls, sauces and other snacks, a bucket of ice, rapidly melting in the midday sun, in which various drinks are nestled.
You’re talking to Claire and a guy he doesn’t recognize, but he has his arm draped around her shoulders. You’re dressed in a sweet floral sundress, capped sleeves, white sandals. He wants to slip in to the conversation, no fuss, no announcement, but Chris has other ideas.
“Hey, Leon’s here!”
You turn at your husband’s call, a little surprised. Chris had told you he’d invited Leon, of course, but noted that he hadn’t accepted or denied. Really, you weren’t sure if he’d show at all, given what had happened at the wedding and the fact he’d been off-grid for so long after.
Those bright blue eyes only meet yours for a moment before they trail down to your stomach, and the protective hand you’ve placed on top of it – only a recent habit since your bump had properly popped.
“Oh, yeah,” Chris chuckles, clocking on to exactly what Leon is staring at. He slaps him on the back, ushering him forward as he does. Leon wants to dig his heels in, maybe if he keeps his distance it won’t be real and only a trick of perspective, but his legs won’t co-operate.
“Sorry, should’ve said - turns out we brought more back than souvenirs from the honeymoon.”
Claire groans. “Are you going to use that line on everyone, Chris? It’s too early for you to be cracking out dad jokes.” She takes a swig of her beer, before nodding at Leon. “Hey.”
Leon nods in Claire’s direction, but his eyes are still fixed on you.
“Leon.” You smile, a little worried at how much colour has drained from the agent’s face. “We’re so glad you could make it. It’s been ages!”
“I…” He swallows, shaking his head a little as if he could shake off the feeling of disbelief. “Congratulations. On the house and the… baby.”
Redfield smirks as he steps over from Leon’s side to yours, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in close to press a kiss to your temple. “Thanks, bud. Gotta admit, I’m feeling a pretty lucky guy.”
“The luckiest.”
Chris cocks his head at the lack of sarcasm, almost put off by how genuine Leon sounded.
“Sorry, is there any more beer?” Someone he doesn’t recognize – one of yours or Chris’ other friends, maybe – interrupts.
“Of course! I’ll go get it.” You barely make it a step out of Chris’ embrace before he wraps his hand around your arm and stills you with a furrowed brow.
“Babe, we tal-“
“We talked about me carrying heavy things.” You correct with a feigned huff. “The baby will be heavier than a box of beer.”
Chris looks apologetic. “All I was gonna say is you need to be careful – don’t want you wearing yourself out and missing the party.” Leon feels a stabbing pain once again in his chest as he watches Redfield cup your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “Let’s be honest, darling, you’re usually on your second nap by this time.”
You pout, more so annoyed that Chris is right. The move, plus the second trimester had you feeling permanently fatigued. “True, but-”
“Let me go grab the beer,” Leon interrupts and Chris drops his hand from your face, as if he just realized Leon was still there. “Just tell me where.”
You frown at his offer. “You’re a guest.”
“A lousy guest - didn’t even bring a housewarming gift,” he berates himself. “Being the beer lackey can be it.”
“You didn’t need to get us anything – your company’s gift enough.” You place a hand on his arm and squeeze in reassurance - he swears his heart skips a beat. “It’s probably easier if I show you where. Come on.”
“Thanks, Leon.” Chris pats him on the back and turns to the grill, declaring it hot enough to finally start cooking.
Leon follows you, dutifully, back up the steps onto the decking, one hand poised ready to steady you if need be. You lead him towards the opposite end of the kitchen and towards the pantry, hesitating before you open the door.
“I’m sorry, if this was a shock.” You jerk your chin down at your stomach. “We were just sorta telling people as and when we saw them, rather than do any real big announcement.”
“Yet you announced the house?”
You smile, wryly. “I think Chris just wanted an excuse to buy that grill. He’s trying out lots of hobbies. I caught him looking up ride-on mowers the other night.”
“Heard he’s office-based now.” There’s a beat and it comes out before he can even think, always ready to justify his actions even when no-one’s called for it. “I couldn’t have done that for you.”
Suddenly, you’re thrown back to that hour before your wedding – something you truthfully hadn’t thought of until this moment.
“You think I asked Chris to do that? That I demanded a wedding and a house and a baby and…” Your voice cracks a little before you take a deep breath. Your emotions are high strung enough at the moment with the pregnancy and you try to compose yourself, digging your nails into your palms.
“You know what? No – I’m not going through this again. Relationships are about compromises on both sides, it’s unfortunate that’s what you still don’t seem to understand.”
You slide open the pantry door then, pointing to the back where a couple of boxes of beer are stacked, in amongst tubs of protein powder. “Just grab any of those, please. I’ll see you outside.”
Leon’s hand wraps around your wrist as you step away. It isn’t a firm grip by any means, just holding you loosely in place. “Just tell me one thing - are you happy?”
“I’m really happy, Leon.” You reply without a beat’s hesitation, because you are. “I hope one day you allow yourself to be happy too.”
He doesn’t say anything to that, only drops his grip on your wrist and turns into the pantry in the guise of retrieving the beer. It’s only when he hears you step back out onto the decking that he bends to pick up the box, half wondering if he should just quietly leave now.
No, that would only cause you grief, surely. He’s done enough of that.
After a few moments have passed, he lifts up the box and heads out, pulling the door shut to the pantry behind him. He heads back out into the yard, pausing at the top of the stairs to see you back at your husband’s side, laughing at something he’s said, looking up at him like he’s everything.
Chris wraps his arms around you, helping you up to your tip-toes so he can kiss you as passionately as he did on the wedding day, and every day since.
Claire wonders, loudly, whether your honeymoon phase will ever be over, but she’s smiling as she says it.
Leon silently carries over the box and opens it, adding a couple more cans of beer to the ice bucket before Claire hands him an open one, proposing a toast to the new house and baby Redfield.
Instead, Leon toasts to the life he could’ve had.
--
Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi
Comments and reblogs make my whole day x
#ghostdogwrites#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy fluff#leon kennedy angst#chris redfield x you#chris redfield x reader#chris redfield angst#chris redfield fluff
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the summer i turned pretty - charles leclerc & arthur leclerc
a reader x charles leclerc & arthur leclerc love triangle, pt. 2
pt. 1
warnings: none other than angst?
a/n: a million years later here is part 2 but it’s not over ladies and gentlemen! i hope it doesn’t suck lol. part 3 will come. also i’ve now added charlotte siné as the fc for practical purposes!
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Day 4
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As I opened the door, terrified at who I was going to see behind it, I met Charles’ bloodshot eyes staring daggers into mine.
“Y/N, let’s talk, please. I screwed up, but let me explain,” he quickly said before I could even mutter a word.
I was still as speechless as I had been last night. Without a word, I moved aside to let him in my room, but he shook his head and insisted on talking to me at the beach. I just obliged, trying my best to be quiet around the house so as to not wake anyone up.
As soon as we arrived on the shore, Charles invited me to sit down and I once again just obliged. My heart was pounding on my ears and I felt like it would jump out of my body at any second.
“I feel like I should start at the beginning,” Charles said, while I looked to the sea instead of looking at him.
“I’ve always loved you. There has always been something about you that comforts me and makes me happy. I just didn’t realize how deep it went until last summer, when I realized that you kissing Antoine ruined the entire season for me.”
I tried to recall any reaction from Charles when I hooked up with Antoine last year that could’ve been a sign, but I found nothing in my memories. I was too busy sulking over the fact that he didn’t and would never like me, but I had been proved wrong 365 days later. The words were in my head but they didn’t make sense. Why would Charles Leclerc like me, much less love me?
“I’ve tried to avoid it, I’ve tried to think nothing of it, I’ve tried to deny it and it’s been no use.”
The irony of me doing the same thing for years was not lost on me. How I have pined for years not realizing he spent some of that time feeling the same way was borderline funny.
“Will you please look at me?” Charles asked with a hint of desperation in his voice, making it impossible for me to deny his request even if I knew any resolve or strength I had left in me would evaporate the minute my eyes met his.
The butterflies in my stomach felt like a swarm of wasps, and I’m sure the blush in my face evidenced it. Charles’ green eyes, the object of all my hidden wishes for as long as I could recall, stared into mine looking to decipher my emotions.
I wished I could say he found nothing but love, but in between all those beautiful feelings of loving and being loved in return, I could still sense a wretched feeling of disappointment.
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” a stronger voice than expected called him out. All this time he had to know I felt the same way, but he let me believe there wasn’t a chance in hell he could care about me beyond a friendship.
“It took me too long to even understand it. Even then, I couldn’t justify changing your life on a crush, or hurt you and ruin it all. I still don’t know if I can justify it, but I know I can’t stand it anymore. I love you and I’m done pretending I don’t, or that you don’t love me too.”
When I searched into his eyes, all I could find was sincerity. And it was enough for me to jump into the deep end, leaning closer to him in hopes he would initiate the kiss I’ve desperately wanted for far too much time.
He granted my wishes, placing both of his hands on my neck to connect our lips. It was just like I imagined it.
Soft, passionate, unrushed, warm. I felt the fireworks that everyone speaks of go off in my head, and I just knew Charles felt them too.
As we pulled away to breathe, struggling to even think of ever separating me from him ever again, Charles smiled brightly.
“Can you say you love me too, mon cœur?” he asked so prettily I could coo at him.
“I love you, Charles Leclerc,” I obliged, because how could I say no to him?
“And I love you, Y/N L/N,” he replied, smiling even bigger, and kissing me even better.
Our bubble of a newfound love lasted a while, but was eventually meant to break when I received a text from Arthur.
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The conversation about Arthur with Charles wasn’t the hard part at all. The older brother brushed the kiss off as a drunken mistake, and was a little too confident on who my choice would be.
The conversation about Charles with Arthur would be the hard part, and I didn’t even have time to settle down in my bed after the rollercoaster of emotions I had just gone through when Arthur barged in.
He looked happy to see me, and it broke my heart.
In trying to find the words to say I couldn’t be with him, and before I could mutter them, he hugged me.
“I’ve been trying to find you all this time, where have you been chérie?” Arthur smiled, but it quickly faded once he realized my energy wasn’t the same.
“Arthur…”
“Chérie, don’t say it was a mistake because you know it wasn’t. Fuck my brother, you know that this is right.”
“I’m so sorry…” I began and pushed back further away from him, as if my next words would hurt him any less because of it. “Charles and I spoke, and we have realized our feelings for each other…” I looked down, cowardly, unable to face his reaction. “You know I’ve loved him forever and I am just so sorry for leading you on.”
Like it always happened between us, I didn’t have to look at him, and he didn’t have to say anything. I just knew that we were done.
He stormed out of the room.
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charles_leclerc added to his stories
y/ninstagram added to her close friends stories
arthur_leclerc added to his stories
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#f1#f1 au#formula 1#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 smau#f1 social media au#f1 fake texts#charles leclerc texts#charles leclerc smau#charles leclerc au#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc fanfic#arthur leclerc smau#arthur leclerc au#arthur leclerc fanfic#arthur leclerc x reader#arthur leclerc
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Blast from the past
Some of my older stories have been banned permanently from Tumblr due to some NSFW images. So every once and awhile I will repost them with new SFW images (look for the #cc unbanned tag). This is one such story. Enjoy!
