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chloeangelic · 10 months

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Belong to me, I: Chosen

Line cook Joel x waitress reader

Line cook Joel AU masterlist

Summary: You desperately want a baby and hope that your grumpy coworker will help make your dream a reality.

Warnings: Smut, yearning, mild angst, age gap (Joel is 40, reader in her late 20s), mild brat taming, creampie, breeding kink, size kink, description of glass related injury/blood, social smoking, dom Joel (not degrading), ovulation sex, unprotected PIV, mutual pining, rough sex, size kink, ass play.

A/N: Posted a day early cause of the overwhelming response on the masterlist🥺🤍 I'm turning this into an AU that I can post to at random and just kinda use as a creative free space like I did with this, so there will be more parts :))

Word count: 4.8k Rating: 18+

You had a dream one night.

A dream that you were holding a child, your child, a little baby who came from you, whose home was your body for the overwhelming majority of her life. You held her in your arms, cradled her, ran the very tip of your finger over her little nose, stroked her soft cheek and looked into her eyes, seeing yourself in their reflection.

You had dropped her off at your friend’s house to watch her while you went and visited your parents, but when you returned, you could not find her. You searched and searched, asked every person you came across if they had seen her, but nobody had. And when you woke up, you felt that same gut wrenching anxiety over your missing child that you felt in the dream. Like she was still out there, but you had no way of getting to her.

And ever since then, you’ve felt a vacancy in your heart somehow, a pull towards something intangible, something you know you will love and cherish with your whole heart and take care with all the energy you can muster, as soon as it is in your hands.

Yearning.

A deep, almost excruciating yearning for a baby, the baby in that dream, a baby you will not have anytime soon if you are dependent on the presence of a husband or even a boyfriend to provide you with one. For as long as you can remember, you have wanted to be a mother, and it feels as though your opportunity is slipping through your fingers, even at your young age, as you watch friend after friend go off with their significant other and establish families, and you’re still single, not even looking for a special someone.

You want what they have, unbearably so, and have gotten to a point where you think you might crumble if you never get the chance to raise a child, but the idea of dating does not appeal to you, and you would rather just do it all yourself.

One time your friend asked you, “If someone put a gun to your head and told you that you have to have a kid with someone right now, who would you choose?”. You didn’t have an answer at the time, but you do now. It’s been simmering in the back of your mind for a while; the answer to that question. You’ve been thinking about it a lot lately, about how it feels like the right time for you to have this baby you so desperately want.

During the afternoons and evenings, you serve tables at a busy restaurant downtown. It’s not the world’s most interesting job, but you think you’re generally well liked at that establishment, you’re friends with everyone, and the shifts go by relatively quickly.

You walk in through the large doors, waving to Maddy as she escorts a couple to their table, swinging past the bar stools, making your way to the back office to take off your jacket and slip into your heels, giving your hair a quick look over in the mirror before you walk into the kitchen.

And there he is - the answer to your friend’s question. Too tall for the countertops and always hunched over, too broad for the narrow hallways at the back of the house. Big, very big, so muscular, with shoulders and biceps so large you wonder if he spends all his free time working out. Grumpy, never in what one would call a 'good mood', convinced that approving or disapproving grunts count as full answers when someone asks him something.

Joel, a scowling and silent mountain of a man.

Sometimes you sneak out during his break just to chat him up behind the restaurant, even stealing smokes from your coworker to give him a reason to spend more time with you. His scent is intoxicating every time you sit there huddled next to him, especially when it’s cool out and you shove your entire body into the side of his arm and his thigh, his skin as hot as a furnace.

Even his sweat, at the end of the worst shift one can possibly imagine, smells good. He smells like cologne and fresh laundry and what you presume to be combo shampoo and body wash considering he doesn’t give much of a fuck about anything that isn’t his daughter and he’s not exactly what one would call vain.

It seems, however, as if he gives a little bit of a fuck about you.

Sometimes it even feels like he looks out for you.

And you wouldn’t have had this suspicion had it not been for the fact that you brutally cut your hand on a shard of glass a few months back when a vase tumbled and you stupidly tried to catch it. You looked at your bloody hand, heard the snap of Joel’s fingers and a few commands before you were suddenly in his truck on the way to the ER.

He sat there with you, pressing a wad of gauze to the cut until you were called in by the doctor, waited until you came out, then stopped at the pharmacy to get an excess of things you might need, and drove you home. He even stayed with you until you were fed and passed out watching a movie on your couch.

After that day, you’ve felt like his eyes are always on you, his scowl seeming more concerned than menacing, his hands suddenly there to catch you every time you’re about to trip over yourself. Something about the feeling of being protected by him has made your heart and ovaries twist around themselves, making that yearning for a baby incredibly urgent.

You want his baby now, whether he’s present or not, and you’ve decided that you’re gonna ask him for a little favor when ovulation comes around and you feel slick and needy and desperate for his come.

Which just so happens to be tonight.

The restaurant seems to get busier the second you step into the dimly lit lounge, sending you back and forth between the kitchen and your tables more times than you can count, trying to think of how to formulate yourself, how not to scare him off.

You eventually check the time and see that it’s close to Joel’s usual forced break time, and decide that you might as well take your own break now too, needing to speak to him as soon as possible. So you hear the clicks of your heels as you nearly run through the kitchen, grab the lighter from the office and push open the doors to see him already sitting there outside, his face tilted up so the sun hits his skin and bounces off the silver in his otherwise brown hair.

“You mind?” you ask as you close the door, and he nods for you to sit down next to him, already reaching down to commit coworker theft. It always feels casual, calm, even relaxing in some way, to sit out here with him, but tonight you’re on the edge, knowing he’ll never speak to you again if your request falls flat.

He puts the cigarette between his lips and looks at you while he waits for you to light it, but your hands tremble around the lighter as you try to hold it up. His eyes narrow for a moment, then his hands come up to hold around yours, making them disappear under his large palms, holding them steady and looking into your eyes until the flame catches and he pulls back. “What’s on your mind?” he asks, his accent slurring the words together slightly.

You have a speech ready, an explanation about this longtime want and need and yearning to become a mother, a rationale for why you’re ready, why you want to do this as a single woman in her late twenties, an excuse for why you don’t want to go to a clinic and find a donor who’s a Harvard graduate in his early thirties.

Why it is you want him, Joel, to be the one to give this to you, and how he doesn’t have to do anything, emotionally or physically or financially, when you finally get what you want.

But your plan falls flat as you open your mouth, your gaze locked to his dark eyes. “I wanna have a baby” is all that comes out, breathy and longing and absolutely not casual like you planned.

You watch as he flicks the ashes off the cigarette and takes a drag, looking at you with an unreadable expression, then exhaling away from you before he says, “Sweetheart.. The fuck does that gotta do with me?”.

You roll your eyes at him, never threatened or intimidated or insulted by his tone. There is something you find oddly charming about his ability to be grumpy for hours on end and seemingly never cheer up, any pleasant surprise met with the raise of his eyebrows and a slow nod. “I wanna have a baby, now, I don’t wanna wait to meet some prince charming and get married and do all that shit.. I’m happy raising it by myself, I-”

“And?” he asks then, the creases around his eyes getting deeper as a look of confusion creeps up on his face, “Why exactly are you tellin’ me this and not your girlfriends?”. You take a moment to figure out how to damage control, how to reel the situation back in and not scare him off any more, while you watch the smoke rising from between his two fingers, one thick arm resting over his knee.

“I want you to get me pregnant, Joel” you finally say, running your hand up his thigh, unable to cover the expanse of it with your fingers splayed out, and the feel of his muscle tensing under your hands makes you clench around yourself, warm wetness starting to seep out into your panties, “Please? I promise I won’t waste your time”.

He’s frozen, looking at your innocent expression and the subtle slouch in your shoulders. It’s too fucking hard to resist you, your doe eyes and little pout, and there’s something in your tone that makes his shock die down quickly, getting replaced by a strange feeling of flattery. A feeling he’s not used to. Not to mention the disbelief he feels at the prospect of you wanting to get in bed with him.

He can surely find it in himself do this for you without getting attached, without worrying about this child day in and day out, or about you. He hopes he can, hopes that he's too old to worry now. He won’t bother you, he’ll stay out of your business unless you need something. It’s an act of kindness from him, really, and it’s about time he does something nice for someone other than Sarah, who’s been the only one on the receiving end of all his care and love for the past sixteen years. Besides, you're a nice girl, why wouldn't he want to do something for you?

And more importantly, why on earth would he pass up the opportunity to fuck you? To have you under him, to see what’s hiding beneath those black pants stretched to their absolute limit by the thickness of your ass, to hear what you sound like when you come, to know what you taste like, to know how your lips feel on his, not just on his cheek when you thank him for putting food aside for you.

You’re too pretty and too young for him, he knows that, he’s known that since the first time he felt that little flutter in his chest at the sound of you calling his name. Now all he can do is cook for you, leave it under tightly wrapped aluminum foil on the desk in the back office so it stays warm, knowing you’ll look for it there when you run away from your shift in search of something to eat, with a post it note on top, your name sharpied on it, waiting for you.

Just like he waits for you, waits for the moment he sees you every day and hears you say his name again. Hey Joel, the same as always, nothing special, but bubbly when everyone else seems intimidated by him.

He has a little crush on you, a massive one actually, one he hates to admit that he's had for a while now. Ever since you sat out on the stoop behind the restaurant with him for the first time and shared a cigarette you stole from Jermaine. The guy thinks he hides the pack well, but sometimes when Joel comes out to get some air and you’re the only other one who shared the idea, you fish it out from under the steps and slip one out, seldom enough to where he’s sure not to notice.

You teased him for something that first time, and he can’t remember what. A year has gone by, but the sound of your giggle at his disapproval has rattled around in his mind every day since. You frequently tease him, wait for him to roll his eyes, then attempt to tickle him before he grabs your wrist and holds it tight until his break is over, and he pulls you up to your feet, with his other hand on your waist, letting you in the door first before he shuts it behind him.

One time, when he held your eyes for a little longer than normal, he considered asking you out, but thought better of it and closed his mouth as soon as it opened. He wonders why you're single, how it's possible for a man not to want to make you his, why-

“Fuck”, he jumps a little as he lets go of the cigarette and flicks his wrist frantically, trying to soothe the part of his fingers burnt by the ashes creeping down to his skin as he sat there speechless and not paying attention.

“Well?” you ask as if nothing happened, watching his muscles flex under his t-shirt, “What do you say?”.

“Jesus” he whispers, a contemplative shake of his head as his eyes dart around. He should ask why you want him to do it, should suggest every other dumbass working in this place, should tell you no, that he’s too old for you and you’re too beautiful and full of life and too good for this place. But he can’t find it in himself to pass up this chance, and he knows he would fuck you right. He would be good to you. He wants to be good to you.

“That’s all you want?” he asks dryly, then a long exhale, staring into your eyes, “You want me to fuck you?”. Ten years ago he might’ve been more subtle, but he's lived too much since then, and trying to find ways to sugarcoat what needs to be said feels like a waste of his time. The sound of his deep voice makes you shudder.

“I just need you to come inside me,” you purr, nervous as hell all of a sudden, wrapping your finger in his hair, ”And I’ve wanted you to fuck me for a long time, so.. You can do whatever you want to me”. He glances at your lips as you talk, shoulders shifting under his t-shirt and a swallow passing through his throat. “So you’ll do it?” you ask after a moment.

He’s not passing up on this chance, already half hard at the mere idea of being inside you and counting how many goddamn seconds he has left on his shift. All he does is nod in response, his eyes going a little wide. “Thanks, Joel” you say then, as you stand up and brush off your pants, “I’ll send you my address, I need you over tonight, okay?”. You lean down to place a kiss on his cheek and disappear back inside.

He stays sitting out there a few minutes longer than he’s supposed to, regretting not jerking off in the shower that morning, running his hand down his face and trying to figure out how he can make himself last longer than a minute.

More than anything, it’s strange to see him like this, to see a new side of someone you’ve been around so much. It’s difficult to conceptualize the side of him that is private, intimate, personal. You've thought about him as just a man sometimes, not a coworker, and wondered what he might be like in situations like these. In bed. You wonder if you’ll see him differently after this, if it’ll be impossible to look him in the eyes at work when you’ve felt the size and shape of his cock, when you know what he sounds like when he comes, how he tastes, what he likes.

“So, uh-” he says, as you sit on his lap with his feet planted on the floor at the edge of your bed, “What's the best way to do this?”. He corrects himself after a second, “How do you wanna do this?”. He has his hands around your waist, big and warm, and your arms are wrapped around his neck as you lightly tug at his curls.

“I didn't really think that far” you giggle, and he chuckles softly, likely picking up on your nerves.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” he asks then.

“Um, yeah, sure” is all you manage to say before you feel his hand around the back of your neck, holding the weight of your head as he kisses you like you've never been kissed before. The scratch of his mustache against your skin is oddly soothing, and his lips are soft, his tongue molten and slippery as it sweeps into your mouth. You exhale into him until your lungs are empty, becoming entirely pliant in his hold, one hand steadying your back as you try to keep from collapsing into his chest.

A whimper escapes your throat, and he whispers, I got you, as he lays you down on the bed and rests his weight on his elbows, hovering over you and spreading your legs. His clothed cock pushes into you as he rolls his hips, forcing more of those little whimpers out and you can feel your pulse deep down where you buck your hips to grind on him.

He undresses you carefully, not leaving a single item of clothing on, wanting to see your naked form. He rolls you onto your stomach and takes the opportunity to let his hands and lips and tongue explore every part of your backside, from your ankles to your ass to your shoulders, giving a little extra attention to your plush cheeks, that he pulls apart and then lands a swat to on one side, making you giggle as he soothes his hand over the mark, already starting to sting from his strength.

You roll onto your back again and start to claw at his shirt. He reaches back to pull it off, revealing the muscular upper body you’ve wondered about for what seems like forever - years, now. A strange smile tugs at your lips as you look at him, at his arm flexing as he opens your knees to spread your legs, and he leans down to kiss you as he drags his knuckles up and down your center.

He pushes two fingers into you and you moan, loudly, too loudly. He shushes you, kisses you again as you writhe under him and grind against his hand until he finds the right spot, the one that makes you arch your back and start begging him to fuck you. He slides his fingers out and looks down to see a thick, glossy string hanging between his two of his digits, raising an eyebrow in what you assume is awe. “Told you I needed you tonight” you purr.

He huffs a little in response, “I can tell”.

He immediately finds your clit with the pads of his fingers, and rubs, slowly then fast, slowly then fast, as he unbuckles his belt with his other hand and shucks off his jeans, then his boxers, and lays on your side with his hard cock resting against your hip.

You start to squirm as he pushes his thick fingers inside you again, curls them a few times and slips them out, going back to massage your clit. “I know” he coos, “You want more, huh?”. All you can do is moan and nod, feeling your orgasm starting to pool at the bottom of your spine.

“It's okay, just let me take my time with you”, he rubs you a little faster, firmer, as he watches your breathing get erratic, “Wanna fuck you right”. He wants to watch you come, has been fantasizing about it for such a long time, wants to see it and hear it and feel it. “I’m gonna give you my cock soon, okay?” he murmurs, “Don't want it to be painful for you, my girl, need you to come for me first”. And something about his words gives you the last push you need, making you come as you whimper his name over and over.

He gets between your legs then, knocking his knee against yours to open you up, and leans over, taking his cock in his hand and nudging the leaking head into your opening. You can feel your thick, slippery wetness spill onto him, and you hear him grunt, fisting his length a few times with your slick and pushing in slowly, stretching you obscenely and filling you to the brim before he’s fully inside.

You shouldn’t be surprised at the overwhelming size of it, considering how he towers over you and is the only person you know who makes you feel tiny, but his cock rubs against every soft spot inside you and stimulates every nerve in your body, reaching a depth nobody has ever touched before.

He fucks you with deep strokes, reaching all the way to the end of you before he withdraws halfway and pushes back in, breathing hard and squeezing his hands around your hips so tightly you can feel the marks forming. You need him even deeper. “Harder, Joel, please, please“ you beg, “I’m so fucking wet and you feel so good, I- please, oh god, please”. Your voice is filled with desperation, and he wants to hear it every day for the rest of his life, the sound of you on your knees for him, wanting him and everything he can give you.

“Relax.” he says sternly, shoving you into the mattress with a thrust and holding you there with his strong hands, trapping you under him and forcing you to stay still as his cock slides in and out smoothly.

“I can’t, just hurry up, please, fuck me faster, I need it” you nag then, whiny and annoying, snapping your fingers.

He pauses then, leans over to stare down into your eyes, “Do you want my come or not?”.

“Ugh, yes”, you groan, letting out a few soft grunts as you try to shift around in his grasp and push down onto him harder somehow.

“Settle then”, his voice is stern again, commanding but patient, as if he has all the time in the world.

“Come on, Joel”, you stretch your back and try to escape his gaze, digging your nails into his shoulders and feeling your walls fluttering around him.

His hand wraps around your throat then, and his face is close to yours, that dark gaze unrelenting and demanding your attention. “Settle down” he says calmly, and holds you pinned right there until he feels your body relaxing, your slick dripping down his shaft and your nipples tickling his chest.

He flips you over and pulls you up and onto your knees, arms stretched out over your head as he slides all the way into you and the pressure on your cervix makes you try to squirm away. A useless endeavor. His hands rove around your ass cheeks and you hear a quiet shit above you, followed by an equally low fuck me as he squeezes your flesh, pulls it apart, then spits onto your asshole.

You feel him smear it into your skin with his thumb, whining at how he teases you, pushing his thumb into your tight hole slowly while he jacks himself with his other hand. You plead again, a long, drawn out please, Joel, then another oh god, please, a last more, more for good measure, and then he’s pushing the head of his cock into you, filling you with his thickness and finally inching his thumb into your ass. The intensity is overwhelming, and your eyes roll back as another orgasm nears.

“Give me one more, baby, come on” he coos as he reaches around and rubs your clit.

You respond, barely coherent and not wanting him to stop, “I don't- I don’t think it'll determine if it takes or not.. How many times I c-come”.

He gives you a few strokes, overwhelming and hard and squelching with your arousal before he says, “I read in a fuckin’ article that it helps, or, I don’t know, something”.

You shift your eyes around a little, wanting to laugh, “You read an article saying that orgasms increase your likelihood of conceiving?”.

“Just shut up and let me make you come, sweetheart,” he drawls, “Stop talkin’ so much”. His voice is low and husky as he rubs the back of your hip with one thumb and the other sinks deeper into your ass as you tighten around it.

“Why?” you ask, breathy and whiny, “All I need is your come, I- I’m not expecting-”.

He cuts you off quickly, whispering, “Jesus…”.

“I’m not gonna have sex with you if you don't enjoy it, okay?” he says, “So just shut up and take my cock like a good girl, I know you can, I know you want it”. His hand snakes up to find your tit, squeezing it before rubbing your nipple with two of his fingers.

“Besides, I know it makes you feel good, you can't hide it," he runs his palm down your back, smacks your ass firmly, then grabs it tight to stop the recoil, “You're about to soak my cock, I can tell.. Gettin’ all tense and shit”. He lifts your torso with his hand on your sternum, pulling you up and into him, shoving his face into your neck so you can listen to his growls while he fucks you.

Your orgasm hits you quite suddenly, and your head falls onto his shoulder as you pant. “How does it feel when I make you come? Huh, little bunny?”. You can’t answer, too blissed out and too fucked out to think, only mustering up a mumbled, uhhh. “Use your words now” he says, and flips you onto your back.

He lines himself up and slams back in, folding your legs and pushing your thighs into your chest as he pounds you, “Come on, baby, tell me, how’s it feel to come all over my cock?”. You grab at the muscles of his arms, his shoulders and his chest, trying to get words out but only managing an incoherent mess of moans. So good, Joel, so good, you whimper.

Then he wraps your legs around his waist and slips his arm under your back, and supports himself on his fist right beside your head, lifting you up to pound you harder, deeper, with more force as his thrusts gradually slow down and he breathes heavily, staring down at how your tits slide up and down your chest. “Say you want me to come inside you”, his voice is strained, and you can tell he’s holding back by the way his cock twitches.

You take a deep breath, and coo, as softly as you can, “Want you to be my baby daddy, Joel”, and watch his face contort, his eyes closing and feel his arm tightening its grip around you. You moan a little, eyes rolling back at the intensity. “Come inside me, please,” you beg, “Wanna be full of you, want you to give me a baby, your baby”.

He groans at that, then pulls you up into his chest so closely you can feel the sweat dripping down from his hair and onto your skin, and his cock pulsating as he fills you with his come. You can tell it's a lot by how he throbs inside you incessantly, and moans, long and ragged, while he digs his face into the crook of your neck.

He lifts your hips up, staying buried inside you, and shoves a pillow under you as a mix of his come and your slick runs down between your asscheeks, onto the cover. He wraps his hand around your throat again and growls, into your ear, “You’re mine now, little thing, all mine”.

I have ditched my taglists, due to the majority of tags not working, and have created a notifications blog instead. Follow Angelic Notifs and turn your notifications on if you want my new fics served directly to you!

#joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #the last of us smut #joel miller #dom!joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x you #brat tamer!joel #joel miller one shot

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virgincels · 5 months

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STAY SOFT, GET EATEN !

ft. leon s. kennedy x gn!reader

tags. p in v, incest, dub-con that is basically non-con idk

note. unedited cuz i got lazy omg. umm ignore typos :3 sorry my writing is so jolty lately im finding it hard to write so it’s all coming off very clunky but :3 rbs n feedback appreciated !! this is like not actually that smutty I’m sorry 💔 if u see me reusing bits from other old fics pretend it’s new

tumblr has started to remove fics that use tw non-con, tw incest and any nsfw tags in general from the tags. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags so i can have the same reach as other authors, please understand that this fic contains dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.

