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itsonlydana · 1 month

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"Can you meet me halfway (I'll meet you halfway" | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader x Bard 👑 [king's special]

you went out clubbing on new years eve when a gorgeous rich couple hits on you and invites you back to their apartment to finish what you started right on the dancefloor

warnings/tags: NSWF! THIS IS ADULT CONTENT ✋️, modern!AU, threesome, oral sex (male & female), dirty talk, semi-public-sex, soft dom! bard and bratty dom!thranduil, protected sex, fingering, passing out during sex, slight overstimulation, age-gap (reader is of age, though its described that thranduil and bard are older), hairpulling, aftercare,

words: 13,8k

an: this is by far the dirtiest thing i've ever written and my god i'm not a smut writer; i get too flustered over my own writing lmao. Hopefully you can enjoy this out-of-character story even if it isn't new years anymore!

inspired by early 2000s club bangers like Kesha, Britney Spears, Black Eyed Peas (that's where the title came from) and Lady Gaga

+ masterlist +

🌿 reposts and comments or anonymous messages in my inbox are very appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

"What?!"

"I said," the barkeeper leaned closer and pushed a filled to the rim shotglass over the counter, "this one is from the pretty one to your right!"

With a myriad of people in this club who fit your definition of "pretty" you found yourself on the brink of shouting at the red-haired bartender once more.

This would mark the third attempt, given that the club's 2000s music was blaring to the extent that communication was damn near impossible if you weren't screaming or using your hands trying to get orders across the sticky, littered with neon glowstick wristbands counter.

Before you could ask her who the hell she'd meant, the bartender had turned away, leaving you to figure out the mystery man for yourself.

You lifted the shot glass to your nose and took a deep breath— pure tequila.

At least you would enjoy this one; the last few shots other men had sent over to you had been nothing but disgusting, ranging from vodka to Jägermeister and one you didn't even bother to drink.

The world spun a little when you turned your head over your shoulder and for a second the flashy lights blurred the people crowding the bar into one mass, unidentifiable and mushed together; then your eyes zeroed in on him and pretty didn't even begin to cover it.

Next to the bar, holding out his own shot glass in hands that could've fit three or five of them, stood a man that was intimidatingly gorgeous and decently tall even as he rested his hip cheekily against one of the chairs, elbow on the wooden top while he flicked his fingers against the rim of the glass.

Not even that he was just tall, and he was –surely taller than most of the men standing between you two –, but he had this quality about him that let him stand out of the crowd.

Maybe it was the hair, blonde like starlight and pulled into a long and messy ponytail, with just a few loose strands framing his strong jawline. Or maybe it was the smug look on his face, the smirk that tugged on his lips when you dragged your eyes over the see-through shirt that clung to his well... and oh so– so well-defined chest.

On any other occasion, you would have simply raised the glass and disappeared back into the crowd of dancing people, but tonight felt different.

New Year's Eve had that ring to it. The careless "Fuck it all, it's all going to shit anyway"-attitude.

Any newspaper or media marked today the last day of yet another frustrating, wonderful, soul-crushing, draining, exciting, and overall overwhelming year, full of things you regretted having done, and as you stared at the man meeting your gaze with a questioning arch of a dark eyebrow, you found yourself giving a flying fuck about whether you'll add another mark on that board.

There was a surge of power washing through your body as you toasted the glass in his direction before tipping it against your lips and letting the tequila rush into your mouth.

The alcohol went down burning, hot, and dry and left a warm trail down your throat into your stomach.

"I see you not only bear a resemblance to the devil, you drink like her as well," a sultry voice drawled, sufficiently loud for you to lift your head.

Somehow the man had managed to appear right next to you within seconds and got so close that you were confronted with a very exciting view of his chest.

You eyed it, naturally because who wouldn't take their time looking at the flexing pecs covered in silver glitter and sweat?

Slowly, you dragged your gaze upwards, only faltering for a moment at the sight of a pink tongue running over plush lips. You met his eyes again, this time with no more than half a meter separating you and you were glad your knees didn't buckle like they threatened to do.

"And what are you? Some angel that has fallen from heaven?" Your counter was weak, a bad example of what was usually some excellent flirting, if you dare say yourself, but it's all you could manage with those cerulean eyes staring down at you in interest.

He laughed, thank fucking god, and tilted his head to the side. "It must be fate that we met, is it not?"

"Buy me another drink and we'll see"

Somehow, it didn't surprise you that he simply raised his pointer finger and the server immediately rushed to prepare whatever order he'd signaled her.

"Unfair, I waited, like at least five minutes for some water," you complained, not really putting any real annoyance into it but pouting nonetheless for the effect.

It went a long way because the stranger stepped closer, up into the little bit of personal space one could have in an overcrowded club, and cooed, "What a shame. Who could ever pass such a lovely face and not serve you right away?"

"I don't know," you sighed and smiled at him sweeter than sugar, "I do know that we shouldn't let that tequila go to waste though"

"Then be a good girl and drink up"

Oh, yeah.

Suppose you hadn't already contemplated sleeping with him, that certainly solidified your decision.

This wasn't just fate, this must be compensation for all the shit you've been through this year, wrapped up nicely in 6 feet and more of dripping sex and sultry smiles.

Eyes locked, you both clinked the glasses together before throwing them back. You couldn't help it when your lashes flutter shut.

Once again, the tequila burned all the way down to your stomach, adding to the cocktail of drinks that lowered your inhibitions and made your core throb in excitement.

You would've asked him for salt and lemon if he hadn't looked so unbothered by the pure taste. His lips didn't twitch, while you're sure yours were pulled into a grimace.

"Thank you, Sir," the words left your mouth without a second thought.

Thinking, in general, started to become more of a theory than something you were willing to do tonight; much too exhausting if you could simply let your tongue run wild.

He rewarded you for that decision, for his eyes widened and he stepped even closer, now slotting one of those long legs - and fuck, was he really wearing leather pants? Who had access to your wet dreams?- between yours as he leaned down.

"I must say you caught my interest the moment I saw you on the dance floor," He placed a hand on the countertop, not touching you yet, though the invitation he gave you, the silent question for permission, spoke for itself.

The second move was on you to lure him in and you blinked up at him while you trailed your fingers over the arm, scratching hairless skin with the tip of your nails until it changed into the fishnet top and you placed the hand to rest on one strong shoulder. The red color of your nail polish made such a beautiful contrast to his fair skin that your mind conjured imagines of how they must look on other parts of him.

Surely, with the size of him…

Now that you initiated the contact, he drove forward with his second hand, and the large palm cupped your chin.

While the touch was hot in how it's delivered, so dominating, and fuck if that didn't send warm licks of pleasure down your spine, his hand itself was surprisingly cold.

The temperature in the club was almost unbearable, only manageable through refreshing drinks and a trip or two to the bathrooms, and the spikes of the cool touch fought the heat pooling in your body.

One of those silky locks of hair brushed your neckline, falling right into the cut out of your dress that his eyes shamelessly took in from his higher-up viewpoint.

You took a deep breath, maybe even pushed out your chest as he eyed it in the knowledge that the lace bra was showing through.

All you inhaled was the intoxicating smell of his cologne, vanilla (even though you suspected he is anything but...), and something sweet and without a doubt expensive.

You're addicted to it the moment it hit your nose and clouded your mind.

"Do you not believe that an appropriate thank you is in order?" he inquired; no, he demanded.

You decided to play dumb, not because you thought he's into that – on the contrary, he seemed the kind of man who admired eloquence and intellect rather than dullness – but because it's a game you both enjoyed playing.

There was intrigue in tip-toeing around what is most obvious (lust as well as the urge to rip each other's clothes off as soon as possible, maybe even a fuck in the bathrooms).

"I thought I already said thank you," you mused, pushing out your lower lip into a pout again, "and that lousy shot is hardly worth more than a few words. You can't expect something greater if there is nothing to thank for."

He raised a dark eyebrow – you wondered if he colored his hair or eyebrows – and the hand around your chin lifted your head to twist it right and left.

One smooth thumb brushed over the pout, and he clicked his tongue. "Now now, I would consider this greedy if you were not in the right. You poor thing must be exhausted after all the dancing"

His eyes flashed when yours widened; he really did notice you before, had watched you.

"Yes," he drawled as if he read your mind, and his lips curved into a smirk that flashed a row of perfect bright teeth, "I saw how you moved out there, how wanton you presented yourself. However, it did not escape my notice that you rebuffed anyone who dared to approach."

When you opened your mouth to say something, his finger swiped over your lip again. Without hesitation, you sucked on the fingertip, collecting a few drops of tequila that you made a show of swallowing.

The protest disappeared with it down your throat.

He was right, why deny it?

The way you danced was just an expression of how comfortable you felt in your own body, the rhythm provided by provocative music a tool to follow the movements.

Everything you did, you did for yourself, not for the men who attempted to touch you simply because they were captivated by the dancing. As if you would accept some clammy hands grabbing for you.

"Maybe it was wanton," you said after releasing his finger, but not without scratching your teeth over it.

His pupils dilated, his chest raised at a sudden inhale of air; he apparently underestimated you.

You nodded your head toward the dance floor, "maybe I came here to look for a good fuck, but it's my decision who I take and not theirs"

"As you should. Those boys who tried and failed miserably were amusing to watch. None of them were good enough for you, right, sweetheart?"

You hummed in agreement as well as disagreement. "I'm not searching for anyone good enough," you thought back to all the good-guys who had lured you in with promises of treasuring you only to become insufferable with their need to control in the end.

"Then what do you need?"

"I want someone bad," the tone in your voice was challenging, just like the stare you gave him. "I want someone who won't be afraid to break me"

There was a slight tug on your chin, his hand pulled you in slightly but any further without any movement from you, it would've cause a strain in your neck.

You craved it.

The blonde god, he must be, the thought became clearer with any passing second, a gift, a god, an angel, crushed his mouth against yours. There was a fleeting moment where you realized you didn't know his name, but then his other hand wrapped around your neck, and your teeth clashed, and you found yourself not caring one bit.

You're sure he wouldn't mind if you moaned "God" instead of his name. Maybe he would even get off to it.

Only one way to find out.

It turned out quite hard to manage saying anything at all, his kisses stole every last bit of oxygen, robbing you of the ability to string together words and turning you into a whimpering mess with his tongue and wandering hands.

He called you a devil yet here he was, corrupting you in a way that will ruin you for any other person.

"You taste divine," he sounded as breathless as you felt when you separated and dizziness cultivated in your lust-clouded head at the compliment rasped in that deep voice of his.

"Do not worry," he continued, smearing the string of spit that connected you over your plush lips, "If you allow me I will try my very best to break you"

Hell or heaven, wherever he was leading you right now, your need tripped over itself eagerly.

When was the last time you were this aroused? You felt yourself growing wetter and wetter, and that only through his words and kisses; the state he could push you into if he truly fucked you would be completely new territory, you realized.

A nod is all you could manage.

The last you saw on his face was a wide grin before he kissed you again, this time though, he moved on to your jaw and then your neck. You beared it to him by tilting your head, eyes falling on the ceiling where the neon lights hushed over black brick, coloring your sight while your face took on a flushed red.

The blond devil nipped and bit, sucked and scratched in a manner so animalistic you wouldn't have thought a surely unquestionably sophisticated man to be able to.

You whimpered again, and your hands rose to grab something, anything and you found that ponytail the most accessible. Your fingers twirled a few soft strands as you gasped when his teeth sunk into the delicate skin right where your neck and shoulder met, and the slight pain following wasn't unwelcome.

It made you feel alive.

You're close to pulling him away to the bathroom– an amused laugh to your side prevented that thought from festering any further.

"I'm away for one smoke and you just couldn' wait?"

Unable to think straight after the assault on your neck, it took a moment for you to come back to your senses that don't revolve around lips, kiss, bite, fuck, suck…

Your sight spun as you snapped your head back, nearly knocking your chin into the man still busy marking you up, unbothered that there was another man watching you and clearly waiting for an answer.

So you decided to do the only thing that must convince him to let go, and you pulled on his hair.

He growled, fucking growled, and his lips twisted, flashing his teeth again.

Your heart dropped into your wet panties until you found he wasn't pinning you to the floor with the hard stare but the new arrival.

"Did you not see that I was busy?" he snapped at the dark-haired man, and while you felt slightly scared he was going to rip his handsome head off, the man only sported an annoyed expression.

"Yes, exactly. If I remember correctly, we decided to wait until I get back?"

Decided, waited?

"You took too long"

The man threw his head back in a raspy laugh, "Incorrigible bastard. Will I have to sit you down with a toy to keep you busy while I'm away?"

The blonde turned back to you and smirked, "That will not be necessary as I am quite capable of finding my own toys"

"Hey!" you cut into the conversation, not amused that they talked as if you weren't right there, "I'm not a fucking toy!"

Both men turned to you now, towering over you in their height, and mustering you so intensely that you slightly squirmed under their gaze.

The man with salt and pepper hair chuckled. "I am so sorry, Darlin'. I hope Thranduil didn't play too hard?"

Considering that you still felt the scratch of his teeth on your neck and the wet spit he left there, you felt like some kind of chew toy one would throw their dog but nevertheless, you pushed your chin up high. "Nothing I can't take."

The blonde's, Thranduil's, hand on your waist pulled you into him possessively. "I told you there is some bite behind the pretty face," he smirked.

While it didn't escape you that this hinted to a previous conversation, a plan formed over you, it's the attractiveness of them that led you to turn a blind eye.

"Weren't you the one biting a minute ago?" The music made it hard to talk normally and you stood up on your tiptoes to yell the words, but all that it resulted in is a deep chuckle.

"Oh, I like you," the other man laughed as well.

You took him in, the tight pants that showed off strong thighs and the black and gold shirt with more buttons open than actually buttoned that presented muscles and hair leading down and oh–

"What a surprise," you said, looking up to meet his hungry eyes, "I find I like you too" You turned your head to Thranduil, who smirked and sent you a wink that had you blushing, "So how's this gonna work? I'm going to be blunt and say that five minutes ago I was convinced you and I were on the same page, what's with your friend?"

"Husband"

"Husband?!" you parroted, unconvinced yet when your eyes fell on their hands a gold ring flashed back at you from both fingers.

Heat curled in your body like molten lava at lustful and otherwise utterly inappropriate thoughts this provoked of these two married man having their way around your body.

Thranduil bowed his head lower again, playfully nipping at the part of your neck that surely was already bruising. "I have to admit that I promised Bard to wait for him to come back, though I found I could not follow through when I saw you approaching the bar."

You swallowed. Hard. Not that it helped your very dry throat.

Bard came closer, reclaiming your attention.

His face, more defined than Thranduil's, was adorned with a rugged layer of dark stubble, crow's feet framing his vivid green eyes when he smiled at you. He looked the picture of a soft soul, but you remembered that this couple was picking up a third partner on New Year's Eve, so you shouldn't judge a book by its cover.

There was some spice behind the old-armchair-and-book-vibes.

"Will that be a problem, Darlin'?" he asked in that ruff voice, posh and Welsh accent dripping over you.

A refreshment to hear that accent in this city, so enthralling in how it wrapped around you; especially that damn nickname. There was no way you would say no to him.. both of them if he called you Darling one more time.

You shook your head. "No. I think I'll just need a bit more liquid encouragement if I am to survive this night."

"Oh, what a shame," Thranduils lips left where they continued to suck and lap on your neck, peppering kisses, leaving bruises, and moved to your earlobe. His voice dropped as much into a whisper as the music allowed it, "I had my hopes on fucking you into heavenly spheres"

There went the last string of sanity holding you back.

Hearing a man who was seemingly hell-bent on avoiding abbreviations like "don't" and "can't" at all costs speak in such a filthy way was something you never knew you needed.

"I hope you can follow through with that," you trailed a hand over his smooth chest, collecting glitter on your way and smeared it over his throat where his adams apple bobbed, "because if you break that promise like you did the one with your husband, I will just have to let him finish the job"

Thranduil yanked you back into him, back into a kiss that seared itself into your memories and burned the touch, taste, and movement of his lips into every cell of your body.

It was almost aggressive how much teeth went into the kiss, how he bit down and all you could do was gasp and whimper.

Briefly, you thought of the poor people around you, because if all you wanted to do was get a drink and were confronted with one person devouring the other, you would be seething but right now you were being the one he kissed, whose sounds he swallowed and whose hands held you to him.

So fuck them.

With your senses heightened now that you wanted these men all over you, the sensation of Bard leaning in, hair tips tickling your neck as he licked Thranduil's throat, led you to pull away from the blonde. You watched as Bard sprinkled something flaky and white onto the spot wet with spit, and only when he lifted a shot glass the thought crystalized that he salted Thranduil for you.

"Come on," Thranduil's smirk taunted you just as much as his words, "What is another lousy shot? We even made it easy for you poor baby, after you could not take the first one easily"

Rolling your eyes at the mocking, you dove in to copy Bard. The salt sticking to his neck coated your tongue and you took longer than necessary to lick the skin free of it. The rush that this sent through you was exhilarating.

As soon as you were finished, your head got tilted backward firm and yet gently.

Rough fingertips cupped your neck and one thumb moved to press against your jaw, as you felt a solid chest in your back.

"Open wide, Darlin'," Bard ordered and encouraged you to follow him as his other thumb pushed between your teeth.

You obeyed, never once breaking eye contact with Thranduil and taking in his lust-blown pupils, as Bard poured the tequila into your mouth, directly down your throat. Then, while you pulled a grimace, shutting your eyes for a second, Bard turned you around, sandwiching you between them.

When you opened your eyes again, you saw the green slice of lemon between his teeth and following the wink he sent you; you knew exactly what was to come next.

Kissing Bard was very different from getting kissed by Thranduil.

His lips were slightly cracked, not soft and they tasted like smokey whiskey and cigarettes, with hints of coffee and lime instead of fruity cocktails and rose chapstick. Lifting one hand to his face, your fingertips grazed the rough beard growing on his sharp jawline, the stubble scratching you in a promising way.

While you had been surprised when Thranduil had kissed you, you eagerly answered Bard's kiss with fervor. Your mind already teetered on the brink of shutting down and you poured the desperation into his mouth with a moan.

He chuckled, drawing back just enough that he could spit out the lemon – sucked empty – before wiping his thump over your lips.

"Sweet thing"

There was a softness in that gesture, but only short-lived before he kissed you again. His hands trailed your body, coming to rest on either side of your neck again and even that slight of pressure loaded a million images through your head.

A second pair of hands joined him on you, it's confusing until a large body pressed into your back and you realized- it was only Thranduil.

Well, only…

It had been clear that the man could and would not accept being reduced to anything. He radiated an attitude that you would call bratty but with his expensive clothes, that rich perfume, and the wave of the hand that brought him drinks, aristocratic diva seemed more fitting.

His demanding character became clear when his hands set on your waist, immediately fingering the seam of your jeans, pulling you more into him by the belt loops.

You followed that tug, though Bard deepened the kiss to keep you by him, his tongue exploring your mouth and enticing you to breathlessly moan against his smiling lips.

Despite the loud music, Thranduil's voice was loud in your ear.

"As stunning as you right now, I can not help but imagine you squirming on our silk sheets– moving those bewitching hips of yours," Thranduil playfully took the burning tip of your ear into his mouth, "If you want to follow this invitation, of course"

"Whatever you just said," Bard broke away from you to look over your shoulder at his husband, "It better have been the idea of finally getting out of here" he pushed his hips against yours for you to feel the hard outline of him, "because I don't want to wait til the ball drops"

"Is that a metaphor?"

"Thran–" There was a warning edge in Bard's voice, and you felt Thranduil huff.

"Funny, how this old man can not take a joke as soon as he is aroused"

It's absurd how casually he said this while his hands slid down the front of your jeans, earning himself a gasp from you.

Unashamed as a man only his status can be, he toyed with the seam of your underwear, not caring one bit for the glare of his husband.

Your body arched into him, answering the question he had whispered earlier.

The only thing keeping you from getting down on your knees to worship him and his obviously talented fingers was the blaring music, reminding you that you were not yet somewhere private and very much on display.

You briefly wondered if these two were rich enough to simply pay their way out of a public indecency arrest. You wouldn't be surprised if they wouldn't even get arrested.

Since Thranduil made no sign of disengaging himself from you, you stepped away from him, right against Bard's chest.

"Shall we go? Your husband mentioned luxury sheets which I bet are more comfortable than a threesome on the dance floor"

The way out of the club presented itself as more difficult than you would have thought.

With Bard shoving a path through the dancing crowd in front of you, holding on to one hand, Thranduil breathing down your neck and you pausing now and again because "Oh my gosh, I love this song!" it took a lot longer than necessary.

Not that any one of you minded.

Lost in the mass of people shouting, dancing, and pushing you three closer together and the tequila in your bloodstream you ended up undulating to Nicki Minaj's 'Pound The Alarm' completely lost on the fact that both men had stopped to watch you.

The lights were colorful and sharp and in their hues, Bards and Thranduil's jawlines looked even sharper tinted red, blue, green, and whenever the disco ball flashed white across their faces the lust in their eyes caused shivers on every part of you.

Thranduil's hands moved to your lower abdomen, making it easy to grind against him as you raised your hands to Bard's strong shoulders.

Two huge pairs of hands gripped your waist from either side and held you steady and close to themselves, keeping everyone else from getting any nearer than they allowed.

"Fucking hell– Darlin' you drive me crazy!" Bard yelled over the music as you suddenly decided to drop down intact with the beat, dragging your nails over his torso.

You laughed, low and full-heartedly.

Coming up, his hands moved to the flushed skin that your shirt had revealed by riding up, holding you tight to sweep you away into a kiss.

One thigh, leather, and flexing muscles shoved itself between your thighs and you responded eagerly, grinding against it without a second thought.

Just when you thought you were ready to finally go, the song ended and faded into yet another pop hit. 'LoveGame' by Lady Gaga and intact of the low thumping beat, Thranduil's hips circle against your behind, pressing what was an impressive hardness into your arse while his deep voice switched from singing to humming the lyrics.

One of his hands spread over your abdomen, the other arm blindly reached for Bard and pulled him into a kiss right over your head.

Amid the mass of sweaty people and the multicolor array of colors flashing over Thranduil's blonde hair, the 2000s music blaring through the speakers and resonating in every cell of your fevered body, they looked hot enough for the porn industry to sign them under contract.

You were never making it out of the club.

You did make it out eventually, sweat dripping down your temple, Thranduil's chest in your back whenever you stumbled, his hands steadying you.

On what you assumed was an oversight or blind eye of the club owners the crowd had doubled in the last hour.

Far too many people joined the floor and even with Bard's commanding presence leading you it had been close to impossible to step forward and not swerve out of the way of someone drunk.

Outside, the line curved around the block, and those who waited or didn't get into the club or even just hung in groups celebrating on the streets blocked the whole sidewalk.

A number of fireworks were already soaring into the air, sent up there by early birds who couldn't wait until midnight – cheered up by loud excited screams and laughter as the dark night sky lit up here and there with colorful explosions.

Quite sobered up, the dancing had contributed to that, you stared at them.

"How the fuck are we supposed to get out of here?" you asked and crossed your arms in front of you; the winds were biting cold and you hadn't bothered bringing a jacket, "It's madness."

"We will just get a cab"

You barked out a laugh though Bard stayed completely serious.

"Wait, that wasn't a joke?" you rubbed your palms over the naked skin, still warm and thrumming with the afterglow of the unbearable heat of the club, although the cold fought hard and unfairly.

"No, sweetheart, it wasn't," Thranduil said, not bothered by the chaos of people pushing each other, waving their hands like they're trying to flag down a spaceship.

On this day, the chances for that to happen were more likely than actually getting a cab.

He took one step into the busy street, and you yelped, overcome by the shock that he just walked into fucking traffic, his long ponytail swaying with his steps.

Then, like movie magic, a car swerved to the side and stopped right next to Thranduil.

Bard pulled you along, your hand cradled to his chest so as not to lose you. Thranduil opened the door, gracefully sitting down behind the empty passenger seat.

You stumbled onto the back seat next to him, and mumbled a half-hearted "Hello" to the driver, who gave you a nod – a nod, an hour before midnight, from a cap driver, fucking miracles– before shut the plastic window close.

"Holy crap," you exhaled. "Is this what the high life's like? Getting drinks and cabs without any fucking effort?"

Despite the crude and cutting words swinging in their direction, Bard and Thranduil chuckled. The synchronized deep sound reverberated in the quiet cab, warming up the space instantly.

"Do you really think that this" – Thranduil languidly gestures to all of him – "takes no effort?"

Bard huffed. He leaned into you as if he wanted to whisper a secret, but didn't lower his voice: "We were supposed to be here five hours ago. Took him that long to figure out what to wear." He shot a teasing grin at his husband.

"Oh, I have had enough of your whining," In one elegant movement Thranduil folded one long leg over the other. The point of his boot caught your shin in a soft tap that drew your attention to him.

He smirked, one eyebrow raised. "If you are interested, though, I could show you what it is like to ride the waves of the high life"

"Is that a metaphor?"

"No," Bard's lips ghosted over your neck, peppering more kisses to the skin there, "A promise for an unforgettable high"

You were unable to think of what they could propose.. well, you could, but they wouldn't, not here in this cap, right?

Bard's legs were spread a little far apart and, fuck, the flickering lights of the city flying by highlighted a very prominent bulge that he made no effort of hiding. Was he going commando?!

Your eyes snapped back, burning a hole into the roof of the cab.

A hand fell behind you on the headrest at the same moment as Thranduil's cold fingers slipped onto your thigh.

Thranduil's hand snuck to your jeans and played with the button and zipper before,

Oh-

he opened your jeans and immediately slid his cold, long, slender fingers down your panties.

Oh, fuck

Your hips twitched into his hand and you had to bite down on your finger to muffle the gasp that itched behind your teeth.

Without a care in the world, Thranduil cupped your sex, mumbling something to himself under his breath that sounded like a "So fucking wet- for us?" and worked his middle finger into you.

Pulling it out again, he started circling your clit, smearing your own slick over it, moving right over the spot where your nerve endings were sparking white and hot and you shuddered uncontrollably.

The chill of his fingertips heightened your sensitivity. Still flushed all hot from the club, you instinctively arched upward, a soft gasp escaping your lips as Thranduil's fingers tapped against your swollen wet clit.

The noise prompted his gaze to lock onto yours.

Your gasp broke off as your hips nearly flew off the seat and it was only for the belt snapping tightly against your lower abdomen that your head didn't make contact with the roof.

That, and the arm Bard put around your shoulders. He held you down and gave you his biceps to let your head fall against something that wasn't the uncomfortable seatrest.

Your cheeks flushed under Thranduils scrutiny, as well as at the general scene and obscenity of everything, and a subtle smirk played on his lips.

"Do you enjoy that?" His voice was flirty, and while you want to retort that it should be very clear how much you liked his fingers fucking into you, you only managed a nod.

"Say it." He leaned forward, a teasing glint in his eyes. His fingers stopped, clearly waiting for you to obey his order. "Use your words, you still know how, right? I haven't even started, clearly there must be something you could tell me."

"Yes," your admission was barely a whisper, but it sufficed.

Thranduil hummed, using his other hand to open your legs as wide as the tight jeans allowed it before he worked two agile fingers into your throbbing cunt.

You stared at him through half-lidded eyes, watching his relaxed demeanor while fingering you open without caring about anything else.

The heel of his hand pressed into your pelvis, giving him a reasonably steady hold in the jolting cab so that he could hit a spot inside you with precision and with every, goddamn, perfect, thrust of his fingers that made you pant out.

"Thran-" the nickname you heard Bard call him slipped out unconsciously, it's the only thing you could pull out of the depth of your mind, "Thran.. please"

"Beggin' already?" Bard chuckled, "Darlin' you have seen nothing yet and here you are, beggin' to cum in the back of a cab."

"Bard you have no idea how fucking wet she is. She's dripping down my hand, squeezing my fingers, and fuck she's so tight," Thranduil muttered and as he slipped his other hand to the one slipping and sliding against your g-spot in a maddening relentless rhythm, he rubbed them over your folds.

He collected some of your wetness on those fingers, circling your clit again before pulling them away, out of your pants, and to your horror, he held them up into the air, inspecting how his fingers glistened in the city lights.

He rubbed them together, all right in the view of the rear back mirror of the cab driver, who – thank god – kept his eyes on the road and only turned up the radio in unspoken ignorance of what was happening in his car.

God, you hoped these men would tip him adequately.

"Here," Thranduil reached his arm out past your half-opened lips and for a moment you thought he was going to offer you his fingers, but he leaned further forward.

A gasp broke out of you as you watched Bard open his mouth and greedily took both fingers right between his lips, and.. sucked.

His eyes fell shut with a contented sigh as if he were tasting his favorite drink.

You saw his tongue run thoroughly over Thranduil's patiently waiting fingers, cleaning them off every last bit of you, and god, you wanted to be those fingers so damn bad at that moment.

Then he looked at you again. There was such a deep hunger in those eyes that would look beautifully between your legs, brown hair falling messily into his sight as he ate you out.

Meanwhile, Thranduil's fingers inside you moved harder and faster, curling to brush every sensitive spot of your walls, in, out, in, another curl, and then out.

You clenched your entrance in anticipation, the feeling of two of his fingers filling you this deliciously and continuously.

You were so so close, almost there–

"Shit, you're the sweetest. I think I'll eat you for breakfast tomorrow"

The abrupt halt of the cab barely registered for you; instead, it finally propelled you over the edge.

Thranduil's precise movement hit that spot inside you perfectly, crooking his fingers just right to brush against it. Combined with Bard's downright filthy promise, you nearly let out a scream as the powerful orgasm surged through you and you had to flex your muscles so you didn't continue riding his hand.

Thranduil, however, didn't stop, even though there was no way he didn't know you climaxed and he kept up the same pace, same fucking precision and pressure that your body convulsed around those long talented fingers and you couldn't even go anywhere, the seatbelt cut off your escape to the front and you were so far into the seat that wasn't an option as well, and it took a soft broken whimper, for words were long lost, for Thranduil to press a kiss to your neck before he sucked his fingers dry.

Your legs were still shaking as the elevator took you up to the penthouse at the top of the skyscraper the cab had stopped in front of.

Four mirrors gave you a splendid view of Bard's broad back as he crowded you against one of the walls, his thick fingers down your jeans again, as he mouthed hot kisses onto your neck.

"Gonna have to work you open," Bard grunted, his slippery fingers curling inside your cunt in a sinful squelch that sounded absurdly loud in the confined space of the elevator. "You're really too tight, don't wanna hurt you"

Thranduil watched the whole scene leaning at the railing, hands curled around the pole behind him as his hips twitched whenever you let out another whimper; your hands trying to get a hold on his husband's shoulders.

The ride was far too short, Bard's fingers not fast enough for you to reach another peak though the constant movement kept your head in such a nice empty mindless space that you didn't complain.

As soon as the doors opened Thranduil led the way, sauntering into the darkness illuminated by the first exploding fireworks. He pulled on the tie holding his hair up and flung it away let his hair flow down his back, ending just barely over his exquisite arse.

You didn't get to see much of the penthouse, all three of you were very eager to take this party finally somewhere comfortable and you only made out a giant white couch in front of a fireplace, an open kitchen with two glasses, one crystal with golden stains of whiskey, and the other high, the rim still dripping red wine, and a few bookshelves.

"You can get the full tour tomorrow," Bard said while you two kicked away your shoes, leaving them behind on the dark wooden parquet.

You stumbled over his left sneaker and halted in your tracks at the offer. While you had considered his promise of breakfast a spur-of-the-moment chit-chat, it now settled in your head that this wouldn't be like any one-nightstand you had in the past.

This observation only solidified as Bard caught your hand and raised it to press an open-mouthed kiss to your palm. "Do you need anything before we go into the bedroom? Any wishes or no-gos? Safeword?"

"Red," you immediately answered, and he nodded in acknowledgment, "and no, well– maybe hold me a bit afterward?" You blushed at the question though this should be the least embarrassing thing after all these two did to you in the span of a few hours. You continued to ramble, "And sometimes I cry, so.. you don't have to stop then. Sometimes I'm overwhelmed but you can continue your.. thing. Don't bother, I'll be fine on my own–"

Bard's eyebrows scrunched together the more you babbled, the look in his eyes becoming more confused until he shushed you with a quick kiss.

"Darlin', there is no need to explain what you want or don't want. If this is what you need then we won't question those demands," his eyes wandered over your face, making sure you were listening; which you were, heart pounding fast in your chest.

"And it's important you don't push yourself just because of us. It's not our intention to use you for a simple release. Thranduil and I don't take whoever is the first best, especially not to our home. We're looking for someone who suits us, with whom we feel completely comfortable and that should also be equally important to you."

You trusted them both, Bard as well as Thranduil.

The fact that Bard was asking you, nevertheless listening and responding to you was feeding something very primal.

They had done this before, unlike you. They had experience in this, but you were willing to learn, to submit yourself to these imposing men who surely would change something inside you forever.

The pride you felt at his admission of choosing you specifically mingled with the need to get this perfect man inside you quickly, especially now that he said such meaningful and reassuring words.

You nodded and croaked out a soft: "Alright, then please hold me after we're done" which he rewarded with another soft yet sensual kiss.

"Good girl"

Then his hands traveled south and slapped your ass so that your hips flew towards him.

"Now, let's not keep Thran waiting any longer. He tends to get a bit… impatient if left on his own for too long, as you've probably noticed."

Bratty.

You were so on the money earlier.

With that as well as the guess that the blonde was more kinky than the vanilla of his perfume.

At that moment the deep voice of his called out from down the hall.

"I swear, if you two started without me, I will fuck you until neither of you can walk for a week!"

Bard chuckled, then caught your widened eyes.

"He's joking," he said and you let out a relieved breath.

Bard pulled you along, a wink thrown over his shoulder.

"Mhm, partly; he won't fuck me tonight."

You needed a deep breather to ready yourself for what was about to happen, then you nearly tripped over your own feet as you raced after him through the dark hallway and to the only opened door.

You crashed fully into Bard, who for whatever reason, stood right in the doorframe of their bedroom.

"It seems Thranduil got tired of waiting," he chuckled and you wondered what he could mean when he turned sideways.

Your eyes instantly fell onto Thranduil, spread out on the enormous bed in the corner of the room– completely naked except for black, very tight boxers.