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"Hey Shaun what is this stuff?" Chloe called out to her husband while sifting through the few remaining undamaged boxes from their flooded basement. She found one marked 'Shaun and Jordan'. Shaun hurried over but when he saw the box he seemed to go pale.
"Oh. That's stuff from my last relationship, way before I met you." He said slightly guilty as Chloe opened the box and started sifting through.
"Leather jackets? Switchblades? Cigarettes? Keys to a motorcycle? And what's this?" Chloe said pulling out a stack of pictures with the top one being one of a young rebellious couple making out next to a motorbike. Her leg was wrapped around him and his hands were all over her. Chloe realised that this was Shaun and Jordan. She was taken aback.
"Wow Shaun I never knew you had a biker phase." She said half teasing half curious.
"As I said it was a long time ago, I'm not proud of that period of my life. I stole, fought, commited such heinous criminal acts. But that’s not me anymore." He said. Chloe moved onto the next picture which was of Jordan posing suggestively on a bike.
"And what about her? What about Jordan?" Chloe asked.
"She... She died in a motorbike accident. After she died it was like I woke up to all the stupid shit I had been doing with my life. I packed up all our belongings into that box and forgot about it. It's not who I am anymore, don't worry. I should go into town and get some supplies to clean this all up, I'll be back in a bit." Shaun said kissing his wife goodbye.
Chloe, however, had flipped to another picture of just Shaun on a bike and she was fixated. He seemed so in charge, so manly, so tough in the past, it was kind of turning Chloe on. Sure she loved Shaun now but sometimes she wished there was a bit more fire to him.
Chloe flipped back to another picture of Jordan. She was stunning and had the tightest body Chloe had ever seen. Her eyes were so piercing that Chloe felt intimidated just looking at her. Chloe felt light headed as she heard a voice drift into her mind. "He could be that man again." It said.
"But how? How can he get his fire back?" She said in a dreamlike daze.
"He needs his bad bitch girlfriend by his side. You need to become the new me, the new Jordan. I'll help you bring the bad boy Shaun out." Jordan seemed to say from the picture. In her daze it made perfect sense to Chloe.
"Yessss of course, he needs to remember who he was." She said in a trance.
"You want to be me, you've always wanted to be a bad ass bitch and now here's your chance. I'll warp your body and mind into Shaun's perfect little slut then he'll be yours forever and together you will be the baddest couple around. Doesn't that sound good?" Jordan purred.
"Mmmmm fuck yes, Chloe is such a pathetic loser. I want to be Jordan." Chloe moaned in pleasure as she felt her pussy get slick.
"Goooood. Now if that is to happen then you'll need to look the part. Don't worry, this will feel amazing." Jordan whispered as Chloe felt her tits expand out of her sweater. She moaned in pleasure as she groped her new breasts in pleasure.
"YESSSSS fuck yes I want more! Make them bigger!" Chloe demanded.
"Now you're acting like me." Jordan said cackling to herself as Chloe fell more under her corruption. Her tits swelled even bigger and Chloe ripped off her top to better appreciate her new weapons.
"If these don't light a fire under Shaun nothing will. I'm such a hot bitch now." Chloe said vainly touching herself all over.
"You're nearly there. Now pick out a tight outfit from the box to really become me." Jordan enticed her but Chloe was already a willing victim. She pulled out a form fitting leather corset and loved how it barely contained her new tits. The more she admired herself the more of Jordan slipped into her.
"Mmmmm soon I'll have my alpha male back and then we'll show this town a thing or two about fear." She said cackling to herself. Chloe was almost completely taken over by Jordan but there was still an annoying little piece of goodness residing in her. Jordan knew just how to get rid of it and fully take over.
"That's it my little pet, now just one last step and we will be one. You'll be a true evil bitch like me, maybe even badder. Go to the garage, I have a gift waiting." Jordan said and Chloe felt a shiver of anticipation pass through her like it was Christmas. A smile curled up her lips as she entered the garage and saw waiting for her was a motorbike. Not just any bike though.
"Your bike." Chloe said running a hand across the sleek metal becoming more and more turned on as she did.
"You mean your bike? Don't you want to be Jordan? Don't you want to be me?" Jordan whispered.
"More than anything." Chloe said her voice dripping with lust.
"Then climb on and start her up." Jordan said and Chloe stalked over obediently. She threw her leg over the powerful machine and instantly felt at home. She turned the key and started it up. The vibration from the engine made her wet as she straddled tight to the machine.
"Doesn't that feel good? Only thing that beats it is a good hard fucking. Now Rev it up. The more you do the more of me you let in." Jordan said seductively. Chloe revved it again and again each time getting closer and closer to orgasming. She moaned as she felt Jordan's soul begin to merge with her own with each Rev.
"Oh fuck FUCK! Yessss I feel like such an evil bitch. I feel like a hot bad ass slut! I feel like Jordan! NO! I AM JORDAN!" She screamed as their two personalities crashed into one another. At once Chloe had new memories flood her mind. She was Jordan now and it felt perfect. She ran her sharp nails down her transformed body in ecstasy.
"Shaun has been missing a real woman's touch and a real woman's pussy but once he gets a look at me he'll forget all about weak little Chloe." She said tieing her hair up into a mohawk. She loved how it looked. It made her look like a woman not to be messed with. Just then she heard a car pull up outside.
"Hmmmm speak of my devil. Time to get him playing on the dark side again." She said with a wicked smile. She heard him go into the basement with the supplies he just bought and she followed patiently after him. Her high heels clacked loudly on the metal stairs she descended causing Shaun to turn around.
"Chloe? Is that you?" He said certain it was but began doubting himself the more he looked at her.
"Try again lover." She said in a breathy voice and tone he did not recognize her having before. It was like she acting like...
"Jordan? No this can't be real." He said backing away.
"What's the matter baby? You look like you've seen a ghost." She said smiling knowingly while approaching him
"What have you done with Chloe?" He said unable to take his eyes off her body while he continued to back away.
"Me and Chloe had a little talk and decided it was in everyone's best interest if you got a little of your fire back, a little of your passion. That's why I'm here baby, you need your evil muse." She said eyeing him sexily and hungrily.
"No I want Chloe back, I'm not that man anymore I'm a better man. I'm a good man!" He said as she backed him into a corner.
"A good man maybe? But a better man? Not even close." She said and then pounced on him locking her lips on his. He fought at first against her soft warm lips but the more they continued the more he lost himself to her. He was transported back to when he was young and carefree, when he only gave a fuck about one person. After about a minute he was pushing her against the wall and moved from kissing her lips to her neck.
"Oh you fucking nasty slut I've missed you. And I've especially missed this tight little thing." He said as he stroked her pussy.
"There's my man." Jordan said while helping him take off his pants. She undid his belt and his pants careened to the floor.
"Mmmmm nice to see somethings haven't changed." She said licking her lips as she gazed at his huge member.
Original note count before ban: 285
#f2f#corruption#bitchification#magic#evil bitch#corrupted clothing#evil couple#corrupted couple#cc unbanned
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crying is crucial // papa emeritus iv x gn!reader
summary: after trying to keep your emotions under control, you finally break down. copia finds you & tries to comfort you in your pain.
tags/details: sfw. 960 words. angst & emotional hurt/comfort, reader is depressed - their past hurt is alluded to but not detailed. it's basically just copia being a soft, loving angel & knowing exactly what to say.
full transparency - i wrote this during a recent low, after a conversation with a friend, as an attempt to express what i wish someone (namely copia) would say to me in a moment like this. hopefully it resonates in some way & brings some comfort if you need it 🖤
dedicated to sweetest one @conjuring-ghouls for being my ✨ test reader ✨ and really encouraging me. thank you for talking me out of my comfort zone, friend.
a big thank you to @gothdaddyissues for the dividers & to @foxybouquet whose brilliant italian masterlist is incredibly informative & has taught me so many precious new words.
You hadn't cried like this in a long time.
It wasn't unusual for you to feel down. Depression was something you'd lived with for as long as you could remember, but for the most part you managed to keep it at arm's length and not let it rule your life.
Today, though... Today was different.
You don't know what triggered it exactly. All you know is that since you woke up this morning, you had been haunted by that familiar lump in your throat, that burning sensation behind your eyes, the telltale signs of lingering sadness ready to spill over, and just tried to stave it off long enough to get through the day. Until, curled in a ball on your bed that night, you let it happen. You let the sobs come and the tears fall, soaking the side of your face and the pillow underneath you.
And that's how he finds you.
"Darling," you hear Copia call from the hallway, "Where are you amo-"
Shit. You hadn't heard him come in.
He knew you struggled, he knew about the anxiety and the sadness that lived somewhere within you, but he'd never witnessed you in this state. And while everything in you is screaming to not let him see you so broken... you can't move. The sadness weighs you down like an anvil in your chest and you remain where you are, pulling your legs in tighter to yourself as if to become smaller. To disappear.
"Amore?" he says quietly as he steps into the room, softly gasping when he spots you, your body wracked by sobs. He's quickly at your side, trying to disguise the panic in his voice as he asks, "What is it?"
You can only sniffle in response. Your words evading you.
"Oh, amore..." he whispers. You feel his weight shift on the bed as he lays down beside you, brushing your hair from your face and gently encouraging you to look at him. "Please... Talk to me."
You take his gloved hand and hold it against your cheek, still silent, just focusing on the feeling of him while you gather yourself. You can't quite manage to look at him yet, but after a few quiet moments you speak.
"I've just been thinking about how... hard it's all been..." you tell him, your voice slightly hoarse.
"How hard what has been, tesoro?" Copia softly encourages, stroking your tear-stained cheek with his thumb.
"My... life," you say between shallow breaths. "Sometimes... sometimes I wonder why... why all these bad things have... happened and I just..."
Oh no. It's happening. What was left of any kind of composure is gone. Your chest heaves and you begin to choke on your sobs as you try to explain yourself.
"It feels like i-it should be... easy by n-ow. People tell me I'm so strong and... I a-am but... I don't want to... h-have to be... all the ti-ime..."
Copia just listens, offering a gentle shhhh when your tears overcome your words again, pulling your body closer to his and laying your head on his chest. You stay like that for a little while, with him gently stroking your face, your arms, your hair, as you try to follow the soft pattern of his breathing to calm your own.
"We all need to cry sometimes, amore mio," he offers gently, breaking the silence. "It's... You see, cuoricino, I could sit here for hours and tell you how strong you are, how capable and bright you are. I could tell you over and over again how well you're doing, or how I admire you... and all of these things are true, sì? But, sometimes..." he pauses, choosing his words carefully. "Sometimes what you really need to hear is, 'That's right. Those things weren't fair, and you are allowed to cry about it'. In fact, you need to cry about it. È cruciale!" he states, the sing-song inflection in his final word breaking through the fog and making you giggle.
But then you really take his words in, overwhelmed by the warmth with which he speaks to you and, as hard as you try to keep it together, you can't help but break down again.
