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#man i bet the guy’s a pain to direct
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Name me a Reason
Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem!Reader f.t Soap
Code named ‘Salem’ by your teammates, you found yourself in a rather difficult situation with Ghost and Soap. Somehow you had to find a building, regroup with the guys and find a safe house. Easy, right? No because you get shot.
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“Salem.” Soap whispered into the radio. You held the button for the radio, eyes wide in fear he was in trouble. None of you knew where the other was, not even Ghosts direction skills could lead either of you to him. There were people everywhere, civilians or what not, soldiers carrying guns, and you had to avoid everyone. You gave him the go ahead to speak, pausing all of your movements to look for any sign of Soap running away from gunfire. “You know your name means ‘peace’ in the Bible?”
You signed, returning your eye back into the scopes glass to look for any sign of Ghosts location nearby.
“Since when does Johnny read the Bible?” Ghosts low voice came through the radio next just as you stood up, grabbed your gun and started running from rooftop to rooftop trying to get closer to the centre land. “Thought you out of everyone wouldn’t believe in shit like that.”
“I don’t. My midder had me go church ever’ Sunday.”
“Huh. I thought Salem meant undamaged in Islam-” Ghost started.
“I’m going to damage both of you if you don’t shut up…and it means none of those.”
You scanned your surroundings as you finally made it on ground, a small hope of the right direction only motivating you to push more, even though you had a bullet stuck in your shoulder and your left arm was basically useless.
You pressed the radio button again, your back pressed up against a wall as you looked around for any targets. When you saw none, you swiftly moved forwards through empty alleyways. You figured if you were going to get made, you’d do it when there was a group of Tangos. So, you needed to stay quiet.
“If we’re talking about names let’s talk about Soap.”
You heard him audibly groan followed by a hum from Ghost. You’d bet Simon already knew since their very clear ‘bromance’ was strong, but wanted him to say it again. When Johnny didn’t answer, Ghost spoke up.
“He can clean houses quickly.”
“What?”
“Expert speed and accuracy he told me.”
Soap groaned and quickly shut down the conversation, a new welcomed silence falling between you three. The building Ghost was in was one with a green door apparently, and you saw one just as such quite close to you. You made sure it was the right one before heading that way, leaving Soap to argue with the two of you that he wasn’t even close to that direction.
You don’t really know what happened next, but when the pain in your shoulder increased dramatically it took you by surprise. You fell to the floor and found cover behind a car, quickly reloading your gun before pointing it in the direction you were being shot at. As if one bullet wasn’t enough, now you had 3, and what sucked is you didn’t know if it was a clean shot. Taking three bullets out would fucking hurt.
You rolled underneath the car, your stomach flat in the ground as you pointed your gun at the targets legs. It wouldn’t kill them but it would disadvantage them, which was good enough for now. It took a bit but eventually you got the upper hand, only being left with two more Tangos.
There was conversation in the radio that you didn’t care pay attention to until your last target was dead. You were still under the car, now shooting down the last man. Checking around you to make sure you were safe before you decided to listen in.
“The mask…take it off.”
“Show my face?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Negative.”
“Are you ugly?”
“Quite the opposite.”
“Cocky bastard.” You whispered, knowing full well both he and soap heard you clearly. You grunted as you crawled from under the car, dusting yourself off before quickly rushing towards your designated building.
“Y/N? Can you confirm?” Soaps smirk could be heard even from the other side of town. You were trying not to get shot, while they talking about how hot Simon was.
There was a long pause and you took a deep breath in, eventually reaching up to press the radio button on your chest. You didn’t wanna over boost his ego, but who were you to lie when you knew damn well about Simons gorgeous face.
“Affirmative.”
“Damn right.”
“No fair, she’s biased.” Soap sighed.
“Shut up and get to that house. Simon, I’m coming in don’t shoot.”
“Copy.”
You pushed open the door with your hand tightly gripping your shoulder, blood seeping between the crack of your fingers as if to mock your attempt to stop the bleeding. You hadn’t radio’d in your injuries, which soon proved stupid.
“You’re bleeding?.” He was by your side at an instant, applying pressure with his own two hands and pushing yours away. To say that hurt was an understatement, but he led you to the nearest worn out chair and sat you on it. “How many?”
“Three. Did they go through?” You winced as he looked for any exit wounds, releasing your shoulder momentarily.
“Only two. We’ll have to get to the safe house first, there’s no meds here.” Ghost clicked the radio button; “Soap we need to move out, Salem’s shot.”
“Go. I’ll find the safe house. Send the location when you’re there. Signal should be better.”
It took you around an hour to find a car, drive to the supposed safe house and then even find the bloody building. Safe to say it was an hour you needed in order not to bleed out. Simon managed to patch it up enough but it was a temporary fix, and so the blood slowly started escaping the cracks of your fingers again.
You felt quite drowsy, head spinning as you tried to blink the white cloud in your eyes away. You’d lost so much blood and there was a bullet still lodged in your body, that itself was going to be a hard procedure.
Simon laid you on the floor, quickly getting to patching you up better. He talked and talked trying to get you to stay awake, but eventually everything did go black and your body went limp.
The lightheadedness turned to heavyheaded the second you woke up. Eyelids so heavy, the light just too bright, your left arm and shoulder bruised. Groaning, you reached up to hold you head, the annoying pounding carried on the more you moved. With that, you tried to slowly sit up, breathing uneven as your body was put under pressure.
“Don’t do that, your shoulders just been fixed.” His voice was too rough for your liking, the pounding only getting worse in your temples. Still, you listened to his orders and laid back down with a huff. “How are you feeling?”
“Sore.” You now managed to open your eyes enough to see him, his heavy duty gear on the floor while he kept his gun close. Your blood covered the sleeves of his shirt, but his hands were clean as if he hadn’t been digging into someone’s body looking for bullets.
There was a silence that followed, not a pleasant one at that. You could tell he wanted to say something just by the way he sat on the couch you were laid out on, but he didn’t. Soap wasn’t anywhere near either, and you didn’t have to look around to know that since he doesn’t shut up.
“Where’s Soa-”
“What we’re you thinking?”
“What?”
“Have you not been through basic training, (Y/N)?” He only now looked at you, turning his head sideways to make eye contact. His mask was still on, something you were expecting to see as you were in an unfamiliar place. “You call in injuries for fuck sake. I was right outside.”
“No. The first one I could handle but they ambushed me, there wasn’t even time for me to process it, Simon. I was so close to where you were there was no point. They were dead before I even noticed I got shot.”
He scoffed, shaking his head as he stood up walking wherever there was space.
“I could of helped. That’s the whole point of a team!”
“Did you not listen to a thing I just said?” You say up straight, swinging your legs off the edge of the couch so they could rest on the floor. “There was no time! I would of if it mattered. I was right outside the goddamn door-”
“Why didn’t you call it in the first time then?!”
You had no excuse for that to be honest, you just thought you could handle it and there was no point worrying the guys. You wouldn’t tell him that though, he’d try and contradict you.
“Stop screaming, my head hurts.” You looked down, your good arms scratching at your side as you tried to think of something to say.
“I just sat there for 2 hours trying to save your life. I wouldn’t of needed to if you would of just followed protocol.”
“Sorry I inconvenienced you. Next time just leave me to die.” You didn’t mean that obviously, in fact you didn’t even expect that to come out your mouth nor did he apparently because he paused for a second, staring at you.
“The whole point of this is for you to live. I cannot fucking lose you, (Y/N).” His voice was low but just above a whisper. He was vulnerable, something so rare you barely saw in him. But the second your head shot up at his comment his eyes went dark again. “And I’d appreciate it if you make that a little easier.”
“I’m sorry.” You whispered, looking down in whatever you were feeling right now. You didn’t know if it was shame or embarrassment, or even maybe hurt. He meant the world to you too, and if the roles were switched you’d have reacted the same. “You’re right I should of called it in.”
You looked up at him from your seat, both of you staring at each other silently before he moved to sit beside you. Your head fell onto his shoulder almost immediately, eyes closing as his scent, with a tinge of blood, filled your nose.
“Don’t do that again.”
You nodded against his shoulder, cuddling as close to him as your body would go. Now the silence was bearable, a comfortable blanket of safety until he spoke up again.
“What does Salem mean, then?”
You shrugged; “Nothing, I thought it sounded cool to be honest.”
His shoulders vibrates in a chuckle. You both knew Soap wouldn’t believe you, but it was what it was.
“Rest for a bit. Soap will be here soon and air-evac tomorrow. The rain is too heavy for it to come now.”
You body was in a state of exhaustion already, so it took mere minutes for you to doze off again. Ghost just sat there, listening to you breathe silently and waited for Johnny to return. You took a mental note to apologise to Soap for leaving him alone because of your stupidity. But that was later, because righty now you just wanted to sleep, and where would you feel safer other than Simons arms?
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THE END
THE SUCKS MY BAD BUT THIS MAN >>
He is bbygrl
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lanadelnegan · 8 months
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Ooh girl! Loving your work! I had an idea of a smutty fic with JDM himself. Maybe something with him being scared of showing his jealous side because the reader is his younger girlfriend but can’t help it when a man flirts with her
THANK U THANK U. A jealous JDM? I can do that hehe.
Jealousy, Jealousy
Jeffrey Dean Morgan x Reader
Warnings: smut, 18+, NSFW, semi-public sex, car sex (riding), a jealous, possessive jdm, age-gap relationship
A/n: I didn’t even mean for this to turn into such daddy-kink, but it did towards the end. So I hope you’re into that. 🥵
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"Can I buy you a drink?" A younger, blonde man smirks next to me.
"Oh, no. I'm good. Thanks though."
"Come on. I insist." Before I can reject him, he plants himself in the stool next to me before motioning to the bartender.
"Um, I -"
"Excuse me, you mind grabbing this pretty lady here another.. On me." He asks the bartender before smiling at me again.
"Names Drew." He tilts his head back swallowing his drink.
"Drew, I'm.. here with someone."
"Nice to meet you, here with someone." He says jokingly as if that's my name but I ignore his lame attempt.
"Look baby, if you are here with someone, where is he?" His head tilts to the side at me and I raise my eyebrows, clearing my throat as I look past him at the much taller man standing behind him.
The bartender places the drink in front of me as soon as Drew turns and notices Jeffrey standing behind him.
"Wow, thanks for the drink man." Jeffrey's large hand grabs Drew's shoulder roughly and I watch his fingers squeeze until the veins on his hands become even more visible.
Drew visibly cringes in pain at the touch and watches Jeffrey finish the drink he ordered me in two gulps.
"I'm more of a whiskey guy, though." Jeffrey smiles at him arrogantly, wiping the corner of his mouth before slamming the glass down on the bar. Drew tries his best to put on the tough guy act but I can see the fear behind his eyes.
"Sorry man, she didn't say she was here with her dad." He glares at Jeffrey.
I make a "yikes" face, showing my teeth and shaking my head. Poor Drew, this isn't gonna end well for him.
Jeffrey chuckles in his face, keeping eye contact with him, and my legs clench a little watching his "Negan" side come out.
We've only been dating for a couple months now, and while I'm sure our age-gap is strange to other people, Jeffrey and I couldn't be happier. I've always dated men my age, but men in their young 20's don't know how to treat a woman. Jeffrey is so good to me.. in every way imaginable.
I've never seen this protective, jealous side of him.. but I think I like it.
"Daddy.." I interrupt. "why won't this weirdo leave us alone?" I talk in a baby voice to Jeffrey, mocking Drew for calling him my dad.
"Wait.. I.. I know you. You play that asshole in the walking dead... Can't fucking stand him." Drew huffs at him.
"Y/n, baby, go wait for me in the car." Jeffrey demands.
Before I go to leave, I stand on my tippy toes and kiss Jeffrey's cheek slowly, glancing at Drew who looks like smoke could come out of his ears any second. Freak.
"That's fucking gross, you know that right?" Drew calls after me as I walk away. "He could be your grandpa! Bet he can't even get it up."
Before I can open the door to leave, I hear a loud bang from behind me. I turn to see Jeffrey's hand bring Drew's blonde head up from the bar top he just slammed it against. "Dude you just broke my fucking nose! Drew wipes the blood from his face.
"Babe, stop!" I call out.
Jeffrey glances at me, still firmly gripping the back of Drew's hair.
"You're lucky my girls watching, or I'd break more than that." He grits out next to his ear.
I've never seen him make that face.. and it does something to me. He looks so hot and.. unhinged.
"Car. NOW." Jeffrey says in my direction as he tosses the blonde man on the ground. He grabs his leather jacket and follows me to the car. We both get in, staying silent for a moment as I try to register what happened.
He sighs, dropping his head and gripping his knuckles around the steering wheel. "Baby, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have act-"
Before he can finish, I'm climbing on top of him like a dog in heat, slamming my lips against his while lifting my black dress until it's bunched around my waist., revealing my red thong. The seat is pushed far enough back to allow me room to comfortably sit in his lip. His mouth parts open and my tongue swipes across his. Fuck, his mouth tastes so good.
I bite his bottom lip when I pull away, letting my fingers tangle through his salt and pepper hair. His hands firmly grab my ass as I grind myself desperately against him. I'm so wet I'm pretty sure he'll have a spot on his jeans. I take his semi-hard cock out of his black jeans and stroke it twice before he's solid in my hand.
The best thing about being with an older man? The size of his cock and the way he knows how to use it. It's big enough to where the tip reaches just above his belly button as it stands against him and my mouth waters at the sight. I lift myself up, wasting no time due to my throbbing pussy needing him so badly, and gently slide down his length. His head drops back slightly as he watches me through lust-filled eyes.
"Fuck, baby. That's it." He talks me through it as I struggle to sit completely with him in me.
I bounce on him while he guides me up and down, squeezing my ass. He looks up at me as I start to slow down, grinding against his cock repeatedly as it hits the right spot.
“You look so fucking good riding me, baby.”
His window is cracked open a few inches and we’re parked right outside the front of the bar. The thought of getting caught makes me hotter as I moan and bite at his ear.
Just as I’m about to come, I hear the bells of the bar doors ring and look to the side, seeing Drew walk out. His nose is bandaged, so someone must have helped him out.
“We’ve got company, doll. You wanna tell him who you belong to?” Jeffrey slams me down onto his cock so hard that my vision clouds and I feel my orgasm rush through me. My mouth falls open just as I look to the side and see Drew walking past the car.
“Daddyyy!” I moan loudly, getting Drew’s attention. He looks at me disgustedly and shakes his head. I watch him angrily get in his car and drive away and smile to myself.
“Fuck. Daddy.. I’m gonna cum.” I cry out.
“Soak my fucking cock baby. Give it to me.”
I cry out louder as my walls contract around him. He kisses me hard and looks into my eyes.
“Fuck, doll. I love you.”
I stare at him wide eyed and can’t believe he just said it. I’ve known I love him since the first week we met, but I wanted him to say it first.
“I love you too, Jeffrey... I.. I want you to cum in me.” I kiss him lips softly this time and I slowly slide myself up and down on him.
He smiles up at me. “Yea? You want daddy’s cum in you, baby?”
I nod and bounce on him faster.
“Cum in my pussy, daddy. Please!”
“Baby, fuck. Fuck. Ahhh.” He moans and his dick pulses, shooting strings of hot cum deep inside me.