There was no air in your lungs, not a single breath left to take as you drank in the sight of him, fair and marble skin shining in the moonlight that fell through the big window next to the bed; the remaining glitter gave his body an unearthly glow. His hair fanned out all over the pillows, silver against grey, moving with him as he lazily lifted his head to stare at you.

There was an indescribable beauty in this man, he could lounge in the bed, his long legs opened in an invitation that you yearned to take, and his lean yet softly defined body posed as if he was waiting for someone to draw him.

"There you are," the corner of his mouth twitched into his smirk, "Strip"

His words, spoken in a gentle tone, boomed loud in your ears.

Your hands flew to your jeans in no second, though they were stopped by Bard, who covered them with his larger, rougher ones.

"No, Darlin', let me"

He stood behind you, taking over the job of undressing you. He did it much slower than you would have, not ripping everything apart in a hurry to obey the command of the blonde whose eyes were heavy on your body, taking in every bit of skin that got revealed.

Bard unbuttoned your jeans first, then his large and warm hands rubbed over your arms.

"Are you cold, sweetheart?"

You shook your head. "No, not cold. I– I feel like I'm burning up"

It was the truth, and nothing but the full, honest truth; you felt as hot as you did in the club, though the reason wasn't the hundreds of people and the alcohol but rather the sight of Thranduil, whose hands trailed over his own body and teasingly played with the waistband of his underwear.

Bard followed your fixated gaze to his coyly smiling husband.

"Should we turn down the heating? We would not want you melting away," Thranduil blinked his long lashes at you in faux-concern. He must've known the goosebumps covering your skin were his doing.

You would've rolled your eyes if you were able to look somewhere else than Thranduil. The man had to be magical, how else could you explain the spell he put you under if not for some supernatural powers?

"Stop the teasing, Thran," Bard cut in, slipping his hands under your shirt and kissing your shoulder. You melted into his touch, comforted that he took care of you like this when he continued, "This poor sweet thing hasn't even all her clothes off. It would be a shame to make her blush like this and not see it"

"Oh, and who's fault is that? Certainly not mine, I have been waiting so long I was close to wrapping things up myself"

Bard pulled your shirt over your head, covering your sight long enough for a wave of braveness to surge through you. "I sure hope you wrap it up," you said and heard both of them snicker.

"Do not worry," Thranduil began.

"There is enough protection for weeks," Bard finished and the band of your bra snapped against your skin.

Despite the warmness of the room your nipples puckered as soon as the lace fell away, growing hard under the avid eyes, cerulean and green, so different yet similar in the way both are dominated by the blackness of their pupils.

Bard's hands came up to your front and he cupped your breasts first tenderly, mapping out how perfectly they fit into his large palm, then rougher as his fingers found the hard buts of your nipples and rubbed them between them until every pinch had your legs trembling and you whimpering.

You cried out, body bucking on its own.

"Oh how nice," Thranduil's comment was full of sarcasm, followed by a click of his tongue against teeth, "Why, let me lay here and play all on your own, why not? After all, I am nothing but pure decoration"

Bard huffed a puff of hot air onto you, "Grow a pair of tits like this and maybe I will get to you first"

Thranduil's dark eyebrows raised to his hairline, passing an unspoken threat that had Bard scoff before he grabbed the waistband of your jeans. He pulled them down slowly, getting on his knees as he did and you were acutely aware of how wet your panties were when you feel his lips kiss your ass.

"This must be uncomfortable," he murmured, holding one leg to help you step out of the jeans. He kneaded your thigh, fingertips against muscles and flesh, before moving on to do the same on your other leg.

He used the moment where you lifted the second leg, to dive his hand to your cunt again, dragging his knuckles over the dark-colored patch, and he laughed as you buckled into the touch. "Oh, the fun we'll have"

Finally, undressed to your panties that cling to your crotch like a second skin, you were free to walk toward the bed. You would've lied if you said you didn't swing your hips a little bit, relishing the raspy groan this evoked from Bard.

Feeling like you should await further commands you stopped (un)patiently when your knees hit the mattress.

Thranduil's lips curved into a devilish smirk at this sign of submission.

He let his legs fall open wider, waving in an elegant gesture into the space in between. "Come here, sweetheart"

The bed was raised and you rose to your tiptoes and, making sure your eyes were trained on Thranduil, you crawled over the mattress, knees digging into the silk duvet he had promised you.

He reached out as soon as he could, one hand curving around your neck to pull and you landed directly on him, legs spread on either side of his thighs, hands somehow, despite their nervous trembling, found their place against his collarbones, standing out from his broad chest rather delicate.

Not that you hadn't suspected and expected him to be big, but, fuck, he was long and hard, a pulsing pressure against your stomach.

"Be a good girl and remove this unnecessary fabric, will you?" Thranduil whispered and you scrambled to lose your panties, throwing them off into the distance only to turn again and find him smirking. "I meant my boxers, but it fills me with joy seeing you this eager"

Lowering your head to hide your laughter, you grabbed his boxers. He lifted his hips just barely for you to pull on the black boxers, rolling them over his tight ass, and after giving you a loving pat on the head, he crossed his arms behind his head, relaxing into the pillows.

His cock sprung free from the containment of the tight boxers, twitching as it hit his abdomen and you felt your throat dry out.

Of course, he was smooth everywhere; not one bit of hair covering the flushed beauty of him.

You sat up, hands pushed into his flexing thighs, to take him all in. No one should look this perfect, this utterly ridiculously beautiful, right? There should be something on him, a scar, a mole, anything to prove he wasn't straight-up carved out of marble, but you found nothing.

You glared at him as you sat down a bit lower, ass in the air, and spit into your hand before you wrapped it around his cock. The sight of his size had your mouth water, and seeing how your fingers couldn't meet had your cunt clench around nothing.

No way any of their preparation had been enough for this intimidating masterpiece of Mother Nature's creation.

"Tell me, how is it fair that you are rich and have a dick like that?" you asked and just as Thranduil opened his pretty lips for probably another witty answer, you interrupted him by letting his cock slide over your tongue deep into your throat until you gagged around him.

Whatever he wanted to say was forgotten.

Instead, Thranduil groaned a low: "Fuck" and threw his head back.

You wanted to see him come undone, to unravel him until he lost this bratty attitude and reduce him to that wild behavior he had shown in the club.

You had the feeling that that's only possible if he thought he had the upper hand.

You bobbed your head, taking him a bit past what you could manage without gagging before lifting your head again.

"Use me," you said and his eyes flew open.

"What?"

Cocking your head, you shot him a confused look, while spreading his precum over the head of his cock with your thumb. "I said," – you spit again, mixing it and coating his dick further – "Fuck - my - mouth"

Every word was punctuated with a kiss to his slit, and you swore you could see his eyes darken further; black taking over blue – desire fought whatever held him back to fucking give into whatever you offered.

Behind you, Bard swore nearly breathlessly: "Fuck me" though you stayed focused on Thranduil.

"Are you sure?" his voice was raw, his facade of composure cracking ever so slightly.

"Wouldn't ask if I wasn't"

His hand was behind your head in seconds, drawing you down his cock again and you opened your mouth wide to not hurt him. He pushed you down until you choked on him and although your eyes watered, you couldn't take them away from the sight of his mouth and the low throaty groans that passed the opened lips.

The lack of air cut off your moan, the tip of his cock bullying the back of your throat just barely short of painful. Reminding yourself to breathe through your nose, you inhaled deeply.

"Good girl," Thranduil's hips bucked, pulling back until he was only half-lodged in your throat, "Just like that, fuck"

He gave an experimental thrust, keeping his sharp eyes on you, his hand in your neck, ready to stop if he saw any discomfort, but all you showed him was how you choked on spit and salty precum.

"Oh, you sweet girl. Behaving so well," his voice was ruined, and he thrusted again, punching away the little breath left in the tiniest space that wasn't occupied by his thick cock.

This was by far the first time you have ever given a blowjob, but it was a first to let someone use you like this. Controlling when you could suck or when you just had to take what he gave you.

And oh– how much you loved it.

So much that you wanted to rub your thighs together only to be stopped by rough hands grabbing them.

A confused sound left you, no more than a choked "Huh?" vibrating around Thranduils cock continuing to fuck into you, just like you had asked him, hindering you from turning to see what Bard was up to.

He didn't leave you wondering for long, just as Thranduil's thrusts took on a sharper edge, hitting the back of your throat every time, filling your mouth like no man ever had, Bard's flattened tongue licked through your exposed cunt and the moan you let out sounded so pornographic you surprised yourself.

"Do it again," Thranduil took in the sight of your wet lips, the drool dripping out of the corners of your mouth, his cock disappearing so deep inside you that felt him in your lungs, "Fuck, Bard, do that again now!–"

He talked for you, praising Bard as he licked your pussy again, this time using his fingers to pry you open further and there was the delicious scratch of his beard stubbles, burning on your skin.

You cried out, tried to do, stopped by Thranduils cock stuffing your mouth again and again, his hands curled around your neck as if he wanted to feel the imprint of himself pushing through.

"Prettiest woman out there," Thranduil groaned. His thump reached over to stuff some of the spit back into your mouth, opening your jaw up impossibly wide.

Bard's tongue was as precise as their fingers have been, covering your folds, fucking into your hole and sucking on your clit with expertise that no man should be allowed to have. Two of his wet fingers slid into you while his tongue mercilessly attacked your clit, the other hand buried itself in the soft flesh of your ass, kneading and pulling, opening you up further for his face.

"C'mon," his voice was muffled by your thighs, drowning you in his accent while he drowned his tongue inside your opening, circling the rim in maddening figures, "Give me one more, gorgeous."

Electricity flowed through your body, hot tingles of nothing but fire spreading into your fingertips wrapped around the inches of Thranduil's cock that didn't fit into your mouth, to your nipples that brushed against his muscular thighs.

"Fuck Bard, please–"

Not sure what you were begging for, for his tongue to stop the attack on your clit, for his fingers constantly finding that spot inside your spongy walls that had you wailing and rolling your hips into his face, or for him to get on with it and get you over that build-up.

Bard kept going, somehow finding a rhythm that matched the one his husband hammered down your throat and you were helplessly stuck trying to hold on.

Until you lost the fight to keep yourself upright. Your hands slipped on Thranduil's thighs, your body crashed down and if it wouldn't have been for his quick reaction of pulling himself out of you, you would for sure have impaled your head on his still hard and throbbing cock.

Instead, it just wetly slapped your face as you collapsed into his lap.

Bard's rough hands grip your thighs, blunt nails digging into soft flesh as he maneuvered your legs around to give his head more space.

The other pair of hands, soft, delicate, Thranduil's, cupped your face, lifting it gently yet demanding, giving him the perfect view of your cute face, all scrunched up as you gasped and mewled, and your backside, ass arched into the air under Bard's commanding hands.

"Such a beautiful thing," Thranduil mused.

His fingers danced over your cheeks until he used another whine, another desperate moan when Bard alternated between open-mouthed, sloppy kisses and using the point of his tongue, to slip his thumb into your mouth.

As soon as he did, you closed your lips around him. Staring up at him, begging him silently for a release only Bard could give you, you started sucking on his finger as you would have done on his cock if not for the stars dancing in your field of vision.

Thranduil tutted, "So needy as well. Bard, if you were so kind as to stop, I can not stand seeing her this distraught. I think you are working her up far too much"

"Nooo! Please, please, I'm alright, I'm– please, so close," The desperate scream that came out of your mouth at his words was probably loud enough to alert the neighbors, followed by a cry and sob as Bard kissed your clit one last time.

"Of course, babe" The words were muffled, spoken directly into your dripping cunt.

Which he then shuffled away from, beard stubble scratching you, his fingers letting loose on your thighs.

"No, no please, please," you were already babbling, reaching behind you in a sad effort to force him back between your legs, "Please, I'll be good, please!"

"You sweet thing," Thranduils arms wrapped around your middle, pulling you up into a kiss, "I think–" his voice dropped deeper and you heard the rustle of plastic, felt Bard's hand rolling the condom over Thranduil's cock pressing into your stomach, "–you have behaved so well, you deserve a reward"

You nodded fast, legs spread wide apart sitting on his thighs and your cunt stretched open.

Staring into his eyes, you saw how much his pupils were dilated, how he only watched you, only saw you.

You could see and feel his chest lift as his cock slid through your folds, finding you drenched from all their playing around.

"Eyes stay on me"

Your pussy was wet enough for the tip of his cock to slip right into you and right away you wanted to shut your eyes at the sensation of him spearing you open.

"Please–," you gasped, and tried to move your hips to get more of him into you than just those few inches, but he didn't budge, didn't loosen his grip on your waist, "Please, Thranduil. Green, my color is green, fuck me, I can take it!"

"Yes, and if not," his voice was back to the self-controlled powerful tone, "I'll make you take it, sweetheart."

Thranduil let go of you the second he snapped his hips upwards and suddenly, you were split open.

You keened as his cock sunk into you in one fast, swift, hard movement. There was a burn, in your thighs as you flexed them, in your throat as you cried out, in your pussy at the intrusion of his long cock.

When Thranduil bottomed out, his head shoved against your cervix, the whole length forcing you to stretch, to make room, and fuck you wanted your pussy to be carved into the shape of that perfect cock.

It should've been uncomfortable, but you only groaned as you appreciated the second he gave you to relax while making room where they shouldn't be some.

"Fuck–" he moaned, "you are tight, so fucking tight"

Bard moved next to you, and you could only get one short look at his naked body, the brown hair coating his muscular chest, the happy trail leading down to his thick cock, before Thranduil began to fuck you.

His strokes were fast, hips snapping into you and nearly throwing you off his lap at the speed and brute force and you fell into his chest, clinging to his arms.

This, him rutting into you like your pussy could quench a year-long thirst at a punishing pace, this was surely the epitome of getting fucked. How he knew how to fuck you just right, hitting your g-spot with every single thrust was a riddle you couldn't and wouldn't want to solve; not with his cock penetrating you hard enough you swore you felt him in your throat as you called for him through moans.

You had no chance of even trying to meet his thrusts, not while he pounded into you like a madman.

"F-Fuck, good fucking girl– so tight," Thranduil groaned out his gritted teeth, his face turning a beautiful shade of rosé, "Even tighter than you, Bard–"

Bard, you totally forgot he was even there, laughed and moved on the bed again, slipping back behind you, "Yeah? Tell me more"

And you wanted to scream, to yell at them to stop talking in words that only added to the overstimulation, that spun around your head without meaning because how could anything have ever any meaning more important that Thranduil's cock fucking you a little further, a little deeper.

"So tight, s-so hot, clamping down on me like this sweet, fuck, pussy doesn't want me to leave"

"Mhm, I can see that," Bard hummed and his hands caressed your shaking thighs, before leaving his mark on your ass with a soft slap that had you wailing into Thranduil's shoulder.

It was too much and not enough at the same time.

You were going to lose your mind like this, fucked to near-unconsciousness.

"More, I–" your speech was slurred, brain scrambled into loose words hanging onto thin threads.

You tried to hold on to Thranduil but it was impossible with your sweat and the glitter covering him.

Luckily for you, Bard found the time to stop ever kindly toying with the pearl of your clit to lean forward.

"Put them inside his hair, Darlin'. He doesn't mind" There was a lopsided smirk on his face that you could barely see out of the corners of your eyes.

You still hadn't stopped looking at Thranduil.

The attempt to tentatively guide your hands to his head was prevailed by another particular hard thrust, and your fingers slid through blonde locks, grabbing onto them as you fell back down on Thranduil's cock.

You tugged on them much harsher than intended.

Thranduil's eyes blew wide.

You wanted to apologize when his lips quivered and his hips snapped into yours even faster.

Quickly you reached for him again, nails scraping his scalp as you readjusted, gripping more, much tighter.

"That's it, Darlin'.. that's my girl," Bard leaned back, and not shortly after his fingers were back on your clit, tapping intact of Thranduil's thrusts.

It was only a matter of seconds until the pleasure became too much.

Thranduil's hips fell into a stutter as your walls clenched around him; even for someone with his stamina the heat of you surrounding him, and your sweet moans drove him into a raging need to imprint the shape of his cock inside you.

"F-fuck.. Thran–" you whimpered, hands fisting his hair, trying to get a literal grip as reality started to shift around you.

Outside, close to the windows, there was a whistle as the first of many fireworks greet the New Year and just as Thranduil pushed you over the edge, your whole body shaking and tensing up as you screamed his name, the darkness of the sky exploded into an arrangement of thousands of colors.

The white fuzziness that enveloped your vision transformed into creeping darkness at the edges.

Your eyelids closed shut as you descended into blissful oblivion.

When you came back to yourself, it was to the murmur of deep voices mixed into the loud bangs of fireworks.

For a moment you had no idea where you were, enveloped in a haziness inside your mind, but the gentle nudge of something against your lips forced you to open your eyes.

There were two faces very close to yours, was the first realization.

Then, following up, you let out a giggle.

"Don't look so concerned, I'm fine," you greedily took a sip from the water bottle that the very flushed blonde held in his hands.

"You said it was possible you would cry, not bloody pass out on Thran's dick!" Bard wiped the drops you couldn't swallow away from the corner of your mouth with one hand and continued to rub your thighs with his others.

You hadn't noticed they were still shaking.

"Yeah, that never happened before," you shot a smirk up to Thranduil, "Never had a guy fuck me like this as well"

He snorted into the bottle of water, "Believe me, I never had someone lose their consciousness on me before as well. I came shortly after you and when I opened my eyes to find you completely out of it I nearly passed out on the spot as well"

"Would have been quite a shock for you," you said and let your head fall to the side to look at Bard, "both of us orgasm into fainting"

"Not funny, Darlin'," Bard warned, though he laughed as you stuck his tongue out at him.

Stretching your hands over your head and raking them into the air until your bones cracked, you sighed happily. Blissfulness was all you felt after cumming harder than you ever had.

For the first time, you could really enjoy the sight of both men in the nude, you hadn't had the chance to appreciate how fit Bard was while Thranduil had fucked you and you reached out to run your hands over his chest. Twirling some of the hair on there, traveling lower to scratch nails down his happy trail like a route description straight to his still-hard cock.

Stopping shortly before his pubic hair, you glanced up at him, a coy smile playing your lips. "You haven't cum yet." It was much a purr as it was an invitation, your legs falling open right when Bard's hand came to a still on your thighs.

He shook his head, chestnut hair swaying with the movement. "No, Darlin', no! You just passed out. I won't force myself on you. Thran can suck me off or I'll take care of it myself if you want to rest"

Your heart contracted in adoration for this man, and an embarrassing amount of slick gushed out of you.

"Bard," you said, voice wavering as you suppressed a whimper. Somehow this turned you on even more, "Bard, there is enough time to be this caring later but please–" Once again you were begging, and the man wasn't even inside of you yet, "please fuck me"

On the other side of you, Thranduil chuckled, "Insatiable, I knew it. Bard is right though, if you are not well, then he can fuck me"

Slowly but surely you were losing your patience.

As sweet as their concern was, the fact that these two gods were both sitting naked in front of you, one sweaty because he just knocked you out, and the other hard as steel and flushed, only aroused that much more.

Without saying anything else, you maneuvered yourself in the bed until you could rest your head on Thranduil's stretched legs and angled your legs in an invitation.

"Come on you stud. It's the new year after all"

The brunette scanned you with a piercing gaze, you could see him struggling with himself, but the twitch of his cock told you what he'd decided before he nodded.

"Thran, condom please"

You giggled again, excitement and the need to be catapulted to new heights spreading warmly in your stomach.

As Bard put the condom on, you wiggled around, your hand on the move to beat time, but Thranduil reached over you.

He caught your wrist before you reached your center, grasping it with his much larger hand and pulling your arm back with him enough that it forced your shoulders up, a "Tze, tze, tze" admonishing the behavior.

"Impatient brat, make up your mind!" he hissed and tugged some more until you whined, "Feel free to use those pathetic little fingers, knowing they will never fill you the way Bard could" Now that Thranduil knew you were on the same page, his voice dropped into that rebuking tone that left you whining and pouting.

He was so good, so fucking mean in the right amount you never knew you needed a man to act in bed.

"I just wanted–"

"I know baby," he cooed, and patted your cheek, "you just need your cunt to be filled, right? Just need to be stuffed full. Bard will do that for you, no need to worry your pretty head about it"

"That's right, Darlin'," Bard shuffled in between your legs, hooking them both over his thighs as he leaned over you. His cock landed on your abdomen, pressing against your pulsating clit, "Tell me what you want," he grabed himself, guiding it slowly toward where you leaked for him, completely drenched from the orgasms they had already given to you.

"I can go slow, or I can go fast"

You contemplated for a moment and lift the free hand to stroke over his handsome face. His beard tickled the inside of your palm, the chestnut waves silky as the sheets.

"Slow," you whispered, "I want you slow first"

"Alright," he gently nudged his nose against yours before capturing your lips in a kiss.

Although you were still sensitive, still pulsing and throbbing due to Thranduil (who caressed your face and your neck, having let to of your hand to arrange the pillows in his back for more comfort), you relished the stretch and sting of Bard as he guided his cock into you.

He was thicker than Thranduil, not by much but that inch made itself known, splitting you open heavenly so. You gasped into the kiss, giving up the fight of tongues to swallow back the drool that collected the further Bard pushed inside you.

It's just a little bit, one inch at a time, but you cried out all the same.

The thrum of excitement pulses, leaves you trembling and begging in incoherent moans and whimpers.

You could feel him throbbing inside you.

"Good girl," Thranduil's praise washed over you, chilled fingers tweaking one of your nipples as a reward for the exhausted smile you gifted him at that, "Has anyone ever told you that you make just the sweetest sounds? Give me one more?"

He twisted your other nipple; you moaned again.

"Fuck, Thran, you were so right," Bard grunted, his fingernails digging into where he held you by the waist, leaving crescent moon-shaped imprints that you hoped wouldn't fade for a while, "She's fuckin' tight; how are you still this tight?"

"For you," you fisted your hands into his hair again, hoping he enjoyed it just as much as his husband, "J-just for you, everything, ngh– for you"

With one last push, he sheated himself in you completely, filling you up just like Thranduil told you he would, stretching your walls thin.

You felt him everywhere, in every part of your body.

Every nerve, every tendon, every cell burns and was lit aflame, sizzling hot fire licking your skin and bursting when he dragged himself out, leaving barely the tip and pushed back in.

His cock nestled deep inside you, Bard stilled.

There was a silent vigilance in his mesmerizing green eyes. "Talk to me beautiful, is this alright?"

You nodded and pulled him down on his hair into another kiss. "Yes, god, yes"

That's all he needed to hear and while licking over your lips, entangling your tongue with his playfully, he set a slow rhythm. Nevertheless the tempo, he brushed that spot inside you with every stroke.

Pins and needles all over your skin, goosebumps wherever Thranduil's fingers wandered.

There were more fireworks, lightening up the bedroom filled with gasps and grunts, whispers of encouragement and begging. The sound of Bard's hips snapping into yours, the wet squelch of his cock driving itself inside of your pussy again and again.

"There we go," he murmured and positioned his arms on either side of you, using the balance it gives him to roll his hips instead of just thrusting. Mumbling between kisses, he talked against your lips: "Aren't you just the sweetest? Darlin', I couln' believe my eyes when I saw you in that club, shining far brighter than anyone else"

He swallowed your gasps with kisses, nipping at your lip then moved to your earlobe, "You are so perfect, letting us fuck you like this"

In one swift movement, he dragged Thranduil towards him, long blonde hair curling at the edges hanging into your vision in a starlight waterfall. Their kiss left you breathless and you would have felt left out if Thranduil didn't lean down further to you, kissing your lips upside down.

This time it was his fingers that found your slick, poor and abused clit. A couple of firm circles had your hips bucking up to meet Thranduil's fingers, crying out for both men in a mix of their names.

You whimpered as the next orgasm build up fucking fast, your breath catching in your throat.

"Bard," your hips moved on their own, trying to get him to fuck you faster, "Please– more, I need m-more,"

"Darlin'," Bards forehead pressed against yours, his grunts strained as if he was holding back himself but kept the same and steady pace you asked him for, "You sure?"

Grabbing his hair again, you weaved your fingers through it, tousling it haphazardly, achieving nothing but adding to its wild appearance.

When you met his gaze again, his eyes were fixed on you, it felt electric and charged, akin to lightning, causing you to momentarily forget to breathe.

"Yes"

He obeyed instantly, with the next thrust you screamed at the pure force of it. Bard wa spiraling the same way you were, becoming erratic as his teeth grazed over your collarbone, biting every mark they have left on you.

Raising your legs to keep him close, your ankles locked behind his back, heels digging into the tight muscles of his ass. The new angle allowed him to drive impossibly deep, reaching pleasure points inside you you didn't knew existed before him.

The pleasure was blinding, high electricity running through your veins and into every part of your body and soul. This was nothing you have ever experienced before, not with anyone and they made sure it would never feel like this with anyone ever.

Bard, feeling how your walls clenched around him, fluttering and pulsating, begging him to stay inside, sucked on your nipple, hard.

"I need you to come, fuck. Let me feel this pussy come, I'm right there with you," he rasped, voice like gravel, leaving you to scream for him, head knocking into Thranduil's legs, who dared to add to the crescendo of your pleasure and pressed down on your clit.

You found yourself gripping the bed covers, fingers twisting, in an attempt to anchor yourself, sobbing and shaking.

Instead, the coil inside you snapped.

Soaking Bard's cock choking and sobbing, tears spilling out of the corners of your eyes as every limp of you tensed up, he pushed you over the edge, his moans in your ear the most erotic thing.

You felt Bard following you, felt him spilling inside the condom, his cock twitching inside of you as he reached his peak moaning and burying himself to the deepest point, hips flushed close against yours, still rolling and shoving into you.

Moments of silence and heavy breathing followed. Of broken sobs, hushed murmurs of praise, even more affirmations.

Thranduil scootched closer to you, laying down next to you while Bard's weight on top of you was just what you needed. The heaviness of his much larger frame and Thranduil's long arms wrapped around you held back the cold that threatened to take a hold of you as the shivers of pleasure subsided.

"Gods," Bard exhaled, chest moving, pressing more into you. "That was something"

"Happy New Year" Thranduil rumbled.

Minutes passed, more fireworks exploded, celebrations of the New Year while you weren't even sure you even knew what time was anymore.

Bard tried to move, though your legs must have cramped for they felt disconnected to your body.

"Darlin'," he dropped another kiss to your neck, laughing low as your head lolled to the side.

"Mhm-mhm," you groaned, eyes still shut close, "Stay"

His lips moved to your ear, continuing to bathe you in soft kisses that leave you floating in that blissful headspace. "I know, I know–"

Thranduil's hands cupped your face, caressing your glowing cheeks and wiped away the loose tears that rolled over them. "Aftercare first, then cuddling," he whispered and cradled your head, massaging the spot in your neck that started to ache after Bard had folded you in half.

Despite knowing he was right, that you needed to use the bathroom, the warmth their bodies provided held you back.

You whined, arching your back into Bard's chest as he pried your legs away and slowly pulled himself out of you, stopping when your hips twitched at the overstimulation and only continued after a soothing kiss.

As soon as he left to stand up, tying up the used condom and going into the ensuite bathroom, Thranduil's steady hands on your back helped you sit up on the edge of the bed, where he wrapped the covers around your shoulders and gently tapped your nose, before scratching his nails over your head.

"You did very well, sweetheart," One finger tipped your chin up. "Thank you, you are a wonderful partner."

Thranduil, crouched to your level in front of you, still naked as the day he was born, simply picked you up. Legs folded over one arm, your head fell against his glittery chest that was covered in red streaks of where your nails had scratched him.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up"

The afterglow of the very much fantastic sex lulled all three of you in a comfort that blurred the barriers of you being a stranger in their home, laughter and giggles as the shower washed away sweat and glitter.

While there was a liveness to massaging soap into hair, hands rubbing away soreness and splashing water around until the mirror was all but fogged up and steam filled the entire bathroom, the exhaustion of the night caught up close after Thranduil dressed you in one of Bard's large sweaters.

Smelling like wood shavings, pine and toothpaste, hair still damp and eyes dropping close even though you tried to stay awake, Thranduil carried you to the bed.

The sheets were changed, encasing you in laundry detergent and brushing against your naked legs as you let yourself be placed on the pillows.

Outside, the world still celebrated and you did as well, in your own way.

There was a shuffle, a murmur of voices, then the bed dipped on either side as Bard climbed to your right side and Thranduil to your left, leaving not much room between all of you, legs entangling with each other, more giggling until everyone lied down comfortably.

Face tugged under Bard's chin, one arm of his reaching over your head so that Thranduil could nestle his face into it and the blonde wrapped around your back, you were surrounded by something you couldn't put into words.

"Maybe– maybe you can stay for breakfast and lunch," Bard's low words were murmured with a deep sigh, his other hand sliding down under his sweater, resting just below where your heart sung contenly.

"And dinner," Thranduil added and you heard him kiss Bard's hand.

"No talky-talky," you snuggled your face deeper into Bard, nose bumping into his neck, "But I would like that, very much"

Just as you fell asleep, held tightly by them both, you could hear them exchange quiet I love you's and you smiled, feeling their love seep deep into your bones.

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seakicker · 1 year

Text

☆ My Next-Door Neighbor is an Annoying Older Woman Who Constantly Bothers Me

☆ between: college au!scaramouche x milf!reader

☆ synopsis: scaramouche insists he doesn’t want to fuck the milf living next door, but all his friends think he doth protest too much.

☆ word count: 10.5K words

☆ a/n: like with my venti x milf!reader fic over on ao3, this is supposed to give a sort of doujinshi vibe, hence the embarrassing title and the lunacy of some ideas like milf!reader going outside in a super sheer shirt. hopefully you feel the doujinshi vibe i was going for as i have a lot of fun trying to replicate the style, themes, and flow of doujinshis using only text!

☆ contents: fem + plus-sized reader (reader is explicitly described as chubby, busty, and taller than scaramouche), age gap obviously; scaramouche is a senior in college and reader is in her early 40s, degradation, a couple insults (such as scaramouche calling you a hag/loose/etc.), degradation, exhibitionism (scaramouche fucks you in front of a glass sliding door), sexual frustration, and unprotected sex + scaramouche pulls out

also posted to ao3 with the same title and under the same username!

Scaramouche has a problem.

Well, a problem slightly more irritating than the approximately nine hundred other problems he deals with on a daily basis. These issues include, but are not limited to, the consistent problems he has with the hot water heater in his apartment, his obnoxious group project teammate Ajax who insisted upon being the group’s leader despite his complete and utter lack of intellect, his annoying circle of friends that always seem to find ways to poke their noses into Scaramouche’s business, his frustratingly-dull history professor that always goes off on tangents completely unrelated to the class’ subject matter… and so on and so forth. It’s one issue after another; there’s always something when it comes to Scaramouche.

A matter more pressing than all of those other nine hundred issues put together, however, comes in the form of his next-door neighbor— you.

You’re a divorced woman in your early forties who lives by herself, works during the daytime while Scaramouche is on campus, and always seems to leave and return home at the same times he does. He moved in next door to you a few months ago at the start of his junior year, but you’ve never really gotten the chance to get to know him beyond the curt responses he gives you when you ask how he’s doing or what he did over the weekend. His coldness towards you doesn’t make too much sense— have you somehow offended him without knowing? You like to consider yourself a good neighbor: you don’t party (like a woman your age would ever do such a thing), you don’t blast loud music long into the night (or at all), you take good care of your things and avoid causing trouble for Scaramouche or your other neighbors, and you’re very, very tidy. When you’re in the mood to brag a little, you’ll say that you have the nicest balcony in the entire apartment complex.

…Avoid causing trouble for Scaramouche, huh? He’d beg to differ.

If Scaramouche has nine hundred problems in his life, then maybe it’d be more accurate to claim that you’re the cause of at least seven hundred of those problems rather than claiming that you’re one single, self-contained issue separate from all of those other problems. Maybe it’s the way you insist upon butting your way into his life and, in what must be your way of expressing it, “taking care” of him that irritates him more than anything else. Really, if he had to sum up your advances in one word, he’d have to go with aggravating.

At first, he bitterly wondered if you’re just some senile old hag using him as a replacement for your son, who’s surely moved out by now given your age. All you are is a woman looking to cure her empty nest syndrome by doting on someone her son’s age according to Scaramouche— he viewed your kindness as underhanded and delusional because he can take care of himself, you know. He’s an adult man living on his own; he knows how to navigate the trials and tribulations of young adulthood without some old lady insisting upon knocking on his door and gifting him home-cooked meals, bringing up his mail from the first-floor mailroom, or helping him with chores where you can. It’s not like Scaramouche would ever let you into his apartment, but that hasn’t stopped you from finding ways to help outside by sweeping outside his front door or washing the outside of his front window while he’s not home.

Okay, maybe it’s a little creepy to wash your neighbor’s windows without him asking you to help out, but it’s not like he’s going to do it. You would know— you had once waited a week to see if he’d clean up a spilled drink stain on the walkway in front of his door. As you expected, he never got around to it, so you happily cleaned it up on his behalf. Cleaning up for him doesn’t really put you out of your way either— whenever you sweep his doorway, it’s because you were already outside tidying up in front of your place; why not help out your neighbor in the process?

When you bring him meals you prepared yourself, it’s out of the goodness of your heart and because you can’t help but worry about a college boy’s diet— fast food, pizza, frozen microwave meals, and instant ramen don’t have all the nutrients a hardworking man needs. When you bring him his mail, it’s because he has a tendency to forget about it until his mailbox is, quite literally, overflowing. Whereas you check your mailbox every single day, Scaramouche seems to forget about his until the end of the week, which is certainly no way to live— what if he misses an important bill or notice? As a result, you took it upon yourself to check his mailbox for him whenever you go to retrieve your own mail.

Again, maybe it’s a little creepy to gather your neighbor’s mail, but it’s not like you’re hurting anyone, right? You certainly don’t root through his mail or open any of it. Even though Scaramouche rolls his eyes and mumbles a halfhearted little “thanks” every time you hand him his mail, he doesn’t really seem to mind. Despite his initial reluctance to accept any of it, he still eats the food you prepare for him if the empty containers he returns to you a few days later are any indication of that fact. You figure maybe he’s just a little shy or tired from his long day on campus— it does your heart well to know that he’s working so very hard.