Your dad is hot, an indisputable fact. He’s a total babe, kinda looks like he should’ve been in Baywatch during his prime, got a rack that rivals C. J. Parker’s. Ever since you hit twelve, and the girls in your class suddenly got all boy crazy, you’ve been hearing nonstop about how cute dad is.

Sleepovers were held at yours so they could get a glimpse of him, and your dad might be friendly, but he’s clumsy with conversation, not much of a talker, so he made himself scarce. Then came the slew of questions, you think it was Ashley Graham, the one that didn’t know how to quit it. Airheaded with eyes like chipped peridot.

Hey, where’s your mom? Is she still around, I’ve never heard about her? What kinda girl does your dad like?

My dad doesn’t like kids, freak.

He might, and I’m not a kid! I mean, I turn thirteen in January. I bought a bra at PINK the other day, I even got measured, the lady said I’m an A cup.

Even my dad's are bigger than that, loser.

I’m, like, so not a loser! My mom said I could get a boob job when I turn sixteen, and by then your dad will be, like, what? Thirty?

He’ll be forty-three, dumbass.

Yeah, forty-three, that’s perfect. We can date then as long as you don’t have a mom. I did see a picture on your desk, but that’s your sister right? ‘Cause if that’s your mom, she never picks you up from school, so she’s either dead or they broke up or she hates you, right? I’m so right, aren’t I?

You’re wrong, stupid. My mom just works a lot.

Boo, I totally thought she was dead, well, whatever, if they break up by the time I hit sixteen, I’ll totally be your new step-mom.

For a lack of better words, you wanted that bitch dead. She meant well, you’ve just never met someone so out of touch, the type of girl that hands out Chanel handbags at the food bank.

A few years later, when you turned eighteen, it was Ada Wong, you had this co-dependent, whirlwind friendship that had you by the throat. She was cool, a few years older, and everyone thought she was hot. You were lame, and wanted everyone to think you were hot. What you don’t understand is how on earth it ended with her hand down the front of your dad’s pants at your graduation party. He was totally out of it too, she took advantage of a poor, drunk old man, and the worst part about it? That wasn’t what made you mad. Not that she touched him when he was slurring, tripping over his own feet, you were mad ‘cause she got to touch him in the first place.

When you tell your counsellor, I have a crush on my dad, she falters. She’s this older lady that reminds you of your Auntie Claire, they have the same button nose, and that makes it harder to talk to her. She presents herself professionally, and takes herself a little too seriously, also in the way Auntie Claire does at times. Bitch thinks she’s a psychologist. She has an office tucked right into the corner of your university’s humanities department.

“Well, is your dad absent?” She starts, chews on the lid of her ballpoint pen, the type you get in a pack of two hundred. See, if she were a real psychologist, she’d have a fancy one, with runny ink, and a metallic barrel.

“No, my dad raised me.” Your lips twitch upwards, wanting to scowl at her. ‘Cause this is your thirteenth session, and she knows how close you are to dad.

“Well, then, has your dad ever hit you?” She blinks real slow like it hurts to blink.

“What? No, never.” You’ve asked me these questions before, you stuck-up cow.

“Well, then,” Her eye twitches, you think she might report you to the authorities for being a freak, “Has he ever behaved inappropriately with you?”

The worst your dad has done is ask if you’re on birth control, only once, and he was rightfully worried. “Never, he would never do that.” I don’t know if you’ve been listening, I’m the one that wants to sit on his dick.

She taps her nail on the oak desk, popping open a button on her blouse. Some counsellor she is, mouth drying up ‘cause you have a crush on your dad. “Listen, if it’s not me overstepping boundaries, or being impolite, I’d like to refer you to a therapist.”

No fucking way. Jackpot. You’ve been waiting three months for this, all it took for her to cut the crap was an incestual confession? Although, you really do need to get that fixed, there’s this part of your brain, the cerebellum you believe, that’s been cut out and replaced by a hunk of meat that resembles your father. Whoever did it made a shoddy malpractical mess that you’re left to clean up with scarce supplies and medical knowledge.

“I'd really appreciate that.” You tell her, mustering your toothiest of grins as you pack up your shit and pass through the doorway, never to turn back to advice that consists solely of ‘talk it out’ and ‘use daily affirmations’ and other baseline shit they cover in Cosmopolitan articles you could read for free.

Therapy turns out to be no help. Not ‘cause of the content of the session, this is your first one actually, more ‘cause your therapist resembles dad. A little more on the polished side than your father, with salt and pepper hair that would look so good on him. Leon refuses though, to grow old, that is, to look anything more than thirty - he’s far past that, you think he’s looked old ever since you were born.

It’s going to be a distraction, you might leap out of your seat and fuck this man half to death if he scoots his chair any closer, if he keeps scratching his chin in the way dad does. There’s a copy of Nineteen-Eighteen-Four on the desk behind him, the one with the fabric cover to be specific, embellished by tiny labouring hands to sit pretty on the best-seller shelf in some overpriced independent bookstore. More importantly, it’s the copy that collects dust on your dad’s bedside, the one he insists to have read, but the pages still have that fresh scent to them, and not a single one is dog-eared.

There’s a ring on his ring finger, just like dad’s, and that might be a stretch, ‘cause every married man has a ring on their ring finger. Still reminds you of dad though. His is gold, and dad’s is silver ‘cause mom likes silver. You like silver ‘cause it looks pretty on dad.

He introduces himself, his way of speech is refined, and you can tell he thinks before he speaks unlike dad. Leon is clunky with words, oftentimes crude without realising. Cancellation and no-show fees, your rights, confidentiality, he runs you through all of it - the whole time you’re focused on his lips, the prominent curve of his Cupid’s bow, the double lip line that makes them appear fuller from afar. Just like dad’s lips.

The receptionist frowns when you request to see another therapist, then she begins to click, click, click away at her keyboard. She stops midway to file her nails, then she pops her gum and gives a very simple shake of the head, ponytail moving with her. You doubt the slow bitch even tried, so you make your way home, a heat in your stomach that refuses to fizzle out, an ache so deep only dad could reach it. With his dick, obviously.

Dad’s keys jingle and you hear wedding bells. You check the time, he’s home early, he toes off his shoes and tucks them into the cubby hole shelf mom placed by the door. She’d be down his throat if he left them scattered for her to trip over again.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Leon smiles kindly, the same smile that’s seen you throughout your life. The one he gave you when he first held you, the one he gave you when you fell off your bike, and he brushed the crumbly gravel off your knees and kissed the tender scrapes on both. When you graduated, and he held back tears but acted all tough about it, he smiled all the same.

“Hi, dad.” The one you give in return is meek, the apples of your cheeks refusing to raise upwards into your eye-line.

“Oh,” Dad is perceptive, he throws his jacket over the bannister, keys tucked into one of it’s unzipped pocket - they dangle haphazardly, and you’re sure he’ll forget about them and toss that jacket in the washing machine, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You shrug Leon’s hand off of your shoulder when he takes the seat adjacent to you. It’s cruel, the expression on his face sours, your heart lurches. Making him upset is your farthest intention, you just don’t know how much skin to skin contact you can handle with him.

Nonetheless, it was the wrong move, ‘cause he shuffles closer, “Hey now, don’t push me out, what’s wrong?”

“Dad, I promise, nothing's up.” You aim to soothe him with your words, but his agitation grows, your discomfort is palpable - he tastes it on his tongue, it’s the blood in the back of his throat. There’s no getting past him. “Therapy was bad.” No harm in telling a lie or two.

“Therapy,” Leon waves his hand through a nonexistent cloud of smoke, “You don’t need that.”

Here we go. All you need is a hug from dad! A kiss from dad. And you’ll be all better, sweetheart.

“I do, dad.” You glare at him, he smooths his thumb over your wrinkled brow and your heart drops to your ass. Dad needs to stop touching you before you touch him back, that’s a silent threat, your fingers twitch to grab him, mould his soft flesh into the shape of your fingertips.

“I did a good job with you,” Leon states, “My dad—“

My dad hit me, my dad threw me through a glass table once, busted my ass and made me crawl through the shattered glass and then he set wild dogs on me - your grandma just watched - I been through all that and I don’t need to go to therapy. He says something along those lines, albeit less cinematically thrilling.

“You did a very good job with me,” You nod, reassure him in a maternal tone almost ‘cause all dads are children that need to be praised, “It’s not your fault, dad, I love you lots.” Well, it is, for raising you so well, maybe he raised you too well. Or maybe you’re just a bit sick in the head, or maybe it’s his fault for looking how he looks.

“Then you don’t need therapy,” He sinks back into his dent in the leather couch, “You just need a hug, bring it in, kid.”

No, no, no. You do your best to fend him off, all for his own sake, but he draws you close to his chest, smothers you by pushing your face right into the dip. He smells good, cologne gradually having worn off as the day progressed, the slightly tangy undertone of his sweat coming through.

“And a kiss.” He coos at you, pinches your cheek, clicks his tongue in an attempt to coax you.

God, no. Don’t kiss me. Don’t do that— Mwah! Smack bang on your forehead as he tips your chin upwards, blinking down at you with sticky toffee lashes. And you, stupidly, in your lovestruck haze, pull him in to place the most disgusting, sloppy kiss on his lips - one that does little to hide your ardour for dad.

Leon’s neck almost snaps with how fast he pulls back, then he stares at you open-mouthed, and you hate to say it, but you’d kiss his lips swollen again. A man of his age, especially your father, should not be pretty or doll-lipped, but he is and you hate it. He’s your hamartia of sorts.

“Sweetheart…” Dad shambles aimlessly through his words, umming and ahing.

“Oh, god, you totally think I’m a freak, right?” You take your hands off of his chest, where they had been firmly planted, giving him a real good squeeze without even realising. “Dad, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, it just came out, you were just really close to me and I got nervous.” Now you sound like him, a lack of conversational tact is exactly what you got from dad.

“No, it’s alright, it’s okay, sweetheart, just give dad a minute.” He pats your shoulder, then he stands up, about to march on forward to grab his keys and leave. You know your dad, so you take his wrist in your hand, beg him to face you.

“Dad… I’m sorry, can you look at me?” You add a ‘please’ in the most desperate tone you can manage, brows slanting downwards as your bottom lip trembles.

Leon struggles to do so, his arm flexes when he tenses, stiffening in your grip. He sits back down when you begin to sniffle, too lamb-hearted to sit through your fit of tears. “Oh, sweetheart, it’s okay.” Dad rubs your back, but he avoids moving his face close like he usually would, this is his cue to kiss the tears from your cheeks, but he doesn’t.

“It’s not, dad,” You hiccup, choking on an ugly sob that manifests into an even uglier yelp, “I didn’t mean to do that, I’m just really lonely.”

“Baby,” Leon’s voice is sweet like a glacé cherry, “I didn’t know you were feeling like that, I didn’t know you were lonely.”

You are, but that’s not why you kissed dad. You kissed dad out of your own free will, ‘cause you’re in love with him. “I am really lonely, dad, I don’t know what to do.” The snot and tears don’t bother him, he wipes it away with the back of his hand. You’re his baby, you know that. So if he can do that, why can’t he fuck you? It’s ugly in the same way, he’ll wipe his load off your stomach instead, or your ass if he wants to take you from the back.

“Hey, it’s okay, we can— we can fix that, I promise.” The only thing you need him to fix is the leak you’ve sprung, plug it up or whatever. “There’s no use cryin’ about it, alright? Dad doesn’t like seeing you cry.”

His guard drops, and you’re kissing him again, harder, till he’s breathless and confused and yet unable to push you off. ‘Cause dad is so weak-willed when it comes to you. If only you’d had the guts to get to him sooner. “I won’t cry… I won’t cry if you kiss me, dad, I promise.” It’s a shitty tactic, threats, making dad’s heart jump like that - gonna send him into cardiac arrest.

Leon hesitates, softens like butter when your hands come to fist the fabric of his shirt, “Okay, just, just a kiss, alright? And mom can’t find out ‘bout this.” He stammers, cupping your face in his big hands, his fingers trembling. “And… And just one, yeah?” His flimsy assertion of dominance has your lips curving into the slightest of smiles, dad’s cute.

“Just one.” You agree, his spiky lashes cast shadows on his face, he shuts his eyes tight as your lips ghost over his for a moment, then you take his face in your hands and press them together. Lip to lip. Heart to heart. You swing a leg over his, situating yourself in his lap. Leon’s eyes open, no longer bracing as he glances down at your spread thighs, then up at your face.

“What’s up?” Leon tries, it’s hard to miss the apprehensive edge to his tone, how he burrows backwards into the couch pillows, shoulders shrinking to get away from you. His kid.

He’s not moving. Not pushing you off, which he could easily do, not calling mom and telling her you need to be checked into a ward of some kind - with others akin to you. Would be like a slumber party really, getting to indulge in fantasies that haven’t left the confines of your sick little head. Dad is looking on ahead, glassy-eyed and sad. And you kind of get it now, what you’ve heard about dad being easy back when he was younger. Not easy, but soft. Pliant against his own will, even when he has the capacity to say no, you’ve given him plenty of chances to say no.

“Dad, I’m sorry, I’ll be quick.” That’s a promise, you’re worked up from therapy with the cleaner version of dad. “And I’m sorry, we don’t have to do this ever again.” Unless you want too is left unsaid. You hope the implications are clear enough, that he’s picking up what you’re putting down, but dad is slow in that sense. He’s a hands-on type of guy.

You give him a minute, dad blinks, and there’s no explicit refusal, so you lift up to wriggle out of your jeans. Dad’s come undone a little easier, he raises his hips when you ask him to do so, and he flinches when you unzip them - fingers coming into contact with the softness of his cock through the fabric of his boxers. Leon’s not hard. It’s a blow to your already crippled ego, then again you’ve heard mom talk about Viagra to him before - so maybe it’s not a ‘my kid is groping my dick’ issue, but more of an old age issue.

The tip is velvety on your skin when you tuck your fingers beneath the waistband to tug them down, with the way he’s reclined back in his seat, his dick flops onto his stomach. Heavy and stagnant, much like dad himself. Doesn’t spring up and whack you in the face like dicks tend to do in porn, doesn’t have a mind of its own, it just sits there awkwardly.

Leon closes his eyes, you notice how ragged his breathing is and wonder if he’s getting any enjoyment out of this, or if he’s two minutes away from flatlining. To comfort him, you stroke a hand over his cheek, fingers curling beneath his square jaw as your other hand curls around his flaccid cock. He flinches, and for the first time in your life, you see dad cry. And it turns you on. The last time was when you were born, you don’t remember it, for obvious reasons, but he reiterates it every birthday.

“Oh, dad,” Your brows knit together, “I didn’t… Please don’t cry, I really didn’t mean to upset you, dad. Gosh, I’m just, I just needed to do this dad— Can you speak to me, please? I don’t know what to do.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Leon’s voice wavers, his body is wracked with shivers, chills prickling his spine, “I want to make you happy.” You’re all he's got, you and mom are the only speck of normalcy in dad’s life and you’ve gone and ruined it. For reasons even your counsellor couldn’t process, reasons that are unfathomable to you. A prion disease so severe that even your therapist likely fears there’s no chance. “I’m sorry.” He says finally, and your stomach hurts.

“Dad, don’t say sorry, that’s stupid.” You lift your hips once more, spitting on your palm and smearing it over his dick has done little for lube, but he’s not all that big - and you’re dripping down your thighs, it’ll be an easy fit, ‘cause dad made you. Half of you is him, and that means he’ll be just right. “It’s not your fault.” You tell him, but you doubt it lifts the guilt from his shoulders, it weighs down his tender heart instead.

Dad doesn’t think that way. He blames everything on himself. Leon’s the one that raised you, he's the one that went wrong. You don’t know how else to tell him there’s something sick inside your head, and it’s infected every single part of you.

It’s hard to guide him into your hole, the tip bumps over your twitching clit a couple of times, up and down your slippery folds as you try to line him up. Leon’s face twists when you take him in, walls breached by the tip alone, you wonder if he’s relieved to find out you’re a virgin. You’ve been saving it for dad, didn’t know the opportunity would come so soon. Your cunt squelches when you take him to the hilt, squeezing around his shaft till he hardens inside of you. There we go, so dad does like you after all? Or is this a natural response? Or is he thinking of someone else, his eyes have been closed for an awfully long time.

“Dad, will you look at me, please?” That’s the second time you’ve asked so nicely and he obeys all the same, cracking open his eyes, foggy like stained glass, just as bright too.

Two hands come to rest on your torso, Leon’s keeping you at arms length. You want dad to let you in. The rocking off your hips elicits the slightest groan from his parted lips, you grind yourself into his lap, fat head leaking and jabbing at that spongy spot deep inside. See? Dad’s made for you. Dad knows you.

“Dad,” You whimper, clammy forehead sticking to his, the tip of your nose bumping his broad one, it’s romantic you think. In the same way A View from the Bridge is romantic - to you and you only. “I love you… I love you so much.” His hips jolt upwards, dad’s sensitive you suppose, he didn’t mean to do it ‘cause his face contorts with pure, unadulterated disgust.

Shakily, you take his bigger hand in yours, he’s limp in your grip. You jam his hand between your sweaty bodies, force him to rub them against your thrumming clit. Dad does it. ‘Cause he loves you, if you didn’t get that by now. His thumb rubs figure eights into your bud, the nimble touch, along with dad’s dick right where you want it, lodged deep inside your pussy - it tips you right over the edge.

Your thighs tremble, snapping shut around his hand, and his cock slips out. He’s only got a semi, or maybe he came earlier, but you don’t know much about dick specifics so you curl into his chest, and dad holds you tight even after you totally violated the poor guy.

“Should clean up ‘fore mom gets home.” Leon’s voice is unsteady, lilting up and down, all over the place. God, did you make dad cry again, you stupid bitch?

“Yeah,” You agree, scratching the back of your head ‘cause what do you even say after fucking your dad? Couldn’t even ask google that. “Dad, do you still like me?”

“I love you,” He answers instinctively, “I’ll love you no matter what you do to me, kid.”

#leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut

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queen-of-the-avengers · 22 days

Text

After So Long

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: angst

Summary: You're forced to go back to the one place you tried to hard to get away from. You're forced to contront the memories you left behind.

Between Love and Hate Masterlist

Squares Filled: protection (2023) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

Then

It seemed like wherever Bucky went, Steve and Sam followed. You thought it’d be nice to go shopping at your local mall with Bucky since he’d been so busy with work. You put on something cute to wear and did your hair only to feel like you’re being followed the whole time. You tried to ignore them but it was hard when you saw their black clothes in every corner.

“Does this look cute?” you asked and held up a shirt.

“On me or you?” Bucky joked.

“Ha-ha, very funny. Wait, it might look good on you.”

Bucky smiled and took the shirt while you moved to a different section of the store, the dresses. He didn’t mind holding the things you wanted to get. He’d do it forever if he knew this made you happy. It does. You liked shopping. Just not with grown men following you.

“Do they have to be here?” you sighed as you looked at the dresses.

“It’s a precaution, pisică.”

You liked the little nicknames he gave you, especially in his native tongue, Romanian.

“Because of your job?” Bucky nodded. “When are you gonna tell me what you do?”

“I’d rather stay in our little bubble a little while longer, if possible.”

“Fine, but you will have to tell me eventually.” Bucky didn’t respond to that. Once you were done with the dresses, you moved to the jewelry section. The prices in this store were outrageous and you turned to Bucky with a frown. “Are you sure we should keep shopping here? I’ve already spent enough of your money.”

“Pisică, I make more money in an hour than the one hundred grand you’re going to spend.”

“You’re spoiling me,” you grinned.

Bucky pulled you into him and placed his hands on your ass, not caring if anyone saw.

“You’re my girl. Of course, I will.”

He leaned down and kissed you and your heart swelled in happiness.

Now

You always knew Bucky would find you but you didn’t know when or where it’d happen. He truly didn’t know where you were for the first six months you were gone. After you enrolled in college, he found you. In order to apply for it, you had to use your real name which Sam caught when he was looking for you online.

Despite what you may think of him, he really does love you. He just has a weird way of showing it.

Bucky has left his men behind where you crashed your car at while his driver takes you to one of his mansions. You’ve been to almost all of them because he used to take you all around the country for the hell of it. You have a room in every single one of them.

“Pisică--”

“Don’t call me that,” you snap and look at him.

“It took a long time to find you. I thought you had dropped off the face of the Earth.”

“Bite me.”

“Don’t tempt me,” he smirks. He loses it when he thinks about what to ask next. “Why did you run?”

You look at him with wide eyes and a parted mouth. “Did you really just ask me that? You’re a murderer.”

“Well, that depends on how to look at it.”

“There’s no looking at it differently. You kill people. That’s murder.”

Bucky decides to change the topic because he’s not gonna get far with you accusing him of things he’s done.

“Remember how we met?” It’s incredible how this man can jump from one topic to the next. “I do. I even remember the kiss we shared. Care to hear it from my perspective?”

“Not really?”

He tells you the story anyway as if you weren't there to begin with.

Bucky met up with several potential business partners that he thought would benefit him and his company. He’s one of the biggest mafia bosses this country has ever seen and having allies is much better than having enemies. He controls the weapons market, the communication sector, and most of the casinos across the country. These men would give him access to most of the drug trading posts if they’d only get their heads out of their asses and agree to his terms.

He doesn’t let the storm outside prevent him from doing business which is why he took this little meeting to one of the most expensive and high-end restaurants in town. The owner knows him and always gives him a good deal.

“Ma’am! You can’t just run in here!”

Bucky looks up and locks eyes with the most gorgeous woman he has ever seen before. Granted, she’s soaking wet from the rain outside. She looks fearful as if she’s running from someone. For some reason, Bucky would kill anyone who ever made her feel unsafe, and he doesn’t even know her.