I stay on top of him, kissing him as he comes down from his high. His seed leaks out while his cock is still in me and I feel it run down my legs.
“I need strange men to hit on me more often.” I breathe heavily, teasing him.
“Funny, doll.” A loud smack lands on my ass. “I promise they won’t fuck like you like daddy does.”
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plussizeficchick · 7 months
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Okay so I think as an alpha, it’s hard to get Tamaki angry, but once he does, he goes feral.
Like normally, he has exceptional control over his instincts. He’s not as territorial as others, but there is one thing that can send him into a frenzy.
And that was someone threatening his claim.
You almost felt bad for the poor excuse of an alpha that tried his luck with you. But you’d warned him. You’d been polite, informing him you weren’t interested and were already claimed, but he insisted, was certain he could be a better alpha than the one that would dare let you out of his sight.
You figured since he wasn’t taking a hint that your best bet would be to be direct, harsh even, but it seemed bruising his ego only seemed to stoke his flame.
He didn’t seem to notice your scent changing, the smell of frankincense overpowering your usual scent of lilies and patchouli. And he definitely didn’t notice your alpha stalking over to you guys, too focused on trying to get you home with him.
The alpha doesn’t realize what’s happened until he feels the warm gush of blood running from his nose and the harsh pavement under the palm of his hands. He reaches up to assess the damage before letting out a hiss at the searing pain that shoots to his face.
Yep, definitely broken.
He grits his teeth and looks up at the fucker that dared to hit him, but isn’t prepared to come face to face with Pro Hero Suneater.
“What the fuck, do you think you’re doing to my mate?” Tamaki grits out, eyes lit with hatred for the alpha in front of him. Normally, he’s a talker. He hates when situations escalate to violence, but this guy knew what he was doing, your claiming mark clear as day.
“Hey man, I-I didn’t know-” He tries to stammer but Tamaki is quick to shut that down. “But you did, I heard her say it. Multiple times.” He blankly stares at the guy before hauling him up by his collar. “So here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to leave with the shred of dignity you have left, and if I find that you’re harassing omegas again, you’re going to be left with more than a fucked face. Do I make myself clear?” The man’s head nearly flies off the way he nods in affirmation and Tamaki drops him where he stands.
He’s immediately on you, checking you to ensure there’s not a scratch on you before he guides you out of the park.
— —
You’re aware of how Tamaki gets after a huge display of dominance. He’s still pumped up on adrenaline and needs a way to release the frustration before becoming a recluse.
It's one of the rare times in which he loses complete composure.
As soon as you’re both through the threshold he’s hoisting you up, your thick thighs wrapping around his waist to pull him further into you.
He’s mouthing at your neck, tongue laving over your claiming mark before he kisses his way to your lips, licking into your mouth. You moan against him, his clothed cock pressing against your cunt through your panties. You feel slick pool between your legs, soaking the fabric. “Please, Tama.” You whine. He offers you a bit of relief when he reaches a hand down and rips your underwear off. “Don’t worry bunny, I’ve got you.” He murmurs into your mouth. He can hardly wait, opting to just haphazardly pull down his sweats and boxers. He jerks himself off really quick, moaning at the feeling before pushing into you.
You both groan at the feeling, Tamaki trying to quell his whimpers by gnawing at your claiming mark. You whimper as he bites the sensitive skin, cunt clenching around him.
You jerk in his arms, your orgasm already fast approaching even though it feels he’s just getting started. “Fuck, bunny. So wet f’me. Am I making you feel good?” He murmurs, big indigo eyes looking up at you. Even through spats of dominance, glimpses of your Tamaki shine through. You nod at his words, tears beginning to build in your lash line, “Yeah, gonna cum f’ you, Tama. Gonna-” The words escape you as your orgasm washes over you, mouth open in a silent scream. He works you through it, reaching a hand down to rub your clit and nibbling around your claiming mark. He slowly pulls out, easing you down as you relax. He pulls his hand from you before putting his fingers into his mouth, groaning at the taste of your combined flavor.
“You always taste so good for me, bunny.” He presses a sweet kiss to your lips. You look up at him with a dopey smile before you feel what seems like suction cups on your thighs. You look to see Tamaki’s fingers have turned into tentacles before looking back at him.
“Mind if I have more?”
— —
Taglist: @xogabbiexo @kinq-sleazee @dabilovesme @sintiva @blkchxrryblyss @tenyaiidasslut @luna-indigoduh @bookwormsenpai @bl--ankhaeji @thicksimpx @namjoonswifeyy @nasty-quillz @haikyutiehoe @musicisme333 @unsatisfiedanddisappointed @celi-xxmoon
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lex-the-flex · 9 months
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In Front of You
Leon S. Kennedy x reader
Summary: Caught in the middle of the crossfire, you are ready to do anything for your team – especially for the man who cares for you the most.
Word Count: 1.5k
Warning(s): MEGA FLUFF, (make-out session) descriptions of injuries, talks of virus and needles, sensations of pain, cursing, action and violence, and character death.
A/N: I can’t believe I haven’t written anything for Leon since Death Island came out! I ADORED that movie and everyone in it!
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Tip-toeing through the dark and damp hallways, you could practically hear the pounding rhythm of your heartbeat in your ears. Guiding your flashlight along the isolated cell blocks, everything seems still and quiet. Preparing to turn the corner, the panicked sounds of your team – your friends fill the empty halls, and you sprint like your life depended on it.
Catching up to Jill and Leon, you find them crouched in front of a set of dimly lit cells where both Claire and Chris Redfield are being held.
"Leon? Jill!" You call out, shining your light toward them.
Joining your team members at the cells, you grip the thick iron bars, and gaze at the sudden withered state of the siblings.
"Oh my God, you guys are so pale." Jill says, shifting her gaze from Chris to Claire.
Reaching through the bars, you work quickly to feel Chris' forehead, only to discover that he, like Claire is significantly hotter than a sunburn.
"And you're burning up so fast." You state, rushing to Claire's side in the separate cell.
"Hurry, get us out of here!" A third man shouts in the dark. begging for one of you to open the door.
Realizing that this man isn't infected, Leon clocks in on who he is within seconds.
"Son of a bitch, Antonio Taylor." He announces with a hint of annoyance.
"What are you talking about?" Claire questions in between staggered breaths, trying to remain calm.
"This scumbag's wanted for leaking national secrets to the enemies of the U.S. of A. Y/N and I were supposed to bring him in for questioning." Leon explains, glancing down at you as you tend to Claire.
Suddenly, the prison lights come on, and both Leon and Jill aim their guns in any direction they can. Removing your pistol from your holster, you sink back over to Chris to re-check his temperature.
"Welcome to Alcatraz. It's an honor to have you all here, together. Please, allow me to introduce myself. I'm Dylan Blake." The mad man known as Dylan begins explaining from an upper row of cells joined by none other than Maria Gómez.
Standing from your position on the floor, you aim for Maria, as the feeling of some unresolved revenge starts to creep up your spine.
"I bet you're how people are being infected without being bitten. The answer is simple: my prototype bio-drones." Dylan finishes, crossing his arms.
From the corner of your eye, the faintest buzzing noise whips past your face, and heads straight for Leon. Acting on your feet, you shove Leon out of the way, and a sharp, stinging pain erupts on the side of your neck, and you drop your pistol.
Landing on your side, the flashlights beam illuminates the shiny style of Maria's slick greyish and purple jumpsuit just as she jumps down from the upper cell block.
"Well, that was... unexpected. It's very brave of you, Miss L/N to put your life on the line for someone you love." Dylan mocks you, leaning forward on his cane.
Leaning over your shivering physique, a cruel smirk fills Maria's dark lips as you writhe on the cement floor. Aiming your pistol at the woman, Maria kicks you into the bars, causing you to scream. Silently wincing, both Chris and Claire feel your pain with you while they listen to your gasping for air.
“Y/N, don't. Save your strength!” Chris weakly calls out, forcing himself to sit up from his spot on the wall.
Groaning in pain, even your teeth ache as you lean against the bars, hoping for any kind of relief.
"I get it now. All this tech, even the virus, you got it all from Arias. That's why she's here, isn't it?" Leon asks, turning to Maria.
"Of course, Mr. Kennedy. I thought that after you murdered poor Maria’s father, that I’d settle the score. For both of us. It’s rather fitting, don’t you think? To see the woman you love be torn apart in front of your eyes, just as she once witnessed with you.” Dylan interprets, hinting at his own years of research.
“Fuck you, Blake! You don’t get to decide the course of our lives!” You shout in retaliation to no avail.
Leaving Jill with a warning, Dylan leaves the vast hallways of cell blocks, allowing Maria to finally get her hands dirty. Moving to protect you, Leon throws a flash bang, allowing Jill to make her quick escape to the armory.
*****
"Why'd you do that Y/N? That drone was meant for me, sweetheart." Leon asks, crouching down to your level.
Taking your face in his hands, a faint laugh leaves your chapped lips.
"I told you I'd owe you one. You took the Plaga for me, remember? So I did what I thought was right; finally paying off the debt." You explain through a series of whimpers.
"Oh, honey. That was eleven years ago. I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for you." Leon replies, gently stroking your cheek.
"He's right, Y/N. Then the Graham's wouldn't be safe. You and Leon could've died if it wasn't for your actions. You were fast, and both of you kept Ashley safe." Chris explains, making the long weight rise off of your chest.
"Yeah, we did our job. It may not be the best life, but our life. All of our lives." Leon announces, looking around to his friends and Taylor.
Taking your hand in his, you sit up against the bars, and sweat starts to pool on your forehead.
"I love you." Leon whispers before you, and a single tear drips from your e/c orb.
Shortly after his declaration, Rebecca arrives with a case of fresh vaccines. Injecting you with the medicine, Leon helps you to your feet, where the two of you prepare to face a bigger threat.
*****
Making your way to the control room, you and Leon observe the water starting to rise in the armory.
"Why's he letting all the water in?" Leon asks.
"I don't know. Maybe for the drones?" You reply, leaning against the monitors.
"You okay?" He asks, hovering his hand above your shoulder.
"Yeah, this stuff works wonders. You should try it." You joke with a smile.
"I'll take your word for it." Leon responds with a smirk.
Glancing behind his shoulder, your miniscule peaceful moment is interrupted by the sound of heels entering the room.
"I'm glad the virus didn't kill you both. I wanted to be the one to do it." Maria announces, standing firm on the stairs below.
"You don't always get what you want. Trust me." Leon projects, turning to face Maria.
Smirking, Maria kicks a computer screen from a pillar, and Leon dodges the fast moving object. Jumping for him, Maria punches Leon without any effort, and smashes him against the slanted single row of desks.
"This is for my father!!" Maria yells, lowering a jagged piece of a metal pipe towards Leon's face.
"He was Arias's guard dog. You were his bitch!" Leon retaliates, moving the pipe away from his face.
Feeling your strength return, you throw yourself into Maria's body, catching her with both of your arms. Colliding with her into a glass drawing board, your legs hit the small stair rail, forcing you to roll into your landing.
Struggling to your feet, Leon equips his Sentinel 9 and fires a few rounds at Maria, to which she dodges with a fierce kick to a desk chair. Launching herself towards Leon, Maria wraps her body around his bulletproof suit, and tries anything to disarm him.
Slamming Leon to the ground, Maria holds him in a headlock, desperate to take her revenge, but not before you finally shoot her in the left shoulder. Releasing Leon from her grip, she turns to face you with nothing but rage filling her eyes.
"You've been nothing but a thorn in my side! I've thought about nothing else but snapping that pretty neck of yours for over a year!" Maria shouts, pacing towards you.
"Yeah well, you're gonna have to try a lot harder than that!" You protest, shooting at Maria once more.
Working together, you and Leon quickly overpower Maria whilst as your stamina returns to your form. Taking a few more punches, Leon decides that enough is enough, and he kicks Maria out of sight. Crawling to you, Leon offers his reassuring touch to your back, until a worried expression fills your face.
Witnessing the sight of Maria being impaled by one of the glass board stands, she slowly walks from the metal stand, freeing herself. Standing to protect you, Leon pumps his arms one final time, but instead of making one last move, Maria falls to the ground; dead.
Standing in the room, a series of gasps and pants leave your lips, as the two of you try to cool down from the whole encounter. However, Leon rushes towards you and clasps his hands around your face. Frantically pressing his pink lips on yours, he moves at an ungodly pace, capturing your taste in his mouth.
A low growl escapes his chest as he backs up into an unbroken pillar and he moves his lips down to your neck, preparing to leave a mark, reminding everyone who you belonged to.
re taglist ~
@dreamliners
@iraot
@beautifuljellyfishqueen
@balach-cadalach
@fetaneecole
@odaschopsticks
@tiredsurvivoronmain
@thecodeisveronica
@andyacklesspn
@kanzukikarin
@cloudybakery
@swimninhoney
@ashiemochi
@kennedysharper
@highball66
@onewinged-sephiroth
@scariusaquarius
@blossom-of-feathers
@cilantro422
@shions-new-blog-of-stuff
@thatdummy-girl
@acupnoodle
@rpd-rookie
@oreo-leon
@xxresi-rotxx
@ashrillvenheim
@knifefightandchill
@tradgothprompto
@the-resident-vampire
@brittlecakes92
@mnjxs
@rebidemp-ebil
@chirikalovesjill
@paleepeaches
@dargoww
@leonwifey 
@arzublogworld
@ec1ips3
@dreamingchocochan
@mothxmoons
@josieinwonderland
@winksasleeplesseye
@jl-micasea-fics
@thatgoblin
@venchai
@decath3ct
@notrattus
@okami-117
@leonsbaby
@kennedyalike
503 notes · View notes
tteokdoroki · 11 months
Note
no cus isagi being slightly crazy and saying the most absurd things to the men who approach you is like weirdly attractive…
૮ ͈>◡< ͈ა warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up to 20s, suggestive, sleazy men, manipulation kinda, threats of violence LMAOO, possessive + pro player!isagi, fem!reader.
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god,, it’s so fucking hot…
the idea of isagi always protectively looming over you, always around and a little too close when a guy approaches you. you think it’s normal, that he’s just looking out for you because men can be assholes or gross but really he’s just as outlandish as all the rest — perhaps worse and it’s just never been directed at you.
you’ll be out in public, making googly eyes at a guy who’s ordered the same coffee as you, swearing on your life that you feel some sort of connection like it’s a meet cute or something. but isagi is possessive, telling you he’ll watch your stuff with his sweet smile and big innocent blue eyes when you head to the bathroom one moment and in the next he’s damn near snarling at the guy, saying stuff like “you look at her like that again, and i’ll shove this coffee so far down your throat that you’ll never know what it’s like to breathe again.” he’s so unwell, so unhinged but he can’t stand the thought of someone else having you the way he does.
when you’re out clubbing or celebrating a win with the blue lock team — they’re all probably teasing isagi about keeping an eye on you, wondering who he’ll stop you from going home with tonight and placing their bets on the poor soul that dares to touch you. and it’s not that isagi blames anyone, you’re beautiful and enchanting and the sway of your hips under colourful flashing lights is enough to make a man weak in the knees.
but he still has this innate need to shield you from other guys because you don’t know what they’re like and you need him to protect you. “your hands are a little too low, don’t you think?” isagi all but smiles after sneaking up on the guy you’re dancing with — nausea bubbling in the pit of his stomach from watching you grind on one another. “they fall an inch lower ‘nd i might have to rip them off, yeah?” he breathes out the threats like they’re air, and smiles like he’s said nothing wrong.
and when the poor guy slips away from you out of fear, isagi is quick to replace his warmth behind you. “you probably don’t wanna dance with dudes like that, they’re good for nothing, yanno?” he says softly when you spin around, soothing the flame of disappointment that licks at your heart. but you trust him, isagi has never lead you astray and has done all he can to protect your beating heart — he’s always been a little too good to you. “i don’t want you to get hurt.”
it’s fascinating how charming and kind isagi is around you, but when it comes to the men that show up to your doorstep with roses and good intentions — he becomes off putting, unpleasant and scary. he wouldn’t be able to count on one hand how many potential dates he’s had to tell to “fuck off.” or “back off.” before he threatens them with a whirlwind of pain and hospital bills.
though, all of it is worth it, for the way you curl into him and offer yoichi up the pieces of your precious broken heart, stroking his ego without even knowing ( you drunkenly tell him “i wish you would date me ‘ichi, you’re a good guy…” ). and he is, he’s good for you, perfect even — but nice guys don’t take advantage of girls that cry their hearts out.
he’ll wait a few more days to make you his, only then will all of isagi’s efforts have paid off.