On the flip side of things, Scaramouche considers your… activities a total inconvenience. He’ll admit that your meals taste very good— though he’d never say it to your face— but he doesn’t like feeling indebted to you or thinking that he owes you something even though you’ve told him multiple times that your favors don’t need any payback. You’re just happy to cook for someone other than yourself, you had told him once, confirming Scaramouche’s suspicion that you live alone. It’s not his fault you’re bored enough to make food for someone you barely know, so do you have to rope him into your wiles? He already has groceries and though he doesn’t really know how to cook, what’s wrong with having a bowl of cereal for dinner? It’s none of your business, is it?

Between your constant insistence on involving yourself in his life and the fact that he’s never seen anyone else leaving or entering your apartment, Scaramouche was able to correctly guess that you live alone… a realization that can’t help but annoy him. He figures that if you had someone, anyone else in your life like a spouse or another child living with you, you’d stop pestering him and stick to involving yourself in the lives of your family instead of your neighbor.

Would a pet do? Should he find some stray kitten and leave it on your doorstep? Is that what it’d take to make you mind your own business?

“Hey, Kuni, tell me about your little neighbor lady again,” Venti coos, accidentally knocking over his—thankfully— empty beer bottle when he leans forward to grab his phone. He’s drunk, but that barely makes a difference; he’d still make this request sober.

Glowering around the mouth of his own bottle, Scaramouche rolls his eyes in Venti’s general direction. “Why? If you want to know that hag so badly, go talk to her yourself.”

Venti busts out laughing, an action that his drunken body clearly can’t handle seeing as he falls sideways into Aether’s shoulder, making the latter grimace in response. Venti’s already a handful sober, but when he drinks… it takes the entire friend group to get him home and/or in bed safely. “Don’t threaten me with that, ‘cuz I really will do it— I’ll go steal your hot older girlfriend.”

Glaring up at him from his spot on the rug, Scaramouche has half a mind to shove that empty beer bottle into Venti’s eye for suggesting such a thing. Hey, wait a minute— why is Scaramouche the one sitting on the floor when this is his damn apartment?

“She’s not my fucking girlfriend,” he barks, turning to direct his glare at Kazuha too when he hears him chuckle.

“The more you deny it, the less convincing you are— you talk about her all the time, so I’m inclined to believe you really are dating,” Venti chirps, reaching for a bottle of beer that is most certainly not his.

“That’s mine,” Aether protests, watching as Venti takes a sip from his bottle anyways.

“Oops, my bad.” He doesn’t sound sincere.

“Well… get me another whenever you stand up.”

Venti waves his hand dismissively before redirecting his attention back to the more important matter at hand— Scaramouche’s complete and utter inability to just admit that he has the hots for his hot MILF of a neighbor and that any protest otherwise is a feeble attempt at hiding the truth.

“They say you’re attracted to things that make you mad,” Venti says. “…Cuteness aggression. Yeah. I saw a video about it once.”

“That’s not what cuteness aggression is, and ‘they’ say that you attract the things you fear,” Kazuha corrects him from his spot in the nearby armchair— again, why is Scaramouche the one sitting on the floor?— before he goes to take another hit off his blunt.

Venti repeats what Kazuha said in a nasally voice in an attempt to mock him, but the gesture only makes Kazuha chuckle again. It’ll be hard to draw any response more eloquent than a single laugh or a sigh out of him for the rest of the night— it’s a very, very stark difference from how he usually is.

“Why the fuck do I ever invite any of you over here?” Scaramouche sighs, taking a long swig from his own bottle. He doesn’t even really like the taste; it’s something Venti found on sale and decided to bring over, but Scaramouche has decided it’s better than spending his Friday night sober. Besides, it’ll take at least four more of these to deal with the impending conversation that he’s been trying so hard to pivot away from since Venti first brought it up.

“Because we’re best friends forever, next question. Why do you deny how much you wanna fuck your sexy neighbor, Kuni?” Venti asks again, pouting when Aether snatches the bottle Venti stole from him. “It’s super obvious. Xiao and Heizou agree with me, and I’m not just saying that because they’re not here tonight and can’t contest me on it. It’s true.”

Kazuha nods, and Aether simply shrugs. Christ alive, do they all think the same thing?

“And why on Earth do I— in theory— want to fuck her? She’s probably loose or something,” Scaramouche argues.

Venti busts out laughing again.

“It’s the opposite, really,” he starts, glancing between Aether and Kazuha when neither of them laugh along with him. “What, have you guys seriously never been with an older lady? They’re the best; the reason I know Kuni wants to get with that lady next door is because I got with the lady next door to me a couple months ago. It takes one to know one, or something. Trust me, Kuni, I know what you’re going through and we are seriously gonna get through this together.” Why is he making it sound like a relative died or something?

“They’re experienced,” Venti sighs longingly, blindly reaching out again for the bottle Aether’s holding, who moves it further away and out of Venti’s reach. “They feel really, really good. They actually know what they’re doing… sometimes the girls—and guys, mind you, I’ve gotten with plenty of both— our age clearly don’t know they’re supposed to be doing, but getting with somebody’s mom…”

“You’re gross!” Aether gasps, though his pink cheeks tell a different story.

“Not as gross as the guy who’s told us the same story about seeing his neighbor lady braless like four times now,” Venti replies, glancing over at Scaramouche with a grin. “Really left an impression on you, huh, Kuni?”

Just like that, Scaramouche finds himself instantly reminded of, well, the time he saw you braless first thing in the morning. A few months ago on some random Saturday morning, Scaramouche was out smoking a cigarette on his porch when you stepped outside to water the plants you keep on your balcony. There were so many of them: a small tomato plant, a pot overflowing with basil that you took to trimming after you finished watering everything, a couple of hanging baskets field with flowers, and a few other vegetable plants and potted succulents. More glaringly obvious than the abundance of plants occupying your balcony was your complete and utter shamelessness— even a quick glance in your direction was enough to draw Scaramouche’s attention to the distractingly sheer fabric of your white camisole.

It’s not like Scaramouche was actively staring at your tits— really, he wasn’t, he swears— because anyone would notice something that egregious. The low, low sweep of your camisole around your ample bust, your nipples beading up against the thin fabric, the constant fucking movement of the top as you shifted and bent over to water the plants sitting on the ground, moved, and walked, all of it. He complained to his friends about your complete and utter shamelessness— What kind of woman steps outside practically naked? he spat, much to the amusement of Venti, who had said that wearing a thin shirt does not, in fact, make one naked.

Worst of all, you had actually fucking caught Scaramouche staring, an action that made you grin wickedly and run your hands down the sides of your soft, plump body as if to try and draw his eyes down along with your hands. Instead, Scaramouche had only whipped his head to the other side, busying himself with tapping the ash off his cigarette as if it were the most important task he’d ever complete in his life. Jesus Christ, he was only staring because he couldn’t believe you’d be so shameless as to wear something like that outside, not because he was genuinely aroused by how low your camisole sat on your chest, how big your tits are, how soft they look…

He thinks he shuddered then, and he insisted to his friends that it was because of a sudden chilly breeze and absolutely nothing more. It was either that or because he was just so shocked by your display that a shiver went down his spine— he can’t even remember the exact reason he gave anymore.

Either way, none of them really believed him.

“Ah, he seems distracted,” Kazuha notes simply, raising a hand to point at Scaramouche before grinning. His words pull Scaramouche from his little daydream, and he groans at the realization that, yes, he spaced out remembering yet another instance of your abhorrent shamelessness and perversion.

“Spaced out thinking about cute MILF boobs, I get it,” Venti affirms, nodding. “Nobody gets that more than me. Not only that, but you’ve also, uh, ‘complained’ to us about seeing her in her swimsuit. Really, Kuni, it’s like you’re biding your time and waiting for her to take her clothes off so you can tell us about it.”

…That’s a story for another time. Scaramouche has had enough of thinking about you for one day; it’s bad enough that you brought him his mail today just mere moments before Venti, Kazuha, and Aether arrived to hang out— what if they saw you?— but to be reminded of the image of your tits underneath that pathetic excuse for a top…

He shakes his head and takes a long, long sip from his bottle.

“And they’re so soft, Kuni,” Venti says, slumping over further into Aether for support. “They feel like absolutely nothing else. I feel like firmness or perkiness or whatever is really, really overrated— the softness of a cute MILF’s boobs is unrivaled!”

“Can you not say things like that right into my ear?” Aether mumbles bashfully, making Venti laugh.

“Why? Am I gonna put the mental image of MILF boobs in your brain, too? Are we gonna become an entire friend group full of MILF chasers? That’d be hilarous. I already know about Xiao’s little crush on his English professor.”

Jesus, Scaramouche has got to steer this conversation somewhere else or he’ll go mad. “Anyways,” he beings, “Where is that pizza you ordered ages ago?”

“I thought Kazuha was taking care of it,” Aether remarks, glancing over at him. Kazuha goes to reply, but nothing comes out— yep, he’s gone for the night. He won’t be able to get out any more than four words max until morning.

As if the universe heard their request, the doorbell rings to signify the arrival of dinner. Before Scaramouche can go to pull himself up off the floor—he really should make Venti move; it’s his couch in his apartment— Venti’s already in the process of skipping towards the door. Aether takes the opportunity to kick his feet up over the other couch cushion, making Scaramouche wonder if the three of them formed some secret pact to ensure that he stays on the floor the entire evening.

However, what stands on the other side of the door is not, in fact, the pizza delivery boy. It’s you, aluminum foil-covered glass casserole dish in hand, leading Scaramouche to believe that while the universe did hear their request for food, the devil answered by sending you to his doorstep while he has three of his friends over.

“Oh! You’re not the pizza guy,” Venti beams, putting on his best ‘polite’ voice possible. Scaramouche groans and looks over towards his other two friends just so he doesn’t accidentally make eye contact with you, but neither Aether nor Kazuha look back at him. They’re looking at you.

Christ, he’ll never live this down. Not only do they know who you are, they now know what you look like.

“I’m not,” you giggle. “I live next door; I bring food to Scaramouche sometimes whenever I get a little too excited in the kitchen and make too much. I can’t eat the leftovers fast enough before they go bad, and I would hate to waste food, you know?”

“You can call him Kuni,” Venti offers. “We all do. It’s less of a mouthful, don’t you think?”

Scaramouche decides that Venti will be leaving his apartment in a body bag tonight.

His cheeks burn with equal parts humiliation and anger, and the realization that his friends’ teasing is only about to get worse now that they know who you are and what you look like more than motivates Scaramouche to devise a plot to kill the three of them.

After introducing yourself to Venti, he smiles and replies that “the pleasure is all his” when you tell him it’s nice to meet some of Scaramouche’s friends. Venti has half a mind to invite you inside for a moment, but he decides that’d be unnecessary— he figures he’s already done more than enough to inspire Scaramouche into action. If Scaramouche won’t act on his feelings himself, then maybe a little shove from his friends will help him along.

“That’s sweet of you!” Venti praises, taking the dish from your hands. “I’m glad Kuni’s eating properly these days. One time, he told us that the only thing he survived off of during finals week was a sleeve of Saltines and some peanut butter. You’re so kind, miss.”

You giggle sheepishly, a sound that Scaramouche would like to claim grates his ears. Miss? Can’t Venti see that you’re, well, old? “Well, I’m glad that he has such kind friends to support him. You all take care, okay? You too, Scara— Kuni!” You call out past Venti’s shoulder, making both Aether and Kazuha chuckle.

After bidding farewell to the four in what has to be the most mortifying moment of Scaramouche’s entire life, you leave, allowing Venti to close the door behind you and make his way back to the others. “Those boobs are huge,” he sighs dreamily, looking up at the ceiling. “If I got suffocated between those, I would die a fully satisfied man.”

“Then go die,” Scaramouche mutters in agreement, cheeks still burning with humiliation. Why does the universe insist upon tormenting him so?

Eyeing the dish in Venti’s hands, Aether pipes up too “She cooks for you? Kuni, you have it so good.”

Scaramouche is amazed that, after all this time, his friends still find it in them to be jealous of him despite all of his attempts at framing you as annoying, invasive, and overbearing. Can’t they see that you’re doing this on purpose?! Scaramouche has half a mind to wonder if you’re psychic— what other explanation is there for your obnoxiously perfect timing? He asks about food and suddenly you appear on his doorstep, dish in hand as if you had heard him through the walls. There’s no way they’re that thin, are they?

Venti moves to set the dish down on the kitchen countertop before turning around to look Scaramouche square in the eye. “Kuni, I’m saying this because I respect you as my longtime friend,” he asserts, tone and gaze both deathly serious in a way that’s genuinely almost out of character for someone as flippant and carefree as Venti. “But you better fuck that lady the first chance you get because, if you don’t, I’m taking her for myself.” That should do it.

Scowling in response, Scaramouche crosses his arms over his chest and sighs bitterly. “Why would I stop you? I don’t care what you do with her. For the last fucking time, I’m not into her.” Despite his words, Scaramouche can’t deny that there’s something… unsettling about the idea of Venti getting with you. Does he really want to watch his friend take four A.M. booty calls in order to fuck the woman living right next door to him? Can Scaramouche truly stomach the idea of his friend fucking the brains out of someone just a few walls away from where he lives? It’s hard to put his finger on why, but something about Venti getting with Scaramouche’s neighbor, despite his insistence that there truly is nothing between the two of them, really, really irks him.

Well, it’s probably just because a lot of Venti’s behavior tends to irritate Scaramouche in the first place, right? Yeah, it’s probably just that. He doesn’t need to hear every last gritty detail of his friend’s sexual trysts.

That characteristically smug grin of his finds its way back to Venti’s face as he reaches over Aether’s shoulder and snatches his beer bottle again. “Fine, I guess I’ll have to take your word for it. How about we forget the pizza and eat what she brought over?”

“Oh, I see now,” Kazuha interjects after having been silent for the past twenty minutes. He turns his phone around to show Scaramouche, Venti, and Aether the check-out screen on the pizza chain’s website. “It seems I failed actually submit the order; it was still waiting for me to pay.”

Scaramouche doesn’t have a hangover the next morning, a blessing he owes to the fact that he only ended up drinking two beers last night. He probably would’ve consumed more if he had the chance to, but Venti blew through the rest of the box quicker than the other three could try to stop him. It took both Kazuha and Aether supporting Venti’s hardly-conscious body to get him down the stairs to the parking lot so they can drive him home— there’s no way Venti would be able to safely get himself home amidst such an awful hangover.

As he pokes through his apartment scooping up empty beer bottles and stained paper plates to toss into a trash bag, the glass casserole dish sitting out on the kitchen counter catches Scaramouche’s eye. Save for a few scraps shoved into the rounded corners of the pan, it’s practically been picked clean— the four boys tore through it easily with Venti, Kazuha, and Aether all fawning over just how good a home-cooked meal tastes after months of campus cafeteria food, fast food, and instant ramen. Venti mentioned that there’s just something about a MILF’s cooking that makes it so much better, leading to a conversation about how, in Venti’s educated opinion, older women just do everything better: sex, cooking, cleaning, caretaking, all of it.

Scaramouche scoffs at the memory. “She’s nothing special,” he mutters to himself, still failing to understand Venti’s obsession with somebody he’s never even met until last night. Scaramouche is the one who’s actually been living next door to her for months now— as his friends know by now, he has plenty more to say about her than Venti does.

Shouldn’t he be the one to comment on things like the size of your bust, the softness of your legs, the plumpness of your ass and belly, and the flavor of your cooking? He’s the one who’s actually seen you lounging in tiny string bikinis by the apartment complex’s pool, watering the plants out on your balcony in a pair of shorts that certainly break publicly decency laws, and retrieving your mail in a shirt so thin he can make out the little bumps of your nipples up against the fabric.

“Christ, what am I thinking?” Scaramouche stops himself and second-guesses whether or not he’s actually hungover. There’s no way his sober mind would drift to thoughts of you, right? Clearly something must be wrong with him— he blames Venti for putting all these thoughts in his head with his never-ending discussion of what makes older women so utterly sexy.

He’s then reminded of what Venti told him right before they all sat down to eat your cooking: that if Scaramouche won’t hurry up and fuck his neighbor, Venti will do it for him. Even now, the idea still bothers him for reasons he just can’t quite put his finger on— Venti’s been with tons and tons of people; why does he want Scaramouche’s neighbor too? Can’t Venti see how awkward that would be?

Setting the trash bag down on the floor, Scaramouche takes to the sink to wash out the casserole dish you brought over for them last night. His mind concocts disgustingly vivid images of you as he scrubs at a particularly stubborn piece of dried cheese, and maybe he’d be shocked by how little effort he’s putting into warding those thoughts away if he weren’t so utterly immersed in them. His mind conjures up the image of you in that tiny black bikini he saw you wearing by the pool while he was out smoking on his balcony— he remembers the little number being so small that you had to readjust it every single time you simply sat up or lied down because every last motion was enough to threaten a nipslip. It makes him wonder if you dress like that on purpose or because you’ve deluded yourself into thinking that clothes and swimsuits you used to wear still fit you despite clear evidence otherwise— are you actively vying for the attention of any man who’ll give it to you, or are you brainless enough to throw something on without caring about how poorly or not it fits?

It’s probably a mix of both; you’re just that shameless.

Scaramouche grits his teeth at the mental image of you straddling him while adorned in that tiny little bikini that seems to only get tinier and tinier the longer he allows his imagination to run wild. Of all the fucking things to imagine you doing…

He pictures what you’d look like with your thick, plump thighs enveloping either side of his hips as you run your hands up and down your ample chest and soft stomach. God, he can see it all now: the little bumps of your nipples beading up against the thin fabric of your swimsuit, the soft hang of your tummy spilling over the tiny, flimsy string keeping your bottoms secured around your wide hips, the way your tits would bounce as you ride him…

“Something’s wrong with me,” he grumbles, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut. The clump of cheese he’d been scraping at finally separates from the pan, and he realizes that if he wants to rid you from his mind for good, he should take matters into his own hands before Venti does.

No, wait, this has nothing to do with Venti— this isn’t about staking claim over you before any of his friends can, this is solely about him finding ways to release the grip you have on him as if you’re some kind of wicked succubus. Scaramouche glances downwards after setting the dish aside to dry and, much to his chagrin, finds that the mere thought of you was enough to fucking get him hard. The eager press of his cock against the confines of his briefs moritifies him solely because of the very reason why he’s like this in the first place; how the fuck did the thought of you in a bikini so tiny your areolas peek around the sides reduce him to such a state? He’d like to believe that he’s only this hard because it’s been a while since he’s jerked off, but that would be an excuse less believable than any of the ones he’s ever given his friends.

He knows that he’s too dignified to jerk off to the thought of you— if he’s feeling horny, then surely he can find things more deserving of his attention than some hag next door. He refuses to give you that kind of satisfaction (despite the fact that you’d never even know unless he told you, so how could you be smug about it?), so he decides that an ice-cold shower is in order before venturing out to settle things with you.

After a shower so cold Scaramouche swears he saw his fingers begin to turn purple, he dries off, gets dressed in something other than the clothes he fell asleep in last night, grabs your clean casserole dish, and leaves to go to the one place he wouldn’t have ever imagined himself stepping foot in— your apartment. If this is what it takes to sever the connection between you and his mind…

God, this is going to be annoying, Scaramouche thinks as he knocks on your door using his foot, casserole dish supported safely by both of his hands. He feels the need to steel himself because he just knows you’ll answer the door in something sheer, skimpy, or some combination of the two and he needs to be ready for that.

Why? Are you hoping for that to happen, Kuni? Venti’s voice whispers from the back of Scaramouche’s mind.

He really is losing it.

“Good morning— oh, Kuni! This is a surprise,” you greet him upon opening the door, flashing him a smile so bright it nearly makes him cringe. Can you spare him the pleasantries so he can just get to the point?

Fucking Venti— why teach her that nickname? Turning his head to look at a faraway bird instead of you, Scaramouche scoffs. “I need to talk to you.” Straight to the point, emotionless, and rude, it’s all so in-character for your neighbor that you can’t help but giggle.

You grin wider. “Of course. Come in; I’ll put a pot of coffee on.”

Scaramouche waits until you’re a good few steps ahead of him before following you inside, glancing around the living room of your apartment as he makes his way to the kitchen table. Your apartment’s clean, impeccably so at that— every book on your bookshelf faces the same direction, the blanket draped over the back of your couch doesn’t have a single crease, and he can’t see even an ounce of dust on any inch of your tables and countertops.

He snorts a little. Rather than viewing the cleanliness as impressive or inspiring, he bitterly interprets it as a testament to your overabundance of free time and lack of other hobbies or pastimes.

“I’m not sure how strong you like your coffee, so I’ll just make it how I normally do,” you pipe up from the kitchen, pulling Scaramouche away from scrutinizing the titles of the books on your shelf. Restless Summer Nights? The Devil’s Mistress? They all sound like bargain bin erotica novels.

It was a mistake to direct his attention away from your novels and to you instead, he figures, because only now does he get a look at what you’re wearing— if one could even call that clothing. You’re dressed in something he wants to call a workout outfit, but anyone leaving the house in an outfit like that surely has goals other than simply exercising— they want to attract attention. A sports bra that sits so low on your chest that a single bounce on an exercise ball would expose you combines with a pair of spandex leggings so tight they reveal the lines of your panties to comprise your “workout outfit,” and to say that Scaramouche is mortified would be an understatement. He can’t help but find the combination of your manner of dress and your collection of novels completely pathetic.

And despite his apparent disgust… he’s been staring at you long enough to pick up the most minute details about your outfit. The indifferent passerby likely wouldn’t notice your pantylines— a certain amount of staring is required to actually notice them; they’re really not obvious from a quick glance. Actually, why can’t he stop looking at you? He writes it off as a simple morbid curiosity at how someone can be so completely and utterly shameless— one could almost liken his sick, cynical fascination with your ample curves and soft body to rubbernecking.

Scaramouche instead stares down into the cup of coffee you’ve set in front of him like it’s the most fascinating object in the entire world. He’s half-inclined to just close his eyes entirely, seeing as the slightest glimpse of your bust still occupies the uppermost part of his peripheral eyesight when you sit down in the chair opposite of him.

“So,” you start, sliding a porcelain dish with a small bowl of sugar cubes and a saucer of creamer his way. “What can I help you with? It’s rare for you to talk to me first, Kuni.”

He adds “drop that nickname” to his mental list of topics to bring up with you. Scaramouche plucks a few sugar cubes from the bowl before him and drops them into his coffee before absentmindedly stirring the liquid with a serving spoon.

“Last night,” He clears his throat. “Why did you come over to talk to V— to my friends?” Why are you always in my business? he really wants to ask, but he feels like you’ll start crying if he presses you too firmly.

And that’d just be obnoxious.

You giggle. “That makes it sound like I came over on purpose because I knew you had people over, and that’s not true. Haven’t we been in the habit of food delivery and acceptance for months now?” Scaramouche’s eyes follow yours to the squeaky-clean casserole dish he placed on your counter.

“I’m glad your friends seemed to enjoy the food just as much as you do,” you add sweetly, pursing your lips and blowing on your coffee to help it cool down.

“It was humiliating,” Scaramouche counters, a statement that prompts you to look up from your coffee and make eye contact with him. “They wouldn’t— they wouldn’t stop fucking talking about you after you left.”

Wait, that’s not the point here, is it? Surely Scaramouche’s main complaint isn’t that Venti practically sweet-talked you right into his bed, it’s that Scaramouche is tired of you invading his business and his space, right? He doesn’t care about Venti’s comments about your soft tits or your wide hips, he doesn’t care about Aether’s bashful confession that he exclusively jerks off to older women, he doesn’t care that he has competition because there’s nothing to compete over and he’s really, actually, truly angry that you always find a way to worm your way into his days and his mind and his free time and his wet dreams and his—

“Oh, I’m flattered,” you reply simply, sipping your coffee and smiling around the rim of the cup. “They’re such nice boys. I’m glad you have such sweet friends, dear.”

What’s warmer: the tips of Scaramouche’s ears or his untouched cup of coffee?

“That’s not— what? That’s not the point I’m making and you know that,” he grimaces, clearing his throat again. “My friends shouldn’t have to put up with a shameless old hag the way I have to.”

You set your cup down. “That’s not very nice. I look good for my age— that charming boy down at the corner mart always asks for my ID whenever I pick up some wine!”

Scaramouche rolls his eyes. “That’s his job. Anyways, I’m telling you to mind your own business.”

“Oh, is that all? Of course I can do that for you.” Your reply comes without a single skipped beat.

“I mean it, that means don’t touch my mail and— what?” Wait, there’s no way you’re making this this easy. A shameless, conniving, lustful, lewd seductress of a woman like you agreeing to just… fuck off at the first request? Scaramouche doesn’t buy it— this is just another phase of your plan to throw him off guard and pull the rug out from under him so you can sink your claws deeper and deeper into him.

“I like cooking for you and cleaning for you, and I was very happy to meet your friends yesterday, but if you want me to stop, of course I will,” you explain. “I wonder who’ll help me eat my leftovers now… your friend from last night gave me his phone number; does he like potato soup? I’m making that tonight.”

Scaramouche almost, almost feels a shiver tear down his spine. He’s starting to believe that Venti’s just as much an antagonist in this situation as you are.

“Why the fuck did you accept his number? Delete it,” he grumbles, crossing his arms and glaring over at you. His coffee’s surely gone cold by now, but that’s alright— he was never much of a coffee drinker anyways.

You shrug, a sly smile forming on your lips. “Oh, I don’t know. He was so sweet I didn’t want to say no… it’d give me someone new to talk to, if nothing else.” Why do you need to talk to Venti when he barely knows you and I’m right fucking here?

“It’s not like you talk to me much despite all my best efforts, Kuni,” you offer him the subtlest of pouts, an action that would look out of place on the face of a woman your age if you weren’t so… if you weren’t so…

Forget it, he’s not saying anything about you that could be interpreted as a compliment. “…Especially now that you and I have agreed to leave each other alone.”

Oh, Scaramouche doesn’t like this feeling. He hates feeling like a situation has spun out of his control, and that’s, unfortunately, exactly what he feels is happening here. You’ve agreed to his terms and you’ve promised to stay out of his way, so why does he feel so… angry?

Yeah, you must have some underhanded motive here. Why else would you be making this so… easy? That’s not like you at all— he was expecting you to fan your eyelashes, pout your lips, push your tits forward, and whimper that you’re sorry and that you’d love to keep talking to him, so will he please give you a second chance?

I’ll do anything, he was sure you’d say.

You clear your throat. “Well, is there anything else you’d like to discuss now? If not, I’ll get back to my yoga. It’s good to be active, right?”

What the hell? You’re ending the conversation? No way, no how— this ends on Scaramouche’s terms, not yours. Who do you think you are?

“No, that’s not it, actually,” he blurts, crossing his arms over his chest. “Staying out of my business means staying away from Venti— from any of my friends. Don’t talk to them, don’t text them, don’t— I don’t know. Don’t be around them.”

You smile a little wider. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you sound jealous, Kuni.”

He scoffs, staring you directly in the eye as if to challenge you. “Seriously? Shit joke.”

Of all the adjectives you could have picked to describe him… “It’s just that the thought of you getting with Venti is nauseating, alright?”

You hum. “And why him specifically, hm? You had other friends over last night— are they single?” Jesus Christ, what is this, an interrogation? And where the hell are these sorts of questions coming from— did you already send Venti an invitation to hook up?

Sneering so hard his nose scrunches up, Scaramouche can’t help but feel appalled. “Did you decide I’m not good enough or something? Who do you think you are?”

You go silent.

Scaramouche, somehow, goes even quieter than silent when the weight of his words finally sets in. There it is— the culmination of your grand plan to humiliate, embarrass, and utterly demean him in your own home. You had this outcome planned from the start, didn’t you?

“I didn’t say that,” you stammer, attempting to correct yourself. “Why do you think I’ve been vying for your attention all this time? Of course I like you, Kuni.”

God, how you piss him off. Who do you think you are— some bashful schoolgirl confessing to her first crush?

“I know that I’m just an old woman and that you could certainly find a cute, young, perky college girl whenever you’d like to, but if you’d ever like me…”

Of course Scaramouche could get someone his age from one of his classes— he doesn’t need to settle for some loose old hag— and yet… the thought of you getting with anyone else, Venti or not, pisses him off in a way he can’t quite describe. Maybe he views himself as some kind of hero protecting everyone else from your shamelessness, maybe he views himself as the only one worthy of your attention as the one who has to put up with you the most, maybe he views you as someone actually, genuinely worth being with…

He sits up a little straighter. “You have no idea how obnoxious you are,” he mutters. “Taking up my time and attention even when you’re not around.”

“What a forked tongue,” you reply, leaning forward and, much to Scaramouche’s chagrin, pushing your breasts together with your hands. “You know that’s why I like you, right? Mean boys have always been my favorite— ever since high school.”

“You’re not worth the time,” he spits. So fucking annoying. So fucking shameless. What kind of woman your age behaves this way, anyway? So obnoxious, so pathetic, so intoxicating, so impossible-to-keep-out-of-his-mind—

“Venti sure seems to think I am,” you offer with a smug, self-satisfied smile as you rise from your seat. Hooking your thumbs up under the straps of your sports bra, you quickly snap the elastic fabric back against your shoulders to give your tits a little bounce, an action that, of course, does not go unnoticed. Slapping his hands down flat against the perfectly-ironed lacy tablecloth covering your dining room table and standing up so quickly he nearly knocks his knees against the table’s hardwood underside, Scaramouche laughs.

What a time to finally, finally accept that he has the hots for his neighbor— the same neighbor who’s supposedly the cause of so many of his bad days and sour moods. You’ve prompted many a disdainful mutter from Scaramouche after catching a glimpse of you through your drawn curtains, you’ve been the subject of many a snide comment made in the presence of his friends, and, most frustratingly of all, you’ve inspired countless, countless inappropriate thoughts that he cannot believe you’ve been the subject of.

And all it took was one of his friends hitting on you for him to realize that.

“Constantly flaunting a body like this,” he chides in a way that he wants to come off as insulting and condescending rather than sadistically flattering, but the little grin you offer in response gives him reason to believe you interpreted it as the latter. Seriously?

“Other boys your age seem to enjoy the flaunting,” you counter, slipping your thumbs into the waistband of your spandex leggings. As if to tease the act of pulling them all the way down your legs, you flip the fabric of your waistband over its seam to expose the majority of your soft lower belly.

Anger burns hot behind his pale cheeks. “Is this some kind of pathetic hobby of yours? Fucking guys half your age?”

“I like to consider it a lifestyle,” you reply, shimmying your leggings further and further down your thick thighs until your thong’s completely exposed. A black lace thong— how becoming of a nymphomanic like yourself. “I’m fine with trading experience for virility and stamina; do you know how many men my age finish in thirty seconds and call it there because they’re ‘just so tired’? College boys either go until they can’t hold themselves upright or until they have nothing left to pump into me.”

There’s that vulgar nature that’s both irritated and (subconciously) aroused him for months. He wants to believe that your disgusting nature doesn’t make his cock twitch, but the time for pretending has clearly passed. You don’t believe he finds you ugly or unappealing and neither does he anymore.

“And do you find this… lifestyle fulfilling?” Scaramouche challenges, grimacing at the pressure building in the frontside of his tight jeans.

You laugh. “Is that your way of saying you don’t? Are you a virgin, sweetheart?”

“Of course not. Just because some of us don’t fuck everything with two legs and a pulse doesn’t mean we’re virgins.” His clumsy escapades are none of your business— his high school girlfriend and that guy from the concert Venti dragged him to over the summer don’t concern you.

Bending forward to push your leggings down to your knees, you gaze up at Scaramouche through your eyelashes and giggle. “Don’t make it sound like I don’t savor every last cock or strap I ride. You could put every last one of them in front of me and I’d be able to tell you who they belong to with my eyes shut.”

Venti mentioned something about experience, didn’t he? What a sanitized way of calling older women complete and total whores.

The inferiority complex in Scaramouche wants to prove that he’s the best thing a whore like you will ever experience, that he can make you feel better than any of the other bumbling college morons he probably knows can, and that you’ll give up your ways of fucking everyone that looks at you in order to devote yourself to him and him alone. That’d be some nice payback for all the pain and humiliation you’ve subjected him to these past couple of months, right?

No, he has a better idea.

“If you want to show yourself off that badly,” Scaramouche huffs, doing his damndest to ignore the nearly-painful throbbing in his jeans. “Then I’m sure you’d be fine with doing it in front of that glass door, right?”

With your hands still bunched in the fabric of your leggings, you look back at the glass sliding door that leads to your balcony and bite your lip. It’s not likely anyone would actually see you— you and Scaramouche live on the third floor— but it’s still a possibility and an exciting thought nonetheless. Maybe you could give that nice redheaded quarterback boy you fucked a few months ago a nice show; he lives just across the parking lot in the building parallel to yours.

“Now who’s the deviant one? I’ve never fucked anywhere more public than a nightclub’s bathroom stall,” you tease, finally pushing your leggings all the way down and off your legs. He doesn’t believe you, but Christ, those thighs of yours look soft…

You accept his offer nonetheless and make your way over to the balcony door, your thong riding high on your wide hips and your hardened nipples pressing into the flimsy fabric of your pathetic excuse of a sports bra. “You’re helping me wipe off all the fingerprints afterwards,” you scold, inviting him over with a wiggle of your hips and a glance back over your shoulder.

Now, rationally, Scaramouche would never propose the idea of fucking in a place as public as right in front of an apartment complex parking lot. He’s never considered himself an exhbitionist and he’s always been somewhat obsessed with his image, and people who care about their image generally don’t have sex in the potential presence of others. Additionally, there’s probably something to be said about him potentially getting caught fucking the same woman he’s spent the better half of this past year complaining about, but the current irrational, horny, angry Scaramouche wouldn’t listen to better judgement or rationality anyways.

The relief that comes with unbuttoning his jeans and giving his almost painfully-hard cock room to breathe is so euphoric he can’t help but sigh, the throbbing in his crotch more aggravating than any pounding headache he’s ever experienced after an evening drinking with his friends.

“I can’t fucking believe it,” he laughs, incredulous. “To think the hag living next door to me is the reason I’m like this.” Jamming the weight of his bulge into the plumpness of your soft ass, Scaramouche seizes hold of your hips in both of his hands and gives the fat of your love handles a painful squeeze just to hear you suck the air in through your teeth.

“I thought you’d never come around, you know,” you breathe, beyond eager at the prospect of finally, finally getting to fuck the neighbor boy you’ve been actively working at breaking for months upon months now. A guy this mean, this arrogant, and this demeaning doesn’t come around that often, especially when so many of the guys you get with take the polite route by calling you “ma’am” and complimenting you over and over again— which certainly isn’t a bad thing, but cruel has always satisfied you in ways that kind cannot.