She looks back outside and runs further into the restaurant, ignoring the calls from the hostess. She runs right over to him and interrupts the meeting he carefully set up without a care in the world. There’s panic in her eyes. She’s afraid. If only she knew who he was.

“I’m so sorry. Please play along.”

A man comes into the restaurant just as soaked as she is but Bucky doesn’t have time to react. She sits on his lap and kisses him desperately. He wraps an arm around her waist to keep her from falling off his lap and kisses her back. She is getting his nice suit wet but he doesn’t care. This kiss not only screams ‘I’m desperate’ but it screams ‘I need help’. The men Bucky is with chuckle but he tunes them out.

“Sir!”

Bucky can only assume the man had left the restaurant. His mysterious lover tries to pull away from him but he pulls her in closer and continues to kiss her. Only when he is satisfied does he finally let her go. She turns to check that the man isn’t there anymore and visually relaxes.

“I am so sorry.”

“Ex-boyfriend?”

“Yeah. He wouldn’t let me leave and I only managed to get away from him.” something comes over her face and she backs away in embarrassment. “God, that was so rude of me. I don’t know you. Thank you for that. Again, I’m really sorry I interrupted your dinner.”

She leaves the table and checks to make sure her ex isn’t outside looking for her. Once she feels she’s safe, she runs back outside into the pouring rain. Bucky clears his throat and takes out his phone so he can call one of his trusted men. He has Sam working on something in another state so Steve is who he calls.

“Boss?”

“Did you see her run out?”

“Yes.”

“Follow her. Find out about the boyfriend.”

“Yes, sir.”

Bucky gets off the phone and returns to his meeting like nothing happened.

“You came in there dripping wet. You came over to me and kissed me. Do you remember that kiss? How desperate you were for it?” During his storytelling, Bucky pulled you closer to him and slid his hand in your hair. His hand is so big that he can cup the side of your head and still run his thumb over your bottom lip. “Do you remember the taste of my lips on yours?”

“I will never kiss you again much less do anything more than that.”

You push him away and he smirks in amusement. He keeps his hands to himself for the rest of the ride. His mansion is like the one in New York just with more acres. He has the ultimate dream house fit with anything you can think of. Pools, spas, theaters, sports courts, and a ton more.

You dread coming back here not because it reminds you of Bucky but because it reminds you of the good times you had with him. The times from before you knew what he did for work.

You’re escorted inside his mansion and taken to a room with Steve. It’s like you’re being placed on time out because Steve stands by the door as if he isn’t allowed to let you leave.

“Ai grijă la ea, e foarte drăguță, dar e o fire plină de luptă. Ea nu iese din casă.”

Watch out for her, she’s real pretty but she’s a feisty one. She doesn’t leave the house.

Bucky keeps eye contact with you the whole time before leaving the room. Your blood boils.

“Ești un laș care se ascunde în spatele unei armate de oameni!”

You’re a coward who hides behind an army of men!

Bucky doesn’t bat an eye at your words. He’s the one who taught you Romanian, now you’re using it against him.

“I’m leaving,” you say to Steve and storm to the door.

Steve lets you out of the room knowing there are guards posted at every door to prevent you from leaving the mansion. Sam stands at the front door so he must be done cleaning the crash of your car.

“Sorry, you can’t leave. Bosses’ order,” Sam says and stops you from leaving.

Instead of standing here arguing with him, you figured you get this over with. Your room hasn’t been touched since you left, and you can only assume your other rooms in the other mansions haven’t been touched either. This room is filled with so many good memories of you and Bucky. You hate that you’re looking at them now with such disdain.

Bucky was never one for pictures so the ones he did take were inappropriate to post anywhere. He thought it was funny to print them out and frame them for your room to always remind you who you belong to. Maybe you still do. Maybe you don’t. You’re not sure of how you feel anymore.

It hurts to look at them because you still love him. You’re so damn in love with him and it hurts because you thought you’d never love a murderer.

Bucky returns to the house hours later, well into the night. He finds you asleep in your own bed with dried tears on your cheeks. He looks at the pictures on the dresser and yanks his tie off angrily. He makes sure to be quiet as he walks over to you.

“I love you so much,” he whispers.

He kisses your forehead before leaving your room. God, he wishes things were different. He hates seeing you in pain.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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leonstoenailunderhisbed · 23 days

Text

What Was I Made For?

Summary: Leon, a bodyguard assigned to watch and protect his client, confesses his feelings for the reader. Although he knew he shouldn’t be involved in a relationship with his client, he still reaches out for you.

Warning: fluff/comfort. smut. afab reader. bodyguard!leon x female!reader. oral (f receiving), missionary, slight age gap (Leon is 27 and reader is 21+) loss of virginity. protected sex. CONSENTED. not proofread lol.

A/N: i got inspired by multiple things; jo and laurie, pride and prejudice, i love you and what was i made for by billie eilish. i wanted to try and write a romance so pure that it makes people cry. I think this is my cheesiest work so far.

“I have waited for this opportunity for more than half a century, to repeat to you once again my vow of eternal fidelity and everlasting love.” - Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Your father had hired a bodyguard to protect you while he was away. He loved you, like any father would, but his work seemingly came first. Not that you had any word in it anyway. It seemed that most of the choices he made for you were clearly out his heart and not out malice.

But when the tall, muscular, blonde man entered your own house, you couldn't help but feel a little angry. Not at the stranger, he was just hired to do his job, you were mostly mad at your dad for even thinking you didn't have what it takes to defend yourself. You hated feeling small and be seen as weak but again, there was nothing you could about it except take it.

Leon was his name, Leon Scott Kennedy. He's quiet, blunt, and always had a serious expression on his face. You couldn't read him- no one could, really. It was a little unsettling but overtime you grew closer to him.

He'd help you out when you needed a ride, he would reach the highest shelf when you wanted something from the pantry; he was a man you can depend on. And he, too, grew to care about you.

What you didn’t know was that every time he saw you or was with you, his heart would skip a beat. His entire being would feel like that satisfying part of a song; the bridge or the chorus or whichever part it may be. He felt complete, but he also felt empty. For how could a girl like you love him like he loved you?

Fear. He was scared, scared that you might push him away and abandon him like everyone has. That he’d have to fetch for himself again and live in solitude until his job required him to be sent away.

And so he buried these feelings deep down. He promised to himself that in order to not get hurt, he’d tough it out. That he won’t soften on you; he promised himself to stay a strong man and not let the wild emotions in his heart deter him from doing his job. And that’s what he did. Feelings were deeper than six feet, never to be resurfaced again.

Tonight was rough for you, so you found yourself in a bar. You didn't tell Leon, why should he know about this? He'd run off and tell your father about you drinking and getting with some random guy.

So, you turned off your location and put your phone on 'Do Not Disturb.' You needed an escape, a break from current reality. And what better way than to spend it on drinking away.

But you couldn't get one drink in without him bursting through the doors of the bar. His eyes landed on you, and he dashed towards you, "What are you doing here?"

His fingers wrapped around your wrist before the cup of liquor could touch your lips. You furrowed your brows and stared at his scowl, he looked beyond pissed. You knew he had every right to feel that way but at the same time, you desperately wanted to be away for a while.

"How did you find me?" you asked him.

"I'm a government agent, Y/n. I have my ways," He replied as he took your glass and put it back down on the bar table, "C'mon, let's get you home."

He pulled you up by gently taking your forearm, he guided the two of you out and away from the bar.

“No, Leon, I don’t want to go home. I want-“

“I don’t care what you want, this isn’t safe for you. I will take you back whether you like it or not,” he quickly turned to look you. He was mad and his face was not hiding it.

With a sigh, you reluctantly let him take you away. He ended taking you both to his apartment as your place was quite literally one hour away and it was dead in the night.

“What were you thinking?” He seethed through gritted teeth, “What if something had happened to you, huh? Were you just planning on getting drunk? How would you have gotten back home if I didn’t get there?”

You were currently sitting down on his couch, wearing his clothes that he let you borrow since you didn’t feel comfortable in the dress you were wearing. Right now, he was going through one of his heated lectures where it made you feel like a child. Curse him and his authorative voice.

“What were you even doing there? That’s not a place you belong and you know it,” he stood in front of you as he glared down at you.

“I don’t know, I needed a break,” you mumbled.

Leon scoffed and deepened his furrowed brows, “A break? From what? What could possibly make you want to go to one of the most dangerous place a woman could ever be in. Don’t you ever think about your safety? What if a man had taken advantage of you and you’d gone missing by tomorrow morning?” Leon sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he paced around his living room.

His apartment was nice- small but cozy. It was very him, in a way. Minimal decor with blank walls, devoid of any pictures. He never takes pictures and you realized this a long time ago when he’d gaze at the walls in your house, staring at your pictures when you were young. He liked them but he also felt jealous. Leon didn’t have these pictures. But he did have memories he wished he could keep forever.

He was beyond stressed for you. He wouldn’t have forgiven himself if anything had happened to you. As these thought ran through his mind, he couldn’t help but feel a small tug at the string in his heart. Something he knew all too well. A feeling he’s been keeping locked away seemed to be coming back at the wrong time.

“Leon, give me a break. I just wanted to have some fun,” you mumbled as you looked at him pace back and forth like a madman. You knew he was concerned for you, but was that really it? Just concern?

“Fun? Your idea of fun is getting drunk and have creeps around you? Bullshit, Y/n. Bullshit,” he quickly retaliated.

“What was the real reason? And don’t lie to me, I can tell when you’re lying,” he grumbled and stopped pacing to look back at you.

You sighed, “I… I wanted to be cool. All my friends have gone out and had fun but not me. I’m always cooped up like a prisoner. When am I going to have my fun?”

His eyes softened slightly, very slightly, but he was still scowling at you. Do not break, is what he repeatedly told himself.

“Leon, I’m an adult. I want to make stupid decisions. I want to get drunk and have sex with random strangers,” you looked down at your hands playing with the drawstrings of the sweatpants you were wearing, “I wanted to get drunk and… lose my virginity,” you whispered.

He stood frozen in place, but then he sighed and rubbed his face with his hand, “Jesus Christ, Y/n… you’re-“

He looked at you exasperatedly, “You’re way too young to be going out and drinking with random guys— especially like this.” He leaned over you, placing his hands on the couch armrests on either side of your body before continuing. “God, I could smack you right now for being so stupid.”

He obviously didn’t mean it but he couldn’t help it. You worried him, you made him want to act irrational every time something bad was threatening you.

Your eyes slightly widened from how close he got but you weren’t complaining, “Too young?” You repeated in a whisper. You furrowed your brows and leaned closer to his face, “I’m not being stupid. It’s embarrassing being a virgin at this age. When did you lose your virginity, huh?” You quickly instigated.

“At 21,” Leon replied, his scowl lessening as he noticed that you leaned in closer. “And I was sober, too.”

His eyes remained fixated on your eyes and he stared deeply into them, “You are still too young though. That’s what I’m trying to say. When someone tells you, live your life, they don’t literally mean being in the center of danger."

You groaned and leaned back against the couch, seemingly frustrated, “I’m an adult, Leon.”

You rubbed your eyes and then looked at him, “All my friends have had sex before and I’m still seen like a fucking nun. At least you lost your virginity, who knows when I’m going to lose it,” you grumbled and crossed your arms over your chest.

He was quiet for a bit. He paced around some more before speaking again with a stern tone. "Just because you're an adult-- barely, I might add-- doesn't mean you know everything. Hell, you're still a virgin for a reason."

He sat down on the couch next to you as he tried to think of what else to say. Leon sighed and leaned forward, his elbows now resting on his knees as he looked back at you, "I can just picture it if you do go home with some guy."

Leon puts his hands back to the armrests, "Idiot pulls your pants down, gets on top of you and finishes in two seconds-"

“But at least I’ll get fucked, right?” You interjected and looked away, “It’ll be nice if someone did that, except the finishing quickly- obviously.”

“I mean- that’s gotta be an exaggeration too, right? Who finishes in two seconds?” You mumbled and looked back at him.

Leon sighs, his gaze softening slightly. He opens his mouth to say something before stopping and closing it again, “Jesus…” He takes a deep breath before speaking again. “No, it’s really not an exaggeration. There are a good number of guys who think that they’re in a movie when they’re with a girl like you. And then—“

Leon leans in close to you and grabs your arm, “You’ll hate yourself if you lose your virginity this way.”

You looked at his eyes and then sighed, “So what should I do? Be the only one who hasn’t slept with anyone before? I haven’t even kissed anyone and that is embarrassing. Everyone’s kissed someone before but not me,” you muttered.

You didn’t mind him grabbing your arm, you didn’t even notice it since you were too deep into the conversation. Why did he care anyway? It’s not like he’s going to tell your dad about this, is he?

He wouldn’t. You and him both knew he wouldn’t betray you like that. Because you both knew that deep down, feelings were there. Feelings that made the two of you act exactly like this. Like kids fighting.

“I know I’m still young but c’mon… you know kids my age have done things… I don’t want to be left out, you whispered.

“Goddamnit..” Leon groaned and grabbed the other arm, holding them in both of his huge, calloused hands, “Stop being so damn self-conscious.” He glared down at you, the intensity of his eyes nearly causing your heart rate to spike a bit.

“And stop thinking about other people. You’re young and you’ve already lost the most important one…” Leon leans in even closer to you, almost so close that your noses are touching.

You furrowed your brows confused, “I have?” You muttered, “I haven’t…” your voice trailed off as you tried to look away but you couldn’t. His blue eyes were piercing right through your eyes as both your noses were so close to touching.

He stared at you in silence, his nostrils flaring from his deep breathing. Then, without warning, he kissed you firmly on the lips, his lips meeting yours for a few solid seconds. Freezing as you felt his lips on yours, not realizing what he was doing, but then you melted. Your heart was beating so fast but you didn’t protest. You closed your eyes for those few seconds and when he pulled back you looked at him with a dazed look. He sighed and took a deep breath before speaking again, “Idiot.”

“Why… you…” you stuttered as you tried to think of something to say. Your cheeks were coated pink as you licked your lips, still tasting his lips on your lips.

Leon leaned back and glanced at you. His face was flushed, but his expression was nothing but a mix of pure tenderness and soft longing. He rubbed his thumb against the side of your cheek and looked down into your eyes before speaking in a tender, whispery voice,

“Because you won’t listen, you know you’ll regret it if you do something like that with some guy, and I didn’t want that to happen to you.”

His heart was beating out of his chest, he couldn’t believe he’d just done that but he didn’t regret it. If he could have a little bit of you, he’d take it with him to his grave.

“So… you did it instead…” you mumbled as you looked at him with big eyes. Your pupils were dilated as you stared at his eyes and then down at his lips. Then your eyes shifted back to his blue eyes again. It was unbelievable that he took it upon himself to give you your first kiss. And it left you wanting more. But was that allowed?

He looked down at your lips for a moment before looking back up. He noticed your wide, glazed over eyes, the rapid breathing, and how your cheeks were coated in pink. He noticed everything about you in this moment.

He leaned back in, close enough to be right in front of your face. Then, he placed his hand back on the side of your cheek and pulled you in for a second kiss, “I’d rather it be me instead of some guy who’ll probably just abandon you the moment they finish.”

His second kiss made you melt, you closed your eyes and brought your hand to the back of his head as you moved to straddle his lap. Once he pulled back, you looked at him, “Does that mean… you’ll take my virginity too?” You asked quietly. The question made you nervous but you still had to know if he’d do everything you just mentioned.

Leon had to take a deep breath in and out as he was getting ahead of himself here. He was barely holding back in his own eyes, and you could tell that he wanted to do so many things to you in just this moment.

But his answer was a slow nod, “Yes… I will.”

To which you could only respond with kissing him again. He grabbed your hips as you straddled him, taking you in one of his arms while you leaned down for the kiss. He moaned softly as your lips met once again for another long moment. He sighed slowly once you pulled away, leaning you back against his arm, “God, do you know how tempting it is to just carry you to my room right now and do everything to you?”

“Please do it,” you whispered as you looked down at him, your chest panting. You wanted him to absolutely wreck you. To make your first time unforgettable.

He groaned deeply at your words and lifted you off of his arm. He then picked you up, carrying you in his arms as he walked into the hall. Leon carried you into his room, and then gently laid you down on his bed, climbing on top of you and pinning you down once he did.

There were many things Leon expected in his life but none of them ever led to this moment. Sure, he’d be fine with kissing you and then pulling away to keep you safe. But that’s not what you wanted either. His heart kept pulling and pulling but he tried so hard to fight it. He tried not to fall too deep. Keyword tried.

Leon looked down at you as you lay there with your hair sprawled out and your legs spread open. Your blushing cheeks paired with your wide, dreamy eyeballs made it easy for him to feel something deep in his gut. He leaned down to your neck and began to kiss and bite it, “You have no idea about the things you make me feel.”

You closed your eyes and rolled your head back to give him more space to keep giving you hickeys on your neck. Your hands wrapped around the back of his head, gently tugging at his hair. You bit down on your bottom lip to try and suppress moans and whimpers daring to leave your throat.

“Leon,” you moaned softly as he kissed and bit your neck.

He couldn’t help it. When you tugged at his hair, his eyes rolled back for a moment from how good it felt. When you moaned his name, he had to bite your neck one last time before leaning back on his knees and taking off his shirt.

His muscly body was on display as he unbuttoned his fly and took his pants off, going back on top of you to pin you down against the bed again, “God, you have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do this.”

He remained in his boxer-briefs and you couldn’t help but just stare at the hot man on top of you. Heart palpitations increased as you noticed the look he had on his face- pure lust and… love?

“Me too,” you whispered as you also hastily took off your shirt and sweatpants, tossing them away to God knows where.

You both seemed to have been wanting this. It would be a lie if chemistry didn’t exist between the two of you, but it was something that was kept away and ignored. There were so many things that go against the two of you and yet, you both have found yourselves in this moment. Entangled by the strings of both of your hearts pulling you together as one puzzle piece.

As soon as he saw you down to your bra and panties, it was enough for Leon’s blood to boil and he didn’t have the capacity to wait any longer. He pulled them off of you faster than you could react, leaving you completely naked on his bed. He grinned down at you, taking one of your hands and guiding it over his chest so you could feel his muscles.

“You’re beautiful,” he muttered, looking at you like you were his angel- his goddess. A siren that captured his heart.

Your cheeks got even more red as he guided your hand to his muscly chest, causing you to whine quietly.

His smirk grew and his eyes sparkled with mischief as they looked down at you. With one hand wrapped around yours and the other at the small of your back, he leaned down to softly bite your neck again.

This was the perfect moment for him, he felt like he could finally be closer to you. To finally feel you for the first time. A renaissance, a revival of the piece of art that was under him. The rebirth of happiness.

He paused for a moment and stared down at you before leaning in yet again, “Y/n…”

“God, just ruin me,” you whispered as he leaned down on your neck again to bite and kiss it. Pink and purple spots beginning to coat your delicate skin from the hickeys and love-bites. That man was desperate, deprived of love and you could tell by the way he was handling your body. It was like fire spreading through your body, the warm sensation running down your skin as he licked and nipped every crevice of your neck and collarbone. Marking you, claiming you, loving you.

He felt his entire body vibrate as those words left your lips. His eyes began to roll back one last time and he groaned lowly. Without waiting for another moment, Leon started to slowly move his head southward. He gently ran his hands along the side of your body as he kissed and bit your shoulders, chest, and then the top of your breasts.

“Leon,” you moaned softly as he began to kiss your breasts, feeling them become even more sensitive. Your nipples were hard from arousal to the point where they ached for more. Your hands wrapped around his head as your fingers interlaced with his blond hair, pulling him closer to your chest.

He was being gently encouraged to stay there. To continue to torture you. And he did. Once you tell a dog to stay, he stays. And god, he’d be a dog for you if you asked him to. To him, you were the warmth of the sun shining through his window.

To him, you were the reason he wakes up early in the morning.

To him, you were the reason why even bothered to stay.

To him, you were everything.

With one hand still holding yours, the other one moved to the side of your thigh to hold your leg in place. He kissed your chest again, this time with more intensity as his hands gripped your thigh even tighter. One hand slid up your thigh, slowly teasing the line of your underwear.

You both have longed for this. The unspoken words exchanged through glances said enough.

The way you spoke his name in a soft, breathy voice was enough to send a bolt of electricity through his body. He liked what he was doing to you, he really did.

He leaned in again, this time placing his mouth right on the line where his hand was. His fingers pulled your panties to the side as his eyes set on your wet cunt. He used his tongue to lightly brush back and forth, barely even teasing you. And then, without warning, he slid his fingers inside you.

You closed your eyes tightly shut and arched your back, “Leon!” You whimpered and moaned softly. It all felt so fulfilling.

His tongue, his hands- it all sent wave after wave of pleasure. Your hands gripped his bedsheets as you moaned his name like a prayer.

“Leon, Leon, Leon,” you breathed out.

You were so sweet and soft when you were at this state. That was something he loved about you. And when you were begging for him like this? It was enough for every part of him to get a little hot.

He slid his fingers in deeper, moving his fingers around a bit before curling them and moving them inside you. All while his mouth and tongue nipped at your clit.

He moaned softly as he did, still teasing you with his tongue. You tasted sweet. A sweet nectar that drove him over the edge. Well not really but he could. He could cum just now from how delicious your pussy tasted.

His tongue dragged along your wet folds, eliciting a shuddered moan from you. He loved your reactions, three way his touch affected you so much when he felt like he was doing nothing.

He’d do more if you let him into your heart, he thought.

“Oh my god,” you breathed out as he curled his fingers, “Leon,” you moaned softly in a whiny voice.