With this Copia sits up slightly, and wordlessly guides your legs over his so he can cradle you properly. He feels your pain so acutely that it makes his heart ache, but he knows he needs to be steady for you right now.
"I'm here," he tells you, his voice shaking slightly, immediately betraying his intended steadiness. "I've got you... This is okay. You're okay... You're okay," he whispers, rocking you gently. "You are strong, amore. Of course you are strong... But you don't need to think about that right now. All you need to do is sit here with me, and let yourself feel what you feel."
So you do. Safe in the arms of your Papa, you let yourself feel. When another wave of sobs overwhelms you, Copia just holds you tighter and continues to rock you against his body. The voice in the back of your mind telling you that you don't deserve this love threatens to rear its ugly head but right now you're too far away to hear it. Not even the loudest, ugliest corners of your insecurity are a match for the peace you feel with him.
You're not sure how long you're there for, but Copia never stops holding you. The physical crash after such an intensely emotional episode hits you hard and you feel your body becoming heavier, imploring yourself to just go to sleep and draw a line under this day. Just as you are drifting off, you hear him quietly repeat himself.
"I've got you. You're okay."
#1 hour later: editing bc i messed up on ao3 and got the word count wrong :')#copia x reader#papa emeritus iv x reader#the band ghost#the band ghost fanfiction#fuck ok#DID IT#v nervous because i haven't posted any writing in YEARS#i used to post [redacted] ~oneshots~ all the time back in the day#alas i am now an Overthinker™#impulsively posted it on ao3 before i had the chance to chicken out#but that was enough putting myself out there for one week#(ao3 linked in title)#papa emeritus iv#copia
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New Arrangements
Word Count: 5.4k
Pairing: fem!reader x tech and crosshair, light Tech nods
Warnings: NSFW receiving oral, piv, dp, all that good jazz
Summary: Tech thinks of a different way to please you, as long as Crosshair is up for it.
This was a request a WHILE ago (ya girl is a slow, anxious writer). And it's been rotting my brain. Working on Part 2 of Two Faces too
“You worry too much.” Crosshair snickered into your ear. You shoved him off with a hard elbow. His voice, that close, sent a rush of irritation and something more exhilarating through your veins.
He chuckled, not deterred, and gripped your chin, playfully tilting your head from side to side. “Keep making that face, and you’ll age faster than us.”
You pushed his hand off, “And you say Wrecker needs to grow up.”
Crosshair let out a low, amused snort. His demeanor was always a blend of mockery and challenge, yet you had learned to navigate these waters.
Meanwhile, Tech observed the interaction from across the campfire. The three of you were on duty, guarding the camp while Wrecker, Echo, and Hunter were away. Your constant inquiries about their safety had invited Crosshair’s teasing, yet Tech appreciated how seamlessly you meshed with his squad. The Jedi Council had assigned you to Clone Force 99 abruptly, a move that often led to friction in established teams. However, whether due to your trained Jedi patience or simply fortune, you had adapted well.
The longer you worked with them, the more comfortable you became. It wasn’t a word Tech would use but, in reality, you were getting attached.
That is, enough that you were able to coax out Crosshair’s more gentle side - if you could call it that. He interacted with you with a brusque familiarity he reserved for his brothers: never overtly kind, but his jabs lacked real malice. It always piqued Tech’s interest. Lightening Crosshair’s often grim demeanor was no minor achievement, and Tech found this development enjoyable.
Anything that brought light to Crosshair’s attitude was a rare feat and a welcome one.
It had taken longer than with Crosshair, but you eventually won over Tech’s tolerance as well. As Tech generally had the more focused tasks, the two of you were paired together often. Your role as a Jedi made it easy to guard him while he was engrossed in his work.
Your time paired together allowed you ample time to listen to his rambling, ranting, and info dumping. A habit you initially deemed mind numbing, yet these moments quickly became your favorite parts of the day. Tech, often engaged in some task at hand, grew to find your presence calming as well.
It seemed that Tech, in his own measured way, cherished your attentiveness. You relished you time with you and he you. Oh, he relished you thoroughly and every single chance he could.
Crosshair pulled on a strand of your hair, “I need to do a perimeter sweep. Keep your senses extended and comm me if you hear anything.” Tech didn’t miss the little flush his brother’s teasing brought you. Crosshair’s task was one that gave you Tech a slim window of opportunity.
Not long after Crosshair departed, you were splayed out on a cot in the tent with Tech between your legs.
“You enjoy it when I speak to you.” Tech said so plainly, as if he wasn’t squeezing three fingers inside you. He pushed them in deep, lowering his mouth to your clit as you whined back at him. He sucked on your bud, licking a few light circles around it, and felt you clamp down around him. Raising himself so that it was only his lips brushing you, he said, “Not being able to please you and speak to you is not the most ideal.”
He wanted to give you so much more, he wanted to push you farther every time. Singing he wished he had a second pair of hands for.
And a thought occurred to him.
“Tech,” his name was a breathy moan. You squirmed on his fingers, trying to catch his lips on your clit again. “Your voice alone can finish me. Please.” Tech didn’t miss the desperation in your pleaing.
He kept working his fingers into you, further angling his head to watch your expression. The times he spent with you were becoming a game of strategy to him. One that he recorded and re-lived, as often as his little free time allowed.
“And what is it you want to hear?” He swept a thumb over your clit, still aching for him, and sent an arch through your back.
Knowing he was in the midst of studying you, you threw your arms over your face to deprive him. If you were desperate and wanting, so should he be. “Read me binary code for Force sake. Anything.”
Tech thought he heard frustration in your voice, an unideal outcome considering his intentions. He unhooked the leg you had saddled over his shoulder and settled it beside his hip as he crawled over top of you. He gently moved your arms from your face and repositioned them above your head. Lining himself up with your entrance, he lowered his mouth to your ear. “Right now, I think I’d rather hear what you have to say.” Not making you ache another second, he easily slid inside of you.
It was a quick affair given the high risk of discovery. Tech completely worked you over just by whispering simple observations to you. Things like how you moved, looked, and felt around him. He took you right up to the edge of release, but cut you short. He was throbbing inside you, just as close to his orgasm, when he pulled out.
Typically, Tech never left you wanting or waiting. He took pride in timing himself in getting you off. This time, if he wanted his idea to succeed, he needed you wanting more.
He grunted, struggling for composure. “Crosshair will be back soon. We should continue later.”
For a moment, you thought you might cry. You were wound so tight the ache was painful. Panting and foggy brained you just nodded along. Clearing your voice you said, “I didn’t know you were so cruel.”
He sat back on his knees, raked his eyes over your body once more, and tapped his goggles to end his recording. “Trust me,” Tech said, extending his hand. “It will be worth the wait.”
Afterwards, while the two of you composed yourselves, Tech gave you a sideways glance.
“Do you?” Tech queried.
“Do I what?” You responded without looking.
“Do you trust me?” He asked, stopping your hands as your head tilted in confusion. Surely that was obvious to him.
A second pulsed between you and you leaned over to give his arma squeeze. “With my life.”
Tech pushed, “And you have faith in my skills of observation.”
“Now, you’re just being silly.” You gave him a pat and pushed off the cot to exit. Tech caught your hand, adding weight to his question. For a moment you were stunned, you didn’t know what called for such seriousness. With a smile, you sighed and squeezed his hand. “I have as much faith in you as I do the Force,” you said and bent forward to kiss his hand.
A barely there smile came to Tech. He sighed and stood with you. “I encourage you to keep that in mind in the future.”
When Crosshair returned you were still fanning the flush from your face. The ache between your legs had hardly subsided.
“Any word from the others?” He asked, setting his gun aside and discarding his helmet.
Tech tapped through his datapad, responding casually. “Negative and I suspect it will take longer now that the suns are setting.” Pausing momentarily, he brought his comm to his face. “Hunter, what is your status?”
It wasn’t immediate, but it was Echo’s voice that came back. “Hunter’s a little… tied up at the moment.” His inflection suggested that might be literal. “We still have a ways to go. Stay with the ship.”
Your head dipped back as you groaned, “That’s not good.” Swallowing your worry, you pushed off your knees to stand up. “In that case, I’ll be back.”
“And where do you think you’re going?” Crosshair asked as he sat adjacent Tech.
You waved your hand over your shoulder as you walked off. “Just stretching my legs, I’ll be fine.” Stretch your legs and walk out the ache.
Crosshair’s gaze lingered on you, particularly the sway of your hips. He swallowed a groan and looked back to the fire.
Tech, noticing the shift in Crosshair’s demeanor, glanced over his datapad at him, assessing. “Your concern is unwarranted. She will be fine.” He observed Crosshair for a moment longer as he placed a toothpick in his mouth, then ventured into delicate territory. “Is it safe to say you find her attractive?”
Crosshair sputtered, wide eyed he whipped to look at his brother. “Wha- What does that matter to you?”
“Currently—a great deal,” Tech adjusted his goggles, his tone turning investigative. “Are you aware that she and I engage in physical relations?” When Crosshair’s stare intensified, Tech added for clarity, “Frequently.”
Crosshair covered his face with his hand, cursing into his palm. He had noticed the way you gravitated towards Tech and even suspected you’d caught Tech’s attention. Though considering your nature as a Jedi, he imagine you hadn’t acted on anything. It was why he let his teasing border on flirting.
It’s why he let himself fantasize about you.
“Why are we even talking about this?” The sniper groaned, exasperation already showing.
“Because I’m fairly certain she finds you attractive as well, and I have an idea that might benefit all involved. But first, I need to know: have you ever fantasized about her?” Tech’s question was direct, his curiosity unabashed.
Just as you circled back to the camp, Crosshair’s incredulous response pierced the air. “What?” Hearing this, you quickened your pace, pushing through the underbrush to catch an early glimpse of the scene.
When you burst through the final swath of foliage, the camp appeared oddly tranquil. Crosshair was casually leaning against crates on the opposite side of the fire from Tech, who was positioned exactly as you had left him, seemingly immersed in his datapad.
Neither of them said anything as you took a few slow steps towards Tech, still assessing the situation. Crosshair almost seemed like he was pointedly ignoring you. The oddity of it all made you smile curiously.
Sitting next to Tech you leaned over to whisper. “What did you do to piss him off?” Crosshair’s eyes narrowed in on you, a clear sign he’d heard you.
Tech pulled his datapad away from his face, glancing at Crosshair. “He's not angry,” Tech clarified, setting aside his device completely. “If anything, he's nervous.” When Tech was fully present, more interested in a situation than his research, there was always a hint of amusement in his voice.
“Oh, really?” You chuckled softly, nudging Tech playfully with your elbow. “And what’s got moody over there so nervous?”
Tech gestured his hand you, saying, “Most likely due to the anticipation of your reaction.”
Confusion briefly crossed your features as you gave a small shake of your head. “My reaction to what?”
Tech adjusted his goggles and cleared his voice, a small glimpse of his own nerves. “To learning I’ve disclosed the nature of our relations to Crosshair.”
Your cheeks went warm and, for a moment, you could only blink at Tech. “Tech.” You said in a cautious tone.
