#anyway anis in her work clothes makes me feel a certain way
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this, too, is magic
#the magical revolution of the reincarnated princess and the genius young lady#tensei oujo to tensai reijou no mahou kakumei#anisphia wynn palletia#euphyllia magenta#yuri#AIKATSU#mahoukatsu?#anyway anis in her work clothes makes me feel a certain way#like euphie#myart
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how do u think some of the scream guys react to a more bimbo esque s/o….. cus i already KNOWWWW some of them *cough cough* charlie *cough cough* WOULD FW IT, LIKE IDKK AND DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON ETHAN ?? obsessed loser boy x oblivious girly bimbo ??? SOOOO 🤭🤭 and i just know they’re silly little perverts too so they would get all squirmy just from her accidentally flashing them as she bends down to pick up like a flower out of the grass or smth😭😭 IDK I JUST THINK ITS CUTEEE 🤭
(also omg idk if u do anons or anything but like …… if u do …. can i be 🩷 PLEASEEEE if not thats okay😁☝️ ANYWAYS OKAY BYEEE)
yes, i do anons !! so you certainly can <3
AND IT IS CUTE :( ethan would be STRESSED LMAOO practically glued to your side or standing behind you to make sure you don't accidentally flash anyone. he would also be one of the first to volunteer to fix the straps on your sandals or tie your sneakers for the same reason. he also takes advantage of any opportunity to tutor you, even if most of your sessions end up with you in his lap with your lips on his. he's such a sucker for you, too, so weak to the way you whine his name or gaze up at him, all sweet and adoring, and ask him for a kiss. he could be holding a cardboard box he can barely see over, and he'll still be awkwardly angling his body and bending forward to give you a quick peck on the lips.
charlie would be so fond of just observing you, whether it's admiring your side profile while you touch up your makeup or watching how your animated expressions reflect your thoughts as you try to work through homework on your own. plus, he knows that half the time, you have zero clue what he's talking about when he rambles on about the specifics of media, but he adores the effort you put into trying to understand. and even if you've given up on trying, you still sit there with a smile and give him your full attention, bc you just like hearing him talk.
both of them would be obsessed with the way you have no concept of personal space when it comes to them, your brain consisting of nothing but tv static as you get right in their face or press up close to them. you're shameless with your affection, and you never think twice about how out-of-place they appear at your side.
mickey and billy would adore how easy you are to mold into their perfect, unwitting accomplice, taking all of their explanations in stride and rarely ever questioning them. there's a certain freedom that your presence allows, since they know that you don't even blink or think twice about the thin layers of blood embedded beneath their fingernails or that strange scent that clings to their clothes when they kiss or hold you. oh, they accidentally cut themselves? oh, that smell is just the gasoline from their car? okay. after all, all you need is to trust them and let them do the thinking. all you have to do is sit on their laps and look pretty for them.
mentions of smut under the cut ; minors dni
all of the sex jokes when they're around end up flying right over your head. you're so naive, so sweet, so easy to manipulate until you're bouncing on their cock and creaming a pretty, white ring at the base because it's "the best way to get rid of your stomachache." they stick out like a sore thumb against the decor of your room, but sometimes, when you've got their head resting on your chest with your fingers combing idly through their hair, or when they're sprawled on your bed lying about not peeking through their fingers while you lotion up your bare body and reflexively reach for the shirt they lent you three weeks ago, they feel as though they fit right in.
#billy loomis smut#billy loomis x reader#charlie walker x you#ethan landry x you#ethan landry x reader#ethan landry x y/n#billy loomis x y/n#charlie walker x reader#charlie walker x y/n#mickey altieri x reader
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Bi Han x Bimbo Reader
"I need to die looking good."
This is for chickensandwich69
Warning: Bi Han is sexist (and a bit of a d*ck), and mild sexual flirting but nothing explicit.
She has priorities.
She wasn't fighting for Earthrealm, nor did she have any interest in fighting for Shao Kahn. She was in it for herself, blindsided and forced to compete, but making the most of what she could enjoy out of it.
And that was something Bi Han could respect, even though her motivations weren't. Spending time with friends, shopping, getting her hair and makeup done, and scoring herself a romantic companion.
The She/Her in question is you. You were a ballerina, a gymnast, a cheerleader, pageant Queen. It was clear competition is in your blood, so the tournament was a walk in the park for you. The fighting part, anyway. Seeing you freak out over blood was another matter.
"Do you want me to massage your hair?" you asked him, a cheeky smile on your face. He nodded, and you did as you offered.
Seeing Bi Han's face was a luxury, and you would do anything to see it as long as you could, even though you didn't mind him with his mask. You liked being the one that gets pampered, but you would make an exception for Bi Han.
He questions how it came to this, all the time.
Maybe it's your Chaosrealm blood. Nothing made sense around you but it came naturally. It happened out of nowhere. First, you're watching him train with Cyrax. Second, you're following him and yapping your mouth off. Third, he ends up doing something very intimate with you and he's wearing less clothes. And it involves his mouth and lower region.
Your relationship wasn't much of a secret, considering you were seen hugging his arm if you were both in the same room or area, but not enough lived to know it as fact. With the tournament and all. Or just in general. Bi Han saw competition in their gazes, which meant jealousy. Which meant lots of ice and blood during fights. Thankfully you were too dumb to figure it out, because blood upset you a lot, and you had only started making an exception for the tournament.
"What else would you like me to do?" you were sitting on his lap now, something in your eyes. Pretty obvious what you were feeling.
Oh yeah, that's why. There was no way he would resist this.
Bi Han may be a Lin Kuei assassin, and one that takes his profession very seriously, but he could enjoy a good lady himself. You had just broken up with your boyfriend so it felt like a fitting decision to take your attention while it was still available to him. So long as you were his no one else could have it.
Companions were not common within the clan, and you were an excellent fighter. Sure, there were the cultural differences and the clash of personalities, but if the Lin Kuei were to ever find out it would be unbelievable, so it was a right decision.
You desired him and he desired you, it worked both ways. Both of you were being selfish, he was certain, but you initiated so he had no reason to care about your feelings.
[Noob Saibot]
He grew more possessive of you, and that possession followed him when he died. Before he would freeze any man that flirted with you, these days he killed them. You were distraught when Bi Han died, but you weren't sure what to make of his new self. It was still Bi Han, but he was Goth now and you've never been with a Goth before. You were determined to try something new, however, so you kept going on with the relationship.
You didn't understand his new found problems with his brother or where his bizarre mindset came from, but your main concern was matching with your boyfriend, so you had a bunch of black designer dresses lined up in your wardrobe.
"I guess Goth isn't a phase." you said to yourself. Then again, your parents thought you were a phase.
Bi Han gently brushed your hair out of your face and kissed your cheek, even though his skin wasn't as soft as it originally was, which meant his lips were almost shrivelled into his skull. It would only be fair if you were dead as well, that way he wouldn't feel left out from lack of lips.
"Where is your fear?"
"I think I left it in my purse."
"We will find it."
You had only started getting used to his new odd way of showing his affection, but it still made your insides all fluttery. You kissed him sweetly. Your lip gloss stained on his 'lips', and Bi Han didn't show any irritation, but there was the pride she recognised. It wasn't often he gave an expression since his change.
#bimbo reader#mortal kombat headcanons#bi han#sub zero#noob saibot#mortal kombat#joe taslim#bi han x bimbo reader#mortal kombat x bimbo reader#noob saibot x reader#yandere bi han#yandere noob saibot
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a/n : tw reader has family issues, slight gore
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[ g. kaldo x fem reader ]
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you slam the telephone down in your office. kaldo slightly jolts from the sudden noise as he placed the daily newspaper he was reading back on the small table next to the couch. taking one quick sip of his honeyed coffee before making his remark.
" what's got you so worked up in the morning? "
" morning? it's already noon! " you scold as you turn to face him, the tears on your eyes barely noticeable.
" they should call you the angry cane, " he jokes as you slump back down on your chair.
" what are you even doing in my office? "
" just chilling, I'm free. there's really nothing for me to do here, I could go home if I wanted to but I'd feel bad for the rest working their asses off. anyways enough about me but let me guess who was on the phone! your sister right? " he had a hand on his chin before snapping his fingers together.
" yeah... "
work was your escape from the family house you grew up in. magic was everything in this world. if your magic was stronger everyone would possibly respect you right? or so you thought. growing up as the big sister and middle child of five siblings. you're bound to be compared to your older brothers. it was unfair if only your parents didn't value one gender over the other. your brothers weren't as great as you. your first brother works in the bureau of magic but you're a divine visionary, also part of the bureau of magic so why? why does your parents still expect more from you? his wife recently gave birth to his second child. your second brother, step brother, is peacefully living his life as a successful bakery owner. both your younger siblings were in high school, both in their first year, one's your biological sister and the other is your half sister or not half but step sister. you're barely 23 and yet everything feels so far apart.
" so incompetent. " you mumbled as kaldo tilts his head.
" why? " you can't help but whisper as tears starts to prick your eyes. kaldo stays silent.
" I'm a divine visionary yet what more can she expect from me? I've done everything I can to be the best... I've even slayed that one dragon beast, earning a title... I've saved countless of people. so why? " you can't help but bawl your eyes out. kaldo gets up from the couch as he approaches you, rubbing slow circles on your back.
" you're more than the best, they don't say it but if they're not proud of you then I am. nothing can change that. I think you're incredible. " he says, calming you down.
you left the house and had been living by yourself ever since high school up till now. you don't have a reason for being in a place that haunts you for not being better than your older brothers. your sister called you earlier, inviting you to the family's dinner party tonight.
" kaldo... come with me to my family's dinner tonight, " you look up at him.
" your step mother will be there? " hearing those words, you can't help but glare at him. your real mother had been dead since your sister was born. that step mother of yours, doesn't even look one bit like you! isn't it obvious she's not your real mother. kaldo did visit your family house once, all the portraits of your real mother were replaced by her face. there's barely any family photos hung on the walls either.
" yeah. " you spat as he smiles.
" am I coming as your co-worker, best friend or potential lover maybe husband even? " you blush at his words.
" c-c-co-worker! "
after work, you and kaldo made your way to the family house. not bothering to change out of your work clothes. nervousness didn't bother to eat you. you felt oddly confident, having kaldo with you. if there's bloodshed today, you're certain it'll be your victory. kaldo feels happy he's going in the house again. he talked to the others about visiting the grand family house and no one was surprised he finally managed to visit it. everyone having gone in once as well but this second visit will make him special! if only he knew the madl family was a close partner to your family's. that means orter and his brother used to come over frequently to play. he didn't know that, of course.
" welcome home. " the house butler greets you, surprised to see you bringing a plus one, a male too.
" good to see you Mr butler, " he smiles at the nickname you've given him, barely remembering the last he heard you calling him that. he takes your coat and kaldo's as he hung it on the rack, near the entrance doors. before walking you to the dinning table.
everyone was quiet for a moment, taking in your appearance and the man next to you. your father sat at the end of the table, your step mother next to him and your first brother on his other side. everyone has taken their seats and the vacant ones were the one directly facing your father, the seat next to it or the two seats next to your step mother.
kaldo pats your shoulder. you take this as a sign to sit. you took the seat directly infront of your father as kaldo sits next to you, next to him was your sister.
everyone starts to eat, the table was quiet. you were surprised how kaldo didn't say anything. the food was a distraction, how you miss the cooking of the house. truth be told, the only good parts to living here was the workers who serve the family. your father clears his throat as the attention shifted to him.
" when are you, y/n going to get married? " he questions as everyone turns to look at you. you drop your fork on the plate as a surprise to the question.
" isnt it obvious, she's dating the guy next to her? " your step brother jokes as you cast a spell controlling his shadow to slightly tug at his leg, making him hit the table. all the plates, glasses and bowls clanks to the movement.
" orter madl would've been the best one for her to marry, " your first brother chimes in. his wife next to him, nods.
" big brother i want to marry him, don't say that! " your step sister says as she slams her hand on the table.
" ew, I doubt he'll even bat an eye at you. remember when he came over to watch the divine visionary candidate test, he said you were incompetent and far from his type. don't try your luck, " you can't help but laugh at what your sister said. everyone turning back to you.
" sorry, but orter would rather stab himself than be with you. " you wipe the tears from your eyes as kaldo smiles.
" anyways, I can't see myself with orter. we're best friends and I wouldn't want to be in an arranged marriage with someone who didn't get the freedom to pick who they'll marry. especially one just to tie the family together. " you finish the sentence as you look directly at your father.
" well we didn't say you'll be in one, marrying the orter madl gives you some sort of high title. you should take it, " your step mother says.
" I'll be fine. besides kaldo here, will be my life long partner. " hearing you say that, got kaldo grinning from ear to ear.
" that man, doesn't look like kaldo gehenna. " your step brother says matter of fact. " maybe you've casted a spell to make some other guy look like him and then brought the man over. "
" that's a pity, if it's true! Hahaha, " your step sister laughs.
" be quiet, is it true? you, kaldo gehenna will marry y/n? " your father says, turning to look at the man.
his eyes open, smiling at him as he says, " yes, and insulting me won't go unnoticed. you shall receive punishment for that. I could get you expelled from easton academy and I can burn down your precious bakery. "
" don't do that, say something! y/n! " your step mother shouts as she slams her hands on the table, dropping down a glass next to the floor.
" shut up, this is beyond my control and why should I control the actions of my beloved? " you question as this bubbles up her anger. she summon her wand, casting a spell to pick up a broken glass to throw it as you. it cut your cheek, you felt the blood run down. you stand up from your seat.
out of anger, you threw the glass next to you at your father. aiming for the wall behind him, he was unfazed. everyone looked at you. have you gone crazy? that's the man who created you with your late mother. the man who spends money on you, lets you live in his house.
" y/n, sit. " your father ordered as you stand, not moving an inch.
" no, thanks for dinner. I'm sorry dear sister. I can't stay for long and if I could, I would have done so long ago. you know I'm strong. I've defeated countless of monsters, that doesn't change the fact I can take the life of humans too. " your step family, shudders at the thought. a cold blooded bloodbath with them? maybe together with your father and big brother too. you turn your back against them. kaldo stands and places a hand over your back.
" she'll be in good hands, family in law. "
" who said anything about letting you into this family? your father work hard raising you and all you do is act like a brat. you're all bark and no bites! if only you were like your big brother. " your step mother shouts as she stands from her seat.
" bark and no bites? " a shadow came over her neck, holding her up slightly away from the ground.
"h-h-help me dear, " she calls for your father as she tries to grab his shoulder.
" drop it, y/n. " your father says.
" yeah, stop it, " your big brother speaks.
the shadow disappeared, dropping her to the ground. she wraps one hand over the place where the shadow was at, little did she realise there was a burnt imprinted left.
" are you sure, you still want to marry that mad witch? she nearly took her mother's life! " your step brother says, as both the step siblings rushed to their mother's side.
" she's not my mother. " you mumbled out loud.
" I don't care, what she does. even if her hands are bloodied. even if she'll kill me. she's mine and I'll still love her. " kaldo takes your hand to plant a kiss, turning over to look at them all.
" let's go, " you say to kaldo as you both took your leave.
walking around the now empty streets, it was already late into the night. you didn't feel one bit of guilt, the glass cut healed immediately after you left. you held kaldos hand eversince you left the house. he didn't want to let go and wished you didn't pull away. now, standing on a bridge. the soft water noises, wind blowing, prettily lit starry sky. you can't help but be drawn to those.
" sorry, " you apologise as kaldo stands closer to you, shoulder to shoulder touching.
" that was a hell of a dinner huh? " you start, sighing. if your real mother was still around. she'll definitely embrace you like she always did.
" don't be sorry, I'd kill too if I had to keep up with all of that till I'm finally free from those horrors. she hates you because you look so much like your mother, " he places his other hand to your cheek. stroking it slow and tenderly.
" no I mean, sorry for making it seem like we'll marry. unless you really want to, " you placed both hands over your mouth.
" HUH!? so you don't intend to be my lifelong partner? were you going to marry orter and prove them right? " he babbles as you laugh, putting your hands by your side.
" I really love you, kaldo gehenna. " you confessed, his eyes shot open and his eyes met yours, so full of love and adoration.
you lean close, nose brushing against his as you shut your eyes and give him a kiss to his lips. you feel his arms snake around your waist, pulling you closer.
pulling apart, to catch your breath. you don't fail to notice his silghtly red face and the soft smile that doesn't seem to go away.
" I promise to be your sword and shield. I vow to be yours. I love you so much, " he takes your hand to his lips, placing a kiss as he drags you along.
" say, if we're together. can we skip the dating parts and just get married? " he says as you can see your house draw closer.
" yeah let's just get married, we've already known each other quite long too. "
" great, the wedding will be next week then! " he cheers as you unlock the doors of your house. you gave him a soft smile as you gave him one last kiss to the cheek before bidding him goodbye and a get home safely.
kaldo couldn't sleep that night, he was over the moon. the girl of his dreams finally said yes to him and had felt the same way as he. he couldn't help but call ryoh that night, gossiping the night away. ryoh too, was so happy for the man but gods he wished he'd shut up. he was tired from work and was looking forward to cuddling the night away with his wife.
" please free me. I have a wife to attend to, " ryoh mumbles out loud, catching the flame cane off guard.
" my, its so late well see you tomorrow and thank you for lending me a listening ear, goodnight ryoh. " he hangs up momentarily, forcing himself to sleep.
the next day as he walked to your office, he heard yours and orter's voices. he decides to wait by the door as he eavesdrop on the conversation.
" after the dinner, your sister called me. she said it was a disaster and they were expecting you'd marry me but you chose kaldo? " orter was leaning on the door, arms crossed after the other as you sat by your desk.
" you wouldn't want to marry me either. besides I just can't imagine you as the father of my children. I want a guy who knows how to wow his kids! " you laugh at the idea of kaldo being the fun parent.
" i see, you're all grown up now. well if there's anything I can help you with, let me know. I might even babysit them once or twice. " he offers, pushing his glasses up his face, not failing to notice the smile on your face.
" what a great best friend you are! do you want a hug? " you beamed as orter pushes himself off the wall. remembering the last time you gave him a hug, it was bone crushing. you managed to manipulate and manifest his shadow into 3d! making that give him a hug.
" no, " he opens the door as kaldo pretends he's just got there.
" get back to work, don't just flirt with her all day. " orter scolds as kaldo sighs, handling him the coffee he prepared for you. he'll just come back with a better and sweeter batch for you he thinks as he walks away dreadfully. he hears you laugh as he walks away, making a smile crawl up his face.
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How about digital circus x princess! Reader with their very own castle. Elegantly leaning out of their tower singing lullabies for anyone to hear. Ps Keep up the great work 👍
TADC cast x princess!reader
I know I usually stress that I answer stuff chronologically but I misread this as just jax (I'm sleepy!!) So I went to search for a princess reader post i did weeks ago, snagged the link then reread the request and saw it was the whole cast... but I've already committed to the bit by searching for the link sooooooooo
CAINE:
You and I both know hes goinv to use the fact ypure a princess for IHA... captured princess trope stuff, basically! So have fun with that! Absolutely loves your singing, so so much. Probably joins in with you, complimenting your part..or perhaps he hums.. other princesses have cute fairytale animals accompanying them, and you have..... bubble..... huh....
Really ups the whole... act when talking to you.. bows deeply, waves his arm around in a grand fashion when showing you to a room, ect ect ect
POMNI:
Has probably subconsciously/accidentally said you were pretty outloud. Gets absolutely lost in the sauce when you sing. Like just stands there, hands awkwardly clasped together in front of her as she listens. Probably sways side to side too. Gets very pink when talking to you, her face does the O^O thing... absolutely smitten
RAGATHA:
Ah my favorite, royal princess x common lady... well, at least aesthetically... whether or not you're royalty in the real world is debatable... anyways, that aside, I think this is probably one of my favorite ship dynamics... I love.. similar to pomni she is very bad at hiding her feelings around you. Tends to stare with a blushing face. Loves making you dresses; assuming you can swap out dresses considering the whole "their clothes are attatched to their bodies" thing
While I doubt your clothing can rip or tear thanks to the properties of the digital world, I think if she could, she would patch up any holes
KINGER:
Honestly I think out of this entire post, kinger is the only one who gets a platonic/found family take on this... just an old king and his princess kid. Again I'm not sure if he truly believes he royalty or if he was trying to appeal to the gloink queen by saying "as a royal myself.." but.. honestly I like the idea that he just likes playing the part. Like he knows hes not royalty but. You know? Let this man embellish himself
Pillow fort? No, pillow TOWER! No... pillow CASTLE! Pillow kingdom!!!
Nothing too hyped specific here he's just your dad here
ZOOBLE:
Oh? Cool. I mean your singing isnt really their cup of tea, they look like they're into alt/indie stuff tbh...maybe rock. Confession I'm terrible at identifying genres so I'm literally speaking out of my ass rn on what type of music zooble would listen to I'd have to list specific artists and songs
But this isnt about that
Depends on what kind of princess you are
If you're independent, resourceful, and badass I think you guys could build some chemistry
If you're like, damsel in distress, ,kind of stuck up, whiny, prissy, ect then it's a hard no
Not many ideas here tbh <\3
GANGLE:
Also thinks you're very pretty! Also loves your singing! I think she grew up on disney films, and even if she doesnt remember them it's still a core memory that like. is kind of instinctive atp. So she finds comfort around you, you know? LOVE that trope btw, where a character doesnt remember something but still finds comfort in it while not fully understanding why because as far as they know this is the first time with the thing
Absolutely melts if you compliment her. Sure, she would still melt if you weren't a princess.. but having someone so pretty and graceful saying it hits a certain way for her
JAX:
#tadc x reader#the amazing digital circus x reader#digital circus x reader#caine x reader#pomni x reader#ragatha x reader#jax x reader#kinger x reader#zooble x reader#gangle x reader
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I’ve always hated that nickname
rookie!Leon x f!Reader
Summary: Y/N is having a tragic time with her dating life at the moment, and isn’t afraid to share the fact with the whole office. They are blissfully unaware of a certain rookie that’s completely infatuated with them.
Word count: 2.8k
Part 1 of 2
Part 2 here
Notes: Had to split this into two parts because it’s turning out to be nearly 8k words 😭had to write for some baby Leon. Also, no idea why Chris is in charge in this but I started writing it that way and it sort of fit…? So…? Idk what he’s doing. Anyways, enjoy.
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“Hey, Rookie. You got any cute friends you could set me up with?”
Leon was jolted out of his tranced state, staring blankly at some files he’d meant to have finished sorting 20 minutes ago until the room came quickly into focus and then, you.
You were standing in front of him, whilst he sat at his desk; that beaming smile on your face, the one that made his stomach do flips and his palms go sweaty. Your glossy hair sat perfectly on your shoulders, and you had some more files tucked under your arm for him, your weight resting only on one foot accentuating your figure.
Leon cleared his throat quickly, already feeling his cheeks turning bright red as he tried his best to make eye contact with you.
“Sorry?” He questioned, mildly oblivious but also hoping he hadn’t heard what he thought he heard. Leon had been blissfully unaware of the conversation you and your colleague had just been having about your tragic dating life.
You rolled your eyes playfully at Leon.
“Friends Leon, you got any?”
“Er- some yeah. Why?” Leon stuttered.
“Are they cute? Dating material?” You pressed, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from how you were fiddling with the top button of your blouse absentmindedly. Leon opened his mouth and closed it again, the words getting caught in his throat.
“Y/N, leave the new guy be. Poor guy is up to his eyeballs in paperwork.” Chris Redfield rounded the corner of the office, a pile of papers in his own hand and he eyed you playfully as he tossed the pile on his desk.
“It’s what he signed up for isn’t it?” You quipped back, the smile never leaving your face as you dumped the pile of paper on Leon’s desk.
“Sorry, Rookie. Boss’s orders.” You said quietly, before walking back to your own desk and resuming your earlier conversation in more hushed tones.
Leon’s ears pricked up this time, his mind far from interested in the mountain of paperwork in front of him.
“They’re just assholes, you know? Like, I get dressed up, wear a cute dress, do my makeup and he shows up in his work clothes. Barely spoke to me half the night.” You murmured to a brunette woman with cropped hair, Jill Valentine.
“What? Fuck that. Y/N, you should’ve pretended to go to the bathroom and left.” She whispered back, they were keeping their voices down this time due to Chris’s presence. Leon cursed at himself for not paying attention before.
“You’re right, I definitely should’ve. I’m just too nice. I just want a nice, decent guy, is that too much to ask for these days?” You sighed, and Leon saw how you slumped down in your chair and looked genuinely defeated. A fire stirred up in his stomach as he processed what he’d just heard. Imagine, someone treating you like that on a date. The thought filled him with an unrequited rage. What he wouldn’t give to take you out, wine and dine you and treat you like he worshiped the ground you walked on. I mean, to be fair, he did.