Leon’s body was twitching from all the noises you were spouting and the way your legs were squirming. It was a perfect mix of adorable and tantalizing in the best way possible.

He knew you were about to cum, given the fact your moans became more short and breathy. You merge began to twitch just a little and he had to grip your thighs to hold them down.

His fingers moved faster, his tongue moved quicker, but most importantly, the strength of his grasp on you and himself increased. He was close to losing himself at this point, ready to reach his peak at any moment.

“Leon!” You moaned a little too loud. Your back arched as your toes curled when you came on his face. His tongue and fingers made you feel like you reached heaven- nirvana too.

He moaned loudly as you released yourself against his face, grabbing onto your hips to keep you in place and prevent you from slipping away from him. But even so, he could taste and smell you on him, and the sight of such a pretty girl in this state turned him on infinitely more.

His blue eyes barely visible from his dilated pupils, his blonde hair shining from the light of his room, how your cum dripped down his face. But you couldn’t help but shift your focus to his lips. They were so much more plump than before and he had this look like he just struck gold.

At that moment, he pulled his hand out from between your legs and moved it to your shoulder, moving your leg and hand away from him.

He slowly sat up and leaned close to your ear again, “You taste so sweet I want to keep you all to myself,” he whispered.

You couldn’t believe you had my first orgasm from his tongue and fingers, you were left a panting mess. But that wasn’t the end. You looked up at him and kissed him as he was still on top of you. You could taste yourself on his lips and it caused you to moan just a little bit. And he groaned when you kissed him.

He broke the kiss off once more, breathing heavily and staring down at you. Your body was still covered in a slight glow from the orgasm you just had. His eyes were fixed on yours, his lips wet with your taste.

"God, I need you," he breathed in a low tone, staring back at your body.

“I need you too,” you whispered as you wrapped your hands around his neck and pulled him down with you. Your lips finding his again and his hands immediately went to your waist.

He groaned deeply as he kissed you again, diving back into the heat of the moment as his body was filled with every emotion in the book.

He felt something in that moment though… he felt something he’s only felt a few times in his life, something that could really take him to the highest heights and then throw him down to the lowest depths.

“I love you,” he whispered softly as he breathed out, looking deeply in your eyes and staring at you with pure adoration.

His tone, his words, his eyes- he meant it. And you knew it.

Your eyes were full of pure adoration as well. In this moment you had realized that this time, you had fallen for him. You loved him too.

The stolen glances from when you were in the same room, when he’s had to help you out countless times, when he comforted you on your lowest days, and when he would make you the happiest by remembering your favorite things. He was more than just a bodyguard to you. He became your world.

“I love you too,” you whispered back. You stared deeply into his eyes as your fingers gently brushed away blonde strands of hair from his face.

His heart was beating rapidly as he took in every single touch and movement you made to him. From the strokes of your fingers, to your soft voice, to the stare of admiration in your eyes, to the way you spoke to his face.

He was all yours now, this girl who was his to protect and cherish until his last breath.

There was no hiding how much he loved you by the way his eyes looked at you. It was clear in this moment that his feelings for you were genuine and honest. He didn't like you just because you were pretty and cute. He loved you for all of who you were.

He could feel tears stinging the back of his eyes as he leaned in and kissed you lightly, "I'll protect you until the day I die," he told you, staring deeply into your eyes.

His body was trembling as his heart beat against his chest again from these words. This was a feeling he truly didn't deserve. How could this girl love someone like him so much?

Your words brought out the feelings in his heart that he so desperately wanted to keep hidden away. He took in every moment of this, the way your eyes looked at him and the way your delicate hands were touching his face.

He felt complete. The strings playing at his heart were in your mercy and he wouldn’t want it any other way.

He pulled you in even tighter than he had ever done before. His hands were all over you as he kissed you repeatedly once more, his lips pressing against your own as your own taste filled his mouth once again.

He didn’t want to stop. He didn’t want this moment to end.

He wanted to live in this moment forever.

He pulled away from you once more, looking straight down at your body with his blue eyes looking down at you, "You know, you're the first girl to ever really make me feel this way.” he muttered.

“Me too,” you whispered as you stared up at him with the same level of adoration and love.

No matter how many times you could deny it, you felt just the same as he did in this very moment. Your heart felt like it would combust at any moment from the fact that your feelings are being reciprocated. That you both felt the exactly same thing if not even more. And that was enough for you to want to be with him. Regardless of him being your bodyguard.

“I want you,” you whispered.

A warm feeling ran through his entire body after hearing these words. This was something he could never truly describe, a feeling that was so strong yet so light at the same time. The love coming from you was enough to give him an uncontrollable urge to make all of his fantasies and desires come true. He couldn't resist you anymore, not with this level of mutual love between the two.

"I want you too," he whispered back. "Just promise me one thing. Promise me that, no matter what happens, I'll never lose you."

“Say it,” he begged, “Promise me I’ll never lose you…” he begged in a whisper. It was a plea, he dreaded the idea of losing you. He wanted you forever. Just the mere thought of you being away from his arms was enough to make his heart shatter a bit.

He needed to hear you say it. To tell him everything was going to be okay and you’ll forever be his. Because at the end of the day, no matter how much shit he’s been through, he also dreams of having his true love by his side every time he wakes up.

“I promise,” you whispered, “I promise you’ll never lose me… if you let me have you.”

One simple sentence from your soft lips and he was ready to melt and fall at your feet. He was yours and you were his in that moment.

"You have me," was what he responded with, as he gently leaned in to kiss your neck and jaw again.

“And you have me,” you closed your eyes as you whispered to him. You wrapped your hands around his hair as your hips bucked against his

"I've always had you," he spoke in barely audible tone as it was filled with the sounds of wet kisses.

His hand slid down your side again, gently sliding underneath your hip to hold you in place as he began to bite your neck again. All of his attention was now on you, and there was no longer another thought in his mind.

You moaned softly at his kisses and touches, “Leon,” you breathed out as you tugged at his hair.

His breath hitched and he pulled back slowly, his blue eyes gazing down at you as you squirmed around under him. His lips were swollen from the heat of your kisses and his jaw was clenched tightly from the pure pleasure rushing down his body.

He sighed softly for a moment and his eyes trailed down to the dresser next to the bed. He picked up the condoms from the drawer, opened the pack and opened one of them, before looking back up at you.

As much as he’d love to do it raw, he would never hurt his baby. His girl. His darling. He wasn’t that kind of man. No… he’s better than that.

"I'll go slowly, okay?"

You nodded and stared as he opened the condom, “Yeah… I’m okay with that,” you reassured in a quiet voice, a small and shy smile tugging at your lips.

He felt something in his heart when seeing that small, shy smile. It hurt how cute you were. The way you said your words in that shy voice and the little smile, it all made his heart ache with happiness.

"You're so beautiful," he muttered softly before leaning in, "I hope this is everything you've thought it would be.”

With a lot of care and time, he pulled down his boxer-briefs and put the condom on. He made sure it was nice and snug. He hovered over you for a moment, his hands slowly moving to your waist and hip.

"Promise me you'll tell me if it hurts the first time, alright?” He whispered as he slowly shifted back over top of you, making sure he was positioned just right.

You nodded as you felt him position himself while being on top of you, “I will,” you reassured. Your hands found their way to his back as you embraced him.

He nodded back as he took a slow, steady breath in and out. He could feel your touch through his back, your hands slowly running along his back as he slowly entered you for the very first time.

You felt his cock slowly enter your cunt and it made you grip his shoulder blades as you closed your eyes.

He groaned softly as he sighed in relief, slowly pushing himself in until his pelvic made contact with you. He held himself in place and looked into your eyes for approval. To know that everything was okay before he’d start thrusting into you.

Your eyes closed tightly as your nails dig into his skin, he felt big or maybe you were tight, who knows. But it felt good. You opened your eyes and stared at him, giving him a nod that it didn’t hurt and everything was okay.

He sighed softly in relief, feeling the grip from your hands around his body tighten for a moment as his body relaxed from his slight worries.

"You feel amazing," was all he could muster out as he slowly and gentle began to rock back and forth, starting to move inside of you as he leaned back onto his knees again for support. As he began to thrust into you, your moans and his grunts echoed through his room as the bed gently creaked from his rocking.

The sight of you under him and the noises of your moans were enough to have his mind go blank from all of the thoughts.

His body was shaking as his heart thumped loudly in his chest. He felt the warmth of you around him and he couldn't think straight. He started to move in and out of you slowly, his grunts growing louder as time felt like it had stopped for the two of you.

His hands gripped the back of your thighs more firmly as his hands moved along your back again to have more of your body pressed up against his.

Your moans and his grunts were lost in his room as he began to move. The bed began to creak at his movements, slowly and gently slamming against the back wall. Your hands were gripping and scratching his back out of pleasure, it was a type of fulfillment that made you drunk on him. That made you addicted to everything about him. And you wanted to be selfish and keep him to yourself.

“Leon,” you moaned softly against his ear.

His breathing steadily got quicker as he leaned in closer to you. Your moans only fed the fire inside of him and made him move faster and harder. His lips were brushing and nibbling on your neck while he continued.

His back was arching as your nails dug deeper upon his skin. His breathing was quickening and he groan out your name, "Y/n..."

You were close to your second climax of the day, you felt like puddy or mush in his hands. His touch melted you into whatever he wanted- you wouldn’t even complain.

Your back arched and you pressed my breasts against his chest, “Leon,” you breathed out. Your moans began to get more airy and short.

He leaned down back to kiss you while he rocked faster and harder into you. He could feel the warmth of the room fill up with pure steam as sweat covered both of you. The kiss sloppy and wet, not even a real kiss since the two of you were moaning and grunting out of pleasure.

His grip tightened on you as he moaned your name again, his hands now grabbing onto yours and squeezing them tightly as his hips moved back and forth. His interlocked his hand with yours as he thrusted into you, his cock filling you. A sensation that drove you insane in the best way.

"Almost there," he whispered, his breathing growing heavy around you.

“Me too,” you whispered back as you closed your eyes and let him look down at your face. Your jaw slightly open as you moaned and whimpered.

He couldn’t help but stare at your face, he thought you looked beautiful like this. His eyes scanned every little detail about your face and body, wanting to remember this forever. If he could, he’d definitely have this moment hanged up on the wall of his apartment. A memory so important to him that he’d have no shame in showing you off. But he wouldn’t do that. You were his and he didn’t want anyone else but him to look at you like this.

Your walls were beginning to clump down on his cock. You were close to cumming for the second time today, which surprised you because you’ve never done this before.

Soon, you did climax on him while he kept going. Your body convulsed and fell limp under him as he chased his own high. Your eyes were half-lidded as you were overrun with that satisfied and happy feeling that came with the post-orgasm jitters.

He sighed deeply as he felt you throb around his cock. Your body shook and your head rolled back as the climax overwhelmed your body and flooded it with endorphins.

He groaned softly as he finally reached his climax, moaning out your name in such a heated tone. He was glad he was wearing a condom, but god did the thought of breeding ran through his head at least once.

He let loose with a loud groan as he came inside you, with the condom still on. His cock began to pulse inside of you as a surge of pleasure flooded his body with everything it ever needed.

He laid down on top of you, panting heavily as his sweat soaked body pressed up against you. His hands went back to their usual spot and laid against your hips as he breathed in sharply, his heart beat quickening even more.

"Oh God," he moaned, his eyes slowly closing in relief. He wanted to be inside you forever. You just felt so good. Too good, he’d say but he didn’t care. He wanted you. So. Much.

Your hands lazily drew circles on his back as you closed your eyes as well and let him fall on top of you. Letting out a deep sigh out of pleasure and relief, you couldn’t help but feel your heart also tug its strings.

“Thank you,” you whispered quietly. If you were asked who would’ve you wanted to have sex with, you’d only say Leon. He knows how to make you happy, he knows how to cheer you and make you feel this good. He knows you. Probably than you know yourself too.

He groaned softly as he heard those words, leaning a little back at you from his position. He leaned down to kiss you softly and gently, breathing in the scent of your hair as he looked into your eyes, his hair falling in front of his eyes, covering half of his face.

"You're welcome," he whispered back, his voice low, calm and soft as he laid back down on you with his face buried into your neck. He pulled you closer and wrapped his arms around your waist.

One thing he couldn't deny in this moment was how perfect this girl was to him. There was something about you that just made him feel complete, something that made everything in life just make sense.

"I love you," he whispered, his eyes still being closed.

“I love you too,” you whispered and closed your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him too. Basking yourself under his weight and warmth- albeit the sweat sticking you two together.

Your breathing slowed down from panting. You felt exhausted but it was worth it. You both needed a shower but you were too lazy right now- you both were too lazy to even move an inch.

This moment was one that he would keep dear to himself for all time. The feel of your skin, the smell of you and the warmth of your body all made him feel home. His fingers were running through your hair, and his breathing was becoming more normal again in that moment.

"We probably need to shower soon," he muttered as he kissed your neck one last time.

“Two more minutes,” you whispered as you held on to him tighter.

He sighed softly into your neck as he lay his forehead against yours. His eyes still closed as he chuckled at your request.

"Fine, two minutes before we get up," he whispered as his breath was still soft against your skin.

You sighed contently and relaxed under him. There were many things to do; get rid of the used condom, take a shower, and do aftercare. But for now, all you needed was to be with him. To feel loved.

And so you did, spending those two extra minutes together. Your bodies were still tightly intertwined, his head pressing against your neck as he gave you little kisses every now and then.

But eventually, his eyes opened and you could hear him sigh again as he shifted his body to be on his side rather than on top of you.

“So… ready for that shower?” You turned your head to the side and as he moved next to you instead of being on top of you.

"Yeah, I think it's about time we finally do so," he sighed as he rolled off of the bed. He stretched his arms upwards and you could hear his back crack at the stretch.

"I’m sticky with sweat all over," he chuckled, grabbing the blanket and placing it over your body before standing up and walking to the bathroom.

You giggled, “Don’t forget the condom,” you teased as he was still wearing the now used condom. You pulled the blanket aside and walked over to him to the bathroom.

He stopped once he heard your teasing, his body freezing from his pace as he looked down between his legs. He groaned as his face turned scarlet from embarrassment, he slowly turned around as all of his cocky confidence disappeared in a single second.

He let loose a laugh and took it off before flicking it into the bin.

He looked back at you and smirked weakly, "I'm going to pretend that never happened."

You chuckled and walked into the bathroom first, “It’s okay, don’t get embarrassed. It happens to hot people,” you grinned as you pulled him to the bathroom by the hands.

"Yeah, whatever," was all he could mumble as he stepped into the bathroom, his arm moving to the sink to turn on the faucet. Although, his smirk and slight snort didn’t go unnoticed by you. It made you happy that you could still tease and have fun with him during these moments.

"I'd say something back but you're pretty hot yourself so I'm not going to talk," he grumbled.

He looked over the shower at you with a raised eyebrow. Leon leaned back against the sink for support and folded his arms over his chest, a small smirk appearing on his face as he was beginning to calm down from his embarrassment.

"Cold," he answered back, without hesitation.

Scrunching up your face, you shook your head disapprovingly, “Cold? Seriously? What, do you live in the North Pole or something?” You joked as you turned the temperature adjustment to cold like he said.

A single chuckle left his mouth as he glared at you, "Shut up," he frowned with a slight giggle, "Don't tell me you're one of those people that likes burning hot water during a shower?"

“Actually yes, I love hot and steamy showers that burn my skin,” you mumbled as you joined him on the cold shower. You wrapped your arms around your body as you shivered, “Holy shit, dude. This is freezing,” you muttered through chittering teeth.

He put his hand around your waist once again and pulled you closer to his body, his chest pressing against your back as he pulled you into his embrace. His body growing warmer than yours as his hand began to rub your stomach. His body heat slowly transferred over to yours.

He sighed quietly and turned the knob up, changing the temperature to a warm feeling, although still not hot. You could feel his hands still wrap around you as his one hand went down underneath your chin and pulled your head back so you'd look at him.

He cupped your face with his hand and brushed your hair back out of your face, "There, is that better?" he asked you as he smirked and looked at you.

“Actually it is,” you huffed and turned back to begin cleaning your body.

He smirked and began to clean himself as well. His eyes gazing at you as the hot water ran down his body. His eyes traveled around every inch of your body as he took a look at you, he couldn't help but feel like he was staring at an image of beauty as you began to bathe yourself.

He couldn’t help it, he wrapped his arms wrapped around your waist from the side as they pulled you back into his form. He couldn’t help it, he loved this sight a little too much. It was so innocent and yet so attractive to him. You could be doing the simplest thing and he’d love it.

He continued to watch you soap yourself up, his face having a hint of a dreamy look in his eyes. His gaze traced your entire body, taking in your curves and how beautiful you were to him as he breathed in deeply.

"You have a beautiful body, you know that," he whispered.

You chuckled and kept lathering yourself in soap, “You think so?” You whispered.

He smirked and nodded his head as he continued to trace you with his eyes, his gaze admiring every single part of your body.

"More than beautiful," he sighed as his eyes continued to wander across your form. He couldn't help but wonder how he had gotten this lucky to have someone as perfect as you in his life.

"The prettiest face I've ever seen too. You're like a goddess to me," he moaned. He put his head against the side of your neck and kissed it softly as his hands moved up and down your body.

"Every inch of you is perfect," he murmured, "I'd say you're even better than a dream."

One could tell he was so madly in love. He never felt love like this, not this strong. And he wanted more. You broke him in the best way possible.

This version of Leon became a version that he hid away and promised himself to never bring back. Yet, in all the time that he’s been your bodyguard, you’ve managed to make him break that promise. His feelings took hold of him, probably for the first time in a while. But this time, he decided not to fight it.

This time, he decided to stay true to himself and let himself be loved and love the one girl who dared enough to love his broken self.

And he couldn’t ask for anything better.

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thesunisatangerine · 8 months

Text

against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part three

alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader

warnings: explicit sexual content

(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]

word count: 3.4k

You woke again nearing midday and, as expected, Ale was nowhere to be found. If it weren’t for the still sensitive marks that she left on your neck and the soreness between your thighs, you would’ve thought it was all a pleasant dream. Something on your nightstand caught your eye as you stretched and when you picked it up, all the remaining doubt shattered.

On the piece of paper was a phone number with a little note that said ‘text me?’ and you couldn’t help the grin that made its way to your lips at the drawn smiley face at the end of it. You picked your phone up, added her to your contacts and sent her a hello-it’s-me text, noted the notification of an email from Derek, and then you got out of bed to get ready for the day.

When you returned to the bedroom from your shower, a message from Ale was waiting for you.

‘Hey, good morning! Listen, as much as I’d love to… have fun with you again, I can’t see you the next few days.’

You laughed at the varying degrees of sad emojis that superseded her text. Then you messaged her back.

‘That’s fine. Just text me when you’re free. And you already know where I am so…’

You abandoned your phone after that in favor of your laptop as you remembered Derek’s email. Upon opening your mail, you found it immediately.

‘Good news. Robert sealed a deal with a client and they want you to follow FC Barcelona in their Liga F campaign this season. We got 5 match passes so far–Robert believes that the client might be inclined to commission for more photos depending on how the club progresses throughout the season.

Find the passes in the attachment as well as the in-depth commission details but in short, apart from the customary team photos, they want photos of the following players prioritised in order: Alexia Putellas, Maria ‘Mapi’ Leon, and Caroline Graham Hansen. I’ll leave the research to you.

On an informal note, the window to decline is still open. As previously discussed, you don’t have to do this. Let me know what you decide as soon as possible.’

You checked the attached files and sure enough, you found the passes for Barcelona’s matches against the following clubs: Real Madrid, Roma, Alhama, Atletico Madrid, and Sporting Huelva. You noted the date for the one against Real Madrid–it was in a couple of days, the same one Ale suggested and a thrill of excitement went down your spine at the thought of possibly seeing her again. Maybe you should message her to let her know that you were going.

You sent a confirmation to Derek before you created a new tab to begin your research. ‘Alexia Putellas’, you typed and hit enter. When the results came back, you stilled.

You blinked.

Then you blinked again.

Of all the places you’d expect to find Ale’s face, a search result about a professional football player was the last thing you could think of. But memories flashed unbidden through your mind: the exclusive night club, Ale’s vague answer about her job, the way her eyes shone whenever you mentioned sports or football, her reflexes, her physique, Ale… Alexia–it all made sense now.

Groaning, you put your face in your hands as your cheeks and ears burnt from the embarrassment that flooded your veins. Oh, how dense could you get! She must’d thought you ignorant for not knowing who she was. Foolish!

But then again… if she didn’t get a kick out of you not knowing, why did she allow the second time to happen? And why promise a third? The thought calmed you down enough to decide not to text Ale–no, Alexia–about this like you’d originally planned especially since you were most likely going to see her at the game anyway.

After another moment to regain your composure for the time being, you proceeded with your research. You clicked on an article, and an article lead to another, which carried you over to a video, and so on. By the end of it, evening had settled and you only managed to discover little. But from what you found out, there was no question to Alexia Putellas’ nascent legacy, both on and off the pitch–an undisputed, modern trailblazer for current and new generations of female athletes. You were gutted to know about her ACL injury though–a quick deviated search made it known to you how serious of an injury it was, especially for an athletic career–and you wondered when she would be able to play again or if she would be playing in the match against Real Madrid. After all, she did say she was going to be there.

You wrapped up your research about Alexia then and you finally moved on to Mapi Leon, then Caroline Graham Hansen. Afterwards, you briefed yourself on the rest of Barcelona Femeni’s 1st Division players as well as the rules of football to come up with a strategy to tackle this task.

A mixture of anxiety and excitement rushed through you as you settled in for the night at the thought of seeing Alexia again now that you know about her identity. You didn’t know what you had gotten yourself into the moment you let her take you to the dance floor but the pull was there from the very beginning. And you decided you were going to see this through to the end.