He began again with no hesitation. “Crosshair is now fully aware that you and I are involved.” You opened your mouth only to be met with Tech lifting his finger. “More significantly, I've proposed the idea of him joining us. As I see it, it would be a mutually beneficial arrangement.”
“Mutually beneficial arrangement?” You parrotted a little louder. You were suddenly very aware of Crosshair’s eyes on you. From your peripherals you noticed Crosshair shift his weight off the crates and your mouth went dry.
Tech twisted to face you head on. “The way you and Crosshair interact suggests a mutual attraction and, frankly, seeing him somewhat content is a rarity.” Crosshair scoffed from across the fire, but Tech continued. “I believe expanding our dynamics will prove enjoyable for all parties.”
Your lack of response, brows lowered but eyes wide, caused Tech to pause. A moment of hesitation passed over Tech as he considered the best path forward. His eyes shifted around before honing back in on you. The look in his eyes kept you locked in place as he leaned over and reached across his body to grip your thigh.
Facing away from Crosshair, Tech brought his mouth to your ear. Just for you to hear, he said, “And I believe you would find an evening with the two of us... quite exhilarating.”
Remaining still, your eyes flew to Crosshair. From the distance you were sure he couldn’t have heard Tech, but he was waiting, almost holding his breath, for your response. The ache between your legs bloomed again. Your thighs squeezed together, trapping Tech’s hand between them.
Between Tech’s proximity and Crosshair’s staring you down, you couldn’t hear anything over your own heartbeat. Abruptly, you stood, disentangling yourself from Tech, and nearly stumbled over your makeshift seat. You fanned your face, letting out nervous laughs while your eyes darted between them.
Before you could gather your thoughts to speak, Crosshair’s voice cut through the tension. “Now who’s nervous?” His tone was taunting, yet when you looked at him, your nervousness seemed to have evaporate. Crosshair poised, nearly predatory, as if waiting for a signal to spring into action. Undeniably captivating.
For Crosshair. Seeing you flushed and breathless with excitement brought his fantasies vividly to the forefront of his mind. He raised an eyebrow, his typical smirk softening into something more tender.
“Crosshair?” You managed to say with a small, flattered smile playing on your lips. “You want this?”
After a tense pause, he discarded the toothpick in his mouth and walked around the fire to where you stood beside Tech. With a steady voice Crosshair said, “I.. wouldn’t have agreed to discuss it if I didn’t.”
Eyes blown wide, your heartbeat throbbed between your legs. Holding Crosshair’s gaze a heartbeat longer you looked down at Tech with a nod.
A spark of excitement hit Tech’s eyes. “Excellent.” Tech smiled and pushed off his knees to stand. “In that case-”
You interjected quickly, “Right now.”
“Right now?” Crosshair repeated incredulously.
“That… would be my fault.” Tech walked past you and patted Crosshair on the shoulder. “You two head into the tent, I’ll be in shortly.” Without even having to see your shared confused expression Tech sighed, continuing to walk to the comm station. He clarified, “It would be wise to make sure we are alerted if the others are near.”
A hand settled on your lower back as Crosshair guided you away. “We’ll leave you to it then.” Crosshair said after him. He leaned down, ducking into you as you both crossed the tent’s threshold. As he pushed into you a breathy laugh kissed the skin of you neck. “Should’ve seen your face.”
You tried to shove him off with bump of you hips - a playful move you’d done dozens of times. With his hand still resting on the small of your back the movement slid his hand into place on your waist.
He remained close, looking down at you and his grip firming on you. “Since when have you…” He started saying but trailed off. He didn’t need to finish, you knew what he was asking.
“Since the day you caught me from falling in the river on Kuat.”
He craned his neck back, a smirk shifting his lips. “Didn’t I then drop you into the river?”
Even just his hand waist sent your heart racing. “It made me laugh,” you replied with a light shrug. Rising onto your tiptoes, you whispered close to his ear, “Or maybe the first time I saw you shooting from one knee.” Settling back onto your heels, you shrugged again, smiling slyly. “I like the way you pose.”
Crosshair rolled his eyes, but his amusement was evident as he slipped his hand up to the nape of your neck moving to stand in front of you. Unable to think under the weight of his touch you stepped into his space.
You opened your mouth but Crosshair’s voice came first, “Don’t even bother asking.”
He wasn’t wrong -you were going to ask him the same thing. Instead, you reached up and gently guided his hand from your neck to your chest, pressing his palm against your heart. When the pace of your heart registered with him you said, “I was going to ask you to kiss me.”
His eyes widened and it was now Tech’s voice that rang out. “Oh good, at least you're somewhat comfortable.” Crosshair pulled away like you were too hot to touch. “I would not be shy if I were you, Crosshair.” Tech said as he started stripping a few armor plates off. “Otherwise this will not have the desired effect for you.”
Tech stood with the majority of his plating stripped from the waist down. He came to your back, hands slipping in front of you to make quick work of your belt. It clattered to the ground, and your tunics soon followed, each piece of clothing creating a soft thud.
Crosshair, still only a few feet from you, memorized every newly revealed patch of skin with an intensity that seemed to magnify the air between you.
When you were down to the bandeau, his breath hitched. When Tech released the bandeau, and you were finally exposed to him, a shudder ran through Crosshair. He’d been hard for sometime, but the sight of you now made him painfully harder. He grit his teeth as his cock pushed against his codpiece.
The flush of your chest, heaving in a mesmerizing way, matched your face. Crosshair extended a hand, gently grazing your nipple. Your eyes fluttered at the touch and Tech felt you shiver.
“You should kiss her.” Tech suggested as he trailed his hands down your sides, over your stomach, and to the buttons of your pants. “You must talk to her.”
Crosshair cupped your breast, running his thumb over your nipple before catching it in a pinch. You took a sharp inhale and Crosshair moved in on your parted lips. He was gentle at first, kissing you slowly and sucking on your lip, but when you moaned into him Crosshair matched the noise and deepened the kiss. He held your face in place moving his lips against you as if he’d rather devour you than breathe.
When he heard the sound of fabric rustling, Crosshair finally eased up. Leaving you panting and leaning into his touch. As Tech kneeled he pulled your pants with him, trailing kisses down your back as he went.
Crosshair stood back to let you step out of the pile of clothes around you. You were completely bare and squirming where you stood. His eyes roamed your body, snagging between your legs before meeting your gaze again.
Crosshair chuckled and said in a low voice, “I should’ve tossed you in a river much sooner.”
“Not exactly the time, Crosshair.” Tech said as he tugged you towards a cot. Crosshair followed at half the pace.
Sitting you at the edge of a cot, Tech positioned himself between your knees. He pivoted to look back at Crosshair who kept a distance. “Are you ready?” Tech asked.
Crosshair tipped his head to you. “Aren’t you going to ask her?”
Tech didn’t break eye contact as he took one finger and traced it up over your wet folds. A string of your slick trailed after him as he brought his finger back in front of him. “Oh,” He said as he examined his wet fingers. “I don’t need to ask.”
You hooked a leg over Tech’s shoulder and pulled his attention back to you. “I’m done waiting, Tech.”
Tech shrugged, quipping, “Told you.”
On his knees, Tech leaned in to place a kiss on your cheek and give you access to his goggles. Your finger traced the side of his goggles until you felt a button. A light tap and a soft beep indicated and you were recording. Tech pulled back to press a kiss to your lips. “Thank you, Sarad.”
He traced a hand from your neck, between your breasts and down to your thigh. Pushing your leg farther to the side Tech tucked his head in close to you and blew air over you. You hadn’t even shivered through the chill yet when Tech took your clit into his mouth. He gave your bud light, fast licks that deepened into slow rolling laps.
You lowered yourself onto your elbows and let your head dip back. You moaned softly, mewling your pleasure as Tech worked you up. He slid two fingers inside and your head snapped back up, eager to watch him work.
It took you a moment to remember Crosshair’s presence, but when your eyes met Crosshair’s you nearly came on sight. Tech felt you tighten and slowed his rhythm - you needed to last longer than that.
“Cross?” You panted, eyes dipping to see if you could spot any sign of his arousal. “Are you…?” You wanted to hear, see, and even feel more of him- but the words escaped you.
Crosshair never witnessed the look you were giving him, but he knew exactly what you wanted. He took slow steps forward, his hands dropping to the plating below his waist. The first to drop was his codpiece, revealing a large bulge behind his blacks. “Does that answer your question?” He drawled, his eyes caught on Tech’s movements.
“Show her.” Tech said in a momentary breath. He kissed the thigh you had over his shoulder, mumbling into your skin. “She wants to see.”
Crosshair flicked his plating to another cot. His hands gripped into fists a few times before he slipped his blacks out of the way and released his cock. Another burst of excitement rushed through you and Tech immediately eased off. He looked up at you, assessing how far gone you were, steadily curling his two fingers inside you.
Focused on Crosshair’s length, unsurprisingly similar to Tech’s, you bit your lip. “Show me.” You whined, your order sounding like pleading.
Crosshair stepped within reaching distance and did exactly as you asked. His hand slid down his shaft, lightly squeezing at the base and started a slow pace as he watched you quiver under Tech’s touch.
For a while you basked in the high of the two men worshiping you. Tech pushed you to the threshold of release once more before he stopped moving. Pulling your eyes from Crosshair you watched Tech sit back and wipe his palm over his mouth. Gently removing your leg he moved around your side to be face to face with you.
“Crosshair,” Tech said, brushing a knuckle over your cheek. He leveled a look at his brother and asked, “Are you or are you not going to participate?” Tech moved himself behind you, supporting you between his legs. He left the spot between yours as an open invitation.
Crosshair didn’t hesitate. He kept his eyes on you as he kneeled, hands sliding up your inner thighs. As he settled in, Tech used one hand to circle your breast and the other roamed the rest of your skin in search of sensitivity. “Gently licking her is the best to start.” Tech advised, his eyes consuming every reaction you made.
The sniper dragged his thumb over your pussy, making a noise when your wetness pooled over his finger. Catching your attention, Crosshair smirked and dropped his gaze. He couldn’t stop the moan he made at the first glimpse of how truly aroused you were. His eyes locked with yours again and he lowered himself to you. As he opened his mouth, a whine made it past your lips as you eagerly waited for his touch. When he finally pressed his tongue flat against your entrance he licked the entirety of you and ended with a flick over your clit.
The pressure he applied felt like electricity shot through you. Your hand flew to his head, gripping through his hair to gently push him back. His mouth was slightly open, his tongue still wet from the taste of you.
“Gently.” Tech said firmly. He pulled you back to rest against him, your head resting close to where his cock pressed through his blacks.
“She seemed to like it.” Crosshair countered with confidence, pushing out of your light hold to taste you. He ran his tongue over you again, but this time he finished with swirling around your clit. You rested a hand on his head, your thumb mimicking the motion of his tongue. Crosshair hummed at the touch and covered your clit, sucking gently on you until your hips bucked against him.
Meanwhile, Tech rolled your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “You do like that,” he pinched slightly harder. “Your chest is flushing and your thighs are quivering - it would seem you are close.”
You admitted to it in a quick hush as your eyes fluttered to look up at Tech. Crosshair’s mouth was faster and more desperate than you were used to, but his gentle pressure was driving you to delirium. Tech watched your eyes gain the familiar glossed over look he constantly sought after. You were indeed close, painfully so.