The height difference between the two of you means that Scaramouche has to stand up a little straighter than he normally does in order to press his hips against yours, a realization that’s only slightly humiliating. Granted, it could never compare to how humiliating it was for you to show up at his apartment in front of all his friends.

God, does it feel good to put you in your place.

“Spread,” Scaramouche mutters, knocking one of his feet against both of your ankles. He doesn’t tell you that he needs you to spread your legs so your hips will lower a bit, allowing him to reach them a little more easily since you’re a bit taller than he is.

You would tease him for skipping the foreplay and just jamming himself right into you, but you know that you’ve been plenty wet enough ever since your discussion with him first wandered to sex and masturbation. Well, that, and if you had to wait another minute to get the cock you’ve been so desperate for for so long now, you very well may go crazy. It’s taken months, but you can already tell that it was all so, so worth it.

Running his knuckles down the center of your thong, Scaramouche relishes in the smug satisfaction that comes with realizing that you’re wet. It’s equal parts arousing and equal parts pathetic— just how desperate are you for any cock you can get your hands on?

“You’ve already kept me waiting for months,” you say with a pout cast back at him from over your shoulder. “Why make me wait even longer when I’m right here?”

“Shameless and impatient,” he remarks with a frustrated huff. “Can’t you do something good with your life or yourself for once and just be quiet?”

As tempting as it is to make a teasing quip in return to only further rile up your angsty neighbor boy, a frenzied giggle is the only sound you can muster up when you feel the firm press of a cock against your clothed pussy. Even through your flimsy thong, you can tell that he’s hard, which is a reward in its own right. It’s what you’ve wanted to achieve since the very first time he caught you half-naked watering plants on your balcony— is it so wrong for you to want to rile up the cutie next door?

Scaramouche roughly yanks your thong down to hang around your lower thighs, leaving you entirely on display for him when you follow suit by tugging your sports bra up to your collarbone. The cool, smooth glass against your bare tits is an unfamiliar sensation, but it’s certainly not an unwelcome one— especially when you remember that anyone could look up from across the parking lot and get an eyeful of your bare tits squished up against the glass door.

“I wish I could watch you sink it in for the first time,” you hum, reaching down between your legs to part the outer lips of your cunt for him a little wider. “In front of a mirror or something maybe. Wouldn’t that be romantic?”

Scaramouche rolls his eyes. “Yeah, because you’re the spitting image of the romantic type.” There’s no way you consider him the romantic type, is there? He’s not going to hold your hands and whisper in your ear about how cute you are, you know.

Damn it, you’ve got him actually wanting you more than he’s ever wanted you before— this makes all his filthy fantasies about taking you bent over your kitchen counter or being underneath you while you ride him into oblivion look like a cheap, budget porno from a video rental store. His desire has always been real—albeit subconscious, sure—but it feels so much more genuine now that it’s been realized.

“Don’t say a word about this to anyone,” he mumbles in a brief moment of humiliation, biting into his bottom lip as he finally, finally sinks the full length of his cock into you.

Jesus Christ, if there’s anything Venti’s ever been right about, it’s how good a mature pussy feels. You’re soaked all the way down to your inner thighs, you’re so warm Scaramouche nearly feels his knees give out from underneath him, and you squeeze him so well he can feel your pussy gripping the sensitive underside of his tip.

“Why not? I can invite your friend next time,” you propose, squealing with delight when Scaramouche slaps a hand down against the side of your ass. “Venti, right? It’d feel so good to have my ass used while you—“

“Just shut up,” he hisses bitterly, glaring at you hard enough to give himself a stress headache. “Don’t talk about other guys right now. Especially not ones I know.”

“You’re right, it’s rude to talk about other men when I have such a good one right here with me already,” you feign sympathy, pushing your hips back flat against the front of his thighs. “Oh, Kuni.”

There’s that damn nickname again. As much as he hates the idea of you using it to tease him or fluster him, he can’t deny the way his dick twitches whenever you coo it in that soft, sultry tone of yours. It’s like you were custom-made to gobble men up or something— just how many of his classmates have you fucked?

Oh, it doesn’t matter. Not when he knows he can establish himself as the best of the whole damn lot of them. Not when he knows that he gets the privilege of seeing you every single day and nobody, nobody else does. Not when he’s seen your cute nipples peeking at him through that tiny, flimsy pajama top he caught you in all those months ago. Not when he gets to peruse on over to your apartment whenever he wants because you’re right fucking there and nobody, nobody is physically closer to you than he is.

Jesus, this is all starting to sound like some kind of crush.

“How’s that?” Scaramouche taunts, slapping his hips against you so wildly the sound of skin smacking on skin almost drowns out his voice. He’d like to claim that this sort of pace is supposed to be punishing, and he’d be right if he were to say that, but he wants it hard and rough just as much as you surely do. He couldn’t stop his hips even if he wanted to because he knows there’s nothing he’s wanted to do more than fuck your brains out for months upon months now.

You don’t answer him, too preoccupied with relishing in the feeling of his cock pounding into you with everything he’s got. How befitting of Scaramouche to fuck you like he’s angry at you— if he could even claim to be mad anymore. The combined sensations of his hips hammering against yours, his fingernails digging into your soft, plump love handles, and his balls slapping against your ass on each thrust are all far too overwhelming to even attempt a reply.

“Seriously? You run your mouth for ages and now you shut up when I ask you a question?” You’re doing this on purpose— Jesus, you’re insatiable.

Your back arches when Scaramouche digs the tip of his cock into a particularly sensitive spot inside of you, a broken whine leaving your lips instead when you attempt to reply with a dirty quip. He laughs when he realizes what’s just happened— that’s certainly one way to get you to shut that filthy mouth of yours.

“I hope somebody’s watching you, actually,” he admits despite all the jealousy even a single mention of his friend stirred up in him. “That way they can see you’re not worth their time because you don’t value yourself whatsoever. Why would anyone want someone who’s happy to just give themselves away like this and get fucked in a place so public?”

Maybe that’s just a weird, roundabout way of saying I want someone to watch me fuck you so they know a whore like you has been whipped into shape and that you only want me now. Who’s to say?

“You don’t care about getting caught yourself?” You finally pipe up with a grin.

Scaramouche snorts. “Getting caught with the likes of you? I’d transfer universities.”

You pout. “Would I still get to see you?”

For whatever reason, the question catches him off guard. How many times does he need to remind you that you’re not his girlfriend, that you’re not some sweetheart with an innocent crush, that you’re just his fucking neighbor who just so happens to have a hot body and just so happens to feel so, so good around him like this and just so happens to be the subject of his wet dreams and fantasies and—

He’s only able to spit out one word. “Obnoxious.”

His hands reclaim a firm grasp on your ample hips before he takes to fucking into you at a whole new angle— one that’ll surely hit that spot that got you to shut the fuck up moments ago. Your hands clamor for anything you could possibly grab onto to steel yourself, but there’s nothing except for the cool, flat glass beneath your palms.

“Kuni,” you rasp in a broken voice, beyond impressed with his ability to have found your most sensitive spot and target it specially. Call it sheer dumb luck or a testament to how perfectly compatible your bodies are, it doesn’t matter. He won’t let up on it until you’ve collapsed— maybe it’ll be a nice change of pace from your partners being the ones to collapse after an evening with you.

With the task of finding something to hold onto having proven fruitless, you instead slip a hand back between your legs to rub at your clit. Scaramouche snickers at your apparent desperation to orgasm, but he’s not letting you off that easily.

“What a pathetic display,” he remarks, pounding into you so quickly you can barely register the full length of his cock before he’s pulling it all the way out of you again. With your legs trembling and your knees buckling, the possibility of actually collapsing underneath him is becoming increasingly likely— these wild, frenzied thrusts of his prove exactly why you’re so into college guys.

Looking down from the fuzzy reflection of your face in the glass, Scaramouche watches each sink of his cock into your tight, dripping cunt with all the intensity and attention of a virgin. It may as well be his first time— you feel so fucking good he’s starting to lose his train of thought. You take him all the way to the hilt on each thrust so easily that he’d absolutely call you a common whore if he were able to form even a single word.

Despite his inability to form a coherent sentence, Scaramouche finds that he has just enough rationality left to pull out mere seconds before coming all over the swell of your ass, his cock twitching in his hand as he bites back moans. Here he is, coming all over the soft ass of his obnoxious older neighbor lady after spending so many months convincing his friends that he does not, in fact, want to fuck her.

You laugh breathlessly, the hand between your legs still rubbing frantic circles over your clit as you attempt to reach your own orgasm as well. “What’s wrong with coming inside? I’m hurt.”

Scaramouche rolls his eyes. That’d be irresponsible.

“Well, that’s alright,” you chirp, standing upright and turning around to face him. “I can always wring it out of you myself, right?”

“You’re insatiable,” he replies, inching backwards towards the couch as you step forward in time with his footsteps.

“Pot, kettle. You’re still hard, Kuni.”

With the realization that he’ll need some kind of excuse to offer his friends when he inevitably returns to a slew of unread messages a few hours from now, he falls backwards onto the couch just before you make yourself comfortable in his lap.

Well, not that any of them have ever believed any vague, half-baked excuse Scaramouche gives.

#hiiiii #juju bakery #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #scaramouche x y/n #kunikuzushi smut #fem reader

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cal-flakes · 10 months

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what if rafe and reader made a pact when they were younger that if they weren't in a relationship by the time they were a certain age then they would date each other... then it's getting closer to when they're both that age and rafe starts scaring away any guys that approach her so that he can date her instead

╰┈➤ “it’s always been you”

warnings: swearing, light smut. slight obx3 spoiler.

summary: two childhood bestfriends finally confront their feelings for one another.

time flies when you’re having fun, or something like that. it was a sunny day in kildare, inciting her to stay hidden inside all day, away from the scorching heat.

she sat behind the cash register, occasionally sipping at her iced coffee from the cafe next door. it was a quiet day in the florists, nothing to worry about, it was early hours on a monday.

scrolling mindlessly through instagram, suddenly the bell above the door sounded, breaking her concentration.

putting on a professional smile, she looked up from the small desk, expecting a customer. she was pleasantly surprised when she met eyes with her childhood bestfriend.

it had been a while, the last few years he’d spent working his ass off with his late fathers development company, causing him to have little time for his beloved y/n.

“rafe!” she beamed, leaping up to round the cash register. he greeted her with open arms as she engulfed him in a tight squeeze, just about knocking the air out of his lungs.

“woah- you miss me or something?” he joked, returning the warm hug. swatting at his chest playfully, she pulled away to look at him. “i haven’t seen you in forever, you’ve been too busy!”

“i’m never too busy to see you flower” there it was. the nickname that made her heart jump out of chest, the nickname that made her feel so warm and fuzzy inside she could hardly describe it with mere words.

blushing, she sat back down on the little stool, facing him. “well, it seems you must be, rafael” she giggled, mocking him for the name he absolutely hates.

honestly, if it wasn’t coming from her, you could guarantee he’d be beaten whomever to a pulp right about now.

“shh. anyways, i was wondering if you wanted to grab some dinner with me later, after you’ve locked up and everything?” he muttered hopefully, his eyes flitting between her and the flowers scattered around the shop.

she frowned slightly, mentally cursing herself for having already made plans. “shit, i can’t tonight, i’ve already told josh i’d meet him after i close the shop” she sighed, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth anxiously.

a flicker of sadness washed over rafe’s face, to quick for her to catch, but she felt the mood change immediately.

“who’s josh?” he questioned, his lips almost threatening a scowl. “oh, josh is just someone I met the other day, he came in looking for flowers, left with my number. you know, the usual..” she sighed, the memories of numerous failed situationships crossing her mind.

“huh..” he scoffed, the protective setting in his brain switching on in full effect.

he’d always been protective of her, some may say even overbearingly protective, but she didn’t mind. she knew he meant well, but what she didn’t know, was that there had always been another reason for scaring away any boy that came near her.

“oh shush, he’s sweet. nothing like the last few, you don’t have to worry” she laughed, observing the frown that had settled over his face. “and don’t go scaring him off either!” she scolded, pointing a finger at him accusingly.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about y/n..” rafe smirked, chuckling at her. “yeah whatever, i’m serious, i want this to go well rafe”

nodding, he felt a light tug in his chest as she spoke, somewhat disappointed about her new situation. if he didn’t know better, he’d be worried about it, but he wasn’t, y/n just had bad luck when it came to men.

quickly bidding each other goodbye, and making yet another promise to see eachother again soon, he left the shop, leaving y/n in deep thought about her choices.

it was only a couple weeks later when the ringtone of his phone sounded around his car. his brows raised as he read the name, flower. sighing, he swiped his thumb along the screen, holding the phone up to his ear.

“y/n, are you okay?” he asked, nervous for the answer. “r-rafe, are you busy?” her whimpering voice echoed through the phone while a pang of hurt spread through his chest.

“where are you” he barked, alarm bells ringing in his head as soon as she spoke. “i-im at my apartment..” quickly turning the key in the ignition, he put the car into gear. “i’m on my way, won’t be long m’kay”

satisfied with her agreement, rafe set off in the range rover, luckily not far from her house already.

screeching to a halt, he jumped out of the vehicle, practically running up the stairs of her apartment building before letting himself in.

his eyes widened as he found her in a heap on the living room floor. “flower? what happened?”

“h-he was seeing another girl..” she cried, sniffles erupting from her. “who?”

“josh!” she snapped, craning her head to stare at him in irritation. “oh shit..” he muttered.

squatting down beside her, he wrapped two strong arms around her before hoisting her up from the floor. “what are you doing?” she whispered, flailing for a second before relaxing in his tight grip. “well, if you want to feel better, you certainly can’t do it on the floor y/n..”

lying down on the couch, he placed her between his legs, allowing her to get comfortable, just like they used to when they were younger.

shuffling around, she finally settled, resting her head on his stomach. “so what happened y/n?”

“i had a gut feeling he was being shady, so i followed him after he left my apartment, and he was meeting another girl at the island club..” she whimpered, leaning into his touch and he combed his fingers through her hair.

“i just don’t understand why i can’t find someone who loves me, just me!” she exclaimed as hot tears ran down her cheeks. biting his tongue, rafe listened intently as she ranted to him, allowing her to feel comfortable enough to do so.

he struggled as she went on about being unloveable, not good enough, all sorts of unkind things. his tongue poked into his cheek as he sighed in frustration. to him, none of these things were true at all.

“i know someone who loves you, just you..” he mumbled, looking down at her flushed face in awe. craning her neck, she frowned at him. “what did you say?”

“i didn’t say anything..” her frown only got bigger. “liar! what did you say!” she giggled, turning to rest on her knees. “nothing at all” he smirked, amused by her determination.

“you, rafael cameron are a liar, tell me what you said!” she shrieked, a hearty laugh escaping her lips as she moved to straddle him.

“you must be hearing things flower, i didn’t say a word!” he joked, fidgeting with her fingers as she glared at him. “pink promise me right now, that you didn’t say anything!”

bowing his head, he turned away from her invasive stare. “you really want to know what i said?” he groaned, ready to jump off the deep end. “yes” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

“i said, i know someone who loves you, and only you..” he smiled sheepishly, concentrated on gaging her reaction. “oh yeah? who’s that?”

sighing, he swept a palm across his forehead in frustration. “you’ve never been dumb y/n, figure it out…”

after a few minutes, rafe got impatient with her lack of common sense, watching as she gesticulated furiously, lecturing him on make jokes about such a thing when she’s feeling so awful.

“you really are something else huh..” he chuckled, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “what?” she snapped.

sighing, he reached up quickly, cupping her cheeks before pulling her down to meet his lips.

their lips met one another’s with such passion as well as confusion, but y/n wasn’t stopping. her hands quickly found the back of his neck as she pulled him in closer.

pulling away slightly, he trailed wet kisses along her neck and jaw, eliciting quiet whines from her mouth. “you have no idea…how long i’ve waited for this..” he groaned breathlessly, swiftly moving to discard his clothes. mimicking his actions, she stared at him almost in disbelief. “you and me both” she smiled, lipstick and mascara now smeared along her cheeks.

hastily undoing her bra, he pushed her back down onto the couch gently before lowering himself to the floor infront of her. he pressed soft kisses to her inner thighs, while she mewled beneath his tight grip on her hips.

“gotta get rid of these flower..” he whispered, leaving a tentative kiss on her clothed clit.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #outer banks #rafe cameron #outerbanks rafe #obx #rafecameron #rafe obx #dom!rafe #rafe smut #soft!rafe cameron #rafe x y/n #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe outer banks

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i-thirsty-boi · 10 months

Text

Platonic Yandere Jake and Neytiri X Fem Human Child Reader

~A/N: A bit late for the trio of things I planned to post, but here it is! The only bit of plot I will put up here is that the reader is Tommy's daughter, so Jake's niece. And not many physical traits described besides you being small.

Masterlist

CW: yandere behavior (platonic), mild description of character death, mild description of violence, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior

-You had been only 4 years old when your dad died. And because of that, you had been put into the care of your uncle Jake.

-You loved your uncle, but he was sad about your dad passing too, so he hadn’t been fun in a while. But you understood, you were sad about your Daddy being gone too. Your new activity with your uncle was sitting on his lap in his chair.

-Pretty soon, it was time to go to the other planet, and uncle Jake was going too. You had already been approved to go with your Dad, and it was planned for you to get an ‘implant’ in your nose and mouth to be able to breathe right because they didn’t want to make an oxygen mask small enough for you.

-You went onto the ship, running around and talking to all the people you would be living with. Grace was your favorite of the scientists, she was so nice and patient with you.

-But at the end of the day, you were back with your uncle, in his lap. You cuddled into him as you sunk into a nap.

-And Jake had been having a realization. The realization that you were the last thing he had of his family. You had already been precious to him, but now he couldn’t afford to lose you, he’s sure it would kill him.

-He hugged you to himself tightly as he rested his chin on top of your head. He also had a quiet conversation with Grace about you. He didn’t want to disturb you.

-Around the time dinner was ready, you began to stir, and Jake kissed the top of your head before wheeling over to the dining area. This would be the last actual meal before everyone went into cryosleep.

-You peacefully ate your food while still in your uncle’s lap. Then went into the cryopod right next to his, ready to wake up in a new place.

…

-You woke up to your uncle looking down at you. It seemed like you were the last one to wake up. And your face was sore.

-You complained to him about it, groaning while burying your face in his chest.

-Jake just rubbed your back while cooing at you. He said he could get you some painkillers for the soreness. But that it was from the implants being put in, and that it was why you were the last one to wake up.

-You just nodded while clinging onto him, smooshing your face to his chest. Not paying attention to the movement of his wheelchair under you.

-Jake had wheeled you into the dining area and made you a simple sandwich, along with getting some painkillers for you to take with the meal. He locked himself into place at a table and turned you to face the food more. He was happy that he could get you to eat and take the medicine, hopefully you’ll feel better soon.

-As he was hanging out with the scientists, you had started to perk up. He still held you close, eventually asking if you felt better, getting a positive answer too. He just smiled and kissed your head.

…

-It had been a few weeks of settling in and setting all of the equipment up before they were ready to get everyone in their avatar. In that time, Jake had successfully talked someone into making a baby sling to put you in while he was outside.

He had successfully gotten into his avatar, tested it out, and gotten to change into regular clothes before going back to you so they could go outside. He saw you in an adorable, and tiny, version of the outfit he was wearing, just with shorts. He picked you up and cradled you close, finally able to walk around with you. This felt like a blessing.

He went to join the rest of the group, grabbing the sling on his way. He went up to Grace to help him strap you to himself. She tied the sling around him before slipping you into it on his back, facing forward. You squirmed for a bit before settling down, still pouting. Jake just chuckled before telling you that this planet was dangerous and you would be safer like this. You still pouted, but said ‘okay’. He patted your head before moving on.

He was walking through the forest with everyone when he got distracted by something. You turned your head in the same direction as your uncle, squinting into the forest around you. He looked over to the rest of the group, who didn’t look like they would be moving for a while, before walking towards the sound you both heard. He had been walking for a little bit before coming into a small clearing. He turned in a circle before huffing and turning back towards where he came from, patting your head in the meantime.

Though he stopped dead in his tracks as he heard growling coming from behind him. It was a massive creature with six legs and terrifying teeth. As soon as it made the slightest move towards him, he took off running. Luckily you weren’t bouncing too much since the sling was surprisingly secure. He continued sprinting until he came across a cliff with what looked like water at the bottom. He had to make a choice, and it was very easy to make as he heard the thing getting closer to you guys, fast.

He jumped off of the cliff.

-As he was falling he pulled you out of the wrap, pulling you to his chest before you two hit the water. He plugged your nose for you right before you both went under.

-He swam, what he thought, was up as soon as he stopped descending in the water. He took a deep breath as soon as you two resurfaced, flopping onto his back while still holding you.

-As soon as he regained his bearings, he asked you if you were okay. You just said ‘yeah’ before dropping your head back onto him. He laid his hand on your back while he continued taking deep breaths.

-Pretty soon he had recovered enough to stand up, taking you with him. This time, he just held you in his arms as he moved through the forest, putting his jacket around you to hopefully keep you from getting too cold.

-He found another clearing to sit down in for a while. Leaning back against a log to let you rest upright, and hopefully sleep for a little bit.

-Sadly, he was mistaken as another animal came into the clearing and started growling at you guys. He just sighed, because of course this happens to you two.

-He didn’t get the chance to think much of it before a native jumped out from the forest with a bow and killed the animal. Saying what looked like a prayer over the body.

-He jumped up to follow her as she walked back into the forest. He kept trying to talk to her, but she kept ignoring him. He eventually got her to turn around, but she just started lecturing him. He covered your ears as she started insulting him.

-That drew her attention to you, and she hissed at you. He bared his teeth at her and held you closer. He said that she shouldn’t do that to a child.

-Her ears went back before she looked up and stopped talking.

He looked at where she was looking and saw many floating white things coming towards you two. He took a step back before one landed on his shoulder, then yours. You didn’t react, he saw you had fallen asleep while he was following the woman. They continued to land on the two of you until all of his torso was covered, along with your whole body. As soon as they were all situated, they flew away. He looked back at them as they all disappeared into the forest.

He looked back at the woman in front of him, who was looking at the two of you in awe. He just raised a brow at her before she grabbed his free arm and dragged him with her. He just asked where they were going as he started voluntarily following her again. He didn’t get to get an answer before something went around his ankles and he fell off of the log they were moving along.

-He wrapped himself around you as he fell, taking the impact for you. He looked up as multiple male navi came towards him on Pandoran horses.

-He didn’t get a chance to speak before the woman dropped down in front of him and started speaking in navi to the apparent leader of the group. She gestured to them multiple times, he could only assume she was defending them.

-He felt you grip his shirt, so he used his free hand to rub your back.

-They had apparently come to some sort of agreement because she came back over to them and said they would all go to the clan together.

-He followed the group for a while before coming to an absolutely massive tree, going through an archway among the roots of the tree.

-He went until he stopped in the middle of all the people, at the front of the clan apparently. Then a man with more intricate accessories than the rest came in front of him. He briefly looked down at you to check if you were still asleep. You were.

-He kissed the top of your head before the man started speaking at him. Then to the woman who saved you two.

-He asked what he was saying, and she said that her father was deciding whether to kill them or not. He just furrowed his brows and held you closer to him. The man noticed and huffed at him before another navi showed up.

-She had come down from the tree in front of him, making the whole crowd go silent. She walked around him, poking and prodding here and there, before pricking him and tasting the blood. She said that eywa had given her a sign that he and his niece were to be given a chance to learn.

-He thanked her and hugged you close before resting his chin on the top of your head.

The woman came back over to him and told him he would have to change into the clothes of the people. He was taken to a tent and given just a loincloth and some bracelets. He handed you over to her, telling her to take care of you, before going into the tent and changing as quickly as he possibly could. It had taken him a minute to figure out how to put on the loincloth, but he was out of the tent very quickly, taking you back into his arms as soon as he was close enough. The woman huffed and crossed her arms before leading him over to a log to sit down. She got up briefly to get some food for the two of you, which he took from her while gently shaking you awake. You blinked before looking up at him then around you. You just huffed before shifting yourself to sit sideways on his legs.

Jake just chuckled before opening the leaf and unveiling the food he was given by the woman. You leaned over it, sniffing, then reached for some of it. You hesitantly ate the bit you pinched off, and looked pained while chewing it. But you quickly went back for more of it, so Jake assumed it tasted good. He ate a bit of it, having the same series of reactions as you, but ultimately deciding it tasted really good, just different. The two of you quickly finish off the food given to you, Jake using the leaf to wipe off your face then licking his own fingers clean, you doing the same after seeing him do it.

The whole time Neytiri had been watching them with narrowed eyes. She kind of understood why eywa had recognised these sky people. They were very weird to her, but also sweet. They had been focused on each other the whole time, and she was very happy when she had gotten to hold you. She was on the log right next to them, but not involved somehow.

-She scooted closer to you two, then asked what your names were. She was formally introduced to you two, and gave you two her name in return. You smiled up at her and told her she had a pretty name.

-You got a beaming smile in return.

-Neytiri started a conversation with you two while she was finishing her food. She was having a surprisingly good time talking to them. And she was excited for the training she would give them too.

-Pretty soon it was time to go to sleep, though you were already a step ahead of everyone else, having conked out before Neytiri even finished eating.

-Neytiri guided you guys up to some of the empty hammocks, and watched Jake carefully lower himself into one with you laying on his chest. She huffed before laying in the one right beside his, ready for the next day’s lessons.

…

-Jake woke up in the link pod, already missing you but excited to share your experience with the others.

-He enthusiastically shared what happened with Grace and the others, getting positive feedback from it. Though he was sad that he would truly have to wait until the morning to see you again.

-He ate dinner, did his video log, then went to sleep. He will have an eventful day tomorrow, he’s sure.

…

-He woke up in his avatar to you poking his cheek. He playfully bit your fingers to hear you squeal. He grabbed a hold of you and carefully got back out of the hammock. Seeing Neytiri doing the same.

-He got guided back to the logs to eat breakfast with Neytiri and another man from the night before. He got introduced to him, his name was Tsu’tey.

-He got an extra big leaf again, and shared the meal with you. You were still groggy as well, even if you technically woke up before him. He still had a conversation with the two over your head as the two of you ate.

-Neytiri said that she should take you to change into more appropriate clothes as well before the training starts. Jake was very reluctant to let go of you, but ended up handing you over to Neytiri and watching her walk off with you in her arms.

Tsu’tey had given him a weird look and asked him why he was so protective of you. Jake sighed and told him that you were his twin brother’s daughter, and that you were put in his care after Tommy died. Tsu’tey gave a surprisingly understanding look before saying that you seemed very happy with Jake. And Jake just smiled before looking back in the direction you were taken in to see if you were coming back yet.

-When he saw you in the navi clothing, he was a little bit unsure of you having that much skin exposed in case you fell. But knew it would’ve happened as soon as your other clothes had gotten dirty at the latest.

-Neytiri looked pretty pleased with herself. She had chosen a good combo for you, completed with accessories as well.

-She huffed again as you squirmed to get down when you were close to your uncle. But she set you down anyway.

Once you were free, you ran to your uncle as fast as your little legs could take you. You didn’t even get to collide with him before he was picking you up and kissing all over your cheeks. You giggled at him before he set you back in his lap. He told you that you looked very cute in your new clothes, which earned him a very pleased smile from you. The two others that were watching just had small smiles at the sweet moment between you two.

Jake eventually asked where his stuff was taken. They told him the tsahik had it with her, and he requested to go get it before the training. They took him to the tsahik’s hut, and he went to his stuff just to get the baby wrap before going back over to the two navi.

-They looked at him weird as he was tying it around himself, but quickly understood its purpose as he slid you into it on his back.

-You were facing the same way as him, and were resting your chin on his shoulder. He turned to look at you, before blowing a raspberry on your cheek which had you giggling up a storm.

-Neytiri was silently cooing at you, while Tsu’tey huffed at the display.

-It didn’t take long for him to rejoin the small group and set off for his first lessons. Which were apparently with the pandora horses, then some navi language lessons.

-Upon being faced with the direhorse, he realized it may be a bad idea to keep you strapped to him for this activity.

-So, he pulled you out of the wrap and untied it. He was considering telling you to sit against a tree before Neytiri came up and took you into her arms, taking the wrap as well.

-She looked at the wrap before tying it to herself how she had seen Jake do it. When she was done she put you into it, on her front facing her. She looked down at you before going off to the side of the direhorse and giving him some instruction.

-She and you then moved to the side to watch Jake make attempts to get onto the direhorse, which took him multiple minutes. Once he eventually got on it, he then attempted to connect his braid with it, which also took longer than expected. Neytiri gave him some more instructions once more, which made the direhorse race off and eventually throw him off of it.

-You squirmed towards where he fell, but Neytiri just used a hand to rub your back and told you he would be fine, and that this was typical for people that are learning. You just sighed before resting your head on her chest.

-She kept her hand on your back as Jake kept at it until he got the hang of it, which only took about 2 hours.

You were getting restless from being trapped in the wrap all morning. You ran from your uncle trying to hug you because, according to you, he was ‘stinky and yucky’. He eventually caught you and hugged you, making you squeal and slap at him. Neytiri eventually suggested taking you to a small lake to bathe before having some lunch before the language lessons. So, Jake carried you while following Neytiri to the lake to bathe you and himself.

It didn’t take long to make it there, and you were immediately wiggling to be put down. As soon as your feet touched the ground, you took off running and jumped into the water. And you were immediately giggling and swimming around once you came back to the surface. The two adults were smiling at you before taking off their extra accessories before jumping into the water themselves. They both chased after you in the water, Neytiri getting to you first and lightly tossing you into the air before putting you back into the water. You were all smiles as the two of them took turns playing with you while getting clean. They took longer than usual bathing, but couldn’t be bothered to care because of the fun you were having.

-After you were all clean, you all went back to the heart of the clan to have a light lunch before the language lessons.

-You all got some fruits and leftover meat from breakfast before sitting on a log to eat. You ate and talked, getting attention from both of the adults with you. You faintly wondered if this was what it felt like to have a mom and a dad. It felt nice. You leaned on Neytiri as Jake handed you another small piece of fruit.

-You happily ate all of the food they gave you, but eventually hopped off of the log and whined at them to get going for the lessons.

-Both of them just chuckled before getting up and walking to a clearing while each held one of your hands. You also took the opportunity to swing between them because of how tall and strong they were.

-You had been having so much fun on this planet, even if there were some scary parts so far.

-You were, surprisingly, not bored during the lesson and picked up the language pretty quickly. Jake put more effort into it because of how into it you were.

-Though maybe he also wanted to impress Neytiri. He thought she was beautiful. A wonderful woman.

-He wanted to impress her, but even that came behind taking care of you.

…

-It had been two months of more lessons, and Jake doing more video logs to document the findings he was making on the navi. But he was more concerned with the changes he was seeing while he was navi.

-He had been getting a lot more affection than normal from you, and saw Neytiri letting her walls down around him. He was making breakthroughs with both of you and he couldn’t be happier.

-You had been actively dividing your attention between your uncle and Neytiri, because you were honestly starting to see them as your mom and dad, because they had been taking these roles for the entire time you had been with the clan.

-And you felt like they thought the same with how much they’ve been doting on you. And you’ve been soaking it up the whole time.

-Also during the times where you had been napping throughout the day, Jake and Neytiri had gotten a lot closer too. They had even bonded just by caring for you together. They looked at each other in a different light.

And it was one night of them bringing you back to the hammocks to sleep that changed everything for them. Neytiri had been the one carrying you back after they had been working on the language lessons then playing around with you until it was time to go to sleep. As you made it to the point where she had to hand you off to Jake so he could hold you in his hammock, and as she was moving you, you said “Night night Mama.” Neytiri was so shocked and overjoyed that she started crying while holding you closer to her. Jake had heard what you said and smiled before getting closer and rubbing your back. You were still very sleepy, but reached for him while calling him ‘Papa’. He also started crying and couldn’t stop himself from hugging both of you at once.

You were smiling in your sleep while soaking up the attention from them once again.

…

-Jake woke up in the link pod already smiling and on the verge of tears. He was just so happy.

-Grace came up to him, very concerned for him. She frantically asked what was wrong.

-Jake just continued to shed tears before saying, “She did it. She called me her dad!” He started sobbing while hugging Grace tightly.

-She laughed before hugging him back, putting him back in his wheelchair right after. She brought him over to the other scientists and said they needed to celebrate the new father amongst them. Everyone cheered before having a big dinner together to celebrate.

…

-Jake had been completely forgetting about the RDA while with the navi, because they made him happier than their acceptance ever did. He acknowledged that they had given him a mission, but chose to not necessarily comply with it.

-He then realized that since he had the trust of the people, he could warn them of the impending attack from the RDA. He felt it was the right thing to do.

-He brought it up with Neytiri first, while you were napping in her lap after lunch. He told her that, in his human body, he had heard of the planned attack the night before. She looked at him with wide eyes before hugging you closer to her.

-She asked what they should do. And Jake sighed before saying that her father needed to know so that the warriors could stop them before they destroyed the hometree.

-Neytiri just firmly nodded before saying that they should go tell him now, so that they had enough time to plan their own attack.

-Jake said he also needed to let his closest friends at the labs know what’s happening, so that they could make sure he could stay in that body during the attack. Neytiri teared up while nodding again.

-They both quickly made their way back to the village to talk to Eytukan. Neytiri told Jake that they should leave you with Mo’at while discussing these matters, and he very reluctantly agreed.

Once you were dropped off with the assurances that you would be well taken care of, they made their way to the olo’eyktan. On the way, they came across Tsu’tey and began dragging him with them. He protested but Neytiri just hissed at him while continuing to drag him by the arm. Once they made it to him, Neytiri demanded that everyone besides the four of them leave. Her father was confused, but didn’t protest when seeing the serious look on his daughter’s face.

It didn’t take long for the hut to empty out. And Neytiri just immediately said what was wrong. Tsu’tey and Eytukan were floored by the news, but immediately started asking questions. Jake stepped in and told them everything he knew from his time as a human recently. They all listened intently, before coming up with a plan to be ready to fight before the humans were. They knew they would show up in a week, and they would be ready.

…

-The omatikaya had been preparing all week. Along with the closest people to Jake in the labs.