No. This wasn’t going to change anything at all.

–––

There it was: Estadi Johan Cruyff, home to Barcelona Femeni, stood proud in its blue and red glory.

There was still about an hour and a half left before kickoff but already, people had gathered and started to enter the stadium, you being one of them. Security scanned your press pass as you entered and you were told to head through a different corridor which lead you out to the pitch. Once inside, it was no surprise that the stadium’s interior was no less grand than the outside, the well-tended grass was just a taste to the quality that this place had to offer.

Greeting the other photographers who’d settled in earlier as you walked, you searched for a spot and found it by the space adjacent to the corner flag farthest from the tunnel entrance. There, you placed your duffel bag and your portable stool as you worked to set up your equipment: you double-checked the batteries, attached the right lens to your camera, unwounded your monopod and connected it to your camera.

By the time you looked up, there was already a significant crowd awaiting the players for their warm-ups. You took this chance to take a few shots of the still half-filled stadium, tweaking your settings as you did so and you waited for the players to come out.

About an hour before kickoff, you spied movements inside the tunnel and immediately, your eye was to your viewfinder.

Players from both teams emerged from the tunnel and names popped in your head as you scanned the faces from Barcelona, taking shots of them as they stepped foot on the grass and took off in a jog. There was no sign of Alexia though but you spotted two of your marks on the pitch so you wasted no time to frame them in your camera.

A moment later though, you heard a sudden cheer from the crowd followed by a collective flutter of camera shutters. You lifted your eye from the viewfinder, turned your head to the side and saw that your fellow photographers had their cameras focused to the direction of the tunnel entrance. Your heart quickened. Could it be? And sure enough as you looked to the sidelines, you could make out Alexia’s blonde hair and her unmistakable silhouette. Through your camera’s lens you were able to see her better.

Alexia had on a black leather jacket paired with a top that revealed a strip of skin before the cut of her jeans, finishing her look off with a pair sneakers on and loose blonde hair. She was conversing with her coach, bumping fists and patting the backs of players from both teams who went over to greet her. Then she turned to the stands, waved at their supporters, and she moved close enough for pictures and autographs. She gave one last wave to the fans, shouted an encouraging word to her teammates with a fist in the air, before she headed back into the tunnel. While all of this was happening, you’d framed her through your lens yourself, taking the photos you needed, cheeks warm despite the cooling afternoon air.

Then all the Barcelona players jogged over to the sidelines and huddled, side to side, arm in arm. You took a shot. Not long after that, all of them left the pitch.

The game was about to start.

Alexia wasn’t lying when she said the stadium would get crowded: the stands were filled with blues and reds, flags were flown and waved about, chanted anthems resounded loud and proud in the air–the atmosphere was nothing short of electric.

You’d moved by the sideline close to the tunnel entrance for the beginning of the match along with your fellow photographers so you could capture Barcelona’s starting eleven. When the players came out, they were welcomed by singing and cheers from the crowd. And as they stood there, you took photos of the entire team first before you moved on to focus on Mapi and Caroline.

When the whistle blew and the match began, you were back to your original spot, looking to the stands above the tunnel entrance as you tried to pick Alexia out from the sea of faces through your camera. You managed to a few minutes later, and you found her looking rather pensive: one arm crossed over her chest, the other resting on it as she rubbed her chin with her thumb, eyes focused down at the pitch with her brows slightly creased. It looked like longing to you, a burning desire to return home–to start playing football again. The sight evoked such a feeling in you that you couldn’t help but capture the moment. This shot, however, you were going to keep for yourself.

Now that you knew where Alexia was, following the client’s requisites just got a lot easier. Up until the final whistle, you immersed yourself in your work and the game, focusing more on Mapi and Caroline as they were playing. There were times that allowed you to shift your camera to the stands to where Alexia was and took shots of her, too. By the time you knew it, the game ended and Barcelona won 1-0.

You expected a celebration from Barcelona because they were in their turf after all so you loaded up your camera with a freshly charged battery. The next thing you knew, Alexia was there with the team, hugging and patting them congratulations and her teammates beamed at her, happy to see her there.

Click You took a shot.

The players then began their procession around the stadium, waving at and signing things for their supporters. Through your camera, you saw Mapi signing the shirt of a young girl. Click. Next to her was Caroline, reaching over the barrier to sign a ball, smiling as she talked to the boy holding it. Click.

The procession was near enough that you could hear their banters, growing louder as they approached where you were and the beating of your heart thumped as loud as the chants from the crowd. You congratulated the players as they passed and kept your camera away out of respect. You looked at the end of the line and you met Alexia’s gaze. She was smiling at you while she talked to Irene Paredes beside her and she never took her eyes off you. There was a gleam in them, something akin to mischief and… a challenge? If so, why?

At that you raised an unimpressed brow at her, both a question and a statement. Your reaction seemed to amuse her because her smile turned into a full smirk.

The procession passed but Alexia lagged behind, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Irene who threw Alexia a questioning look. You watched as Alexia waved her off before she began walking your way and you didn’t miss the fluttering of shutters from your fellow photographers’ cameras. Some called Alexia’s name to get her attention but she ignored them, her attention only at you. You barely had enough time to school your features and hide any signs of familiarity before she was standing in front of you.

“Hey, you. You made it here after all.” Alexia said cooly, lips slanted in a half-smile, one hand in a jean pocket.

“Yeah, I did. Sorry, but do I know you?” You asked in an excessively dry tone paired with an raised eyebrow, but you made sure your voice was just loud enough for her to hear. Catching your drift, Alexia laughed, rubbing the bridge of her nose to try and cover it up.

“I suppose not,” she extended a hand towards you, “I’m Alexia, and I’m sorry about… you know.”

“Nice to officially meet you, Alexia. Congratulations on the win, by the way.” You shook her hand, ignored the way her warmth seeped into your skin, and hummed. “You know, you remind me of someone I know. Your resemblance to her is uncanny.”

Alexia nodded as she took her hand back, lips quirked. “I think I know who you’re talking about. I think she also wants to know if she could stop by later tonight?”

Your cheeks warmed and you didn’t fight the smile that made its way to your face. “I did tell her she could whenever she’s free.”

“So, yes?”

“Yes.”

———

You braced your weight against the headboard, forehead over your folded arms, eyes barely open and the erotic sight in front of you did nothing to help the building flood in you. With your thighs bracing her head and from this angle, you could only see Alexia’s closed eyes but you felt her hands roaming and supporting your lower back as her mouth and tongue worked on you.

She was taking her sweet time though, brushing her tongue over your clit lightly, sucking just enough to build up the pleasure but nothing too much to bring you over the edge. You whined because she did it again only with more pressure this time, circling your clit a few times before she moved away again. You were starting to learn that she liked to play; she liked to take her time and get as many reactions from you until she was satisfied, until she’d completely unravelled you.

A particularly cruel swipe of her tongue, accompanied by the obscenely wet sound it made, nearly incited a sob from your lips but the plea you made was nothing short of similar.

“Ale… please…” You panted.

“–my name.”

“Huh?” You whined out, not hearing what Alexia said after a flick from her tongue sent shivers down your spine.

“Say my name.”

Then she circled your clit with more urgency after she said that–demanding. You keened and ignored her, canting your hips forward to chase that delicious friction you were desperately searching for.

“Ale… Ale… please!”

Then she stilled completely and you cried out in protest, eyes flying open to meet lidded hazel ones.

“What–”

“Say my name.” She licked your inner thigh deliberately close to where you wanted it the most.

“Alexia, pl–” You didn’t even need to beg because right after her name left your mouth, overwhelming heat was all you could feel as she ate you out earnestly. Her hands gripped your thighs so tight that you wouldn’t be able to pull away–not that you could ever do such a thing.

“Oh, fuck!”

Euphoria tore through your body in concurrent waves with brutal intensity that it ripped the strength from your bones while your muscles shook helplessly. Even the gentle touches from Alexia tongue as she cleaned you up were enough to make you hiss from overstimulation.

God… she really did a number on you this time.

After you finally calmed down, you shifted so that you could lay by Alexia’s side, kissing your way up from the column of her neck to her lips where you found your taste heavy on her tongue. You dragged your fingers from the crest of her hip to her breast, feeling the ridges of her hard-earned muscles as you did so and revelled in the way they tensed beneath your touch, the softness of her breast a beautiful contrast to the firmness of her stomach.

Alexia gasped when you rolled her nipple between your fingers and you gladly swallowed it as you deepened the kiss. You slotted your leg to apply pressure between her thighs, ample wetness coated your skin and you couldn’t help but moan at her arousal.

You nipped a path down between the valley of her breasts but not before you had given both of her nipples the attention they deserved. You continued your journey, licking and nipping at her skin as you moved down her toned stomach.

As soon as you reached her navel, she parted her legs to make space for you. You kissed her inner thighs, loving the way they tensed beneath your lips and as you trailed closer to her core, you flashed your gaze upwards to meet hers. When you finally got the first taste of her tonight, you watched intently through lidded eyes as she closed hers, dropping her head on the pillow and sighed out a long, low moan.

You gave her a few slow and broad strokes, closing your eyes as you savoured her taste. When she began to urge her hips quicker, you picked up your pace all the while mapping her thighs and stomach with your palms.

You found you liked how responsive she was to your touches, liked the way she demanded for more which you gladly gave to her as she asked for them. And when she cradled the back of your head and buried her fingers in your hair so she could meet your tongue the way she wanted it, you moaned loudly, taking from the way she took hers from you.

“Yes, right there, just–” Her back arched and you clung to her hips like a lifeline. You rolled your tongue against her and sucked, not wanting to disrupt the pace of her fall.

And fall, she did.

She came on your tongue and you accepted it with a grateful moan, slowing down your pace as she came back down from her high. It was sticky and heady, a reward that you lapped up eagerly, and from the pleased way Alexia threaded her fingers through your hair, she was satisfied. Like her, you took your time cleaning her up because after all it was only polite to do so and you enjoyed the way her leg muscle tensed when you kissed her clit one last time.

Content with your work, you kissed the top of her left thigh as a form of gratitude but instead of making your way up, you traced the line of muscle that lead down to her knee where scars from her injury had carved themselves permanently into her skin.

You’d kissed those same scars the last time you were together without knowing the story behind them and now that you know, you dragged your lips over them ever more softly, looking Alexia in the eye as you did so. She watched you intently with lips slightly parted, eyes dark and lidded.

Alexia bent forward so she could reach out to you, lifting your chin with a gentle hand. Then she brushed her thumb over your upper lip to wipe the wetness there but before she could pull it away, you parted your lips and took her thumb into you mouth, sucking and licking off the taste there, never taking your eyes off hers.

“My god,” came her breathless murmur before she moaned out, “come here.”

Then she guided you to her mouth with her gentle grip on your chin and before you knew it, you were under her again, sighing in grateful surrender to the mercy of her and her hands. She kissed and ravaged you many times over–and you, her–that by the end of the night, you’d completely forgotten the weight of her name.

#ap11 #not proofread #mine #my writing #a/n: a bit late but i finally finished it omfg #ngl i rushed this so im extra sorry for any grammar and spelling mistakes...#and how do people write smut its so bloody difficult ahhhhhh #hope you guys like this and would love to know what you think about the story so far #just a reminder: im tweaking minor details as i go so the most accurate copy of all the parts will be on my ao3 (@thesunisatangerine)#apologies for any grammar and spelling mistakes ill work on em later #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader

674 notes · View notes

training4theapocalypse · 1 year

Text

Thirsty (Adrian Chase x fem!reader)

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only

Word Count: 7.5k

Warnings: SMUT, Mutual pining, Romance, Canon typical descriptions of murder and violence, Dubious consent (they are both kind of drunk), Oral (fem receiving), P in V, Safe sex (male condom), Multiple orgasms

Summary: Your job restocking vending machines takes you to businesses all over Evergreen - including Fennel Fields where the cute busboy keeps making eyes at you. (Based on this ask by @kpopgirlbtssvt)

A/N: There’s a part where Adrian picks the reader up over his shoulder but he is a very strong boi, I am confident he could shoulder carry any thirsty MF. PS My toxic trait is that I slip a reference to Scotland in literally everything I write.

Masterlist

Tag list: @likeficsinthewnd, @she-wolf09231982,

Chapter text:

The muscles in your forearms ache as you drag your hand cart, stacked with cases of soda and water, up the ramp at the back of Fennel Fields.

You wheel your final delivery of the day straight into their break room, as usual, and park your cart beside the vending machine, ready to start your restock. You’re greeted amicably by the staff, who know you well enough that they’re not surprised to see you.

But one particularly familiar face spots you from across the room and practically leaps off his chair. Adrian Chase looks forward to your weekly trip to Fennel Fields, and today he can’t help but notice the glow on your face from hauling your delivery. He wonders what else makes your face glow like that. He bets he could.

“Hey, stranger,” you say, and he blinks at you as if snapping out of something.

“Stranger? It’s me, Adrian.”

You grin. You can’t tell if he’s joking or not but either way, you find it sort of cute. And, yes, Taylor warned you to stop flirting with the hot but kind of dorky busboy because he’s gonna end up catching feelings, but there’s something fun about getting him all flustered and making his cheeks burn.

“I know, Adrian. I could never forget that pretty face,” you tease. He turns slightly pink. There it is. “Thirsty?” you ask.

“Yup, and wait til you see what I got you.”

This has been your routine at Fennel Fields for a few months now. You pick up some speciality soda while you’re delivering beverages across Washington and Adrian brings you something- usually a snack or anything else he thinks you might like.

“Three… two… one.” At the same time, you pull the soda out from your bag and Adrian hands you a small, blue rectangular box.

A cassette tape. Aqua- Aquarium.

“Adrian! This is so sick- it’s so hard to find tapes these days.” You flip it over to read the tracklist. “I fucking love Barbie Girl.”

“Me too! And I noticed your Walkman, so I thought you could use some more music.” He looks down at the orange and blue soda can in his hands, reading the label. “IRN BRU?”

“This is the weirdest soda I’ve found yet. It’s like bubblegum cream soda but it burns.”

He cracks it open, takes a sip and looks confused. “I think I like it?” He takes another sip. “It’s like my mouth hates it but needs more.”

“I know, right?” You put the cassette in your bag and open the vending machine.

“Thanks for the soda.” He nods at your tired arms as you start loading in your delivery. “Sick forearm pump, by the way.”

“Uh, what?”

“Yeah! You can totally tell you’ve been working on them- they’re huge.”

You raise an eyebrow. It’s probably meant as a compliment, but you’re not sure how you feel about Adrian talking to you like you’re one of his bros at the gym.

“I mean- not huge! Like normal. But nice. And-“

“Have you seen Taylor?” You decide to step in before he can dig this particular hole any deeper. “I need him to sign for this.”

“What’s up, Cuz?” Taylor appears from around a corner.

You hold out your electronic POS and stylus, awaiting his signature. “Just need you to sign this, then I’m done for the night.”

“Nice!” says Adrian “You got any plans after this?”

“Depends on who’s asking,” you tease him, a small balloon swells up in your chest with excitement. You’ve never been sure whether Adrian’s always so excited to see you because he likes you or if he just really likes soda.

“Uh, me, Adrian. Remember?”

“Hey man, what did I tell you about hitting on my cousin?” Taylor gives him a stern look. “Don’t you have a pregnant girlfriend to be worried about?”

You’re surprised, to say the least. The fact that Adrian has a girlfriend (a pregnant one at that) but he still goes out of his way to exchange gifts with you every week is kind of disappointing. It reaffirms your belief that there are no decent men in this town.

“Yes! I mean, no. We, uh, we broke up.”

“Because of the party you tried to throw her?” asks Taylor.

Aw, that’s kind of sweet.

“Uh, yeah, she did not appreciate the abortion party.”

What the fuck?

Taylor signs for the delivery and hands you back the device, giving you a meaningful look- I told you so. The balloon of excitement in your chest feels well and truly punctured.

“But I mean, I’m not hung up on her or anything. I actually dumped her.”

Yup, no decent men alright.

You and Taylor exchange glances. You can practically hear the wet raspberry of the balloon deflating completely.

“I’d better go. Thanks for the tape, dude,” you say a little more coolly than you’d intended in your hurry to hide your dismay before wheeling your cart out of the break room.

“Hey, let me help you with that,” Adrian’s voice calls from behind you, but Taylor grabs the door before he can.

“I got it, man.”

Taylor walks with you to the van. You lean up against the cab door in exasperation. Taylor offers you a cigarette which you go to accept, but he retracts the packet.

“Nuh-uh, let’s hear it first.”

“Fine,” you sigh. “You are so full of wisdom, as always, and I will forever heed your dating advice from now until the end of time,” you concede to Taylor, snatching a cigarette. He grins and lights you both up.

“Y’know what the weird thing is? I don’t think he ever had a girlfriend.”

You exhale a puff of smoke in surprise. “What was that about then?”

“I dunno. I caught him out here celebrating one night, and he made up a weird abortion party story. I think he was really out here dancing because Peacemaker came into the restaurant-“

“Peacemaker?! Jeez, isn’t that guy in jail?”

“Musta released him. But I think Adrian was being an excited fanboy and got embarrassed when I saw him. Dude’s a serial liar- I thought he’d come clean if I asked him about it in front of you.”

You lean your head back against the van. “Where are all the decent men in Evergreen?” You lament and start rhyming off, counting on your fingers. “They’re either obsessed with capes, racists, racist capes or racists who are obsessed with capes!”

“Well, speaking of capes, it’s getting dark. You better hit the road before you run into that nutcase, Vigilante.”

“Yeah, or the escaped gorilla,” you laugh, stubbing out your cigarette.

“Put that in the trash or you’ll end up with a bullet in your head for littering.”

“I’ve charmed my way out of worse situations. Besides, maybe he’ll be the one to sweep me off my feet.”

“Vigilante? Or the gorilla?”

“Honestly, at this point, I’d take either.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The following afternoon, your delivery route sends you off down the highway. It’s not a glamorous job, stocking vending machines at different businesses all over the place, but it’s easy, and you can listen to your own music. It takes you all across this little corner of Washington, and the more you see, the more grateful you are that you get to live in this beautiful, rocky state.

Even if there isn’t a single eligible man to be found on your entire route. You still feel a little crestfallen thinking about Adrian Chase. Why was he so intent on lying to Taylor yesterday? How deep does his Peacemaker obsession go if he was that embarrassed?

You pull up to the back of the Glan Tai bottling plant on the outskirts of Evergreen, put on your headphones and turn on your Walkman. You want to keep a low profile because the clients are much weirder here than the rest- Adrian Chase excluded.

They weren’t always like this. The facilities manager at Glan Tai was a friendly old man - Clive- who let you use their bathroom, and gave you filter coffee from a polystyrene cup to ease your two-hour journey home. Until one day recently, Clive wasn’t so friendly anymore. New management, you expected.

Head down, you drag your cart through the service entrance and make your way to their storage room. Aqua blasts in your ears as you wheel your way along the corridor. There are loud bangs and the ground vibrates slightly, but it’s nothing out of the ordinary in a site with heavy machinery.

You get to the room where they keep the IT equipment, files and vending machine and start unloading. You feel a heavy hand on your shoulder and pull your headphones down around your neck.

“Oh, sorry Clive, I didn’t see you-“

You freeze, icy fear spreading through your veins as you find yourself face to face with - you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me - the escaped gorilla from the zoo.

You scream. Loudly.

Two people burst into the room, startling the gorilla. It backs away from you. For a second, you think they’re factory workers running to your rescue. But they slam and bolt the storage room door shut behind them.

“No! Unlock the door!”

They whip around and point their guns at you. You drop the case of water you’re holding and hold your hands up in surrender.

One of them, you recognise from the news. A man in a black and teal suit, armed to the hilt, with his face almost entirely obscured- except by a red visor covering his eyes.

It’s him. It’s Vigilante. And a blonde woman you don’t recognise.

He lowers his gun and nudges hers away from your direction.

“Shoot her before she kills us both!” snaps the woman, irritated.

“She’s not a butterfly,” says Vigilante, his voice muffled behind his mask. “I know her.”

He knows me? How?

“I’m just delivering water, I swear!” You beg her, looking between them.

Just then, the gorilla appears from behind the shelves and launches the blonde woman across the room.

An involuntary yelp of shock escapes you again and the gorilla returns its attention to you. Thinking fast, you tip your cart forward, and the giant ape trips up on the cascade of cans and bottles.

“You didn’t think to tell us there was a gorilla in here?!” Comes the annoyed blonde woman’s voice from behind a broken table.

“I was preoccupied with the guns in my face!”

The door to the storage room is blasted open and another woman bursts in, followed by none other than Peacemaker.

Adrian would lose his shit right now, you think to yourself.

Peacemaker looks at you through the eyeholes of his helmet “She’s clear, Adebayo” and the other woman lowers her gun. The gorilla gets up. “Oh shit!” says Peacemaker as it sends a swipe in your direction, sending you tumbling off your feet and onto the floor.

You cower in the corner as they fight the gorilla. Vigilante stabs it but it bats him away easily and does the same to the woman called Adebayo. Peacemaker launches himself onto the gorilla’s back but the beast throws him off onto the hard floor.

“Die, human!”

Did that gorilla just speak? What have you gotten yourself into?

The gorilla raises its fists, ready to crush Peacemaker, when a man with an oddly patchy beard runs through the door, chainsaw in hand and proceeds to kill the gorilla, sawing it almost in half and sending blood splattering everywhere.

A small winged creature crawls out of the dead gorilla’s mouth. The blonde woman gets to her feet and shoots it casually. What the…? Was that some kind of parasite?