Writhing under Tech’s touch, you rolled your head to the side and pressed your cheek against the heat of Tech’s cock. You kissed the hard length, then ran your tongue over the fabric separating you. Tech hissed and you felt him throb against you.
“Ah, not yet.” Tech said, but didn’t pull your mouth away. When you tried twisting to gain more access, he finally moved you away. He looked down at you, angling his head to capture every inch of you. “I have a better idea.”
He said Crosshair’s name, who, recognizing the tone,immediately paused. Crosshair grazed your folds once more before pulling away while Tech slid his arms under you. You were used to Tech guiding you through positions and easily followed his lead until you were straddling him at the end of the cot.
Crosshair came up behind you, nestling his face into your neck. He deeply inhaled you and, on a strained exhale, saddled himself against your backside. You were so focused on the fact that Crosshair’s cock was pressing against you, you didn’t catch Tech pulling away his blacks.
Gazing up at you, Tech let his cock throb for a moment as he savored this view of you - panting, dripping, and blatantly pleased. He held your hip in place as he guided himself to your entrance. When his head glided over your slit, your focus dialed back in on Tech.
You felt the quiver inside you and couldn’t contain the way your hips gyrated in search of Tech. “You must lower yourself slowly.” Tech groaned as you did just that. When he was fully sheathed inside of you, you let out a breathless sound. The way Tech first filled you always took your breath away. This time you weren’t sure if you’d catch your breath.
Tech pushed up into you, testing your limits, before rolling his hips back and lifting you back up. The two of you moved together like that for a few motions with Crosshair moving against you in tandem. When Tech was completely coated in you and you were adjusted to his size, Tech moved a hand to your back to pull you forward. As you bent with him, Tech kept himself buried inside of you.
He throbbed inside of you, but held you in place. “Crosshair.” He strained to say.
Silence fell over you and Crosshair as you both realized what Tech wanted. Crosshair found you already smiling over your shoulder at him and knew you were going to be the death of him. You were so confident and - “So beautiful.” Crosshair finished his thought out loud.
Another part of him wanted to know just how hard he had to fuck you to wipe that confident smirk clean. He cocked his head and snorted at the thought. Another time.
Crosshair leaned over, spitting on his cock as he began stroking himself again. He gathered his precum and covered the head of his cock in it. Sufficiently wet, Crosshair brought his cock to where Tech sat inside you. He slid his cock up against you and used his thumb to guide himself in.
Each of you held your breath as Crosshair rocked his hips to slowly, inch by inch, work his was inside. He wasn’t even half way sheathed when you cried out.
Crosshair yanked you up against him. He was worried you were in pain, but was met with blissed out expression. Your leaned back into him, a hand reaching up for his face.
“We’ve hit her G-spot.” Tech explained as he took an exploratory thrust. When he slid back inside you, stretching you out with Crosshair, he felt the tell tale hip thrusts you made when you were about to cum. “Crosshair, hold her still.”
Crosshair fortified his hold on you, taking the moment to bury himself deep inside you. Suspended in the air, you were helpless against Tech’s touch. His thumb found your clit, pressing into you and he starting fucking you from below.
You and Crosshair moaned in a similar way, both of you at the point of no return. Tech saw the two of you trembling against your pleasure and knew exactly what to do. He gave two hard final thrusts and squeezed your clit between his fingers and you were finished.
Pleasure broke through you, sending your back into an arch and your legs trembling. Crosshair clamped his mouth down on the nape of your neck, while Tech bit his own lip - both of them breaking through their orgasms. The two men shuddered against you and spilled themselves inside you. Cum quickly leaked out of you and down their cocks, acting as lubrication for their final mindless thrusts. They were both spent and basking in the haze of their climaxes.
Their throbbing threatened to push your past your limits, but collapsing back into Crosshair you didn’t think you’d mind even if they did.
The three of you panted for a few moments before you tapped on Crosshair’s arm, a silent request. He left a kiss on your skin as he pulled out of you, cumming spilling after him. The sudden loss of him almost made you pull him back.
Tech relaxed underneath you. A pleased smile curved his lips and spread when he touched your face. “You were wonderful.” His praise warmed your chest.
By the time Tech helped you up, Crosshair was already cleaning himself off and retrieving his armor. You blocked his path, hands on your hips, a playful smirk on your lips. “Not even going to help clean up?” Though your tone was light, teasing, you enjoyed prodding him just to see his reaction.
Crosshair responded by placing a toothpick between his lips and tipping your chin up with a finger. His eyes locked onto yours, unswayed by the allure of your body below the neck. “When it is just mine,” he murmured, his voice low and enticing, “I’ll lick you clean myself.” With a tap to your chin, he stepped around you, leaving you slightly agape in his wake.
“When it is just mine,” Crosshair murmured to you. “I’ll lick you clean myself.” He tapped your chin and left you standing, mouth still open.
Tech approached with your garments and a towel. He sat back down on the cot, watching you clean up. Tech stopped recording with a tap of his goggles.
Tech came over with your garments and a towel, a slight smile playing at his lips as he handed them to you. He then sat back on the cot, his gaze lingering on you as you began to clean up. With a tap of his goggles, he stopped recording. “This will certainly be… interesting to review,” Tech remarked casually as he started to reassemble his armor.
As you wiggled into your pants, you hummed a laugh. “Don’t you mean exhilarating .”
A light blush bloomed over his cheeks. But he pointed a finger at you. “I was not wrong about that.”
“No,” you planted a kiss on the top of his head with a smile. “You were not.”
#the bad batch#tbb#star wars#bad batch#tech#tbb tech#the bad batch tech#tbb crosshair#tbb tech x reader#tech x reader#tech x you#tech and crosshair#the bad batch crosshair#corsshair#crosshair x reader#tbb crosshair x reader#fanfictoin#fanfiction#tbb tech x you#tbb crosshair x you#the bad batch x reader#the bad batch x you#imagine#tech smut#crosshair smut#the bad batch smut#female reader#why the fuck am i awake#because this is rotting my brain#see you in 3 hours alarm
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Beyond the Bookshelves (1)
Pairing: Loki x Reader
Warnings: Some swearing, work stress, impossible tasks
Summary: You're a Resource Management Specialist at S.H.I.E.L.D. normally referred to as “The Librarian”. You've been assigned the nightmarish task of digitizing all the physical resources currently owned by the agency, with a few new computers and one extra helper.
A/N: I honestly do not know where this is going and why I even started this. It was an idea that sort of popped into my head while at work. I hope you enjoy it! Please comment/like/reblog. If you'd like to be tagged moving forward, please let me know!
The lovely banners used in this fic are from @cafekitsune.
Papers fluttered to the ground around Loki as stared down at the young woman who ran into him. He cocked an eyebrow as he heard a low hiss of pain come from her gritted teeth. The impact could not have been that painful, but how was he to know? He was minding his own business, walking down the fairly empty hallway reading a book when something had come crashing into him. It was not the first time he had been assaulted, but it was certainly the first time to be tackled in the middle of an empty hallway. Glancing around, he noticed there were a few people lingering about, watching to see what he would do or see what transpired.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Her voice drew his attention back down to the ground to see her on her knees trying to gather the scattered sheets of paper. He slid his right foot back as she reached for one near it.
“You are excused,” he responded in a level tone that held little emotion, if any at all. She looked up at him in wide-eyed shock which had him raise an eyebrow yet again at her. He hesitated for a moment to speak, feeling the eyes on them.
“Is there something else you wish to say?”
“Huh? Oh, no, just surprised to hear you say anything. I’ve never heard you speak before, so I thought that maybe you couldn’t.” She admitted, tapping the bottom edge of the sheets to make the pile more uniform. “You have a nice voice.” She added, carefully inspecting the surrounding area, oblivious to the bewildered look of the prince before her. “Ah-ha!” She grinned, crawling forward and reaching between his feet. Startled by her actions, Loki quickly took a few steps backward, leaving a noticeable shoe print on the paper she had been reaching for. “Thank you, this was the last one I needed.” She smiled at him, though when she saw the print, her lips quickly curled downwards into a noticeable frown. “That’s not good, Fury’s not gonna be happy.” She mumbled, carefully placing the dirtied sheet on the top as she stood up with her sizable stack of folders and binders in her arms. “Well, it was a pleasure speaking to you, Mr. Loki, I hope you enjoy the rest of your day.”
He watched as she casually resumed her walk down the hallway, unperturbed by the fact that she had just walked straight into him, Loki, the monster that had wreaked havoc in the world and destroyed their precious city. The very city they were currently in now. What an odd Midgardian, but I suppose this would be the place to find plenty of odd ones. He turned to look at some spectators and watched them visibly flinch or stumble as they met his gaze, scrambling to leave the vicinity and get away from here, away from him. Opening his book once more, he continued on his way towards his destination.
Just as she had anticipated, Fury was not pleased with the surprise print on one of the report pages. He looked between it and her in silence, sliding the packet across his desk in her direction as he leaned back and turned his chair slightly.
“Mind telling me why you suddenly decided to decorate such a vital report with a shoe?”
“It was an accident, sir. While on my way here, I was reviewing the content and ended up crashing into someone on the way. They unintentionally stepped on the sheet while trying to avoid the others. I didn’t have time to reprint the documents prior to this meeting. I will be submitting a clean copy into the record and have this one shredded.”
“I’ll let it slide this time only. Next time, watch where you’re walking and leave reviewing for when you’re at a desk. Everything looks to be in order, reprint and file it.”
“Thank you sir, I’ll have it done right away.” She bowed her head and picked up the report.
“Don’t let this happen again.” He sternly remarked. “The next time it does, you’ll have to deal with the consequences. Do I make myself clear?”
“Crystal, sir.” Y/N nodded. “The next item for discussion is the transition of all physical resources into digital. I do understand that many have requested that all resources be scanned and made digital, but that task is a lot larger than many realize. Also, not all of our sources are safe to scan due to age or they need to be translated and checked prior to scanning. It is not impossible, but a sizable team would be needed in order to have it completed. I propose that the physical sources we have are properly cataloged and organized so they are easier to be found. We can have them scanned in the process, but again, we run into the issues of needing to translate and verify that the translations are correct.”
“Y/N, just get to the fucking point. Can it be done?” Fury cut her off, looking at her pointedly with his good eye.
“In an ideal situation, yes.” She let out a small sigh.
“And what is an ‘ideal situation’?”
“A team of at least five agents per letter, several translators for the various languages we have to make sure we have them properly translated, and a warehouse filled with scanners and computers to scan, name, and upload. With such a team and ideal conditions always, it could take about five to ten years to complete.”
“Oh just that?” His voice was dripping with sarcasm, his frown more pronounced than usual. Y/N knew he was not pleased with her answer, but there was no use in trying to make it lighter than it really was. They had an extensive library in house and warehouses of delicate and confidential artifacts, which included tomes and scrolls. She was the head librarian and managed all of this with only a handful of others spread across the various locations.
“Ideally, yes.”
“And if it wasn’t ideal?”
“Depends on what factors are not present, but without those minimum requirements it could take decades.”