Leon had been infatuated with you since his first day working at the station. He’d been introduced to everyone in the office but hadn’t listened to anyone’s names, except yours. His eyes were on you as soon as he’d set foot through the door, he just couldn’t help it. He thought you were the prettiest thing he had ever laid eyes on. The first time you spoke to Leon after you were introduced formally, he damn near had a heart attack. You’d both been in the kitchen on your break and Leon was none the wiser of your presence. He’d ended up bumping into you, spilling coffee all down his shirt and yours. The embarrassment had been too much for him to bare, and as much as he’d tried to play it cool, he felt as if he ended up a babbling mess of apologies instead. Plus to make things worse, he could not take his eyes off the way your coffee stained blouse clung to your chest, and this made him feel all the more guilty. To you, this had just been an innocent mistake, and you didn’t think any more of it. You’d stressed to him to not worry about it and that these things happen, plus it brought the perfect opportunity to gently tease the new cute guy. Leon however had been positively mortified. He avoided you for the next few days after that, but he couldn’t stay away for long.
You needed something copying? Leon was on it. You needed a report writing up? Leon had it on your desk. You were hungry and didn’t feel like going across the street for food? Leon was bringing it to your desk. This man waited on you hand and foot and you were completely oblivious to how he felt. Under most circumstances, Leon would’ve gotten teased relentlessly for his doting nature when it came to you. However, he cleverly masked his behavior by doing the odd favour for others around the office too. So, no one not paying really close attention batted an eyelid when he brought coffee to your desk, or handed you a 12 page report you should've filed 2 days ago. Some did pick up on it of course, Chris being one of them. He never missed a trick. He’d warned Leon about getting involved with work colleagues (rich coming from the man that goggled at Jill like he was getting paid to), and Leon took this on board whilst denying all knowledge of what Chris was implying. Leon wasn’t sure if Chris was serious about his warning, or he was just trying to pull rank seeing as how the elusive Captain Wesker Leon had yet to meet, had put him in “charge”. Leon wasn’t about to jeopardise his new career. But then again, it was you. And he couldn’t get you off his mind.
Leon went to bed that night mulling over the conversation he’d overheard between you and Jill. If only he could work up the guts to ask you out. He fought with himself for a while, wanting to be bold and just do it but also afraid of rejection and the potential complication of Chris being disapproving. It was safe to say he didn’t sleep much that evening.
-
“Oops! Sorry!” You gasped as you bumped into Leon yet again, this time it was by the copier. The force of you falling into him caused him to stumble backwards ever so slightly and the papers he was holding slipped to the floor.
“Oh! God I’m sorry!” You say as you whip around to see who you’d knocked. You immediately knelt down, helping him pick up his papers much to his protest.
“Y/N, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” Leon brushed you off with the polite smile he usually sported when around you.
“Nonsense, you helped me clean up after you split that coffee all over me, remember?” You winked, and you saw his face flush a tinge of pink at your comment.
“I’m just messing with you Rookie. We’re even now though, right?” You asked, as you steadied yourself to your feet and handed him the last flyaway document.
“Sure. Even.” Leon nodded and smiled gently, you got the impression he wanted to say more to you, almost as if he was inhaling to speak but never quite exhaling. There was pause, and you awaited him to open his mouth to speak until-
“Hey! Y/N, can I borrow you for a sec? I just need you to check this for me.” Another colleague pulled you away to their desk, and you gave Leon a small smile as you departed. It was a smile he’d think about for the rest of the day.
-
The rest of the week went by as normal, as uneventful as most weeks had been. In terms of work, Leon was slowly spending less time behind his desk. A pro and a con in his book. More time away from the desk meant his days were usually more interesting, being on patrol and on the streets was the type of experience he needed in this line of work. However, less time behind his desk meant less time seeing you.
He was lucky though, seeing as you were barely at your desk the rest of the week either, instead being deployed out on an assignment regarding a domestic terror incident in the city.
So, when the following Monday rolled around and Leon was back to his usual desk duties, he was minutely (majorly) disappointed to find that you weren’t there. All morning his eyes subconsciously darted over to your desk, or towards the door in hopes you’d just magically materialise in front of him. No such luck. It was strange, but Leon tried not to dwell on it. You might just have the day off, although it was very rare for paid leave to be approved without advance notice. Leon considered this, and it just made the wonder prickle for longer in his mind.
Mid afternoon rolled around and still, no sign of you, and Leon couldn’t ignore the lingering feeling in his pit like stomach any longer. He hoisted himself away from his desk, happy for the excuse to stretch his legs and headed over to where you normally sat, glancing over your empty chair before he approached Jill, who usually sat next to you.
“Hey,” Leon cleared his throat nervously, suddenly very aware that he had no actual reason to be coming over to your desk. He could feel Chris eyeing him carefully from across the office and his throat suddenly felt dry.
“What’s up, Leon?” The brunette woman asked, her voice warm but not looking away from her computer screen as she worked away.
“I have erm- a report that Y/N wanted ready. Do you know where she is?” Leon stammered, thinking of something on the spot and screaming internally for not coming up with a better excuse before moving from his own desk.
“Oh? What report? Do you want me to take a look at it?”
“No! No, I mean, that’s okay. Thanks. I’ll just give it to her when she comes back, do you know when that will be?” Leon managed to speak.
“Sorry. She’s called in sick today. If you want you can leave it with me and I can take a look-”
“No, no. Honestly it’s fine. Thanks, Jill.” Leon said quickly, retreating back to his desk before being asked to produce a report that didn’t exist.
Off sick? You were never off sick. You had the best attendance out of the whole S.T.A.R.S team.
The rest of the afternoon dragged dramatically, as Leon tried desperately to focus on actual work, a task he was finding exponentially impossible as he kept glancing over to your vacant desk out of pure habit.
-
Leon panted as he landed one final blow into the punching bag, allowing his muscles to relax as he ran a hand through his damp hair. He blew out a sharp breath, straightening himself as he went to grab a towel to mop up the sweat that had collected on his brow.
“You done in here, Rookie?”
The familiar voice made him spin around, to find you standing there in the doorway of the training area. A face he hadn’t seen in almost two weeks now.
“Y/N, hey, how’re you doing? I heard you were sick.” Leon asked, simultaneously overjoyed at the sight of you but also reeling from adrenaline. He scanned over your features for a moment, and he couldn’t help but notice how your beautiful face looked worn. Your once bright skin now looked dull and pale, the purple circles under your eyes indicating your complete exhaustion. Leon’s brow knitted together in a look of concern.
“I’m good thanks Leon. Just a rough couple a’days is all. Back to it now though.” You murmured, energy lacking from your voice in a way that just didn’t suit you. Leon’s gaze followed you for a moment, as you passed him heading for the punching bag yourself before bending forward and throwing your hair up into a loose ponytail. Your eyes glanced over him as you were tying your hair back. Leon would hate to admit it, but your stare made him nervous.
“Have you got anywhere to be right now, Leon?” You asked, slumping your arms down to your side before resting them on your hips. Leon’s heart leapt a little at hearing his name uttered from your lips. You rarely used his name, calling him ‘Rookie’ out of habit.
“Oh, um-no why?” Leon replied.
“Would you mind helping me train for a few? I could really use someone to practise sparring with if you’re up to it.”
“Oh, yeah of course I can help with that.” Leon said, eagerly. His eyes lighting up at the opportunity to spend more time with you.
“Great, thanks.” You smiled but it didn’t quite reach your eyes, this didn’t go unnoticed. Leon didn’t want to pry. It was obvious something had happened or maybe you were just simply feeling unwell, whatever it was he was determined to make you laugh at least once whilst he had you in his company.
“You want me to get the boxing pads? Or straight to sparring?” Leon asked.
“Let’s go for the pads first, good call.” You agreed, as Leon grabbed a pair of boxing mitts and put them on.
He held his hands up in a defensive stance whilst you readied yourself to start. You steadied your feet and threw a hard punch across to your left, hitting Leon’s mitted hand hard. He faltered.
“Plant your feet.” You instructed and Leon huffed.
“You didn’t give me a chance to get ready.” He muttered, a smile faltering on the edge of his lips and he adjusted his frame.
“Always gotta be on your A game.” You threw him a right hook, and this time he didn’t move an inch. It was almost like you’d punched hard into a solid wall and it almost caused you to stumble backwards instead. You couldn't help your eyebrows raise in surprise.
The smile that threatened his lips got the better of him this time, his face morphing into a full blown grin as he took in your surprise.
“You have been training, huh?” You commented, your eyes still slightly wide.
“Not much else to do than train at the moment, other than a shit ton of paperwork.” Leon shrugged, and suddenly you were very aware of how his navy shirt clung to his muscles and form. You were staring, and you could feel yourself blushing as you pulled your eyes away.
“Yeah, I mean, that’s a good thing.” You managed to reply absentmindedly.
“Y/N? You okay?” Leon asked.
“Yeah- yeah. Sorry. Let’s keep going.”
“You sure you’re up to this? You’ve been off sick, you can give yourself a break.”
“Yes, Leon. Come on.” You cleared your throat and tried to recollect yourself, aware that your complexion was now flaming.
“You look like you’re burning up.” Leon protested once again, and was starting towards you and going to pull a mitt off but you backed up.
“Don’t make me pull rank on you Rookie.” You said, firmly but your tone wasn’t thoroughly serious.
Leon huffed and nodded, backing away and returning to his former stance without further comment. You didn’t say anything more, just began throwing punches into the mitts and trying to keep up with Leon darting his hands around acting as a moving target.
“Not making life easy for me are you?” You panted, reaching up to hit his right hand in one solid hit.
“Gotta keep you on your toes, boss.”
Leon smirked, and you matched his smile, hitting him once again and he was overjoyed that you were smiling again. Genuinely smiling. It made his chest swell. Leon was solid as you were throwing punches his way, unable to move him despite your valiant attempts. It did mean you were able to train properly, it was refreshing.
The two of you trained for a good half hour, deciding not to spar after you were completely shattered.
“Thanks for that, Rookie.” You panted as you rested your palms on your knees, attempting to recover your breath.
“Anytime, boss.” Leon gave you a quick salute which made you chuckle and shake your head.
“I’m definitely not your boss.” You protested, even though technically you were higher rank than him, in your book that didn’t class you as his ‘boss’.
“Whatever you say, boss.” Leon quipped back, pulling the boxing mitts off and smiling. You rolled your eyes, not pressing the matter further as you were exhausted.
“So, you feeling any better?” Leon asked after a moment of silence, as he packed away the kit he’d been using previously.
“Yeah, yeah I am. Thanks.” You nodded nonchalantly, running a hand through your hair that you just let out of a ponytail. You weren’t willing to divulge any further information as to why you were off sick, and Leon seemed to notice this, and decided not to press. You were grateful, knowing he respected your privacy because he actually cared about your boundaries.
You blew out a long breath before thanking Leon again and heading to the showers. Leon watched you leave the gym longingly, the image of you shaking your hair out of your ponytail fresh in his mind. He wondered what was bothering you, and if it was something he could help with.
#resident evil#Leon s Kennedy x reader#Leon Kennedy x reader#Leon Kennedy#Leon s Kennedy#fan fic#re2#resident evil 2#jill valentine#Chris Redfield
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Story does include smut. Minors do not interact with this post, thank you.
Trigger warnings: description of near assault/ bullying, age gap, dominant, dark Harry (kinda?), praise, dad! Harry, younger reader (early 20s), body image issues, self esteem issues… reader is just incredibly insecure… everything that goes hand in hand with that basically— and lots of smutty stuff! This will be kind of slow burn!! Long story so get comfortable! Also please read with discretion lovelies. You all matter.
This story was requested but the requester asked to remain anonymous so I will not be mentioning anything about their request but please to anyone out there struggling with any type of body imagine problems please PLEASE know you’re absolutely beautiful and I hope one day you will see that.
©️ please do not copy or translate my work.
Harry x plus size Inexperienced fem! Reader (Harry is not famous in this story)
Make you mine
"You cannot be serious Anna"
Your voice was annoyed and frustrated "oh I'm deadly serious”
You throw a glare directly at Anna who's grinning at you mischievously "you’re unbelievable. I’ve got work to focus on anyways so… no.” You murmur a flush of red appearing upon your already reddened cheeks. You didn’t do parties. You didn’t like parties. Full stop. Parties were where bad things happen and you were not planning on getting involved with that type of shit.
"Don't change the subject! Y/n please... PLEASE. You know it'll be fun!! Plus Jamie is fine as hell... his tattoos and shit like-" you felt annoyance spread throughout you your hand coming up to pinch the bridge of your nose "alright alright! Fine.. whatever. I'll come with you to your friends stupid party." You mutter rolling you eyes watching out of your peripheral as Anna does a little happy dance, before tightly wrapping her arms around your neck
"Thank god! Now we've got to choose your outfit. That red dress looks real good on you." She spoke suddenly sporadically searching through your wardrobe making you roll your eyes. She cannot be serious. Going to a party is one thing but dressing up with zero body confidence is another thing.
“Anna.” You spoke in a warning tone, fear and worry spreading across your features “I am not skinny. Im not even pretty. I don’t have your body confidence!” You didn’t feel beautiful whatsoever. You felt like an absolute failure and mess most of the time. You just felt ugly. Sure Anna would beg to differ but she was your best friend, of course she would boost you up. You hated the way you looked it made you feel sick... you hated your body. You hated yourself. You hated everything to do with yourself. “Y/n! Enough. You’re beautiful. Keep talking shit and I might just have to get a handsome guy to show you how perfect you really a-“ “NO. Anna. Oh my god gross— no.”
You say exasperated as you plop down onto the bed, laying down- your arms dangling just above your head as you breathe quietly hearing hangers clattering together as your best friend continued viciously searching through your wardrobe.
Jamie Goodman was.... Something else. He was annoying. The class clown basically. He used to be in your tutor group in school and he just had to fucking follow your path to college classes and annoy you further. Anna thought the world of him and you were almost 100% certain that they had slept together once or twice.
"Found it!!" Anna cheered spinning around with the red dress held in her hands grinning widely "c'mon put it on! I want to get there early!" She spoke and you squeezed your eyes shut, exhaling. You loved Anna. She was your best friend, you adored her, but god could she get so fucking annoying sometimes. She made you want to rip your hair out but... she wouldn't be your best friend if she didn't do that occasionally.
"I cannot believe you made me agree with you" you mutter before standing up yanking the dress from her hands, stripping off your clothes as she too began getting changed into an outfit far too revealing- a tank top that was more like a bra top. And short shorts, her entire stomach and rib cage exposed along with her long legs. Gods to have her confidence and carelessness…
"Might want to pack condoms." You speak to her, hearing the shifting of material pause as she glances at you brows raising before a slight laugh leaves her lips "I'm on the pill, babes. Chill." She smiled assuringly and you sigh shaking your head. You and her were complete opposites- her full of confidence however you were a mess. No confidence. No body confidence... no dates... no boys... you’ve never had a first kiss or even had a man touch you before... you’ve never been intimate with anyone before— ever. And quite honestly you were afraid to even experience it.
—
“Come on!!”
Anna shouted from downstairs and you stood up after contemplating your life decisions— spraying your perfume all over yourself leaving your face bare from any makeup. You didn’t want any advances being made upon you just because you looked a bit different with makeup on... although you highly doubted that would ever happen. No man wanted to touch you. If for a dare they would but not for any other reason. Or so you thought.
You jog downstairs to where Anna is keys in hand before she smiles grabbing onto your hand and dragging you out of the home intertwining her fingers with yours "it'll be fun girl. Loosen up."
The drive there was fairly fast and you had almost twenty minutes to spare. "We're here too early." You spoke but Anna only shook her head grabbing a present from the back and you raised your brows "it's Jamie's birthday. That's why we were both invited...." your lips parted eyes widening Anna laughing, “you shouldn’t told—“
"Shh y/n. Don't worry. Here." She then shoved a smaller wrapped present into your hands winking at you as relief wrapped around your body. Thank fuck.
You then got out of the car with her, walking with her towards the front door, the door being opened by the familiar dirty blonde who quickly pulled Anna into his embrace hugging her for a little too long to be “just friends” before his eyes turned to you and he smiled. genuinely.
"Didn't think you'd come, y/n. But glad to see you here." He spoke and without even hesitating he pulled you in for a hug your eyes widening at the sudden hug shared between the two of you. You hugged him tenderly, awkwardly almost— not entirely knowing how to act.
"Anna persuaded me. But c'mon.. how could I not come see the birthday boy." You smile awkwardly after pulling back, soon holding the present out for him to take his baby blues smiling as he smiled taking the present from you "well nonetheless- glad you could make it. And thank you… I appreciate it.” You only nod not saying anything else, a slight nervous smile remaining on your lips— Anna purposely elbowing you in the ribs to attempt to loosen you up more her eyes saying it all.
Jamie was way different without all his friends around... he was kind. Real. Genuine. How strange... "c'mon let's go into the living room. We can watch a movie before the others arrive. Would you girls like a drink?"
—
A while passed before eventually more people were filing in, you remained sat on the sofa drink of Pepsi in your hand as you took occasional nervous sips. Anna had been whisked away by Jamie and you were certain they were creating the slight banging noises coming from upstairs... and well... that said something didn't it?
You grimaced just at the thought before shaking your head clearing your throat before you decided to stand up, the living room becoming a major crowded area and so you feeling your anxiousness grow quickly left the area, walking around for a bit before finally stopping stood just in the doorway to the kitchen your fingers grasping onto your Pepsi tighter as you took more sips from it. You exhaled softly leaning into the doorway slightly your brows creasing as you stared at a mixture of young adults and what looked to be literal 16 year olds dancing together... what the fuck? That's not creepy at all… however that became the least of your worries as you suddenly felt a rather warm presence behind you, your stomach fluttering anxiously,
"Excuse me"
You quickly turn around expecting a teenager only to come face to face with dad-like material. Old enough to be a dad... he wasn't a teenager. Your mouth was working faster than your brain as you only managed to stammer over a word before finally backing up "I'm so sorry..."
You smile nervously allowing your eyes to scavenge the man— he had piercing green eyes. Beautiful chestnut brown hair that had slight curls to it on the top and a beautiful smile that showed two pretty dimples. Tattoos were layered up and down his skin, a butterfly one seeming to be on his chest from what you could see. He wore a loose fitting shirt that was unbuttoned at the top revealing some of his toned chest. He was... god like.
"No need to apologise, love." He assured with a smile as he went to walk past you, shoulders brushing momentarily before he stopped glancing over his shoulder looking back at you “you look a bit young to be here..."
He spoke some sort of amusement in his eyes not revealing whether he was toying with you or being genuine. Shyness wrapped around you momentarily before you soon answered in an attempt to stick up for yourself— "I'm twenty two, sir." You speak politely the man fully turning so his body was facing you "you look a bit old to be here." You soon retort as he doesn't respond, instead only raising a brow as if pushing the idea of you telling little white lies to him. "Call me Harry."
"You look a bit old to be here, Harry." You rephrase
His eyes glinted with amusement before he cleared his throat "got off work... decided to come have some fun."
You narrow your eyes at him as if showing you didn’t believe him but really you were poking fun at him… exactly what he was doing with you. “What do you do for work?" You ask noticing the palpable tension that was between you and him. It only seemed to be growing more intense as the seconds went by.
"Surgeon"
He spoke simply and you raised your brows "like plastic surgery? Butt lifts and-"
"No." His words were light and airy as he laughed shaking his head "reconstruction surgery."
"Reconstruction?”
“There seems to be an echo in here.” his tone was playful but still nonetheless he nods to confirm your question but he still saw the curiosity on your face "say someone gets into an accident or— a kid falls off their bike let's say he wasn't wearing any protective gear apart from a helmet. No sleeves. No knee pads... no nothing... if he hits the road and skids down it, his skin is either going to be red and sore or his skin is going to be torn off. There's no exact way we can put that dirty infected and broken skin back onto him so we have to reconstruct the skin somehow..."
Your brows raise in interest "so like take it from somewhere less obvious? The leg.. or something?" You speak and he nods taking a sip of the beverage in his ring covered hand,
"Yeah. I mean my job is to simply make the skin look top condition... in the end it doesn't matter where the skin comes from. If it can stretch far enough to cover the wound then you know... it's good enough."
You hum in response clearly rather interested before you smile "that's interesting..." you study him carefully trying to figure him out. You weren’t sure what was wrong with you but Harry seemed to beckon a different side out of you…
"I didn't think a surgeons "thing" was parties..." you soon murmur
"There's a lot of things you don't think, love. If I remind you quickly we've only just met..." his emerald eyes twinkled with amusement brows raised as he smirked.
Your cheeks immediately flush red and you stare at him slightly dumbfounded a nervous smile forming on your face "sorry" you giggle out Harry only shaking his head as he smiled "I'm just kidding. But you're right... parties aren't places surgeons often involve themselves with.. me particularly" he admitted and just as you were about to say something, a different voice cut mine off— “Hey dad can we order pizza?" Your eyes immediately move to the voice. Jamie. His hair slightly dishevelled some red marks left on his neck. Wonderful. But that barely mattered anymore as you looked at who he was talking to… harry. Your heart immediately stops in your chest. Jamie's dad was Harry. The man you were flirting with. That wasn’t flirting though was it? Your stomach flutters nervously. This absolutely was not happening no way…. Your cheeks were a crimson red colour, your eyes slightly wide and your lips slightly parted and god were you glad Harry’s attention wasn’t on you anymore.
"Jamie there's pizza in the fridge. As your mother said, we cannot afford takeaway right now. Remember?" His voice snapped me back out of your thoughts as you focused back on the handsome man, eyes flicking to look at Jamie.
"But dad there's like 80 people here!" He exclaimed Harry's face remaining calm and unfazed "who invited them?" He spoke Jamie's brows arching "you cannot be serious! Oh my god!" The boy yelled before storming off not saying anything else. Childish much? At this old age? Talking to his father like that? Wow the disrespect.
You look back at Harry only when he speaks— "sorry for his behaviour." He spoke as you remained shocked "it's okay... but... I didn't realise you were his dad..." you admit and he smiles slightly "he took his mothers last name. His mother and I are divorced, you see… he doesn’t exactly like that his mother has gone out for a pamper evening and has left me to look after him.” He explained— so Jamie really did have daddy issues? Huh. Your lips part slightly as you realise what he was saying "oh... that makes sense... i- uhm... wow."
Harry nods "Jamie still holds a grudge against me. It's diff-" harry cuts himself off realising what he was saying to his sons friend before he sighed pinching the bridge of his nose "I apologise... uh..." your eyes snap back up to his eyes from roaming across each of his tattoos “Y/n…” you speak with a small smile "I'm sorry y/n... you've come here to party and-" the way your name rolled off of his tongue so perfectly drove you insane and you weren’t sure why. "No sir..." "Harry." He cuts you off making your cheeks flush red "sorry, no Harry. I came here not on my own accord..." you let out a nervous laugh. "My friend begged me to come. I didn't really want to be here anyway so... it's okay. You're far more interesting than this party anyways." You speak soon realising how weird that sounded your eyes widening, Harry quickly catching on as he let out a small chuckle that sounded like honey to your ears— waving one hand at you to signal you not to worry. Dismissing your concerns. "Don't worry. I know what you mean."
You smile feeling the conversation become dry and although you didn't want to leave you knew you should best go find Anna. "I'll see you around, Harry." You speak with a small smile and he nods his head at you "yes you will. I'll see you around, y/n." He tilted his head at you and you smiled before quickly leaving to go and find Anna. As you made your way through all the dancing bodies your eyes finally locked on Anna who seemed to be totally black out drunk. Already. Great! Another time where you had to look after her for her stupid decisions. Her eyes immediately found yours and she practically jumped up and stumbled towards you, lips smushing against your cheek leaving a nice red lipstick mark “Anna you’re so drunk… you really don’t know when you stop.” You murmur to her, watching Jamie drunk too but sensible enough to remain vigilant assuring you that he could deal with her. You were unsure but eventually accepted it walking back to the kitchen and grabbing another drink, sticking to yourself yet throughout the entire night you felt eyes on you… which was an extremely rare occurrence. But this night— someone couldn’t keep their eyes off of you. He couldn’t.
The night continued on, you didn’t touch a drop of alcohol but eventually nearly everyone was filing out and just as you were about to go and find Anna again a cold hand grabbed a hold of your wrist yanking you harshly back into the kitchen where you were roughly slammed against the kitchen counter a pair of dark brown eyes meeting yours— your breath hitched your eyes wide, drink that was once in your hand now on the floor the liquid spilling out of it,
“You’re so pretty…”
The boys wandering hands began groping at your body “p-please get off of me.”
“P-p-p-p… scaredy cat. Never been touched by someone before hmm?”