The gunshot leaves your ears ringing but hearing your name whispered in your ear brings you back to reality. You blink stupidly at Vigilante, who is now crouched down inches from your face and you try to make out his eyes through the red visor. You know those eyes. But how? How does the mass murderer of Evergreen know you?

He hooks his arms under yours, lifts you to your feet and wipes the smattering of blood off your face. Your heart is racing as you continue to stare at him silently, dumbfounded. You know you should be scared of this masked man, who’s wanted on multiple counts of murder. But here he is, claiming he knows you, making sure you’re okay.

“What do we do with her?” asks the bearded man with the chainsaw.

“Who, me?” you try and sound nonchalant. “I didn’t see anything. I’ll just get out of your beard- hair! I mean hair.” You go to put your headphones back over your ears but the blonde woman rips them off.

“Hey!” Vigilante steps between you and her. “Look, she’s cool. She says she didn’t see anything, so she didn’t”

“How do you know she’s not a butterfly?” she challenges Vigilante.

“X-ray helmet,” interjects Peacemaker. “No butterfly in that pretty little noggin.” He winks at you and Vigilante bristles, folding his arms in an irritated sort of way.

“Listen, I’ve got like four more deliveries today so…” You trail off as your body starts to go on autopilot. There’s an awkward silence as they watch you bustle around, stacking the blood-covered cases of water and soda back onto your cart.

“She’s clearly in shock,” says Adebayo, more gently than the blonde.

“Hey, let me help you with that,” says a muffled voice from behind you.

‘Hey, let me help you with that.’

In the exact same cadence as yesterday.

“A-Adrian?” you say hoarsely and you turn back around in time to watch Vigilante drop the case of water. “Adrian Chase?!” you repeat, your voice slightly hysterical.

“No!” says Adrian unconvincingly but at the same time Peacemaker says:

“Godammit Vij. How does she know you?”

Adrian groans in frustration. “She delivers drinks to my job too!”

“That settles it- she’s a witness and she knows Vigilante’s identity. Adebayo, you need to end this. Don’t make her beg for her life like the other guy,” commands the blonde woman, clearly in charge of the team.

“Nonononononono,” Adrian stands in front of you with his arms folded. “No way. I am not letting you kill her.”

“That’s an order, Adebayo. Vigilante- move.”

“Wait,” says the guy with the beard. “She might actually be useful, Harcourt.”

Harcourt raises her eyebrows. “Well?”

“We’re looking for other leads, right? Other places where the butterflies are?” He looks at you. “Hey, water girl. Does this company have any other locations?”

“Y-yes,” your throat feels dry.

“Can you tell us where they are?” he asks.

“Will you let me live if I tell you?”

Everyone looks at Harcourt. She groans. “Fine. But we’re gonna need to figure out what to do with her to keep her from blabbering.”

“C’mon, she already said she was cool!” says Adrian.

“And you trust her?”

“One hundo percent.” He gives you a reassuring thumbs up.

“I wouldn’t trust his judgement,” says Peacemaker and you immediately feel faint. It must be obvious on your face because he backtracks. “No! Not that we should kill her! Definitely not. But Adrian would trust any hot girl. We can’t just let her go.”

Harcourt pinches the bridge of her nose as she thinks.

“Vigilante,” she says finally. “I’m telling Murn that water girl is your responsibility. You’re going to keep her with you 24/7 until the mission is over. Any fuck-up, if she does or says anything that jeopardizes our objective, she’s dead and you’ll be doing black ops in Belize. Got it?”

“Cool, got it!” says Adrian enthusiastically, as if that isn’t the most horrifying thing he’s ever heard.

“Wait, don’t I get a say in this? I have a job! I have people who will be looking for me.”

“Do you want to cooperate or do you want to die?”

“Which one do you wanna do?” asks Adrian.

If you hadn’t already figured out that Vigilante was Adrian Chase, that would have been the dead giveaway.

A few moments later, Adrian is leading you by the hand back through the factory to where your van is parked while you cover your eyes with one hand. He had suggested it after your knees almost gave way when you saw the pile of bodies at the door. And he liked that you had rejected Peacemaker’s offer to hoist you over his shoulder and carry you out.

“Oh, no… Clive,” you whisper, making the mistake of opening your eyes and seeing the old man crumpled on the floor, next to the coffee machine. You cover your eyes again.

“Watch you don’t slip in the blood here,” says Adrian gently, guiding you to side-step.

You groan. You think you might puke.

“I can’t believe you killed all these people,” you whisper, wishing you could disassociate from this whole thing.

“We didn’t, not really- I promise. I’ll explain on the ride home.”

Harcourt instructs Adrian to drive your van, following theirs back to Evergreen. When you’re both out of earshot and in your van, Adebayo sits in the driver’s seat turning to Harcourt, Peacemaker and Economos. “Isn’t it kind of weird seeing Vigilante like this?”

“Like what?” asks Economos.

“Like, compassionate, sweet… not all hell-bent on murder?”

Peacemaker shrugs “He’s like this all the time. You should hear the way he talks about this other girl, his friend Taylor’s sister, or cousin, I think. He’s just a sucker for anyone who’s nice to him.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hours later, you’re sitting on the couch in your apartment, waiting for Adrian to finish up in the shower.

On the drive to their headquarters, Adrian had explained all about their mission and how an alien race called ‘the butterflies’ had taken over the bodies of (and, therefore, killed) all those people in the factory long before Adrian’s team had arrived.

At headquarters, you had told them everything you knew about your clients at Glan Tai and had given them the coordinates for their other delivery location- a small farm thirty miles north of the factory. Murn seemed to be satisfied with your intel and approved of Harcourt’s plan to have Adrian keep you under close surveillance. Great.

Adrian grabbed his go-bag from his Sebring and drove the two of you in your van back to your apartment, where you immediately ran to the shower, to try and rid yourself of all the negative feelings from today.

He now appears in your living room, fresh out of the shower in a pale blue t-shirt and jeans, looking much less out of place than when he was in his full combat gear. But he still stands awkwardly, not sure what to do with himself.

“Thirsty?” you ask him. “I’ve got wine.”

“I shouldn’t. I’m supposed to be keeping an eye on you.”

You find two wine glasses and place them on the coffee table. He sits on the edge of your couch. “What am I gonna do, Adrian?” You open up a bottle of red wine and start pouring. “I could barely stand seeing all that shit at the factory. Do you really think I’m gonna kill you?” You slide a glass towards him and start filling your own.

He looks down at the wine but doesn’t touch it. You raise your glass. “To forgetting the worst day of my life.”

“The worst day of your life? Today was awesome!” He looks genuinely surprised that you’re not sharing his elation. “We killed a ton of butterflies, and now thanks to you, we know where they keep their cow.”

It’s a sentence that wouldn’t have made sense to you a few hours ago. And you hate that it does now.

“We’re saving the world,” he continues. “And you helped!”

You push his wine glass closer to him. “To saving the world, then.”

He takes a sip and screws up his face. “Do you have any beer? Ooh, or soda!”

“It’s in the van. And most of it’s covered in blood now.”

“Then this is great,” he says, a little too politely.

“If you’re not used to it, the first glass tastes like acetone,” you tell him, draining yours. “But the second one…” You pause, pouring yourself another. “The second goes down real smooth.”

Adrian copies you and gulps down the red wine. You refill his glass, and he takes another sip.

“The second one isn’t so bad, actually.” He sounds surprised.

You sink down on the couch next to him. “So now what?” you ask. He looks confused, so you elaborate. “What do you usually do with hostages all night?”

“You’re not a hostage!” He looks offended. “I’m more like your bodyguard.”

“Oh yeah? Who are you guarding me from? Your friends?”

He looks up over his glasses in thought. “Well, just Harcourt. And Murn. But it’s mostly to keep you safe from the butterflies.”

You take another drink of wine. Studying his face, you think he’s telling the truth. He really doesn’t consider you to be his hostage. As you look him over, you realise you’ve never noticed how curly his hair is before- he’s normally wearing that dorky little Fennel Fields hat.

You’ve always thought he was cute in a wholesome kind of way but now that he’s out of his work uniform, you can appreciate that he’s, like, ridiculously, conventionally handsome. You wonder if he knows it. You wonder a lot of things about Adrian, especially now that, come to think of it, everything you know about him is probably a lie to keep his secret identity hidden.

“Truth or dare?” you blurt.

“What?”

“Go on.” You gesture towards him with your glass. “We’ve got a long night. I want to find out more about you. Adrian. Vigilante.”

He looks excited. Maybe it’s the prospect of playing a game, or maybe he’s just happy someone wants to know more about him. Both sides of him.

“Truth then.”

“Does your pregnant ex-girlfriend exist?”

He groans and leans his head back on the couch, staring at the ceiling. “No. I was just trying to cover how stoked I was that Peacemaker was out of jail.”

You laugh, but your eyes linger on his exposed neck and the way his Adam’s apple moves when he talks.

He turns his head to look over at you through his wire-rimmed glasses. “I don’t think Taylor likes me.”

“Taylor likes you just fine,” you lie, sipping your wine.

“Truth or dare?” asks Adrian.

“Truth.”

“Has Taylor ever told you that you shouldn’t date me?”

“Ugh, fine. Yes. He told me not to give you my number.”

“Why?!”

“If you want to ask a follow-up question, then you need to take a drink. That’s the rule.” He does so- quickly. “Okay, fine. He says he doesn’t trust you because you’re always lying about things, and it kind of annoys everyone because you’re a bad liar.”

“Everyone?! I thought we were talking about Taylor?”

“If you want to be liked and have a secret identity, you need to be a better liar.”

“Okay, that’s fair,” admits Adrian, twisting the stem of the glass between his fingers. “Your turn, truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

He thinks for a couple of beats. “I dare you to finish your drink.”

“Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“It was the only dare I could think of that wasn’t a sexy dare.”

The newly formed idea of Adrian asking you to do something sexy for him makes you pause. Warmth pools deep in your tummy as watches you, waiting. God, why does red wine always make you feel so slutty? You raise your eyebrows over the rim of your glass, and you drain the rest of the liquid. “Why don’t you want to give me a sexy dare?” you ask, setting your glass down.

“I dunno, don’t you think there’s kind of a power imbalance?”

“That’s true. You are my bodyguard after all.” You nod contemplatively. “And I guess it would be awkward since you need to stay here for a few more days.”

“Oh, I meant-” Adrian cuts himself off. What he really meant would sound incredibly childish now.

You get up from the couch to retrieve another bottle of wine from the breakfast bar that separates your kitchen from your living room. “Go on, what did you mean?”

“No, I meant what you said.”

No, he didn’t. What he meant is that you have all the power because he has such a huge crush on you. And the way the wine is going to his head, he’s not sure he trusts himself to give you a dare without it having an ulterior motive. Adrian watches as you twist the corkscrew into the bottle with precision. Your chest jiggles in your tank top with the recoil of your arm extracting the cork, and it makes Adrian blush bright red. He discreetly adjusts himself in his jeans.

You bring the new bottle of wine over to the couch and sit down cross-legged, your back leaning against the armrest so you can get a better look at him without constantly straining. Fuck, he’s gorgeous like this, you think, as he gets comfortable, changing position so he can look at you too. In the soft light of your living room, you can make out that his cheeks are pink again. “Does wine usually make you flush like that?” you ask.

“Uh, I wouldn’t know. Can wine do that?”

“To some people, yeah. For me, it just makes me feel kinda sexy.” You clap your hand to your mouth, watching Adrian’s eyes widen. “Ugh! Sorry, I wouldn’t have said that if I hadn’t had two glasses already.” You scoff and shake your head. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

The wine is making you feel bolder. “Have you had sex in your Vigilante costume?”

“Today?”

You almost choke on your newly poured drink with laughter.

“Okay, that answers that question. In which case, I have a follow-up,” You take a sip, pointedly. “What’s Vigilante’s favourite sex position?”

“Oh, uh…” Adrian thinks back to when he last had sex as Vigilante, with Amber and Peacemaker a few days ago. “Any, I guess.”

“Any? C’mon, you picked truth!”

“It is the truth! I don’t take my mask off, or my suit if I don’t have to. So it always feels the same. Fun, I guess, but sorta uncomfortable. Funcomfortable.”

You smile and rest your head on your hand, elbow leaning on the back of the couch. “What about Adrian?”

“Is that another follow-up question?”

You acquiesce and take another drink but before you can even swallow he says “Missionary.”

“Boring,” you tease but he doesn’t seem fazed.

“It’s not. Not when you really like someone anyway. Missionary is fucking great - when you can kiss them, hold their hand, stare into their eyes…” He pauses, his green eyes burning into yours. “Boring is not being able to even taste someone because of my mask.”

You realise you’ve been holding your breath. You look away and exhale slowly, trying to steady the growing arousal burning hot, deep in your pelvic floor.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I-” When you raise your head again, he’s still looking at you intently. “I just realised I haven’t been fucked like that in a really long time.”

He shakes his head. “Yeah right! I bet you go on tons of dates.”

“I do,” you admit with a tilt of your head. “But did you know that like 90% of women don’t orgasm on a one-night stand?”

Adrian’s eyebrows knit together “That doesn’t sound right. Women always cum when I-”

“That’s what all men say, Adrian. But honestly, I don’t think a man has made me cum in, like, the entire time I’ve been single.”

“I could,” he says, matter-of-factly. It’s not a boast, it’s a simple statement.

Honestly, you're not sure if it’s the alcohol or the vivid image you have of Adrian making you clutch at your bedsheets and moan his name, but something’s making the blood rush to your face and other parts of your body that you’re still desperately trying not to think about.

“I’ll do it right now if you want?”

He’s asking if he can try to make you cum as casually as if asking if he can help you restock the vending machine. It’s bolder than you’d expected from the shy busboy. Then again, you’d never expected him to be Vigilante either… maybe you should review all the preconceptions you have of him.

Your abdomen clenches. Fuck, you can feel how hot and sticky your underwear is as he blinks at you behind his glasses, waiting for your response.

You look at his face hungrily, eyes lingering on his lips, now stained with red wine. “Adrian, listen. I’m sure you’re very good, blah blah blah. But I just… I don’t want to set you up for disappointment. It’s kind of hard to make me cum.”

“Let me give it a shot. And if I can make you cum, you let me take you on a date.”

You stare at him, feeling your chest pounding as you contemplate his offer. There’s something about his voice that’s so sincere and so fucking desperate for you, your brain can’t think of a reason not to say yes.

“Truth or dare?” he asks, breaking the silence.

“Truth.”

“Do you want me to go down on you? I’m really good at it.”

Yes! You want to scream- already stupidly soaking fucking wet at the mere idea of it.

Instead, you squeeze your eyes shut and nod. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“Yeah?” His tone makes you think that he wasn’t really expecting you to say yes.

“Yes, Adrian.” You laugh in disbelief. “If you make me cum, you can take me on a date.” He grins and you shift inelegantly, not sure how to proceed. “So… how do you wanna-”

Adrian pounces on you before you can ask the question, his red-stained lips crashing against yours. You kiss him back- hard. You’re thirsty for him, you realise, as you taste the alcohol mixed with the slightly metallic taste of his saliva. You want to drain him, drown in him.

He groans when you grab the nape of his neck and suck on his bottom lip. He can’t believe that you’re kissing him like this- like it’s you who’s been pining after him and not the other way around.

You pause, lips barely touching his. “Fuck, I’ve wanted to kiss you like this for so long,” you whisper.

“You- you have?”

“Adrian, I spend half my week trying to find you new kinds of speciality soda just so I have an excuse to talk to you.”

“Oh.” Realisation dawns on him. All this time he just thought you were really, really into soda.

Adrian gives you one last deep kiss and pulls away. He gets on his knees on the floor, and the sight of him there, with his hands on your hips and his body between your legs, makes your cunt clench. You bite your lips in anticipation.

His fingertips hook the hem of your sweatpants. “Can I take these off?” You lift your hips, permitting him to remove them.

“Fuck,” he breathes, staring at your pussy.

“Adrian…” You mumble, suddenly self-conscious. Exposed. You try to bring your knees together, but he places a hand on each of your thighs, holding them firmly open.

“You’re wet already,” he says, in a self-satisfied sort of way that makes your skin feel like it’s on fire. “When did that happen? Was it when I said I’d make you cum?”

You shake your head. “When I was wondering what kind of sexy dare you wanted to give me.”

He grins “I wanted to dare you to take your top off.” He traces a finger along your hot, wet folds. You gasp, feeling the calloused texture of his fingertip brushing up and down against your skin.

“Like this?” You lift your tank top up and over your head, tossing it aside and then you squeeze your tits together.

He sits on the floor, lips parted slightly in awe. You feel like he’s looking at you like you’re the most-

“You’re the most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

Now you really are embarrassed but before you can respond, he dips the finger that was sliding along your folds into your pussy. You bite your lip to stifle the vulnerable, blissful sigh that leaves you.

“It’s okay- you can moan for me.” He reassures, pushing a thick finger in and up. You feel your walls squeezing around him in response. “God, you’re so tight around my finger.”

“Fuck-” you plead, as he teases you, gently stroking your g-spot. His lips haven’t even touched you yet and you already feel like you’re having to consciously stop yourself from cumming.

“You needed this, huh?” he asks and you watch as he kisses your inner thigh, sucking the sensitive skin there. You have to look away- just the sight of his jaw muscles moving as he traces his tongue along the crevice where your thigh meets your body almost sends you over the brink.

“Adrian, I’m- fuck-” After all your warnings about how difficult it would be to make you cum, you’re are shamefully close already- and Adrian knows it. Everything below your waist is hot and shaking and swollen as his finger curls up inside you, tapping rhythmically.

“Wait not yet- I’ve got to taste you. I want you to cum on my tongue.”

Warmth envelopes your clit as Adrian opens his mouth and slowly glides his tongue over the bundle of nerves there, tasting you for the first time. He barely moves at all but you’re so close that just the pressure of his mouth on you sends the crashing wave of your orgasm rolling across his hot tongue. Your back arches and your walls clamp down around his finger.

He lets out a groan, sending pleasant vibrations across your clit.

“Shit, Adrian-”

Blinding lights appear somewhere between your eyelids and the centre of the universe. Your thighs tense as the pleasure shoots through your body, your pussy flooding his mouth between your legs.

When you finally stop twitching he removes his tongue from you, giving you a moment’s respite.

“That was, like, really easy,” he smirks as you run your hands through your hair in disbelief. “I didn’t even have to take my glasses off.”

“I’ve never-” You try to catch your breath, blinking at him. You’re not sure you’ve even made yourself cum that quickly before. “That’s never happened -so fast- ever.”

“I shoulda asked what two orgasms would get me.”

“Literally anything. Do whatever you want with me-” you babble, staring up at the ceiling. You pause to look down when you feel him remove his finger from inside you.

And he takes off his glasses, ready to make you a fucking mess.

It’s the singular hottest action you’ve ever seen anyone do in your entire life- Adrian Chase is going to be the end of you.

He hooks his arms behind your knees, lifting your ass off of the couch and pulling you towards him.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he says, mesmerised by the way your chest still heaves in the aftershock of your orgasm. Adrian buries his face between your legs, delving his tongue between your lips and exploring your entrance.

He pulls back for a second “I knew you’d taste so fucking good.”

Fuck.

You watch as he sucks on two of his fingers and sinks them deep inside you, up to his knuckles. When you repeat his name over and over, he answers by flicking his tongue over your clit.

You gasp at the sensation and grab a fistful of his thick, curly hair. His tongue rolls gentle circles around your clit as his fingers work in and out, softly stretching your pussy. Adrian takes his time now and it’s agonising.

For so long he’s been having sex as Vigilante. Adrian’s missed this, the freedom of having his mask off. Of taste. And he can’t believe that it’s you that he’s devouring.

Fuck, and you could lie here like this forever, just enjoying him exploring you, like he wants nothing more than to make you gush all over him and cry his name again. Normally you’d feel under pressure to perform, to give him that second orgasm he’s so determined to draw from you, but the way he’s taking his time, lazily swirling his tongue in circles, and curling his fingers into you makes you dissolve into a puddle.

“Fuuuck,” you whine helplessly, feeling the familiar sensation of you losing yourself, the heat that’s been slowly building deep in your core threatening to boil over. “Can we do this, like, the whole time you’re here protecting me?” Your eyes try to find his but he’s staring at your tits. His other hand is on your hip, fingers not quite stretching up towards you - as if unsure what the boundary is on touching you when it comes to this silly little deal you’ve made.

You pull his hand to your chest, encouraging him to squeeze you. He moans needily between wet, sloppy licks. The sound of him being so turned on just from touching your body, when you haven’t laid a hand on him yet sends ecstasy searing through you.

And it comes, whipping through your core and cracking like thunder. You squeeze your thighs around his head and he lets you set the pace, as you grind yourself wildly onto his tongue, his lips, his chin. Adrian groans in encouragement when you grip the back of his head, his fingers still pressing into your g-spot as you press yourself against his mouth.

You cum hard again, your rocking hips eventually shuddering to a halt as he gives you a few last long, slow licks. The faint prickle of embarrassment you feel from letting yourself come undone like that vanishes when you see Adrian’s face light up, his lips swollen and sticky, totally enamoured by your now slightly dishevelled appearance.

His mouth looks irresistible. You slink down off the couch to join him on the floor so you can kiss him desperately. Fuck, why did you ever listen to Taylor? You needed this. Needed him. You taste the sweet, salty juices on Adrian’s lips and on his tongue.

“I’ll admit-” you breathe, pressing your forehead against his. “- you’re like really, really fucking good at that.”

“Told you.” He leans on the couch and gets to his feet. “So, where’s your bedroom?”

“Uh, down the hall, across from the bathroom. Why?”

“Two orgasms and I can do what I want with you. Deal’s a deal.” Before your brain can catch up, he hoists you to your feet and over his shoulder, making you squeal involuntarily with delight.

Oh my fucking god.