“But it can be done.” He flatly responded, sitting forward in his seat and resting his elbows on the desk. “We won’t destroy any of the physical resources, but you’ll have to make do with what you get. We don’t have the luxury of just handing over a slew of agents for this. We need boots on the ground globally to keep an eye out on things out there bigger than us.” A weight suddenly dropped in the pit of her stomach. Though she was not expecting anything close to what she listed as an ideal, there was something in his tone that screamed out that she was going to hear the worst case scenario.
“And what would I get to work with?” She managed to keep her voice steady.
“State-of-the-art technology per library staff member per location and a god.”
Silence fell over them as she stood there, slowly blinking at her superior. This had to be some sort of sick joke. She knew the organization could not give what was needed, but this? This was hardly anything at all.
“I’m sorry, did you just say new computers and a god?”
“That’s what I said.” He nodded his head.
“You must be joking, right? This task would take more than just decades to do, and what does ‘a god’ even mean? A ‘god’ per person or location, or just one god? And what sort of ‘god’ Do you just have deities on demand or something? Are they just going to snap their fingers and things will be done magically? What can they do for me and this lifelong assignment I have now been tasked with?” She paced in front of his desk, muttering to herself on how this could work and what sort of person this ‘god’ was. He cannot be serious, right? But Fury isn’t the type to just say shit or joke around. She turned and looked at her boss. No, not a joker. She frowned.
“Y/N, calm down. We’ve got two Asgardian gods that have a knack for understanding all languages. You don’t need a team of translators when they can do it on the spot just like that.” His sharp tone made her stop and turn to face him. “So that whole crap can be cut, and you can work with one of them to get all this done faster with fewer people and just get to organizing shit. You’re getting what you get, end of discussion. Anything else?”
“No sir,” she sighed and shook her head.
“Good, I’ll get Agent Hill to talk to them and reach out to you. You’re dismissed.”
“Yes sir.” She slightly bowed her head and left the office, her shoulders dropping the moment the door closed behind her. This was not going to be easy.
Tag list: @vbecker10
#loki#loki marvel#loki god of mischief#loki odinson#loki laufeyson#mcu loki#marvel fic#marvel fanfic#mcu#loki fic#loki fanfiction#loki fanfic#y/n#your name#reader insert#loki x you#loki x reader#loki x fem!reader#loki x female reader#loki x y/n#agents of shield#shield agent reader#tom hiddleston#loki of asgard#avengers fanfiction#avengers fanfic#loki avengers#shield agents#agents of s.h.i.e.l.d.#s.h.i.e.l.d.
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Carrying his child.
Finding out you're pregnant with Simon's child.
"I saw that you were perfect, and so I loved you. Then I saw that you were not perfect and I loved you even more." – Angelita Lim
After finishing breakfast, I followed Ghost to his room. He was packing.
"So you're leaving me finally!" I said.
"It isn't like that. I am getting deployed. Will catch up with ya later." He said while folding his clothes and putting them neatly in his suitcase.
I started helping him.
"Soap will teach you how to shoot a sniper while he is here," he said.
"But he cannot fulfill the void, your void, Simon!" I said, my voice tinged with a mix of frustration and sadness.
He paused, looking up at me, his eyes softening for a moment before he resumed packing. "I know, love. But duty calls. You understand that, don't you?"
I nodded, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. "I do. But it doesn't make it any easier."
He straightened up, closing the suitcase and pulling me into his arms. "I'll be back before you know it," he murmured against my hair. "And until then, remember that you're never truly alone. I'm always with you, in some way."
I buried my face in his chest, inhaling his familiar scent, trying to commit it to memory. "Just come back to me," I whispered.
He kissed the top of my head, holding me tightly. "I promise," he said, his voice firm yet gentle. "I'll always come back to you."
Tears started to well up in my eyes. I broke out in sobs. "You know these walls, this huge space I call home, they gnaw at me when I am alone. One day Johnny will have to leave. What would I do without you, my love?" I sobbed.
He cupped my face and wiped my tears with his thumb. "You are my girl and I need my girl to be brave. Do you understand?" he said, his voice steady but full of emotion.
I nodded, trying to pull myself together, feeling the warmth of his touch anchoring me. "I'll try, Simon. For you."
"That's all I ask," he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. "Just hold on. I'll be back before you know it."
He took his sniper case and opened it on the bed, removing the sniper and presenting it to me. "Here, Nora. Take care of it. It's yours now."
I took it from his hands, my fingers trembling as I felt the weight of it. "I have fought wars with it, and it's very close to my heart. That's why I'm giving it to you. Use it on your enemies, just in case. Johnny will teach you," he said, his voice steady yet filled with emotion.
I looked at him, tears blurring my vision. His presence, his strength, everything about him was etched into this weapon. My trembling hands gripped the rifle, feeling its cold metal against my skin.
He rolled his balaclava up to his forehead, revealing his face. His lips touched mine in a gentle kiss, filled with love and longing. I didn't want him to pull away, wishing time would stay still, keeping us in this moment forever. But reality was relentless, and he eventually drew back, leaving me with the rifle and the memory of his touch.
"Come, take my hand. The helicopter's waitin'," he said, taking my hand into his.
We climbed the stairs to my roof where Captain Price, Soap, and Gaz were already standing.
"We're leaving now, kid. We had a very good time here," Captain Price said.
"Captain Price! After my father's death, you've been like a father to me. I'm grateful you came here and spent time with me." I hugged him tightly.
Gaz came over and hugged me too. "Thanks, Nora, for all of that," he said.
"Mention not, Gaz," I replied.
Simon still held my hand, a comforting presence by my side.
"See ya again, LT!" Soap said, punching Simon's chest playfully.
Simon stood with me as they all boarded the helicopter. The blades started to move, creating a deafening roar.
"See you again, sweetheart," Simon said, turning to go, but I grabbed his hand and hugged him fiercely.
"I love you, Simon," I whispered.
"I love you too, Nora," he whispered back.
Captain Price couldn't hear our conversation, but I could see the suspicion in his eyes, his doubts about us beginning to take form.
I touched my lips with my fingers and then pressed my fingers against his masked lips, not caring about what Captain Price might think. Simon pointed his fingers towards his eyes and then to mine, gesturing that he would be coming back for me.
With that, he stepped inside the helicopter. Johnny and I stood there, watching as the helicopter ascended and flew away. I stood there long after it had disappeared into the sky, feeling the emptiness settle in.
Tears were flowing from my eyes, and Johnny noticed.
"It's awright, Nora. He'll be back when he's free. Until then, I'm here. Ye won't be bored, I promise." He chuckled.
"Thanks, Johnny," I said, climbing down the stairs with him following after me.
"Make yourself at home, Johnny," I said as I entered Simon's room and closed the door. His room felt empty without him.
I sat on the bed holding the sniper he gave me, touching it and thinking about how he had used it. It was a piece of him which he gave me. I noticed his grey hoodie lying on the bed. He left it there.
I held it close, taking in his scent, the musky cologne. It smelled of him. I laid on the bed holding it close, my face toward the balcony door where rays of sunlight entered the room. The bed, the sheets, everything smelled of him, and I wanted to envelop myself in his vibes.
I closed my eyes and drifted to sleep again with him on my mind.
It was almost lunchtime when I woke up.
I stood and opened the door. The faint voice of laughing grew nearer as I descended the stairs. There I saw Soap standing in the living room, talking to the chef and laughing at his own silly jokes.
"What's going on here?" I asked.
"Ach, nothin'. I was just tellin' her some jokes that I tell LT," Soap replied.
"Aye, Nora! Ye play games? Uno, Ludo, Monopoly?" he asked.
"Only Ludo, but nobody is here to play with me."
"Ye go tae the gym?" he asked.
"Yes, I have my own gym here. I haven't worked out in a while as Simon was here."
"Sure LT would have used it. He loves tae work out," he said.
"No, he didn't either," I replied.
"I'll show you the gym after lunch but let's eat something first," I said and went inside the kitchen to help the chef.
"Hey Johnny! Tell me anything about Ghost," I asked.
"Aye, lass! Ghost? Ah, he's a fine listener, ye ken? No one for idle chatter, but when he does speak, it's worth listenin' to. And when it comes to crackin' jokes, he's a right laugh, especially among us," Johnny replied in his Scottish brogue.
"Well! Simon said you'll show me how to shoot a sniper," I said.
"Aye! I'll teach ye," Johnny confirmed.
As the day progressed, I found myself immersed in conversation with Johnny. He was quite the charmer, with an infectious smile that lit up the room. He had a great sense of humor and was incredibly friendly.
"Aye lass! Let's play a game. Whit were ye sayin' before, which game ye play?" Johnny asked.
"Ludo," I said.
"Let's play Ludo then," he said.
"Sorry Johnny! I have to attend an online meeting. You can watch TV if you are getting bored." I said.
"Aye, lass, which meeting are ye off to?" Johnny inquired.
"It's my father's company, a pharma business. I'm running it now. I'll be joining the office from tomorrow, so you'll be on your own," I explained.
"I'll come wi' ye. Would love to see yer company," he offered.
"You sure? You won't get bored?" I asked.
"Nah, it's fine. I'm here tae keep ye safe," he replied confidently.
A month later,
I was sitting in the meeting room of my company. It was almost time to leave. Johnny did not accompany me today.
As I stood up, my head spinning, I felt a wave of dizziness wash over me. The room seemed to blur, and I struggled to maintain my balance. I reached out to steady myself, grasping the edge of the table as I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart.
"Are you okay, Nora?" my colleague asked, concern evident in their voice.
I nodded weakly, forcing a smile. "I'm fine, just feeling a bit lightheaded. I think I need some fresh air."
With shaky steps, I made my way out of the meeting room and into the corridor. Leaning against the wall, I closed my eyes, trying to steady my breathing. The world spun around me, and I felt a sense of unease settle in the pit of my stomach.
I sat in my car, the wave of dizziness and nausea was overwhelming.
As I arrived at my mansion, exhaustion weighed heavily upon me. Johnny was there, waiting for me. But as I entered, a sudden wave of dizziness washed over me, and before I could react, darkness enveloped my vision, and I fell unconscious.
When I woke, Johnny was kneeling beside me, concern etched on his face. He had caught me before I hit the ground, his strong arms supporting me.
"Are you alright, lass?" he asked, his voice filled with worry.
I groaned softly, my head throbbing with pain. "I... I don't know. I felt dizzy and then... everything went black."
Johnny helped me sit up, his steady presence a reassuring anchor in the midst of my confusion. "We need to get you checked out, Nora. This ain't normal."
I nodded weakly, grateful for his concern. With Johnny's support, I managed to stand, albeit unsteadily. Together, we made our way to the nearest couch, where I sank down, feeling utterly drained.
As Johnny fetched a glass of water, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered within me. Something was wrong, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. All I knew was that I needed answers, and fast.
"I think I should call my doctor," I muttered, dialing his number.
Dr. William arrived within half an hour. "How are you, young woman? Aren't you taking care of yourself?" he asked.
"I don't know what's happening. I think it might be iron deficiency," I replied.
"Where's your friend, Nora?" he asked.