Hi words were vile and cruel making your stomach churn. “I—“ you tried to gather your thoughts “I don’t even know you! Get off of me!” “Well my names Evan and your name is Y/n. Correct? You know me just fine babe..” a low chuckle left his lips your eyes widening further as you felt his hand suddenly trailing further down your body,
“Somebody hel—“
“Shut up!” His hand clamped over your mouth as he glared into your eyes “don’t you want to not be a virgin anymore? Isn’t that embarrassing? But it makes sense doesn’t it. Have you taken a look at yourself in the mirror lately?” His words are cruel amusement flickering in his dark eyes your breathing growing laboured as tears formed in your eyes “what? Babe I’m telling you the truth don’t you get that? I just want to help—“
“What the fuck is going on here?” The sudden voice made both yours and Evan’s head snap towards the door the once horrible guy now stumbling back, eyes wide as his eyes remain upon Harry. Your breathing trembled, hands shaking “nothing” “nothing? It didn’t look like nothing.” Harry spat out taking intimidating steps towards Evan “I have half the mind to break your jaw…” “you’d be arrested” Evan spat back, Harry raising his brows “on what terms? Self defence? I saw you touching her. I saw her cry. I heard her scream for help whilst you covered her mouth. Now that isn’t very consensual now is it?” You watched with horrified eyes as Harry was now eye to eye with Evan not touching him whatsoever but the clear domination he had, had Evan pressed into the wall looking scared out of his mind “but you’d be arrested. Assault. bodily harm. Sexual assault… I doubt you’d want to find out anymore of the charges you could face… isn’t that correct Evan?”
But before Evan even said anything the once confident asshole had ran straight past Harry, practically shitting himself.
Harry’s jaw was clenched, tempted to go after him but decided not to knowing he had better things to worry about. You. He attempted to calm himself down before he eventually looked towards you noticing how you remained against the counter— still trembling “y/n…” he took a slow advance towards you and your breath hitched “hey… it’s me. It’s all alright.” His tone was softer than before, extending his hand out towards you his concern clear, and before either of you could’ve prepared yourselves you had practically slammed yourself into him arms wrapped securely around his waist, your fingers curled into the material of his shirt as you trembled his tall figure towering over you as he peered down at you, shaking in his embrace, scarred… he secured both arms around you and pulled you closer to the point your face was smushed completely into his chest the smell of his strong expensive cologne drifting into your senses… he smelt like heaven.
His hand slowly traced up and down your back in a soothing manner. “You’re okay, y/n.” His voice was assuring as he kept a tight grip on you attempting to console you as best as possible yet you refused to let him see your face, remaining practically glued to him. “Is there someone you’d like me to call? Someone to take you home?” He questioned but he didn’t get a response out of you, you were shutting down completely as a flight or fight response. He however didn’t push you, instead wrapping his arm around you again as he began leading your half aware self upstairs walking you into the guest bedroom of the large house— closing the door behind the both of you before he sat you down, your shaking hands rushing to grab onto him again scared he was going to leave…
“I’m here y/n. Right here.” He exhaled softly sitting beside you on the bed, his large hand resting upon your shoulder gently— thumb caressing lightly against the material of your dress his eyes watching the top of your head, you refused to look at him and that saddened him. “Hey…” he reached his free hand out towards you finger pressing underneath your chin as he guided you to look at him your eyes filled to the brim with tears “h-harry..” you whimpered his eyes softening and he without even thinking pulled you in close “I’m here. I’m right here…” “please don’t leave.” He silently shook his head and exhaled softly before he kicked his shoes off, the thump of each one landing on the ground making you realise your friends friend dad was sharing a bed with you… to comfort you of course.
Harry leaned back, tattooed arm being quick to pull you close giving you no choice as he simply pulled you on top of him “i— too heavy—“ you breathed out shakily but that didn’t stop the man from pulling you onto his chest, arms tightly wrapped around you “nonsense. Relax.”
Those two words were the only words he spoke to you, forcing you to relax against him, his hand trailing up and down your back soothingly making sure to give you all the comfort possible. He held you tight not daring to let go of you, his eyes constantly checking on you until he believed you were asleep your breathing much more calmer and quiet, but despite the fact that he knew he could leave… he didn’t want to.
9PM slowly rolled to 11PM until it was 4AM— Harry was still wide awake, eyes however slightly hooded his breathing slow and quiet along with yours. You hadn’t stirred at all you remained silent, Harry stayed convincing himself it was because he was worried you would have a nightmare but he knew it was much more than that. Much more. His eyes tiredly focused on the red digital clock 4:15AM… he never called in sick for work— ever. But if he had to, to look after you then he would. He had spent the time you were asleep trying to figure out his feelings, telling himself how wrong it was… but you ignited something within him. Something he couldn’t quite figure out.
“Harry”
Your morning voice was cute somethings harry noticed immediately. “Y/n.” He responded, voice deep but soft his voice confirming he had stayed there for you. He had protected you… something no other guy had done for you… “what time is it?” You ask him groggily as you slowly force yourself to sit up, Harry’s arms unwrapping from around you “4:19” he spoke simply and you rubbed your eyes letting out a quiet groan your head pounding from the events of last night. You were now sat on top of him, slightly straddling him— innocently so Harry’s eyes searching your face tiredly his hands lazily grasping onto your hips mindlessly. “Can I ask you something personal?” You soon question him, his brows arching flawlessly as he tries to figure out what exactly you meant but nonetheless he nodded his head. “Do guys really not like fat girls?”
The question clearly alarmed him, his eyes readjusting on you before he furrowed his brows “what makes you say that?” He murmured quietly “what he said last night… or what he was hinting at. The reason I haven’t lost my virginity yet is because I’m too fat.” Harry stares blankly for a moment or two before he blinks his eyes a bit of surprise lingering on his face not expecting you to be so honest with him seeing as you had only met last night…
“Y/n that was a boy. A boy looks for magazine cover girls… skinny… big boobs big butts— fake. Edited. A man looks for what’s on the inside. A pretty smile. A pretty personality. What’s on the inside… sure people will have their own preferences…. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t beautiful. Because you are.” His eyes remain glued to yours, searching your face for any look of doubt which he could shut down immediately but there was none detected… only surprise. “I’m beautiful?” He nods silently to confirm your shocked question, a smirk forming on his lips making his dimples appear and your breath hitches as you search his face and in those moments you finally realise the position you were in— legs straddling him, hands touching lightly against his chest your eyes widening slightly “I’m so sorry I-“ “stay.” His voice was stern green eyes staring into yours “what?” Your voice is shocked yet again and he smiles
“Be a good girl and stay.”
You felt your heart pounding wildly in your chest your eyes searching his face “you’re beautiful, y/n… you want to know something?” His hands remain resting upon your hips and you nod hesitantly “yesterday when I met you… I was certain you weren’t as innocent as they say you are… but maybe you are… have you ever touched yourself before?” His words leave you shocked, your cheeks furiously heating up as you stare at him shocked “w-what?” “Have you ever touched yourself?” Your breath hitched feeling him rub soothing circles into your hips your eyes searching his face certain he was toying with you…. To make you feel some sort of hope… or maybe he just felt bad for you and at that thought your heart dropped “Harry I— I don’t need your sympathy please… I—“
“Who said anything about sympathy y/n? Have you touched yourself before? A simple question.” His words made a hot fever like wave flush into your stomach a shaky breath leaving your lips “yes… but…” your mouth got as dry as a bone as you attempted to wrack your brain to not say something stupid. “But…?” He coaxed delicately your eyes snapping to meet his again “but I can’t get what I want.” He quirks a brow and you knew that he knew what you meant. He wasn’t stupid. “It’s embarrassing—“ “oh no it’s not.” His large hand caresses against your cheek, finger tips soon curling around the nape of your neck as he began pulling you closer to him until you were practically inches away from one another…
“It’s okay y/n.”
You search his eyes nervously and he smiles a slight twinkle in his eyes making your stomach flutter with butterflies “life is a learning curve…”
You stare at him expectantly, confused, watching as he smiled “you just haven’t had the right teacher.” His words made your stomach leap as your breath caught in your throat… what did that mean? He was going to teach you? But before you could’ve even asked he had sat himself up, back against the headboard— lips finding yours in a deep sensual kiss his fingers pressed against the nape of your neck keeping you still the kiss getting deeper, more passionate, leaving you breathless— you weren’t even sure you were doing it correctly, Harry pulling back momentarily to look at you “Harry I don’t know how to do this.”
“Don’t worry, love.” His tone was reassuring as he smiled calmly at you. “Just follow my lead.”
His lips attached to yours again his kiss making you dizzy. It was addicting. His hands trailed up and down your sides delicately, before his hands carefully began prying at the hem of your dress guiding it further and further upwards before finally removing it from your body his eyes studying you. He looked at you as if you were a supermodel…
“Lay down.”
His tone was demanding but you still did so. Getting off of him and laying down, left only in your bra and underwear which was highly vulnerable for you but you tried not to stress too much.
He got onto his knees, the bed creaking slightly as he adjusted himself over you, his lips pressing against yours gently as he began kissing down your neck— sucking slightly every so often hearing the sweet sounds that left your mouth “that feel good hm?” You nodded your head gently the simplicity of him kissing your neck drove you absolutely wild your stomach in knots but it felt good. He began trailing kisses down your body, lips pressing softly against your tummy insecurity immediately getting the best of you as you whined attempting to cover up “hey..” he strict voice grabbed your attention “you’re beautiful.” He spoke making you remove your hands which were nervously remaining close to your body. He eventually continued to leave kisses all over until eventually he had reached your thighs his eyes flicking up to meet yours “get comfortable.” He spoke simply watching you grab a few pillows before you laid down comfortably “good girl.”
He peered down just between your thighs— closing his mouth as he sucked in a sharp breath as the sight of you before him… all for him. To devour. To ruin. To make sure you knew your worth… all. For. Him. “If you want me to stop at any point. We can. Understood?” He spoke watching you nod “use your words, Angel.” “Yes Harry.” You spoke shakily and he smiled. Boundaries were always good to have in place. He wanted you to know that you were allowed to have boundaries. You felt the sensation of your panties being slid down your legs, exposing your heat to him— using one single finger to trace up and down your slit a shiver running directly down your spine a low whimper leaving your lips “feels good hm” your breath only hitched no words leaving your mouth as the odd but wonderful sensation soon becomes your favourite thing. His finger didn’t linger too long in any specific place— sliding up and down before mercilessly toying with your clit. Pointer finger delicately tracing around the bud whines and moans leaving your lips as he watched your every reaction as if he was taking an image of the moment in his mind. Not wanting to forget it. “That’s it relax… relax for me y/n.” He praised delicately watching how your body relaxed further into the bed his tongue soon adding to the pleasure, flicking over your clit and all over your body shaking with the new feelings erupting throughout you “feel good angel?”
“Yes sir” a cry of pleasure leaves your lips and for the first time Harry didn’t correct you— instead he smirked, tongue lashing more fervently against your heat.
As your body began to squirm his large hands grasped onto your thighs, holding your still keeping you down for him as he continued flicking his tongue all over your core. “A-ah harry..” you cried out your back arching up off of the bed as an unfamiliar feeling surrounded you— tingles running up and down your body “that’s it… that’s it… oh such a good girl…” incoherent whimpers of his name left your lips until eventually your first orgasm ripped throughout you— Harry moaning, the sound of his moan enticing something within you a look of pride within his eyes “good girl.” He smiled genuinely as you panted, attempting to calm yourself down. He repositioned himself on his knees his hand beginning to trace up and down your arm slowly and carefully soothing you, allowing you to catch your breath your hands working before your brain as you reached out towards his jeans— his ring covered hands immediately stopping your hands,
“Ah ah impatient our we?”
A smirk tugged at his lips “please.” You spoke and he studied you carefully “tell me.” He spoke tenderly “tell me what you want to do?” One hand traced up to your cheek which he caressed gently, thumb brushing over your lower lip delicately “make you feel good…” you murmured softly Harry quirking a brow at your innocence but he decided not to pry. Instead he nodded “are you sure?”
He watched you nod your eyes meeting his again “you’re my teacher right?”
He smirked slightly and let out a low chuckle before he only nodded. Allowing you to undo his jeans as he leaned back. His length was hard— his hand immediately beginning to rub up and down your eyes watching him carefully “see what I’m doing?” He spoke, you nodding. “You do that.” You slowly took over your hand beginning to pump up and down, his head leaning backwards eyes rolling into the back of his head slightly and the more comfortable you got the more quick your pace grew “you’re doing it darling… you’re doing great.” He praised breathy moans continuing to leave his lips— he continued guiding you until his hand was in your hair, helping you as your mouth began hollowing out around him, tongue swirling around the tip— doing everything almost naturally Harry’s groans and moans growing louder
“Fuck y/n your mouth feels so good… fuck!”
His grip tightened on your hair helping move your head up and down until eventually his cock twitched and his orgasm wrapped around him his moans gravelly and beautiful driving you insane making you want more… desperate for more… greedy for more… and as he pulled you up and off of him by the hair his eyes were glazed over with hunger “fuck… you felt so fucking good.” He spoke clearly feeling the same. Just as hungry for more his hand coming to caress against your cheek lightly your eyes showing your hunger into which his thumb stroked against your lower lip “next time.” Next time? His eyes searched your face and he smirked slightly “next time when we’re alone in the house I’ll teach you some more.. but for now… we don’t want to get caught do we?” He smirked slightly before shaking his head chuckling slightly “you did so good.” He pulled you in for a light kiss a little confident grin tugging at your lips…
“Learnt from the best.” You whispered his green eyes glowering into yours as he grinned keeping a hold on you… it was very clear neither of you were forgetting each other anytime soon.
I hope this was okay and you enjoyed it! I kinda just went with the flow rather than with an actual idea in my head so I hope it isn’t awful… I haven’t written smut in a while so excuse it if it’s bad… anyways more stories coming hopefully soon! Thanks for reading loves!!
#x reader#harry edward styles#harry styles#harry styles x y/n#yn#harry styles x you#one direction#harry styles smut#dad harry styles#harry styles x reader#harrystyles#cute#harry smut#smut#plus size reader#harry x fem reader#fem reader#comforting#tw triggers#requested#requests open#smut story#kind of smut#harry fluff#harry styles fluff#fluff#harrystyles x plus size reader#harry x reader#reader insert
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ryujin itzy headcanons (nsfw/nsft) (wlw)
warnings: dom ryu, sub reader, mommy kink, fingering, riding, public sex, orgasm denial, slight humiliation, slight overstimulation, cursing, praise.
feel free to send me asks with thoughts and suggestions!
• she’s huge on ‘any time, any place’. you can always tell when she wants you because she always has a certain dark look in her eyes and its enough to make you physically weak at the knees. sofa, bed, bathroom, kitchen, she literally makes it her goal to switch it up every time to keep it interesting.
• she’s also into public sex. it started off pretty tame like fucking you in shop fitting rooms or in public bathrooms, covering your mouth to keep you quiet so you guys wouldnt get caught. but it quickly escalated, for example getting you to ride her thigh in a corner booth in a club, leaving wet sloppy kisses all over your neck making you whine as you grind against her. thank god the music drowns you out.
• she loves to talk you through it, praising you during your climax. “that’s it baby, let it out. you’re doing so well for me.” GODDDDD
• she also calls herself mommy in third person and lets out a breathy moan every time you call her that title yourself. “mommy’s got you baby.. did i tell you to stop?” it makes you die every time without fail omfg.
• she works you up in the most torturous ways imaginable, putting her hands all over your body as slow and as light as possible, smirking at you because she loves to watch you become desperate. she kisses and softly sucks at the skin on your neck as she gropes your breasts, her thumbs soon running across your nipples from over your clothes, just enough for you to feel it and writhe under her because “it isnt enough, mommy.”
• she ALWAYS asks you if you feel good, sometimes moving her hands away from your core with a smug look on her face straight after, simply to be a little mean. “mommy’s getting tired baby, can you fuck yourself on my fingers?” of course she isn’t tired, she’s only going to suddenly pump into you when you least expect it.. she just wants to watch you put on a show for her first like the obedient girl you are.
• she loves missionary over any other position because she adores watching you fall apart below her, gripping onto the sheets underneath or trying to cover your face with your arms or hands. she finds it adorable when you’re embarrassed and vulnerable.
• “what do you want, baby? where do you want to be touched? use your words, my pretty girl.” UGHHH
• she’s extremely cocky at times. if your phone rings she’ll continue pleasuring you and order you to take the call, but doesnt get mad if you end it suddenly due to it being too much for you. it only turns her on more that shes the one making you feel this good. she knows you wont even have the energy to call them back once she’s done with you anyways. LORDDD
• her speed increases every time you come, often pumping into you with two fingers as she sucks on your clit. she wont stop even after you finish just to watch you whine and shake because you’re overstimulated, and truthfully, it hurts. she’s not mean enough to continue though, its just for a few seconds.
• if you come on her fingers she’ll take them out and get you to taste yourself. “how does my baby girl taste? mm good, right?” feeling you suck on her fingers only makes her groan. she could easily climax just from watching you. most of the time she’ll kiss you straight after just to taste you once more on your own lips.
• she doesn’t want it all the time as shes more of a giver, but on occasion she’ll ask you to touch her too. “just like that. fuck, baby..” she talks you through it, encouraging you the entire time and guiding your hands where she secretly desperately needs them to get off. her moans are breathy and low, often throwing her head back and bucking up her hips, especially if you’re eating her out which is her favourite thing ever omfg.
• she constantly curses under her breath as if she cant handle the way you make her feel, as if every time is her first. she grips onto your hair and tugs it slightly without realising but you don’t mind. you wouldn’t dare keep her waiting so you make her come as fast and as intensely as you can, she loves that shit.
• she LOVES eye contact, especially when she forces you to maintain it. she will grip your hair or your chin to make sure your eyes cant leave hers. “good girl, look at me. eyes on mommy.”
lorddd i cant cope
#girl group#itzy smut#ryujin itzy#itzy ryujin#ryujinitzy#ryujin fanfic#ryujin imagines#itzy imagines#ryujin smut#ryujin nsft#itzy nsft#wlw nsft#wlw community#wlw ns/fw#lesbian#itzy headcanon#ryujin headcanon#headcanon#girl group imagines#girl group fanfic
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BAU autism headcannons
(GIF NOT MINE)
(male reader)
CW: possible swearing, mentions of meltdowns and overstimulation, lemme know if theres anything else!
A/N: sry i havent rly posted in a while, i started a school recently and its been a rly big change for me so ive just been emotionally/mentally exhausted like all the time, but i dont wanna abandon u guys so i decided i would get something up, even if its not super good, thanks for y’all’s understanding <3
i think both JJ and Emily would become sort of mothers to reader
(not that they werent already mothers to the rest of the team but reader especially)
like JJ would totally have a motherly instinct for readers needs (like a sort of spider sense)
like if your ever nervous about something being too much or being overwhelming, jj would kinds know this and either make arrangements for accommodations or make sure you know you dont have to go if you want to.
and like she definitely wold put herself in charge of keeping your safe foods stashed on the jet and at the office
emily is more of a mother in a protective way than jj is
like this girl will not hesitate at all to go off on someone for maybe being disrespected to about stimming your chair while thinking
or like if you dont want to shake a police officers hand when your being introduced, and you get dirty/weird looks for it, or anyone comments on it? BOOM this girl will stare at them with so much animosity they’ll be scared of her shes so hot oml
anyways i thinks he team would be super accepting of you, especially if you joined after reid like they would already have some experience with autism
and like if you weren’t ent comfortable telling anyone other than hotch(i feel like it would be like a in ur file thing idk how the government works tho) spencer would defo be able to tell and confront u privately abt it (our respectful king <3)
and if you are comfortable telling the team, everyone would be respectful
i think like rossi/gideon would be a little clueless but like trying their hardest
like rossi would have no idea what stimming is but understands that like you move in certain ways or make certain noises when ur excited
and like with all his money he wouldnt hesitate to spoil u with any fidget toy u need/want or like a rly nice weighted blanket (its insane how expensive those things are)
and like gideon despite his profound understanding of others (hope yall got that ;)) he wouldn’ t get why sometimes you dont feel like/cant talk but totally respects it
omg garcia is our autism ally QUEEN im telling you
always has a big basket of fidgets/stim toys sitting on her desk and when your having a rough day shell leave you a little goodie in a brightly colored and decorated bag
i firmly believe that she is the queen at finding brands with clothes that not only fits your style perfectly but is also sensory friendly
i think she would definitely say that if she never ended up working in the FBI she wouldve started a clothing shop for sensory friendly clothing/accessories
spencer would totallllyyyy be your best friend when it comes to being under-stimulated
he will totally info dump on you and vice-versa
spencer (like penlope) would totally recommend clothing brands that are sensory friendly, but sock brands in particular
and everyone makes fun of you for nerding out over everything
also spencer would definitely get in the habit of grabbing your hands in his when you start to pick a t your nails and cuticles
like he didnt even realize what he was doing the first time but now he does it without thinking about it and for the team its normal
“hey,” and he would gently grab your hands to stop you from picking at them
“sorry..”
”youve nothing to be sorry for” (with that little reid smile oml rf[osifjgturhv)
and i also firmly believe that morgan is the best people to go to if your having a meltdown
he would stop you from harmfully stimming
“hey sugar, unclench those pretty little hands for me. there we go… good job kid.” he would have the softest smile and voice
and when he takes your hands to stop you from hitting yourself his grip is rly firm but gentle
but hotch is the best to go to for when your overstimulated
like he would make sure you know his office is always a quiet place you can go to with out questions
and he would secretly have a stash of like stimm toys in his office that he stole from garcia
his couch is always open to you, especially like late at night if you are really tired his fatherly instincts will kick in and force you to come to his office for a break
he would would hand you and blanket and a stim toy
”sit. sleep”
thats all he would say in his cute little stern but actually caring voice <3
#criminal minds#bau team#bau#spencer reid#emily prentiss#derek morgan#aaron hotchner#david rossi#penelope garcia#jennifer jereau#criminal minds x gn reader#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds x masc! reader#criminal minds x fem!reader#headcannons#autism#autism headcannons#criminal minds x autistic reader
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Pomiluj me (Love Me Tender) - S.R.
Type: medieval/fantasy/fairy tale AU; standalone (NOT a part of this medieval AU)
Pairing: knight Steve Rogers x reader
Word Count: 10k 😁 best possible division if needed is at the first divider
Summary:
Knight Steven Rogers and his brothers in arms are returning home after having tackled an unruly creature terrorizing the people of Starkerbürg. Upon encountering an injured woman, Steven offers to bring her – carry her, truly – back to her home. How could he deserve a knighthood if he left a woman in distress to her fate, after all?
But not everything it as it seems. And love blooms in the most unlikely of places.
Warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, unprotected sex (shocking in medieval times huh), bit of angst, tons of fluff, himbo knights in BBC Merlin style (long live the legends), knight Steve ‘cause he’s a warning, Slovak language ‘cause I can
A/N: Title from the song which inspired the story, Pomiluj mě (Love on Me/Love Me Tender)...tumblr cannot handle an “ě “in their title 🙃 Lyrics, translation and link here, you’ll find a few lines in the fic as well - truly recommend. DIVIDER by @firefly-graphics
A/N/2: AO3 says this is my 100th work (as posted here anyway) and I’m brushing 1,680k of words written according to the counter. Which… whoa. And it’s almost six years since I first posted a marvel fic 🥺 Enjoy!
Alone, you only wander in the dark
Chased by the cold
I shall light up the torch you’re guarding
Should I be worried about you
That all you do is take
When are you coming back to me?
The cavalry moved rather slowly.
The noble men appeared a far cry from the polished image known from books, even as they had attempted to wash in a river. They reeked of battle, smoke and blood still; and the drying blood in their wounds was just as red as that of ordinary men, the scent of sweat and fear having seeped into their clothes and armour. And yet, their vests carried the sigil of Starkerbürg with pride, signaling the knights’ dedication to the protection of their kingdom.
With only horse left, they truly might make a pitiful sight, certain weariness to their step; but an air of victory and camaraderie made for a picture of life instead. Laughter sounded between the group, a joke thrown around here and there, a tease about a wound each of them suffered, particularly the youngest one. Despite those, true concern for their new friend, Sir Parker, could be read in their eyes. He was the youngest to ever been dubbed in the history of Starkerbürg; it was no wonder the good men assigned him the role he would have played had the bond they shared been one of a blood family. The youngest of brothers was as much made fun of as protected, since he was eager to prove he deserved the honour to ride with the knights of Starkerbürg just like any other. Now he sat on the horse in front of Sir Barton, the eldest, as they made their way back after successfully ridding the kingdom of a horrific creature: the chimera had been believed to only exist in old tales until it brought terrible and painfully real suffering to the people of the west of the kingdom and so the king’s loyal servants were tasked to ride at dawn five days ago.
“Alright, alright, let us leave the poor lad,” Sir Barton said, patting the young Sir Parker on his shoulder a little too hard. “He shall do better next time.”
Peter smiled over his shoulder gratefully, having started to feel not humbled, but humiliated.
“Yes, yes, we should let him be,” Sir Maximoff agreed, side-eyeing the two riders mischievously. “We should talk about how you moved like an old lady.”
The collective ooooooh and chuckles might have as well come from a group of children, rather than grown men, causing Sir Barton to glare at the cheeky lad he called a friend.