Adrian slaps your ass and carries you through to your bedroom, tossing you onto your bed where you burst into a fit of giggles. He smells warm and clean, like your favourite shower gel he must have used earlier. He crawls on top of you and plants tiny kisses all over your lips, your cheeks, your nose- every inch of your face and neck peppered with his affection.

He pulls off his T-shirt and - Jesus Christ, he has abs. But you also notice his torso is covered in scars and bruises, the evidence of his double life painted across his body. A streak of white scar tissue here, a purple welt there-

“Don’t girls usually ask about all these injuries?” You ask, tracing your hand down his chest.

“I usually keep my suit on.” He shrugs.

And that’s when you realise- he doesn’t just happen to have sex as Vigilante. He only has sex as Vigilante. You feel a pang of understanding, thinking about the way he so wistfully described missionary earlier. You’re the only one who’s seen him like this. Both sides of him.

Adrian undoes his belt buckle and looks down at you lying spread out of the bedsheets in front of him, still flushed and glowing. He knew he’d be able to make you glow like that.

He pauses. “Do, uh, do you have a condom? I wasn’t expecting to…”

You find a condom in your bedside drawer while he undresses and then you help to put it on him as you kiss the small trail of dark hair below his belly button. He’s big- bigger than what you’re used to. You’d really, really like to suck it, you think. But Adrian has other ideas. He guides you back to lie on your pillows and climbs on top of you.

Wanton anticipation bubbles over inside you, you sigh needily as he kisses your neck and brings his calloused hand between your legs again. He slides his fingers into your folds and you hear the wet sounds of him rubbing your slick on his cock. It’s greedy but you’re already impatient for him- you want to cum for him again.

He positions himself at your entrance and looks into your eyes. “You okay?” he murmurs.

“Yes,” you breathe. “Fuck me- please.”

The way you plead makes him twitch- he can’t take it anymore. The erection he’s had since you opened that second bottle of wine is throbbing. Adrian’s hips press into you and you feel his cock pushing through your folds, into your centre. A soft whimper escapes your lips as you feel him filling you up, the walls of your pussy struggling to accommodate him.

Watching your reaction, he double checks “Sure you’re okay?”

You nod. Because it aches - but in the best kind of way.

“Good,” he says. “Because you feel so good. Your pussy feels so fucking good around me.”

You wrap your legs around his waist. Fuck, he has such a slutty little waist, you think to yourself as he grinds into you, pushing deeper, the head of his cock pressing into your g-spot. You slip your hand between your bodies to touch yourself and he moans quietly in your ear.

“Oh my god, yeah. Fuck, rub your clit because I’m not gonna last long.”

He clasps your other hand, fingers intertwining with yours- half holding it, half pinning it to the bed. Your body writhes under him, leaning your head back into your pillows and he takes the opportunity to suck at your freshly exposed neck.

“You look so good taking it so deep like this,” he groans, tilting his head down to watch his cock slide in and out of you. “I can’t believe I’m fucking inside you.”

Everything he says makes the hairs on the back of your arms stand up. You feel so, deliciously full- the indecent slapping and squelching noises as he picks up pace and pounds into you only makes you wetter.

Your legs squeeze around his waist as your whole body tightens like a spring coiling, ready to be released. The friction of his body moves yours, driving you into your mattress, and putting even more rhythmic pressure on your fingers against your clit.

“Adrian, I’m- ah, fuck- I’m gonna cum again.”

“Fuck, look at me. I want you to cum when I cum. Let it all out for me.”

You try and keep eye contact with him while bliss rockets through your body as his hips slam into you harder. It spreads from your centre right down your legs, now in a vice-like grip around him. You curse his name incoherently, your pussy tightening and releasing as you cum around his cock.

“That’s it- fuckfuckfuckfuck-” His full weight collapses on you as he empties himself. You feel Adrian’s cock pulsing inside you as he groans your name and comes to a halt.

You both lie there for a few moments, Adrian breathing raggedly into the crook of your neck, his heartbeat and yours pounding against each other. Your euphoria is interrupted only briefly when he pulls out of you and disposes of the condom.

Adrian returns to your bed and pulls you into his chest.

“I am never listening to Taylor ever again,” you say, face pressed against his pectoral muscles.

“Yeah?”

“I mean, unless…” You tilt your head up to look at him. “You still want to take me on a date right?”

“Are you crazy? Of course, I do. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Nevermind.” The dating scene in Evergreen has sucked so hard for so long, your first thought was that he might not want to see you again.

He grabs your face with both hands, trying to drum sense into you. “I’ve wanted to ask you out for months. You’re not getting rid of me.”

Adrian plants a kiss on your forehead.

Maybe there is a decent man in this town after all.

#adrian chase x reader #adrian chase #vigilante #vigilante peacemaker #vigilante x reader #adrian chase x female reader #adrian chase x you #vigilante x you #vigilante x female reader #smut #adrian chase smut #vigilante smut #fanfiction #fanfic

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actual-changeling · 5 months

Text

I have written many meta posts and s3-theories, and read even more, but I got hit by an idea I have not seen before. (If there is another post, please link it!)

After vibrating for an hour and losing my mind in my dms, I have no scraped together enough brain cells to present what is probably my first actual 'main-plot meta'.

Welcome to another edition of Alex's unhinged meta corner, today with a title to honour Crowley's James Bond obsession and the possibility of another heaven heist.

I give you:

From Jesus with Love - You Will Live Twice

Now, let's get right into it.

I think Neil might have told us more about the main s3 plotline in the announcement article than we previously thought. We all got stuck on 'they're not talking'—for good reason—but it is the part before that which has been bugging me ever since then.

The plans are going wrong—and this time that is a problem for earth and humanity. Turning that around, it means that whatever that plan consists of would be the way to go and beneficial for everyone, the opposite of the main plot of s1.

"They need to prevent the Second Coming (SC)" is pretty much the only and most popular idea I have seen, hundreds of fics and metas and whatnot have been written about it, but I think there's a good chance we're wrong. If we're not, well, I will honestly just be happy to be watching season 3.

Whatever the Metatron is planning will have negative consequences for everyone, or as Michael puts it: "And so… it ends. Everything ends. Time and the world is over, and we begin Eternity… forever and ever."

It sounds very much like Apocalypse #1 - Same Old Plan, same expected result, yet if we look at different interpretations of scripture we find that the SC is not entirely about complete destruction and death for all of humanity—it is about creating a new world/migrating to the kingdom of God.

This is taken from the Wikipedia article about the SC

Resurrection and life in a world to come are a direct contradiction to the result Michael is explaining—total annihilation of humanity.

Now, I am neither religious in any way nor have I ever received any sort of biblical education. Luckily, Christians seem to love talking about the bible because there are dozens of bible website to wade through. If I get anything wrong, please point it out, I have never touched a bible in my life.

So, after reading many, many quotes by a bunch of different guys, I tried to create a somewhat coherent picture of what the SC might look like based on the assumption that the end result is positive. I will talk about how they can be interpreted more in-depth later, otherwise this would turn into a string-net very fast.

Additionally, we can also see where these points overlap with the statement Jimbriel gave in the bookshop in episode three.

What is Jesus' job description?

only God knows when and how exactly it will begin/happen, no one else does, including Jesus and the Metatron

a lot of different catastrophes are mentioned or quoted as something Jesus said, like earthquakes and storms -> Jimbriel mentioned a tempest and great storms

there is also the line "All these are the beginning of birth pains." Birth pains dictate that there will be a birth—birth of the world to come perhaps?

dead people will be resurrected/leave their graves so that they too can be judged (I'd say participate in it but that sounds like the Second Coming is a summer camp activity)

there are also mentions of stars and the heavens in general falling from the sky and the sun going dark -> Jimbriel also mentions darkness as one of the signs

great lamentations, as Jimbriel says, are also a part of many different passages, with humans mourning the world as it was

the Lord will descent with the voice of an Archangel and the sound of a trumpet/the trumpet of God; the grammatical structure of that sentence seems to be interpreted differently depending on who you ask, but the voices of angels/an Archangel and some sort of trumpet are common terms

once everyone is in heaven/wherever the 'main even' will take place, a judgement call will be made for every single person in relation to the book of life, which decides whether they will be punished forever or not (one passage talks about a lake of fire and mentions it several times in a row)

And this is where it gets tricky. To figure out what the SC looks like, we first need to understand a) what the Metatron's capabilities are, b) what he has to lose, and c) what exactly would be a threat to him.

If you ask me, all of this comes down to the Metatron wanting to stay and be in power for eternity with full control over angels so he can do as he please, aka keeping the system running as it is.

We know the book of life (bol) is a thing in the Good Omens universe, whether it does what Michael said is an entirely different question. So far, we have also only got confirmation that hell collects and tortures souls—in such large amounts that they are understaffed—while heaven looks completely empty.

The Metatron runs heaven as an institution, he seems to be the highest power any of the angels have access to and the one they defer to. He refers to himself as the voice of God and combines judge, jury and executioner, making him one great celestial dictator.

From what we know of hell, they do things a lot more democratically, having different councils, dukes, and ranks that are responsible for different levels of command.

We also know that that the Metatron wants the world to end, his goals can probably be summarized as the statement Michael makes, which would leave him in charge without any opposing forces.

We also also know that he sees Crowley and Aziraphale as a threat—why exactly remains a mystery for now—and that the success of his plan hinges on having a Supreme Archangel (SA) he can control. Gabriel decided to become princess of hell and Beez' sugar baby, so he was out of the equation, and after the Armageddon disaster, I don't think he wants to risk failing because of an unfamiliarity with earth (plus, y'know, getting our two idiots away from the plan).

It's interesting to me that right at the end, he says to Aziraphale "We call it the Second Coming"—call, not it is or it will be, CALL. We know that nothing Neil writes is a coincidence, definitely not with such an important line.

Just because you CALL something a specific name doesn't mean it IS what you call it, e.g. Aziraphale calls Crowley a foul fiend when we know he very much isn't.

The Metatron is selling his plan as part of the "Great/Ineffable Plan", so any questions can be blocked by saying it's God's will, it's ineffable. Whatever his plan is, he hides it behind the concept of the Second Coming, which angels know just enough about to understand the basics without having in-depth knowledge of what exactly it entails.

It is a good fucking strategy, I'll give him that, and it WORKS because angels—even if they have doubts—do not question. They simply don't; fear of punishment and millennia of conditioning have left them in a horrible place. When they encounter something unknown, their response is "I already knew that" as to not ask questions.

Crowley questions, we know that, and Aziraphale, ohhhhh, Aziraphale ALSO questions, but he does it in a less dangerous and obvious way. The Metatron is vastly underprepared for that.

(Side note: That alone would be its own meta post, but the gist is that he questions heaven's plans and then adjusts his assumptions of what God might want to what he WANTS God to want, e.g. Job, the Arch)

To summarize everything I just said, the Metatron wants to do what Armageddon failed to do—destroy earth and the universe—so he can be supreme dictator of all remaining celestial beings and gorge himself on power.

But instead of calling it his Big Evil Plan, he calls it the Second Coming, making everyone play along without resistance.

We cycle aaaaall the way back to the sentence I quoted—the ACTUAL plans are going wrong since the Metatron's would mean total destruction.

But what is the SC supposed to be if not the Apocalypse 2.0?

When I look at all the different aspects of the SC and assume a positive outcome, then the end result to me would be a new world that is pretty much like the old world, or maybe even literally the old world but with any destruction reversed. Heaven and hell get dissolved since now that everyone has been "judged", they as institutions are no longer needed, they have fulfilled their purpose.

No more judgement means there is no reason to keep track anymore, so why do you need to run celestial corporations whose only job is doing exactly that? You don't—and THAT is what I believe is the biggest perceived threat to the Metatron, losing full control over everyone and everything, losing his position, his title, and whatever else he has.

On top of that, Good Omens has told us again and again that God doesn't seem to give a fuck about good and evil anymore, and that without heaven and hell being all wrapped up in it, humanity would have 100% free will without any consequences.

Maybe the BoL is empty, maybe it isn't real, maybe Jesus stole it to straighten a wobbly table, who knows. There is a chance it is what Michael says, but I would admittedly find that a bit. too obvious and boring since it would boil the plot down to "they save their own asses again" and not "they save humanity at all cost".

Regarding Crowley and Aziraphale's role in this—I have Thoughts TM but those definitely need their own post. In short, they have to get the SC back on track, the real one.

If you have made it this far, thank you for working through what I hope are more or less coherent rambles. Any spelling or grammar mistakes are my own.

Questions? Thoughts? Corrections? Expansions and additions?

Feel free to add to this post however you like (and I can't believe I have to mentions this but if you clown on my post or behave like an asshole you will be blocked).

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fun-k-board · 4 months

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Can I request headcanons for Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor react to his gn crush accidentally confessing to him?

Dammon, Rolan and Zevlor If Their Gender Neutral Crush Accidentally Confesses To Him Headcanons

Note(s) : The reader isn't Tav or durge they're just sort of a random person, I don't think the race is ever specified (correct me if I'm wrong) and neither are any described features or their class.

I'm not too knowledgeable of Dammon, Zevlor and Rolan's character in BG3 and I'm so sorry if the characters are wrong.

This is a mix of random general relationship headcanons as well as the random confession.

Dammon

He's all about outwardly caring for those he loves and he understands that love can come in many ways, he had a strong love for you before you had even confessed aloud, a mix of platonic and romantic feelings that he would showcase by doing tasks for you.

Whether he gained his crush first or you did doesn't matter in his eyes. What matters to him is that he doesn't know if you liked him back for quite a while, not until you had confessed that is. Dammon's not the type of man to make wild guesses about romance, even if you're more affectionate he doesn't think anything of it because some people are just like that with their friends and he thinks that it'd be presumptuous to assume.

He decides to eventually try and court you by making you small items or helping you as much as he could with his blacksmith job, things like necklaces, bracelets, maybe even armour, whatever you prefer, really.

Dammon isn't a fan of the typical Tiefling courting rituals, they're the same as humans but with violent and sarcastic speech, along with playful teasing and pushing their object of affection around. Of course, he won't judge if you do that to him, he can take teasing, but he much prefers to show his love through affectionate actions and words.

When you confess to him he gets more excited than embarrassed or flirty, he adores you and to know that you feel the same way as he does gets him a little giddy. He won't even realise that this could be embarrassing to you or even uncomfortable, straight away asking if you'd like to go on a date or be a couple. He does apologise after he realises how forward he's being though.

Rolan

In a relationship Dammon is very much someone who shows his love through acts of service, he'll craft things for you, help you with your job(s) and even just random tasks you might not want to or be able to do by yourself.

Sometimes he'll make random pieces of jewellery, he says that it doesn't matter if you want to wear them all the time, just as long as you like them. He accepts any gifts even if they're not something he likes, he can find a way to make it practical.

Dammon loves to tease you about your shy confession, in public and private. Unless you directly tell him you don't like it he'll randomly bring it up during conversation, when you're being cocky or teasing him it's an easy and fairly cute memory he can use to make fun of you.

Cooking is something that's interesting for the both of you, I don't think that he'd be too good at cooking or baking, not so horrible that he'll burn down a house, but not really good enough that you'd be able to have a lot of his food. Don't get him wrong, he'd love to learn, but he does prefer to have you cook while he gets ingredients and helps with any part of it that doesn't require anything that requires experience or talent in cooking.

His cuddles are very shifty, I don't think he likes to stay still for long and so you'll constantly be switching positions and he'll tend to play with your hair or hands if you let him. He might roll you around so you're laying on top of him, he's on top of you, you're sideways and hugging him, or he's hugging you, it generally just depends on how fidgety he feels on that day.

His kisses are short, he likes to give a small peck to your lips every few moments. Whether you're busy with your work or he is with his blacksmith work, then boom, kiss out of nowhere on your cheek or neck, he loves to catch you off guard and laughs whenever you get surprised by them.

Rolan personally doesn't do the typical tiefling courting strategy, of course he's sarcastic, but he's not going to be spewing out any violent speech when it's supposed to be a romantic hint to his feelings toward you.

His reaction would mostly depend on how it happened, and I can mainly see it going a few ways. Either A, you accidentally blurt it out during a conversation directly to him, or B, he overhears you talking about your love for him in some way, maybe going over a confession you're planning with a friend or you're just ranting about how much you like him.

If you blurt it out during conversation he's certainly surprised, but he is wondering if it's some sort of joke even if you're not that type of person. He will absolutely ask if Lyla or Cal put you up to this. Whereas if he overhears you he's much more likely to believe it's genuine, and he won't strut over while the other person is still there, he'll wait until you're done with the conversation and then strut over.

Whatever the way it happens, he will a hundred percent tease you about it. Nothing too heavy and it's mainly a ploy to confirm that you do in fact like him, just so he can make sure the situation is correct and he's not just assuming. He'll just outwardly say things like 'So, you have feelings for me?', 'a birdie seems to have told me about your feelings.', etc.

When you confirm you do in fact have romantic feelings for him he's over the moon, of course he won't outwardly show it and attempts to act suave, he's failing miserably and stumbles over one or two words at first, with false cocky arrogance and deepening his voice to try and make you more embarrassed than he is. Although, if you look down at his feet you can see that his tail is swishing back and forth.

In a relationship he's a mix between awkward and suave, he loves to tease you but if you tease back he gets huffy and storms off, not because he's angry, but because he's just so embarrassed. Especially if you do it around his siblings, Cal and Lia will help you make fun of him but he won't forgive you, unless you give him a kiss or gift him a new book and then it's history.

Rolan will sometimes remind you of how you so forwardly and awkwardly confessed to him to try and make you embarrassed, whether or not if you actually bite back or not doesn't matter, but he loves to do it when you flirt with him first. Oh, you think you've caught him off guard? Well, here's his ultimate trap card! Unless you're not embarrassed by it, then he's stuck trying to remember some other event that could make you embarrassed.

Zevlor

He's not too great at cooking but he can absolutely try for you, he's better at baking because of the strict step by step instructions, but for cooking where it mainly relies on taste and altering recipes he can struggle a little. Rolan does that cute thing if you like to cook or bake where he wraps his arms around you from behind and gives you a lil' kiss.

His cuddles are very 'bear hug' like, when you're spooning him he always asks you to wrap your arms around his waist and push yourself against him fully, he adores the closeness and comfort of it. When he's spooning you he does the same, arms around your waist, his face buries in your neck, making sure to position his horns away from your face. He prefers cuddling in bed and laying down rather than sitting up or on the sofa, the sofas smaller so it makes it harder to get comfortable in his opinion.

Rolan's kisses are always short and sweet, gentle and usually he'll give two or three pecks in a row because he can't get enough of you. Sometimes he'll kiss you for longer or more passionately, usually if one of you is upset or had a long day and just needs one another to relax.

So, Zevlor's not exactly the most confident or well sought after in the romance department. His age shows on his face and many people seem to be turned off by it, of course there's the whole issue with his past that many tieflings dislike him over, which they make painfully clear.

Although of course, one man's trash is another's treasure, that's where you come in. You both express interest in one another, if you don't catch on due to differences in culture, a general misunderstanding or complete obliviousness, that's up to you. But Zevlor does try to court you.

Regardless of the fact that he's single and has been for a while, he still values romance to some part. Even though it's not to the point that he actively wishes for a relationship or is miserable outside of one.

Overall, Tiefling courting rituals are similar to human courting rituals, but with a lot more grim gallows humor they use to cope with being shunned in most societies that you might not be comfortable with. In Tiefling spaces a common dark joke is 'The fastest way to a man's heart is to either make it laugh it up, or cut it out of him.' If you are a Tiefling, or perhaps from a culture or a specific race that has similar courting rituals to a Tiefling, then he will most likely just stick with what he'd normally say. Nothing too intense, but definitely things that would make a stranger unaware of these traditions to raise a brow.

If you're a non Tiefling he might try to dial back what he would typically do to court one of his own race, in his years he understands that many races or cultures will show love through kind actions, but for Tieflings, courting is all about sarcasm and being a bit more 'violent' verbally. But, if a Tiefling didn't like you then they wouldn't pick on you.

Many Tieflings in the grove are already, painfully so, aware of your little crush on the old Tiefling man. Whether it's because you've talked to them about it or because you're just so obvious, gossip can spread like a wild hellfire, everybody will know even if only one person does.

He most likely had one or two flings in his time, but to hear someone so suddenly admit that they have feelings for him is rather new, and, let me just say, I think he would have some clue before you even said it out loud. Zevlor would never outright think 'they love me', but perhaps would be under the impression that you admire him in some way, especially with how many tieflings try to hint to him that you do love him.

I don't think he would even attempt to court you if he didn't think you'd be at least a little interested.

Obviously if you're reading this you most likely want Zevlor to reciprocate your feelings and accept your confession, which he does, his confession back isn't blunt per se but he definitely gets his feelings across without mincing any words.

In a relationship he's a little awkward at first, but definitely not shy. It's mostly because it's been a while since his last lover but he also wants to make it work with you, but after a few weeks he really does begin to settle in. He'll suggest activities to strengthen your bond, like cooking meals for each other and the other tieflings, training with weapons or fighting styles either one of you might not be perfect with or against, and sometimes just taking a stroll around to admire nature.

Zevlor will adore it if you bite back with equal sarcasm, he is never outright rude, especially if he knows you can't handle it, but he does love a good playful back and forth.

I don't think Zevlor would ever tease you about your awkward and sudden confession in public, maybe with a few close friends of yours or his, but it's mainly when you two are alone and it's usually just if you tease him first. It's a fun little inside joke between you two that you can always find humor in.

Zevlor's great at cooking that can give you energy and also taste good with minimal ingredients, it's nothing spectacular that you can eat thousands of plates full of, but they're always able to give a pep in your step. He, however, isn't too good at baking, and so if you like to bake then he appreciates some lessons when either of you have the time.