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eldritch-spouse · 4 months
Note
Now I want something. I want admin to spank Morell.
I know a regular piglet wouldn't even make him flinch BUT ADMIN, Admin is enhanced with Krulu's strength. So Admin could make Morell moan for sure.
[Fem reader.]
TW: Dubious consent to no consent; Abusive spanking; Blood; Humiliation; Physical and mental abuse.
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You're not sure why your Lord approved of this idea so readily.
You wouldn't even call it a proper punishment plan for Morell's latest minor infraction, it was more of a vaguely intrusive thought that surfaced in your mind. To bend the large, proud monster over your knee and have him lose some of that attitude.
Krulu immediately gave you the greenlight to do it, with some manner of glee even, somewhere between genuine anticipation and humor.
You've come to learn your higher seems to sometimes prefer humiliating punishments over the physically painful ones. It leaves a much bigger imprint on the soul than the marring of flesh, he tells you.
Who are you to question his absolute wisdom?
Besides, it'd be lying to say that you aren't looking forward to Morell's reaction. For as rowdy and assertive as he can be with his coworkers, the chef has always had immense respect for you, being one of the first to pipe down and get in line with new directives or goals. It's something you admire in him.
So, surely, he's not going to flip out now is he?
The kitchen is quiet. Sterilized even. You had the bobbles take care of it before leaving. Part of you considered doing this in the warehouse, in front of the pigs he'll have to look in the eyes when the time to slaughter them comes. But that's already too much sadism for a slap on the wrist measure, isn't it?
No. You'll do it in the kitchen, a much more intimate environment.
Sitting on one of the restaurant chairs you dragged inside, you're roughly in the center of the large room itself, next to the main chopping block, legs crossed. Sharpened eyes study the previous work of the bobbles under Morell's hold. His training is efficient, you'll give him that.
It's taking him a while to come back in. Fact of the matter is he's not even in this floor, most likely. That's part of the problem, how often he's leaving the restaurant for extended periods of time. A frown slowly graces your features, nails tapping rhythmically on the iron legs of the chair. Tsk tsk.
You're considering additional punishment methods for his extended work post abandonment when the telltale squeak of boots on tiles hits your ears. He's in a hurry.
The kitchen doors blast open, Morell puffs with physical exertion and looks scratched in several areas, bits of... Gravel? Rock? Cling to his arms and apron, which he dusts off rapidly, opening his mouth to presumably start barking orders at his team of workers, except- He finally gathers enough wit to notice his actual surroundings.
Squinting, frowning, then finally spotting you. There's a short, vapid blink before he reacts.
" M- Admin, miss! " The shroom greets, nodding respectably before quickly closing the doors behind his large figure.
The monster looks aggravated, guilty. He obviously knows you'd never like seeing him deviating during work hours. You're willing to bet he's gulping behind that thick pink scarf. Morell scratches at his forearm and impulsively keeps dusting himself off, waiting. " Can I get'cha anythin' ta eat? "
" Morell. " You smile, sarcasm all but dripping off your words. " Pleasure seeing you here, for once. "
The mushrooms monster's hands rise immediately in a sort of placation attempt almost unbecoming of his large stature. " Ah know- I know it looks bad, miss, but it ain't like ah'm leavin' the floor ta screw 'round- "
" Did I ask for excuses? " You cut in.
Morell pipes down instantly. " No ma'am, ah'm sorry. "
And this is why he stands out to you. His obedience to authority figures. Morell has always been the kind of monster man who doesn't just bend for others at a whim. He's a stubborn bull of a guy, and all that's missing are the horns to furnish him. When with his coworkers, the shroom is rough and brutish, shooting them down the moment they attempt to mess with him, getting loud, in their faces, threatening them whenever they think they know better. When you first hired the chef, you wee already counting on having to use a sterner hand to keep him in line, and yet, since the very first day, he's regarded you with a courtesy and level of respect that's almost strikingly out of character compared to other sides of him.
Krulu shared this initial wonder too, finding it amusing that the shroom adapted extremely quickly to the roles he should play before you and your Lord. He knows better than to oppose you, sides with you, is very cooperative and available. Commendable qualities.
" I've always liked that about you. "
" ... Beg pardon? "
" How polite you are, without even having to be taught better. " Something you can't say for all.
In spite of the flattery, the chef doesn't relax. " Thank you, ma'am. "
Funnily enough, his accent sometimes takes a backseat in these moments too. Maybe because he's trying to speak like you? You could pick him apart all day, honestly.
" I don't want your apologies, I want you to know your punishment. "
He looks like he wants to desperately say something. Explain the situation, say that he's not at fault, that it can't be helped. You have an inkling of an idea of what might be wrong, more gargoyle shenanigans. Morell looks into your challenging hues and nods, bitterly swallowing any words. Fear flashes briefly in that dark canvas of a face.
It's not often he misbehaves enough to warrant punishments. The most he tends to get is a slap on the wrist for playing too much with the slaughter piglets.
" Of course, ma'am... "
Good boy.
" You're having issues dealing with the gargoyles again. "
Morell nods, hands over his chest and fingers tapping his elbows, the subject very quickly drawing a furious grimace from him.
" They're breaking in and taking meats, finished orders, body parts, sometimes even bobbles. "
Another nod.
" I would be angry too. But you know what I wouldn't do, Morell? Take it upon myself to go out there and hunt them down, when there's already someone who can do that, employed in these very grounds. "
The tapping turns into a tight grip.
" Why not come to Belo about this? A power such as him, who has wings to pursue them with flight, who holds a weapon capable of obliterating them with little effort, whose job is precisely to maintain order here. "
" Buh-! "
" Hush. " Your warning is heeded. " Don't step outside your role, Morell. Perhaps you have the strength to take one or two down, but your effectiveness lies here, in the restaurant. That- " You motion past the kitchen doors. " Does not concern you. "
He sighs quietly, rolling his shoulders. " You're right, ma'am. "
" Good. I'm glad we could get on the same page. " You grin, uncrossing your legs and patting a stocking clad thigh. " Now, for your punishment this time, I want you to bend over my knees. "
Oh. This is precious.
At first, the cook makes a face like he's certain he didn't really hear right, giving himself a few seconds to see if he can decipher what you really must have said. And then, slowly, it starts to sink in, the realization isn't the only thing that sinks however, that expression falling into a somber and wide-eyed look, questioning you. Wounded even.
And hat's how you know it's going to be effective.
" Ah... Come again? "
Oh, the hopelessness.
" You heard me, Morell. " There's no doubt he did.
Another few stunted seconds pass where he seems to be mourning his dignity, presumably. Your eyes glint with cruel anticipation.
" ... Do I hav'ta, miss? "
So polite. Adorable, even. He's smart enough to understand he doesn't really have a choice, somewhere between bargaining and pleading.
Suffocating the urge to giggle and kick your legs, you offer Morell an almost mocking solemn nod, as if it pained you too to be doing this. An open palm claps gently in your thigh, hurrying him.
The chef's face scrunches again, and if the skin directly under his cap weren't so dark, you would probably be able to spot the stress creases forming on his forehead. He shuts his eyes and takes a silent deep breath, reaching back to undo his apron. Morell takes his sweet time getting ready, and because he's been obedient thus far, you allow him those precious moments of peace. The desperation is such so that he even takes the time to fold his dirtied butcher's apron.
Finally, wearing only pants and boots, the monster stands before you, defeated before you've laid but a single finger upon him. Brilliant work.
" Knee. " You insist.
Slightly luminescent eyes scroll from his own massive figure to your much smaller one. " Ma'am... Ain't it gonna hurt? "
He knows better. He's seen better. The force and resilience bestowed upon you by your Lord knows hardly a limit. Morell could throw himself onto you, where as a normal human's bones would creak and shatter, you'd merely wonder how to best castigate him.
" I don't stutter, Morell. "
Boy, does that get him moving.
Somewhat awkwardly, the cook sinks to his knees. If his peculiar skin allowed it, you know he'd be covered in goosebumps when he angles himself across your legs. A tremor wracks his body, though you're quick to lower a hand on his broad back, encouraging the shroom to let his weight settle on your thighs.
A few seconds pass in that stillness. That delicious silence, the walls dripping anticipation and Morell radiating a level of mortification that has the spectator behind your eyes grinning with glee.
And then, as if gouging the right moment to lunge, you yank his pants and underwear down. The way Morell jumps could almost be compared to a frightened cat's leap, a tremor followed by this choked noise of embarrassment that all his coworkers would surely mock him over for eternity. The chef's rump perfectly fits his worked physique, yet there's an unmistakable softness there, an appealing shape, something Santi has openly admired before- To his own detriment, as such was quickly followed by a wooden spoon to the top of his head.
It's a nice ass, you'll admit. Shame he doesn't let anyone touch it.
Snickering at his panic, you soothingly rub a hand over his backside, feeling the give of his bizarre anatomy. Shroom monsters don't have the same type of skeletal structure humans do, their bodies are spongier in nature, yet by no means does that mean they're less sturdy. Humming peacefully, you take the time to squeeze over the spots that cover his blue hide, fondling the grown monster currently surrendered to you in thought.
Your forearm begins to sprout blackened veins, lovingly possessive growths that curl over your limb and encompass it, appropriate it. In a matter of seconds, Lord Krulu has transformed your hand into one of his, dark and deftly long fingers furnished with the claws of an apex predator. You raise it in the air with nothing but pride and adoration.
And oh, if Morell had any hope that your spankings would be tame, then it'd be a compliment to call him a fool.
Because when that same hand crashes down, the muted force of your god thunders across his entire body.
And he squeals.
Nicely done.
Both of you freeze. Your hand doesn't sting minimally, but the imprint immediately left on Morell's asscheek is a testament to the level of strength that was so effortlessly doled out.
No one moves for a second, the shock of that bizarre bleat being processed. You'd never guess a sizable monster like Morell could make such a noise, like a confused animal in pain.
The grin that crawls up your cheeks is sickening.
" What was that, Mori? Did one of your pigs escape? "
He's panting, quietly, but not subtly enough to miss.
" ... No. "
" No? "
" N-No miss. "
You snicker. " Alright, must have been my imagination. "
A tune is hummed serenely when your hand rises off his already overheated flesh, and the way the chef sucks in a desperate lungful of air is as riveting as it gets. But like Hell you'll give him the privilege of certainty, lowering said palm again with a deceitful gentleness, petting him, resting.
The next whack has spittle flying past grit teeth. He muffles part of the humiliating noise, at the cost of drooling on himself like a beast. Morell shivers atop you like a stuttering car engine. Krulu laughs.
" Honestly, I'm almost sad to be bruising a rump this pretty, Morell... " You muse, watching his cerulean hue steadily bleed into navy bruises that muddle his naturally glowing spots. " But it does make for an interesting sight. "
He stays quiet, and, in retaliation, you let that very same hand wander a little. Krulu's features recede to allow your human softness to brush over his skin, moving between the chef's legs. Instantly, there's a sudden tension in his entire body, more so than when he feared the spanking, and although you only teasingly feather over his asshole, Morell squirms in endless discomfort as if you had stuck pins and needles on him. Pressure against his perineum rips a grunt out of him, though reaching past the butcher's balls reveals the expected, he's entirely limp.
Something easily fixed.
" Part your legs a little. "
The shroom monster gulps, voice only a tad hoarse. " Admin, miss... "
Be it with the sharpest claws or bluntest nails, most men don't enjoy having their family jewels crushed. " Part. Your. Legs. "
He does, arms flexing in suffering until you relent. You don't need to warn him not to make you repeat yourself again. His reward is a much softer grasp around his manhood. And, with no pain to distract him, it's easy to get Morell to twitch in response, even if his fear is still palpable.
You stroke him until he hardens in your hand, something easy to achieve considering this sick fuck loves making his terrified little piggies worship his cock before he guts them into a dish. There's nothing like a human's touch to many of the workers here, and he's no exception. You can't help lick your lips when he starts silently rocking the slightest amount into your motions, soft sighs leaving his slowly relaxing form. Goading him further into this state of mindless pleasure, you offer him slightly faster friction, until he's properly bucking into your hand, ruffling groans of enjoyment.
He could never have spotted the spare arm sprouting from your back, could never see its dark length extend in the air-
Before it slammed down with enough force to rattle the skeleton out of anyone.
" HHHRK- "
You laugh, loud and jovial, this childish cackle ringing through the kitchen at your Master's impatient and cruel swat. Poor little Morell jolts and groans openly, the growing wave of pleasure interrupted and now intermingled with shock. His confused mind struggles to process the difference between pleasure and pain, lumping both together in a way that has him throbbing.
He seems to still at his own body's response.
Perfection.
You don't cease pumping his cock when the third arm lifts again, forcing the chef to experience both extremes of sensation when he's spanked again. He spasms uselessly, you bet his eyes are bulging by now.
Time to force him to think.
Whack
" What area of The Clergy's Eye have you been assigned to? "
" Tha- Kitchen! " He struggles, huffing.
Whack
" Where shall you stay when working then? "
More confused twitching in your hand. " Kh- Kitchen! "
SMACK
" Are you going to leave it again to do things that don't concern your station? "
" NnNO! "
The pace of your hand quickens, yet so does the your Master's rightful penance. Morell's bruised, indigo-tinted behind starts blooming into shades of abused purple. Tattoos of Krulu's divine hand furnish it nicely. You have no doubt this monster will sleep on his stomach for the following week.
Thwack thwack THWACK
" Will I have to do this again, Morell? "
He sobs, a real ugly sob that he quickly tries to suck back in, making you swiftly lean down to spot... Ah, the first few tears falling on the tiles. Good.
" No- No please- " And yet he still leaks precum like a faucet. What's going through that head right now?
Pleasure, pain, fear, regret, shame that reaches the skies.
Your Lord generously offers.
" You learn fast, I'm sure I won't have to discipline you again, right? "
The chef shakes like a leaf, yet there's no denying he's close to orgasm. His legs flex from more than just pain now. " Y- Yes, ma'am! "
CRACK
" Though I'd say you're enjoying it if I didn't know better. "
He makes a sound somewhere between a whine and a blubbered wail. " No- 'M not, please- " It's the most pathetic thing you've ever heard coming from him.