“Old ladies are wise and worth of respect, Maximoff. You could learn a thing or two from them, as you had learned from me,” he scoffed, feigning offence. “Do not forget who taught you how to swing a sword, kiddo.”
“There is a point in what Clint is saying,” Sir Wilson hummed good-naturedly, raising his eyebrow at Pietro in challenge.
“Maybe. Does not change the fact he’s grown seven years older since then, while I have grown seven years more mature.”
The explosion of laughter following his statement was louder this time.
“In your dreams, maybe,” Sir Barnes snorted, elbowing his best of friends, Sir Rogers. “About as mature as this one was when he used to pick his battles with guys twice his size, eh?”
Sir Rogers, Steven to most, only smirked, speaking up for the first time in a while, since his thoughts were far far away. “Should we get technical, we all took up on an enemy twice our size only yesterday morning.”
“Oh?” Sir Barton feigned surprise. “Listen to the guy. He might tell you what brought the monster to its knees next – an arrow straight to its eye. Remind me, Maximoff, whose crossbow it was that fired it?” he asked pointedly, grinning down at the man walking by their horse, earning an eyeroll.
“Did it even have knees?” Sir Lang questioned, “All I know is that it was a nasty, nasty thing.”
“Nastier than Hydra? Cut off one had, two shall takes its place? I truly believed that was only a legend…” Sir Wilson said, a visible shiver of disgust shaking him.
“Not sure we can compare the two… maybe Barnes or Rogers could, huh?” Sir Maximoff suggested.
Steven’s face darkened; he did indeed remember the hydra creature very well for it nearly cost his best friend his arm. The scars still littered Bucky’s skin, from the back of his hand all the way up to his shoulder; Gods had blessed him enough that his ability to use his arm remained intact, even as its appearance did not.
As for the strange chimera they had slayed yesterday… it was true that Steven had gotten more familiar with it then he would have liked. He could recall it with uncomfortable clarity: its foul breath smelling of death on his face, feeling as if it had seeped deep into his very bones when he had finally thrusted his sword through its heart. He could still hear the clang of teeth near his neck, a near death sentence.
No, he would rather not compare the two. He would rather not think of either of the creatures at all.
“Why us, Maximoff? Because I nearly lost my arm to the former and my best friend to latter? No thanks,” Sir Barnes hissed, face turning ashen as well.
Steven instinctively reached for his friend, squeezing his arm, casting a concerned glance as he was torn away from his own dark memories.
“Buck…”
“Are you jesting? Sir Rogers was incredible,” Sir Parker cried out excitedly, having four of the knights groan, for Steven’s bravery – or idiocy, should anyone ask Sir Barnes, truly – was all the youngest knight had been talking about for the majority of their journey, causing Steven’s cheeks redden under his beard, sense of pride and satisfaction battling the terror of the memory. As for the remaining knights, well; while they did not diminish Steven’s important contribution of delivering the fatal blow, they had grown annoyed at the constant babble.
“Sure he was, kiddo.”
“Oh yes. They should probably knight him. Oh wait-“ Sir Wilson said, causing the men to laugh.
“Yeah, a set of deadly teeth perhaps three inches from his throat? Let him have all the glory and Princess Morgana’s hand too,” Sir Barnes grumbled, sending his friend both a proud and irked glance.
A sudden rustle of leaves and a woman’s yelp followed by a thud caused them all fall silent and turnbattle-ready in a split second, snapping in the direction of noise.
However, there was little need for caution. Their intruder barely appeared dangerous: the peasant woman observed them with wide eyes and forehead scrunched in pain, blossoms of common elder, spilled all around her like precious silks of a gown instead of the worn fabric of the simple shirt, shawl and ankle-length skirt, speaking thousand words of what she had been doing until she had fallen. Her fingers were clutching at her left foot, a clear sign of her ungraceful landing. The tree was by no means tall, but that should not mean the fall was what they could call comfortable.
For a moment, the group of knights stood frozen, rendered speechless as much as the poor woman who found herself face to face with not one but seven of the crown’s most loyal servants.
Steven, perhaps the kindest of them all, was the first to snap from the shock of an unexpected disturbance of their journey, releasing the grip on his sword, never having drawn it from its sheath. He took several long strides to the young woman, instantly capturing her attention.
“My lady, are you quite alright?” Steven inquired, gently as he realized his large frame, accentuated by his armour, might intimidate the poor sweetling.
And yet. Just as the question left his lips and his gaze met hers, he was the one rendered mute all of sudden.
Steven had never seen anyone more clearly, he was certain; and just as sure he was of the fact that no woman could ever hope to encompass sincerity and beauty in her eyes only as the one he was facing at the moment.
Her smile was but a shy little thing, pain masked by gratitude for the knight’s care. He was a handsome one, of robust built but with delicate lines to his face, bright blue irises with a speckle of green, plush lips framed by a short beard; distantly, she imagined his wide shoulders would barely fit the doorframe of her cabin – of her hut, truly. She found the imagery enticing, almost as much as the gentle tone he had spoken with despite his giant frame.
“’Quite aright’ seems accurate, sir. I am not hurting much beyond my left ankle,” she admitted, even as her source of discomfort was evident from her hand still covering the affected area.
Steven’s brows furrowed slightly in worry, yet he made no move, spoke no words, even as his lips parted. Instead, his eyes roamed the woman’s face, searching and fascinated. It was the silence which prompted his comrades to enter the interaction.
“Do you think you can walk?” Sir Wilson asked as he stepped forward – a movement barely acknowledged as the woman did not shift her gaze from Steven still.
“Wobble, perhaps,” she said, the corners of her lips briefly turning downwards. “Could perhaps one of you assist me? I should be most grateful for your chivalry.”
Sir Barnes could scoff at the absurdity of her wording; even as she suggested she would welcome anyone’s aid, her fixation on Steven was ridiculously evident. It almost scared him, how steadily she watched him; even as ladies’ interest in his best friend’s company had increased significantly along with how Steven’s muscles had grown, the way this woman observed him… unsettling him for some reason.
“Oh! We should borrow you the horse for a while-“ Sir Parker – bless him, the youngest and the purest of heart of them all – cried out, soon silenced by a more sombre voice of reason of Sir Barnes.
“Kid, you lose your leg should you put your weight on it now. Believe me, I have almost lost my arm to the same foolishness.”
“…oh.”
“Well, I suppose one of us should support you and walk you to your home,” Sir Barton suggested nonchalantly, preparing to dismount the horse. “The most experienced one of us, perhaps?”
“Truly? Is that so, Clinton?” Sir Wilson questioned as he eyed him, his tone carrying wryness of a man who would not care for nonsense – unless it was one that could earn him a great deal of fun. “Why you?”
“I have a pair of very well-working eyes for one,” the older man uttered, causing sir Maximoff to snicker silently.
“So do I and yet I would never offer!” Sir Lang opposed as soon as he understood the meanings behind Sir Barton’s words. “Must we remind you how inappropriate that would be, since you have a lovely wife and three kids at home?”
“And a knee that knows a rain is coming at least two sunsets ahead?” Sir Barnes added for honestly, the foolishness of Sir Barton’s idea battled the one of the youngling’s.
“Ugh, alright then. Spoilsports.”
Sir Maximoff, unsurprisingly, grinned and shrugged as he stepped forward. “Ah, well, fellas, it seems-“
“I can do it. I can even carry her.”
Sir Barnes sighed, an involuntary reaction to best of comrades choosing this moment to snap from his reverie. Speaking of foolishness.
Not once had Steven’s gaze left the beautiful woman since the very moment he had laid his eyes on her, almost as if he was drawn by ancient power whose pull not even his virtuous heart could resist. The pull had been literal too; while the movements had been subtle, step by step Steven inched closer to the woman, now standing barely three feet from her, way too close even as he had been the first to spring forward.
Sir Barnes would be amazed and certainly more than amused at his friend’s antics, had it not been for the fact the scene was as fascinating as disconcerting. For a myriad of reasons. Beginning with-
“You are injured as well,” Sir Wilson noted pointedly.
Sir Wilson appeared to be the only of the men aside from Sir Barnes who had not lost all reason in the midst of all of them having acquired an expression of awe and smugness. In all fairness, the reaction of the knights was nothing short of understandable, for Steven, Sir Rogers, who had kept from many women who had been rather literally battling for his attention, seemed enamoured all of sudden. And of all creatures, enamoured by a beautiful, yet the most ordinary of women. He appeared if not utterly lost to the fabled love at first sight, then certainly lost enough to abandon all reason.
“Oh no, if you are severely injured, I could not possibly-“ the woman resisted, gathering her skirt in attempt to stand up as if to prove she was considerably less inconvenienced by absence of aid than it had originally appeared.
Naturally, her efforts were doomed to failure – and just as naturally, Steve had been there to catch her, promptly supporting her weight. She had barely caught herself, one palm flat against his chest, the other on his bicep, lips parted in silent surprise; and much to the amusement of all knights, in awe of his strength.
Sir Rogers was certainly not the only one of the pair who appeared smitten.
“Thank you, good Sir.”
“Sir Steven Rogers, my lady. I should be happy to aid you,” he pronounced, the words ‘with anything’ unsaid but clearly implied as he helped her straighten up as much as her own injury allowed. “I have not been injured severely. Worry not.”
Needless to say, Sir Barnes would argue; bruised ribs, several cuts, more so when one of them sat right above his brow, should be considered severe enough not to carry a woman in his arms… particularly when these injuries were coupled with a heavy blow to the head. Before, Sir Barnes had not been sure how strong of a hit Steven had taken, but now, seeing how absent of any common sense Steven was-
Ah. His best friend was being quite himself, now that Sir Barnes thought of it.
“…so we are to ignore there are at least three better candidates whose ribs are not bruised or-“ Peter muttered in low voice to his companions, all but earning a warning slap to his healthy leg as Sir Lang gently shushed him, himself charmed by the romantic ballad-worthy scene in front of them.
“Seeing as she does, I suppose we do too,” Sir Maximoff scoffed lowly, tilting his head to side as he observed his comrade, suddenly frowning, his voice dropping to a whisper. “And so does he. Is he alright? He looks… strange. Has any of you put something in his water?”
“You are saying this as if you were not as miffed about him being chosen by her as I am,” Sir Barton huffed, sourness turning into humour at the other man’s misery.
Pietro’s gaze torn away from the pair, their downright love-sick gazes suddenly difficult to watch; it almost felt as if by looking at them, they were prying on an intimate moment. Pietro thought it curious, for he had never had any issues of laughing loud at the displays of affection his fellow knights had offered in the Tower tavern for everyone to see, but he did not want to examine it too hard. He could find joy elsewhere once they had made it to the city, with no shortage of ladies no doubt willing to offer comfort to the heroes of Starkerbürg.
“He is one lucky bastard,” he sighed, patting the horse’s neck, preparing to take off.
“And lucky he might get…” Sir Wilson sing-sang quietly, causing the group to laugh as their gazes once again appreciated the almost palpable spark between the unlikely couple, exchanging knowing glances as the woman gasped when Steven sneaked his arms under her knees and back, lifting her into his arms with ease despite his gear weighting him down.
“Alright, it is settled. We are certain you are safe with Sir Rogers…” Sir Barton called out, entirely ignored by the pair who instead kept observing one another without as much as a blink, as if they could not bear losing even a fraction of the precious time they were given. “For he is-- they are not even listening to me, are they? No one cares about me anymore, I truly must be getting old-”
Sir Barnes sighed again, realization dawning to him; one he should never share with his companions, but one he would for certain inquire about later when Steven returned to the castle.
“We shall move then,” he muttered, beckoning others towards the road, not before sparing the couple a last slightly disapproving glance.
He feared not for his most precious friend’s safety; he only feared for his heart, too big even for the impressive size his body had grown into since his early days as a weakling. At the moment, it was his mind Bucky feared for, since it almost seemed feeble under a spell of a beautiful woman. A spell no one dared to break.
As the group walked away, each of their steps was uncharacteristically silent; until they believed to reach enough of a distance to have a boisterous laugh about Sir Rogers no doubt to be rewarded for his chivalry. The sound bothered not the pair as they smiled at each other softly, the woman’s thumb brushing over Steven’s sternum, covered by worn chainmail.
The simple touch seemed to reach his soul; his breathing, having already eased since he had first caught her, cleared completely, the ache in his bones gone. The woman’s smile widened, silently prompting Steven to start walking. He was not one to hesitate, his feet moving almost of their own volition.
“You are not obliged to carry me,” she said, a teasing note lacing her gentle voice. “I slowed the landing enough. It is nothing but a bruise.”
Steven shook his head, appearing as if he was barely holding back a grin. “But I must, my lady. It is my duty as a knight of Starkerbürg.”
She pursed her lips, one corner lifting in a smirk.
“Oh? Is it so, my good sir? Hm... speaking of knights of Starkerbürg, Sir Rogers,” she emphasized, a playful spark appearing in her eye, “your friends act like children.”
Undignified for a knight for certain – yet who was he to diminish the already scraped reputation of men who truly unsubtly jested about him taking advantage of the very woman in distress he was to help – Steven snorted.
“Don’t I know it.”
“But Samuel might not be wrong…“ she said, voice equally full of amusement and promise. “Set me down, Steven. You must be tired.”
Tired he was not. Not ever since he had met the woman’s eyes moments ago and recognized their beauty and depth as familiar. But who was he to deny a lady?
And a lady she was, for all she was and was not. They might have jested about it together, but in Steven’s mind, she was precisely that and nothing less, no matter what any half-wit of this kingdom would think. Slowly, he lowered her back to her feet, his heart thundering in his ribcage in anticipation as he focused on the sounds surrounding them.
Content with only gentle whisper of the wind and songs of robins for a company, his worn hands cradled the woman’s cheeks, thumbs brushing over her cheekbones, heart trembling when she leaned into his touch, her lips brushing his palm.
In return, the tips of her fingers ghosted over his brow, the nasty cut closing at once, without a single sting of pain. She focused on that aspect often, even as she knew he would try and not as much as flinch for her benefit, much like he had not when she healed his ribs earlier.
“Thank you. They must be far enough now, I am sure,” he whispered, stepping closer so their bodies aligned and nearly merged in one. “Do not hide from me, bosorka moja. Let me see you, beautiful.”
Her smile turned a little coy, even as her soul sang at his sweet words. Steven was quite a master of compliments; but not a shameless flirt or a rake. What he said always came from heart; that beautiful, beautiful heart he had sworn belonged to her and never made her question it despite their situation.
“As you wish, good sir,” she whispered, fingertips sliding down his cheekbone, repairing the darkening bruising in their wake, before she turned focus on her own transformation. “Close your eyes, love, release me for just a moment.”
With a sigh of disappointment – but eager to oblige – Steven lifted his hands an inch, missing the lovely heat under his touch at once, and let his eyes slide close. Soft light caressed his skin, flickering behind his closed eyelids as her features shifted, her cloaking spell dispersing.
Steven did not fight the smile tugging at his lips as he allowed himself to open his eyes again just as the glow was dying out, welcomed by the sight of his beloved in her true face. The spell she had casted changed her features but a bit, only enough to protect her from those who would still hunt her upon mere suspicion of her being a magical creature. She appeared just as human as before; but should a half-wit still nursing grudges against magic even century and half since its dark side caused people to suffer ever recognize her as anything else… Steven did not wish to imagine what hell would have been raised; even as it would have been one he would fight to death against.
Indeed, she appeared human even in her true form to most, Steven assumed. Yet, to him, she appeared almost ethereal; she always had. From the very moment she had walked into his life and took his world by gentle storm, slowly nursing him back to health day by day from multiple wounds which would have been his doom. She had risked her own life in process, revealing her talents to anyone, let alone a knight of Starkerbürg, but for a good deed, she had barely even hesitated.
Beautiful, powerful, brave and endlessly kind; and now, by the blessing of gods, even as Steven failed to be a proper gentleman, his.
He let his fingers slide into her hair, tilting her face up to feast his eyes on her features, heart humming pleasantly as only a person who owned it could make it hum.
It was clearer than the skies that she felt just the same. Drawing him close, not waiting for his prompting, she rose to her tiptoes and brushed his lips with hers, sweet and healing. No cut was there for her to fix, but it appeared that whenever she kissed him, even with no magic involved as she had claimed, Steven’s often weary soul was lifted.
He followed her lips, earning a hearty chuckle but no protest, a hand on his nape as her fingers curled in his hair as well.
“Bosorka moja,” he said softly against her lips before tasting them again, greedy for every stolen moment, every stolen kiss she was willing to give him.
And she would give him a lifetime, much like he would give his own to her.
But there was not a single reason to do it right where they stood. One more peck to his lips and she escaped his arms sneakily, only to grab at his hand with both of hers, tugging him down the now familiar path.
“Come, rytier moj.”
And so he followed her, without a word of protest. He would follow his heart anywhere.
Their destination was by no means far, they were in no rush. Unbeknownst to Sir Barnes, his thoughts had been precisely on point – the pair of lovers cherished every moment spent together, may it be walking with purpose or wandering.
This day, they chose the former, the hut soon appearing in a barely-there clearing among the trees. Steve’s lips curled in a smile on instinct as despite the humble outside state of the tiny house, he knew what he would find upon entering with his love and lover by his side. A home. Not only hers; theirs. A safe space for their love.
As soon as they entered, the air smelling of herbs and dried meadow flowers, ones he had picked and gifted her the last time he had escaped his knight-bound duties, hit his nostrils and widened his smile. It was met with her own, soft and welcoming, heartbreakingly beautiful; ache echoed in his heart, its emptiness present for the past few days without her suddenly dissolving into nothing.
He brought her hand to his lips, a gentle kiss to her knuckles before releasing her, so they could begin their routine.
From the mountains
Wind, dust and defiance is rising
I lay your armour to your feet
Don’t let my skin get cold at night
Wind from the mountains
Wind, dust and defiance is rising
I lay my armour to your feet
Don’t let my skin get cold at night
You made your way to the pot, a simple curl of your wrist lighting up a fire to heat the water for tea. Steven’s gaze followed you as he stood by the door, blindly unclasping his belt, putting away his sword and chainmail. He had no need for weapons nor armour in his home; vulnerability in this house was no sign of weakness, but one of strength. It was a privilege he took upon proudly as you were blissfully aware.
Then, you ruminated through your dried herbs in search of chamomile and lavender, even as you knew the exact placement of every single item; once you heard Steven lose his armour and step forward, you looked over your shoulder, offering an unassuming smile – despite assuming quite a lot from the many encounters you had shared before.
“Tea, my love?”
Like clockwork, like the most beautiful habit, you barely got the chance to speak the question before he stood behind you, fingers cradling your chin, angling your head further to meet your lips again, an indulgent smile tasting indulgent smile as neither of you ever believed a tea was to be served. Not yet at least.
Where your first shared kiss after days of being apart tasted of longing, relief and soft smiles, this one tasted of feelings much more primal. Your breath hitched in the briefest surprise at the intensity, yet you responded in earnest, shifting to accommodate his large body, your hands finding purchase of his broad shoulders as soon as you spun around. He rewarded your cooperation with enthusiasm; you yielded to his force with a breathy laugh once he allowed you to retrieve the air he so lovingly stole from your lungs.
“No tea then?”
A hand previously grasping at your hips wrapped around your back to pull you to his chest, three steps leading you to walk backwards until your back brushed the makeshift table, Steven’s lips as urgent as sweet, his beard scratching at your sensitive skin, each breath tickling your lips.
“Would rather drink from your lips, love,” he whispered to your mouth, the only chance for both of you to breathe in before his lips returned. His hold tightened to ground you against his advances, trapping you in a cage of love you could have easily escaped should you wish; yet, you only withdrew for a moment, a cheeky retort on your tongue as your need for him grew with every touch.
“That could be arranged, I believe.”
Glancing up, you were met with his darkened eyes, his hand firm as he held onto your jaw; and yet, his thumb caressed your skin gently, the desire blending into softness and amusement at your bold demeanour. You lifted one corner of your lips in a smirk, gasping when his mouth possessed yours again, teeth tugging at your lower lip, his arm still holding onto your waist – the only thing keeping you from practically laying on the table, his hips pining yours against the hard surface, fingers squeezing your flesh.
Now there was a thought; Steve’s weight rendering you weightless as he’d coax peak after peak from your body laid on the dark wood as an offering to Gods at an altar…
The very thought, however, was fast to dissolve as Steven’s hips rocked into yours, allowing you to feel the outline of his burning need, having you clutch at his shirt as friction teased your throbbing core. He swallowed the needy noise he elicited from your lips, fingers slipping under your shirt, thumb pressing into your skin just above your hipbone as to guide your movements.
You shuddered upon his lips travelling down the column of your throat, teeth grazing skin alongside the hem of your shirt above your collarbone; your hands began their own quest over the hard planes of his body, appreciative of his truly impressive physique. Steven’s fingers roamed as well, caressing and squeezing, your given name but a breathy whisper when his fingertips stroked the underside of your breasts.
You nearly missed his words due to the blissful sensation, but you had heard the silent plea spoken so many times before there was no mistaking it.
“Dance for me, my love?”
Your swollen lips curled in a playful smile as his fingers carded through your hair, kiss brushing your cheek and jaw and finally your mouth again.
“Oh? Is that what you wish for, lover mine?”
His gaze followed the patterns his fingertips whispered over your face as if they were brushes painting the most precious canvas, a curious contradiction to his eager kisses and hardness.
“Would you hold it against me?” he inquired in a hushed voice, stealing yet another kiss from your waiting lips, his nose gently caressing yours before his gaze bore into yours with intensity again, “that I wish to see something so beautiful and so alive after a battle?”
The amusement slipped from your face, features softening as your heart sored at the subtle confession. The knights of Starkerbürg were full of jest and gestures so great they might border on insanity when situation allowed it. Their bravery was a thing of legends, as much of a legend as the thing you knew they had gone to fight days ago and were only now returning, having bested a mythical creature much more vicious and deadly than yourself, crushing life with not more than one bite to a man’s flesh.
Yet, for all their heroism, even knights, even the most precious of them all – even your Steven – felt the disarming fear of death itself, cruel and all too powerful. You would be always be more than willing to remind him of the power of life for a change, until you’d release yours with your last breath.
Ad so the answer was no – no, you would not hold it against him, whatever he would ask. Never him.
Standing on your tiptoes, framing his face with your hands, his whiskers and already messy hair ticking your palms, you told him as much, sealing your deal with a kiss.
Easing his grip, he allowed you to push against chest, easily giving in as you lead him to walk backwards until his calves hit the frame of your bed. He sat down obediently and you leaned into him, stealing another brief peck.
“Please, bosorka moja,” he pleaded once more as your forehead touched his, taking a moment to breathe him in, reminding yourself that both you indeed were still alive; and thus, such victory should be celebrated with joys life itself provided. “Dance for me, my love.”
Smiling, you placed a finger over his lips to shush him at last, gliding several steps back, mischief appearing in your eyes as his own followed your every movement hungrily, more so when you slipped out of your shawl, the shirt far from brushing the waist of the skirt suddenly hanging low on your hips, providing Steve with a silver of skin of your stomach.
There was no music but the howl of the wind carrying the occasional note by chaffinches and dunnocks and rustles of leaves. Yet, an old old melody echoed in your heart, guiding your movements and filling you with power and confidence of all witches that came before you and enchanted men into giving away their kingdom without as much as a fleeting thought, surrendering their strength and their hearts, all that only to be blessed with a single sinful glance, a single touch of magic as old as humanity itself. For a single drop of passion.
You could feel it fill the air, the longing and thirst for life and body, your lover’s eyes turning dark, hypnotized by the simple swirls of your wrists above your head, at your sides, following every slide of the back of your hands over your ribs, over your bare skin, his visceral need to replace your touch with his own. Drinking in but the smallest motions of your hips, breath hitching at the briefest tilt of your head back or to side, his lips tingling to attach themselves to the exposed skin of your throat, to taste, to suck a bruise. The force with which his fists curled into themselves seemed to ignite sparkles in the air, bringing a sensual smile to your lips as you let your eyes slip shut, feeling the energy hum louder when you moved closer; a sweet thunder within you, within Steve, all around you.
The thud of Steve’s knees on the floor came with his hands grasping your hips; needy but not firm, only to feel the slow movements of your hips and allow you to continue swinging freely. You released a breath, head tipping backwards as Steve’s hot lips found the now burning skin of your stomach, nosing his way up an inch at a time, beard tickling, an open-mouthed kiss following and causing you to shudder – with pleasure, with overwhelming power.
“Steven-“
“Keep dancing, bosorka moja,” he hummed into your skin with a pleased smile, teeth grazing over your belly button as if to distract you from his rough but deft fingers slipping under the waist on your skirt, inching it lower and lower until it hit the floor. Cold air brushed over your bare core, Steven’s lips trailing to the junction of your thigh, his smile growing wicked. “I shall help you dance.”
The very first flicker of his tongue over your pearl had you stutter in your movements, a whimper leaving your lips as Steven’s fingers dug deep into your flesh of your sides and thighs, a wordless warning not to cease the dance he had pleaded for. With a shudder of a breath, you willed yourself to continue, naturally rocking onto his hot tongue as it swept over your weeping core with indulgence, stars flashing behind your closed eyelids at the contrast of the slick muscle to the scrapes his beard left behind.