I think he'd be rather awkward and stiff if you ever cuddle for the first few times, after a while he does learn what you both like and how to position himself to be comfortable for each other, but he feels very cumbersome especially if you're laying down. Zevlor prefers to cuddle on the sofa just sitting next to each other one arm around another's waist style.

His kisses are passionate and like the movies, that's the best way I can describe them. He wants you to know how much he loves kissing you and so he takes your breath away every time, if either of you are busy or in a rush he will give a small peck to your cheek as to not make you dawdle.

#bg3 dammon #bg3 rolan #bg3 zevlor #bg3 x reader #bg3 x gn reader #zevlor x gn reader #dammon x gn reader #rolan x gn reader #zevlor x reader #dammon x reader #rolan x reader #bg3 headcanons #rolan headcanons #dammon headcanons #zevlor Headcanons #Baldur's gate 3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 headcanons #baldur's gate 3 headcanons

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luci-is-a-bitch-x3x · 7 months

Text

Obey me! Brothers with Demon behaviors (part 3??) :

You can find other parts here: part one, part two, part three (u are here), Part four

━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━

Welcome! to another part of this adventure! The characters may not be how you imagine! I apologize for any poor jokes, bad spelling, and terrible grammar. Without further ado, please enjoy the content. ♡

Caution: May contain dark themes or imply towards dark themes. May contain nsfw or it may imply towards nsfw themes.

━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━

☆☆Weather Behaviors☆☆

How does hot weather affect the brothers?

Even though demons can handle weather better than humans, we're talking about a group of man demon babies. The brothers and heat do not mix well. It puts all of them in a sour mood, more fighting takes place during hot seasons, the damage HoL takes during these seasons is insane. Its an all out brawl between the brothers when its hot, the only one safe is Mc, and that's if they don't get caught in the crossfire. Mc's job of keeping the brothers in check is so much harder when its hot in the Devildom, the brothers fighting isn't just confined to HoL like it sometimes is during cold weather. Instead the brothers will fight anywhere, HoL, R.A.D, a random street corner, it doesn't matter if the heat makes them angry enough a fight is breaking out no matter the place. During hot weather the brothers may avoid each other as much as possible, even the clingest of the brothers are not touching anyone other than Mc. Bonding between the brothers during hot seasons is rare but its not impossible. If they go to the beach or get ice cream together, they may bond a little. If they can cool down enough it it will be pretty chill, they'll all actually act like they like each other until they inevitably get hot again.

The brothers may do certain things to cool down that humans can't do. For example they may extend their wings if they have them so that the wind can blow against their wings, it helps cool them down as their wings are a sensitive part of their demon forms. If the brothers have tails depending on the tail they may try and block the sun or heat with their tail, trying to create a small amount of shade for themselves. Other ways they may cool down with their tails is by licking them, the saliva wets the fur and then the wettness gets cool under a breeze. Both of these ways do not work for Levi's tail, Levi's tail is similar to a snakes or a reptiles tail in general. This means that Levi would likely put his tail in places with shade, whether that means under a tree or whether he makes the burrow himself it does matter, as long as his tail is under shade he'll be cooler than he previously was. Other methods of cooling that Mc may find that all brothers do are things like: panting, humans pant occasionally but animals pant often, some animals can't sweat so panting is the next best method. The brothers can sweat, but i feel like some brothers just prefer the panting method when it comes to cooling down. Animals like dogs sweat through glands in their feet, the brothers may have specific places that sweat more than others. Some of the brothers may sweat more than others and some may rarely sweat at all, it really just depends on their demon forms and what animals their demon forms take after. Dogs some times sweat through their noses, which is why you'll occasionally find a pup with a wet nose. Now it might seem weird for a demon to have a wet nose but I can see it happening. Every demon is made to appear different in some way, so not all demons will sweat through their nose, however some will, its an interesting experience.

Places in the Devildom that have water are packed during hot seasons, demons flock to water just like animals. Even demons that you wouldnt think would swim can be found swimming if it gets to hot out. Demons may also do something similar to hibernating, they'd most likely call it "heat naps". If you're sleeping you're not making yourself hot by exercising, so some demons sleep more during hot seasons. These heat naps usually take place under a homemade burrow, just a bunch of pillows and blankets on top of them to try and keep themselves cool. All demons shed more during hot seasons, Mc almost thought the brothers were going balled the first time they experienced it. Demons hair grows and thickens during cold seasons, and when hot seasons come their hair just starts falling out. You know how cats shed? Imagine that but 100x worse, at least some cats have short hair, imagine getting one of these hairs in your mouth. During hot seasons Mc is constantly covered in the brothers hair, give the rollers that clean hair to Mc for christmas to save them some money during hot seasons.

₊ ⊹Affection Behaviors⊹ ₊

How do they behave when being affectionate:

The brothers or just demons in general have plenty ways of showing affection that may seem "animalistic" to Mc, purely because humans dont tend to show affect these ways, it may even sometimes remind Mc of how a pet would act. Some of the acts of affection are commonly done by all the brothers, while other acts are only done by one or two brothers. The brothers have different ways they like to show affection such as; Mammon, Levi, Satan, and Belphie may show or ask for affection by nuzzling their head against Mc. I can see the others doing this at some point, but these are the ones that do it the most. Asmo or Beel may randomly lick Mc to show their affection. The others may do this but its more of teasing manner when they do it. Lucifer shows his vulnerability to Mc, now that may not seem like affection but for this prideful demon it means he trusts and cares for Mc dearly. The other brothers do show valnerability to Mc, but its just different for Lucifer.

Some of the brothers behave almost like a pet dog sometimes. If Mc goes out they may come home to find one brother or multiple brothers waiting at the door for them. I don't see Satan and Lucifer doing this to often, but they will also occasionally be waiting at the door for Mc. Mc gets followed around by the brothers often, just like a dog follows its owner around. The brother doesn't even have to be talking or intereacting with Mc, but if Mc leaves the room then they'll leave the room too. Now again Satan and Lucifer won't be as bad about it as some of the brothers may be Mammon Belphie but the two will still do it sometimes. Imagine Mc gets up and leaves the room and every single brother follows behind them like a dog on a leash. Some of the brothers may even jump in excitement when they see Mc after a long time. Personally I could only see a couple doing this like Mammon, Asmo and maybe Levi. The others may shake in excitement, i can see Levi, Belphie, and Mammon doing this. The rest of the brothers would show their excitment differently so their excitment might not be that obvious. Imagine Mc comes back to HoL after being gone for awhile just to find one of the brothers waiting for them jumping or shaking in excitement before they tackle Mc to the ground. Mammon, Beel, and sometimes Levi like to have their belly rubbed, they'll roll over like a dog and everything. Beel and Mammon like to play, like either play fighting or playing catch. Mammon, Levi, Belphie, and Beel if he doesn't think he'll crush Mc will all sit on Mc's lap no matter how short or tall Mc is. Beel, Mammon, Levi and sometimes Belphie will lay their head on Mc's knee or hand in attempts to get Mc's attention.

Some of the brothers behave more like a pet cat, for example Belphie, Satan, and Lucifer all do the slow eye blink. If Asmo, Lucifer, Satan, or Belphie exposes their belly to Mc then their showing their trust and affection. Unlike the other brothers these 4 don't really like having their belly rubbed but Mc may occasionally get away with rubbing their belly. These 4 mostly just do it to show Mc that they trust them and are comfortable being vanurable around them. All the brothers make a purring sound but Lucifer, Satan, and Levi purr the most. Mammon, Satan, and Belphie will head butt Mc affectionately. Literally anywhere, on Mc's arm, Mc's forehead where ever it doesnt matter, just as long as they get Mc's attention. I can see all the brothers giving love bites but Belphie, Satan, Mammon, and Lucifer give them the most. Now I know some people probably don't think Lucifer would bite Mc randomly, but I can see him giving them when its just him and Mc alone. Satan, Belphie, Levi, and Asmo will rub noses with Mc. The other brothers have occasionally rubbed noses with Mc but those 4 do it the most. All the brothers will nuzzle their face against Mc, it doesn't matter where they will anywhere. Belphie, Satan, Asmo and sometimes Lucifer will "paw" at Mc when they want Mc's attention. Some wont say anything they'll just keep rapidly touching Mc's hand or arm until Mc pays attention to them. You know how cats will bring you something they killed? Well I can see this happening it's probably Beel, Mammon, or Belphie that does it. Now the other brothers may bring Mc a token, but they never brought Mc anything dead. The other three just didn't understand that humans don't do that. The brothers that bring regular tokens the most are: Mammon, Satan, Lucifer, and Asmo. Mammon learned his lesson like a smart boy and hasn't brought Mc anything dead since the first time.

The brothers are really bad about stealing things that smell like Mc so they can lay on them. All the brothers have done it at least once but the ones that are the worst about it are: Mammon, Belphie, and Levi. If Mc goes away to long they'll come back to everything that smelled like them being missing. Mc will have to go door to door to collect their belongings back, and some brothers may even fight Mc over keeping the items. All of the brothers are territorial over Mc in an affectionate way of "thats my human don't mess with them". If the brothers let Mc groom them then it means they trust them, this really matters for brothers like: Asmo and Lucifer. Those two really have to trust Mc to let Mc alter or mess with their apperance, even if Mc is just trying to help and clean them up.

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Thats all for now babes! I don't know how this got to where it is but I hope you enjoyed!! ♡ This is not proofread. Feel free to comment or reblog any thoughts or any add ons you have! Betcha didn't see another one of these coming! I did a little research for this one, so hopefully its good! Anyways I have more content coming soon so Stay Tuned! Stay Safe! & Stay Cool Shawty!

━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━

⟡˙⋆Masterlist⋆˙⟡

#obey me thoughts #obey me drabble #obey me imagines #obey me headcanons #obey me demon brothers #obey me mc #obey me x reader #om mc #om lucifer #om mammon #om leviathan #om satan #om asmodeus #om beelzebub #om belphegor #omswd #obey me x mc #not proofread

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justsomegdude · 5 months

Text

Pass the time.

Leader!Negan x Alexandria!Gn!Reader

summary: Negan visits alexandria for his weekly supply and decides to flirt with y/n to pass the time.

warning: Negan is a warning in himself, sexual tension!

A/N: Who knows i might make a part two to this. i wrote all of this today because i felt bad that i hadn’t posted since last month!

The weeks seem to just play on repeat when Negan comes to visit. He pesters Rick, Gets his men to get the supplies, Sometimes dealing with conflict depending on what happens in the day. As the familiar sounds of trucks come into earshot, Alexandria’s residents went silent and most went inside houses instantly, The kids rounded up by their parents and forced inside too.

You stopped caring about hiding from Negan weeks ago now, before anytime you saw his face you would remember the ones who you lost by his hands, rather by his ‘most precious lucille’s’ hands. Now? You don’t think about what you’ve lost by him, instead about what you could still lose. You’re close to Rick and his family since you’ve been in his group for years now. So you always make sure Carl and Judith aren’t in harms way.

The gates were opened by spencer, to allow Negan and his men to step foot inside. Familiar whistle ringing through your ears, you turn away to stay on the porch of the house you were gratefully allowed to stay in. If someone needed you, they’d come to find you. You watched Negans men start spreading out into a few groups going to the only places they really take from now, The pantry being the most common. Although it is rare for them to venture into the infirmary, weaponry, or houses, they’ll do it every so often.

Your eyes connected with Negans accidentally. You groan to yourself that he was most likely watching you for a minute before you noticed. Now you wish you’d just stay inside, hoping that he wouldn’t come up. Your prayer was answered and somehow, Negan didn’t come up to you. Instead he strutted over to the pantry along with Rick close but clearly at distance. Sometime you wonder how Negan took Rick by the balls and twisted him into submission.

He used to never be anything but the leader since you met him at the farm. When he was diffusing conflict, helping hershel, beth, maggie, even me. Or how he had killed Shane the night the barn was burned down.. He was always meant to be a leader, so how Negan took control of Rick, it was scary in a way.

You didn’t even realize you started day dreaming until you heard noises, loud noises, from over at the pantry. Instantly standing up to get a good view, Negan seemed to be upset at Olivia, that poor girl. A slow pace towards the pantry to see what’s happening.

“Why can’t you do your job right?” Negans voice spoke menacingly as he leaned in, more so over, Olivia to scare her. Rick was seen near Olivia trying to get Negan to calm down. “Rick, you should really consider a new manager of the food around here, clearly she doesn’t take enough responsibility!”

Your eyebrows furrowed, quickening your pace a little so you were a few feet away from Negan, and Rick. “What’s happening?” You spoke.

Negan turned on his heels towards you. “Little miss manager-of-food, over here didn’t count her supplies correctly!” He said fast, looking back at Rick, then Olivia. “You’re lucky i’m feeling generous today, or else i’d do something physical about this.” Negan seemed more frustrated rather than angry, of course he didn’t care if there was a missing can, he just hated how often people around here wouldn’t do their jobs correctly. “I’m taking an extra can for this… waste of time.” Negan snapped and his men were instantly on it and grabbed an extra can, along with the others already taken and left in a hurry towards the trucks.

You hated this little game Negan played at, his boundaries were but also weren’t set. You wanted to speak up, tell him off, but of course you knew better.

“I’ll be taking a trip to the infirmary next week. If the person who works there, messes up, someone will die.” Negan spoke firmly and with that turned on his heels and walked towards his trucks. Your eyes connect with Ricks, and then you looked at Olivia.

Rick was the next to leave towards the gate, probably the one to close it behind the saviors today. Olivia was crying, she was so sensitive you felt bad for her. “Olivia…” You said her name quietly and went over to put your hand on her shoulder. “It’s just Negan being Negan, you don’t have to cry over it..” You put on the best reassuring voice you could. Olivia nodded and wiped her tears.

“I swear i counted correctly this time..” Olivia’s voice was cracking, and soft. She meant it, and you felt bad for her.

“Hey it’s—“ you were cutoff by someone yelling your name. “Sorry Olivia gotta check on what that’s about-“ With that you left with a quick pace towards the yell, the main gate.

“Y/N!” Yelled again, now closer you knew the root of the noise. Rick. Now jobbing over towards Rick. The gate was closed and the trucks were gone, the saviors already left. “y/n.” He spoke lowly. “We got a team heading out in a few hours for a supply run nearby, i’m going with. I need you to stay with Carl and Judith for me, okay?” Rick smiled. This wasn’t a reason to yell your name, so you softly shook your head and pinched the bridge of your nose. “I didn’t know if you were still at the pantry or not, sorry if it seemed like i was in need.”

With a sigh you looked back up at Rick. “Yeah i can watch them. Come find me next time, thought i was in trouble or someone else was.” He nodded in understanding. “I gotta get to the infirmary, check on those supplies for next week’s visit from Negan, come by when you’re leaving so i can head over.

As you sat down in your chair at the infirmary, checking over supplies. You weren’t like Olivia, you’d triple check everything even when one thing is added to the supply, you’ll check everything again. It was one of the things to cure your boredom or when, cases like this, happen. Your feet propped up on your desk while there was a box in your lap. You organize everything about twice a week now. It was just a way to pass time. Sitting at your desk for hours now, you lost track of time until there was a knock at your door, writing down the count you had, and then separating the counted vs uncounted so you could finish later.

“y/n?” Rick voice was heard as you walked towards the door. The door creaked while you opened it. “Hey! We’re getting ready to leave in a few minutes here, you got-“ You cut him off.

“Watch over Carl and Judith, yep!” You smiled, and grabbed your notebook from your desk. “I’ll head over now.” Ricks hand went to your shoulder.

“Thanks y/n, i know i can count on you.” Rick spoke, leaving shortly before you did.

Over the week, since Negans visit, you’ve checked the infirmary multiple times. You didn’t want to lose anyone. Negans patterns on showing up varied, sometimes he’ll show up days early, or days later. Shocking enough, he visited exactly a week from lasts visit. He had to mean business on what he said with the stock. Quickly making your way to the infirmary, to avoid them going through it without you.

Once inside the infirmary, and since you already checked the stock many.. many times, you sat on your desk and were just doodling in your notebook. You kept that notebook on you almost all the time, there were doodles and sayings, but you also kept things special to you written in it, people’s names, items from your childhood, it was just a reminder for yourself that there are good things to think about in this new world.

You heard a knock at the door, assuming it was Rick you just said, “Come in.”, still doodling in your book. Once the door opened the footsteps that followed were heavier than Ricks. Your eyes shot up and instantly connected with the man just a few feet from you. Negan. “oh, i thought-“ You started but it would sound dumb so you didn’t finish. Closing your notebook and setting it aside.

“You thought..?” Negans eyebrows raise as he takes a slow, dragging, walk over to you. Intimidation tactic that didn’t quite work on you.

“I thought you were Rick.” You spoke truthfully, you didn’t have a reason to lie, but you did have a reason not to tell him. He nodded and leaned against your desk.

There was an uncomfortable silence. How to stop it, not sure. You felt him staring so you looked up at him. connecting with his hazel eyes, that you damned yourself for realizing the color of. “So Ricky the Pricky got you doing infirmary work?” Negans voice filled up the silence, you couldn’t tell if silence or his voice were worse.

“I enjoy it, and am probably the only one to actually know what they’re doing.. so yeah?” You said back, finally forcing your eyes out the window instead of at him.

Your peripheral though, kept him in view. you saw his face rise up and you glanced at him. he was smirking. Knowing a stupid remark was coming. “Are you calm around me, or are you just the shy type?” That wasn’t that you expected of him.

“What?” Your eyebrows stitch together as you looked back at him, this time his eyes trained on the floor.

He clicked his tongue before talking again. “most people here, would be glaring up a storm. talking me out of being in the same room as them.“ He finally met your eyes. He was smiling, his stupid usual smile. “Hell, some would flip me the bird by now. Not you, why?” He was one for always keeping eye contact, so you did too.

You took a little longer to answer, thinking of an appropriate response. “I don’t know.” You shrugged. What were you supposed to say? The reason people cower away is because well.. they’re cowards. You’ve been put in situation and Negan, as intimidating as he is to eveyrone, doesn’t intimidate you. “Why should i be scared, when all you’re doing is sitting… well leaning, next to me.” Was all the reason you could muster up.

This made Negan let out a laugh. “Honestly i’d get upset if you were scared of me.. you’re such a pretty (girl/boy) I mean, why would i want someone like you scared of me?” He flirted, you don’t know if it was to purposely make you uncomfortable, or just him being bored, hell maybe he just wanted to flirt with you. you didn’t know. Finally breaking eye contact to look down. “Ah, did i strike a little sensitive spot? can’t handle being complimented?” Negan was talking in a way that made you feel like you were being made fun of. He was just playing his game, this wasn’t anything to do with you in specific.

Your view was set onto the floor under your feet. Not looking back up at him. You didn’t want to reply until he took a gentle grasp of your jaw and made you look at him. “Don’t get all shy now.” His voice was low and raspy, purposely sending a shiver down your spine. He kept his firm grip, and stared into your eyes.

“I..” you started quietly, you don’t know what to say. “It was just..” You paused, not knowing how to word it. “I just don’t get compliments a lot, and it’s weird coming from you..” You spoke truthfully.

He hummed quietly, nodding. Still not letting go of your jaw. He wanted you to look at him. “You’re trembling.” He smirked, you didn’t even realize but when you did your mouth opened to say something, but Negan being faster. “I bet i could get you wrapped around my finger if i tried. Compliment you more.” His smirk increased as he leaned in. it was only teasing.. he’d never actually kiss you.

“Negan..” You whispered his name. He shushed you, his hand moving from grasping your jaw into pinching your chin in between his pointer and thumb. He lifted your head up a little.

Negan moved his body to standing before you, his grip still just as firm. Subconsciously your legs separated as you leaned back just a little, a way to get further away from him. He took this as an invitation, stepping in between your legs. His hand went to the table right next to your hip, leaning over you now.

“Do i scare you y/n y/l/n?” Negan spoke. Your breathing quickened. Maybe you were uncomfortable, or maybe you somehow found this attractive. He leaned over just a little more, his thighs rubbing against yours a bit.

Negan licked his lips. “No.. of course not.” You spoke, less firm than you wanted too. “I’m just…” You actually didn’t know what to say.

Negans hand slid from the table onto your thigh. His eyes went to his own hand before back to your eyes. “so if you’re not scared.. why is your breath heavy?” He smirked, knowing how he affected you.

Your eyes went to his arm, since his hand was still on your chin you couldn’t quite look completely at where his hand laid. Negan finally let go of your chin. No response from you.

“Speak when spoken to.” He spoke, you leaned up to sit a little more comfortably, even though getting closer to Negan. His thumb rubbed your thigh, made you even more speechless.

“I’m.. awkward, under the circumstances.” you whispered, you watched his thumb rub at your thigh. “Why are you doing this..?” You tilted your head.

He leaned closer now your lips only a few inches apart. “Because you’re letting me.” His gripped your thigh now instead of rubbing it. No one’s touched you like this and you didn’t know how to react. “Can i kiss you?” His voice was quiet, his eyes weren’t looking away from your lips.

You didn’t know, you wanted it but remembering who he was your hand went to his chest and gently pushed him back. “This is a bad idea.” Negan only smirked at your response. His hand stoped holding your thigh, grabbing the bottles of medicine and stepping back.

“Well i hope to see you around y/n. Keep me and what i just did in your thoughts.” He winked, leaving the infirmary. Instant regret with how you just rejected something that you most definitely wanted. You damned yourself for being scared.

tag list :)!!

@pinchofhoney / @starstruck-loner

#jeffrey dean morgan #negan #negan smith #the walking dead negan #twd negan #jdm #jdmorgan #negan smith x reader #negan x female reader #negan x male reader #jeffreymorgan #negan x you

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