-Jake had been going back and forth with Neytiri, and even Tsu’tey, to make a temporary shack for the avatars and link pods with the clan. They had even moved as many things there as they could without the RDA soldiers noticing.

-They had even gotten Grace to reunite with the clan because of it, making her and all of the children happy.

-The night before the attack was supposed to happen, they had moved everything else over to the shack that they hadn’t already.

-And in the cover of the night, the clan set off on all of their available creatures and launched a great attack on the human buildings. Trudy dropped bombs on the buildings to open them up for the people’s arrows.

-Many of the soldiers woke up and started to fight back, but didn’t last long enough against the forces against them.

-They fought hard for the entire night before they stopped seeing movement in all of the buildings. But it wasn’t the end of it. There was an explosive flying back at them, making the warriors take a retreat for the progress made. They whooped as they went back to the clan, confident they could beat any of the remaining humans to the ground should they become a problem for them.

…

-Jake and Neytiri had gotten even closer as they kept taking care of you together in the roles of your mom and dad. And you were enjoying it just as much as them.

-They had left you with Grace for the night while Neytiri took Jake to the spirit tree. She asked him some pointed questions before admitting their feelings for one another.

-Things happened and they had officially bonded and mated before eywa. Committing to each other, and acknowledging their commitment to you. They were your parents, and now they were officially together.

-Though in the morning, there was a small fight between Jake and Tsu’tey, which Neytiri intervened in before the matter was settled. And Neytiri accepted that she was giving up her chance to be tsahik to be with Jake.

And you yourself didn’t know what was happening, but still went to hug your parents after the fighting stopped. Which they both reciprocated with enthusiasm, before explaining the reason the fight started. That Neytiri was supposed to be with Tsu’tey for responsibilities, but chose to be with Jake instead. You accepted that easily before excitedly asking them if they were really together now. You got enthusiastic cheek kisses while they confirmed. You giggled while hugging them tighter, excited to officially have parents.

And the both of them pulled you closer and soaked in the moment. Happy to continue as an official family.

…

-It had been another month and the clan hadn’t heard anything from the remaining humans yet, but knew they should expect something at some point.

-Jake was out hunting with the other men of the clan and Neytiri was taking you for a walk in the forest to spend time with you while gathering fruit for the communal dinner that would happen.

-She had a large basket that was half full at that point and you were bouncing along beside her while looking at the fruits in the trees around you two.

-She had lifted you up to grab one of the fruits when she heard rustling from beside the two of you. She immediately froze and silently moved to set you down while pulling out the knife she had on her. You had noticed what she was doing and shrunk in on yourself while backing toward one of the trees beside you.

-Neytiri had been scanning the forest around you two before spotting one of the smaller predators creeping up behind you. She waited with baited breath as it got closer before lunging and striking it with her knife just before it could touch you.

-You shrieked as it went down right behind you. Tears came to your eyes as Neytiri said a prayer over its body before coming back over to check on you.

-She was kneeled in front of you, turning you back and forth to check you over when she noticed a small cut, made by a claw no doubt, on the back of your arm. She immediately gasped before clutching you close to her, grabbing the half full basket of fruit, and running back to the village to bring you to her mother.

-Almost everyone’s heads turned when she frantically ran through the village and to the tsahik’s hut. As soon as her mother was in sight she called out to her while setting down the basket before sitting down in front of her mother with you in her lap.

-Mo’at was already at attention before her daughter sat down. She didn’t see any obvious problem with you other than some teary eyes, but knelt down in front of you two anyway. Neytiri looked panicked while showing her mother the cut on your arm while telling her what had happened.

-Mo’at just sighed and shook her head at her daughter before saying you were probably more scared than anything and it would heal quickly.

-Neytiri sighed while hugging you close as her mother cleaned your arm before putting a healing paste on it before wrapping a leaf around it. Then told her she could take it off of your arm the next day, as the cut should be scabbed by then.

-Neytiri thanked her mother before taking you and the basket back to the rest of the people, the men that went on the hunt coming back just in time.

-She had sat down in a circle of other women that had gathered to cut up the fruit they gathered. She spotted Jake amongst the men, and as soon as he saw the leaf on your arm he started running over.

-He knelt down next to you and looked you over while asking what happened. And you told him the whole story, happy to tell him that your mommy saved you. He sighed before pulling you into his arms and kissing your head.

-You looked between the both of them confused, but settled into their arms anyway.

-And throughout the rest of the night, both of them hovered over you and coddled you.

…

-It had been another month of the same coddling and smothering, and you loved your parents but wished you could go play with the other kids in the village. You didn’t understand why they wouldn’t let you join in on the games they played.

-They were both really protective of you. And even more so when one of the warriors flew over the human buildings and noticed some serious movement in them, which got reported to the olo’eyktan right away.

-They knew they would have to fight again, and they were ready. They just worried about how it would affect you. They couldn’t let anything happen to them or you.

…

-They won the battle, but losses happened anyway. Unfortunately, Trudy didn’t make it. Everyone attended the funeral.

-You understood what that meant, having dealt with this with your father too.

-After the battle though, everyone in the labs had to do some major thinking on what would happen to their avatars since they didn’t have any backup batteries for the linkpods anymore.

-They decided they would go to the tsahik for advice.

-They made the journey to the spirit tree, and received their answer. They would have to walk through the eye of eywa, and return their soul to the avatar body. It seemed like a tough task.

-They notified the clan, and received nothing but support. So, they picked a night to do the transfers.

-They laid everyone on the ground at the roots of the tree, and the ritual started. The entire clan connected to the tree as well, and Mo’at began the chants needed. It was very nerve wracking, but it surprisingly worked for everyone. Jake, Grace, Norm, and Max could now live on Pandora amongst the people without worrying about oxygen masks.

-You ran up and hugged all of them once they stood up, getting squished into the hug by your mom and dad.

-And afterwards the entire clan had a big celebration for its new members. Everyone was happy to be together, and with their enemy seemingly gone.

-Though you had drifted off to sleep in your new grandmother’s arms before the night was even over. Mo’at figured she would be babysitting for the night so her daughter and Jake could spend the night together as a celebration of his new body.

-Though she guessed wrong as her daughter and Jake came up to her to grab you and make their way over to the new hammock they got with you. Mo’at just shook her head before going back over to her husband.

-Meanwhile, Jake and Neytiri had acquired their own bigger hammock like the smaller families in the clan have. And they brought you into it with them to sleep together as a family for the first night with Jake in his avatar body full time.

…

To be continued…

Taglist: @eywas-heir , @doggyteam2028 , @zeeader , @onlyreadz , @ratchetprime211

#platonic yandere #awotw x reader #awotw #awotw x child reader #yandere #child reader #jake x neytiri #jake sully #neytiri

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leqonsluv3r · 4 months

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Hey how's it going? I was wondering if you would do an imagine of re4r Leon x Wesker reader, where she is Wesker's daughter

heartbeat

re4!leon kennedy x weskers!daughter reader

— a oneshot (request)

warnings: MDNI, 18+, enemies to lovers basic troupe (bc i can and im a slut for it), some foul language, mentions of readers raging daddy issues (thanks wesker), age difference by like a few years (reader is 21 and leon is 27), reader is female and uses (she/her) pronouns, smut (obviously), unprotected sex (for the love of god please wrap it), praise (and some small degradation), hair pulling, he slaps her once, spanking, slightly soft!dom leon, bratty and stubborn asf reader and whatever foul things i’m forgetting

“he sees her in a way that makes her bones ache, like the oncoming of a storm or a tornado before it wipes people out. she sees it, whenever she’s unfortunate enough to run into him. she sees the way he looks down at her (and not just for her age, or her height) but for who her dad is. albert wesker. did she ever want to be born? carry that title at the agency? fuck no, she never did. but leon, looking down at her like scum off of his shoe…only made her burn more. in a way that was dangerous, yet thrilling.”

— or leon finally has enough of weskers daughters shit and decides to put her in her place

an: this request is hopefully what you asked for anon? and if not, so sorry in advance lol. i just took your idea and ran with it. also, it’s super long, i got carried away. also making up for how long i haven’t posted. pls enjoy <3

hate it’s a very strong word. it’s the only word she’s ever used to describe dislikes and things she’d rather not talk about.

she hates leon, even though she’s not supposed to. she’s supposed to like him, be buddy buddy with him but she can’t bring herself to be. not when he looks at her like she killed his family.

she didn’t, just for some context.

she’s tried to reconcile with the feeling of him glaring daggers at her every five seconds whenever they’re in the same room. or the way he looks when someone else mentions your name. it’s almost like a fun drinking game.

see how many times leon can glare at you in one social gathering before your hammered. she would play it if she drank, just to ease some of the tension of the heated looks that coated his blue eyes.

and what did she ever do to him anyways? absolutely nothing. she just existed and apparently, just like her father, that was enough to make her scum on the bottom of the hypothetical shoe.

her father, that was another reason she hated when leon would glare at her. it’s like that’s all he could see, she could see the hatred burn in his irises like the plague. a hatred for her, her father and seemingly all the things that her father had done wrong.

which was a lot, to be fair.

but having to be right next to leon, while your father talked to you both, it was like she was in her worst nightmare and she could pinch herself just so she would wake up.

that was what was happening right now, sitting in the organizations main office, ada standing idle at the door, almost as if she was guarding it from her or leon making a run for it.

she did not want to be here with her enemy and the guy she hates sitting next to her while they wait for her father. leon apparently didn’t want to be here either, if his grumbles and small looks of discomfort were any indicator.

he was literally sitting in his rivals office, sneaking glances at ada every so often, sending small glares in your direction, all while they waited for your father to make his designated appearance.

eventually ada gets uncomfortable with the silence and the looks and leaves, probably to stand outside the room. you thank god, crossing your legs in your chair and scooting it away from leon’s figure in the chair next to her.

it’s like the tension could be cut in this room with a knife, she could see him glaring at her out of the corner of her eye. subtle glares that she could pinpoint not just from her endless training but from the fact of leon’s obvious lack of subtlety.

“can i help you? or would you rather just keep glaring at me like i killed your puppy?” she says with a small sudden look in his direction, catching him head on. he scoffs and crosses his arms over his chest, tossing some of his hair out of his eyes, “i don’t have to answer you.” he responds.

“at least you can fucking speak. i thought you only could communicate with grunts and scoffs.” she says with a small sarcastic smile, looking directly at him as if to size him up or something. she knew she could probably take him if it came to that. the thought excited her but also made her heart pick up.

he mutters something to himself and doesn’t say anything, which is typical leon behavior when he’s even in the same vicinity as her. she didn’t know why her father wanted them both here.

and she had no clue why she was literally being forced to sit in a room with someone who avoided her like the plague. she shifts in her seat and looks down at her lap again, drumming her manicured hands against her knee and bouncing her leg as she waited.

the silence was almost as thick as the tension, it could probably swallow them both if they weren’t careful. “can you stop doing that?” she hears him say in a low voice. she rolls her eyes internally, what was his problem now?

“stop doing what?” she says in a small snap, obviously irritated as she whips her head in his direction to look at him. his blue eyes were hard, stone like and it felt like he could freeze her just with a look. she was surprised that she wasn’t.

“tapping your leg. moving it. just stop.” he says as he glances towards her legs crossed over each other in the chair, one bouncing regularly as she just sat there and did absolutely nothing.

seriously? what is his fucking deal? she thinks to herself as she rolls her eyes at him again, ignoring his request as she continues to bounce her foot in her chair. she simply uncrosses them and lets her boot clad feet rest on the floor, still bouncing one leg.

he shoots her daggers, like a look that could slice her skin clean open. she didn’t dare look at him, knowing that she was pushing him, making him more annoyed and irritated. but she didn’t really care, she just wanted her dad to be here so she could get the fuck away from leon and his penetrating look.

he doesn’t say anything, the glares and sighs and scoffs never ending as she kept bouncing her knee as she anxiously waited. eventually, he got fed up and slammed a hand down on her knee that was bouncing.

“enough. i said quit it.” he says in a low voice towards her, leaning over the arm of his chair so that he could make his message quite clear: don’t fuck with him. she swallows and her eyes go a tad wide, she looks down at the knee he’s holding, his hand so large over her knee it makes images appear in her mind that she wants to not have right now.

“okay, jesus. i won’t do it anymore, just let go of me.” she says in irritated tone, moving her knee and her entire chair away from him. he slips his hand away and just presses his lips together, his jaw clenching like a fist. she swallows subtly and just keeps herself away from him.

“good. your finally fucking learning something.” he says in a small smirk finds its way onto his lips, she doesn’t dare look over at him fully. settling for the peripheral view of him in his chair next to hers, sitting behind the desk.

she doesn’t have a chance to ask him what he means before the door opens and albert wesker finally makes his long delayed appearance. and for once, she’s glad her father is actually in the room, the lesser of two evils at the moment.

but it still rings in her mind, what did leon mean? what did any of this mean? and…why did that touch on her knee send her into such a wave of confusion? she’d hope that some questions would be silently answered soon.

turns out that the reason they were both there, was not for some lecture or some lesson. but rather for leon to teach her more about discrepancy during missions. which unfortunately for her meant that she had to train with him.

leon wasn’t thrilled about it either, he looked like he was about ready to punch her dad when he made the suggestion. and he argued, “why me? why not someone from this organization? why the rivals?” whining like a child who got paired with another child he didn’t like.

she would’ve laughed if her father wasn’t staring directly at her, glaring like she would get reprimanded for looking at him funny. but wesker didn’t answer leon’s question, just annoyingly stated that it was because he said, and unfortunately for the both of them thats how they ended up in their current position.

standing in a training room at the DSO, letting him attempt to teach her some moves. which if his instruction wasn’t good, she would be totally lost. at least he had that going for him.

she was offended by her father’s statement, not living up to his fucking beyond perfect standards. like no matter what she did, whatever mission she completed…it was like it meant nothing to him.

like she was just supposed to be just like him, stoic and untouchable. she wasn’t, she was nothing like him and he had to know that or he wouldn’t push her so hard and break her down like this.

knowing her weak spot of hatred for leon kennedy, using him as an excuse so she could get pushed harder and harder until she eventually broke into pieces. knowing how this would all play out, letting leon have his fun with throwing punches and swings her way like he’s probably always wanted too.

this is their third training session, the first two sessions spanned two weeks after the discussion with her father in the organization’s office. during this particular training session leon had been giving her shit, trying to poke at her, hitting all her weak spots that she didn’t even know she had.

“step into it and actually act like you want to hit me.” he says harshly as he looks down at her, his chest rising and falling fast as he pulls her up harshly off the matted floor. she swallows and tries to catch her breath.

“i do want to hit you. just not for training purposes.” she hisses as she lets him pull her up roughly by her arm, landing on her own two feet again, pulling out of his grab on her arm. he sends her a disappointing look, “funny.” he deadpans as he looks at her.

“oh yeah, fucking hysterical.” she moves back away from him, moving hair behind her shoulder as she does, going to the edge of the mat in the training room. he lets out a sarcastic chuckle, “maybe if you fucking hit me like you were supposed too-“

“shut up! shut the fuck up. i will hit you. i will.” she says in a hiss as she comes charging towards him, almost sprinting as she tries to land a punch to his face but he blocks her faster, holding her fist in his large hand. “enough.” he demands, pushing her fist away harshly.

he spoke in that same tone like he did four weeks ago and she felt something in her falter. something weaken, like a dying fire inside of her bones and body. she stopped, for her own good, dropping her hand back by her side.

“you need to stop being so fucking counter intuitive with your movements. i could see that weak punch coming from a mile away.” he explains as firmly as he could, sending a small look of irritation her direction. she catches the look, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest.

“and how does one do that?” she says with a small look of annoyance and obvious boredom. something happening within her at his firm tone that she couldn’t quite place. it just felt different, she didn’t know how to feel about it.

he takes a step towards her, slow and methodical. he takes her hand that attempted to throw a punch at her, he makes a fist with her smaller hand, forming a punch gesture. “this,” he raises her formed fist by her wrist. her breath faltering a little as he does this.

“you never ever want to form a loose fist, ever. first step,” he says with conviction and firmness, she can’t even pretend to be irritated. not now, not with his hands on her hand and his tone so firm and reprimanding.

“fist tight, curled knuckles but keep them out.” he says as he runs the pads of his fingers over her knuckles, smoothing them out as if they were ripples in the sea. she simply lets him, not having the fight left in her to even move. she simply swallows and nods, as if she could focus on his direction right now.

“second thing,” he holds her wrist up with the curled fist he formed with her fingers, “always aim with purpose. always throw your punch with intention.” he says firmly, looking down deep into her eyes as he did so the message came across.

he chuckles dryly, “not like you did before when you charged at me.” he states, holding her tiny wrist in his large hand. proving his point further by dropping her hand back down at her side. her fist uncurling as a breath is released from her lips.

“now, let’s try another defense, practice the punch and do what i told you. maybe you won’t be entirely unfortunate.” he says with a small crooked smirk, mocking her obviously as he backed up. she didn’t have it in her to poke him back, she didn’t even know what was happening to her.

like she had been reduced to a puddle at his hands, only a simple touch on her hand, a firm tone and a teaching. not even a lecture, just a simple firm instruction. she was confused, but she would continue.

even though her insides felt strange and uncomfortable, like a change that was happening inside of her that she couldn’t even pinpoint and she hated it.

a month into training sessions and she still felt that weird feeling in her body whenever his tone was firm and hard towards her, like a scolding parent.

but now it was different, she felt like she was suddenly awakened. like a part of her was different. she knew it wasn’t just his training. she could tell that much, leon must’ve sensed something.

because now he’s talking to her as they sit down on the bench of the D.S.O training room, her body turned towards him, crossing her legs in her lap. she sips from her water bottle, wiping her sweaty forehead as she feels his presence next to her on the bench.

“does it hurt?” he asks suddenly, making her snap her eyes towards him, her brows furrowed. she’s surprised he wasn’t bickering with her or lecturing her on her performance in his training he’s been giving her.

“does what hurt?” she asks as she swallows the water, looking at him, brushing some sweaty hair out of her eyes from her forehead. her water bottle clenched firmly in her lap, adjusting on the bench.

he sighs and leans forward a little, propping his elbows on his knees. she keeps her eyes trained on him, where they about to have a heart to heart? seriously? she could act shocked, but deep down within her she felt something shift. “your relationship with your father. does it hurt?” he asks in almost a whisper. like it wasn’t supposed to be spoken.

she parts her lips a little, glancing down at her water bottle as she tried to think of an answer. did it hurt? did the relationship with her father, the untouchable albert wesker, hurt?

if it was like asking if a cactus hurt if you touched it, or if fire burned you if you got too close.

she already knew her answer after a few beats of silence, keeping her legs crossed on the bench. she swallows, words that have wanted to be long awaited left her mouth, “yeah, it hurts. but not for the reasons you probably think.” she responds softly.

he glances over his shoulder at her, letting it sink in, letting her response soak into his bones. “what reasons then?” he asks her, moving some of his hair out of his eyes with a small move of his head. he needed to know if his suspicions were correct or not.

or if he had been hating her almost unprovoked by the simple nature of who her dad was.

she takes a glance back up at him, looking at the way his muscles strained against the back of his t-shirt that he had worn to training today. she feels heat pool between her legs and bites her lip, a response to his question on the tip of her tongue.

“he expects perfection, all the time. blood or not blood. and it’s like no matter what i do, no matter how many missions i go on, it’s never enough.” she explains as she tries to focus on the conversation with him, she can’t deny that her gaze on him could burn holes if she looked hard enough.

and the uncomfortable pooling in her underwear did not help this situation one bit.

but still she continues, “being his daughter is a burden when it should feel like a blessing.” she whispers as she blinks her eyes, the truth felt freeing even if it was to leon, an enemy almost turned acquaintance in this past month.

he looks over at her again, leaning up and settling straight against the bench. he looks almost like he’s finally understanding now. getting both sides of the story. like he had been looking at his enemy or his competitor as one, when really it was just her and wesker.

she wasn’t him, he knew that now. he needed to be sure and now he was. he felt guilty like he had hated this girl forever for no purpose entirely, just because her father had a tainted reputation within all agency’s.

“is it really that bad?” he asks softly, again, almost as if he’s afraid to ask it. like it had been so bad hypothetically and it was too much. leon fears he already knows the answer to his question.

his blue eyes look over her sweaty and worn out frame, sitting innocently criss crossed on the bench next to him in the training room. she looked like a hurt little girl who had scraped her knee on the pavement and now leon was the one to tend to her wounds.

not her father.

“my last mission, i went to aruba. i took down an entire fleet of enemies and people without batting an eye. i typed up the report, gave it back to him and instead of saying good job, anything…he told me that my diligence was sloppy and unnecessary.” she says with a small swallow as she looks down at her water bottle in her lap, blinking some water away from her eyes.

tears or sweat? who knew.

her hair followed her, curtaining her face only slightly. as she let out a pained laugh, shaking her head, leon had opened the emotional can of worms without even potentially realizing it. “as if me taking down people, almost an entire colony, meant nothing to him.” she cracks out, taking a small shaky breath.

she looks over at him with a slightly pained expression, moving her hair out of her eyes. he could see it in her eyes when she looked at him. he wishes he could fix what damage wesker had done by simply being her father.

but he knew he couldn’t. he could only stop hating her, and that was easier said than done. but he could try, make her have something or rather someone to latch onto, to reprimand her in a way that didn’t damage her self esteem.

“what if i told you that i don’t want to be at your throat anymore? what would you say to that?” he says with a small press of his lips, looking over her sweaty and exhausted body. his cock hardened in his training gear of the thought of what lie beneath her workout outfit.

god, what would her lips feel like? sucking him off, pretty and perfect as he slid his dick into her mouth. probably look up at him all teary eyed and desperate. hell, she would probably thank him for it.

he was trying to ignore it, his dick twitching in his pants as he saw her think over his words, the gears turning in her brain.

she felt her lips part, a small breath leaving her. was it shock? some undercurrent of happiness? she didn’t know she couldn’t piece it together right now. not when she was trying to ignore her arousal and stay focused on the words coming out of leon’s mouth.

“i’d like that a lot.” she responds with a small smile, one that he hadn’t seen before. one that she hadn’t let grace her face in years it felt like. he knew this wasn’t going to be easy, being so close to her now, not being enemies.

but still, that understanding was there. she didn’t need him hating on her anymore, sending glares that were clearly reserved for her dad, her way. she didn’t deserve that, even if her father seemed like the evil embodiment of everything he hated.

he could see she was nothing like that, he smiles only slightly and nods, “alright. friends? acquaintances?” he says with a small stick out of his hand towards her. she looks down at it, swallowing thickly, his hands painting images in her mind that weren’t exactly appropriate right now.

she nods, still smiling, “friends.” she says softly and reaches out to wrap her hand around his, shaking it. his size so clearly dwarfed hers. her heart swelled a little, her core pulsing.

they were both lying to themselves and so obviously aroused, it was only a matter of time before the tension snapped. and all hell would break loose.

the next week, she walks into the D.S.O training room and she’s nervous, nervous for what? she’s not even sure but she sees him sitting on the bench like he was last week when they agreed to be friends.

he sees her walk in, she notices something different in his gaze this time but she’s not sure what. he looks almost…hungry. like he could just devour her with one look. “hey, sorry i’m late…” she begins to apologize and he stops her with his words.

she drops her workout bag on the bench, “don’t worry about it. but i have something in mind that’s different today.” he says with a small glance over her legging and sports bra clad body.

he already felt half-hard, just looking over her body and her curves. how he could get over the hate, see her as something so attractive and so delicate was beyond his comprehension. all he knew was he had to have her now, he had been thinking about this all week.

she didn’t know what he meant, she did know that he looked at her in a way no one ever had before, something deep and unrecognizable to the untrained eye. “what did you have in mind?” she asks quietly as she looks over into his eyes, her body trying to find out what he had in store for her.

he got up off the bench and stepped towards her, looking down at her with his hungry blue eyes. “you’re attracted to me.” he just states, keeping her eyes pinned on his.

she blinked up at him and nervously laughed, “what are you talking about?” she tried to brush it off as she looks up at him, trying to fool him with a nervous smile. “are you…are you trying to mess with me leon? it’s not funny.” she releases a shaky breath again.

he chuckles, shaking his head as he looks down at her, finding her idea of trying to mask it adorable. he reaches up and tucks some of the loose strands of hair behind her ear. “no, i’m not messing with you. you need my guidance, you need to be taught a lesson. but i’m not doing it unless you want me to.” he says with conviction.

she shivers at his warm touch on her skin, simply innocent but making butterflies and arousal occur to her body. he wouldn’t do it…unless she wanted him too? what could he possibly be talking about? did he mean…?

“are-are you talking about…?” she breathes shakily as she looks up at him, her chest rising and falling fast as she does. “sex?” she whispers and it doesn’t even sound like she’s saying it. the words feel so alien coming out of her mouth.

he nods slowly, tracing his hand that was fixing her hair down to her chin. “if that’s what you want, yes. your attracted to me, i’m attracted to you and we don’t hate each other anymore.” he points these things out as a storm of emotions swirls around in her head.

he’s attracted to me? to me? the person he hated and glared at for as long as she knew him. she almost couldn’t believe it. but she got over it quickly, realizing that he was offering sex…with him to her so freely and openly.

“those are your only…reasons?” she whispers softly as she looks up into his eyes, blinking steadily as she tries to reconcile and decide within her brain what she wants to do.

“i have plenty of reasons. but those are the only ones you need to know right now. don’t believe me?” he says with a small look of intimidation in his eyes, because why would she believe him considering her history even though they were “friends” now.

she slowly shakes her head, he grabs her hand in a firm grasp like he did when he was showing her how to form a fist. he leads it down to the front of his pants, his half hard cock in his jeans resting underneath her hand. she swallows as she maintains contact with his pant clad erection.

“you see now? you understand? hmm?” he leans into her neck and whispers those words hotly against her skin, causing goosebumps to erupt all over; pebbling her skin. arousal finding its way uncomfortably more beneath her leggings.

she nods wordlessly, looking at him as he keeps his head by her neck, he chuckles lowly. “use your words, you know how to talk baby. i know you do.” she can feel his smirk against her skin as he says that.

“yes, i understand.” she says in a soft voice that sounds nothing like her own. she moves her hand from his erection in his pants to his chest, rubbing her hand over his t-shirt, feeling his muscles beneath it.

“good girl. now, i am going to fuck you.” he says in her ear, her hole pulsing at the praise around nothing. she doesn’t even have it in her to care anymore, she’s losing all sense of rational thought at his close proximity.

she hums, feeling his lips ghost over her neck as he dangerously presses a kiss to it her skin, nibbling at it. she finds herself making a small noise that’s trapped in the back of her throat.

she practically melts under his touch, grasping onto his t-shirt. “don’t worry baby. i’ll take care of you. tell me you want it. or should i find out on my own?” he says lowly in almost a predatory growl against her neck. she shivers at his words, only imagining what he could mean by that. “i want it. i want…i want you to fuck me.” she says in a slightly whiny voice.

it’s hard to believe that it’s even her, she feels nothing like herself pressed up against him, his lips nibbling and sucking at her neck, his hands ghosting her waist. she’s not in control anymore like she usually is and it feels nice to hand it over to him, especially like this.

he smirks into her neck again, pulling his lips away from her sweet pale skin. he chuckles lowly, “good. now,” he steps back and looks down at her, looking at her sports bra, “take that off.” she blinks up at him with dreary eyes, she follows his orders though.

not having it in her to say no at this point. she pulls the zipper that’s down the front of it, the material underneath a little sheer. he can see the outline of her hardened nipples barely underneath. she continues to take it off, unclipping it from the front and letting her breasts spill out of it.

goosebumps all along her bare upper half as she feels his lustful glare penetrating her chest. eyeing her breasts with hunger. she lets the useless sports bra slip onto the floor. the cold air kissing her skin.

he reaches out and massages her breasts, “mmm, imagined how they looked. gotta say, i’m not disappointed.” he says with a smirk, he guides her over to the bench, nudging her to lay down, her head resting on the bare wood as he straddles the bench. he grabs her legs lifting them up over his shoulders, each ankle resting on his shoulders.

“mmm,” he leans down and presses his mouth to her chest, taking each nipple into his mouth while massaging the other, tweaking the nipples in his hands. she writhes underneath him, making small noises, her thighs pressed up to her stomach as he leans over her and devours her chest.

she lets it slip once, only once and once it does she regrets it. everything just feels so good and his mouth working on her chest is enough for it to slip out in ecstasy. “daddy…” she moans softly.

her body freezes up a little, waiting for him to recoil, to push her away and make her put her sports bra back on. but instead he looks up from her chest, releasing one of her breasts with a small pop. his gaze even hungrier if that was even possible.

“you gonna let daddy fuck your pussy?” he says in a low rasp as he grasps at her chest again, massaging her breasts again that he had devoured. she doesn’t act shocked that he agreed to the name, she just nods mindlessly.

“good girl.” he says with a small chuckle, leaning back. he lets his hands slide down from her breasts to the hem of her leggings, pulling them down with fervor. he scoots back and pulls them off of her legs, throwing them on the floor by her discarded sports bra of the training room floor.

he gets up from the bench, popping the button on his pants and pulling them down his legs, kicking them off with his shoes, removing hers as well. she looks at his large erection that’s straining in his boxers, a small spot of precum on the top where the tip must be.

she swallows a small noise as she lays her head back down on the bench, her eyes staring up at the ceiling. he looks down at her body, “no underwear? did you know this would happen? or are you just being a naughty little girl?” he says with a mocking tone as he catches her trying to press her thighs together where she lays on the bench.

she looks up at him from where she lays against the bench, she shakes her head. “i’m not naughty. my underwear…they just get ruined too easily, daddy.” he tilts his head with a small smirk, “is that so? are you lying princess?” he says as he straddles the bench again, pulling her by her ankles close to his boxer clad erection.

she shakes her head feverishly as if she could lie to him, he leans over her, lightly smacking her cheek, “your just desperate for my dick baby? is that it? even being near me and your soaking.” he says with a small mocking laugh as she just gazes bleary eyed back at him.

the light tingle of his small smack against her cheek makes her body light up like an electric shock, her hole clenching around nothing. the degrading going deep to her core, everything that he’s saying is just making her painfully more aroused.

her core is practically aching for him at this point. she nods up at him, “yes, daddy.” she says with a small whimper, he smirks and shakes his head, looking down at her glistening pussy.

“mmm, yeah, pretty tits and a pretty pussy. your just a beautiful sight baby.” he says with a small hum. she feels herself whimper softly and become wetter at just his words of praising her body. “your practically leaking on the bench, but don’t worry. i won’t leave you waiting for long.” he says with a small smack to her pussy, making her back arch and release a strangled noise.

“dirty girl.” he says with malice, he gets up again, walking over to the training room door, locking it and making sure no one could even look in here. he then takes his shirt off and walks towards her again, “on all fours baby, do it for daddy.” he says with a small gesture of his hands.

she bites her lips and shakily gets up off of the bench and gets on all fours, he grabs her duffle and puts his t-shirt on it, moving so she can rest her head on it for stability. he crawls behind her on the bench, rubbing the flesh of her ass with his large hands.

“such a pretty ass too, baby. hmmm,” he says in fascination as he lightly skims his fingers over her asshole, making her keel forward a little into his bunched up shirt on her duffle bag. he grabs her hip with one hand, keeping her in place. “nuh-uh, no moving from daddy.” he says with a small groan. he lightly smacks her ass, making her moan softly into the fabric of his t-shirt.

he feels a grin slide onto his face, “you like that? of course you do. your a naughty little girl.” he says and adds another smack to her other cheek. she releases another muffled moan into his t-shirt again.

he chuckles slowly, licking his lips. he leans back and pulls his boxers down, releasing his cock. he sighs in relief, finally able to breathe a little bit. “i’ll give my baby what she wants, even if she’s a naughty little slut.” he says with another smack to her ass, she keels forward again, her stomach arching into the bench.

her hole kept pulsing around nothing again as he said that, going straight to her core. her body still practically aching at this point for his cock. he chuckles and grips his cock in one hand, moving it through her slick folds. he keeps one hand still placed firmly on her hip.

she whimpers into his t-shirt as she feels the head of his cock touch her clit, teasing her. “please, daddy.” her whimpers muffled into the fabric.

he smacks her ass lightly again with his free hand, “shush, princess. you’ll get daddy’s cock in a second. i just need to make sure your ready.” he says with a small chortle again, he rubs his hand soothingly over her lightly red ass cheeks.

he takes his time coating his cock in her arousal, making her squirm and make tiny noises each time he does. “mmm, i think your ready for daddy’s cock baby.” he says with a small smirk, rubbing her ass cheeks, with his firm hands, sliding one hand down to brush the tip of his cock against her wet entrance.

she moaned softly, “yes, daddy.” she managed to get out as he nudged his tip in her entrance. she let out a strangled noise as he stuck the tip in, her fists gripping at the bench.

“just the tip baby and your sucking me in.” he groans as he nudged his cock further into her pussy, stretching her out more. “daddy…” she moaned weakly as she felt some drool slide out of her mouth and onto his t-shirt that her cheek was smushed against.

“i know, i know…just a little more baby. you can take it.” he says with a strangled noise, gritting his teeth as he slides more into her pussy, his length all the way inside of her at this point to the hilt.

“uhh, d-daddy…” she feels her body go slack a little at the fullness of his cock inside of her from behind. she finds it hard to focus on anything else right now, the feeling of his cock inside of her was so delicious and distracting.

“keep moaning for your daddy, wanna hear you princess.” he says with a small groan as he feels her pussy flutter around his cock, he reaches down and grabs at her hair, a fistful of it in his hands as he starts rocking his hips slowly against her, his hips slapping against her ass as he does.

she feels her eyes roll back and flutter shut a little, practically drooling as he yanks her hair up and causing her head to look straight ahead. she moans softly again, adjusting to his length. his hips move a little faster as he keeps her hair in a tight fist.