“Steven-“
“Shhh,” your lover whispered, the sound gentle and teasing at once, the pleasant vibration against your sensitive flesh causing your fingers to find way into his hair and grip, only earning another appreciative hum. “Keep dancing, love.”
And so you did. Leaning into the affection so willingly offered, you succumbed to a different kind of dance. Fingers flexing in Steven’s hair upon a particularly smart swirl of his tongue, breathless praise, calls to Gods and desperate pleas for more more more spilling from your lips. Meeting his ministrations without shame; guiding him, opening up for him as the liquid fire of pleasure spread through your veins, turning into an inferno when you found your thigh on his shoulder, completely out of your doing, an instinct to chase relief – but thoroughly appreciated as Steven’s arm circled your bottom, pulling you impossibly close and loving you deep enough to set you on fire entirely.
You let the primal hunger consume you as you climbed to your peak, crying out when you reached it, head spinning from the intensity; waves of bliss washed over you, body pliant and relaxed. You shrieked when you suddenly found yourself losing your footing, for a brief moment frustratingly empty and cold; and then you were spread on the table, your lover’s lips wrapped around your bundle of nerves, burning blue gaze swallowed by lust firmly set on your face as two thick fingers entered you, latching onto the last aftershocks of your peak. You reached a second high with dizzying speed, unable to tear your gaze away from your giving – and so, so wicked – lover. Gods could possess you at that moment and you would have not felt as if you ascended to such heights as you had while indulging on Earthly pleasures with him.
A soft trail of kisses and pets soothed you as you came down, a breathless chuckle bleeding into a sob when you noticed few of your possessions floating in the air, your magic quite literally having exploded outside of you.
Steven’s lips curled into a smile against your jaw and then you were tasting your essence – as well his much-satisfied grin – on your tongue, revelling in the warm weight of his body covering yours. It seemed your Steven had a few magic tricks up his sleeve too, mind-reading being one of them. You smiled into the kiss, using your grip on his hair to pull him even closer. He could never be close enough; and as he stood between your spread legs, his hard bulge brushing against your bare core, his lips and hands eager, you were certain he felt just the same.
“So beautiful for me,” he whispered to your mouth before retreating, darkened eyes sparkling with lust and pride as well as affection.
“And yours,” you hummed, fingers raking through his beard appreciatively, chuckling when fresh hunger flashed in his pupils. Oh how possessive your knight could be… how much joy it brought you to tease him. “Should I show you?”
A breathy yes was your only answer and so you gripped his shirt, using the fabric for leverage to you sit up. You kissed him again, hands sliding under his garments, gliding over his stomach, your magic flowing freely and healing whichever injuries you had missed earlier.
Easily ridding him of his shirt and pants in between sweet encounters of lips and shedding your clothes as well, you wrapped your legs around his waist, a faint whisper of ‘bed’ enough to have him pick you up without protest; on contrary, with quite the enthusiasm since his hardness throbbed when you led him to sit down with you in his lap.
“Missed you… love you… need you,” you confessed, his breathy voice echoing your sentiments as your lips brushed over every patch of his skin in reach, fingers wrapping around him and guiding him inside you, bliss surrounding you both when you finally sank yourself down his length in one fluid movement.
You rested your forehead against his and simply breathed, living in the moment of utter bliss; a different kind, not the almost primitive one, no, not the wild one. This moment belonged to serenity. Sharing air and warmth with your lover, tender hands appreciating the wide planes of his muscles, strength radiating from flesh and soul alike. And love. Always love.
As if he was able to read your mind once more, his lips sought out yours, a declaration of love indeed, simple, honest and unyielding. His thumb gently traced the pattern of your tattoo, its ink reaching from behind your ear over the side on your neck, a swirl over your left collarbone and spreading over your shoulder. I love you as you are, for all you are, his touch whispered even as no sound left his lips. And even if you felt no shame for your nature, your Steven’s acceptance caressed your soul as did his diligence; not once he had forgotten his ritual of reminding you that with him, your existence was not merely tolerated – but adored and celebrated. When you first understood the significance of this habit of his, tears had stung your eyes, kissed away before they could roll down your cheeks.
“Ľúbim ťa,” you had breathed out then, a love confession in the old language, and ever since, you had not failed to say it once in response to his gesture.
Then, rough fingertips carefully followed the line of a fine silver chain carrying a tear-shaped indigo sapphire, a token of affection usually hidden from plain sight, protected; a promise of faithfulness even as you remained unwed. You had no need for gemstones, but you understood its importance, the significance of the gesture; it made for your heart warm and safe upon its possession and for Steven’s heart lighter a pound of the burden of your circumstance.
Your circumstance was not one of the simple ones, a forbidden love one might say; in which you were the only forbidden thing. Forbidden to even live, let alone love or be loved; an abomination to some. A magic wielder, no doubt seducing the most honourable with her dark powers, for what other reason could be there for him to take liking in you? It mattered not that there was less than a little true to it, that your bond was of much purer nature, as common and as human as the blood you drew from your own veins to cast protection spells over your beloved. True did not matter. Should you reveal your relationship now, Steven would have been painted a victim; and you would have lived no more.
An easy circumstance yours was not at all; but your dedication to each other was to conquer all troubles. And in the meantime, you shall have moments of serenity and of passion, of you and him.
The smallest shift of Steven’s hand pulled from your thoughts, breath hitching when his fingers slid an inch lower, brushing over your nipple. Your hips buckled on instinct, drawing a groan from your lover’s lips, a grip on your bottom encouraging you to move.
Who were you to deny pleasure to you both?
Smiling, you withdrew, index finger covering Steve’s lips as he tried to follow, a discontent furrow to his brow. You tilted your head, thumb brushing over his swollen lips.
“Would you like me to dance still, lover mine?” you inquired teasingly, his disapproval at your actions wiped away in an instant, replaced by fire in his eyes.
Gentle flames of affection battled those of desire, his warm palm caressing over your lower cheeks, before he snapped you impossibly close, causing you to gasp – and to question who it was who had the upper hand here. Your hand fell to his chest, his heart beating wildly under your palm, an answer of its own.
Both then. It seemed you were both on top and simultaneously under the other’s thumb. Such a beautiful thing.
“Would you, bosorka moja?”
Your smile grew, lips attaching to his once more and planning to remain for as long as possible, first careful rock of your hips the first step to reach for the stars – together this time.
“Oh Steven… for my honourable knight? For you, my love? With pleasure…”
An absent smile played on Steve’s lips, his fingers running up and down your arm, appreciating the softness and warmth of your skin. An air of comfort and contentedness hovered around you as he held you close, fast asleep in his arms, cheek pressed to his chest as if the very sound of his heart against your ear lulled you to peaceful slumber.
Despite the sweetness of the idea, Steve felt his brows furrow in concern. While as he was perfectly happy to serve as a pillow for his beautiful lover, aware there was barely any greater expression of trust than a shared sleep, worry seized him for this occurrence was beyond rare. He once asked whether your incredible magic was an effortless as you made it seem, met with a weary chuckle and a kind, if a little condescending smile and a confession that if seen weak, your kind would have been an easy prey. Having understood he had taken your answer as a testimony to the lack of trust you had laid in him, you had also admitted that while the teachings of your ancestors had been deeply ingrained in your instincts, part of your reluctance to show your weakness to him was precisely what weighted his conscience just now. You simply could not be bothered to make him fret too much.
The fact you had let sleep take you alone was truly worrisome and Steve pondered just how exhausted you must have been. Even as the fresh memory of your breathless pleas for more and the cries of pleasure as you rode him till you both tasted heaven were nothing short of precious to him, he could not but wonder whether he was taking too much; your magic healing his wounds, your body a sanctuary to his love and fears.
Perhaps he had. But who could ever blame him?
Steven had never known a woman like this – unafraid to give, just as unshy to take; one or the other, but never like this. He had fallen for you and had fallen hard, body and soul. Yes, should anyone call him selfish, they would not be wrong, because Gods, did he take what he craved and lusted – and yet. Yet, every moment with you felt ethereally right as your still unconscious form drifted closer, almost as if you sensed his thoughts and wished for them to evaporate. And so far, they always had, dissolved in your easy smile when you refused his offer and plea to come with him; to bring you to the castle with him so he could give as well, give more, provide and protect and worship you in his home, your new home, true home where you would not have to hide in the middle of the woods like some sort of an abomination.
It is not the time yet, my love. It will come, you would always say, washing away his guilt with a sweet kiss and a promise. One day. One day I shall come with you and we should be unabashedly happy with no fear, free to be you and me.
He had let your words and touch sooth him, always; but not today. Your body having melted into his had his protective instinct flare up, determination set in his very heart. He should convince you today, to make you his and him yours as two people in love deserved. He shall make an honest woman of you in the eyes of the whole kingdom at last. It was what you were worthy of, for you were worthy of anything and everything. And with you… he believed he deserved the same. He could not stand it anymore. Parting ways with you, only to hope for your next stolen moment to come the very minute after he had left. He could no longer bear you existing so close and yet so far out of his reach.
No, he shall convince you today, insist more than ever. He wanted this, he wished for nothing more than to lay to sleep like this every night, with you. You deserved it. You deserved the world and he shall lay it to your feet, for his honour and his benefit at once.
Any other day, you would have berated yourself for having fallen asleep; but knowing the changes your body was going through, weariness settling in sooner than it used to, it only brought a smile to your face when you found yourself waking to Steven’s tender fingers carding through your hair.
The night was slowly falling. Wandering the woods in darkness would have been an unnecessary risk for anyone, even for a skilled knight with your protective spell over him; your lover was more than aware of it and still, you could tell it pained him to bring you out of your slumber nevertheless. It was no feat to kiss his guilt away, smiles adorning your faces, noses caressing, hands wandering, nearly leading you back into the clutches of lust.
He sat patiently on your bed now, half dressed as you took your blade, his eyes following your every move with more attention than ever as he absently sipped chamomile tea; he found himself deep in thought, such was obvious. It was not difficult to guess where his mind had trailed off to, for it had always been the same.
His voice was soft when he spoke the words, a soft wrinkle on his forehead as your cut your finger and stood between his spread legs.
“Come with me.”
A sad smile played in the corner of your lips as your heart fluttered at his plea, one he never failed to deliver, even as your sigh must have sounded weary every time.
“I cannot. Not yet.”
Steven was no half-wit, which was more than could said about many of the people of Starkerbürg. He knew precisely why you could not come; why you never could, at least not yet. Magic was still forbidden – as if it was a choice, as if one could choose to stop breathing and still live – hated for the pain and destruction the dark twisted witches and sorcerers had once left in their wake, misusing magic to spread fear and suffering. It was not just that all magic wielders were still paying the price for what their ancestors had done. It was even less just that you, not having done any harm unless you needed to escape imminent danger to your life, should live a hermit life, too far from your love and lover. Yet it was how times were, still.
But you were no fool either. You could feel Steven’s uneasiness growing heavier every time he left without you, for it went against his very nature, against the need to keep you close, to hold you, to love – to protect you from harm. You had no doubt he would lay his life for you. You could not allow him to do that, not when the time was finally growing near for your love to be cherished as any other, time for your kind to be free. You must not lose him to rushed foolishness. He was no longer only yours to lose.
“I would protect you,” he promised, steely conviction in his husky voice.
As sweet as the sentiment was, you could not but smirk, a knowing gaze reminding him that should the situation require it, you could very well protect yourself, even as your true gift – the one special talent every magic wielder had, naturally developed with barely any practice – was of the healing kind. Should you truly wished, you could burn villages with terrifying ease; gods knew sorcerers and sorceresses had done this and more with a single snap of their fingers.
Steve took no offence in your teasing gaze; but the determination in his own remained unshaken as you begun to draw the protective symbol over his sternum.
“The time is yet come for people to understand the blessings of magic again, for its light to outshine the darkness it had sowed,” you reasoned, as much as it pained you. “The time shall come soon, I promise. It is simply not today, my love.”
Long fingers circled your wrist, gentle but firm, having you cease your movement, your gaze meeting the brilliant blue roaming over your face.
“I miss you. All days, all nights. I-“ he paused, licking his lips, a shadow of hurt passing over his face. “Don’t you?”
Your heart soared, a sigh leaving your lips. Steven was not easy on you today; but your conviction and determination was just as strong as his. You had to be brave and so did he. A few days longer, that would be all you needed. The right time would come. You were certain of it, even as it was nothing but a whisper of intuition in the back of your mind. Wait, the voice said, the time grows near, but you must wait.
“Do not do this, rytier moj,” you scolded Steven, letting gentleness seep into your voice. “It does not suit you. You must know I love you. I miss you too. And I worry. All days. All nights. Therefore…”
You wiggled your fingers, Steven’s shoulders sagging as he released you, an exasperated pout to his lips – unjustly adorable – as you resumed your work. You smiled widely despite your unnerving circumstance; he would give you anything and everything. The knowledge of this, having been reminded by every little gesture, every word he spoke, made for the warmest feeling in your soul.
Content with your handiwork as you drew the last spiral, you had to swallow a chuckle when Steven’s brows furrowed in confusion, head bowing, eyes flickering over the unfamiliar pattern. A triskele instead of a simple two-headed spiral. A symbol speaking more words than your knight could ever imagine in his wildest dreams, you supposed.
“It’s different.”
Shrugging, you withdrew your hand, calling to your magic to finish the ritual.
“You always draw two spirals connected…” Steve continued, eyes growing large and curious.
“I do”, you agreed softly.
He observed you, intrigued. He had once said he might not understand your power, but he swore he would always try. He would not dare to question your rituals, but you could almost feel how fast his thoughts whirled in a frantic search for an answer. The ritual had remained the same, always, countless times, over and over… why would you steer from it today of all days? What was its significance? What had changed?
Oh Steven. Your sweet, sweet Steven… if he only knew.
“You always say it is about love. The unity of us. You and me,” he said slowly and you nodded, unable to contain your joy any longer, eyes surely glimmering.
“Yes. Our love, you and me. Unity of two.”
His eyes, roaming your face in silent question still, suddenly widened, flickering down and snapping back up as the realization dawned on him, leaving his lips slightly parted.
You simply shrugged, a chuckle shaking your chest, while guilt already began to gnaw at your conscience. You should have not told him, not yet. But how could you have kept it for yourself? How could you have denied yourself a little indulgence, even when knowing nothing could change just yet? You simply wished to see him learn your sweet secret, yours and his, even if for a moment, see he was equally elated.
Your knight did not disappoint you, not that you believed he ever could. His face was a perfect blend of shock and delight, radiating joy and hope and shame and sadness in equal amount as he stammered, shaky hand reaching out to carefully brush his fingers over your belly showing no signs of the treasure growing inside yet.
“You- are you—are we? Oh gods-“ And then, as you predicted, his expression shifted in an instant, determination taking deep root. “Then you must come with me. Allow me to take care of you, to-“
Satisfied and aching at once, you promptly shushed him with your still bloody finger to his lips. A single tear rolled down your cheek; a testimony to happiness, reassured anew of your lover’s goodness and dedication to you. To your family. The wonder, the glimmer of hope and the conviction in Steven’s expression would stay with you till you could grant him his wish.
“The time has not yet come, my love. I share your joy. And your worry,” you whispered through the tightness of your throat, even as a smile adorned your lips. Your finger drew a small cross over his mouth despite the pain it caused you. You had had your moment – and that had to be enough for now. “I am sorry, rytier moj. But you shall not remember this, not yet.”
Before he could as much as take a breath, you withdrew your hand, the symbols on his chest and lips disappearing with a soft glow. Disoriented, your knight blinked, steadying himself by the hand on your hip even as he remained seated.
With a shaky inhale you composed yourself before he could, leaning forward and planting a tender kiss on his lips, fingers raking through his hair. His hand cradled your jaw, adoring.
“Be careful,” you spoke against his lips, earning another small peck.
“Always.”
You retreated with a huff, shaking your head as you went to find an ointment you knew his friend would soon need.
“You speak as if I did not know you, Steven. A basilisk chimera’s teeth three inches from your throat, I heard? Careful indeed.”
His smile was sheepish as he rose to his full height, tying the top of his shirt before reaching for the garments you had so hastily rid him of earlier.
“I always try. The idea that should I fail, I shall never see you again… it can be quite a motivation,” he sweet-talked, succeeding just a bit in softening your exasperation.
Perhaps the vision of him dutifully putting on his armour, making his frame appear even larger – and protected – calmed you further.
“Well, Steven, try harder,” you snipped, pressing a tiny pot into his hand, earning a raised brow. “And take this to Peter, the wound on his leg was already turning foul. And this…”
You reached for a salve you had prepared for when a wave of nausea had taken you by surprise, dipped your finger in the dark substance and carefully patted it over Steven’s brow where his cut had been. You did not expect Steven to feel nauseous – after all he was not the one carrying a new life under his heart – but the colour was convenient. A cut healing so rapidly would have casted a dangerous suspicion on whoever he had interacted with – or worse, on Steven himself. You could not have that.
He observed you softly as you tended to him, adding a small tap where a bruise had begun to form earlier on his cheekbone. He did not utter a word until you were satisfied with your work. Once your hands fell to your sides, his own framed your face, pressing a kiss to your forehead, your nose and finally your mouth again, a bittersweet goodbye.
“Always so meticulous and careful… always so good. Taking care of me, of my friends…” he mused, breathing you in one last time, hovering, hesitating more than usual. Almost, almost as if your spell had not worked and he still knew. As if he still knew precisely what he was leaving behind this time. “Take care of the person most precious to me too? Until I come back again?”
There might be two of those for you now, you thought, the memory of his delight flashing in your mind, bringing a smile to your lips as you nuzzled into his touch and kissed his palm.
Looking up at his face, you echoed his own reassurance. “Always.”
With one last kiss and hearts as heavy as light, you declared your love to each other. You walked him out quietly, watching him disappear between the trees, his gaze turning to you several times, always finding you standing at the doorstep of his true home, a tender smile on your lips.
Once he was out of sight, you released a sigh, hand settling over your belly, a tear stinging in your eye despite the corners of your lips having been turn upwards.
Yes. The time was yet to come for the people to see again the blessings of magic. For now… the blessing of love already bloomed and it was enough.
Očaruj mě (a fic with the same pairing in the same universe)
S.R. masterlist - contains other knight!Steve fics, independent of this one
Complete masterlist
Yes, I’m mixing symbols, I know… do I care? Nope.
Terms of endearment/addressing used from Slovak language:
bosorka moja = witch mine
rytier môj = knight mine
ľubim ťa = I love you
Thank you for reading!💕 I wrote it in between really difficult exams in the ocourse of two months and it needed a LOT of editing afterwards too, so... feedback is, as always, appreciated 🥰
#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers fluff#knight steve rogers#knight steve rogers x reader#knight steve rogers x you#knight steve rogers imagine#medieval au#fantasy au#fairy tale au#lemons#pomiluj me#anika ann
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Growing pains
Summary: How did Jeff and Rio feel knowing Miles was sneaking out with a girl?
Jeff's rant became background noise as she lifted the sweater in confusion.
It wasn't Miles, not just because it wasn't his size (she had needed to buy so many new clothes with his growth spur that she would know) but it was...feminine, she could even smell faintly some perfume.
Whoever left it was using it recently.
"-Babe are you backing me up in this one or what?"
Rio snapped back to reality as she felt her husband's hand on her shoulder, he looked at her still kind of upset yet more curious as to why she hasn't moved from that spot.
"Jeff, where is this from?" She asks immediately, not paying attention to whatever he has been insisting on her.
Arching an eyebrow, he didn't look too much into the item before shrugging with disinterest "I don't know, I normally let him choose whatever he wants as long as the price is okay; a better question is why his room is such a mess, maybe we should ground him an extra month for that-"
"Jeff" She called him again, trying to distract him from his authoritative-dad ideas "This isn't his, it has to belong to a girl."
The moment the word 'girl' came out of her mouth he seemed even more puzzled. Giving an actual look at the item from his wife's hands, he was trying to remember if he has seen it before "Does it belong to one of your nieces maybe?"
"I didn't remember seeing any of them using this, why it would be here anyways? We let the guest put their coats in the entrance, and I don't think either Ana or Camila would just leave this in Miles's bed for no reason."
As they both realized they couldn't recall anyone who could have this sweater, finally the other possible explanation popped into their minds. Not because it wasn't obvious, but more like-
"Is this happening now? It isn't too soon?"
"No, no no no, no way that boy brought a girl to our house, to his room, all while he is grounded." Just as quickly, Jeff was getting worked out again about this outrage.
Miles comes late (again,) with cakes that are falling apart, refuses to talk to them, and now he is hearing how he left his room to be with a girl?
Rio couldn't believe it either.
"This can't be right- He is too young to think of that!" She replied in disbelief.
She felt her husband's gaze rest on her as she stopped looking at the item (who could belong to? Maybe one of Miles's old friends from the neighborhood? As far she knew he stopped hanging out with everyone around here,) and saw the face Jeff always puts when he isn't sure how to tell her something.
"What?"
And her snappier response didn't seem to make him more confident about saying it.
"I mean- Look, don't get me wrong, we are both on the same side here" He prefaces, he needed to reserve all his energy to think how to get to that boy's skull that he couldn't do whatever he wanted, not to mention that when Rio got angry even he got scared. "But, he is fifteen honey."
"Yeah! A baby!"
"Well, not so baby, I mean at his age I was-"
The pointed look of Rio was all the information he needed to know he SHOULDN'T end that sentence.
"What I am trying to say, is that he is getting to a certain age mi amor, we cannot stop that."
Rio's shoulders fell, realizing how tense she was getting and this wasn't even going into how disobedient her son has been getting lately. As she looked towards the room (which was indeed a mess,) she saw the toys laying around, notebooks of old drawings pilled over the new ones that show his progress, she could almost see him as a toddler running around with a cape.
That felt like it was yesterday.
And now she had the sweater of a girl she doesn't know in her hands, in Miles' room.
Where did her little boy go?
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Since the Wip poll won, I decided to post this little thing that was actually, my first fic for this fandom.
I never got to publish it because it was missing two other scenes, but I decided to scrap it since the third one felt a bit too crazy, so I would do that idea for another thing.
So now while this is technically not a wip, I decided to publish it since I don't have any works in progress I can give sneak peaks for now.
Thanks for reading!
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AITA for using my moms money to buy games?
The title sounds bad, but I'm not sure how else to word it. This is also going to be a weird one as, in advance, I know the other party isn't an asshole, however I think it's a similar situation im tone and I really need some feedback on this.
I'm 22 and live with my mom and cat. I've lived with her my whole life, and continue to due to disability. My mom has 2 jobs that she mainly works on weekends, and I'm unemployed. Ever since covid it's been incredibly difficult for me to find work because it is still very much a thing despite what people want to believe, and I can't be in contact with random people physically due to immune issues and the chance of getting sick. Online jobs are apparently very hard to find (my mom has tried) and many ask for a payment beforehand. I do however get social security income that pays most of our bills/utilities, and we're also on foodstamps for groceries.
My family has never been well off. I wouldn't call us dirt poor, we've never had to go hungry, and I always had toys to play with/clothes as a kid. But my mom has had to manage funds well and we've never had a lot of money for leisure or frivolous purchases. My mom will buy herself things like some new clothes, a phone charger, roku set, etc smaller things like that when she gets her paycheck but extra expenses such as furniture have to be planned out probably weeks/months ahead of time. We also moved recently and ever since then our budget has been more difficult, the down payment really screwed with my moms expenses.
Because of our situation, I never really had games growing up. I remember we had maybe 3 big family consoles during me and my sisters whole childhood (with like 3-6 games on them each, most of which were guitar hero which my mom and sister loved to play), and I would get a new handheld for myself every few years. I never got to play the new exciting games people were always talking about, and my gaming experience has really been limited to like. Animal crossing, the sims, and cooking mama.
I played a bunch of roms as a kid so that helped, but I was always kinda sad and felt left out that I never got to experience gaming the way other people did. I really wanted to try the "classics" people talked about but didn't have any way to. People (especially as I got into my 20s and started following streamers + nintendo direct for example) would always talk about the New Thing coming out and playing it the day it dropped, all the excitement and community people had around that, but if I really wanted that kind of game, I'd have to wait a few years before getting it and trying it out, and by then no one was playing it anymore anyways.
As time went on things got a little better. Especially because of my moms new jobs, both of which she genuinely loves doing, though it's still work, we have been a bit better off. It's only been recently we started struggling more again.
Recently I've been kind of asking for things from my mom. Mostly it's steam games. I found I've gotten much more into gaming as a hobby as I've gotten older, and I have a long wishlist of games that I really want to get into, but of course have no money to myself. I should also clarify that NONE of these are those big triple A $60 titles, as I still can't ever justify paying something so expensive for one game. So sometimes lately I've been asking my mom "hey, can I get this/these games?" And use her money/card to purchase them. I don't do it constantly, or even super often, but I feel like it's becoming more often and it makes me feel really guilty.