" Mhm, okay then, I believe you. "
The next set of unrelenting spanks makes even you cringe, Krulu's force jostling not just the fully grown monster but yourself as well. It's actually a little exciting to witness. Spots where Krulu's claws intentionally caught onto the tender flesh turn into depraved welts, droplets of blood flying out with each merciless motion, spraying the snow-tiled ground and even yourself.
Morell screams, wails, shrieks like his arms are getting ripped out their sockets. It's a symphony of panicking pain that hardly lets him breathe in between each tormenting snap and quick pump. He makes the mistake of sucking too much air into his lungs at a time, then starts coughing and hiccupping hopelessly.
The moment your Lord halts is when your fervent motions take the stage, and Morell, tortured, oversensitive and disoriented, lasts less than five seconds before throbbing hard and shooting ropes all over your fingers. You pump his cock throughout the entire orgasm, milking it, making a mess that you then wipe on the inside of his thigh, letting his cum-soaked length rest.
Another pause stretches for a long few moments where everyone is winding down. And, as adrenaline seeps out the mushroom monster's pores, he breaks.
Totally limp upon you, Morell attempts to fruitlessly hide his face behind broad arms while his sniffling and gasping escalates into the most defeated, utterly humiliated sobbing there is. He struggles with breathing properly, scratching his own throat as tears splatter steadily on the ground, keening whines bubbling out of the still shaking man. In his despair, he tries to huddle closer to you, tries to fold himself into a ball even with your legs in the way.
You don't know if it's your Lord's enjoyment or your own, but the view sends a pulse of arousal straight up your cunt, cheeks heating.
" There there... " You murmur, rubbing a comparatively cool hand around the edges of his punished skin. The way he tenses and tries to push his sobbing behind a tightened jaw is adorable. " It's all over now. "
The trembling doesn't stop, but the butcher manages to quiet his own wailing within a few minutes. Tears still drip onto the ground.
A few taps get him to move off your legs, but Morell quickly finds out changing positions is torturous, sharp burning stings eliciting choked grunts and heaves from the monster. He settles, embarrassingly, for laying almost on his stomach, prostrated before you on the ground.
Grinning, so wet you can feel your panties soaking, you push the chair away and sit on the ground next to the recovering monster, pulling his face onto your lap and petting that large cap of his.
Morell chokes, clinging onto your clothes. You didn't think he'd break this hard, but it's a lovely reaction.
" 'M sorry... 'M-... Sorry... "
And, as you study his sorry state, you can't help but smile warmly. Bruised ass darker than night, blood still spilling, half-hard cum-coated dick out, arms and face wet with tears, grasping onto you for dear life...
You wouldn't mind doing this more often.
133 notes · View notes
Alrightyy saw Challengers for numero uno tonight and these are some thoughts/things that really got me the second time round!
*Thess are just my opinions the film can be read however anyone else wants
Okay so hear me out.. Tashi is such a dom, Art is such a sub and Patrick is such a switch and oooh it got me how at the beginning it felt like he was Arts dom, then he finds this girl he thinks is fantastic and maybe he thinks she could be the glue to bring him and Art and her all together BUT then it totally fricken backfires and instead he loses both. Art the little puppy he is starts wagging his tail in Zendayas direction and next thing ya know he's got a new owner and Patricks a thing of the past much to his palable distress. I mean christ boyos living in his car and starving, boys a mess since his lost his dom and sub poor boyo, so now various things I noticed some of which I feel back up my argument haha
Gosh theres so many little moments, Patricks thing for Art seems so obvious yet Art seems totally clueless.
1) Patrick is defos bi, not just because he just so is but also cause he matches with a guy on his dating app during his swiping.
2) The doubles match they play in the past? Gosh they're all over eachother! And Pats clearly in charge of that relationship and Art seems totally cool with that (for then anyways..)
3) When him and Art are watching Tashis game at the vert beginning Patrick grabs Arts leg in exhilaration. I mean he always seems to be touching or in the space of his boy for christs sake.
4) When Tashi mentions the fact Arts going to Stamford Patrick noticeably makes a face, you could say its because shes paying attention to Art instead of him or that hes upset because shes going to college instead of going profesh BUT I really didnt read it that way. To me it looked like he was upset Art was going to college, they've been together for years after all and now their splitting up, poor boyo.
5) When Zendaya asks if theres anything going on between then, Art laughs and says no BUT Patrick??? Science and he looks down, hell he wishes there was summat.
6) He taught Art to jerk off. Fucking hell.
7) There kiss man, all three of then and then just Art and Pat, just soo much chemistry.
8) When he reveals he slwpt with Zendaya to Art, and Arts smile drops. I think he's heartbroke at him sleeping with the girl he likes but I also see it as pain at being left out. These two people he's entwined with and now he's outside looking in. I also think If Patrick had seen that reaction he'd have seen a looot sooner that his relationship with Tashi might backfire greatly.
9) Patrick vsiting Stamford, first person he goes to see, his girlfriend maybe..? NOPE hes too busy chasing Art around the tennis court 😭
10) There's a ton of hot moments in this film. And the hottest? To me? That bloody stool grab with his foot. He wants Art close, he always bloody does! And the churros christ! And once again showing Art who's top so to speak, eating his churro, and telling him hes proud of his snakey behaviour. And that it makes his relationship with Zendaya hotter (I bloody bet it does) He never ever seems to show jealousy about Arts feelings for Zendaya, he points out thay he doesn't see him as competition to her not long after and I BET his doesn't. Cause I think he'd love it if Art was with him and Zendaya.
11) My God this bit gets be cause it gets echoed later. Him and Zendaya are making out and this girl who he's with and cares about is just talking bout his tennis game. And tbf what does he say?? "Weren't you gonna tell me bout Art" hells bells could you be more obvious?? And then the fight, he asks her if she's talking about tennis and her reply "I'm always talking about tennis" and I mention this cause it's gonna be relevant later.
12) The injury happens and everyone loses something. Zendaya has lost her career and ability to play tennis to her full potential. Art loses his best friend and Poor pathetic Patrick lost his bestfriend(and secret love) and his actual girlfriend all in one day!
From here on I cant guarantee my numbered points are in timeline order as the timline stated getting more out of sequence🤣
13) Zendaya and Art in the diner and after hearing Art and Pat dont talk no more saying she's a homewrecker after all. And what does Art say?? Zip. Nada. No denial just silence.
14) Okay lets talk that sauna scene. It was gloriously tragic. Patrick is clearly unaware why Art is THAT hostile towards him. I mean thinking of it from his point of view he'd have more reason to be angry considering the snakey girlfriend behaviour. But he never is angry at Art, not once no matter what he did. Of course we then discover Art is SO pissed cause he knows about Atlanta. Christ I bet pur stupid idiot boy Patrick thinks hes just being cleverly smug with that "when we were teenagers" line but idiot boyo your rubbing salt in the wounds 😭
15) still about the sauna, the naked trying to be top dog like old times but no no no, not anymore. Arts not his to be in charge of anymore. And the camera shows Art as higher while Patrick slouches nearby. Patrick asks him when he's so mad but doesn't get an answer. This scene was tragic to me, Patrick just seems hurt by Arts attitude. Art points out that they're no longer peers and I love this because thats the difference between the Zendaya/boys relationship and Arts and Pats. Pat may have been the dom so to speak with Art but he still saw them as peers. Zendaya doesn't. Thats the main difference in their relationships. Respect.
16) One of my fave damn parts of dialogue in the movie. (I really can't remember exact phrasing but this is how I rememeber it) Art is so sus of Pat, Pat asks him if he misses it, Art says he doesnt. And when Pat says he wasn't talking about tennis, Art says "Your always talking to me about tennis" and oof the punch to my gut that was. And it seemed to Patricks too! His face, this poor boy has twice been talking to the people he cares about, abou their relationship and they just say their talking about tennis, he cant catch a break😭
17) Pats reaction to Zendaya asking him to throw the game, is he offended for himself? Nopeee he's mad that she'd do that to Art. He says something along the lines of fucking him was one thing but to have Arts victory be a lie?? Gross, too far, too much of a betrayal.
18) For the third time, having just fucked Zendaya in the car and she just immediately brings up him throwing the match, like crimeny man this boy is probs sick of this game getting in the way of his relationships haha
19) Ooh that match point is glorious glorious cinema my friends. Patrick is so interesting in this whole match. Him deliberating on if he's gonna tell Art? So juicy and the way he did was fucking hilarious. That unspoken signal? Beauty.
20) Arts reaction? Wow oh wowww. The lad went through the five fricken stages of grief! The denial "fuck off!" the rage, throwing his racket, the bargaining, looking at Zendaya as if to say its not true (when she has no fucking clue what just happened). The depression, those sad sweaty tears 🥲 and then? That gorgeous smile, that acceptance. I think he felt catharsis, his marraige was clearly dysfunctional at this point and maybe knowing she cheated, knowing she'd threatened to leave if he lost, maybe that helped him let go of it. Ripped off the bandage, turned off life support, finally shake the pedestal he'd put his wife on( he compared her to jesus for christs sake). He made it through to the otherside and Patrick was there waiting for him with open arms ()iterally lol)
21) When Pat sees Arts smile? His own blossoms, clearly in relief and exaltation. I truly think he told him not to throw his game but to spur Art on. To finally unlock his potential. And to get the old Art he knew back and it bloody worked. That final back and forth, the pure energy, those sexual grunts all building up to a crescendo of a climax. Hooo boy
22) That goddamn brilliant leap in the air. Art is freed and flying, and Patrick doesn't hesitate he flings his racket to the floor because the thing that mattered to him most was never tennis. And he catches his boy with arms wide and then that embrace. They have finally come back together. It was beautiful. What does losing the match matter to Pat when he finally has his arms all over Art again just like he did in the beginning. We have come full circle.
Hahaha this is purely my own read into the movie and obvs mostly about the Patrick character and how I saw his actions. Now a few little bonus notes I noticed.
Nearly everything the boys eat/drink seems phallic, hotdogs, bananas, churros, even those drink bottles and cigarettes. Boyos are obsessed!
Zendaya on the rock at the beach was very little mermaid. Also in that scene when she said she wouldn't wanna get between em. Art said they didn't love together but Pat says "It's an open relationship" hecks you too obvious boy.
This movies so chock full of foreshadowing too, the story about Cat who got injured a week later. Patrick at Tashis party saying she'd have deals and a foundation which she does but via her relationship with Art instead just really cool script tbh
(Will probs add more when I remember em/see it for third time cause I am planning on that🤣🤣)
74 notes · View notes
karniss-bg3 · 7 months
Note
Ya bring up a point I’m sure not all monster lovers consider—- turning Kar’niss back being a goal of his would mean sacrificing my love for the freaky and remembering he’s just a guy with needs too. I imagine if there was a WISH spell, given their open-ended nature to do Anything with reality, you’d probably get access to one with only a few options of what to use it for in a limited game context. Probably it’d give you the offer to fix your other companions, or your own lingering plot issues—- could we see some Kar’niss reaction to Tav, after mulling it over (alone or among companions), truly deciding to use the WISH for him and/or let him use it (one of those ‘trust your companion will do the right thing’ moments). Bet they find the spell after robbing Lorroakan or somethin. (Though it’s a Wish Spell—- imagine a man so short sighted as to just wish to be without pain but not change so he can still ‘be of use’. Hopefully he’d have learned better about his worthiness by the time you found a WISH though).
Title: A Wish Come True
Word Count: 3,667
Spoiler Warning: Spoilers for Act 2 and Act 3
Characters: Gale, Astarion, gender-neutral Tav and Kar'niss
Summary: After a hard battle in the sorcerer's tower, Gale uncovers a hidden Wish spell scroll. Kar'niss is now faced with a tough decision; Use the rare scroll to break the drider's curse or remain as he is forever more?
***
It had been a hard fought battle in the sorcerer's tower but the group came out victorious. Lorroakan had been bested and his lifeless body had settled in the middle of the floor. Astarion was the first to root around the wizard’s quarters with Gale not far behind, both searching for powerful items and weapons they could pilfer for their journey. Gale’s sharp eye spotted a peculiar rosewood box in a corner with intricate swirls carved into the lid. He leaned in for a closer look and sensed that the chest was locked tight. Astarion also picked up on the notion and casually nudged Gale aside with his shoulder.
“Allow me,” Astarion said, chuffed.
Gale held up his hands and gave Astarion the chance to unlock the mysterious vessel. Retrieving his trusty lock picking tools he went to work. As he began to fiddle with it a magical aura pulsed from the box and a blast of magical fire surged from the base and onto the fumbling thief. Astarion’s clothes caught alight and made the vampire lurch from surprise and pain. He spun in circles, frantically slapping at the blaze that threatened to consume his clothes whole.
“AH! Hot, hot, HOT!” Astarion screeched.
Gale stood by, his blank expression mirroring his annoyance. He’d flick two fingers aside, a blue aura shrouding them before a downpour of water crashed over the ignited fop. This doused the fire as well as Astarion who now stood there, soaked but free from danger.
“Now, what have we learned, Astarion?” Gale asked.
The vampire’s upper lip rose, exposing his fangs, shooting the wizard a miffed glare.
“That’s right. When exploring a tower of sorcery, maaaybe let the seasoned wizard do the poking, hm?” Gale said, gesturing to himself.
Astarion rolled his eyes, his hands hurriedly squeezing out his hair before flinging his arms side to side to rid them of excess moisture.
“Fine. I doubt there is aught of interest in that chest anyway. Likely moth eaten robes and naughty paintings. Have at it, oh ‘mighty’ wizard.” Astarion gave a disingenuous bow in Gale’s direction, abandoning the chest in an effort to fix his drenched appearance.
Gale wasn’t put off by Astarion’s complaining, rather accustomed to it by this stage in their journey. Instead he put his focus on examining the chest with a more nuanced look. His keen arcane senses were able to detect the sheen of an enchantment that shimmered over the item as a whole. He outstretched his hands toward it, palms hovering inches above the lid, putting his full concentration in breaking the troublesome spell. His eyes took on a purple hue, his robes kicking out at his ankles crackling with magical energy. He called out a single word, willing the weave to do his bidding, assaulting the enchantment in an effort to break it. His determination paid off. The energy pushed from his palms covered the box and the shimmer that once dominated it’s surface shattered like fiberglass removing the danger.
“Ah, there we are.” Gale swung open the lid to peer inside curiously.
The coffer, at first, didn’t seem to contain anything of note just like Astarion predicted. A pile of old robes of various hues sat in a neatly folded pile. Gale picked them up to look them over and while they were of a fine make, they didn’t seem to have any significance beyond that. He frowned with the discovery, continuing to dig in hopes he’d discover more.
“Ah-ha! Utter trash, certainly not worth getting burned over,” Astarion said while wringing out his shirt.
“Mm no, there must be more. A sorcerer wouldn’t go through so much effort to protect worthless robes,” Gale replied.
This prompted Astarion to come closer to investigate once more. Gale cleared out everything leaving an empty chest. The vampire smirked as he leaned over, a knowing gleam twinkling in the corner of his eye.