“so fucking tight, jesus.” he grunts as he keeps moving in and out of her. she moans daddy again at each thrust of his hips. she feels so fucking full and it almost feels like her skin is on fire in the best way possible.

he keeps fucking her, his hips moving faster as he keeps one hand on her hip to guide her hips back in as he thrusts, his other hand tugging at her hair as she moans and whines. “fuck…daddy…mmm, i’m close…” she manages to get out as he keeps thrusting into her, hitting that spot inside of her that made her vision go blurry.

he keeps making small grunts and noises of pleasure, “let go baby, i’ve got you. cum all over daddy’s cock.” she keeps releasing noises at every slap of his hips against her ass. she has his permission and she cums on his cock with a few more thrusts and hitting her sweet spot inside of her.

seeing stars dance in her vision, her body dropping back to his t-shirt, her thighs shaking as she releases and clenches around his cock. he releases her hair, the other hand holding onto her hips, a low groan escaping him as he feels her cum all over his cock.

the feeling of her squeezing around him is addicting and he knows he won’t last much longer. he fucks her through it and chases his own orgasm.

she bites her lips as small tears leak out of her eyes at the overstimulation that he gives her from his cock still moving in and out of her. “shh, it’s okay…baby, i’m close…gonna cum inside your pussy…” he manages to get out in between strangled noises, his hair dampening with sweat slightly.

she cries in a small whine of pleasure as he finally releases inside of her with just a few more thrusts, her pussy milking his cum so he doesn’t spill a drop out of her. she feels her body go slack as she comes down from it all, her chest rising and falling against the bench where she stays bent over.

he rubs a small reassuring hand over the curve of her ass, “you okay? i didn’t hurt you did i?” he says with a small hint of clarity as he slightly pulls out of her. she shakes her head into the fabric of his balled up t-shirt.

“here, here.” he grabs his boxers, climbing off of the bench and pulling them over his legs, he sits down on the bench. “put on the t-shirt, then cmere.” he says in a gentle but firm tone. she shakily moves her limbs and grabs his t-shirt from where it was crumpled up on top of her duffle.

he grabs his sweat rag from his own gym bag, patting his thighs for her to sit on. she adjusts his shirt over her body and moves to sit in his lap, burying her head into his neck and holding onto his bare chest with weak fists. he cleans up the inside of her thighs, over her sensitive folds.

she shivers and tries to move away from it, “shh, it’s okay. it’s okay. i’m just cleaning you up.” he whispers into her hair, pressing a gentle kiss there. she nods slowly, her eyes fluttering shut and relaxing into his lap, he pulls the rag away and puts it in his duffle next to him on the bench.

“was that good?” he says into her hair, looking down at her face with a small crane of his neck. “yeah, it was good.” she smiles softly as she tilts her head up and opens her eyes lazily. he smiles and rubs a hand over her back in a soothing gesture, feeling his heart bloom into a cathartic way he hasn’t felt in years.

“how about i take you out for dinner sometime? hmm? properly treat you.” he says with small squeeze of her hip, she smiles up at him, nodding. “i’d love that.” she says with a small sigh of content.

she held him as he held her in the aftermath of their love making and deep down they both knew that this was the beginning of something new for the both of them. something real, something exciting and full of love.

they couldn’t wait for what the future held in store for them.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

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#leon kennedy #leon x reader #leon kennedy smut #re2 leon #re2 remake #re4 remake #leon kennedy au #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy drabble #re6 leon x reader #resident evil #re4 leon x reader #leon kennedy x fem reader

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tyxoxo · 1 year

Text

Feel It

pairing: jaehyun x fem!reader

genre: smut, pornstar!jaehyun au, 00’ dream inserts

words: 5.1k

warnings: pure filth, exhibitionism/voyeurism, degrading, choking/breath play, humiliation, dacryphilia, sex toys, ball gag, shibari, allusion to cum play, unprotected sex

a/n: san francisco armory, das the setting lolol (thanks kink.com 🫡) also!! since the reader would have no way of knowing the names of 00’, hopefully i did a good enough job describing them for you all to know who is who sksks.

—

“okay, we’ll just have you sign this.” the producer with the name tag K said as he handed you a clipboard with a pen; the two of you sitting across each other in a large auditorium.

you were fidgeting the more you sat there in the middle of the “playroom”, excitement rising with every glance of the various s&m props placed on antique plaques. whether it was the torture rack, assorted floggers, or cattle prods, you couldn’t wait to try it all.

never in your years of living did you expect to be at an armory-turned-BDSM studio, preparing to do your first adult scene. yet here you were, only wearing a pair or your underwear, completely bare everywhere else.

the use of a National Guard armory was oddly fitting for the company—20th century Moorish Revival architecture, albeit refurbished, still gave a sense of “grittiness” and rustic charm.

“i know that you already submitted your online waiver but we just like to have an additional one for in-person. physical signatures are always preferred.” K snapped you out of your thoughts for a second, though your mind couldn’t help but drift back into the depths—thinking yet again to your upcoming scene.

the single sheet of paper reiterated everything you read through just a week prior:

“Mission Statement and Company Values”

typical header to start a waiver…littered with the expectations to provide a “consensual and safe space for all participants.”

your eyes scanned further down, taking a few minutes to read their “Right to Distribute Media:

By signing here, you agree to having any and all media in your presence posted to our website Kink.com, with potential distribution to other pornographic partnerships…”

you provided your signature for the two spots provided, officially sealing away what modesty you had left.

as soon as you handed the clipboard back to K, he spoke into his bluetooth earpiece, presumably notifying the other producers of your newly sealed fate, “you guys are good to head this way.” he said before placing the clipboard on the floor next to his water bottle.

“in a moment you’ll be able to meet your partner, and go over the do’s and don'ts, that kind of stuff.” he said, followed by a closed-mouth smile.

you smiled back, trying to hide the anxiety creeping under your skin. there was no telling what kind of man would appear through those doors, meters away from where you sat.

you kept your eyes trained on the entrance, tapping your leg up and down to pass what seemed like hours.

but then again, this was a four story building…maybe it was just taking them a while to get to where you were.

just as you looked down at your twiddling thumbs, the heavy sound of the double-doors filled the room. the man that appeared was unlike anyone you’ve ever seen.

he was gorgeous…

and he smiled as soon as he laid eyes on you. his dimples being the first feature that caught your attention.

he strutted towards you, confidence exuding with every step. he only sported boxer briefs, definitely nowhere near as self-conscious as you, now that you saw his toned body.

you tried not to make it obvious that you were eyeing his subtle six-pack. but it was hard. his body was perfect; not too overbearing, not too ordinary. still, his biceps and his quads showcased the work he put in to maintain his physique.

the last you could observe before he stopped in front of you, was his happy trail, leading all the way to the package he had confined in his briefs. he completely ignored K, standing right in front of his field of view.

your eyes slowly made their way to his face, still smiling so bright, with ivory teeth to match.

“hello, my name is jaehyun. nice to meet you.”

his voice was velvety deep, baritone.

another surprise to you.

jaehyun held out his right hand, but you noted the single platinum band adorned on his left ring finger, to your disappointment.

your thoughts were outlandish, there’s no way you’d have a chance with him even if he wasn’t taken.

you returned the handshake, voice visibly shaken as you gave him your name.

“i’ll go ahead and let you guys have the floor. i’ll be back in 10.” K said with a clear of his throat. he then gave up his seat for jaehyun, making his leave towards the double-doors.

jaehyun looked back at the medieval-styled chair before sitting down, chiseled thighs growing in size once he found a comfortable position.

“so tell me a bit about yourself…”

he leaned forward in his seat, placing his hands criss-cross in between his thighs.

the simple action of trying to close the distance between the two of you, paired with his now sultry-tone, caused you to gulp quite noticeably.

“i uhhh, this is—s-sorry i can’t form my words today.” you covered your mouth as you laughed, embarrassed by the effect jaehyun had on your intelligibility.

if only you noticed his faint smile.

“would it be better if i asked you something different?” he spoke with a tilt of his head, bangs sweeping softly across his eyelashes.

“no its not that…i’m just not super interesting.” you pursed your lips together, shameless in admitting how average you were.

“i highly doubt that. for you to come here, i know that you’re more interesting than you let on.”

he smirked to himself, dimples even more pronounced as he looked down at your feet.

“so what do you like…don’t like? or what are you willing to try today?”

he looked back up at you, but the ability to maintain eye contact with him was becoming harder and harder.

but for you to have come this far, sitting almost-nude in front of a stranger…there was no use in being shy anymore.

“i’ve just always wanted to be controlled, dominated, humiliated…reduced to nothing, pretty much.” you spoke matter-of-factly, knowing he’s probably heard this all before.

you decided to keep your eyes on his mouth, and then his sharp canine’s that gleamed under the warm sepia light as he licked his lips.

“what about degrading?”

“definitely.”

“shibari?”

“yes.”

he continued to list everything that came to mind, making it somewhat easier for you to communicate your needs and expectations.

by now, barely 7-minutes in, jaehyun learned that you were practically open to anything.

“one last thing. the most important.”

you raised your eyebrows at his sudden announcement, already having an idea of what it could be.

“what’s your safeword?”

“olive.”

—☽༓☾—

“alright, we’ll go ahead and get started. if you at any time need to take a break, just let us know. remember, there is no time limit, and most of all, enjoy yourselves.” one of the producers said while adjusting his camera.

now in the auditorium with you and jaehyun, were two different producers, with the names I and N; an obvious attempt to mirror their company, which definitely made it easier to recall. K was nowhere to be found this time. but you weren’t concerned about that anymore.

the entire auditorium was now your’s, filled with all the props to make your fantasies come true. the chairs were pushed away, and the camera’s were now rolling.

jaehyun stood face-to-face, still in only his boxer briefs. he studied the floor beneath you, seeming to psych himself up with a smirk.

you didn’t even really know how to stand, or carry yourself, fearing that too much focus on the lesser details would ruin your adrenaline.

just as you watched his head rise to your level, you were swept away by a kiss.

he was as spirited as you hoped, using his left hand to hold onto your cheek, and the other to rest against your hip. still through the shock of how soft his lips were, you managed to taste the balm that he chose to wear—peach with a hint of vanilla.

you raised your hand to wrap around the wrist that kept hold of your cheek, eventually closing more of the gap between the two of you.

despite how delicate the kisses were at first, you could hear them echo throughout the auditorium, surely to get louder once you could taste more of him.

you tried your best to keep up with the different angles that his head moved, but thinking back to the fact that these were among the first kisses you shared, you could bear the inconsistencies until you found a proper rhythm.

so far, he did everything right. starting off slow just how you liked it… just how you told him just a few minutes prior.

his left hand caressed your cheek back and forth, brushing against the small hairs in front of your ear. the other made its way down to your ass, gripping tightly, but not without your breath hitching through the fiery embrace.

he took the opportunity like you had guessed, to brush his tongue against your own, finally gaining more out of the subtle start towards your undoing.

you had only known him for roughly half an hour, yet you already felt in tune with his way of leading you to pure bliss.

he intertwined with you effortlessly, regardless of the mess the two of you made with just your lips. combined saliva pooled at the corners of your mouth, and you found yourself whimpering at his attempts to clean up the remnants with his warm tongue.

“you’re making a mess already?”

he spoke against the corner of your mouth, the smell of vanilla becoming even more evident from his suckled lips.

you didn’t want to give in so soon to his early teasing. he needed to do more.

though you realized within a flutter of your hooded eyes, that he needed just as much as you. without any warning, he flipped his warm persona, the hand that held your cheek moving down to grip your throat tight.

his fingertips knew exactly where to apply pressure, causing you to wince as the sting resonated on both sides of your neck. your hands immediately wrapped around his, knowing he liked to see you struggle.

you had made a point of that too.

“you won’t say anything? what about when i do this?” his face remained mere centimeters away from you, denying you of any further kisses.

you could see through the haze that his dimples were still just as evident from his now-sinister smile.

his right hand cupped your clothed core, causing you to shudder against his palm.

he would definitely be able to feel your growing arousal through the thin material.

“maybe you don’t deserve any of this…i should just leave you here.”

he backed up his shaming effortlessly, all the while palming you through your damp underwear.

the friction felt electric against your clit, causing you to buck against his touch.

“ride my fucking hand.” he smirked right in front of your face, like a complete switch from the gentleman you just met.

you were sure that you looked pathetic, getting off to just the palm of his hand. practically humping to get some sort of release.

being self-conscious no longer mattered, not when he provided you with a means to an end. proving not only to yourself, but to future viewers that you were outwardly desperate.

the more zealous you got with your gyrating hips, the more jaehyun was inclined to stop and just watch you yearn for it.

he decided immediately, stilling his movements.

for the first time, you whined.

“please let m-me cum.” your voice barely produced any sound, restricted from his hold on your throat.

“should i?”

“mmh, yes. please…”

you hoped that your look of pity was convincing enough.

“go on and show me then. show me that you deserve it.”

he gave you free reign, lessening the hold on your throat, and continuing to keep his palm still against your aching core.

you were practically salivating, trying your hardest to hit a certain spot along your sensitive nub. with a few more hellish rolls of your hips, you succeeded, feeling that familiar high surge through your body.

jaehyun was beyond satisfied, enjoying how you broke down from barely nothing. his eyes drifted over every part of your trembling body, mentally noting the parts that would be destroyed by the time he was done with you.

as you started to come down, he had already tugged your underwear off, even taking a moment to smell the now-ruined fabric. he could’ve spent longer doing so, showing off his guise for as long as he wanted.

but you were fidgeting quite noticeably, shifting your thighs to subdue the constant throbbing of your clit. it was obvious there was more to come.

once he tossed the flimsy fabric to the side, he ushered you towards the far left of the room where two red velvet sofas were positioned against the wall, and a small antique dresser sat in between.

you could barely keep up with his stride as he interlocked your hands together. but you let him control your movements, until you were centered in the middle of the makeshift formal room.

on top of the dresser were bundles of rope, a ball gag and a vibrating wand, with images of all the ways you would be ruined flooding your brain. your eyes then drifted up towards the ceiling, immediately catching sight of the metal ring hanging just above you.

the cameras were paused momentarily; had the recording continued, the producers would’ve captured your look of wonder as you watched jaehyun gather the jute material onto his arm to begin the process.

you’d only had a few experiences with bondage, but all of the preparation seemed to come naturally as you followed jaehyun’s instructions. he was patient and soft-spoken with his directions, all the while marveling at how pretty you looked while listening to him.

it was evident he was experienced in the art of shibari, as he adjusted the intricate designs to fit the contour of your body within minutes. your eyes were conflicted on where to look, whether it was his concentration or the way the rope cupped your breasts perfectly. either way, you felt beautiful.

“take deep breaths for me, you’re doing great.”

his sultry tone was enough to relax you as you felt gravity disappear under your feet.

your eyes remained shut as you inhaled and exhaled, gradually soaking in the feeling of complete ascension.

you were in the most exposed position—frogtied. suspended upwards, arms secured behind your back, knees bent, and ankles bound to your thighs.

even though it took a while to get into this arrangement, he made you feel comfortable, and you were still just as wet, eagerly awaiting his next move.

“how do you feel? talk to me.” he stood in front of your suspended body, watching your face for any signs of discomfort. there was anything but, you surprisingly felt purified, as if a literal weight had been lifted.

“i feel good.”

you weren’t the best at exclaiming your feelings, but you could tell that jaehyun sensed your approval.

“anything pinching or pulling?” he asked again, leaning in close to inspect the knots littered across your body.

“nope.”

“okay good. just wanted to check before i put this on.” he replied while giving the “ok” hand signal for the producers to resume rolling.

he stepped over to the dresser, grabbing the black leathered ball gag. your pussy involuntarily clenched around air at the sight of the large red ball, and the realization that you were now being filmed in suspension, every bit of your cunt on display for the world to see.

you licked your lips one last time before he placed the gag. the taste of plastic overtook your senses, unfortunately masking the remnants of his lips balm. nonetheless, you felt complete, relishing in your own fantasy being brought to life.

saliva managed to escape not even seconds later, dribbling onto your chin. jaehyun eyes grew dark, switching back to the sadist he truly was.

your eyes tracked his every move, watching as he finally exposed himself.

you wished you were well-spoken enough to describe how perfect he was. but you could only manage whimpers through your restraints, hoping that he heard your reaction to seeing his lower half for the first and probably only time.

you were finally able to see where his happy trail ended, branched out into a sea of nicely trimmed hair. his length stood proud, snapping back onto his outie bellybutton as he kicked his briefs off to the side.

he stepped over to the dresser one last time, grabbing the vibrating wand. you were expecting the sound of the device to come to life, even squinting your eyes to brace for the feeling of it hitting your clit. but instead he kept it down by his left side, while his right finger came up to collect the saliva that had now leaked down your neck.

“not yet…you’ll have to prove that you’re worth my time. i don’t reward sluts that whine in my face.” his words hit you hard, but his finger worked even harder.

your body began to shake as he used his slicked forefinger to paint a trail down the center of your chest. he eventually found your nipple that had swelled through the coarse rope, pinching hard.

he released quickly, doing the same to the other.

his right finger continued its descent, now finding your cunt that was glistening under the warm lighting. he seemed satisfied enough from the sight of your juices dripping onto the floor meters below you.

your breathing grew ragged as you felt him group his digits together to press against your sensitive nub. he leaned further into you, preventing you from seeing him work your pussy into overdrive.

the filthy sounds of your essence sloshing against the flesh of his fingers filled the room, even overpowering the pathetic moans that tried to escape through the soaked ball gag.

“think you could cum again? hmm?”

he cooed against your ear, determined to kick all of your senses over the edge.

you failed miserably at producing a coherent “yes” through the pleasure, and you feared this would have consequences.

the high was building up a second time, but unfortunately it was met with jaehyun’s cruelty.

he backed away from you completely, leaving you there to wiggle in the ropes that kept you hungry and docile.

“yes…i can do it.” you words were muffled at best, barely audible. but your body showed enough of your desperation, trying to move within the confines of your unrelenting submission.

“fucking filthy whore…you’re too late.”

jaehyun tortured you by staying back, twirling the vibrating wand in his hands.

regardless of the fact you were granted an orgasm moments ago, you made it known that you deserved another.

tears began to pool in your eyes, eventually flowing from your eyelids onto your warm cheeks. breathing seemed more difficult, as you sniffled and heaved against the ball gag.

jaehyun looked down at the floor, in awe at the amount of your juices that had hit the floor. you were more than soaked, practically painting the floor in an abstract design of delicious filth. usually he was able to drag out teasing for a while with his other “co-stars” but for you, his patience was wearing thin; not out of distaste, but out of the eagerness to finally feel your walls around his cock. he would have to fuck you soon, so he could see if you felt just as good as you looked.

he had done plenty of scenes, even similar to this; more than he could count. and none short of bragging, he ruined every single one of them, and you were no exception.

without a second thought, jaehyun stepped up to you, placing the vibrator on your engorged clit. a shriek escaped through the gag as you slumped in the ropes, head falling backwards as a wave of relief hit you.

finally, you were given more.

through your hooded eyes, you were unable to see his erect tip awaiting your entrance.

“are you happy now? what do you say?” he gripped your jaw hard, forcing your head forward to stare into his dark eyes.

“thank you s-so much…thank-...”

your gratitude was cut short as he pushed himself inside you.

a guttural groan fell from his glossy lips as he paused halfway, utterly amazed by the way your walls welcomed his cock, trying his best to draw out the way you sucked him in.

he could’ve stayed like this forever, relishing in your ability to grip him for dear life.

“you’re so fucking tight…did you save this pussy for me?” his voice was just as shaky as yours, completely high off the energy that filled the room.

you nodded your head up and down, mind too absorbed in the pleasure that overtook your body.

your eyes blew wide as he continued to inch himself further inside your dripping hole; beyond satisfied from being stretched full.

you watched his jaw go slack as he bottomed out, pupils dilating not only in front of you, but the cameras too.

the realization that everyone would witness his transformation, caused you to contract around his length; the vibrator intensifying your actions as if you no longer had control.

he wasted no time thrusting inside you, hips snapping against yours in an immediate, steady rhythm. your body recoiled against his tireless momentum, eventually swinging from the metal ring every time he connected his tip to your cervix.

“do you think you could hold out sweetheart?”

you were sure that you could, but you couldn’t help but entertain the idea that it was much deeper than that.

nonetheless, you mumbled “yes”, hoping to prove your worth so that he would never stop fucking you senseless.

yet again, your head fell back, pitiful howls escaping through the gag as you felt your orgasm building up a second time.

“come on, look at me. watch me fuck this pussy.” he used his non occupied hand to usher your head forward, watching you choke up as many moans as you could through the soiled gag.

he continued to support your head, and it became obvious that it was done for a reason. the sound of the double-doors caught your attention soon after, echoing through the auditorium. your eyes looked past jaehyun’s broad shoulders to catch sight of the four attractive figures that appeared.

their presence would be burned inside your mind forever—an aura of complete deviance, walking towards your suspended frame with an obvious intent to ravage you beyond repair.

your eyes couldn’t look away, not even with jaehyun still drilling inside your pussy.

you noted the two tallest, one with wavy silver hair, and bangs long enough to cover his dark eyes. he had the most chiseled features out of the four, with full lips to complement his sharp jawline. the other didn’t look nearly as intimidating as the first, with rounded facial features despite having a broader frame. he adorned blue eyes, which you assumed to be contacts. either way, the sky blue color fit his chocolate hair, setting him apart from his yang counterpart.

the third reminded you of a sunset, with golden skin that radiated far beyond his charming presence. his jet black hair offered contrast to his warm exterior.

the final one—the blonde, surprised you the most, he didn’t seem like the type to present himself in this type of environment, but maybe that was his ruse—to deceive anyone into thinking he wasn’t as filthy as the next. he made sure to be the last one following behind in the ensemble, but you still noted his elfen-like appearance, seeming delicate yet playful.

they were all just as flawless as jaehyun.

you would have to refer to them by their features, as there was no indication of their names. truthfully, the idea that you may never know, made this all the more fulfilling. letting four strangers do whatever they wanted to you, was the pinnacle of desire.

the silver-haired boy made sure to greet you first, standing next to your right side. though you weren’t sure if gripping your chest through the rope was a proper greeting, it still caused you to whimper from his robust touch. he squeezed your nipples harder than jaehyun, watching you crumble from his assault.

“another slut for me to fuck with hmm? you better hope you make this worth my while.” he snarled against your ear, taking the time to tug your earlobe between his teeth. the kisses that followed were messier than the brunette that stood to your left. you made sure to make eye contact with him and acknowledge his existence despite his silver-haired fiend stealing the show with his unhinged words. the blue-eyed boy had a smug grin on his face, caressing your cheek with no care in the world that your saliva had covered his fingers.

he began to pecker along your collarbone, keeping his eyes locked onto your own, tongue swiping upwards to taste the sweat that had formed on your flushed skin.

“i bet she’s been good so far?” the brunette’s voice caught you off guard, completely teasing, even mocking your predicament. you saw him look forward at jaehyun, then down at the vibrator that was still pressed against your clit.

you hoped to god that he would grab and use it on you. that any of them would use it on you.

“hell yeah she’s been good. taking my cock like a good little slut.” jaehyun licked along his upper lip, baring his canine’s again.

“here...i know she’s close.”

jaehyun offered the vibrator to the brunette, the sensation temporarily leaving your core. you whined in dissatisfaction, hoping it wouldn’t be off you for too long.

“you’re so pretty…”

the blonde haired boy soothed your worries, coming up beside the brunette. his hands were noticeably smaller than the rest, but still just as skillful. he took his slender fingers and began to rub your abused clit in circles. the pads of his fingers were a few degrees colder, but it soon warmed up after making contact with your heated skin.

you jumped, as best as you could, when he increased the pace, and began swiping his entire hand across your wet mound. the sounds of your juices splashing past his digits bounced off of the walls of the auditorium.

he truly proved your point of his devious nature.

the golden boy rushed to jaehyun’s left side, getting a clear view of the mess you kept making. his hands trailed down to palm himself through his black denim jeans. even through your tears, you watched him bite his lip, hard enough to make the skin underneath go pale.

you were so close.

“pl…please. i’m cl…” you thought your words had drifted off into the void, overpowered by the multitude of bodies in the room, but they didn’t go unnoticed.

“awwh, she’s gonna cum. so wet, so pretty…” the fairy teased, taking the time to lower his mouth to your knee, making sure that he had made at least one mark on your skin by the time the evening was over.

the familiar band from within your core snapped. a wave of pleasure surged from your core all the way up to where the silver-haired boy had gripped your throat. moans managed to escape through the hold he had on your neck, stinging against his palms as he squeezed harder and harder.

the sea of white that flashed across your vision had turned red when the fairy’s hand left you and the vibrator took his place. the brunette’s smile grew wide when he witnessed first-hand what overstimulation looked like, and for him to be the one to blame, made an obvious power trip show across his cheshire grin.

you were completely ruined. it was evident by the way you began to convulse, the way you cried out, the way your walls continued to contract around jaehyun’s cock.

“fuckkk, just like that. you're sucking me in so hard. keep doing that sweetheart…”

jaehyun chanted out, an indication that he was close to exploding inside of you.

“take that ball gag off, i wanna hear her scream…” the golden boy directed the fairy to do his bidding, not wanting to pause on his own self-gratification. he had already freed his cock from his boxers, nowhere near patient enough to pull his pants the rest of the way down.

you weren’t still enough for the blonde as he tried freeing the clasp behind your head. eventually with the help of his silver-haired friend, you were finally able to voice your sounds of another orgasm.

“i’m gonna cum again!!” you screamed out, making the rest of them smirk with pride.

“are you even gonna say thank you? ungrateful whore…” the same one that had been giving you the most hell, spat against your ear. his words made it all the more damning; you enjoyed how he tested your mental stability.

“thank you! thank you so much!”

you were sure that you looked broken, slumped from the actions of these four strangers and of course, jaehyun, who was just as close.

his thrusts were beginning to show cracks, losing the rhythm he had held onto for so long. the two of you stared at each other, in your own world as you both came.

with one final snap of his hips, he let out a moan, pumping you full of his seed with every inhale and exhale.

your voice gave out, vocal chords spent from all of the prior screams you produced during your time of luxury.

your mouth hung open as you felt him fill your walls to the brim, creating a salacious mixture that bubbled inside your painted walls.

even though the vibrator had stopped, a phantom sensation caused you to tremble against the now-still wand.

all that remained was the comedown. and you weren’t sure you wanted it to end.

jaehyun remained inside you, drawing out the aftermath of your back-to-back orgasm. a thin sheet of sweat decorated his chest, illuminating under the tan lights.

your breathing had finally calmed down, and by the time you tried to get a good look at everyone, they were already huddled around jaehyun, waiting to see the creampie.

their eyes followed jaehyun’s every move, watching as he exited you with a single plop.

“i’m first.” the silver-haired boy spoke quickly, immediately lowering himself to be level with your weeping hole.

it was obvious that this wasn’t over. and you were more than okay with that.

//tagging: @pradajaehyun @glitchfiles @stargrll13 @the-universe-in-you-jjh

#jaehyun smut #jeong jaehyun smut #jaehyun x reader #jeno smut #jeno x reader #haechan smut #haechan x reader #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #feedback is appreciated <3

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marvel-ous-m · 1 year

Text

Eddie Munson’s Guide for How to Adopt a Jock in Four Easy Steps (4/5)

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Five

Ao3 Link

A.N.: I can’t believe we’re already at the penultimate chapter! I know it seems crazy that it’ll all get wrapped up after this, but I promise it will. You’ll have to forgive me for the D&D game description... in addition to being a Stranger Things nerd, I have been a D&D nerd for the last ten or so years, so describing a campaign is super fun for me and I sometimes can get off-track. Speaking of which, I did some 1st edition research but I mostly play 5th, so apologies if there are any discrepancies! All that to say, hopefully you can pick up on the symbolism in the campaign scene, too! Okay, rant over, now onto the chapter.

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

“Alright, Sir Grant the Good, roll a perception check.”

The familiar clatter of dice against the wood tabletop filled the room, and it seemed that the entire party held their breath to hear Grant’s result.

“15 plus three- what’ll an 18 get me?”

Eddie hummed, tapping a finger on his chin. “You see a pair of eyes staring back at you from deep in the tree line. They’re slightly yellow, certainly belonging to an animal, and seemingly a large one.” Eddie pauses to roll a die, then hisses under his breath. “The animal meets your eyes and sees you’ve spotted it. It lets out a low growl- what do you do?”

Grant groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Shit, um- I draw my sword and I wave to Mistress Emery and Sir Geoffrey.”

“Sir Geoffrey stands beside Sir Grant and readies his bow.” Jeff speaks from his seat next to Grant, holding a D20 between his fingers, ready to roll initiative.

Gareth grinned, leaning forward in his chair to get a better view of the map on the table. “I come up to stand next to Sir Grant and ready myself to cast call lightning.”

“Um, sorry, can I-” Steve whispered from his place at the table, a chair that Eddie had moved up to have Steve sit next to him while he DM’d. Eddie turned to Steve, raising an eyebrow.

“What’s up, Steve? You’re free to speak whenever you want, you don’t have to just watch quietly.” Eddie nudged Steve’s side, encouraging the jock to speak.

“Yeah, um, it’s just-” Steve cleared his throat, then looked at the other three members of Hellfire. “Mistress Emery is a Druid, right? So like, isn’t her animal handling through the roof or whatever? Why don’t you try and take care of the animal before you try to kill it?”

Gareth blinked in surprise, shot a look at Jeff and Grant, then turned to Eddie. “He knows D&D?!”

“He is sitting right here.” Steve muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes.

“Right- sorry, what Gareth meant to say is- how do you know D&D?” Jeff gave Gareth a warning glare, then turned his attention Steve’s way.

Steve sighed, shrugging somewhat awkwardly. “I babysit some middle schoolers. This one kid, Dustin, he’s obsessed with this stuff. Honestly all of them are, but I spend the most time with Dustin. He brought up a druid recently when we were walking around the tracks- sounded kinda interesting, so I listened.” Steve’s eyes shifted to stare down at the tabletop then, and he frowned to himself. “I used to pick up Nancy’s little brother from their campaigns, too. I’d usually have to wait around for at least thirty minutes for them to wrap things up before we could get a move on.”

The party sat in silence for a few moments, processing the revelation about Steve’s D&D knowledge. Finally Grant hummed in thought, then turned to Gareth. “He’s got a point. Plus, if we don’t attack immediately we save some spell slots, potentially some HP too.”

“Yeah, but the thing is growling! It’s probably going to pounce at us any minute now.” Gareth huffed, crossing his arms.

“Maybe it’s hurt. That could be a warning growl rather than it trying to pounce at us.” Jeff reasoned. “Just give it a try, Gareth. I’ll keep an arrow loaded and I can flank while you do an animal handling check so that if it attacks I can try and shoot at it before it does any damage.”

Gareth frowned, clearly annoyed, but nevertheless held up a D20. “Fine. I approach the forest line and hold a hand out in the direction of the animal.”

“Roll for animal handling.” Eddie flipped through his binder of notes as he spoke, easily finding the page he was looking for.

Gareth dropped the dice on the table, eyebrows shooting up in surprise when he read the resulting roll. “Huh- Nat 20, and I’ve got a plus five on my modifier. What’ll that do for me?”

“The animal walks out of the forest, and you know from your studies that you’re now face to face with an Owlbear. The beast makes another growling sound, but is far less menacing. You see that Jeff was correct- the animal has a deep slash running from one of its talons up to its chest. You can tell that it originated from a sword, but the blood around the beast’s beak tells you that whatever fighter that had tried to attack the owlbear previously lost that battle. You can tell that the animal is more scared than anything. What do you do?”

“Um… okay. I cast cure wounds and then reach into my pack and provide the Owlbear with a piece of dried meat to show it that it can trust me?”

Eddie nodded, pulling a sticky note from his binder and handing it to Gareth, smirking as he did. “The Owlbear takes the food, trusts you, and decides to stay with your party. Here are its stats, it’ll now obey your commands and fight alongside you until its dying breath. Congratulations, Mistress Emery.”

“Holy shit! We have an Owlbear now, that’s so fucking cool.” Grant grins, nudging Gareth’s side. “Good work, man.”

Gareth scanned the sticky note, then smiled at Steve. “Thank Steve, he’s the one who suggested it. Did you sneak a look at Eddie’s notes or something?”

Steve chuckled, shaking his head. “Nah, it just sounded like a better alternative.”

“I made it injured so your band of fighters would have a better chance of killing the thing, but Steve’s little stunt had me thinking on my feet.” Eddie spoke up, then winked in Steve’s direction. Steve ducked his head in response, a blush playing at his cheeks. Interesting.

“Thanks, man.” Jeff nodded in Steve’s direction. “Maybe you should play with us next time. You seem to know your stuff.”

Steve snorted at that, shaking his head once again. “I barely know anything. Besides, all the dice and numbers would probably confuse the hell outta me. But… uh, thanks for the offer. Maybe one day.”

The party moved on with the campaign, killing some goblins on their route as they followed a map they had received from a barkeep at the beginning of the adventure. Steve chimed in occasionally when he found something interesting, and Eddie even had him roll a few times for some of the encounters. By the end of the campaign, the party was actively strategizing with him, and Steve was grinning ear to ear and giving his opinions on what to do next. The party ended up defeating the ‘big bad’ at the end, a goblin king and four of its soldiers. They recovered some treasure and a map, which Eddie told them would be the subject of the next chapter of their campaign.

It was about 7pm when they finally wrapped everything up, cleaned the room out, locked up, and walked together out to the parking lot. Steve, who had been pretty awake and alert for the entirety of the playthrough, was now looking much more exhausted. He waved goodbye to the boys and pulled his coat tighter around himself, then rushed from the back door of the school to his car through the biting November air.

The four members of Hellfire watched as Steve sped off, then stood together quietly under the awning of Hawkins High. Gareth broke the silence, crossing his arms to stave off the cold. “Alright, I’ll admit it. I was hesitant to believe it, but you’re right. Harrington’s cool.”

“You were right about the other stuff too, Eddie. He didn’t look too good. Do you know what happened? Why Billy pounded on him last weekend?” Jeff spoke up next, fidgeting with a string hanging off of his sweater.

Eddie sighed, producing a cigarette from his coat pocket and lighting it with his zippo. “Nope.” Eddie popped the ‘p’ when he spoke, then took a long drag of the cigarette. “Barely had a chance to ask him about it, and he deflected any time I tried to get more information outta him. I think it all really messed him up, but he doesn’t want to admit it.”

The party stood in silence for a few more minutes, all lost in thought. This time, Grant broke the silence. “My mom wants me home for dinner by 7:30, so I gotta get going. But I’m cool with letting Steve into the party if everyone else is. Looks like it’d be good for him- probably good for us, too. He’s cool.” Grant zipped up his sweatshirt as he spoke, then pulled car keys out of his pocket. “Need a ride, Gareth?”