I have done this before, around high school I started asking my mom for certain things I wanted around the house, and usually she had no problem buying them for me. This also wasn't large stuff, nothing ever over $30 and usually only up to $20. But when I'd find something I *really* wanted, especially if it was a time limited thing like merch drops from a favorite content creator, often yarn for my knitting or art supplies I wanted to try, I would ask her.
I've pretty much always felt guilty about this. I would ask for something despite my better judgement, and for the most part my mom would say yes, and that it was okay, whereas I was the one apologizing and asking if it was "really alright". She has told me she has no issues buying things for me as long as I ask her. She says the social security I get is "technichally my money", and that she wants me to be able to use it. (Obviously we don't use the actual ssi to buy random shit, but her giving me spending money is the next best thing).
Every time I've asked my mom for something like this, I've told myself that it would be the last time, that I would get my own job and own money and not mooch on my mom anymore, but both with the stress of chronic illness and depression I never seem to get around to it. I try to do dishes and keep my room clean, take care of the cat etc as ways I can help without working, but for some reason the money really weighs on me. I know that it's really my fault, I haven't even been looking for jobs and I could always take art commissions again, but somehow a mental block always stops me.
I feel like I have a bit of an impulsivity problem when it comes to spending. The money I got from my one summer job and commissions would never last long, and honestly I couldn't even tell you what I spent it on for the weeks I had it. I have issues taking money from people, but when I realized that I may not have had the stuff I wanted as a kid simply because I never asked for/communicated that I wanted it, it made me more bold to actually ask my mom for things.
I never pester my mother about this. I'll ask once and if she says no I'll be dissapointed but won't continue. Sometimes she says that we don't have the money for it then, or that I'll have to wait until xyz thing is paid for, which is always fine. I also have *never* bought anything with her money without asking first. I get pretty much all the steam games I buy on sale (usually that's what prompts me to ask about them, actually) as personally I can't justify getting games for their asking price for the experience I'm going to get.
I feel bad as I feel like I'm wasting our money, mooching off my mom and not putting in the work to have spending money myself. I also worry that sometimes when she says it's fine, it's untrue and she's really just trying to make me feel better. I also sometimes don't play the games as soon as I get them, I have a sizeable backlog of games I have gotten but haven't "got around" to playing as I was excited to get them at a low price at the time, but then haven't felt like I'm in the right mood. This also makes me feel worse because I feel like I'm not being appreciative enough of her buying for me.
So am I the asshole?
What are these acronyms?
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Call me when you're bored
Not sure if the ““““““story”””””” around this actually makes any sense, I just wanted to write this down without overthinking it because I hate rereading the things I write.
TW: mdni!, smut, breath play, slight bondage(?), dom/sub undertones, terrible use of the English language, typos
WC: 1100-ish
You hadn’t realized it at first. Nothing had seemed atypical when he had come over, just the usual quick fuck: as per usual, he gave you a quick call, just to make sure you were in fact home and seven minutes later, no words spoken since he had entered the door, he was fumbling with the buttons of your shirt while kissing you harshly, warm, plumped lips tracing the expanse of your throat. As you soon had learned when you first met him, Matty seemed, at least to the untrained eye, a creature of habit. Truth was, routines worked for him because he wasn’t one to work for routines: fame taught him that minimizing steps between actions and decisions often meant that he got to enjoy his time more. So, at a certain point in his career, he had begun to just do anything he pleased, without asking, on rotation, until everyone was so in sync with his daily antics that he did not have to explain himself or ask for anything. It’s not like anyone was going to get mad at him for it, anyway. He had that kind of boyish grin that made everything justifiable.
You weren’t immune, that’s for sure, or you wouldn’t have left the door ajar, as you always did, when you had heard the screeching of his tires just below your apartment complex; and he, like clockwork, just swung the door open, so sure of himself that you pondered, just for a second, how funny it would be if one day he just crashed on your front door that you ‘’accidentally’’ had left locked.
Becoming his favorite and only booty call was not something you had planned, the switch in your life so imperceptible you barely noticed it happened. At first, it was casual, just a mutual agreement for casual sex, but slowly you had become part of his never ending collection of habits, especially with your flat being exactly in the middle of the path between his place and the studio, making your ‘dates’ a daily occurrence that only required a brief notice on the phone, the convenience of it adjusting perfectly to his manically simple schedule.
And so there you were, standing before your still opened front door, topless and with your pjs shorts barely standing his needy pawing. Your fingers guide his face back on you, back at kissing him with force while his arms envelops you so close to him you almost feel you’re the one about to enter his body, and not the other way around. Quickly, his hands glide down your sides, putting the fabric that’s barely covering your modesty at risk again , coming at the back of your thighs before he finally speaks: ‘Jump’. You obey silently, his bulge brushing on your backside making you whimper like a teen at a school dance grinding on her crush. To be honest, it wasn’t too far fetched from truth, you had grown to like Matty quite a bit, especially when he was looking at you up and down like a predator, still in his white shirt and dress pants (maybe today wasn’t actually a studio day after all), towering over your now completely naked body on the couch.
He lifts one of your ankles in his hand, lowering just enough to stamp a trail of butterfly kisses from your calf to the soft skin between your thigh and your hip bone, letting his curls cover the spectacle of his eyes. He grabs your hips, suddenly turning you on your stomach as he grabs your wrists with one hand, reaching for his discarded tie with the other, the only piece of clothing he freed himself of. He waits a beat for you to stop him, taking your small hum as a sign before he’s tying your arms behind your back, your shoulder blades almost coming to touch.
You then hear his zipper come undone and after a couple of seconds his tip is splitting you open and filling you up to the hilt, not really giving you time to adjust to the delicious sting in your lower abdomen. He starts slowly but he’s soon pounding relentlessly into you, short, quick thrust that knock on your G spot just right every time, moans and calls of his name falling from your mouth with your now melted brain. He brings a hand to your head, shoving you against the cushion harshly and using it as leverage, almost like he wants to shut you up against the pillow, the new angle bringing him deeper in your cunt, but not stopping him from following his own pace, fast, barely bottoming out, hips clashing with your ass incessantly.
‘Stop fucking clenching’
The order comes as a surprise. Then, when his hands are instead pushing on your shoulders to keep you down and firm against the plushness of the sofa, it finally hits you: he’s fucking you like he would his fleshlight. On your request, he had sent you a video while he was on tour, the rhythm of his hips in your memory matching perfectly the one he was now keeping. He knew you liked seeing him using that toy, and he now wanted you pliant and still like the object had been. You actually had asked for it, to be used like that, but the conversation had taken place so long ago you were kind of embarrassed to bring that up again.
No eye contact, no moans, no movements of any sort, just your perfectly still body: it all made sense and you couldn’t bring yourself to find it even slightly less hot. You try to muffle something to him, adding to the fire within him, his hand coming to shut your mouth and pinching your nose between his pointer finger and his thumb, blocking your airways.
‘If you want to opt out, kick me, if not, keep playing, doll, but don’t you dare fucking cum’
There it was, the final confirmation coming straight from his pet names.
The lack of oxygen was making your head dizzy, heightening the tightness in your stomach and you could feel Matty starting to lose his steady pace.
‘You can cum now baby, did so good for me’ suddenly, the pressure of his body is off you, your constraint feels looser, the air returns your lungs and your orgasm is hitting you, the combination so strong your trembling under Matty, who’s enjoying the scene so much he’s decided to slides out to cum in his fist just to look better at you.
‘That was fucking insane, how did you remember about that clip? It was so long ago.’
And there it was, the most stupidly hot and egocentric grin you’ve ever saw in your life.
‘My doll asks and she shall receive.’
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Siphon
Elias remembered it perfectly; the moment when his sister’s new boyfriend entered into the kitchen with her. It was as if the whole world had stopped; like nothing mattered anymore. It was a feeling unlike any other he had experienced; he could hardly understand why his heart was suddenly racing and why his palms had become so immediately sweaty.
The man had burst passionately into the room, pressing Elias’ sister up against the wall and kissing her; his hands sliding rudely onto her body, as if they were both teenagers again and unable to resist.
“Oh!” Eleanor scowled, seeing that they weren’t alone. “That’s Elias, my twin brother,” she grunted, pointing at their spectator.
“You have a twin brother?” the man shot back in surprise, completely unembarrassed that they had been caught. “You never mentioned you had a brother.” He reached forward with interest and held his strong-looking hand out for Elias to shake. “Hey there! My name is Lincoln,” he beamed with interest.
Elias wasn’t in the least bit surprised that his sister’s new boyfriend didn’t know anything about him. He was well used to that by now. A powerful, magical family producing an entirely non-magical, human son? His entire existence was swept under the carpet as often as possible. The shame! The embarrassment! Still, here was this man who was making him feel so strange, holding out his hand to him, even though the thought of where Lincoln’s hands had recently been definitely repulsed him. He wiped his palms on his pants and took it, feeling an indescribable sense of longing as their skin touched; his heart racing even more. “Nice to meet you,” he garbled. Then he thought harder. “Lincoln?” he mumbled, recognising that handsome face. “Lincoln Larson?” he asked; doubting himself that such a person could be here, standing in front of him; dating his sour-faced sister.
“That’s it!” Lincoln smiled. “You must follow baseball then?”
Elias felt like he had to refocus his eyes. Lincoln Larson was here, with his sister? “Um, yeah. Well. Yes, I do; a bit…” he replied, wondering why he couldn’t string together a full sentence. What was this guy doing to him? He gazed at those dazzling white teeth, the deep, dark brown eyes and the strong jaw. Athletes always seemed to have a certain presence about them. Perhaps it was that amazing, trained and strong physique; the ideal of body perfection; the way that his clothes fitted on that well cared for body; the height, the muscles, the charisma. Fuck! What was going on? He’d never had a crush like this before!
Elias realised that he must have been making a fool of himself, for his sister sighed in a hiss and rolled her eyes. “Come on, Lincoln. Let me show you the garden.”
“Nice to meet you,” Lincoln smiled pleasantly, following Eleanor out of the room and grabbing her rear on the way. Elias caught himself staring at the man’s large, muscular butt and he shook his head, as if to wake himself up. He turned around and slapped his face. What was the matter with him? This whole situation was bizarre. Lincoln might have been one of the most famous up and coming baseball players, but he was still a human. What was his sister doing dating him? Surely a man like Lincoln, no matter how famous or attractive he was, was in some way seen as unworthy of her? Eleanor was, after all, a nasty piece of work; she didn’t have any time or respect for those outside of their coven.
The strangeness continued at dinner. Elias had been sure that his parents would hit the roof when they saw a mortal roaming about the house. Instead, they had seemed completely delighted; turning on the charm and fussing around him as if he was an honourable guest.
“Can I get you some more beer?” their father asked the handsome twenty-three year old. But even when Lincoln said he didn’t want one, he was still brought one anyway.
The two new lovers giggled with delight the entire time. It was obvious that Lincoln was unable to stop himself touching her up under the table; his wandering hands seemingly unable to help themselves. Elias looked around, feeling as if he had slipped into some strange parallel universe, for his mother and father seemed to be grinning away in approval.
“Mother spent ages making this cake for you this afternoon,” Eleanor smiled at her new boyfriend, as the large, creamy cake was brought in. “You’ll have to try a nice big slice.”
“Are you not having any, Elias?” Lincoln asked, looking slightly unnerved at the huge portion he was served up.
“Um, no, not this time,” he replied. Cakes were not exactly his mother’s thing; although she could whip up a mean poison in no time at all.
“Aw, what’s the matter, Elias?” his sister teased him. “Have you put on a bit of weight recently?”
“Oh, get lost, Eleanor!” Elias spat back. The bitch always knew how to touch a nerve and he’d given her exactly what she wanted. Her face lit up like a Christmas tree and her eyes twinkled with delight.
Elias didn’t really know how it had happened. He’d also been so naturally slim, like the rest of the family. He hadn’t changed his diet or exercised less and yet, somehow, he’d packed on over forty pounds in the last three months. He felt the fat, like oozing sludge, settling itself on his stomach and butt. His ass fluttered with blubber when he walked and refused to be contained by almost all of his pants. He could even see it on his face; those puffier cheeks and slight chin that had made him grow his stubble out into a slightly thicker beard, simply to try and hide it.
Lincoln looked on, seeing the tension and jumped in, trying to smooth things over. “You know, if you want to improve your fitness, I can always do some training with you sometime?” he smiled helpfully. “I’ll definitely still be here in the morning,” he smiled passionately at his lover. “Your parents have a nice, big garden. We might as well use it.”
Elias could see his sister about to interject and tell him not to bother; that Elias didn’t even live here with them and that he wasn’t worth the effort; so he jumped in immediately. “That’d be great. Thanks, Lincoln!”
About ten minutes later, it was clear that the young couple were unable to contain themselves anymore. Lincoln made their excuses and chased Eleanor upstairs to her room, practically slamming her door shut.
“What the hell was that?” Elias asked. “How come Eleanor is dating a human? And a famous human at that?”
“I don’t think it’s any of your business, do you?” his mother threw back, as if insulted by the impertinence of the question.
Elias could tell from her response that there was some sort of awful plan playing out; he could spot a love spell a mile off. His sister was in no way hot enough to be dating an athletic god like Lincoln. How would she even have met him in the first place? Whilst Elias might not have any magic himself, he knew the theory better than even his sister who, by all accounts, was a remarkably powerful individual. He suddenly felt incredibly protective of the young athlete, vowing to do his best for him, caught in this web of magic as he clearly now was. So, although Elias only returned home once a week, as requested by his family, he now vowed that he would be making a lot more home-visits. After all, no one else was going to protect Lincoln from whatever dire plan was already starting to play out.
The next morning, the garden workout went well. Lincoln pushed him hard, but he had been nice about it. They’d both worked up a sweat, with the hot athlete taking off his shirt to wipe his face with it. Oh, that body was sexy! It was the first time Elias had felt the stirring in his crotch. His attraction to Lincoln, it wasn’t just some peculiarity; it seemed to be very much physical. Those pecs, those arms, those abs and the large, muscular butt… He could have gazed at him all day long. The man took a long swig of his water, having promised to take Elias on a jog around town. That was, until Eleanor had turned up, waving at him through the window. She was dressed in her silk nightgown and posing provocatively, turning the horny guy’s brains into mush; abandoning Elias within seconds.
“What are YOU doing here again?” asked his sister a few days later. She was dishing out a large bowl of ice cream, clearly ready to take back upstairs with her, where her boyfriend was waiting.
Elias had driven by and seen that Lincoln’s sports car was sat on the drive. “Aren’t I allowed to see my family?” he answered, knowing that it was a poor response. Elias had never liked his family all that much and, with his own lack of power, they hadn’t liked him either. He was the black sheep; the one whose very existence was brushed under the carpet. “Is that for Lincoln?” he asked, glancing at the huge bowl of ice cream. “He might not want it, you know. His team has a very strict diet; especially with the games they’ve got coming up.”
“Lincoln will eat whatever he’s given,” Eleanor spat back impatiently. “Now why don’t you just fuck off to that little cockroach palace of yours? Mom and Dad have guests coming over later and the last thing they want is YOU here to embarrass them.” She grabbed her bowl, as well as a bottle of beer, and started to walk out.
Just then, Lincoln suddenly appeared, dressed only in his boxer shorts and looking just as stunning as he had the other day in the garden. “Babe! I was wondering where you’d got to,” he smiled, not noticing, or not caring that Elias was there as well. A definite hardness was visible through his underwear, and he kissed his girlfriend even with her hands full. “Are you coming back to bed?” he asked keenly.
“I’m just on my way there now,” Eleanor smiled back. “I’ve got you some treats!”
“Thanks, babe,” Lincoln smiled. “But I can’t touch stuff like that at the moment. I’m on strict orders.”
Elias looked at his sister triumphantly, but she simply smirked back at him. “Oh no!” she sighed. “I spent all that time getting this ready for you and you don’t even want to try it…” she cried with theatrical sadness. “Oh, go on, Lincoln. Just have a little bit… for me!”
Lincoln smiled in that love-sick way and took the bowl. “It’s delicious, honey,” he nodded, passing it back to her after a couple of spoonfuls.
Eleanor didn’t take the bowl but put her hand to his wrist. “Then come upstairs with me. Have your ice cream and your beer and stop worrying about work. Just relax! You do not know how to do that, don’t you?” she teased.
Lincoln sighed again, but he smiled sweetly at her. “Alright!” he relented. “I’m always so relaxed when I’m with you! There’s nowhere else in the world I would rather be!”
Elias watched as they went in for a kiss. He couldn’t stand it. “Hey, Lincoln. How about we have another training session next week?” he asked keenly.
Lincoln looked across at him as if he really hadn’t noticed he was there. “Oh, hey buddy!” he smiled, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. “Sure, sure,” he nodded. “I’ll be here on…” he began, raising his eyes up and thinking of his commitments. “I’ll have to let you know. Things are a bit crazy at the moment.”
“I understand,” Elias nodded with a little disappointment, watching as the pair of them disappeared upstairs.
Over the coming weeks, Elias’ heart sank each and every time he saw the news about Lincoln. Despite the busy run of games, he wasn’t playing at all. ‘Injured’ was all the scant information given by the club. He’d missed three really important games. How could that be the case? He was paid an absolute fortune and yet, every time Elias went by his parent’s house, he saw Lincoln’s car in the driveway. He’d popped in a good few times and yet, Eleanor and Lincoln were always upstairs in her bedroom, humping away like rabbits.
“Is everything going well with Lincoln?” Elias asked his mother. “The news keeps on saying he’s off with an injury. Is Eleanor treating him well?”
“He’s human,” his mother replied shortly as she mixed some sort of potion in the kitchen. “They’re fragile little things.”
Elias ground his teeth. What was his mother trying to imply?
“But is he all right?” he pressed.
“Yes, yes! He’s fine! Leave your sister alone!” she shot back irritably.
“Snakeroot, nettle AND poppy!” Elias noted with concern as he watched his mother work. He might not have had any ability with potions, but he knew the theory. “Mother, what are you up to?” he asked suspiciously.
Shooed out of the kitchen, Elias found himself sat back in his car staring up at the house he had grown up in. Something was going on in there; something bad. Every bone in his body was telling him that he needed to discover it. Lincoln’s very life could depend on it.
As Elias expected, Lincoln never did get back to him about training. Thankfully, a lot of the weight he’d put on was slowly starting to go anyway. He’d dropped five pounds this week alone. He’d hoped to see Lincoln when he went round for dinner, but he and Eleanor had remained in her room and Elias’ parents had refused to comment on any questions he’d asked about them. Tonight was different though. Tonight was going to be a celebration. The nominations for the next coven leader had just been announced and Eleanor’s name was one of them. Elias’ jaw dropped when his mother rang him up proudly to tell him. Their little Eleanor, in the running to be the next coven leader! The youngest in two centuries!
The coven his family belonged to was unlike most. It was conservative in the extreme; old fashioned and cut-throat. Being the leader wasn’t just about being the most powerful, wise or knowledgeable. It was about brute strength and mastery over one’s opponents. Eleanor might have been powerful, but she lacked all of the other required skills. Just the fact that her name had been mentioned was the most bizarre thing Elias had ever heard. If she reached the head-to-head stage, she’d lose her head, quite literally. That meant that Elias felt no small amount of guilt as he almost wished his sister away. With her gone, Lincoln would be free of her; and free of whatever wicked spell she had over him.
When Eleanor came down that night, Elias’ jaw almost dropped. He’d never seen his sister looking so fit and strong. She was like some sort of female body-builder. All femininity was stripped from her body and she looked, in all respects, like some sort of warrior. “How have you..?” Elias stuttered in shock, hardly believing what he was seeing. Then he saw Lincoln following along behind her and everything seemed to click into place. “Lincoln?” he gasped.
The handsome athlete looked as if he hadn’t exercised in weeks. A solid looking paunch had appeared on his athletic form, pushing out love handles to his sides, as if the fat was preparing to fully encircle itself around his middle.
“Oh, hey, Elias!” he smiled happily, as if he was completely oblivious. The puffiness to his cheeks was even more apparent up close.
“Eleanor, how could you?” he shouted in alarm, plainly seeing what had happened but still trying to work out what sort of magic could have made it so.
“What?” Eleanor smirked in delight. “You mean the smelly human?” she marvelled triumphantly, turning around and pulling Lincoln into a passionate kiss. She lifted his shirt up so that her hands could roam cheekily across his body as the boy kissed her back with as much love as any man could give. However, Elias knew that his sister was just giving him a look at the fattened paunch Lincoln had developed recently. Gone were the abs, and in their place, a puffy rounded stomach. Her hands turned him around and she squeezed his butt. Elias couldn’t help but look, seeing from that slight touch just how much softer and under-exercised that large athletic rear had become.
Elias stared hatefully at his sister as she came out of the childish display. He could see now that Lincoln really did mean nothing to her. She was using him; using his body to make her own more powerful and strong; ready to take up the challenge of leading the coven.
Throughout dinner, she seemed to taunt Elias with how much control she had over Lincoln, loading up his plate and then bringing him dessert after dessert; insisting that if he truly loved her, he would eat it all without question.
“This is more than a love spell, isn’t it?” Elias asked, having thought for hours over the theory of how this might have been done. “You’ve tethered yourself to him so that your bodies connect. That’s how you’re doing this; stealing from him.”
“Something like that,” his sister smirked in delight. She reached over and rubbed Lincoln’s bloated gut. The guy was so stuffed, he didn’t look like he could take in any of what was being said. “Fattening him speeds up the transference. And he’s such a good little piggy for me,” she cooed, giving Lincoln’s belly a patronising triple pat, even though the boy flinched in discomfort.
“You’re using potions as well, aren’t you?” Elias stated accusingly to their mother. “What you’ve done… This isn’t natural.”
“Oh, we spent many months testing out the best potions,” Eleanor nodded.
“Eleanor!” their mother chuckled warningly, as if to stop her from continuing.
But Eleanor seemed too delighted in herself to stop. “Didn’t you wonder why you got so fat last summer?”
Elias inhaled sharply. Now it all made sense. They’d all done it to him; used him like a guinea pig, ready for the main event! “How could you?” he exclaimed, looking down at the remaining fifteen pounds that still sat stubbornly across his stomach.
“Easy! It was the most fun we’ve all had in years!” Eleanor laughed, and even their mother didn’t deny it, sitting there with a smirk on her face.
“And what about Lincoln?” Elias asked. “You’re connected to him for life. Even if you do become coven leader, you can never marry anyone else.”
Eleanor laughed at the supposed problem Elias had laid out before her. She gazed across at Lincoln, he seemed to be drifting off into a supernaturally induced sleep. “Once I have what I want…” she teased. Then she flicked her finger violently, letting Elias know exactly what would become of Lincoln in time. “Luckily, mom has always been very gifted when it comes to poisons!”
Although Elias had always hated his sister, those feelings of wanting her to die in the coven leadership contest suddenly boiled up inside of him. If she didn’t make it through the challenges, that would be the end of her. And now, that was the only hope poor Lincoln had.
Elias stared at the pictures of Lincoln plastered all over the internet. It had only ever been a matter of time, he realised. He didn’t know how Lincoln was dealing with his management, but the vague excuses for why he wasn’t playing had led to an inevitable curiosity amongst the media. Then, one day, there they were – the pictures that the world took in with shock and horror: Lincoln, relaxing with Eleanor, in what should have been the very private back garden. Elias scratched his head, wondering how the photographer had scaled the high fence in order to get the shot. But however it happened, those images were set to destroy any hope of a comeback. Lincoln’s round little paunch sat atop of his loose fitting sweat pants and the shots of him from behind revealed the mass of his softer butt and budding love handles. There were close ups of his chubbier face and even his previously firm and attractive pecs, now looked softer and puffier, under the scrutiny of the many unflattering articles that were written about him.
Elias held tight and waited. Even by draining Lincoln’s strength, Eleanor didn’t have what it would take to win the fight for coven leadership. It was just a matter of time until Lincoln could be free of her. But that didn’t happen.
Eleanor reached the head-to-head and then, in one sickening phone call, late one evening, Elias’ mother called him to let him know that his sister had indeed won. He didn’t know how to react. All hope of saving Lincoln had just faded away. He threw on his jacket and went out into the cold evening air, trying to walk off his anger.
“Excuse me!” called a polite, but assertive voice behind him. “You’re Elias, aren’t you?”
Elias turned around, looking puzzled and noticing that the woman had clearly been parked outside of his apartment block.
“I’m following the story about Lincoln Larson’s contract termination,” she explained; letting Elias know that she was one of the hordes of journalists who had been camped outside of his family home all week long. “I understand that your sister is dating him?”
With that, she pressed a recorder to Elias’ face. “Yeah,” he shrugged, starting to walk away from her.
“Would you like to offer any comment? You and your sister don’t get along, do you?”
Elias raised his eyebrows. This girl had clearly done her homework. “What else have you learned about my family?” he asked with interest.