“Oh darling, it seems we’ve been done in by a red herring. Cazador had many items of value, ones he’d not leave wittingly out in the open.” Astarion reached into the box and ran his smooth fingertips along the wooden walls of the container. He did so until he felt a discrepancy in the wood grain; An indent. “There you are.” He’d press the hidden button, a quiet double click of mechanisms heard within its walls. Both men watched while the false bottom of the box slid open revealing the true treasure beneath.
Astarion’s lips curled in a self-satisfied grin, leaning in closer to Gale to make cocky eye contact with him. “I suppose a rogue isn’t as useless in a tower of sorcery as you thought, HM?”
Gale side eyed his proud companion, palming the side of his face to gently push him away. “You’ve made your point, good work.”
Inside was a pouch of gold coin, a bizarre wooden wand painted red and gold with floral accents and a short stack of scrolls. Gale filtered through the items with some fascination, going through each scroll with fierce scrutiny. His snooping came to a halt when he read over one scroll in particular, his eyes increasing in size as the shock took hold. Astarion was in the process of dumping water from his boots when he noticed Gale’s frozen demeanor.
“What is it, what did you find?”
Gale didn’t answer his curious companion, instead whirling around to call down to the floor below. “TAV! You need to see this!”
All this time Tav was situated on the lower floor with Kar’niss who had sustained injuries during the battle. The drider had lowered himself to the ground so Tav had ease of access to his wounds. They were bandaging a cut on his arm when they heard Gale shouting from above. Tav’s brow crinkled in confusion and Kar’niss followed suit, both exchanging a glance. Before Tav could rush to Gale’s side the wizard was already climbing down the ladder with some urgency. Astarion followed behind, half dressed and damp but equally as curious as to his discovery.
“What’s going on?” Tav asked.
Gale handed over the scroll to them. “Here.”
They took the parchment and scanned over the text inscribed upon it, a creeping realization hitting them the further they read along. Their eyes darted to Gale, then to Kar’niss and back to the scroll, their fingers beginning to tremble.
“A wish spell,” they whispered.
This revelation sucked the air out of the room. Astarion’s jaw dropped with amazement while Kar’niss’ breath hitched in his throat. A silence fell over the massive study, each companion eyeing off the other, uncertainty and excitement palpable in their immediate vicinity.
Gale broke the silence first. “What do we do?
Tav pressed their lips into a thin line, soon turning to Kar’niss. “This is it, what we’ve been searching for. You can return to your true form, Kar’niss. Your suffering could come to an end, right here, right now.”
Kar’niss rose from his crouched position, his hand rubbing over his arm in a self-soothing gesture. He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat while legs shuffled beneath him in an anxious dance.
“But...this spell, it’s incredibly rare and powerful, is it not? Why waste it on me? So much could be done with this power. If I suffer it is due to my own folly,” Kar’niss said.
Astarion bolted forward as if angered by the statement, his crimson eyes glaring up at the drider. “Have you learned nothing after traveling with us? I know it’s a difficult lesson to learn, it took me far too long as it was. But what happened to you is not your doing. You were a victim, same as I. Take the scroll and reclaim your life.”
Kar’niss shrunk when he was chided so, unable to maintain his gaze on Astarion for too long. His nervous energy didn’t seem to wane, undecided and skeptical of his own worth.
“It’s true, this spell is not easy to come by. We can only use it once. With that said, I know first hand what it is like to be toyed with by the divine. Yours is a particularly cruel case, Kar’niss. As far as we know this is the only way to undo what has been done. I think we can all agree that despite our myriad of problems, this is your best chance at freedom,” Gale said. “We have alternatives to tackle our afflictions, you do not.”
Tav looked between Gale and Astarion, mulling over their words and watching Kar’niss shuffle about nearby. They took time to think and finally made their approach. They stepped toward Kar’niss, lifting an arm to gently rest their palm at the center of his chest.
“This isn’t a choice for any of us to make. You know better than anyone what is in your better interest and I trust in your judgment. If you need time to think it through then take it, you don’t have to decide this very moment.” Tav took a step closer, a warm smile on their face. “What is important is that you make the choice, that it is of your free will. Know that we will support you no matter the road you take. You are not a waste, Kar’niss, not by a long shot.”
Kar’niss listened to what everyone had to say, observing all present with some trepidation. He glanced down at Tav, resting his clawed hand atop of the one pressed to his chest. Without a word he stepped away from the group needing a moment to think by himself.
The others afforded Kar’niss his much needed space, retreating to another part of the tower to continue their search for other useful items. He was still in shock, scarcely believing that they had found such a rare item, something that could change his life moving forward. He came to a stop near a large standing mirror propped on a nearby wall. The drider turned to face the reflective surface, seeing his own image projected right back at him. He jolted from the surprise of it, as if it was the first time he truly saw himself since his change. His legs carried him closer, crouching down to get a better look.
His torso was bloodied from the recent battle, bandages placed over his arms where he’d suffered ice damage. Those details were the easiest to ignore, instead focusing on how twisted his once beautiful visage had become. His fingers reached to feather across the many eyes scattered across his forehead, trailing down to the scarred gash across his lip, finally reaching the hardened chitin sealed along his jawline. His gnarled hand reached out to caress the surface of the mirror as if trying to console the reflection within, his gaze meeting the pair staring back at him. His eyes tread lower, spotting the spider body his torso was haphazardly melded to, his pedipalps trembling beneath his belly button. He snarled and jerked his head away from the mirror, the biting sting of tears starting to collect at the corners of his eyes.
Was he worthy of salvation? He thought back to all of the atrocities he had committed both under Lolth and the Absolute, complacent in the part he played, a willing puppet for their unspeakable crimes. Astarion’s words rang in his mind, the notion that he was a victim rather than a fervent contributor. Should he be punished forever for actions of his past, or could he move beyond it and become the person he was meant to be? Gale’s statements came to mind next, the idea that he had been toyed with by those he worshiped, that he had the opportunity for freedom. What did that mean for someone like him? He could never return to the Underdark, not as a drider or a drow. That home was forever lost to him. Did the surface offer him something more, something greater? Or would he know the same abuse just with different faces?
Tav’s statement crashed through the walls of self doubt and hesitation. This was...his choice? Could he trust himself to make it? He realized he knew one thing for certain, he wanted to stay with Tav at any cost. He didn’t wish to be a burden on them, forever doomed to defend a drider from the gawking and cruel masses who didn’t understand him. Their life together would never know peace so long as Tav had to play protector. There were many other things they couldn’t do as he was now, things he’d long since thought about but was too afraid to voice. He wanted to know love, to know happiness, two things that were always short of his grasp, just out of reach.
Kar’niss turned to look back at the mirror but with more determination in his expression. He examined himself once more, for the final time, his head lifting as if in defiance of what Lolth had made him. He’d give the mirror a shove, pushing it over and letting it shatter on the floor below.
“Never again.”
During this time the group had pilfered much of the area. Gale had taken to reading the many texts stored on the bookshelves while Astarion hung his clothes on the balcony to dry, parading around in his underwear with no shame. Tav rolled their eyes at the display.
“There are many robes scattered about you could wear in the meantime,” Tav grumbled.
“Yes but they’re old, and ugly. Besides I look stunning au naturel. Really, you should be thanking me for providing your eyes with such a feast.” Astarion swished his arm in an effeminate arc.
Tav groaned and slumped deeper in the chair they had sat upon. “I’m going to regurgitate that feast onto Lorroakan’s carpet if you don’t stop.”
Their prattling was interrupted when they heard the clicking steps of the driders return. Gale closed his book and Tav stood up, Astarion joining the pair to look upon Kar’niss, the air of expectation heavy around them.
“Have you made a choice?” Tav asked.
Kar’niss rubbed his hands together nervously, looking between the three so as to work up the courage to make such an announcement.
“I thought about what you’ve said, all of you. While I still...struggle to believe I am worthy of this gift, I don’t want to spend the remainder of my life in hiding. You found me at the worst point in my life. You could’ve killed me without a second thought, you spared me instead. You showed endless kindness and patience while I struggled to contend with my own mind, feelings I thought to be genuine. I can’t return to the Underdark and Lolth’s shadow will forever follow me. At least with this spell I have the chance to live on the surface with a modicum of peace. I—“ He trailed off, his expression twisted while he searched for the right words. “I want to be happy. I don’t know what that really means for someone like me but I’m willing to find out.” He’d take in a shaken breath. “Use it.”
All three spared a glance to one another, seeming pleased with his conclusion. Tav stepped forward to hold the scroll out to Kar’niss but the drider raised both hands in refusal.
“I think since Gale found the scroll, he should do the honors. That and I am worried I’ll word it wrong and botch the entire thing. I don’t want to make my condition worse,” Kar’niss said.
Gale chuckled and took the scroll from Tav. “A fair concern, I will be diligent with my phrasing. Are you ready?”
Kar’niss inhaled a deep chest full of air, his legs dancing shuffling beneath him once more. “I think so, yes.”
Tav wandered over, issuing a comforting squeeze to his hip. “Everything will be fine. We’re right here.” They’d then back away to give distance for the spell to work its magic.
Astarion and Tav kept their distance, the vampire taking Tav’s hand into his own to give it a reassuring squeeze. Despite all his fanfare he realized the importance of this moment for all involved. Gale stepped forward keeping a gap between himself and the anxious drider, holding up the scroll to focus on arcane concentration.
“I wish for the drider known as Kar’niss to be restored to his true form, complete and whole as the drow he was before Lolth’s cruel curse kissed his essence. Memories hale and intact, body rich and vibrant, freed of the evil rendered upon him against his will.”
As soon as the last word left Gale’s lips the scroll in his hands crumbled to dust, their particles glittering in the air. They floated over to Kar’niss and began to dance in a shimmering ring around him. Kar’niss looked around with an urgent jerk of his head, lifting his arms due to a tinge of fear striking his core. The particles grew in size and number until they formed a continuous beam of golden light, expanding to form a dome of radiance that concealed the drider in full. Gale, Astarion and Tav stood by, their eyes wide and breath baited. They couldn’t look away even as the light increased in intensity, unable to see what was happening within. Loose papers in the tower went flying, carried away by the breeze radiating from the churning sphere in the center of the room. All of them could feel the force of this magic and it’s near infinite power, crackling and buzzing with arcane energy of a grand magnitude. The swirling golden light started to shrink in on itself, a notion that made Tav step forward with concern. Was Kar’niss alright, what was happening to him?
Soon the sphere shrunk to half the size it had been prior to its conjuring, the shell cracking down the center and breaking away, portions of the dome flaking away and disintegrating from sight. Once the shell had all but faded away the only thing that was left behind was the glowing silhouette of a man on the floor, doubled over on his hands and knees. The aura steadily peeled away revealing the changed individual beneath. A doubled over drow male was left behind, his form naked and vulnerable. The trio nearby watched in stunned silence, waiting for a sign that the spell had truly done as advertised.
A soft groan rumbled from the man on the floor, his hands pushing himself up into a seated position. He was dazed but alive and healthy by all appearances. Shoulder length white hair curtained around his pale face, now cleansed of the eyes which had once dotted his brow. The hard carapace that once molded over his arms, chest and jawline were no where to be seen, leaving behind smooth flesh and darkened nipples. Most notable were the presence of legs, two instead of eight, thighs muscular and firm. Kar’niss held up his hands which had begun to shake, looking them over in awe. His fingers were smooth rather than jagged and rough, able to bend his fingers with more flexibility than he had prior. He ran his palms across his face, particularly his forehead, noting the absence of the additional orbs he once carried. Finally, he glanced down to see his legs and genitals, all as they had been once upon a time. A choked gasp surged from his throat as the reality of it all began to set in. He was back to himself.
Tav rushed into action once they assessed the situation. They ran over and grabbed a loose blanket draped over a nearby chair, darting to Kar’niss’ side. They dropped to their knees in front of him, draping the garment over his shoulders to stave off the incoming chill.
“Kar’niss, are you alright? How do you feel?” Tav asked.
The drow didn’t know what to say at first, still patting over his torso and thighs in an effort to make sure this wasn’t a dream. He shook his head, mouth hanging agape, a swell of something building in his chest that he hadn’t felt in an age; Joy. His trembling lips pulled into an emotional smile, throwing his arms out to wrap them around Tav. Pulled into the vice grip of a hug Tav promptly laughed from surprise and relief, their arms threading around his torso to return the gesture enthusiastically.
“Th-Thank you...thank you…” Kar’niss whimpered, his face buried in Tav’s neck.
Tav bit their lower lip while stroking the back of his hair, leaning more into the embrace.
“You did most of the work, Kar’niss. This is your victory as much as it is ours. I’m proud of you.”
He bit back a sob from such a heartfelt statement, fingers curled into the small of Tav’s back. He leaned away enough to make eye contact with them, his body radiating overwhelming emotion. He cupped Tav’s face and brought them in for a kiss, one that he put every ounce of his body and soul into. Tav returned the affection with equal vigor, clinging to the man they adored so.
As the pair embraced Gale and Astarion stood by, looking on with their own sense of pride and joy at the outcome. Gale glanced Astarion’s way.
“You really couldn’t have put on some clothes for this monumental, once in a lifetime moment?” Gale grunted.
Astarion scoffed and waved a hand about dismissively. “Darling, they’re not paying one speck of attention to me. For once, that’s a good thing, mw-ha! Besides, my near nudity will likely help Kar’niss feel less self conscious about his own.”
Gale chuckled and propped his arm on Astarion’s shoulder, leaning into him while looking Tav and Kar’niss’ way.
“True enough, Astarion. True enough.”
Tav and Kar’niss continued to hold and kiss one another, filled with relief and hope for what future lay ahead. This was the beginning of a new journey for the pair, one that they were ready to face together.
To the very end.
158 notes · View notes
sp1rit-realm · 9 months
Text
༻¨*:· 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐓 ·:*¨༺
༻¨*:· summary ·:*¨༺ you hate remus lupin, and he hates you. what happens when you get stuck in a lift together?
༻¨*:· notes ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 hour four!!!!! this one is angsty, folks! strap in! 𖦹 enemies to ?? 𖦹 forced proximity 𖦹 fem!reader 𖦹 remus has chronic pain 𖦹 i did not proofread this bc i'm lazy ⎝(ˊᗜˋ)⎠ 𖦹 again, thank you so, so much for the love on this series!!!!
༻¨*:· word count ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 1k
prologue / hour 3 << pt. 5 -- hour 4 >> hour 5
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For a moment, he swears he's back there. Back when everything was simple for you two.
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༻¨*:· 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝟒 ·:*¨༺
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"Right," Remus squeezes out, "I do remember that." 
"Yeah. It was a good night."
He laughs humorlessly, "I got so wasted that night. Don't remember half of it. Shit, all I remember is you and then throwing up for about an hour the morning after."
Part of you glows. He remembered you.
"Yeah, you were... fucked up that night."
'You looked so pretty that night,' He wants to say—he can't. In the back of his mind, he's intrigued by you. He wants to know you—know you the way Sirius does. Sirius knew so much about you. He knew about your dreams and your biggest accomplishments, knew of your fears and your failures. And Remus Lupin, in some twisted way, was jealous of Sirius Black.
"You were in the flat that morning, weren't you?"
"Yeah, I stayed with you guys 'cos my flatmate was being a raging bitch."
He nods, "Right."