“Yeah, thanks man. I’m cool with letting Steve hang with us, too. Just let us know what we need to do Eddie.” Gareth waved goodbye to Jeff and Eddie, then followed Grant to his car.

“How ‘bout you, Jeff? Got anything against letting Steve into Hellfire?” Eddie questioned quietly. He took another long drag from the cigarette, watching as the smoke he breathed out disappeared into the cold night air.

“You know it’s fine by me, man.” Jeff paused, then sighed. “I am a little concerned, though.”

Eddie frowned. “About what?”

“About you.” Jeff moved his attention from the stray thread on his sweater to Eddie, crossing his arms. “About him, too. I’ve known you the longest out of everyone here, Eds. I can tell when you’ve got a crush. Harrington’s fragile- you said it yourself, and you saw how he was when he mentioned Nancy. It looks like everything is really fresh for him right now. All I’m asking is for you to keep that in mind as you move forward in making him feel welcome. I’m worried that things could go sideways. Either one of you, or both of you, for that matter, could be really hurt if things go wrong. Just… take it slow.” Jeff checked his watch then, wincing when he saw the time. “I gotta run. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Like Gareth said, just let us know what we can do to help Steve feel welcome.”

Eddie nodded, watching as Jeff got into his car and drove off, leaving Eddie and his van alone in the parking lot. Eddie leaned against the brick wall of the school and dropped his cigarette onto the ground, watching as the light fizzled out in the thin layer of snow.

Step Two: Get the Party to Come Around on Steve Harrington, complete. Time for the Step Three (which would likely be the last step in his plan): Get Steve Fully Integrated Into Hellfire.

…with one important caveat. Do not fall harder for Steve Harrington.

Easier said than done.

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

Tag List: @ellietheasexylibrarian @cuips-not-cute @melodymeddler @i-have-three-feelings @sc00ps-ahoy @singmeyoursimpsong @patchworkgargoyle @spectrum-spectre @devondespresso @thesuninyaface @obsessivlyme @angeldreamsoffanfic @carlyv @nburkhardt @inspirationorinsanity @rebelspykatie @my2amgaythoughts @lavenderagenda @just-a-tiny-void @mamafaithful @breadboi66 @beholdingloser @randomfandomcontent @oftirnanog @yellowdevilkitten @steves-strapcollection @keep-er-steddie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @bisexualdisastersworld @jinxjinn @copingmechanizm @blackpanzy @failedstarsandgoldenclouds @evix-syne666 @crisisinverted17 @satan-is-obsessed @shrimply-a-menace @anaibis @trashcanniballecter @thoughtfulbreadpolice @awholedamnmesstbh @chaoticvictorianspirit @jcmadgirl @satan-is-obsessed @tommyvelvet @sleepdeprivedflower @fruitmix @carvingsnowdogs @annabanannabeth @rhyswritesreadsandcries @a-little-unsteddie

#stranger things #stranger things fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #my writing #1984 steddie meeting au my beloved #steddie fic #pre s4 #pre s4 meeting #s2 rewrite #steve harrington needs a hug #hurt/comfort

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urfavstargirl1 · 2 years

Text

You change your look and Eddie notices

What you wouldn't give to have Eddie Munson notice you. Well he noticed you, but not in that way.

You weren’t exactly friends with Eddie, but after having shared a few classes this year and assigned seats next to each other in English, you’d become very close…acquaintances. At least that’s how you’d describe your relationship with Eddie.

You and Eddie talked a lot in class. And sure, you came to know some pretty personal things about the other, but it’s not like you were ever seen together outside of class.

Would you have liked to? The answer would have unequivocally been yes, but you didn’t think he felt the same way. Did he show some signs that might have indicated otherwise? Possibly.

He casually touched your hand or arm or shoulder on multiple occasions. He whispered jokes in your ear in class a few times. He always complimented the doodles you made in the margins of your notebook. And he even invited you to come see his band play, but in such a nonchalant way you never thought he was serious.

Even then, you reasoned that he was just the kind of guy that had a flirty personality. It wasn’t special for you. There’s no way he could ever like you back. No one ever did.

And it was obvious he had the hots for Chrissy Cunningham. For someone so vocally against the system, he sure did stand in line with every other guy in school to crush on Hawkins High’s head cheerleader.

Chrissy was a sweet girl though. You didn’t know her well, but you had a class with her last year and heard a few stories about her. She seemed nice enough. She was always kind to others and kept to herself for the most part. Who wouldn’t like a girl like that?

You hold nothing against her, but when you face the facts, you know you’re nothing like her.

You’re not girly and sweet in the same way she is. You’re not petite and cute the way she is. And you’re definitely not some heaven sent angel Eddie and every other boy at school make her out to be. Which explains why Eddie could never look at you the way he looks at her.

If you were honest, you know Eddie and Chrissy would be a cute couple together, especially in that opposites attract kind of way. But that leaves you where you’ve always been: alone.

You knew you weren’t a princess, but you weren’t exactly a brain or an athlete or a criminal or a basket case either.

Who were you? You were still figuring it out for yourself, but one thing you knew for sure was that you weren’t wanted.

Sometimes it’s easy to act like it doesn’t bother you. Like you prefer to be alone, which most times you do, but other times you don’t.

It hurts to not be chosen. It hurts to not be desired. It hurts to be rejected. So it’s safer to pretend like you don’t even want it at all. Like you don’t even care.

But when everyone in your friend group is in a relationship or has already been in one before except you, that was the last straw.

Was something wrong with you? Was there some big sign on your forehead everyone else saw but you saying please run away? You’d had crushes before but they always ended up with someone else or only ever seeing you as a friend

Something had to give.

But what could you do? Put on some coy flirtatious act? Maybe. It would be challenging, but would it even be genuine?

You could try putting yourself out there a bit more. That could be a start.

Maybe you could do what Sandy did in your favorite movie, Grease. Yes it was cliche and very extreme, but a little makeover here and there might help.

And suddenly you had a plan. A plan to get peoples attention? Not exactly. But more like a plan to find yourself, improve your confidence, and hopefully… attract the right people from that point on.

So you put your plan into action. Day by day you made a small change. One day you started wearing mascara. The next you tried talking to the cute boy next to you in the lunch line.

As then days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, you became utterly unrecognizable.

Your hair was down. You even cut it and dyed it a darker color. You wore more makeup. Sometimes you wore red lipstick or eyeliner or did a Smokey eyeshadow look.

You wore darker, more form fitting clothes. You sometimes wore leather pants. You wore more jewelry along your ears, neck, wrists, and fingers. You even started wearing more dresses and skirts. Sometimes you’d even compliment your outfits with a pair of fishnet tights underneath.

You still had your glasses and that bad habit of biting your lip a little too hard when you were concentrating. But now you stood a little taller, back arched and chest protruding.

Your hips swayed when you walked. You smiled more. You talked slower and with a slightly higher pitch in your voice. You even made direct eye contact.

Pretty soon, boys from the basketball team started flirting with you. Boys in the school band would get nervous around you. Boys in your classes would wink at you when passing a paper back.

People would glance at you in the hall or at lunch. Some would smile and a few would even check you out.

Boys would pass notes with you in class or give you their number when they saw you studying alone in the library.

You got asked out on several dates which was more than you were even expecting.

For kicks, you took a few guys up on the offer. You went out for ice cream with a tuba player from the schools band. You went to watch the newest sci-fi movie with a boy from mathletes. You even got taken out to dinner once by a boy on the swim team.

But after so many dates, it turned out a lot of the boys at school you once had a crush on or were even remotely interested were actually boring or mean or just not that good of a fit.

You could admit, the attention was nice. And the experience was giving you confidence. But at the the end of the day, the only boy in school you wanted the time of day from was still uninterested.

But at least after all was said and done, that shy lonely girl was long gone. Or so you thought.

One day, you decided to take Eddie up on one of his promises to sell you discounted weed.

You met him up after school in the woods in that clearing behind the school’s track and field.

That day, you wore a bit more makeup than usual. Not for him though. You just had plans to go out with your friends and this was a pit stop along the way.

“Wow, you look…” he says as he scans your body. You were wearing a maroon dress with fishnet tights, boots, and a Jean jacket.

For the first time in months, the gesture makes you shudder, almost wanting to crawl out of your skin.

You thought you wanted Eddie to notice you, but not like this.

“Really committing to the new look huh,” he asks in confusion.

Heat starts to boil in your veins.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” you say sheepishly, having intended to say it with more confidence.

“No, no it’s not. I kinda like it actually. I’m just… confused is all,” he says as he sits along the bench across from you.

“What’s there to be confused about?”

“It’s just so… different.”

You huff as you sit across from him, not ready to have this conversation despite the way it’s already unraveling itself.

“Different from before?”

“Yeah,” he nods, wavy hair shaking lightly over his shoulders.

“Well no one ever really looked at me before,” you sheepishly say, looking to the side. “Figured change could be a good thing.”

What is happening right now? How is talking to Eddie like this ripping away the layers of the cool and confident exterior you’ve spent so much time curating?

Is the facade truly that thin that all it takes is a quick comment to make it all come crashing down, leaving nothing but that shy insecure girl from before?

He jerks his head back, “what?”

You look at him in confusion.

“Is that what this is about?”

Heat rises to your cheeks. All this effort you thought was finally paying off only leaves you feeling ridiculous.

“I looked at you before,” he says with sincerity, searching between your eyes.

You look at him skeptically, narrowing your eyes and creasing your brows. “No you didn’t. Chrissy Cunningham maybe, but not me.”

Eddie sighs, “Can I level with you for a sec?”

You look at him with wide eyes, unsure of what his next words might be.

“I admit, there’s been times when I’ve thought about Chrissy, but never in the way I thought about you.”

“C’mon Eddie, you don’t have to say that,” you wave a hand, almost refusing to take him seriously.

“I’m not just saying that sweetheart, I mean it. Have you really never noticed?”

He places his hands flat against the wooden table top and leans forward, looking her square in the eye.

“I… I might’ve noticed. But you kind of act that way towards everyone. How was I supposed to know it meant something different for me?”

“I guess that’s where I kinda fucked up,” Eddie laughs.

You smile nervously, unsure if this is some crazy dream you’re stuck in.

“To be honest, I’ve liked you for a long time, I just didn’t think you’d ever be into some freak like me,” he says, scratching his head.

You raise your eyebrows, “That’s absurd. Almost absurd that you would like me. But even more absurd to think I wouldn’t like a freak like you.”

Eddie slightly gasps, searching into your eyes, looking for an ounce of sincerity. When he finds it, he looks at you questioningly.

“Are you still,” he raises his brows. You search between his eyes.

You look at him unsure. Admitting this feels like walking into a trap.

“Is this new version of you… would she still be into a freak like me?”

Your heart starts racing. All confidence out the window now.

“‘Cause I know that I liked the girl you were before,” he starts and you sigh.

If he really liked the girl you were before, wouldn’t he have made a move?

“But I also like the girl you are now. Whoever you want to be, whoever you are, I’m into it,” he says with a smile.

You look over your shoulder and back at him, “Eddie, if you liked the girl I was before, why didn’t you ever give her a chance?”

Eddie’s eyes turn down, “Because I was an idiot. I could see how great of a person you are, but I was too much of a coward to ever do anything about it.”

You furrow your eyebrows.

“And most of all, I was afraid of being rejected. I could take rejection from Chrissy or any other girl at this school, but I don’t think I could take it from you.”

“Really,” you ask, searching into his eyes.

“Yeah, I mean… you’re beautiful and smart and funny. You have killer taste in music and movies. In what world could I ever deserve a girl like that,” Eddie says breathlessly.

You look down and sheepishly smile. You can't believe Eddie is sitting here in front of you just proclaiming his admiration.

You thought you were alone in your insecurity and your fear of rejection, but turns out you’re not.

"I like you too Eddie, 'freak' or not."

Eddie smiles, heart beaming just for her.

“What do you say? Why don’t we skip the deal. You can smoke for free, back at my place.”

You smile and crinkle your nose as you furrow your brows, “ Is this your way of asking me on a date Munson?”

The look of mortification on his face is priceless. “Uh, yeah I mean… if you… maybe—“

“Look Eddie, I’m gonna stop you right there. I made plans with my friends tonight and I’m not gonna bail on them. Kinda why I came to you for this in the first place," you say, gesturing to his black tin box.

"Oh, right," Eddie says as he opens the box. You make the exchange and look him in the eye.

"How about this? Come to me on Monday with a real date idea and then we’ll see.” You say, confidence coming back full force, practically dripping off your tongue.

After having gone on so many dates, you had gotten a better idea of how you should be treated. You wanted to be with someone that respected you and cared for you and put in the effort to be with you. Plenty of guys had shown you that before, and Eddie should be no different, but you had to know just to be sure.

“Oh ok,” he says, taken aback by your response but eager to fulfill your request, hope coursing his veins.

“Think maybe over the weekend, if I come up with a few ideas, I can call you. Run ‘em by you?”

You smirk at him, “You can give me your number, and if I’m feeling generous, I’ll give you a call before Monday.”

You’ve never seen Eddie scramble so fast to find a piece of paper and anything that could be used to write before.

You giggle as he writes in chicken scratch handwriting his phone number.

“I’ll be free tomorrow ni—“

“I’ll call you when I call you Munson. You made me wait the whole school year for this, I think you can stand to wait a whole weekend,” you say as you retrieve the paper from him and stand up.

He rushes to get up and walk over to you. “Oh yeah, sorry... Can I at least walk you back?”

“Sure,” you smile at him.

As you make your way over to the student parking lot, you feel a guilty pleasure at seeing his nervousness.

"You really do look beautiful Y/N. Always have been. But even now. I'm sorry if I ever made you think otherwise."

"Its ok," you nod. And it really is.

Something you've learned from this whole charade was that you were the real trophy here. You were the prize to be won, whether anybody saw it or not. You were always the real treasure, and you’d be damned if anybody treated you otherwise.

But you have a good feeling Eddie knows this. Like he'll treat you the way you always deserved.

Your friends are gathered by a station wagon and you smile.

"That's me," you say as you stop and look at Eddie.

"Oh ok," he say disappointedly.

"Hang around your phone this weekend, okay?" You smile as you reach forward and place a hand on his bicep.

You lean forward and whisper in his ear, squeezing his bicep as you say, "I stay up late."

You place a gentle kiss on his cheek and pull away, leaving behind a stunned Eddie Munson.

"Bye Eddie," you call out as you skip over to your friends.

He sheepishly waves, barely processing your actions before he can even properly react.

There's no way the person you were before would ever do anything like that, but he didn't mind at all. In fact, he couldn't wait to get to know you more. He wanted to see every side of you and hope you want to see every side of him too.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #stranger things fanfic #stranger things s4 #stranger things season 4 #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #urfavstargirl1

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aria-ashryver · 26 days

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SAAM2024 - SA Awareness Month

TW: SA, discussions around rape and sexual violence

Listen, I’m going to talk about something it isn’t easy or fun to talk about. I’m going to try and get a point across, and hopefully have it amount to something legible, because I am already feeling my body physically reacting with symptoms of stress.

I want to talk about sexual assault.

Did you know that April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month? And has been, for the last 23 years? Because I sure didn’t! Which is wild, considering I am a survivor of six separate incidents of sexual assault, two of which were penetrative rape.

I looked up the SAAM2024 hashtag and found crickets. Because who the hell wants to talk about sexual violence and rape on a random Thursday, right?

The thing is, we need to be having these conversations.

Of course, the onus isn’t on survivors to start the conversation — who would ask someone who is horrifically traumatised to open those scars again and talk about their trauma? I couldn’t even say the word “rape” for years.

[note: I have chosen not to censor the word rape here as a part of my own recovery process. Its just a word. I refuse to let it incite terror. Its just a word. ]

So who, then? If we could all talk about sex and sexual assault —if these were topics of conversation that weren’t so taboo to discuss— we could begin to take steps to make things safer for ourselves and for others.

So here I am, talking.

I feel it is important to destigmatise sex as this hush hush topic; it’s important to be able to discuss safe sex, consent, to differentiate what is just “bad sex” from what is assault. People are often quick to brush off encounters that give them the ick as just “bad sex”.

I was no different.

At sixteen, I didn’t have the terminology to describe what happened to me as rape. In a culture that glamorises illicit affairs and drunken hook-ups at parties, I didn’t have the comprehension to realise that what happened to me was not some sexy, drunken, desirable thing.

[trigger warning for more context around the first of my rapes]

I had been at a party, celebrating the wrap of my high school’s theatre production. I had been drinking underage and was extremely drunk*.

(*which in no way excuses what happened to me — it is important to take steps to dismantle rape culture and victim-blaming.)

There was a classmate I had been on a few dates with, and though we had been handsy during makeout sessions a few times, we had never discussed having sex. He offered to pick me up from the party, to give me a place to stay for the night. He had not been in attendance at the party, and was completely sober. By the time he drove us both home, I was already intermittently blacking out.

I have only a few memories of that night. One, crystal clear even to this day — a concerned classmate, grabbing my arm as I was heading out of the venue. The look of alarm on his face as he asked if I had a safe means of transport home. I lied to him. I have no idea why. I told him my mother was waiting in the vehicle that had just pulled up, and he let me go.

The next memory that I have is of his bedroom ceiling. A vague, blurred outline of his unclothed body over mine, as he was raping me.

Yes, we had been at that tentative, early stage of a potential relationship. Yes, I had taken him up on the offer to go to sleep at his house.

But, in the state I was in, there is no possible way I could have consented to sex.

I knew something was wrong, afterwards. I knew I spent the next night curled in a ball, sobbing in the shower for a reason. I knew there was a reason I froze up when a friend side-eyed me at school the following Monday, and said “you had sex with him, didn’t you?”. What I didn’t understand was that the reason was because I had been raped.

Because I didn’t have the vocabulary to describe my experience as such.

Because people don’t like to talk about sexual assault.

But we need to talk about sexual assault.

Conversations about sex can and should be removed from the concept of arousal. You can and should talk about sex without it being labelled as horny, or flirty, or suggestive — because it is just another topic to learn about.

Sex is an intricately nuanced thing that can mean so many different things to so many different people. There are elements of shame and embarrassment around sexual encounters sometimes; young and naive as I was, I was ready to take my crawling feelings of shame, self-blame, disgust, and put them down to “it was just bad sex”.

It wasn’t until long after the horror of my second, more violent rape, that I was able to pinpoint some of the trauma responses as being the same as that first time. There were patterns there, feelings that, had I been in a position of knowing more about safe sex and consent, I would have recognised sooner for what they were.

Its all well and good to go “hey! Don’t rape people!” and pat yourself on the back for your activism.

But the thing is, that kind of does sweet fuck all to actually help people who are at risk of experiencing sexual violence. What we really need is to take actionable steps toward improving people’s sexual safety and practises around consent and safe sex.

So what does that look like?

We talk about sex and consent without stigma.

We believe survivors and do not victim-blame

We practice respecting other people’s bodily autonomy in everyday scenarios, before it ever reaches a sexual context — if someone doesn’t want to hug you, respect their autonomy! If someone tells you to stop tickling them, even though they are laughing, hey, guess what? Respect their autonomy!

We remember what consent looks like, and take steps to inform others — consent is always clear, continuous, coercion-free, and conscious.

We make it second nature to take basic steps toward safety — never leave a drink unattended at a party! Stick to a buddy system to ensure people get home safe! Not because you suspect something will happen, it's just a default behaviour!

Be that classmate that tries to stop a drunk person walking out into the night alone.

The more we do these kinds of things, the less mystical and nebulous this whole “safe sex and healthy consent” thing becomes, and the safer we all are for it.

I’m gonna cut myself off here for my own wellbeing, as this has been extremely taxing, but let me provide a few links that I think are relevant. I hope this might be in some way helpful, and encourages others to continue the conversation offline. (or online, even -- reblogs are totally fine, and please feel free to add other stories or links if you have resources to share)

Be safe, and to any SA survivors who happen to be reading this, please know that you will always be yours, and what happened to you was not your fault. 💖

What is Consent (VeryWellMind)

History of Sexual Assault Awareness Month (NSVRC)

Sexual Violence Prevention: Beginning the Dialogue (NSVRC)

How to Support a Survivor (CRCC)

Finding Help If You’ve Been Sexually Abused (Crisis Text Line)

#tw sa #cw sa #cw sa mention #tw r*pe #SAAM #SAAM2024

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sugatrapp · 23 days

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「 O b s i d i a n 」

•─────────────•°•❀•°•─────────────•

Part I

Pairings: Severus Snape x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: Professor Greeves’s infatuation with the potions master reaches a breaking point when he begins spending more time with his assistant.

Warnings: Lovesick reader ~ Jealousy ~ Angst ~ Use of “they” pronouns ~ Non-specified gender of reader

A/N: The last name Greeves is given but reader is otherwise not described.

AO3

Masterlist

Ko-Fi

•─────────────•°•❀•°•─────────────•

Fridays in Advanced Phylactery Making held a special place in Professor Greeves’s heart. Watching awe light up their students’ eyes after separating the metal from their molds never failed to light a fire of pride in them. The hollow pieces were dim and bare bones, but it was a steppingstone to material that would prove useful beyond their studies.

Sanding was next. Each student was equipped with sheets of wet sandpaper as they hunched over their tables and ran them over their soon to be amulets. Greeves had to correct a few eager ones well on the way to sanding a hole in the frames. It was understandable; they’ve been waiting since fifth year to start crafting. Two whole years of learning theory and writing papers on proper amulet usage left plenty of time to weed out bad apples and encourage those with a genuine interest. Much to their surprise, only two students dropped the course while leaving a majority of thirteen.

They couldn’t ask for better students. It was every professor’s dream to have an engaged, well-behaved class every day. They were the talk around the staff room, including from the potions master. One Monday evening while both professors were heading off to dinner in the Great Hall, he expressed his disbelief after hearing of their students’ accomplishments and quick comprehension.

“Some of the seventh years can hardly brew a Wiggenweld potion, let alone craft a talisman,” he grumbled.

It was a normal day in the Hall. The students talked among themselves while forking down their meals. Greeves noticed a little too late that the only available seats were at his usual end of the table. They struggled to contain the warmth rushing through their face and their trembling hands. Talking with the reclusive dungeon bat was rare in and of itself, but sitting near him during mealtimes was unheard of for them. Even in the three years they’d been at Hogwarts, the opportunity had presented itself only one other time, much less desired back then.

Now, as they piled food onto their plate while continuing to speak about their classes, Greeves was aware of their lingering gaze. It wouldn’t surprise them if he could see the hearts shining in their eyes. His deep drawl caressed their soul with feather light fingers, leaving it a purring mess. His obsidian pools drew Greeves in further into their depths each time their eyes met. They seared their skin when they weren’t looking. And his hair, sleek and majestic, aroused the urge to run their fingers through it.

To say they were smitten was an understatement.

His perfect lips were saying something, yet no words reached their ears.

They wiped the serene smile stretching across their face, attention planted firmly back in the present. Hopefully they weren’t as obvious as they were back then. After a few laps around the rows of tables, the clock hanging above the door signaled the end of class and the end of the school week.

“Great work today everyone. Please bring your projects to my desk and don’t forget to clean your workstations,” they looked pointedly at the student notorious for leaving her area in a whirlwind. She blushed before sweeping her metal shavings into a bin. The rest scrambled to collect their things and turn in their work.

“Next week we will learn how to infuse them with magic, so make sure to begin reading the section in your textbooks,” they called to their retreating forms.

Excited chatter settled over the group, continuing down the hall. While they pondered their plans for the weekend, Greeves had their own to attend to. They opened their bottom desk drawer, retrieving a small drawstring bag. They turned it over in their hand then stowed it away in their pocket with a deep breath. Very big plans indeed.

An embarrassing bounce plagued their steps on their way to the Great Hall. Their stomach growled angrily at their insolence, empty since the lackluster biscuit and jam breakfast they had. They couldn’t entirely blame waking up later than usual. No, the nerves from haunting thoughts of a certain dark-haired man are partially to blame.

Before he grew to tolerate them, Severus hadn’t made it easy to get close to him. Asking him a simple question about his day seemed like a crime. Greeves could admit they didn’t trust others easily either, but there came a time when they had to realize not everyone had bad intentions. They didn’t know why he was so cautious. All they knew was they wanted him to take a chance on them.

The usual cacophony of chatter greeted them as they entered the Great Hall. A couple of students waved at them while they walked down the aisle, which they reciprocated with a smile. It eased their mind slightly from the task at hand.

It’s not a big deal, they thought, just say you want to talk to him about something privately. But would that be too forward? Too weird? Would he want to talk to me at all? They were so lost in their head that they didn’t realize the seat beside him was already occupied. They almost choked on their next breath. There she was, Clara—his newly appointed potions assistant—munching away on grapes while talking to him. Her animated manner of speaking was hard to ignore. Some days it was infectious to a degree.

Today was not one of those days.

When Clara first joined the Hogwarts staff, Greeves didn’t mind her jovial company. It made grading and trips to Hogsmeade more interesting. The stories she told of her muggle life in America fueled their desire to visit it one day. She made an honest effort to get to know each of her colleagues. Though not everyone appreciated her chipper attitude. Severus scoffed at any mention of her. He gave her the treatment he gave every newcomer: one-word answers and avoidance like they were diseased ridden. Clara didn’t heed their warnings about his standoffishness, pacing furiously in their classroom one day with a frown that didn’t fit her face.

“I mean, he didn’t even let me finish what I was saying!”

Greeves recalled similarly their time as a newbie. They didn’t fully accept him brushing them off either, but they learned when not to push him too hard. Clara, not so much.

“Don’t be too upset,” they patted her shoulder before going back to putting up supplies. “He’s like that with everyone.”

“But I want us to be civil at least. He won’t even give me the time of day!”

Greeves smirked, vaguely remembering having the same conversation with Professor McGonagall.

“He’ll come around eventually. Just don’t bombard him so soon, okay? Ease into it.”

She paused her frantic movements to ponder their words then nodded, a determined expression replacing her frown.

“Okay. Thanks, Professor.”

They wouldn’t have bothered if they knew it would lead to that. Their heart pounded against their chest harder the closer they get to the head table. He didn’t look annoyed or even mildly disinterested. He was actually engaging with her. They rounded the table, pausing to address them.

“Hello Clara,” it came out more strained than they intended. “Professor.”

Greeves barely paid attention to her cheery response and focused their attention on him instead. He glanced over for a second and gave a polite nod.

Ouch. It felt like their every move was being ridiculed and scrutinized as they took the available seat next to Professor McGonagall further down the table. They greeted the older woman and made a bit of small talk between bites of pasta. They went into autopilot mode. They didn’t fully comprehend what they or Minerva were discussing. All they could linger on was the fact that Clara had waltzed in and wormed her way into Severus’s good graces much faster than them. Much faster than they had heard from the other professors.

A sudden giggle reached their ears, startling them from their trance. They looked in that direction, regretting it immediately. Clara was cackling at something he said. But what really left their heart heavy was the expression on his face. His fine lines were smoothed out, the corner of his lips raised in a half smile, and a glint in his eyes that reminded them of stars on a moonless night. They never saw him look so…placid.

Greeves sighed, long and defeated. They turned back to their plate where they’d been pushing and prodding at their food. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a good idea to talk to him after all.

“Are you alright, dear?” Minerva interrupted their spiraling thoughts.

They blinked, quickly forcing a smile when the question registered.

“Of course, Professor. Just thinking about the assignments I have left to grade.”

They took another bite of food to sell the lie though grimaced afterwards. It had gone cold. Minerva took one look over her shoulder at what they had been transfixed on before a knowing smirk tugged on her lips.

“This wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with a certain professor, would it?”

“No-No, not at all!”

Even they didn’t believe the lie. Their half-hearted denial fell on deaf ears.

“You should tell him how you feel.”

“And if he doesn’t feel the same?”

She placed a warm hand on their shoulder. “Then you’ll know, and you won’t be tormented by constant what-ifs.”

They were still unsure, yet groups of students heading for the exit let them know they didn’t have long to decide. From the corner of their eye, they saw Severus taking his leave, his cloak billowing behind him. Clara was nowhere to be seen.

Perhaps Minerva was right. It made sense for them to get along. It would be counterproductive if they despised one another while working together so closely. Or maybe Greeves was setting themselves up for heartbreak. Maybe they were closer than typical colleagues. Either way, they knew they had to do something.

They had to know for sure.

They thanked Minerva for the advice before heading off to their chambers to freshen up.

•─────────────•°•❀•°•─────────────•

Unfortunately for them, patrol duty didn’t wait or care about their prior plans.

The halls were calm apart from the stragglers they caught sneaking around with firecrackers. It was even worse since they now had to serve them with a lengthy detention sentence on Monday. After escorting them back to their respective common rooms, they realized they weren’t far from the potions’ classroom. Past curfew or not, Greeves could count on Severus doing some late-night grading or reading. They figured a slight deviation wouldn’t hurt.

They fished the drawstring pouch from their pocket, a faint blue glow emanating from it in the dim lighting. On they walked toward the dungeons, feeling the gradual shift of temperature to a biting chill. They gave themselves a pep talk the entire way that did nothing to slow their doubts.

The door came into view, left cracked open which he only did when he expected them to drop by. Did he notice their not-so-subtle staring at dinner? Had he been aware of their affection for him the whole time?

They bit their lip as they approached the door, raising their fist to knock when a voice that wasn’t his slashed their resolve.

“It’s refreshing to know someone who’s into the same things as I am. You wouldn’t believe how much I was teased for being a teacher’s pet.”

Clara, Greeves frowned. What was she doing here? They willed their heart to quiet for fear of anyone hearing, leaning closer to hear his response.

“It’s nothing against you personally. Others only fear and envy what they don’t understand.”

“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”

“My early days were no walk in the park either, but you can’t dwell on the past lest you prove them right. You have a brilliant mind and potions are a viable medium, personal bias aside of course.”

“That means a lot, Severus.”

Heels clicked further away before a pin drop silence settled in. With feathered steps, they inched the door open enough to see what was happening. The moment their eyes focused, they gasped and covered their mouth with both hands. The pouch hit the ground with a muffled clack. They…

A hellscape realized was the only thing close to describing the scene. Their blurry forms pulled away from each other as they questioned the noise, one of them starting towards Greeves. They forced their legs to work, casting the disillusionment spell then taking off running. Patrol forgotten, they didn’t stop until they reached their chambers. Only when the door was closed and securely locked behind them did they allow the building sob to escape. They slid down the doors length until they were on the floor, hiding their face behind their knees.

At least they finally got an answer.

•─────────────•°•❀•°•─────────────•

TAGLIST

@liv2post

@cold-blooded-girls

@bobobomao

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

@reivelmin

@evans23

@dracolilhoe

✨Leave a comment below if you would like to be added to this series' tag list! ✨

#sugatrapp #reader insert #gender not specified #harry potter #snape x reader #severus snape x reader #angst

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horseshoegirl · 13 days

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Set Me Alight: Part 8 - Salt and The Sea

📜Everyone has been on a Bob kick lately (I think), so this is coming right when it should! Let's see how Grace and Bob feel about all this. Shall we? 👀

‼️ - +18, Minors DNI, Strong Language, Original Female Character (s), Bradley Bradshaw x Natasha Trace, Bob Floyd x Original Female Character (This is all in their perspective), Angst, mentions of bullying, hurt, overheard fights, preventing a panic attack, frustration, and Grace being sad and done with Bullshit.

#4.6k

Part 7 | Masterlist | Part 9

Present Day

Sixteen hours.

That's how long Bob's carefully guarded, carefully constructed walls took to crumble after all these years.

There was an inkling the night before as he settled into his tent, a feeling that knocked once or twice from the inside of his chest. It wasn't there when he woke up this morning or during the trek here to the falls.

But the second Grace raced up behind him, everyone watching Veronica climb out of the water, that feeling returned. It seemed no longer content to sit around and wait for Bob to figure out why it had.

Grace grasped his hand, pulling herself to hide behind his body so she could stifle her giggles into the back of his shoulder. Bob couldn't help the few snorts that shook through his body either. However, he pitied Javy, watching as he tried to console his girlfriend, who was stomping her foot like a three-year-old child over the fact that her makeup had been ruined.

The both of them couldn't say it wasn't an unwelcome sight. They knew what you had done, catching you hooking something onto the loop of Veronica's jeans, knowing it was damn well meant for Jake. Though the pair knew better than to act on it, they imagined themselves holding up a fist to the air, like in the Breakfast Club, silently praising the act of Karma on your behalf.

Maybe even quietly counting tallies next to your name in Bob's traveller's journal.

You needed a win. A big win against one of those two. They weren't going to say shit about it. They only wished, deep down, they could have helped.

But when Bradley took you by the arm, leading you way, another knock, this time harder, thumped in his chest. Another followed it. And another, until that feeling morphed into what Bob could only describe as a white-hot pain, burning every nerve in the pit of his stomach.

Bob knew what was about to happen.

While there hadn't been much to discuss, Bradley had pulled all the guys together after you went to bed last night to discuss his proposal. Standing in that circle, Bob realized it had been more of a pep talk than anything else.

Everyone already had a predetermined role—some part to play in helping Nat get to the right spot. Bob and Grace merely had to act surprised, with the rest of the group save Jake, you, and Rueben, when they eventually emerged from the bush, a shiny new ring hopefully on her finger.

It was a horrible plan, he had thought then. He knew—more so than most—that involving Jake and you in such an event would only result in disaster. He even had said as much to Grace when he turned in for the night, climbing into their shared tent.

Grace merely highlighted Nat's inconsiderate behaviour regarding your feelings, turning her back to him as she settled into her sleeping bag. The action was so absolute, so final, they said nothing else about it the rest of the night.

But laying awake, staring at Grace's back, Bob couldn't help but think about it. Grace was right. With all the shit Jake and you threw at each other since the moment you two met, Nat would have to be completely stupid not to realize just how fucked up it was not to tell you Jake would be coming on this trip.

It wasn't the first time Grace brought it up, either. Bob knew how his girlfriend felt about Nat, you, the entire group, their inability to stand up for you, and their failure to separate themselves from Nat.

He'd be lying if he hadn't felt the same at one point or another.

But Bob knew why everyone didn't, why he didn't, and why, even to some extent, Jake didn't either, even if he was more verbal about it than anyone else.

From behind the scenes, everyone tried to protect you and themselves from a fallout with Natasha. Not the fallout itself but the aftermath. At that point, he had rolled on his back, trying to figure it all out from the safety and privacy of his tent.