With the smirk of a journalist, pleased to have her research validated, the reporter kept the mic up against Elias’ mouth as they continued walking to his car. “I know that they’re strange. They have links with the occult and several missing people's reports point to them, despite a frustrating lack of evidence.”
“Are you going to publish that?” Elias asked, surprised with how sure of herself the girl sounded.
“Do you think it’s credible?” she asked.
Elias stood by his car door, pausing to say only one thing. “Write the story.”
Despite the crowds of journalists outside the house, taking pictures of Lincoln’s car still sitting on the driveway, there was no one at home that night. It was only the next day when Elias received the frostiest and briefest phone call from his mother that he was summoned to the family home once more. He expected that they wanted him to bow before his sister and pay his respects. However, his heart sank when he arrived, seeing all three with the most severe and angry faces he had ever witnessed.
“Look at what you did!” Eleanor cried out; her voice deeper and more masculine than Elias had ever heard it. “You’re trying to expose us!” With that, she threw an array of printed newspaper articles across at Elias; each one more damning and accusatory towards their family’s murderous links. Their source? The very brother of the girl Lincoln Larson was dating.
Panic filled Elias’ voice. “I didn’t…” he lied. “I would never!”
“I should have done this years ago!” Eleanor smiled; her parents positioning themselves behind her, forming a triangle, ready for the curse. “You’re a liability. A filthy waste of space!”
“Please!” Elias begged, knowing what was about to happen. He saw the red consuming his sister’s eyes: the killing curse building inside of her. “Don’t do this, please!”
Those could very well have been Elias’ final words were it not for what happened next. Despite closing his eyes and waiting for the impact, Elias heard a stumbling in front of him. He peeked out, seeing his mother and father catching Eleanor as she fell back; looking like she had been punched hard in the face.
Elias didn’t wait around. With his family distracted, he fled, running down the steps of his family home as fast as his feet would carry him. He heard the clicks of the cameras as he went, racing into his car and speeding away faster than ever before.
It was a odd thing, waiting for death. Elias didn’t know where to go. His family would track him down wherever he went. All he had done was grant himself a few more hours of life. He closed his eyes that night, knowing that he may never open them in the morning, and felt only surprise as he sensed the morning light stream in through the cheap, thin curtains. He stood, taking himself to the shower and suddenly didn’t recognise his reflection in the mirror. Gone wre the fifteen pounds of blubber on Elias’ torso, replaced with rippling stomach muscles. He had pecs, large shoulders and biceps. His forearms were huge and his thighs and butt had become solid and muscular. He gasped, not recognising his own, deep voice. “What the fuck?” he exclaimed to himself, trying to make sense of it all. How had this..? He looked down at his hands, sensing for the first time, the most remarkable power within them. Enough power perhaps, to defend himself. Or better, challenge his sister and finally free Lincoln once and for all. Perhaps this was destiny calling him.
Emboldened, Elias didn’t wait to be ambushed. He strode up the steps to his family home holding his head high. A simple spell had been placed on the door to prevent others from entering, but it was easily overpowered.
“Don’t!” Eleanor screamed, seeing the door swing open; their parents standing strong beside her, holding her up. Her voice was weak and high pitched; her body withered and aged.
Suddenly, seeing their son so altered, Elias’ parents dropped Eleanor to the floor and stood with reverence, gazing upon their boy. Then, for all three of them, it all clicked into place. Elias had always had power. Eleanor, leader of the coven, was dying because she had tried to curse the very person she had been siphoning her power from her entire life. The only power she had ever had was to leach from others; whether she had ever known that or not. Now it was too late.
Abandoned by her parents and presented with the great, immeasurable power of her brother, Eleanor breathed her last whilst looking upon him; her body crumbling into dust that swiled into a violent hurricane around Elias, giving him back every last trace of what he had lost to her over the many years of his life.
The dust settled and Elias finally saw his parents, both of them, down on their knees before him; heads bowed. No one said a word; there was no need to.
“Leave this house,” Elias finally commanded them, resisting the urge to curse the pair of them for what they had tried to do to him only the day before.
Wasting no time, his parents scurried out of the house, leaving Elias alone in the quiet, soulless building.
“Lincoln?” Elias called out hopefully, wondering if they had kept the poor man alive. He crept up the stairs. His family had been right all along; humans really did have a strange smell about them. He opened the door to Eleanor’s bedroom, seeing the naked former athlete gorging himself on an array of foods that had been left out for him. His stomach was so bloated and round, his pecs turned to nothing but fat; eating as if he had been magically compelled to do so. Perhaps it was Eleanor’s last ditch attempt to gain strength from him once again, as she felt her body weakening and dying. Either way, Lincoln was alive.
Sighing with relief, Elias was surprised to find himself stifling the urge to laugh, seeing the human so far out of control. Then Lincoln looked up, his face filling with happiness as he called out Elias’ name. There was love in his eyes and he tried to fumble his way up and onto his feet.
“Jeez! What has my sister done to you?” Elias asked, seeing the blubbery boy coming towards him; the fat in his stomach rippling and jiggling; his nipples bouncing. He knew that Lincoln was his now, in much the same way he had been Eleanor’s. The human was, in a sense, his inheritance, bound using his own magic; although Elias had not known it back then. “I’ve come to rescue you,” he declared, placing his hand on the boy’s chubby rear and pulling him into his muscular body. The sense of ownership he felt was intoxicating. This boy was now his. “Did you miss me?” he asked, puckering his lips for a kiss.
Lincoln fell into the kiss; his sweet, sugary lips and tongue sliding passionately into his new lover. “I want to be with you forever!” he cried, as if sensing the power emanating from Elias’ whole being.
“You will be,” Elias nodded, smiling. “You’re mine now.” He ran his hands over the man’s bulbous love handle. “All mine!”
“You have not been appointed to lead our coven. You may have come from a powerful family, but you have no knowledge of us. What authority do you have to lead us?” spat the first angry challenger. There were four of them, all male, ready and willing to fight Elias to the death if need be.
Elias took a beat, gazing across at the strapping men. Any one of them could indeed lead the coven well. But they were no match for him.
“And yet, here I am!” Elias smiled, hoping to infuriate them. “You all foolishly allowed my late sister to take the power of our coven. Now that power resides within me. I am your leader now, whether you like it or not.”
“I’ll never bow to you!” spat the second of the men, inciting furious nods of agreement from the other three.
“Do you dare to challenge me?” Elias asked, excited to display his power before the whole coven gathered there that night; that was, all but his parents, who had wisely chosen to remain in exile. “Come, step forward. Take what you believe is yours,” he dared the strapping men, offering any one of them a sharp, ceremonial knife.
One angry, hot-headed young guy stepped forwards. “I will kill you, and that digusting, fat human consort,” he nodded towards Lincoln, who stood just behind Elias, dressed only from the waist down for Elias’ own amusement; all that fat hanging from his formerly athletic physiue! The challenger began mumbling a spell, building a giant ball of pure power within his hands.
“Enough!” Elias cried out, raising a single hand and extinguishing the boy’s power in an instant. “On your knees!” he demanded, slamming the man down on all fours with a mere gesture of his arm.
The coven murmured at the display of such authority and even the other three boys backed off slightly. The challenger on the floor gasped, as if trying to push himself upwards against a force that was holding him on all fours.
Elias strolled down towards the man, enjoying the moment. “My sister was a siphon. When she died, that power automatically came to me. One who is powerful enough to see its true potential at long last. She tethered herself to the fat human,” Elias pointed at Lincoln, “despite never actually needing to.” He bent down to his challenger’s ear. “All she ever really had to do was take what she wanted.”
With that, the man began writhing with pain as his power was ripped out his body. Elias closed his eyes, feeling the pleasure of his power growing even more. When he opened his eyes once more, his gaze fell upon Lincoln and his large, bulging belly, full of fat and without a single trace of his former athleticism, now residing within Elias himself. The sight made him laugh aloud; Lincoln looked like nothing more than one of those fat, overgrown and overfed, stinking humans you saw gorging themselves at a fast food joint downtown. He felt his dick getting harder as he remembered exactly what had been done to the boy; what was still being done to him. Then he looked down at his powerless foe, still down on all fours, having surrendered to it.
“I’m sorry I had to do that,” Elias lied, bending over the man and placing a hand soothingly on his strapping back. Even without any power, the guy was still an impressive specimen. “But I won’t be tolerating insubordination now that I am leader of this coven.” He slid his hand down the boy’s long back and slapped him on his muscular rear, sighing with how impressive it felt. Then, with a final titter of laughter, he raised his hand and waved to it. “Bye bye!” he sang, finding a power deep inside of himself that no one in the coven had ever witnessed before.
The handsome guy on the floor suddenly yelled once again; jumping like a great pain had attacked his stomach. The whole room gasped as a great sweat covered his skin, and he panted and grunted, gritting his teeth against the power of the spell he was being placed under. Elias gazed around at the crowds who shuffled nervously, wondering what would be done to him.
It began in the stomach, as the traitor’s t-shirt started to look very snug around his waist. A great bloating seemed to be occurring, which spread itself like a tire around him, bringing softening flesh into his sides. Eventually, the developing mass of this became sufficient enough to pull up the shirt, releasing two doughy-looking love handles that seemed to be expanding by the second.
Elias closed his eyes for a moment and moaned in pleasure as he felt his body getting stronger and stronger. Just like his family had stripped Lincoln of all of his athleticism, Elias was doing the same now, fattening the traitor with extreme speed to increase the pace of the transformation. When he opened his eyes again, he saw for himself how tight the guy’s pants had become around his widening rear. He chuckled, imagining how uncomfortable it must feel with the waistband digging in more and more. That impressively built man was being swallowed by his own fat.
No one from the crowds dared to move or help the fattening boy. Lard was swelling up his face and neck, more and more evident each time he’d lifted his head to wail in pain. The fleshy parts of his body seemed to be expanding more. A pop was heard as the boy’s waistband clearly gave way; the pants still trying to accommodate the increasingly lardy glutes and thighs. Now filled with fat, the stomach seemed to drop, entirely outside of the t-shirt which simply stretched across his softening chest. Hunched over as he was, the man’s ass crack began sliding up and out of the pitiful pants. Greater tears were heard in the fabric; the t shirt tore under the arms and the pants split all through the crotch. On and on he fattened, swelling with pure blubber, amassing in the enormous stomach. The boy lost strength even to hold himself up; collapsing onto the floor, his belly fat spreading like spilled milk on the concrete. It was mostrous obesity which, even now, Elias refused to halt. Putting a number to the smelly boy’s size seemed impossible: four hundred pounds? Five hundred? What did it even matter? Even the crowds looked on with disgust at him; no longer one of their own.
Elias turned to view the other three men who had tried to challenge him. Wisely, each one of them had already sunk to their knees, bowing their heads at the even more muscular Elias, whose clothes barely contained the massive bulk of his stature. Throwing off his shirt, Elias allowed the crowd to see what had become of him; a god amongst all of them. He smirked to himself, wondering what to do with the three remaining men. Best of all, he could smell their fear. He walked in front of each one, lifting their chins to him and gazing into their eyes, as if searching for true repentance. Then, with the widest grin on his face, Elias spoke only to the crowds surrounding them all. “Get them!” he ordered.
There was a great rush of movement. One of the men stood and allowed himself to be seized by the coven, accepting his fate, whereas the other two attempted to flee; eventually brought down by the great many members now willing to follow the orders of their leader, without question. As if in an act of mercy, all three of them had been stripped of their clothes by the coven and were presented, entirely naked, with arms held behind their backs and the two who had tried to escape in headlocks; held by their cousins, brothers, sisters, fathers, like an offering to Elias to do what he wanted with them. They had made a grab for power and lost. There was no saving them now.
Consumed with his own sense of authority and accomplishment, Elias ripped off his own remaining clothes, standing there proudly in just his underwear; powerful in every sense of the word. His erection was strong, having grown, just like every other muscle in his body; not that he thought twice about anyone seeing it. The three men who had, up until so recently, been pumped full of adrenaline and testosterone, ready for the fight, now seemed to cower and whimper as they were held before him. Each was handsome and strong; with beautiful, toned bodies, built with muscle from years of training and challenges; true warriors of their dark coven.
Elias began reciting an ancient spell, mumbling beneath his breath. All three began wriggling uncomfortably against the many hands that held them, their eyes squeezed shut, waiting for the end to come. In contrast, Elias’ eyes danced with fire as he began to feel the men’s power entering into him; his giant body able to take it all in with ease. The men wailed with the pain of being stripped of their abilities; becoming nothing more than helpless mortals.
Even before he had completed the power transfer, Elias began the fattening of them. He could hear the changes in their groans as the inevitable stomach pains began to grow within them. All three tried to lean forward, but it was no use. Their skin had become sweaty and almost slimy to the touch, resulting in even more hands reaching out to hold them still for Elias. Then the first signs began to appear; a bloating in each of their middles, simultaneously.
“Hold still!” shouted an angry man, trying to keep one of the writing men in place for his leader, even as his slippery body began to swell.
“It’s working!” another marvelled, able to stand back and watch Elias’ power in action. “He’s doing it to them as well!”
Stomach muscles quickly disappeared beneath a layer of soft flesh. For one of the men, his pecs began turning into pointed nipples with remarkable speed. The pushing out of the belly was seen on all of them, rounding out into a paunch. Another of them seemed to grow especially well in the hips; his thighs swelling faster than the others’ and his glutes clearly taking more of a hit than was common on the male physique.
It was the greatest pleasure Elias had ever known; his large body becoming more powerful than any other. He seemed to rise in stature; his giant shoulders pushing outwards. He widened his stance as his enormous, muscular thighs swelled with muscle and his whole body stretched, increasing his height to well beyond that of any other in the room; his underwear now sliding up into his crack as his giant muscular glutes took shape.
What ecstacy it was, watching his enemies fall like this. The ultimate defeat, stripping them of everything that made them special, watching as their handsome faces filled with fat. The crowds were readjustting their grip on them as they all swelled from their middles. One of the men opened his eyes and Elias eagerly held his stare. Those beautiful dark eyes falling back beneath increasingly large and puffy cheeks. Bellies rounding, fat now began to fill their groins, growing as if to take away even their very own manhoods.
The crowd stumbled with the bottom-heavy traitor on the end, as his giant rear pushed against those who held him up. His gaint, puffy arms were becoming difficult for them to grip, even as he appeared to lose the strength to try and fight against them. The boy in the middle looked almost drunk as his enormous chin began swallowing his neck. His stomach had grown large and ball-shaped, with an incredible width to his still expanding waistline. The third was almost comical to look upon, with enormous breasts beneath his hairy chest that sat atop a swollen, almost sagging belly. The stink of their combined sweat was making those not involved in holding them up slowly start to back away. The blubber was everywhere, rippling through their bodies; soft, squishy, overfed pigs. Elias laughed harder and harder as he pressed forward with their transformation, eventually toppling a group of strong men still holding one of the fattening boys up.
So while every single person in that coven looked up at him with fear in their eyes that night, they all knew with absolute certainty that they had found the ultimate leader that they were looking for. No other coven could challenge his might. Under Elias, they would find glory and prestige. The greatest leader that they would ever have.
“I don’t think those men wanted to be made fat like that,” Lincoln commented as an extraordinarily huge and muscular Elias slid into bed next to him that night.
Elias smiled and slid his large hand over Lincoln’s doughy belly, grabbing at the flesh and getting hard at the same time. The dumb, fat human hardly knew better than to question him. “Of course they didn’t,” he smiled, kissing Lincoln on his lips. “But I did it anyway. I was merciful. They’re still alive, aren’t they?”
“Is there a way to turn them back?” Lincoln asked innocently.
“Oh, Lincoln!” Elias sighed, enjoying the boy’s utter stupidity. “I wouldn’t turn those men back anymore than I would reverse what’s been done to you!” He grabbed at the jiggly flesh around Lincoln’s stomach and watched as the nipples bounced at the same time. “I don’t want you to try and get your simple brain around it but, trust me when I say that things are much better this way.” He grabbed Lincoln’s erection and began sliding his large hand up and down the comparatively pitiful shaft. All thought seemed to leave Lincoln’s mind and he began breathing heavily, lost to everything but the pleasure of being touched by Elias. “Don’t think that, just because we’re tethered together, we’re in any way equal. We’re not,” he stated warningly, despite the smile on his face. “You’re just my big, fat, pet piggy!” he teased. “Every day I will feed you a little bit more. Your belly is going to grow bigger and bigger, your ass will get squisher and more repulsive. You’ll be by my side; a warning to everyone in my coven about what I did to those four men tonight, so that none of them ever forget. And that…” he promised, leaning into Lincoln’s ear, “...is going to get me so fucking hard!”
Lincoln smiled as he felt Elias’ massive erection press against his large love handles, pressing it into what would eventually become enormous folds of fat.
“You want to make me happy, don’t you, Lincoln?” Elias asked, gazing down at the fat man’s face.
“More than anything!” Lincoln promised, sounding like he hadn’t heard a word of what had been said before.
“Good,” Elias nodded, reaching down to the floor where he had hidden an incredibly large slice of cake that had been laced with all of the fattening formulas his mother had been making over the last few weeks; a slow, erotic fattening that he planned to continue. “Eat this for me then,” he ordered, already sliding the fork into it. He could smell each ingredient of the many potions inside the cake slice, undetectable to Lincoln’s human nose, and it thrilled him to know what it would slowly do to the lardy boy, once ingested; those blubbery, foolsome pounds of pure fat pouring themselves into his already obese body. Damn! He was getting so turned on at the thought. He didn’t waste any time when Lincoln obediently opened his mouth to begin. “Such a lucky piggy!” he cooed, watching Lincoln swallow the first bite.
Lincoln moaned in appreciation, seeing his big, strong, powerful man gazing at him with such lust as he ate. His professional sports career seemed like such a distant memory. What a waste of time it had been training and building up his body in order to play at such a high standard. There was only one person that meant anything to him now. Someone he would never, ever disappoint.
“Open up, piggy…!”
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Amanda Young style and fem whatnot thoughts
Once again here to speak my thoughts that nobody asked for because I love documenting my brain which I have to boot up like a chainsaw.
I've spoken about Amanda's appearance before! Going over her outfits throughout the franchise and such and how I believe it kinda symbolises the stages she's at- I am in the firm belief her cutting her hair was almost like a rebirth for example.
However, right now I'm looking at the ''gender representation'' and stylisation side I guess? Which, I want to state- These are my opinions and thoughts and are by no way to say I'm like the only CORRECT view and anyone else's interpretation of Amanda that's different to mine is wrong, because I like seeing everyone's various takes on her character.
With that said! I see Amanda as somebody who tries to be feminine, but can't express it truly how she wants? Down to factors such as she can't afford certain things like makeup accessories, and that she needs to have more of a practical wardrobe whilst being an apprentice. Oh! Also having to hide her identity at times.
(I also want to slide in the fact that I don't think she's hyper feminine or masculine, honestly? She's just Amanda really, I wouldn't personally put a label on it when it comes to that.)
The first look we get of Amanda, she's in a way more revealing outfit than her future ones whilst working under John. This could just be her style, which to a certain degree I agree on... However there also could be an aspect of performative femininity, seeing as she's not ''reformed'' at this point and it's suggested in the Saw wiki that she has prostituted herself to be able to fund her drug addiction before. Basically, catering to the male gaze to get what she wants.
She's wearing a cut off shirt which exposes her shoulders and collar area a lot, something we don't see again until Saw 3- And even then it's still not as cut off as the purple one. Amanda also has fishnets, a skirt and boots on. If I had to say how I view Amanda' style myself, I'd go with Hot Topic thief and or something alternative like ''grungy.''
We've also got the fact she has black nail polish on, eyeliner and more curled out hair- Even when she grows it back, it's not as wavy as it's seen here, so it's possible she's either just heavily dishevelled or she purposely has maybe curled it out a little. Once again, this could possibly be her trying to look more appealing to others by ''grooming'' herself better. However, I also think she wants to just for herself really.
Now, we've got her Saw X look, which to me is the most heavily influenced by John. Amanda has cut off her hair to I guess kinda a pixie-bob cut? A big leap from her previous haircut which had it falling at least over her shoulders if not longer. She's also very bare faced, with no heavily noticeable touches of makeup anywhere to be seen.
Her clothes are drastically more practical than her previous outfit. A form fitting shirt, cargo pants and combat boots. The only influence I feel she has on this outfit is the choker and little earring. You can't really blame her for the change though- Amanda just wouldn't be putting time into something like beauty cosmetics or making any fashion statement when she's got shit to do... Y'know like make death traps and kidnap people, activities where the way you look doesn't matter and you wouldn't want your clothes to get caught on something especially.
Before I fully move on to her Saw 2 look, two honourable mentions! These both showcase the fact that nowadays, when Amanda is out and about, she's trying to hide her identity. She can't really draw any attention to herself and that is reflected in what she wears. The Scott Tibbs Documentary look has to be one of my favourites, I love the skull trousers so much and they are definitely something she wears because she likes the LOOK, not just because of ''simplicity.''
(Amanda has them on again in the deleted nightmare scene as well, so it's a recurring piece of her wardrobe.)
(I also think this is her dressing for herself- Compared to her outfits when it comes to the games and abductions)
The pig outfit, though I believe can be slightly stupid at times, due to the fact that it's probably less convenient than whipping on something like a balaclava with a hoodie and a bit more out there visually too- It still does it's main intended job, which is to conceal the identity of the Jigsaw apprentices. With the one I've selected above, this is when Amanda is going to abduct Adam, so obviously this is still pretty early in the timeline? We can see a re-appearance of smudged eye makeup like in her introduction.
TRYING TO GET BACK ON TRACK! Here we have her ''blue'' outfits as I dub them. I'm aware there is a time jump between them, however generally what I have to say for them is the exact same? We can see that Amanda is growing her hair out more and I would say these are very relaxed fits. Saw 2 Amanda has to be one of her most basic outfits I'd say, a plain blue shirt and blue sweatpants to go along with it.... The wiki feet people are going insane too.
WOOOOO! ON TO ANOTHER OF MY FAVOURITE OUTFITS. YOU JUST KNOW SHE STOLE THAT BELT FROM HOT TOPIC I AM SO SORRY!
Saw 3 Amanda to me is a mix between something like her look in Saw X and then her look in Saw (2004)- I also love the contrast between it and the Saw 2 look, a blue vs red type feel almost? You're definitely more inclined to see Amanda as intimidating here than in blue. Comparisons aside, let's look at the actual fit this woman has on!
Once again, she sports cargo pants with a belt to accompany and combat boots too. The shirt isn't as cut off as the purple one as I stated before, but it leaves a lot of her collar and back area exposed. It's her influence alongside John's- And her almost I wouldn't say rebelling? But defining herself outside of him.
If I once again want to go full English teacher analysis... We could make the reach and say that her physically exposing herself is paired with how she emotionally is exposed as well. Her lowest points if you will.
BUT! We'll move on from that so I can ramble about some other accessories. Amanda is wearing a gold ring and a watch, nothing too out there but I wanted to point them out seeing as I am covering the WHOLE outfit. Her hair is now at it's original length, once again reinforcing the fact she is almost reverting back to her old style but at the same time redefining it? Hair growth to show personal growth.
(Some more honourable mentions.)
Here we have her dress, leather jacket and DBD concept art! First we'll look at the dress.
It's honestly really cute to me- The ribbon around her neck just really makes it AMANDA, otherwise there isn't too much to say on the design outside of that and it's colour. Then moving on to the leather jacket, it's something I can definitely see her wearing a lot on top of her other outfits.
OK! This is getting super fucking long now, I'll try and finish off soon- I have to say I love the DBD concept art and the in game designs too, I can 100% see where they've taken inspiration from with the outfits. I'm in firm belief Amanda deserves to have her arm sleeves so where they've combined that and the Saw 3 look is URHG YES. I also enjoy their take on her leather look, fleshed out the design more in my opinion.
Anyway... If you've somehow gotten all the way down here? Jesus Christ, thanks I guess? I am someone who loves over analysing things and discussing characters/movies like this, so I just couldn't help myself anymore. Oh, and feel free to add on to any of this, whether you agree or disagree!
MAL OUT
#amanda young#shawnee smith#saw#saw 2004#saw x#saw 2#saw 3#saw movies#saw franchise#saw headcanons#saw character study#sawposting#jigsaw#jigsaw apprentices#dbd pig#the pig dbd#amanda young dbd#saw art#dbd art
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You Remind Me of Her
Spike Spiegel x Fem Reader SMUT
Watched and finished Cowboy BeBop and thought it was pretty good. Which means it's time to write an angsty, smutty one shot. It's a really, REALLY long one so settle in. Things get a lil spicy in more ways than one but it's all good. Spike is a sweet, broken baby and he deserves all the love. Minor's this is NOT for you, please walk away. Enjoy my dears.