"You mean Simon?" I asked back.
"Yes," he replied.
"He's in the army, so he had to go back," I explained.
"And who is this gentleman?" Dr. William pointed towards Soap.
"He's my friend. Like a little brother," I said.
"Hmm. Low blood pressure, low sugar... What are you doing, kid?" he huffed.
"I'm taking a blood sample. We'll run some tests and I'll send you the reports ASAP," Dr. William said.
Dr. William took my sample and left.
"You should tell LT about this," Soap said, concerned.
"Tell what? It's just normal, nothing unexpected," I replied. "I should go rest." I headed to my room.
Sitting on the bed, another wave of nausea hit me. I rushed to the bathroom to vomit.
"I think I caught a stomach bug," I messaged Simon.
After messaging Simon, I rinsed my mouth and returned to my room, feeling utterly exhausted. I laid down on the bed, trying to ignore the lingering nausea. My phone buzzed with a reply from Simon.
"Are ya alright, love? Do ya need me to come back?" Simon's concern was evident even through the text.
"No, I'll be fine. Just need some rest," I typed back, though I wished he could be here with me.
Johnny knocked gently on my door. "Nora, you okay in there?"
"Yeah, Johnny. Just feeling a bit off," I said, my voice weak.
"Need anythin'? Some water, tea, maybe?" he offered.
"Water would be nice, thanks," I replied, managing a small smile.
Johnny returned quickly with a glass of water. "Here ya go. Rest up, alright?"
"Thanks, Johnny," I said, taking a sip.
As I settled back into bed, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was seriously wrong. The nausea, the dizziness, the fatigue—it all felt too much to be just a stomach bug. But for now, all I could do was wait for Dr. William's call with the test results.
Hours passed, and I drifted in and out of a restless sleep. Finally, my phone rang. It was Dr. William.
"Nora, I got your results. Can you talk?"
"Yes, Dr. William, please tell me," I said, my heart pounding.
"Your iron levels are indeed low, and you have low blood pressure and low blood sugar, which explains your dizziness and nausea. However, there's something else. Have you missed your period recently?"
My breath caught in my throat. "Yes, I have. What does that mean?"
"Nora, I think you might be pregnant. We'll need to do a confirmation test, but the symptoms and your blood work suggest it."
Pregnant? The word echoed in my mind. I thanked Dr. William and ended the call, feeling a mix of shock, joy, and fear. How would I tell Simon? What would this mean for us?
I decided not to share this with Johnny yet. It felt too personal, too raw to discuss with anyone before Simon knew. I needed time to process this on my own.
Lost in thought, I barely noticed when Johnny knocked on my door again. "Nora? Ya look like you've seen a ghost. Everythin' alright?"
"Just tired, Johnny. Thanks for the water," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Johnny, I've got to go see Simon," I told him as I hurriedly threw some clothes into my suitcase.
"Everythin' alright, Nora?" Johnny asked, concern etched on his face.
"Yeah, just...something important came up. I need to talk to him face-to-face," I said, avoiding eye contact.
"Alright, if ye need anythin', let me know," Johnny replied, his worry evident but respectful of my need for privacy.
I had told Johnny not to inform Simon that we were coming to see him. Dr. William had emailed me the test report, and I had it ready to show Simon. When the helicopter landed on the base, Johnny stepped out first, offering me a hand to help me down.
I wore simple white joggers, a long figure-hugging jersey dress, and a denim jacket. As I stepped onto the base, I could feel all eyes on me. Johnny grabbed my suitcase and led the way inside the building. The stares followed me as I walked, my heart pounding with anticipation.
Johnny carried my suitcase inside while I continued my search for Simon. I found him in the briefing room with Captain Price and Gaz, all of them engrossed in a discussion over a map. Simon was leaning on the desk, his focus on the map. I stood in the doorway, crossing my arms over my chest, waiting for him to notice me.
Suddenly, his eyes lifted and met mine. A look of surprise and concern flashed across his face.
"Lieutenant Simon Riley," I said, my voice steady but carrying the weight of the news I was about to share. "We need to talk."
He straightened up, his expression shifting to one of immediate seriousness. "Nora? What are ya doin' here?"
Captain Price and Gaz exchanged curious glances but remained silent. Simon quickly walked over to me, concern evident in his eyes. "Let's go somewhere private," he said softly.
We walked out of the room and found a quiet spot outside. Simon turned to me, his eyes searching mine. "What's goin' on, love?"
I took a deep breath and handed him the printed email from Dr. William. "Simon, I'm pregnant," I said, my voice trembling slightly.
He looked down at the paper, then back up at me, his eyes wide with shock. "Pregnant?" he repeated, as if needing to hear it again to believe it.
I nodded. "I wanted to tell you in person. This is big, Simon. It changes everything."
He stood there for a moment, processing the news. Then, he pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly. "We'll get through this, Nora. Together. I'm here for ya, no matter what."
Tears of relief and joy welled up in my eyes as I held onto him. "I was so scared, Simon. But hearing you say that...it makes everything better."
He kissed the top of my head, his voice full of love and determination. "We'll figure it out, love. One step at a time. Now, let's get you settled and take care of ya and our little one."
#cod ghost#ghost call of duty#ghost cod#simon ghost riley#simon riley#call of duty#modern warfare#modern warfare 2#ghost x reader#ghost x y/n#simon ghost x reader#ghost x you#task force 141#task force x reader
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heylooo maggots *waves*
may's nearly over and because of a lot of chaotic things, i never did manage to make a post properly thanking you all for everything you did for my birthday on 7th. but here i am and so i wanna say thank you so much. you all did so much for me, wishing me and sending me cards and making me a playlist and writing fanfiction and making art and just sending so much love that it made it the best birthday i've ever had in my life, during one of the most turbulent times of my life.
here's a secret i didn't tell you that day. some of you may remember back when i was debating whether or not i wanted to go to college, even though i'd got in a good one. well, i did decide to, but then they were really horrid to my mum about a scholarship and so instead of design i applied to a different art school instead and i did get in. but by then i was so exhausted, of choices being taken away from me and of the messiness in my irl family and needing to move house but not being able to and queerphobia everywhere. anyway.
my mum had taken me for a drive, that evening, with my doggy, roxie. and we were discussing all of this and god i was so tired and miserable and so when we got out of the car back home i just burst into tears and i was sick and then i just sort of. sat down. right there on the road.
and i didn't know how to get up. i was so fucking tired of everything and i couldn't make myself get up, and i don't know how long i would have sat there, stressing my mum and roxie out, if i hadn't remembered you all.
and i remembered that you'd done so much and you were waiting for me to get upstairs and talk to you and you'd worry if i were late and i could cut my cake with you, like i wanted to, and you would make me laugh and cry and smile.
and that's the only reason i was able to get up, and get back home. and the rest of the night was beautiful, because i spent it with you.
so... so thank you. so, so much. you've saved my life so many times and changed it in so many ways. whether i've interacted with you personally or not. the fact that i know you're all there, it keeps me going, and you gave me a family.
i love you i love you i love you so fucking much.
i love you. you are so fucking loved. i can't even begin to put it into words.
the world's pretty shite at times but maybe we get through it together it'll be survivable and it might even be fun, sometimes.
have the loveliest of days, maggots.
-asmi
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Dad! Astarion x reader
Tw:Cazador,thigh biting (chat….erm giving??), something else who knows I’ll edit it, oh yea….trauma, crying vampires
You stood in the middle of the room listening to the screaming match between your son and your husband. Your son had broke something, it wasn’t even expensive or sentimental but your husband and child have been boiling and keeping a tight seal on it so everything that came out was from a deeper wound.
“You know dad all you do is try to control me!!” Your son yelled, his nickname was Kay. It was a little thing you gave him after he would beg you to tell him the story of you, hero of faerun but your friend, Karlach, was the one he loved hearing about. “I control you? Don’t you even try that with me Kay! I’ve given you freedom totally appropriate for your age!” Your mind buzzes itself out of the conversation “Mom!” Your son looked at you, begged you to step in. You turned to Astarion who shook his head signaling for him to handle this. It was a respect thing. You don’t downplay Astarion in front of his son, not even if you disagree. It was so your son could understand the respect he gives you is also given to his father. So you stayed silent. “Seriously?!” Kay scoffed “yes seriously, you know you always have an excuse for doing anything kay it’s always ‘it wasn’t me dad’ ‘it’s not a big deal dad’ you need to be cautious and careful. What if that meant a lot to me?” Astarion asked, trying to be calmer for your son. “But it doesn’t so what?” Your son snapped “All you do is complain about how much you do for me. I hear about it all the time!” Your husband laughed tiredly “yea well I wish my son wasn’t some stubborn idiot!” You slapped Astarions shoulder “Hey, that’s eno-“
“well at least I’m not weak.” Your son's tongue was moving like a snake. It was going to sink his words into your husband like a fang. “That’s enough” you said but then Your husband pushed you “no, no tell me! What do you mean?!” Your husband walked over towards your son, your son stood up straight puffing his chest, his hands balled up and you felt that…rage. From both of them. Rage and pain. They were both looking at each other waiting. Your son decided he was going to take it farther. “La’zel told me about you dad. Before me, with the tadpoles, You and mom, but she also told me about Cazador.” You saw Astarions face twitch. “You just suffocate me dad! You tell me what to do, what not to do, how to act, stand, sit, behave. Not because your my father! You keep me under your foot because you don’t want me to be some victim like you.” The words slipped off his tongue like a slur and you were tempted to grab it. You stepped forward “Both of you! We’re all just tired and you are saying things you don’t mean.” You sighed one hand on Your son's head and the other on Astarions side “no…no he meant it. He meant all of it.” Astarions usual face of disgust and sadness stayed on his face “you have one more time to disrespect me, after that your going to uncle gale in water deep for winter. I pray to the gods that I do not rip the tongue of my only child right here.” You sighed your hands flopping over your face “both of you,please we’re all just tired.”
“Shut up! All you do is try to fix it. You can’t! He obviously thinks of me as some weak victim. Maybe he’s right.” Astarions voice shook and broke “Kay. Go prepare for bed.” Astarion hands shook as he pointed to the stairs watching your son walk off.