He remembers seeing you—your hair was a mess as you ate your cereal, and you waved at him with your spoon, wearing a bright smile.
"I was so happy to see you were still alive," Your face wrinkles with a smile, and you shine brighter than the sun.
'What a cute smile,' His brain taunts him.
"I was happy I was alive. Though, after hurling that much, I felt like death." He laughs.
You join him, "I bet. You looked deathly."
He smirks, "More than usual?"
You break into laughter as you remember one of your many insults thrown at him.
. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
"You look like death, as per usual," You drunkenly slurred at him. Then you squint, eyes meeting his neck, "Are those fucking hickeys?" You'd messily pulled at his collar, "They are! Wow! Remus Lupin, everybody!" You hollered in the crowded bar, "Absolute man whore!"
He stared at you vindictively, "Oh, shut up!" He had yelled.
The rest of the night was a blur. You remember arguing with him more, and Sirius had intervened at one point. You were yelling profanities at Remus as Sirius dragged you away.
. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
You sigh, "That was a horrible night."
"Your makeup was all smudged."
You snort, "I was making out with some douche."
"And I was the man whore."
You fall into fits of laughter; he soon joins you, "That was a horrid night. I went home with this guy and..." He rubs his hands over his face, "Ugh. He was just a shitbag."
You frown, "Sorry. That sucks."
"Eh," he shrugs, "It's whatever."
You're both silent for a moment, basking in the feeling of... not hating one another.
Remus leans against the wall and sinks into a seated position, "I'm really fucking tired."
He sounds exhausted, and you would say you're not sure where it's coming from, but the reality is, you've been stuck in this elevator with him for four hours, and it's tiring. You collapse next to him. Your knees touch, and it sends sparks up your thigh and through your ribcage, settling in your heart.
"And my joints hurt," He adds.
You gawp for a second, and then you nod, "Right. I forgot."
His movement is sharp as he jerks his head in your direction, "What?" He snaps.
"Hm? Are we back to hating each other?"
"You forgot about what?"
You cock your head, confused, "You have chronic pain. No?"
"I—" Remus is torn. Should he tell you? There's the chance you'll make fun of him for it, but then it hits him that you already know. You know he's chronically ill, and you haven't said anything about it, "Yeah. I have to use a cane sometimes."
"Mhm," You nod, "You've got that one with all the stickers on it."
"I've had that one for years—got it in our fifth year as a present from... everyone," He smiles, and it's so warm that you feel yourself melting into him.
You're both quiet for what feels like hours. It was about two minutes.
"You know, after that night, I always wondered what was wrong with me." You say quietly.
"What?"
"I mean..." Your tone is soft and laced with hurt, "Why don't you like me, Remus? Tell me, full stop."
He shakes his head, "I don't think you want to know."
"I do!" You insist, "I really want to know."
He throws his arms up, "Why the fuck do you care?!"
You're taken aback. It's not the first time Remus has yelled at you, but it somehow hurts the same as it did the first time. This damn lift was making you go crazy.
"Because!" You scream back, "Because I want you to like me!"
"But why?" He groans.
"Because— because I don't think you're all that bad. I see the way you interact with our friends. You're so kind with them. Why am I the exception? What is so wrong with me?"
Remus sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, "You're full of yourself. That's why."
"Bullshit!" You yell, "That's complete and utter bullshit, Remus. And we both know it." 
He rolls his eyes, "See? It's this kind of shit. You wanted to know, so I told you. Now you're complaining like a baby. Honestly, I'm not even sure why my friends put up with you."
Insecurity floods your body, filling up every crack and crevice of your being. 
'My friends.' His—not yours, not ours, his.
It hits you hard, and you go silent. You always felt like an outsider in their group—they'd all known each other since they were kids, and you suddenly appear with Sirius, and they all think you're his latest feat. But you keep coming around, and you've convinced yourself they hate you—that they hate you, and Remus is the only one to actually say something.
"Honestly," he continues, "I'm pretty sure they only put up with you because of Sirius. He'd raved about you. Saying you're talented, intelligent, funny. What a fucking shame that none of it was true."
He's not thinking straight, and he doesn't even realize he's said something so insulting and hurtful until your chest sinks in, and your face contorts into an expression of pain. He's cut you open and, not even a second later, has rubbed salt into the wound.
"Shit— That's not—" He struggles out.
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GUYS IM SORRY (lying)
lmk if u wanna b tagged!
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candycandy00 · 6 months
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I’m working on an AU fanfic called The Doll House (read it here!) where the JJK men train sex “dolls” and each have their own specialties. I’m doing Geto’s story now but I can’t decide who to write after I finish Geto.
Some details about each story:
Toji: You work at a convenience store Toji frequents and you’ve fallen in love with him. You know he works as a trainer so you go to the Doll House and confess to him while asking to be his doll. He says no at first because dolls aren’t supposed to get attached to their trainers and he’ll just be handing you over to someone else anyway. You find out that he can pick one doll during his career to keep for himself, so you make a bet with him that you can make him fall in love with you by the end of the training. Toji, who can’t resist a bet, agrees to it.
Nanami: You’ve been forced/tricked into signing the doll contract by your family and you have a crippling fear of men due to being raised only around women and going to all girl schools your whole life. Until you meet your sexy trainer Nanami, who shows you how great a man can be.
Gojo: Needing money to pay for a medical procedure for your mother, you sell yourself to the Doll House. But to your horror, your trainer ends up being the very guy who bullied you relentlessly all through your school years. Now you’re stuck being his pet “chubby bunny” (his mean nickname for you in school), not realizing that he actually had a crush on you when you were classmates.
Choso: When you find out your younger sister, just barely 18, has been sold to the Doll House, you rush over to stop the sale. You arrive to find her being led away by her trainer (Choso). The contract is already signed. There’s nothing you can do… except volunteer to take her place! Choso is moved by your willingness to do anything to protect your sibling, and the two of you bond over that while he trains you to be a dom.
Sukuna: At 18 you were sold on the direct market as a doll. Your cruel owner abused you and breached the contract by doing “permanent physical harm” to you, leaving you covered in scars, but also letting you out of the contract. A few years later, you’re considered “unsellable” due to the scars and your numb, dead inside attitude. But the Doll House takes you on, giving you to Sukuna to train. You thought you couldn’t feel anything anymore, but Sukuna will teach you things you never knew about both pleasure and pain.
I’ll probably write them in order of how many votes they get. Any comments/ideas/feedback is appreciated!
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ladykailitha · 8 months
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Royal Pain Part 18
Hey guys! I got the impression that that cliffhanger really threw people and only one person guessed right.
Thank you for all those that wished me a belated birthday, I had a great weekend.
Today we have resolution to the cliffhanger, some low stakes drama, and the only love triangle I can tolerate ;).
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17
***
Steve felt someone shove him into the car door. He was whirled around and his back was slammed back into the door. He was face to face with his assailant. He was objectively handsome, Steve supposed. He had long, straight blond hair that went down to the middle of his back, piercing hazel eyes, and piercings in his eyebrow, nose, both ears and pair of snakebites in his lower lips.
On his neck, Steve could make out a tattoo of some kind of bird. He gulped. The man radiated malice and spite.
“I don’t care who the fuck you think you are,” the man snarled. “But you stay away from Eddie Munson.”
Steve huffed out a laugh. “Fuck off.” He pushed the man back far enough that he had room to swing if he needed it. “I’m betting you’re the asshole that made him feel unsafe. Well, you messed with the wrong person, dude.”
The man, Blondie as Steve was starting to call him in his head, grabbed Steve’s shirt and pulled him so that their faces were inches from each other.
“Leave him alone,” Blondie sneered. “Or you’ll find out how unsafe I can be.”
Suddenly Blondie was yanked back and thrown to the side. Hopper stood over him, snarling.
“Fuck off before my apprentice calls the cops,” Hop said, jutting his thumb at Eden who had her phone out, likely recording the whole thing.
Blondie looked over at Steve, who stood there with his arms crossed and then back at Hopper. Both men glared down at him. Blondie got to his feet and dusted himself off.
“This isn’t the last you’ll see of me, asshole,” he sneered at Steve. “I meant what I said. You touch Eddie Munson and I’ll make you pay.”
“And I told you, you are messing with the wrong man,” Steve snapped back. “You even so much as look his direction and you’ll wish you were never born.”
The man scoffed and walked away rolling his eyes.
Hopper turned to Steve, gripping his shoulder. “Hey, you okay?”
Steve let out a long shuddering sigh. “Yeah.”
“Now, you want to tell me what the fuck that was about?” he barked.
“One of the people I tattoo had–has a crazy ex-boyfriend,” Steve explained.
Hopper rolled his eyes. “Fuck. I’ve still got friends in the local police, I see if I can’t convince one or two of them to drive by your shop once and while and make sure everything is okay.”
Steve breathed out a heavy sigh. That wouldn’t do anything about the stalking but at least he wouldn’t be able to do something to the shop.
He nodded.
“Take care of yourself, you hear me?” Hopper said gruffly.
“I will, I promise.”
*
Robin and Steve arrived early the next morning to see the candidates for the receptionist position. They had three interviews lined up and hoped that someone could be found fast.
Robin had started main lining six shots of espresso to get through the day. Something the shop people had taken to calling ‘the fallen angel’.
The first one up was a kid right out of high school. Steve would have guessed that he was Erica’s age or there about. He was nervous and kept chewing on his nails the whole time.
Once he was gone, Steve and Robin looked at each other and said with a heavy sigh, “NO.”
The next one was Troy Walsh. Robin chatted with him happily, but Steve remained silent.
After he left Robin turned to him and smacked his arm. “What the hell, Dingus! He was good!”
Steve folded his arms and ducked his head, scuffing at the floor with the edge of the sole of his sneaker. “If the biggest middle school bully of one of your friends came here and applied for a job, would you hire them?”
Robin opened her mouth to answer but stopped before so much as a squawk passed her lips. She closed it and pursed her lips together.
“I guess it would depend on how often you see said friend,” she said quietly, “and whether or not they come to shop.”
“Will.”
Her jaw dropped and her eyes nearly bulged out of her head. “Tell me you’re kidding!”
Steve shook his head. “Went as far as to push him while they were playing at the quarry. Will almost fell, if Mike hadn’t caught him, there’s no telling what would happened.”
“There’s bullying and then there’s attempted murder!” Robin screeched. “Jesus Christ!” She looked at the door Troy had just exited in shock and horror.
Steve gave her leg a squeeze. “We still have one more to interview. Maybe they’ll be better then the last two options.”
Robin sighed, but nodded.
“Steve?” the clear, bright voice asked from the doorway. “Oh my god, Robin?”
Both of their heads snapped up in shock. Standing in the doorway was Robin’s high school crush and fellow marching band-ite, Vickie Powell. Her bright green eyes twinkled as a rosy blush dusted her freckled cheeks. In short, she was as gorgeous as Robin remembered.
Steve looked at the application in his hand and then back up at her. “Victoria Prince?”
She shrugged. “Got married, found out he was cheating on me with every available woman on his dorm floor, divorced him, liked the name so I kept it. Also because his parents love me, so...” She winked.
Steve and Robin laughed.
“Come on in!” Steve said encouragingly. “Sit down, tell me about where you’re at now and why you want the job.”
They started talking and they slipped into an easy banter. Before they knew it there was the tinkling of the front door and they could hear voices.
Robin and Steve shared a glance. Steve got to his feet.
“When can you start?” he asked, sticking out his hand for her to shake.
She made a happy, surprised kind of scoff. “Wait, seriously?”
Robin nodded gleefully.
“Today work for you?”
Steve grinned. “Hell yeah it does. We all have nicknames that match the theme, pick one you think you won’t mind being yelled at in. Robin will teach you all the ins and outs of the shop and in two weeks, you’ll be put as main morning receptionist and then we’ll go from there.”
Vickie grinned. “That’s great! I can’t wait to start.”
Robin and Vickie went out to the foyer and he could hear Vickie being introduced to the rest of the Royals.
Yeah, she was going to be a good fit.
*
Steve was happy. That should have been his first warning sign. Because other then the strange run in with Eddie’s ex, everything had been going well. His shop was busy, his training of Chrissy and Argyle was moving along smoothly, Vickie was fitting in perfectly, Robin was having a crisis about having to work with two pretty girls, but Steve thought it was cute, Erica had built the henna thing up so that it was very lucrative, so much so that she was thinking about not going back to school in the fall.
And that was including everything that was happening with Eddie. The tattoo was coming along amazingly. The sword was done and Steve was starting work on the right wing. Saturday nights were for the band and the club after. Steve was actually relishing the slower speed Eddie asked to go with, because he was learning a lot about Eddie and just having fun without the expectations of a relationship.
So of course that meant something was going to go wrong. A wrong that took the shape of Argyle’s roommate and his girlfriend and suddenly Argyle being cagey about them made too much sense.
Steve was at the corner grocer trying to decide between green beans or a side salad for dinner with Eddie tonight. He pulled out his phone to ask Eddie his opinion when he heard a familiar giggle. A sound he hadn’t heard in a really long time.
He turned around just as Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle stumbled around the center aisle display of avocados, laughing about something Steve didn’t hear.
Suddenly Steve’s insides turned to ice. Argyle stopped first and he looked down embarrassed.
Jonathan spotted him next and the look of pity in his eyes made Steve want to throw up right there in the produce section. The ice traveled up his spine as Nancy finally realized that her companions had stopped laughing. She looked at Jonathan, who pointed behind her.
Steve could see her frown as she turned and then her jaw dropped in recognition.
“Steve?” Nancy asked, jutting her head forward in shock.
He took a step back, looking at Argyle, who refused to meet his eye. That’s when he got it.
The friend that needed Argyle to come from California to take care of stayed was Jonathan.
Jonathan had been a car accident two years ago and Will said that Nancy needed help taking care of him, but both Will and Joyce weren’t able to. Will had never said if they got some help, but when he stopped talking about it, Steve assumed they had.
It had been rough time for the Byers family and while Steve sympathized, the only Byers family member he was still on speaking terms with was Will.
He took another step back and stumbled into different display. This one for oranges. He turned on his heel and scrambled to get away, stumbling and bumping into people before just setting his basket down and running.
Steve managed to make it out to the parking lot before he had a break down. He tried to get into his car, but he kept dropping his keys. Finally he turned around and slid down to the ground as he fought off a panic attack.
Suddenly there was someone beside him holding out a blunt.
“Do you partake?” Argyle asked gently.
Steve nodded. “It’s been awhile, but yeah.”
Argyle lit the blunt and passed it over to Steve who took a deep drag before handing it back to the other man. He let the smoke out, low and slow letting the drug calm his tortured mind.
“They told me not to tell you,” Argyle said after a moment. “They said it would only hurt my chances of becoming your apprentice.”
Steve sighed and threw his head back against the door of the car. “Maybe, maybe not. You’re good, man. I just feel so...lied to.”
Argyle took a hit and handed it back to Steve. “I told them we should at least you know that Jonathan was my roommate. Especially since you’re still bros with his bro, you know.”
That got a small smile out of Steve. “Probably. I don’t know how I would have reacted because I wasn’t given the chance to make the choice for myself.”
“Not telling you took away your agency,” Argyle said sagely, nodded. “That wasn’t cool.”
Steve nodded back. “Yeah, but I do like you. I like your style. I want to keep having you as my apprentice...”