WARNING: 18+, Minors DNI, SPOILERS, TRIGGER WARNINGS: angst, heated conversations/arguments, smoking, talk of past traumas, slight gaslighting, STRONG mentions of past abuse, breakdown, angst to fluff, reconciliation, reassurance, soft foreplay, fingering, oral (m receiving), comfort sex (p in v), praise kink if you squint, all the lovey-dovey stuff, cum on body, cuddles.
It was supposed to be a quiet night, with Jet out looking for info on a bounty, Faye blowing all her money at the casino, and Ed and Ein on some wacky adventure of their own. You figured you'd have the Bebop to yourself and that Spike would tag along with another one of your comrades. But being the stubborn man he is, he stayed back, wanting some time to himself as well. For a good bit of the night, you both kept to yourselves, he took a cat nap, and you cleaned up the Bebop.
While you were cleaning the kitchen you thought you might try and spend some time with Spike rather than avoid him, seeing as it might come off as rude if you ignored him. After you finished cleaning you put on some comfy clothes in place of your work ones and made your way to the living space. You saw Spike was still lightly sleeping on the couch. You gently bumped his leg, jolting him awake from his dream. He furrowed his brows as he looked over to you.
"Was that really necessary?" he grumbled, annoyed that you woke him. You chuckled to yourself as you sat on the floor next to him, now being at eye level with him. Telling him he shouldn't sleep the entire day away in hopes to lighten his mood. That only seemed to make things worse though. He gave an exasperated sigh as he sat up and pulled a cigarette from his shirt pocket. He blatantly stated that he didn't want to be woken up and that he would've preferred to keep sleeping. You furrowed your brows,
"Well there's no need to be a jerk about it," you pulled yourself up from the floor. You looked at him and crossed your arms, wanting him to talk about what was bugging him, even though you never outright said it. He looked at you with bitter-cold eyes,
"Well maybe if you left me alone there wouldn't be an issue," he spat as he flicked his lighter and took a few puffs until the end burned a bright orange. You sighed heavily, your fingers gripped the sleeve of your shirt to keep yourself calm and collected,
"Im sorry if I bothered you, I just wanted to spend some time with you. Feels like its been a long time since the two of us spent any time together and just hung out you know ."
You two weren't super close, but close enough to where you'd hang out, talk, and occasionally hook up to pass the time. You both knew it would never lead to anything, but you stupidly developed feelings for the floofy-haired man anyways. You wanted to be the one to support him. But he never really showed interest in having a relationship with you, or anyone for that matter. The only time he showed any interest in anything was when his past was brought up, and especially when a certain someone was mentioned. It was those moments where he would either would open up or close off completely. And at that moment you could tell he was thinking about her and his past as he exhaled a cloud of smoke, clearly irritated with you.
"Yeah, and?" He didn't look at you when he asked. You felt the heat of anger and resentment rise in your cheeks, finding it hard to keep your composure.
"And I thought we could spend a little bit of time together, is that such a heinous request," you spat back at him.
"Whenever you want to 'spend time together' it usually means you wanna sleep with me, and im gonna pass on that." Your arms fell to your sides and clenched into fists. You took an audibly deep sigh,
"Believe it or not I don't always wanna sleep with you, sometimes I do just want to talk," you rebutted. He took another puff, and exhaled heavily, still not making eye contact with you,
"Heh, could've fooled me," he mumbled, the cigarette never leaving his lips as he spoke. You scoffed in disbelief and crossed your arms over your chest once again, scowling at him. Spike had always been a bit snarky, it seemed it was just in his nature, but the comment he made was pure spite.
"For the love of Christ what the hell is your problem?"
He adjusted to a position where he was slouching and one arm rested crossed on his thigh, while the other reached for his half-smoked cigarette,
"I already told you," he said before taking in another long, exasperated drag. You rolled your eyes at his dramatics,
"Don't give me that bullshit Spike, we both know that's not true," you bitterly spat.
You both were getting visibly frustrated at that point. Spike's leg began to lightly bounce up and down and your fingers tapped against your arms.
"Even if something was bothering me it's none of your goddamn business," he said finishing his cigarette and putting it out in the ashtray beside him.
"Spike, please, I just wanna-" you were cut off by Spike standing up abruptly, now fuming with anger in his eyes,
"Fine, since you wanna know so fuckin' badly I'll tell you! When I sleep, I'm never at peace with myself, if it's not one thing from my past it's another. Not that you would understand." He said sitting back down, defeated and frustrated. You sat next to him, hoping he would allow you to comfort him,
"I might understand it more than you think," you said as you reached for his hand, only for him to pull away.
"No, you don't understand. You don't understand what it's like to lose the one person who loved you for what you were, even though they knew you were inherently bad. You'll never know what it's like to have to just walk away from the life you knew and the people you loved and cared about. You'll never know what that's like, ever." Angered by his remark you rebutted,
"You have no right to say that whatsoever when you know very little of what my past was like. Not once have ever implied that kind of attitude towards your past and what you experienced. Do not say I don't understand, because, believe it or not I do know what it's like " you said getting up and preparing to leave the room.
"You're the one who just had to push. This is what you wanted to know, and you got what you asked for," he snapped as stepped in front of you, blocking your way to the exit.
"At least I'm not a hypocrite. How you always say that we should let our pasts stay in the past. But as soon as she's brought up that philosophy is out the window and is suddenly the only thing that fucking matters. But when it's one of us it shouldn't be bothered with and we should leave it alone and move on. Just because she keeps popping up in your dreams doesn't mean we get to put everything on hold to chase after you chasing after her," you said as you struggled to push him aside to make your way to the bathroom, but he remained still.
"At least I still care about the people in my past. I didn't just up and leave and abandon the people I loved because I wanted to. That's the difference between you and me, I was loyal to the ones I loved-" Before he could get another word in you slapped him, hard. Tears began to swell and threatened to fall from your eyes as he brought his hand to his face and attempted to rub the sting out of his cheek. But you would never let him see them, not like this.
"How dare you? You have no right to bring that up. Because you don't know the whole story of what happened. And I didn't abandon them, if we're going to bring up abandonment, Julia is a perfect example. She abandoned you, Spike, and if she really gave a damn about you she would've showed up that day and ran away with you. But she didn't. So, as you always say, let it go and move on," you said, pushing him as hard as you could, finally getting him to move aside. He stared at you in awe as you made your way to the door,
"She would've never abandoned me," he stated lightly as he reached for another cigarette.
"Could've fooled me," you replied harshly as you exited the room and made your way down the hall to the bathroom.
You slammed the door and locked it behind you, you took a deep breath as you made your way to the tub. You turned the knobs and let the water fill the porcelain vessel. Tears began to fall as the water ran, drowning out the sounds of your stifled cries. The feeling of guilt set in the pit of your stomach as memories began to flood your mind. Particularly the ones that were brought up in the argument.
You sank down in the steaming water, shuddering at the warmth that rushed through your body while pondering on the past. Tears continuing to stain your face as you wondered deeper into your thoughts.
You were part of a family at one point in time, to a home where a couple took in lost, orphaned, or abandoned children. During the early years of being there you never felt the need to run away on or be your own, you always felt incredibly safe and secure. You helped out around the house, did your chores, and got along well enough with your housemates. Until you got a little older, and then things began to change. Your father began acting differently toward you, more aggressive and irritable. And it only got worse after his wife passed away unexpectedly. He would start taking his aggression out on you and some of the of the other girls living in the home. It started off small, whether it was pushing you aside harshly or random flicks on the head to keep you in line. Then it progressed in to hitting, manhandling, and kicking while you were doing chores or playing with the other kids. It was to the point where it was everyday that the abuse took place. You and a few of your housemates were bruised, bloodied and beaten to the point of unconsciousness, while other housemates were used for more sinister acts. Anyone who fought back was either beaten senseless and kicked out, or never seen again. No matter what it was something would set him off and he would go into uncontrollable rages, and you had no choice but to take the beatings. You were young, defenseless, and had nowhere else to go, therefore you had no choice but to endure the constant abuse.
Until one day you found your out.
You were able to save back enough woolongs from odd jobs to get a one way trip off world, but you alone. Woolongs were hard to come by in the household and being able to build up what you had seemed like a miracle in itself. You planned to make your escape late into the night, after everyone was asleep, and taking only what you needed to survive.
When the time came you were quick and quiet about it. Woolongs and suitcase in hand, you quietly walked down the stairs and out the front door. You looked behind you saddened and guilt coursing through your entire bod. You wanted to bring them all with you and give them a better life. but unfortunately it just wasn't possible. Tears streamed down your face as you struggled to go forward. But you found the strength deep within you and walked away, never looking back after. The memories of your housemates flooded your mind as you made your way on the ship alone, blocking out all the sounds of the station. You found yourself a seat and watched as the ship began to take off, and you looked down on that planet for the last time.
You submerged yourself under the water, hoping it would help shake off the memories of that dreadful place. As much as you hated to admit it, you and Spike were similar when it came to your pasts, but you both reacted much differently from one another. You would find yourself entranced in fear and guilt, afraid that you made the wrong decision or that you didn't try hard enough to help yourself and those who you left behind. Remembering the abuse you endured, as well as being reminded of emotional and mental scars that were left for you to carry.
Reemerging from the lukewarm water for air, you couldn't handle the thoughts that were running rampant in your head. The quiet tears that had been falling now turned to violent sobs of anguish. You couldn't hold it in, after all the time that had passed, you couldn't find the strength hold it back anymore. It hurt to think about it, to think that you turned your back on them, even though you didn't have any other choice.
After you rode out your breakdown you finished your bath and pulled yourself up and out of the tub. Grabbing a towel you wrapped your body up and went to the sink to wash your face. Looking in the a mirror, a red, swollen, puffy eyed face looked back at you. Sighing heavily you splashed cold water on your face, hoping it would help with the redness and swelling.
After drying off and putting your clothes back on you looked at yourself again, still puffy and red. It seemed it was going to be a bit before it went back to normal.
Slipping quietly out of the bathroom you made your way across the ship to your room. You let yourself fall back onto the bed, hoping you'd just crash, and you that's exactly what you did.
...
Weeks passed since the argument between the two of you. Neither one saying much to the other during that time. You both tried your best to not think about what happened, ignoring the nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach. You were courteous when you interacted with him, which hadn't been often. Whether it was during missions or at meal time. You could tell it was bothering him though, he wanted you to say something, anything, to be angry and upset with the way he spoke to you that night. But you felt it was best to move on from it rather than bringing it back up and continue a senseless conversation.
It had been a hard day for you, you lost a bounty and Jet had been harping on you to keep up with the rest of the gang, seeing as you'd been slipping behind lately. During those weeks you spent most of your time in your room laying in bed crying, overthinking, and sleeping, so you didn't get as much training in as you should. You didn't want to cause a fuss with your shipmates thought so you kept to yourself and tried to do your best to get through your fragile state. But Jet being the kind of man he was, he could see right through you,
"I don't know what's going on between you and Spike, but you gotta figure that shit out and get your head back in the game Y/N," he said as you were traveling back to your room after returning from the failed mission. You gave him a sadden expression,
"I know, I'm sorry Jet, I just need to get some things figured out before I talk to him is all. But don't worry about me, I'll be ok, really ," you said giving him sad eyes with a forced smile. He gave you a sympathetic expression and put his metallic hand on your shoulder giving you a pat of reassurance,
"I hope so kid, if you ever need anything I'm here for ya. Just get back to being the Y/N we know and love, ok?"
You pulled him into a quick but loving hug, fighting the urge to cry,
"Thank you Jeb, you're the best." Pulling away you gave him an appreciative smile and made your way to your room, not realizing a certain someone had overheard the interaction.
...
You spent the rest of the day in your room, cleaning up and reorganizing to keep your mind busy, but when you couldn't clean or reorganize anymore you stripped down and crawled into bed. Though it was difficult, you were finally able to drift off to sleep.
There was a loud banging on your door that caused you to jolt up from your slumber, groaning in frustration you wrapped yourself in your blanket, pulled yourself out of bed, and walked to the door. A stoic Spike was waiting on the other side when you opened up,
"Hey," you said still half asleep. You looked at him groggily, he was shirtless and in a pair of light grey sweats, but you didn't pay too much attention to his attire considering the circumstances. He grunted lightly and pushed past you into your room, almost knocking you down. Sighing deeply you closed the door behind you and followed him into your room. He sat down at the foot of you bed while you walked to the head and sat, putting some distance between you both.
"It's late Spike," you said while fiddling with the blanket that clung to your body.
"Yeah, " he replied while flicking his lighter on and off. A bit of silence passed until you spoke up, your breath getting caught in your throat while asking,
"Why are you here?"
"I wanna talk," he stated in a whisper. Spike adjusted so he was now sitting cross legged on the bed and pulled a cigarette out from his pant pocket,
"You mind?" You shook your head in response, knowing it wouldn't matter if you did. Once he lit his lighter and took a puff the room began to fill with smoke, and a stoic expression fell on his face once again.
"What did you wanna talk about," you asked while turning your face the other way as to not inhale the smoke directly. He grumbled at your question, holding back what he wanted to say. It took some time, but after a few more grumbles and mutters to himself he finally spoke,
"About that night, when we argued," your head snapped back in his direction, unsure and anxious of where the conversation was headed.
"I've been thinking a lot about what was said from both of us, but mostly what I said. And even though a lot of the things that were said were true, I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the things I said and how I treated you. It wasn't right of me to do that" he said gritting the cigarette between his teeth. You frowned,
"What do you mean by that?"
"What?"
"What do you mean by a lot of things that were said were true," you pried at him as you clutched the blanket. The smoke in the room was getting heavy and you began to cough, he sighed and put the cigarette out, seeing as it was clearly bothering you.
"What I mean is that some of what you said was true, like how I always run after her when I get even the slightest hint of where she is. And that whenever anything is brought it becomes the only thing that matters. It's one of those things I can't explain," he said falling back on to the bed. Your body relaxed, you looked at him as he laid there, lost in thought and an expression of confliction. You were about to speak, but he beat you to it,
"And I feel bad about what I said to you. It wasn't fair of me to assume what happened, and throwing it back in your face was wrong. I'm sorry," he said in a soft voice. His hand ran through his hair as he shuffled. He wasn't used to being this open or soft with anyone, anyone that wasn't her. Feeling you could open up to him now in this moment, you spoke calmly,
"I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have pushed as much as I did. I lost my temper and said things I shouldn't have. I just wanted you to be open with me, like you were with Julia. And when I didn't get that, I lashed out at you, at that wasn't fair of me to do. I shouldn't have expected you to be as intimate with me as you were in your past. I'm really, truly sorry Spike," you said wholeheartedly as you pat his shoulder lightly. He jumped slightly in surprise but soon relaxed into your touch. He furrowed his brows as he turned his face towards you,
"You remind me of her, you know. To the point where it hurts," he said as he placed his hand in yours.
"How so?"
"It's the little things you do. The way you handle situations so calmly and treat everyone with compassion. But mostly it's the way you look at me. You have that spark in your eyes that she had, and its like seeing a ghost that continuously lingers. I know you're not her, and I don't expect you to be. And Im not sure how to manage these feelings I have, but I'm trying to be better." He sat up and turned to face you, his hand never leaving yours. His eyes finally meeting up with yours for the first time in weeks. The soft glow from the stars flowing into your room from thewindow illuminated the uniqueness of them. Captivated by his features you found yourself at a loss for words,
"Y/N, I promise that no matter what, I'll never use what happened in your past against you ever again. And I want you to know that when you're ready, I'll be more than willing to listen to all of it," he said as he softly cupped your cheek with his free hand. A few stray tears fell down your cheeks and he gently wiped them away as you spoke,
"Thank you Spike. You don't how much that means to me. And I promise to do the same for you whenever you're ready," you whispered softly to him. The glittering his eyes from the soft light shifted in something in you, what little bit of anger you had left for him melted away. And then a new feeling bubbled up inside you, a feeling you hadn't experienced in quite a while. You felt yourself drawing closer to him, feeling a bit bold, you gave him a quick kiss on the cheek,
"Thank you again Spike," you said as you gave him an expression of gratitude. He smiled softly in response, but you could tell he was still holding something back, something strained. His hands moved from your tear stained cheeks down to your bare shoulders, his eyes hazy and a faint dusting of pink in his face. You felt the heat rising all throughout your body, and your self control depleting with each passing second. Lust overcame your better judgement and you closed the space between you with a soft kiss. It was loving, yet needy all the same as your hands slowly ran down his shoulders and to his chest. You expected him to pull back, but instead he deepened the kiss and tightly gripped your shoulders. Pulling away to take a breath, your lips flushed and slightly swollen, you felt a spur of guilt in your chest,
"I'm sorry Spike, I shouldn't have done that," you stated disappointingly as you turned away from him and took your hands off his chest. Only to be met with his hand bringing your gaze back to his,
"Do it again." His eyes dark and glassy with desire as your lips gently crashed on to his once again. You slowly fell back on to the soft mattress. You slowly snaked your arms down his back in attempts to pull him closer, his calloused hands wandering down to your waist to do the same. He gave a slight groan as the kiss got more intense and sloppy, the need for his touch coursing through your veins once his grip tightened on your waist. He pulled away with a gasp for air as he looked at you, your face red as a rose and eyes half lidded with want,
"You're so pretty," he said in a breathy whisper.
He pulled you in close and his head dipped into your neck. His hair tickled your neck as his flushed lips make contact with your sensitive skin. A shiver flowed through your body as he began to sweetly suck on the skin, holding back your moans for the sake of your shipmates. As he left them one by one down to your collarbone he lightly tugged on the blanket still wrapped tightly around you. Pushing him up and off you for just a moment so you could get into a better position, you teasingly peeled the blanket off of you, slowly revealing your flushed skin. The way the stars light fell on your naked form left Spike breathless. Though he'd seen you naked many times before, the way the light fell on you, the expression on your face, and maybe just the reassurance that you understood him in that moment made him see you in an entirely different light. You held out your arms to him, coaxing him to come back to you. His hands caressed the plush skin of your thighs as he continued to leave hickeys down your collarbone and to your chest. Your heavy breathing and stifled moans filled the small space as he began to suck on the soft flesh and slowly moved to the hardened bud. As he took your nipple in his mouth, one of his hands moved to the other and began to roll and pinch it between his nimble fingers. You yelped at the bursting sensation coming from your chest,
"Spike," you quietly moaned out to him. Gripping his hair lightly as a way to keep you grounded from losing yourself. Everytime the two of you did this you found it very easy to lose yourself in the heat of it all and fully surrender yourself to him. But this time you were reluctant to do so. Not because you were afraid, but because of what you knew. The nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach knowing were never going to be her, not matter how hard you tried to be. He would always want her, and that hurt you,
"Hey, what's wrong," he said, concern lacing his voice.
"It's nothing," you sighed lightly as you twirled his hair between your fingers. He moved his hands to your face brought your gaze to his,
"Talk to me pretty girl." You tried coming up with a plausible excuse, but he could see right through you,
"You're thinking about her aren't you?" You nodded your head and looked away from him, shame spread across your face. He smirked at you lovingly and his hand moved down in between your thighs and rubbed against your sensitive, slick nether regions. A surprised, pleasure filled moan escaped you as he spoke,
"Don't think about her Y/N, right now the only thing I want you to think about is me. Because what I'm thinking about in this moment, the only thing I care about right now, is you. I want to please you, to touch you, and make you feel loved. Shes in the past, and you're here with me, and I want it to stay that way for as long as possible," he said as his pace became more intense, pleasure surged through your body in blissful spasms. You found a sliver of comfort knowing that he wanted you as much as you wanted him in this moment, and at that point you let yourself go completely. You couldn't hold in your moans and ragged breaths as his pace became almost too much to bare. His slender fingers slowed a bit as he moved down your slit and inserted a digit in to you. You covered your mouth and moaned sinfully into your palm as he went slowly in and out of you,
"Uncover your mouth sweetheart, I wanna hear every sound you make for me" sincerity and need dripping off his tongue as he spoke. You moved your hand, but still tried to keep the volume minimal. He added another digit and his pace quickened once more. Your moans started to become more frequent as you felt your orgasm approaching steadily. He curled his fingers against your walls, earning a squeal from you,
"Spike, if you keep that up," you said pitifully in between gasps. This didn't stop him from slowing his pace though.
"I want you to cum for me pretty girl," he said sinfully as he kept up his pace. As if on cue, you clenched around his fingers and let your orgasm flow through you. The moan you let out was much louder than you would've liked, but you didn't care, you felt amazing. He pulled out of you, his fingers covered in your slick.
He wiped in on his pants before removing them hastily, revealing his painful hard cock. The tip a flushed rosy color and a bead of precum slowly dripping down. You crawled over to him and looked up into his eyes pleadingly. He gave a slight nod, his breathing hitched at the the thought of what you were about to do. You took the tip into your mouth and swirled your tongue it, tasting the salt from his precum. You teased the tip a little more, earning light groans and ragged breaths from Spike before taking him fully into your mouth. He let out a whimper as you began to take I'm entirely into your mouth and down your throat. His noises like music to your as you want painfully slow,
"Fuck, it feels so good," he groaned as he ran a hand through your hair, wanting to take control, but not giving in to his primal desires. He wanted to be gentle with you and made sure that you were as comfortable as possible. His fingers ran through your hair as you began to quicken your pace, feeling the tip of his cock lightly hitting the back of your throat. It wasn't enough to hurt you, but you definitely knew it would be something you'd feel the next day. You could feel him pulsating against your hollowed cheeks, knowing he would last too much longer if you kept this up. You found yourself in a rhythm that made him quiver and whimper everytime you took him fully, hoping you'd get him to finish as soon as you could. But, despite Spike wanting nothing more than to cum down your throat, he gently stopped you. His cock sliding out of your mouth with a pop,
"Not yet pretty girl," he said wiping away the little bit of saliva that dipped from the corner of you mouth.
He lifted you up to him and kissed you with heated passion, his tongue slipping into your mouth as he pushed you back on to the bed. His hand roamed down to your thighs and proceeded to spread them,
"You ready," he asked in a hot, breathy whisper against your ear.
"Yes Spike, please," you pleaded, your skin on flushed and sensitive as ever and your pussy aching. He slowly thrusted into you, you clenched around him as a reflex to the slight relief you felt. Both of you moaning at the initial thrust,
"Fuck," he cried out. He brought you in close and began to slowly thrust in to you once you were fully adjusted. His fingers traced circled on your shoulder blades and he placed butterfly kisses down your forehead and cheeks. Feeling him pick up the pace, your moans became more prominent and carried throughout the room. You found yourself submitting to him once more as your moans got louder and louder with each thrust, not caring who heard the two of you.
"I love the sounds you make Y/N," he groaned out. You gave an incoherent gasp in response. He brought his gaze to yours,
"You're so fucking pretty like this, taking my cock so well. You're doing amazing sweetheart," he said losing himself to your gaze. The look of pure love and lust in your eyes was nearly too much to bear for him. He always thought you were an attractive person, even before you two started doing this. But as he got to know you, he thought you were one of the prettiest people he'd ever had the pleasure of meeting. And when he first saw you writhing under him, he thought he'd met an angel. The way you shivered under his touch, the way you looked at him with your starstruck eyes, eveything about you when you two were together made him admire you even more.
"So fuckin' beautiful," he said to himself. Lost in the thought of you being with him like this. You gripped at his lower back harshly as he began to bottom you out, losing control of his rhythm. His whimpers and your moans filled the room like a symphony, he whispered sweet nothing in your ear, telling you how beautiful you were and how much he loved being with you. You felt his cock pulsing once again against your slick walls, he was close, as were you. Your moans turned into pure, sinful squealing once again and you felt another orgasm threatening to wash over you,
"Spike, I-" He cut you off before you could finish.
"I know sweetheart. Just a little longer, please" he said said kissing your forehead sweetly. He lost complete control at that point and was fixated on making you cum with him. His thrusts were sporadic and needy, and his cock harder than ever as he continued to fuck senseless. His whimpers were now rhythmatic as he finally moaned out,
"Cum for me pretty girl." You gave out a pleasure filled moan as you came all over his still thrusting cock. The clench from your swollen pussy and the now dripping slick was more than enough to push him over the edge,
"Fuucckk," he drew out in an absolute sinful whimper as he pulled out of you and let out thick spurts of hot cum all over your inner thighs and pussy.
He stroked himself a few times to get all his cum out while taking a few deep, draw out sighs of relief. He must of been holding it in for a while because it was quite a load he let out, not that you cared, you were just happy you were able to be with him. You sighed in relief as he grabbed some tissues off your nightstand and cleaned you up then in turn cleaning himself. When he finished he threw the dirty tissues away and crawled into bed with you, covering you both in the blanket and pulling you in close for a sweet, loving cuddle. You began to drift off to sleep from exhaustion when you heard him say,
"I'm happy to have someone like you Y/N, " he whispered. You turned to him and kissed his cheek as he began to drift off,
"Same here," you said as you pulled him into the crook of your neck and the two of you fell asleep soundly in one another's embrace.
#cowboy bebop#cowboy bebop x reader#spike spiegel#spike spiegel x reader#spike spiegel smut#spike spiegel x reader smut#anime x reader#anime x reader smut
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