But who was he kidding? There was nothing to figure out.

Nat's scandal was an anvil, and her history and behaviour were hanging over every person in the group by a single thread. Even in the years since it happened, since they had all left school and Grace and Cora joined the group, it still had everyone in a chokehold.

And you were oblivious to it all.

Bob wasn't sure when it happened, but it became an unspoken agreement to protect you from that truth. So they were burying it to keep the peace—at least, everyone but Bradley. Bob couldn't say what was happening inside his friend's head, nor would he ask him.

But nobody would go out of their way to upset the group's 'supposed' hierarchy—not when real friendships and relationships, whether made with Nat's influence or not, were at stake.

You had to deal with the brunt of it, and Bob would regret it every day for the rest of his life.

No kind words or assurances could help the cluster of nerves swimming in Bob's stomach when Grace hooked her arm through his. Leading him to a section of the pond free from tourists, she wanted to avoid the temper tantrum Javy and Rueben, to an extent, would have to deal with. Seeing fish in the water earlier and knowing Bob would get a kick out of trying to identify them, she welcomed the distraction.

But as the pair searched through their books to match the first fish they saw, the first shout vibrated through the air, and Bob felt like he was going to hurl.

There was no mistaking it for what it was. Nat was, for lack of a better word, shitting on you and Jake. It was loud. It was scary. And no matter where anyone went, it was impossible to block out the noise.

They stood there, staring down at the words and diagrams in their books, no longer interested in the fish, scared any movement or action would have them on a chopping block. Though her eyes blurred, Grace was sure there were no more fish to look at anyway, for they, too, would have felt the noise vibrate against the water and would have been scared away.

At least they felt like they were able to.

When it finally fell silent, Grace nervously reached for Bob's hand. She led them away from the water through a tiny gap in the bush, deep into the forest. She didn't dare stop, walking blindly for minutes until she saw a little nook encased by a massive tree.

Its branches hung low, as did those of the surrounding trees. Each covered the space in a vibrant green shade, offering a safe place from the events leading up to this moment. A giant, thick tree root rested above the ground, and Grace pulled Bob down as she sat upon it.

Neither one spoke, nervous to say anything. Birds, the wind and bugs filled this space instead. It could have been hours, though Grace started to play with Bob's fingers only minutes later. He let her slide her fingertips over his skin and grasp around each finger until she smoothly threaded each together. Over and over, she did this, never once altering her pattern or rhythm.

Grace was trying to ground herself. And for Bob, it made everything that much worse.

It had been sixteen hours to the dot since that first knock in his chest. And while Bob had admitted last night and perhaps now that the trip, the excuses, the group dynamic, Nat's behaviour—was hopelessly warped—the truth was he had known for days, months, maybe even years.

He'd simply shoved it all deep down under lock and key, partly for selfish reasons. Sixteen hours was merely all the time it took for that lock to break and for everything to come rushing back to the surface. Because while the person he loved was hurting on behalf of someone else, it was too silent in this forest, even at this distance.

It was the lack of you and Jake tearing each other apart.

"I think something happened to Jake and Maeve," Bob said in a rough voice, finally finding the courage to speak.

Grace's hands froze, not moving an inch. She lifted her head, eyebrows knitting together. Bob didn't meet her gaze, too nervous to look away from their joined hands.

"It's too quiet," he offered softly. "Especially after that."

Grace also dropped her eyes to their hands, biting the inside of her cheek hard. "She'd be tearing into him right now. Forget Nat. Maeve would clear out the whole damn park with a single shout."

Bob nodded absentmindedly, turning his hand to mock Grace's earlier pattern, a silent gesture to let her know he had been paying attention.

"Or she'd be running off to apologize to Nat, and Jake would be seeking us out, tail between his legs."

"Nat should be the one apologizing to her."

Grace's statement was so blunt and sharp that Bob feathered his jaw. And something in that quick movement made a thread in Grace's gentle heart snap.

She tore her hand from Bob's grip and shuffled away from him further down the log. She swallowed hard, refusing to turn back and look at him as she fiddled with a ring on her finger. When Bob went to follow, naturally reaching for her like it was second nature, she shuffled again.

"No," she mumbled lowly, shying away from his touch. Bob frowned, sliding closer once again, softly calling her name. But Grace only pushed herself up from the log, her fists balled and clenched tight. "No!"

She stomped forward a few steps, not wanting to leave the found safety of their little nook. Threading her fingers through her hair, she paced back and forth, trying to count her breath.

"Grace..."

She spun wildly, her eyes narrowing, her lips pressing into a thin line, and her jaw clenching. "Don't 'Grace' me," she gritted out behind her teeth.

Bob dropped his forehead into the palm of his hand, his elbow digging hard into his knee. "Don't..."

"Don't what, exactly?" she seethed. "Don't talk about 'it'?

Bob dug his nails into the denim of his jeans - enough to feel a pinch through the fabric on his thigh.

The laugh Grace let out was bitter, morphing into a harsh shout. "Come on, Bob! Cora and I might have been the last ones to join whatever fucked up friend group this is, but Nat couldn't give two shits about Maeve! And it's this unspoken thing nobody talks about. Why?!"

"Grace..."

"Don't!" she snapped, stomping her foot, making clumps of dirt fly out in all directions. "I don't care about some fucked up unspoken agreement! I care about Maeve! Don't tell me you don't, Robert?!"

Bob finally lifted his head, though he focused on the way they came, not once meeting his girlfriend's angry stare.

"Bob, so help me... If you say no..."

"You know I do!" he rushed out, shaking his head.

"Then why don't you fucking say something?!" she cried out. "Why doesn't anyone say something?! She's suffering, and nobody does anything!"

She didn't even know she was crying hot, angry tears until she felt one fall off her cheek, a slight cool breeze marking a path on her skin.

"I wanted to. I wanted to, so badly, the first time I noticed it. And you told me not to."

Bob did, and he always wondered if Grace resented him for it.

She sighed, wiping the tears from her face. She paced back and forth a little bit, trying to calm herself down. Because Bob didn't deserve her anger, it was unfair of her to even yell at him in the first place.

Instead, she walked up to the tree, pressing her forehead into the bark, once again trying to count her inhales and exhales.

"When Bradley told me about Nat when he was going to school, I thought she was just a phase. Whenever he called to talk to Dad, I just sat back and wondered. I wondered how long it would take and what the reason behind the break between those two would be."

Grace lifted her head, fixing her eyes on a ladybug climbing the trunk. "You could imagine my surprise when he brought her home for spring break."

She placed her hand on the wood, twisting back to look at her boyfriend. "I never told you this, but I didn't like her the second I met her."

Bob lifted his head to meet her gaze. "Why..?"

"Because she thought I was a threat. That I harboured a crush on Bradley, and I would steal him from her," she shrugged.

Bob's eyes shot up his skull. "... I mean, you two grew up together... did you... ever?"

Grace audibly gagged, adding a few choking noises for a dramatic effect. "He's like my brother, Bob. What the hell?"

He held his hands up in surrender. "I had to ask."

Grace didn't address the remark when she continued, "She treated me horribly that entire week. She sweet-talked my dad and only was nice to me when he was around. Thank God he saw right through her. The second he left, he said that Carole, Bradley's mom, wouldn't have approved. I agreed."

With a narrowed forehead, Bob's mouth gaped open, bobbing like a fish. "Wait... then why did she..."

"Why did she suddenly start inviting me to stuff? It's cause I was dating you. I was no longer a threat. And she acted like she had never done what she did in the first place."

While Bob might have met Grace through work, he was surprised to learn she had grown up with Bradley. How she acted around Bradley, bore no resemblance to a long-lasting, familiar childhood friendship. However, the longer he thought about it, the more it made sense—her closed-off and quiet nature when she was around them.

That the first time they saw each other again, all Bradley could manage was a slight nod.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Grace only offered causally, "You'd be surprised at all the stuff that doesn't require your input. Sometimes you gotta leave people to do the lame shit they do and watch them fuck it up on their own."

A ball formed in her throat. "But Maeve... when I met Maeve and saw what was happening, my heart broke. And she is the only exception to what I just said."

Bob knew what was coming next. Like a coward, he braced himself hard.

"You told me not to say anything when I first brought it up. But now? I can't keep doing it. Not after what she just did to them. Not after that."

"Grace... Don't..."

"Maeve is drowning, Bob! Drowning!" she shouted angrily, startling a nearby bird on a branch. "And I can't stand it any longer. We need to find her, grab her, and take her home. Take her away from all this. From Nat, from those two bitches... God, if they gaslight anything else, they could practically set the whole fucking forest on fire."

"You don't believe in swearing, Grace," he deadpanned.

"Maybe I do now!" she cried. "I feel guilty. Guilty Bob! Cause I bit my lip like a good girl when Nat just what? Uses her? Ignores her? Disregard her feelings? Like hell, why didn't she try harder to figure the fuck out why Jake and Meave are at each other's throats?! Or how those two bully the fuck out of her?"

"Maeve wouldn't tell us about Jake when we asked."

"And you don't find it strange she wouldn't?" she challenged him. "Out of everyone in the group, she didn't tell a soul. Why? Why didn't she? Why wouldn't she?!"

Grace's heart was hurting, and she knew Bob truly knew why. He had been around them longer than she had, so there must have been a reason he told her not to. There had to be.

"At first, I thought it was something everyone accepted, you know? That everyone was trying to figure out what had happened between her and Jake. I thought tensions were high because of that.

She blew out a shaky breath, Bob not once interrupting her.

"Maybe it was a fucking game they were playing with each other until they finally worked up the courage to admit they like each other enough to get into each other's pants. Cause whatever the cause, Maeve wouldn't be so goddamn hurt if she didn't care!"

Bob closed his eyes, a huff of a laugh escaping his mouth.

"But last to join the group, right? You have to be quiet. Read the room. Get a sense of how to act and what you can say. Cause learning to fit in with new people, you have to pick up these things. The best way to get along with everyone else. Like how Maeve runs the second Jake walks into the room? How she avoids conversations about him if she can help it?"

Grace blew a raspberry out of pure frustration. "Jake was never the real issue, though. Everyone just made it out to be. Everyone should have noticed how Maeve bit her tongue as Nat walked over her opinions. How Nat derails conversations, not just where Maeve is concerned, but practically with everyone to make it about her."

Grace laughed, shaking her head. "She got the brunt of all of it, and we just... watched."

Grace finally approached Bob, standing before him, though he didn't lift his head from where it hung low on his shoulders. Had he chosen to look up, he would have noticed how the sun finally peeked through the leaves, beams of light breaking the shade, leaving Grace in their spotlight.

"I meant, she invites us all on this trip so we can watch her get proposed to? And she doesn't bother to tell her that Jake is coming along, too? I mean... how selfish can she get?!"

"Grace, this isn't going to solve..."

"WHAT ELSE CAN I DO?!" she yelled, throwing her hands at the sky. "That ship left the fucking dock ages ago."

Bob's eyes fixed on a leaf stuck under a fallen branch at her words. Grace knew from that reaction alone that she had resonated with something within his kind, caring soul.

"I just... can't... I can't anymore, Bob. If I'm the first to take the leap and break up this group, then good fucking riddance. It needs to be done so we all can get some peace."

She slid to her knees in the dirt in front of him, her hands resting firmly on the sides of his thighs.

"How many years have Nat and Maeve known each other, and not once did Nat realize how hard her supposed best friend had been falling? How could she not recognize that, Bob? And how could she continue to force Jake and Maeve together when Maeve just wanted to escape?"

She reached forward to cup his cheek, guiding his gaze to meet hers. While silent rage resonated within them, Bob knew it wasn't meant for him.

"Why did you tell me to be quiet that first time I brought this up? Why do you still tell me, too?"

Bob gulped, forcing his eyes away. Grace stroked her thumb under his eye, encouraging him on. "I don't know what happened, baby, but I don't think it will be all sunshine and rainbows when we return to the group. Not this time. Just tell me, please."

Bob blew out a shakey breath and shook his head. "Because I wanted you to stay."

"Stay?"

He had contemplated all the reasons, stacking them up brick by brick last night, refusing to acknowledge the leverage Natasha could have used against him. But Bob had damned himself with that one word.

Stay—He wanted Grace to stay. Because if he brought this up, if he told her, there was a chance she wouldn't—at least, there was a possibility.

He lifted his chin, staring into her eyes.

Nat's so-called leverage was kneeling in front of him, begging him to tell her the truth. Her eyes were desperate, so much so that Bob knew he was possibly damned if he did and undoubtedly damned if he did not. Grace had chosen her path, and he would steadfastly follow her wherever she decided to go.

There was no ever questioning that.

Bob reached for her sides, pulling Grace close between his spread legs. She let him, hands landing softly on his biceps before they slid down to his forearms. Bob traded his grip on her jacket to hold her hands, only to trace the same pattern she had a few minutes before.

He braced himself and took several sharp breaths before asking, "Did anyone ever tell you about Natasha's so-called scandal? Back in school?"

Grace cocked an eyebrow. "Only what Maeve's told me. Bradley and I weren't on speaking terms, and he'd never tell Dad if she had one. Though, Maeve didn't even know the complete story."

She let Bob turn her hand over and trace the lines on the palm of her hand. "But she shut me down hard after that. Saying Nat worked to put it behind her and move on, so we all should, too."

Bob scoffed. "Always protecting her."

"Bob?"

Bob hesitated, his gaze flickering away from Grace's expectant eyes. He swallowed hard, the reluctance clear in his tight jaw. Then he closed his eyes, leaning over to whisper in her ear, his voice cautious but a whisper.

Grace's eyes widened, and a gasp slipped through her parted lips at his words. She could hardly breathe as he told her the story. And when he was finished, she tilted so far back on her heels in shock that she almost fell onto her butt.

"Bob! What the hell? After everything I just told you?!"

Bob still hadn't opened his eyes, his head hung low in shame.

"I would have never left you over that! Over complete and utter bullshit? Who do you think I'd believe more? Her or my boyfriend?"

"I didn't know. I didn't want to risk losing you."

"You listen here, Bob Floyd," Grace urged, grabbing his face with both hands and forcing him to look at her. "I'm in a relationship with you. I love you. I would have never believed her if she had done that to us."

He kissed the inside of Grace's wrist, a deep weight lifting off his chest.

"God, I want to throttle her."

"I think that's why everyone doesn't call her out. Cause they don't want it to happen to them. Or at least, deep down, I never did 'cause I didn't want Maeve or Bradley to be alone with..."

Grace nodded, letting Bob know he did not need to continue explaining.

"We should try to find her, Bob. Let her know we love her and that we'd follow her. I have no idea if anyone else would besides Mickey and Cora. Hell, I'd even offer to leave with her and get drunk on her Aunt's apple cider 'cause this whole damn trip was a bad idea."

Bob huffed a sad laugh. "It is apple picking season. I bet she'd love it if we went with her."

Grace snorted. "You just want free apples so I can make my apple crisp."

With the tension from before gone and the weight of Bob's chest finally disappearing with his confession, he joked comedically, "Ssshh, don't jinx it."

Grace rolled her eyes, letting the moment pass before offering quietly, "Where do you think she is? Maeve?"

Bob regarded her for a moment before letting out a long sigh. "Considering the lack of voices, Maeve's probably tried to separate herself. Or she made a rash decision and decided to leave alone."

Grace gasped. "What about Jake?"

"Jake ... I bet 50 bucks Jake ran after her regardless."

Her face contorted into one of disgust. "What? Why? Can he not leave her alone for once in his life?"

Bob stood, wiping his hands on his jeans, before extending a hand to Grace. She took it without another word and allowed him to guide her up and off the tree. He revealed yet another truth as he helped her step over the massive root.

"Remember when I went with Bradley and Jake before Maeve hurt her wrist? Jake wanted to show us a fishing spot...?"

Grace winced. When Bob told her what happened, she instantly regretted not being out there with you. Hold up in her tent, she had been working on plans for a museum exhibit. Even if she had to do a little work, she could have at least done it in the company of a friend.

"I found out Bradley's been trying to coach Jake into mending things with Maeve. We might have been giving him some... advice."

Grace froze with her two feet atop the curved piece of wood.

"What!!?" she shrieked, making Bob wince. "Please tell me you weren't the one who encouraged him to keep up the prank thing. Bob, if you told him to scream 'there's a Bear..'."

"It wasn't me! Nor was it Bradley! We just told him to try to talk to her without anyone around. Cause things seem to go to shit when everyone else is there. He just needed to incite her to stay. Make her laugh. Talk to her like a human being!"

"Men," she scoffed, jumping down off the root. "Never go to a group of idiots to do a woman's job."

Bob froze, eyeing her carefully. "Are you calling me an idiot?"

Grace smiled, reaching up to stroke across his cheek. She kissed his lips with a quick peck and leaned back. "Hmm... my idiot, though."

She took several steps back towards the falls when she called out over her shoulder to a befuddled Bob. "You realize if we locked them in a room or trapped them in an elevator, with nobody else around, they'd probably figure it out?"

"How so?" he called back, finally following her.

"Jake obviously wants to fix it. Maeve runs. All you need to do is stop her from running. She'll give in if you provoke her enough, which Jake already does."

Bob paused, reflecting for a moment. "He doesn't think when it comes to her, does he?"

"Does she?"

When they emerged from the bush, Bob and Grace ran to the first person they saw, hoping at least someone saw either you or Jake. Nobody had. Not until a few minutes later did a couple mention seeing someone bearing your resemblance climbing the waterfall. They also mentioned seeing someone who looked like Nat go up, but she had already come back down.

Grace stared at them in horror. "I'll go get Mickey and Cora," she rushed out quickly, leaving Bob alone to start the trek up the rocky slope. As he did, a million thoughts crossed his mind.

Finding you and Jake tearing each other apart, hoping Mickey and Cora's skills weren't needed. Or the more stupidly optimistic thought - either of you was trying to find a few moments of peace.

As if.

Or perhaps it was none of those things. Maybe what awaited him above was something far worse than he could ever fathom.

But when he reached the top of the falls, neither you nor Jake were there, and Bob didn't spare the effort to take in the view. Instead, he searched the ground, kneeling when he spied several tracks in the mud.

Two sets, both inherently female, were marked along the river bank in the mud. Bob's eyes followed them until he saw a separate path of them walking back. Then he noticed another pair of tracks, the boot tread clearly belonging to a man. They followed one of the other tracks, veering quickly off into the bushes. They were noticeably disturbed, leaves and branches bent unnaturally, and the longer he followed the underbrush and mud, the more he understood what happened to the two of you.

Bob set off, knowing just exactly where he needed to go.

Can I just say I love Bob and Grace?

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sleepiexx · 8 months

Note

Valeria Garza x fem reader. Reader and Valeria were once lovers until one day she disappeared and a few years later on a mission to capture El Sin Nombre the reader finds out what she has been doing all this time.

Back When I Loved You

Valeria Garza x fem!Reader

Link to Pt.2

Note: so sorry this took like for-fucking-ever, I’ve been working so fucking much I never write anymore 😭😭 I’m so glad I got this done, I needed to write this. Also, I switched to y/n instead of (Y/N) bc I did a survey and it said most ppl prefer y/n, tell me if u think that’s dumb

Summary: It’s been years since y/n had been stationed in Las Almas, returning opens some old wounds she hadn’t realized never healed.

Warnings: death mention (no one actually dies), soap is a slut, uhhh not much else rlly

Word Count: 3345

Quite a peculiar phenomenon, “the one that got away.” The idea of an old flame that was never allowed to fully ignite and crackle into something beautiful, never quite coming to fruition. The kind of love that leaves you wondering what could have been had circumstances been different, desperately yearning for even the slightest taste of something more.

The topic came up one day as the task force sat around at a bar drinking, waiting for the assignment that they would inevitably have the next day. It started as Gaz recounted the story of how he met a girl before graduation and fell madly for her. Their story ends there with the fact that the moment Gaz realized how he had felt for her, he was being shipped off to boot camp, never to see his lost love ever again. He spoke of how deeply he regretted not pursuing a relationship with her, and how every time he goes home to visit his mother, a tiny part of him hopes to see her again.

Soap went next. Lord knows the man had many, many regrets and many stories regarding his love life, yet one took president in his mind. “She had the softest skin,” he had said, story veering off the main point and getting caught up on the details as it had nearly a million times, once about her hair, three times about her eyes, and now about how “baby soft” her skin was. Eventually— with a little pushing from the others— he told the full story, how he was on vacation, a rarity for him, and how he’d hit it off with this woman. Usually with his one night stands, it was purely sexual, no emotional connection whatsoever. Yet this time, Soap had found himself enchanted. After what he described as a “magical” night, she’d disappeared, and he never got the chance to give her his number.

“What about you, old timer, I’m sure you’ve got an old flame who escaped ya’,” Soap beamed, turning the conversation towards Price who smiled and nodded fondly to himself.

“She was-“ he sighed, “well, she was something.” No matter what he did, he couldn’t escape the smile that creeped up his cheeks as he told the story. A kind lover, she was. Made him breakfast in the mornings, listened as he complained about work— he was just a Lieutenant back then, but she listened. And she was always there. Until she wasn’t. The Captain’s story ever so slowly changed from happily reminiscing and took on a much more somber tone as Price recounted the fighting that led up to his break up with the woman. He had been coming up on the end of his contract with the British Army and she had wanted him to stay with her, start a family, but Price had been in the military for a long time. He had no clue what life would even be like outside of the Army. And so he reenlisted. He spoke about how deeply he regretted that, how there were nights that he woke up and just imagined how his life could have panned out had he stayed with her. Would he be awoken by their kids pouncing up and down on him, rather than the ever-present nightmares he gets as his current wake up call? He would never know, and that would haunt him to this day.

Price took a big swig of whiskey at the melancholy thought, turning the attention toward y/n, “What about you, kid? You’re still young, hopefully no sad stories yet?”

Y/n shook her head, “I don’t see it as sad, more so I see it as I’m happy I got that experience. Yeah I’m upset that it never went anywhere but I’m glad that it happened period.” She smiled, happy with her answer but the others stared on with shocked looks. “What?” She asked.

Soap’s eyes were wide, “Well you can’t just say all o’ that and then just not tell us the story.” He shook his head, flabbergasted, “We all told you, save for Ghost but the man’s already very private, so now it’s your turn.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, “yeah, yeah,” she took a sip of her drink, a little liquid courage to help loosen the story out of herself, “I was stationed in Mexico for some time. Beautiful country, beautiful people, I loved every second of it. Every night I would go out with my American buddies on the town and we would just fuck around, have some fun. Well one night I’d gotten separated, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe they ditched me, I don’t know, we don’t really talk anymore so I don’t think I ever will. But anyways, as you do when you’re drunk and alone, I found trouble. Some man came up to me with a knife, tried to rob me, I was really in no state to fight back, but in comes this woman to defend me. I’d seen her around the base before, she was Mexican Special Forces, I knew that. I also knew how goddamn hot she was. With her tattoos running all up and down her toned arms, and how enchanting her deep brown eyes were.”

The team immediately got chatty at that, hyping her up. “L/n with the moves,” one of them had teased. She laughed, feeling blood pumping in her face.

“So anyways, she jumps in and fights the guy for trying to rob me while I was so drunk. I was absolutely slack-jawed. I’d never had anyone fight so fiercely for me in my life, especially not a stranger, and even more especially not a stranger I had a huge crush on. I remember her turning to me, once the dude was down for the count and just saying ‘you okay?’ I can remember her exact tone and god, it made me melt. She walked me back to my barracks and I was done for. The very next day I sought her out and told her I’d buy her a drink to make up for it. Thus started an epic romance.”

Y/n grinned as the others piped in with their little comments, excited to finally get to talk about her lost love after all this time.

“For months we went out together, dancing, talking, drinking, everything else that comes along with a relationship,” she smirked at that, face only dropping as she got the ‘getting away’ part, “and, uh, we were happy, y’know. I could see myself having a future with this woman. But as life has it, I was stationed elsewhere while she had been on a mission. I tried calling the base a few times.” She stopped to collect her breath, “but, uh, I was told that her and her squad went MIA on that mission. Likely killed in action is what they said.”

She sniffled a little bit, hoping it was unnoticeable by her teammates. Shaking her head as she finished her drink, and began to stand she turned to them for a final time, “I’m gonna turn in for the night it’s getting late.”

The rest of them nodded, waiting until she was gone to quietly chat amongst themselves. She was the topic of choice, of course. How bad they all felt for her. How guilty they felt for bringing it up. Ultimately it wasn’t their fault but they felt awful. Not too long after, they themselves all turned in, awaiting what the next day would have for them.

Months later, after many missions, and after the conversation they had had slipped away from them, the task force found themselves on their way to Mexico in search of the infamous cartel leader, El Sin Nombre. No one dared to mention y/n’s past, but of course, they weren’t completely discreet with their fleeting looks.

Despite their knowledge of y/n’s deployment to a base in Mexico, they were still shocked to see that the Colonel as well as some of the soldiers of the Las Almas base knew her.

“Y/n! Long time no see, last I saw you, you were still just a private.” Colonel Alejandro Vargas said, patting her on the shoulder in greeting as the group got off their chopper.

Y/n smirked, “could say the same to you. Wonder who died and made Lieutenant Vargas into the colonel of the Mexican Special Forces.”

Alejandro rolled his eyes and went to counter, but the man next to him made himself known with a contagious laugh. The task force could see sparkles in y/n’s eyes at the sound.

“Rudy!” She shouted, happily enveloping the giggly man into a hug.

“Hi, y/n.” He smiled, hugging her back just as tight.

In the midst of it all, Captain Price couldn’t help but clear his throat to get the group’s attention. “I hate to break this up,” he said, thick British drawl dragging out every word, “but we really do have some pressing matters to take care of.”

Y/n and Rodolfo split, standing at attention. Alejandro spoke for them, “you are right, there will be plenty of time to catch up once this is all over.”

They each nodded in agreement, eager to get to the task at hand.

It was no easy feat. Despite not really keeping up with the news in Las Almas since she had been gone, y/n knew just how bad cartels could get. That paired with the frustration that seemed to radiate from Alejandro every time El Sin Nombre was mentioned, he had to be some bad, bad motherfucker.

Soap went in under no guise or cover, walking right up to the front door and presenting himself like meat to hungry wolves. Y/n and Alejandro, on the other hand, terminated nearly half a dozen cartel soldiers, stealing their masks and outfits to fit right in to the party.

They surveilled Soap throughout, following closely behind, making sure no actual cartel soldiers noticed him. They followed him right to the third floor, right to El Sin Nombre. When the name Valeria left Soap’s mouth after looking through the snake cam, y/n and Alejandro made eye contact, both feeling a similar nausea at the thought.

But they shook it off.

It couldn’t possibly be her, right? She died on a mission targeting the son of La Araña, didn’t she? Sure she was officially determined MIA but a person doesn’t get lost this long, not like this.

Sure enough, as the door burst open, through the hail of bullets being shot across the room both to and from cartel higher ups, there she was.

The shock was evident on y/n’s face as she saw the woman kneeling on the roof. She saw short, dark hair and shook. It’s not her, it can’t be her. But it was. She could tell by the dark eyes carefully watching her every move as she walked behind the woman, pulling her hands down around the woman’s body and behind her back to cuff them.

Y/n prayed the woman couldn’t feel the tremor in her hands, but she knew all too well. Once upon a time the dark-haired woman knew every detail about her, it almost seemed as though that hadn’t changed.

Few words were uttered on the chopper back to the Vaquero’s base— save for a few “shut up Graves,”’s since the man refused to stop talking all smug, as though he was the sole reason El Sin Nombre had finally been caught— but a million things went unsaid as y/n avoided the Vaqueros’ gazes. The rest of the 141 were none the wiser to the fleeting looks that the Vaqueros shared.

The waiting period was long and drawn out as the woman was processed. Of course she had to have her prints and DNA taken, it’s never as simple as getting to talk to her first.

The anticipation was getting to y/n, who was anxiously chewing her nails down to the beds, leaving them jagged and slightly bloody.

The door clicked open, catching the room’s attention, “She’s been fully processed, whenever you’re ready you may begin the interrogation.” The soldier in the doorway stepped aside, clearing the path for the 141, the Colonel, and his second in command to pass.

They walked swiftly and with precision as they borderline-prowled their way down to the storage container that held the woman. Price took the lead as y/n and Alejandro fell behind, dragging their feet. Rudy followed behind the two, making sure neither avoided the inevitable.

Graves was the first to open his mouth, gesturing to both Alejandro and Valeria, “explain how you two know each other?”

Words, glares, and taunts were exchanged as they began the story.

“Go on, tell them.” Alejandro commanded.

Valeria scoffed, “I don’t take orders anymore, even the dogs in Las Almas know not to bark at me.” Valeria’s eyes caught y/n’s hesitant form as she spoke the last part.

Alejandro angrily shook his head, “she’s ex-military, we served together.”

Despite their distances, and their long time apart, the two shared a perfect flow when telling the story.

“Different squads, same unit.” Valeria began, “you were the wild ones, huh? Los Vaqueros.”

Alejandro grinned at her words.

Her gaze once more shifted to y/n, “my squad was clean cut señoras y señores.”

“Until the raid on the son of La Araña,” Valeria smirked at the sentence, Alejandro continued. “Her team was told to cordon of the city to ward off La Araña’s enforcers and prevent the bloodshed.”

“That’s exactly what we did,” she smiled.

Alejandro’s anger only spiked at her smug face, “What, you kept out his enforcers because you were his enforcers, eh?”

Her voice was taunting, “he was escorted to the mountains without incident, also to prevent bloodshed.”

Y/n felt her stomach turn. All the time she spent sobbing over Valeria and yet all the while the woman was running around doing all sorts of illegal activities.

Rudy piped in, almost as shocked at the realization as y/n, “he was supposed to go to prison.”

Graves grabbed Valeria’s shoulder, pulling her back, and further pissing off y/n. “So you killed him. And you took over.”

“I created a power vacuum, and I filled it. Las Almas needs me.”

The moment his hands looked as though they were about to wander, y/n was upset, nearly growling out a rage-filled “hands off.”

Graves lifted his hands off of the woman as if he’d been burned, holding them up. “Woah, woah, woah. What’s with you getting all feisty over the prisoner?”

Y/n just glared, gaze unmoving.

“Holy shit,” Gaz whispered, glancing between y/n and Valeria, “It’s her, isn’t it?”

Y/n’s eyes softened in confusion, turning her attention to Gaz, “Pardon?”

The rest of the team seemed to come to the same realization as him, moments before he spoke, “Her. She’s Her. You said you had a romance with a soldier while stationed in Mexico, a soldier who went missing. With what Alejandro said, the stories line up, Valeria is the woman you were in love with, isn’t she?”

Y/n broke eye contact, slightly embarrassed, still enraged, altogether hot in the face as she stared at the floor. “Yeah,” she admitted hesitantly, “yeah, it’s her.”

Valeria’s eyes were stuck to her down-trodden form, smirking at the fact that she now knew; y/n had talked about her. Y/n talked about her to her team. A sweet little thought.

“Nothing to be ashamed about,“ Valeria spoke cockily, “you sure weren’t ashamed of it when we were in love.”

When we were in love.

The words stung. The wound was old, yet here it had been ripped open as if it had happened mere days ago.

“Yeah, well that was before you left me to join the cartel.”

Valeria scoffed, “Join it? Please, I fucking run it. Besides, I think you forget that you’re the one who left.”

As the tension rose between the former lovers, the atmosphere in the room became rather awkward. The 141, the Vaqueros, and the few Shadows who were in the room sat staring dumbly at each other, wondering just how long they should let this go on

“You wanna go there? As I recall, you left weeks before I was deployed on what I thought was a mission. Turns out you went off with your little druggie friends to play gangster. I called the base a million times, they told me you were dead!”

Valeria stood from her seat abruptly, causing everyone else in the room to reach for their guns. Neither y/n, nor Valeria stood down. Y/n gestured for the others to leave the room, they hesitated but eventually followed her command. Now face to face, feeling each other’s breaths on their cheeks, the two seethed.

“I bet you would have liked that, huh?” Valeria started, eyes set into a deep glare, “me being dead would have made this so much easier for you, no loose ends.”

If y/n didn’t know any better, she would think this was Valeria trying to get y/n to kill her, death before snitching after all. But y/n knew her, knew suicide wasn’t her calling. This wasn’t a plead for death, this was a challenge. Fuck with me, I dare you.

Y/n’s lips turned downward into a gritty scowl. Even through her anger, tears managed to slip their way through her glaring eyes at the thought of her ever wanting Valeria dead.

“Never.” She whispered, voice cracking, “I cried every night for you for months, Valeria. I loved you so much, god, I still fuckin’ do.”

She reached into her shirt, pulling out two sets of dog tags and gripping tightly onto one of them. The ones she held, Valeria knew very well. They matched the ones she kept tucked under her shirt. An old pair that she had given to y/n way back when; they were the ones she was issued as a sergeant, before she reached lieutenant status and received the ones she currently wore all these years later.

And all at once, Valeria felt her heart shatter.

All these years she had spent letting her anger toward y/n fester and grow, thinking she had just abandoned her. All these years and yet all the while, y/n was devastated. They told y/n she died. Y/n thought she was dead. Y/n mourned her, cried for her, hurt for her. And here was Valeria, yelling at her.

She softened her stiff posture, cautiously reaching out for y/n. Valeria cupped y/n’s cheek, and for a while they just sat there like that. Time passed but it felt like nothing compared to the eternity they had missed together. Y/n finally looked up. In one fell swoop, Valeria crashed her lips to y/n’s

The kiss was all consuming, destroying any distractions in its path as the lovers made up for lost time. Caution was thrown to the wind with neither girl worried about their positions and duties. In this kiss they were not El Sin Nombre nor Sergeant l/n, they were just lovers. Just Valeria and y/n, reunited.

What felt like a million hours were lost in each other’s lips. As they separated, Valeria’s eyes opened, y/n’s stayed shut. Valeria stared, waiting for y/n to reveal her gorgeous eyes, yet when the moment finally came, it hurt. Y/n’s eyes shined with sorrow, something Valeria could see very clear.

Valeria tried to reach forward, but y/n stepped back, clearing her throat, “this,” she sighed deeply, fighting internally with herself, “this cannot happen again.”

She turned her back toward Valeria, knowing it would be too hard to look her in the eyes. Knowing she would lose all composure and fold. But she stayed strong, and in a few short steps, she was out of the room.

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