Argyle took the blunt away from Steve’s fingers as he was just letting it burn down. “I feel like there’s a but there somewhere.”
Steve thudded his head against the car door again. “Did they tell you she cheated on me with him?”
Argyle frowned. Steve thought it looked odd on the normally chill man. He shook his head. “They didn’t.”
Steve took the blunt back and took another drag. “Yeah. I didn’t find out until after Nancy and I broke up. Just something Jonathan said about when they hooked up for the first time and when Nancy and I officially broke it off set alarm bells off in my head.”
“The timeline didn’t match up?” Argyle asked.
Steve nodded. “It was such bullshit. I thought I had moved on. Things are going great and then this happens and it feels like a bomb has fucking gone off under my feet.”
“You like Jane Austen, my dude?” Argyle asked.
Steve snorted. “Sort of. Robin loves the A&E ‘Pride and Prejudice’ and watches it all the time. It’s hard to miss.”
Argyle nodded. “It’s like how Jane felt when she saw Mr Bingley for first time since he went to London and ghosted her. Yeah, it was tough that first meeting, but now she knew what to expect the next time.”
Steve cocked his head to the side. “You’re right, thanks.”
Argyle gave him a half smile. He stood up and ground out the blunt under his heel.
“See you tomorrow,” Steve said with a timid smile.
“Yeah?” Argyle asked, unsure but hopeful.
Steve stood up. “Yeah. I think you need better friends, but that’s a personal opinion not a professional one. And my professional opinion is that you are a great artist and I want to keep you for as long as you want a job in my shop okay?”
Argyle nodded, a big grin on his face. “See you tomorrow!”
Steve watched him go with a shake of his head. The dude was too nice for the likes of Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers, but there were worst people to be friends with. Like Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins for example. And considering that Steve was the one that had made that dumb mistake, he couldn’t really fault Argyle for his.
He went back into the grocer and finished his shopping. At least he would have a funny story to tell Eddie tonight. He just had to apologize to management first.
***
I hope copying it from back when the tagging was working will help. Fingers crossed because I am running out of things to try at this point.
Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Epilogue
Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​ @renaissan-vvitch @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @chaoticlovingdreamer @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @aizawa-emma @redfreckledwolf @thesuninyaface @bookbinderbitch @yikes-a-bee @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @archermightbegay @hallucinatedjosten @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @bestwifehaver @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @oldwitcheshat @nightmareglitter @tinyplanet95
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epicbuddieficrecs · 6 months
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Weekly recap | October 16th-29th 2023 (Part One)
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I've got a banner now! What do you guys think? 😃 Two weeks of fics, it's a long one, I hope you enjoy!
(Edit: yes it says PART ONE because apparently I've read so many fics Tumblr can't handle the amount of links 😭)
Complete
I Was Betting On Forever (But Forever Comes And Goes) by callmenewbie/ @callmenewbie (Car accident | 4K | Teen): Eddie gets a call from Buck in the middle of the night and it’s about as bad as one would expect
Take My Hand and Let’s Pretend by giselleslash/ @gigi-gigi (Getting together | 4K | General): Christopher shows Eddie and Buck how to make braided rings, Eddie does something unexpected, and Buck loses a bit of his sanity over it all.
Love and Bullets Both Shatter Hearts (But Only One Can Put You Back Together) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Spies AU | 11K | Explicit): Agent [Redacted] Diaz is the best at what he does. Usually. But lately there's this real pain in the ass* who's been ruining his missions: Code Name "Buck." *stupidly handsome and annoyingly talented rival spy
Guilt Takes a Lunch Break at Two in the Morning by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (PWP, Sexual Fantasy | 1,8K | Explicit): Eddie's married, and he's never going to cheat. Even if his wife hasn't been around. Buck knows Eddie's married, and he's probably not into men, and he won't ruin the best friendship he's ever had. Doesn't mean either of them can't imagine other things.
Direct Deposit by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (PWP, Buck/Connor/Kameron but it's still endgame Buddie | 10K | Explicit): Buck's asked to contribute the old-fashioned way.
in the middle by honestlydarkprincess/ @honestlydarkprincess (PWP, Buck/Eddie/Natalia but endgame Buddie | 4K | Explicit): Or, Eddie walks in on friends with benefits Buck and Natalia. Buck and Eddie figure out their feelings and then the three of them have some fun.
🔥 Your Love is an Oil Slick (It Glows like Rainbows, It Stains My Soul) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Canon Divergent - Supernatural Elements, Ghost Buck | 67K | Explicit): When Eddie's son claims he has an imaginary friend, Eddie doesn't think much of it. Christopher is seven, it's what kids do. But then weird things start happening around the house, and Eddie starts dreaming about a handsome blue-eyed man. Turns out, Christopher's friend isn't so imaginary. Their house is haunted.
🔥 my words are paper tigers by hattalove/ @hattalove (Time Loop, Canon Divergent | 20K | Teen): or: buck breaks up with eddie, even if it means losing a part of himself, because it's the right thing to do. the universe decides to test that conviction.
all i wanna do right now. by dylaesthetics (Season 6, Coming Out | 4K | Teen): Eddie starts acting out of character. Buck worries.
remember to remember me by Daffi_990_ao3/ @hannah-ruth-990 (Canon-Divergent, Post-Lightning, Amnesia | 31K | Explicit): Buck and Eddie finally get together only for lightning to strike a few days later, leaving Buck with no memories of them ever becoming a couple.
toy with me by honestlydarkprincess/ @honestlydarkprincess (PWP, Post-S6 | 2K | Explicit): Or, the one where Eddie accidentally walks in on Buck using his new toy.
i am never without it by Maira/ @carrierofthepaperclips (Getting Together | 3K | Teen): Buck takes them out slowly, reverently, giving them their own place on the bedspread. It takes him longer than he thinks - while there aren’t really that many items, he lingers over each one, memories flashing through his mind like quicksilver. He shouldn’t have opened this box.
My dandelion tell me when you've made your mind // Kinktober Day 23 - Overstimulation by Heyimbeccah (PWP, BDSM | 1K | Explicit): Eddie's eyes light up as he rubs his thumb over his cock again and again, drawing a series of whimpers from his throat. "It's gonna hurt, baby," he whispers. "Please," Buck says, his voice breaking.
🔥 stupid people. by brewrosemilk/ @gayhoediaz (Canon Divergent, Sex Worker Buck | 160K | Explicit): New in Los Angeles, and having recently admitted to himself that he's gay, Eddie figures that hiring a sex worker might be a good way to keep his private life cut off from his job and his son. A way to keep things from becoming too complicated. It works. For a while.
believe in one thing (i won't go away) by heartbeatdiaz/ @loserdiaz (Canon Divergent, Post-Coma | 24K | Mature): the one where buck is figuring out stuff after waking up from a coma, eddie misses his best friend and they go to couple's therapy.
you're where i stand, hearing the sea by Maira/ @carrierofthepaperclips (Getting Together | 3K | Teen): ... or the one with the accidental kiss.
With Great Power Comes Great Pining by Princessfbi/ @princessfbi (Post-Lightning, Getting Together | 10K | Teen): It was the lightning strike. That had to be it. It was the only logical conclusion. Though, when it comes to being able to suddenly read people’s minds, Buck supposed there wasn’t a whole lot of logic involved. Well… Not people. Just… Eddie’s mind. 
look straight ahead if you like it slow by hattalove/ @hattalove (PWP, Established Buddie | 6K | Explicit): “This gets you going, huh?” Eddie grins, propping himself up on his elbows so he can move higher on the bed, reach the pretty pink bow of Buck’s mouth. “Devotion? You being it for me?” He stretches up toward Buck’s ear, whispers: “Monogamy?”
your long day is over now by hattalove/ @hattalove (Post Season 5, Pre-Buddie | 4K | Teen): or, buck leaves, then comes back home again. 
been yours longer than i haven't by hattalove/ @hattalove (Friends to Lovers | 1K | Teen): in which buck tries dating, and eddie has an embarrasing number of oh moments.
never want for more when you're near by hattalove/ @hattalove (Getting Together | 4K | Teen): in which buck gets drunk and sleeps with eddie. except does he?
baby, it's halloween (we can be anything) by heartbeatdiaz/ @loserdiaz (Post-Lawsuit | 2K | Teen): After Eddie forgives him and after they share that hug, Eddie invites Buck to come spend the night of Halloween with Chris and him, where he belongs. More feelings come to light and everything works out for the better.
baby, loving you's the real thing by hattalove/ @hattalove (First Kiss | 2K | Teen): in which eddie, very literally, has a brush with buck 1.0.
can't do a love song (not the way you sang them to me) by hattalove/ @hattalove (Post-Season 1, Neighbours AU | 7K | Mature): in which buck sleeps around for healthy reasons, and thinks about his next-door neighbor a healthy amount.
california wishing on these stars by hattalove/ @hattalove (Post-Season 5, Getting Together | 21K | Teen): in which 'tis the season, buck is single again, and eddie is being very brave about it.
pretty in pink by honestlydarkprincess/ @honestlydarkprincess (PWP, Panties | 4K | Explicit): Or, the one where Eddie finds out Buck's little secret and Buck wrongly assumes he has a problem with it so Eddie has to set things straight.
sucker for pain by prettyboybuckley/ @prettyboybuckley (PWP, Spanking | 2K | Explicit): OR: Buck gets spanked in one of his most intimate places
Make So Much Smoke it Sparks a Fire by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (PWP, Succubi&Incubi | 7K | Explicit): Incubi and succubi are not about sex. They're about lust. Desire. The build up. Driving you so insane that sex is all you can think about, all you want, all you need. Pushing you right over the edge. Naturally, Buck and Eddie like to have fun with this.
Love Like the Ocean (Dirties Your Body, Cleans Your Soul) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Mermaid Buck, PWP | 5K | Explicit): Eddie and Buck have been dating for a while, but practicalities have prevented them from having sex in Buck's true form. That's about to change.
I Love Oklahoma by chicklette/ @chicklette (Getting Together | 1,7K | General): Sometimes, you need to be able to call someone out without it being everything. Sometimes, you just need to make a hole and say here: spill it out here. We can grow it or bury it as needed, but you gotta get it out.
lost in your current like a priceless wine by heartbeatdiaz/ @loserdiaz (Established Buddie | 2K | Teen): Eddie jumps into conclusions, him and Karen get drunk and Buck is tired but also amused. It all works in the end.
may these memories break our fall by heartbeatdiaz/ @loserdiaz (Canon Divergent, Married Buddie, Amnesia | 6K | Teen): or: eddie is a soldier coming home for christmas, he wants to surprise his husband and son for the holiday but things don't go as planned.
then through the phone ( came all your tears ) by heartbeatdiaz/ @loserdiaz (Post-Season 5, Dispatcher Eddie | 3K | Teen): After leaving the 118, Eddie becomes a 911 dispatcher.
put on a slow dumb show for you by fleetinghearts/ @shitouttabuck (Getting Together | 2K | Teen): or, they’re sleepy and a little drunk and buck’s one step behind
it can't be unlearned (i've known the warmth of you) by heartbeatdiaz/ @loserdiaz (Werewolf Buck | 4K | Teen): He thinks maybe he fell asleep and he's having a weird dream or something. There's a big— a huge— wolf curling on itself and sleeping soundly where his coffee table should be.
spinning faster than the plane that took you by heartbeatdiaz/ @loserdiaz (Canon Divergent, Post-Coma | 9K | Teen): or: Buck flees to the other side of the world, they're both miserable and also pining idiots in love. Somehow it all works out in the end.
baby, let the games begin by heartbeatdiaz/ @loserdiaz (Post-Season 5, Getting Together | 3K | Teen): There's a baseball game, Eddie pines and Hen is so done with these two idiots.
🔥 Don't They Know It's the End of the World? by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Fallout 4 AU, Post-Apocalyptic | 32K | Mature | Warning: Violence): After being put in a cryogenic sleep for over a hundred years to wait out an apocalyptic event, Eddie Diaz wakes up, too early, to find his son has been stolen from his cryo-chamber. Scared and alone in a frightening world he doesn't recognize, Eddie is willing to do anything to get his kid back.
WIP
and here, too, am i by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Future fic, Married Buddie | 1/3 | 11K | Teen): Six months into their marriage, Eddie is still struggling to decide whether or not he wants more kids, when he knows Buck does. The universe may not scream, but it certainly talks.
🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon, S1 through S6 | 96/? | 245K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.
Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me I should know by JJK/ @trenchcoatsandtimetravel (Demon Buck, Canon Divergent | 5/? | 9K | Teen): Buck is a demon with the power to help with pregnancy, childbirth, and infant health. When the Buckleys make a deal asking for someone to help 'save their baby', Buck leaps at the chance as it will give him what he's always wanted: a life on earth. But demon deals are tricky and neither of them gets quite what they're after. This is Buck's journey as he navigates growing up on earth and remembering how to help those in need.
Re-Read
I Opened My Eyes and There You Were by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Post-Season 3, Getting Together | 4K | Explicit): In which Buck provides the dots and Eddie finally connects them.
Drowning in Dreams (You're My Raft) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels Post-Tsunami, Getting Together | 5K | Explicit): In which Buck sleeps his way into a relationship with Eddie, but not in the way you'd think.
Like a Sack of Bricks by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Getting Together | 2K | Teen): One word from Christopher, and Eddie's realizing he's made a serious miscalculation about his best friend.
Love Like Taffy by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (PWP, Dom/Sub | 4K | Explicit): Buck likes it when Eddie puts him in his place. And Eddie's noticed.
🔥 let's hear it for the boy by hattalove/ @hattalove (Post-Season 5, Coming Out | 56K | Teen): in which eddie attends a self-empowerment group for gbtq men to supplement his therapy, and is empowered to: forgive himself, say "i'm gay" to his own reflection in the mirror, accidentally adopt an adult, make fried rice, and tell his straight best friend that he's in love with him. not necessarily in that order.
rainbows have nothing to hide by hattalove/ @hattalove (Getting Together | 3K | Teen): how is eddie diaz like kermit the frog? let buck and christopher count the ways. (Part 1 of the kermit verse)
this savoir faire by hattalove/ @hattalove (Established Buddie | 5K | Teen): or, the one in which embracing the meme life turns out to be more complicated than eddie expected. (Part 2 of the kermit verse)
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holylulusworld · 1 year
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Deranged Marriage (9) – Two tidal waves
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Summary: Your father wants you to choose a husband. Your chosen one doesn’t like the idea one bit.
Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x (Mafia daughter)! Reader
Characters: Steve Rogers, Alexander Pierce
Warnings: mentions of character’s death, language, strong/bratty reader, banter, sexual tension, enemies with sexual tension, making out, still idiots in love, hand around throat (non-sexual), threats, implied torture with knives
Deranged Marriage masterlist
<< Part 8
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“Fucking hell, get it over with, James Buchanan Barnes. You’ve got a dick and she got…uh whatever that bitch is hiding under her cheap fake designer clothes,” you argue with Bucky again.
You cross your arms over your chest, huffing as Bucky refuses sex with Natasha. This is to make it more believable that he’s on her side.
“I don’t want to,” he bites back. Bucky points out that the same applies to you as well. “I’m not some breathing dildo you can use for your liking.”