What a shit show
You had begun talking to yourself in your thoughts like The dream visitor just for some comfort? You turned to your Husband halfway out the door “Star where are you goin?” You chased after him “I’m going to kill that gith!” He stormed towards a traversal sigil “Woah! No no my love! Don’t do that, she is our friend, remember?!” You stood in front of the sigil. Your husband's striking eyes were like a force pushing you to move, but you stood there. You saw the way his eyes watered some tears trickling before he went full into a breakdown “How dare she? How Dare She!” He sobbed falling to his knees and you immediately were at his side shushing him “That wasn’t for him to know! Till he could understand! How could she release that to My child?! I’ll kill her!” He cried into your shoulder “shh..my star. She probably didn’t mean bad by it. She was telling him your story.” You rubbed his hair giving his droopy ears a small kiss “yea, a story about a broken man.” He gasped barely getting the sentence across “yes, a broken man. A man who pieced himself together took back his identity, met people, made freinds, learned that there is good in the world. Released vampires that suffered your same peril. And he wasn’t a victim. Wasn’t weak. He was a survivor and he was strong. One of the most fearless strongest of us all. And he didn’t see how selfless he was till the end. And seeing all the good he did all the people he saved all the lives he freed.” Astarion only sniffled looking up at you “then, our hero had another journey, love…learning what it is to be loved and not just lusted for. And after that scary journey he put himself in another challenge…being a father having a son.” You whispered in his ear it twitched against your cheek as it perked itself up Astarion still shook from his previous tears you sighed “My little star. You are magnificent.” You hugged him rocking him, kissing him down his cheek to his lips with his permission the small taste of salt slipped past your lips from his tears they continued to fall. “Hush my love…hush now.” You kissed under his eyes earning a small “hun” from him kissing away the tears pulling away and looking at those puppy eyes. You pecked him harder a few times hearing his sobs turn to giggles “There you are.” You said with a smile getting up pulling Astarion with you. “Come my star…do not let someone or something. Separate you and our son. Cazador doesn’t get to take this away from you too.” You said sternly looking into his eyes he nodded silently his small “I know..” how could he explain what Cazador did to him to his son…he already thinks he’s weak. That he probably isn’t even a man. “Darling” you said, pulling him away from those thoughts, Cazadors grip. “I’ll be right next to you.” You wiped some dirt off his cheek and he only leaned into your touch. You guys were a team.
———
The conversation was hard. Astarion had to take a few breaks to step out of the room. He didn’t want to cry in front of his child. But when he got through it your son had questions you let Astarion answer them which was his right. But when it was heavy Astarion would grip your hand almost like he had wylls contract on his tongue but he was asking for your help.
“Why didn’t you just leave when you had the chance?” Kay asked a little confused and maybe some of it went over his head. No worries. Astarion gripped your hand tight. “Well son, it wasn’t so easy. Cazador was the one who turned your father and so Cazador was his master. Your father tried to run once before me and him met but he was punished by spending years in a grave, alive. Scared” you rubbed astarions knuckles with your thumb soothing him subtly “it was to teach him…no…scare him, to make him never run off again. That his purpose was to serve cazador. And the abuse your father went through” A death grip on your hand. Warning you not to go into detail to not make him relive those restless nights. Those torturous days. You let go of his hand pulling him closer by his waist and he scooted comfortably against you. You rubbed his side comforting him. His hand was on your waist also, he trusted you. “…the abuse your father went through. Well it was horrible and horrific. That’s all you need to know.” You squeezed Astarion a little and he breathed a sigh of relief. Your son nodded climbing out of his bed and to your husband hugging him shaking and sobbing “I’m sorry dad I didn’t mean anything I said. I know your not a victim and none of it was your fault.” He sobbed his ears drooping in shame. He knew his father was strong and you knew the boy looked up to him. You were the only one to see it. Mother knows. Your son copied everything about his father from his attitude to his confidence and even some of his flaws…speaking out of anger. “oh my sweet little one…thank you it’s okay…and, I’m okay.” Astarion rubbed your son's tears off his face “I’m not an idiot right da?”
“No little one.” Astarion held him close and he looked up at you mouth saying ‘thank you’ he closed his eyes. You went to go eat it seemed inappropriate but you wanted them to have some time. Time to cry in each other's arms and realize that when you passed…and you will. They will only have each other.
/——
/——
You walked in your son's room seeing Astarion get up and walk to you “watching him sleep huh?” You chuckled. “Hush now, let's go to our room, yes?” He sighed tiredly and you just laughed picking him up on your back walking to the bedroom and laying him on the bed you helped him undress not in a rough sexual way. Just taking his clothes off as he lazily lifted his arms above his head “darling…” he whispered you were busy taking off hiss shoes and rubbing his feet pushing your thumb into the bottom of his left foot moving it up and down hearing him sigh. “Darling..” he whispered again and you took off his pants folding them neatly like how he showed you and feeling you kiss from his ankle up to his inner thigh nibbling softly on the tender skin “mm~ love..” he asked for your attention this time you acknowledged it “yes my star?” You said rubbing away the red mark on his thigh “will you please come cuddle with me already?” You smiled “of course.” You smiled before grabbing a few more nibbles and pecks on his tender thigh he giggled kicking you off “stop it, you’ll bruise me!” You kissed his hips and up his stomach crawling onto him his legs wrapping around your waist holding you down “behave…” he warned and you pouted whining into his stomach he rolled his eyes “darling let’s rest…please” and you looked down sadly “do my kisses not satisfy you anymore?” You sniffled and he covered his mouth to hide the awe. He said his eyes sparkling from Your cuteness “my love your kisses nurse me back to health. But it has been a…long long day baby. And all I need is for you to hold me and I do the same…you can kiss me the whole night while we cuddle.” He let his legs relax and you smiled laying next to him pulling him close his back to your chest and he got into a fetal position “there just perfect” he purred
…..
“Love, did you just bite me?”
….
“no.”
———-
Hopefully you enjoy this guys like you guys enjoyed other papa Astarion but erm. Idk this is a bit angsty. I think it’s easy to write good fun parts but I always find I like the conflict and the resolve and I thought it would be important to have Astarion explain his past to his child unfortunately because of la’zel and her literal attitude she didn’t think before saying anything and well yea but it was out of pure love and admiration for Astarions perseverance and strength but it was supposed to be on his own time and I think that’s what made him so upset…I’m saying this like I didn’t write it.
#writing#fanfiction#x reader#fanfic#x female reader#baldur's gate#bg3#baldurs gate 3#astarion x tav#bg3 astarion#astarion ancunin x reader#astarion#astarion imagine#bg3 tav
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Hello, I would love to see more of your snarky millionaire villain and "not wanting to owe anyone money" hero. Please,,,, it was immaculate,,,, I beg I love it so much. It was such a wonderful read. I wish to see more of them 🥺 ty <333
here's part one of this story.
and ahh ty! now, onto part two:
Life after the villain's... generosity... is strange. The hero finds that they're no longer so stressed about paying rent or having enough groceries. They're well-fed and well-rested, for the first time in several months (years). The hero doesn't know how to feel about it all: they're frustrated, wary, exhausted, angry, ashamed. They have never been comfortable with accepting assistance, and the enormous sum of money forced onto them by the villain is an assistance they're entirely unable to refuse (literally). They remember how futile their attempts at resistance felt, as the villain firmly steered them down the sidewalk and forced them to walk in their bank and cash in the check. It was humiliating. They felt their eyes stinging with unshed tears, but they hid their guilt and remorse until they were alone behind the walls of their apartment. Those feelings don't leave them, even as time passes and the memory of that night blurs around the edges.
“You’re a strange one." The hero is torn from their thoughts and they instinctively bristle at the sudden, unexplained voice. When their gaze catches on the villain lurking in the corner of the room, they relax a little. And once they realize that they've relaxed, they scold themself for thinking their enemy's presence could be anything but unnerving.
“…Thanks?” The hero eventually remembers to reply. It seems that the villain has broken into their apartment just to speak to them. Either they have something important to discuss, or their enemy has too much time on their hands. The hero suspects the latter.
“Wasn’t a compliment,” the villain says. The hero rolls their eyes as their enemy continues. “Most people wouldn't need to be blackmailed into accepting a rather large sum of money."
Ah, this again. The hero was foolish to think their enemy would ever let them forget their... arrangement. “I’m not like most people,” they decide to say, after struggling to come up with a response for a few moments.
“Fair enough,” the villain sighs, as if that was a foregone conclusion.
“If I’m being honest,” the hero continues, their mouth moving before their mind can stop it, “Your, ah, gift…" The absolutely outrageous sum of money, the hero thinks, "...gave me some much needed vacation time.” Indeed it did. They enjoyed a few vacation days last week, which was quite the rarity. Not to mention the sudden stability and security they were awarded.
“Really?” The villain asks, crossing their arms over their chest and raising an eyebrow at them. They look frighteningly at ease, despite the indisputable fact that they're standing in a space that isn't theirs.
“Yes,” the hero answers. “I took a day off work for the first time last week.” That statement slips out before they can stop it. Immediately, they feel the villain's gaze focus on them intently.
“The first time?” The villain asks, a strange expression on their face. It looks to be a mix of disbelief and indignation. They cross their arms over their chest. “You’re joking.” They're performing a strange balancing act between boredom and interest. One moment, the villain is listening with rapt attention; the next, they're looking around the room as if they'd rather be literally anywhere else in the world.
Meanwhile, the hero suddenly knows they’ve committed a grave mistake. They remain silent, knowing any further explanation will only make things worse. The villain studies them for a long moment, and even as they continue speaking, it's clear that this conversation will occur again at a later date.
“I’m surprised you didn’t donate the money,” the villain hums, a smile working its way onto their face. The hero nearly sighs in relief at the change in subject.
“I think we both know I tried,” the hero huffs, not realizing their enemy's remark is a trap until it's too late. They engineered that verbal trap just to applaud their own ego.
“Ah, yes,” the villain smirks, their lips parting to reveal sharp teeth. “I blacklisted all of the prominent charities in the area. Rather ingenious of me, I have to admit.” They hold up their hand and look at their nails, before flipping it around to pick at something under their nail.
“There’s so much you could be doing with that kind of time and money,” the hero says with a shake of their head, resisting the urge to bury their head in their hands. They've done far too much agonizing about this for their own good. At some point, they're forced to accept the reality of the situation. Besides, the more attention they devote to the villain's strange and selfish philanthropy, the less energy they have for the more important things.
“But alas,” the villain sighs dramatically, wrapping an arm around their shoulder. The hero stiffens and pushes them off. “What has the world done for me?” They muse.
The hero has had too many circular conversations on the same topic to fall for the bait once more. They know they cannot change their enemy’s mindset, no matter how hard they try. They settle for throwing their hands in the air to indicate their helplessness. The villain seems surprised at their evident agreeableness, as they raise their brows before mimicking the gesture.
"What can we do?" The villain shrugs. "We're mere chess pieces in a far broader battle between good and evil." That's a gross oversimplification, but it still holds some degree of truth. Despite the fact that their enemy's question is clearly rhetorical, the hero's mind latches onto it and tries to pick it apart. What can they do, if they are a mere tool for someone else's use?
"We can hope we're not meant to be sacrifices," the hero eventually responds.
"Touché," the villain acquiesces. A slight smile rises on their face as they take in the space around them, evaluating the hero's apartment design with a critical eye. Eventually, they take a deep breath and announce their departure. "Well, while I'd love nothing more than to stay here and pester you, I'm afraid I've worn out my welcome."
"You were never welcome in the first place," the hero mutters darkly. The hero never invited their enemy over, after all.
Unfortunately, their remark only serves to amuse their enemy. "Now you're getting it," the villain grins, flashing them a mocking thumbs-up before promptly turning down the hall and disappearing from sight. The hero stares at the empty space they occupied for several seconds before finally submitting to the urge to bury their head in their hands in disbelief and irritation.
©2024, @defectivehero | @defectivevillain, All Rights Reserved. Reblogs are greatly appreciated—just don't steal or share outside of Tumblr, please.
lol these two are great
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