“Yeah, but not so long ago you loved to fuck her on our dining table so,” you cock your head, “what’s the problem? Can the old man not get it up anymore? Do you need Viagra? I can ask Helen to get you some.”
“You fucking brat,” he growls in your direction. “One day I’ll put you over my lap and spank the life out of your bratty ass. You are frustrating and annoying.”
“Asshole.”
“I should just,” he throws his hands up, “leave you to yourself. I have no idea why I’m helping you. A bullet to my brain would be less painful."
“I can’t believe you are ruining our chance to bring the people attacking my father down over a quickie. Just put it inside a little and disappoint her like every other girl you fucked.”
“That’s what you want? How about you watch me fuck her too, huh? I bet you are a kinky bitch." He smirks at you. “Go ahead and tell me about all the dirty fantasies you have about me and my sex life.”
“You mean your non-existent sex life,” you retort, mirroring his smirk. “I heard through the grapevine that you didn’t get any lately.”
“Because of you,” he’s in your face, breathing hard. “Every woman in town believes we will marry and they are afraid of you and your father.”
“Aw, I’m cock blocking you?” you coo. “What a pity you refuse to fuck Natasha. Your dick would feel so much better after going for a ride with her.”
“I told you,” you gasp as his hand wraps around your neck. He grips your neck tightly, forcing you to look up at him. “I don’t want to fuck her.”
“Why? She’s your type.”
“Dead is not my type.”
You frown deeply. Just a few days ago Bucky and you talked about getting closer to the person who ordered the hit on you and your father through Natasha. “What do you mean by...dead?"
“Oh…did I forget to tell you she’s dead?” He smirks darkly as he watches your lips part.
“What? But we made all these plans and now…” You knit your brows together. "Wait, you killed her, didn’t you?”
“It was an accident,” Bucky leans closer to whisper in your ear. “Maybe I let slip that she’s a mole and that Natasha tried to warn your father. Pierce is no one to mess with, you know.”
“You—” you groan. “Why did you do this? That's stupid, Barnes. We had a plan.”
“Your plan included fucking Natasha.”
“Hell, I would’ve fucked her myself to get one step closer,” you huff. “You’re a coward, Barnes. Why couldn’t you fuck her…?”
“What’s done is done. I’m more of the hit them where it hurts guy. Not the one sneaking around to get information. While you made all these nice plans, Steve and I did your job.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“We caught Pierce and two of his minions. Steve has a blast interrogating them. He just loves to toy with them,” Bucky purrs in your ear. His hand tightens around your throat, making you whimper. “If only you could see yourself now. So afraid I will choke you just a little harder.”
“We already confirmed that you are not man enough, sweetie,” you grit your teeth as he loosens his hold. It only takes Bucky's hand around your neck to show you what he can do. “Do it or stop toying with me.”
“You wish I would toy with you, doll,” he chuckles. “What a pity I won’t…”
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“Alexander Pierce, in all his glory,” Steve laughs as Pierce fights the ropes holding him to a chair. “You see, Y/F/N and Y/N are my allies. They are Bucky’s allies. If you attack them, you attack us.”
“The thing is, we will let you live your pitiful life. We all tried to kill each other at least once." Bucky looks at the knives he placed on a table in front of Pierce. “What I want from you is to tell me who was involved in the hit. Who is the rat among Y/F/N's people?”
“I won’t tell you shit,” Pierce spits while talking. Even though Steve has already roughed him up over the past few hours, he refuses to give up.
“We will see." Bucky chooses one knife and wields it in front of Pierce’s face. “Did you ever hear about my talent with knives? I just love the feeling of metal cutting into skin and flesh.”
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“Why won’t you let me interrogate him, Barnes?” You pace the room, huffing as Bucky refuses to answer. “Did he give you a name?”
“Romanoff was all he said,” Bucky huffs. “He’s a tough little bastard. I give him that. But no one withstood my knives forever. I will find the mole for you…I mean your father. I will find him for your father.”
“We already knew about Romanoff,” you grunt. “Why did you get her killed? This was stupid."
“Your face is stupid.”
You giggle at Bucky’s words. “Your face is stupid, and your beard…the hair…the muscles. Why are you always wearing a suit but no tie? That’s stupid too.”
When he grips your right arm roughly, he says, "I use all my ties to restrain brats. I leave them there for me to use.”
“You’re so…” you squeak when he roughly cups your face and crushes his lips to yours. Bucky devours your mouth. The kiss is all tongue and teeth. He won’t let up until you weakly push against his shoulders. “I can’t breathe, you…”
He silences your protests with his mouth again. Bucky keeps you from running your mouth by slipping his tongue into your mouth.
His hands move to your waistline to easily lift you and slam you into the wall behind you.
“What the fuck?" You can barely catch your breath. Bucky is all over you. He forces your legs around his waistline before his mouth is back on you. His hands grip your ass roughly as you grind against his swelling length.
“Shut up for a moment," he whispers against your lips. “Just stop talking. I only want to hear you moan my name from now on.”
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In response, you fist his hair, making him growl. “If you want me to shut up, do me good, Barnes…”
>>Part 10
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(No) Reservations (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)
Author’s Note: Funny story: I started this fic back in October when I was on a work trip that I almost quit my job upon returning, and I finished this fic on my most recent work trip where I quit my job before going but stayed to see through the event I planned. If that doesn’t give you any hints, this fic is very self serving with some real-life things that happened lol (oh, how I only wish I had Matt with me for these trips). I hope you guys enjoy! :)
Summary: Even with the stress of work weighing on you, when you hear that Matt Murdock and Foggy Nelson need help on a case, you don’t miss a beat from flying back to the city after a work trip to help them. But when the stresses of work and travel become too much, Matt is at your side to ease the pain.
Warnings: Fluff (established friendship and the comfort that goes with it), angst (work stress, guilt, anxiety), swearing, there’s only one bed, smut (oral - f!receiving, p in v, unprotected [reader on birth control, but wrap it before you tap it, folks!])
Other Characters: Foggy Nelson
Word Count: 5,051
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You can’t help but roll your eyes and smile when you see Matt waiting for you at the airport, a large sign with your name in braille in his hand, a shit-eating grin on his face.
Smug ass.
“Is it safe for a blind man to be escorting someone from the airport?” you tease as you approach him with your luggage.
“Safe? Not at all,” he smiles. “Fun? Yes.”
You put your bag down, wrapping Matt in a big hug, tucking your face into the crook of his neck. “It’s so good to see you, Matty.”
“It’s good to see you too, (Y/N),” he hums, holding you just as tight. “Thank you for coming back to help with this case. I know you have a lot on your plate, and—.”
“Hey, shut up. One of my best friends in the world called me and said he needs my help with a case. You’d be hard-pressed to stop me from coming.”
A soft smile pulls at his lips before he moves to pick up your carry on. “C’mon, I’ve got a cab waiting for us.”
You grab his elbow and move to take your bag from him, but he swivels it just out of your reach.
“Nope,” he insists.
“Matt, you should be using your cane,” you counter.
“When I’ve got as good of a guide as you? What, are you gonna walk me into a sinkhole or something?”
“You never know—if you annoy me enough, anything is possible.”
The chuckle that falls from his lips is light and airy, and you can’t suppress the smile that pulls at the corners of your mouth as you both make it to the idling cab outside of the airport. After properly adjusting and giving the cabbie the address of your hotel, Matt catches you up on everything that has happened since you’ve been to New York last. Granted, it hasn’t been long at all, but with Matt, Foggy, and Karen, a lot of interesting things can happen in no time at all. He’s not quite finished with their latest non-case related drama involving a pigeon and pad thai when the cab pulls up to the hotel.
“I bet you’ll be happy to sit down,” Matt says as he moves to take your bag from the trunk.
“That is the understatement of the year,” you chuckle, taking the opportunity to pay the cabbie with Matt is preoccupied, but not without him flashing an annoyed look in your direction.
“Not cool,” he huffs. “I was going to take care of the fare.”
“Okay, the fact that you know that I was paying him is unsettling.”
“I just know you too well,” he deflects. “I do wish you’d let me be more of a help, though.”
“You’re my travel buddy—someone to talk to and someone pretty on my arm. You’re serving your purpose.”
A deep chuckle escapes Matt’s lips as you make your way through the doors and to the main desk.
“Hi, checking in,” you greet the concierge with a smile, giving her your name.
“We’re pleased to have you,” she smiles right back, typing away at the keyboard before her smile quickly drops. “I’m so sorry, Miss, but it doesn’t look like your reservation is in the system.”
“Is there any rooms available?” Matt interjects, a calming hand moving to rest on the middle of your back. “Can she just book one right now?”
“I’m so sorry, sir, but we can’t accommodate that. There’s a large convention in town, and they’ve taken up what hasn’t been booked in the system.”
You tense up, and Matt gently rubs his thumb back and forth on your back.
“It’s okay, I understand,” you say, grabbing your things and thanking the concierge before walking out of the hotel.
“You’re staying with me,” Matt says immediately. “That isn’t a request, it’s a statement of fact.”
“Matt—,” you try to protest.
“I said it wasn’t a request. I’ll take the couch and—.”
“I’m not having you sleep on the couch in your own apartment, Matt. I’ll figure something out, and—.”
“(Y/N).” He says your name so sharply, you freeze. It’s not harsh, but stern and commanding in a way he has never used around you. “You are staying at my place, and you’re taking the bed. Do you understand?”
As Matt stares at you intently with his hands on your shoulders, you feel just how tired you are, a wave of defeat rolling over you.
“Fine,” you say, and even you can hear how exhausted you sound. Matt doesn’t say another word, he just looks his arm in yours before you start on the sidewalk.
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“You sure you don’t want any more?” Matt asks, slurping up the noodle that refuses to fit into his mouth.
“I’m sure,” you tell him, wiping the soy sauce off of your mouth.
Capturing the last pieces of sesame chicken in between his chopsticks, he plops them in his mouth before piling up the containers. As he does that, you move to pull files from your bag.
“Nope, not tonight,” Matt calls from his kitchen. “You’re wiped.”
“You sure? I know this is a big case.”
“And because it’s such a big case, you need fresh eyes to look at it.” The timbre of his voice warns you not to argue with him any further.
“Well, if I need fresh eyes, would you mind terribly if I freshen up?”
A big smile pulls across Matt’s lips. “That’s more like it.”
A smile to rival his pulls on your lips as you move toward your suitcase. Unfortunately, your smile quickly fades when you see the inside of your suitcase. Although it’s in a separate plastic bag, your shampoo, conditioner, and body wash exploded everywhere, leaving you with nothing but a sticky bag that has started to ooze into the contents of the luggage.
“(Y/N)?” Matt asks, your stark stillness and silence undoubtedly concerning for him after nothing but movement. You don’t respond to his query, afraid that all your bubbling emotions won’t be able to let you finish. Against your better efforts, a sharp sob escapes your lips and large tears roll down your cheeks. Matt is quick to rush to your side and gently hold your arms. “(Y/N), what’s wrong?”
“I . . . I just—,” you sniffle before you wrap your arms around him and bury your face into his upper chest. “I can’t.”
“Deep breaths,” he soothes, smoothing down your hair. “Can you do that for me?”
You take in a shaky breath, trying to do as he asks—it doesn’t work well, but he encourages you through each cycle of inhale and exhale.
“I’m so worn,” you weep into his chest.
“(Y/N)—.”
“If I say no, it’s a detriment to my career. People keep quitting left and right, and I have to fill in for what they left. I have nothing left for myself. And then I almost missed my flight because court went long, they didn’t have my reservation, and my soap is everywhere, and I—.”
“You don’t need to say more,” Matt says softly. “If you couldn’t help for this case, if you needed time for yourself—.”
“No, Matt!” you whine, prompting yourself to cry harder.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he quickly tries to correct, wrapping you in a tighter hug, a strong hand on the back of your head as he smooths down your hair, his lips pressing firmly on the top of your head.
“I feel stuck,” you cry. “All this work for what?”
“You help people, (Y/N). People come to you worn and on the verge of breaking, and you help them put the pieces back together. It means so much to them. I’m so sorry it’s taken such a toll on you.”
“I just feel like I can’t do what needs to be done at my firm anymore. But if I leave, the same thing that happens to me happens to other people. I can’t do that to them.”
“At some point, you need to start thinking of yourself,” he whispers. “Put your needs first. And I know what you’re thinking so let me tell you—it’s not selfish in the slightest.”
You sniffle and pull back, looking up at Matt through teary eyes.
“You always know just the right things to say, don’t you?” you whisper as he tilts his head down to yours.
“You’ve told me once or twice,” he smiles softly. “You’ve also mentioned in the same breath how it’s one of my more annoying habits.”
The chuckle that you let out is wet, but you feel genuine happiness begin to grow in your chest as you laugh in Matt’s arms.
“How about you use my shampoo and things to wash the day off and I’ll see what I can do about the situation in your carry on?” he offers. “And just as a hint—I’m gonna do it regardless of what you say.”
“Thank you, Matt,” you tell him as he wipes the drying tears from your cheeks.
“Don’t mention it.”
With a final run on his hands down your arms, he lets you go and you shuffle toward the bathroom, turning on the water and letting it warm as you start to take off your clothes. Just as you’re about to unclasp your bra, you hear a soft knock at the door. “I grabbed a shirt and some pants for you to change into,” Matt says through the old wood.
As you open the door slightly, he slides his hand in just enough to deliver the clothes of his into your own grip.
“Thanks, Matt,” you tell him, your thumb brushing against his fingers before his hand drops to the knob and closes it shut.
The warm water serves as a relief when you step into his shower, the heat and steam relaxing your tense muscles. As you use Matt’s shampoo, conditioner, and body wash, you can’t help but smile as you let the gentle scent that has become so distinctly him wrap around you like a warm hug. With a little hum, you work the products into your body and rinse them off, feeling much more refreshed as you step out of the shower and slide on a well-loved Fogwell’s Gym shirt and a pair of sweatpants, both articles of clothes hanging loose on your body. Scrunching your hair dry as you walk out of the bathroom, you find Matt spreading sheets over his leather sofa, turning it into a makeshift bed.
“I really wish you wouldn’t sleep on the couch, you know,” you offer, fluffing up his pillow before placing it down by the armrest.
“It’s okay, (Y/N), really,” he assures you.
“Even if I offer to share the bed?” you try. Matt freezes the second you mention it, the muscle in his jaw feathering, making you immediately regret it. “I just want you to sleep well, that’s all.”
“You don’t think I’d get a good night’s sleep on the couch?” he tries to tease, but still clearly very nervous.
“That thing? It’s murder on your back if you sit on it too long—can you imagine what sleeping is like?” His face contorts in mock hurt to match your sass. “And I mean, we’d each have half of the bed.” The tip of his tongue peaks out over his bottom lip, and all the emotions that you felt earlier as you broke down in his arms start to bubble in a different way, making you afraid that you’ve made Matt feel uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push—.”
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he interrupts softly.
“I don’t think that’s ever a possibility with you and me.” You pick up his pillow once more. “What do you say. Sleep over?”
“Are we going to stay up all night talking about our crushes?” he jokes. There’s your Matt.
“Depends—will I have to listen to you go on about how you love Catherine Zeta Jones?”
Matt’s laugh echoes in his apartment, encapsulating you much like his shower products did only a short while ago as the reds, pinks, and yellows of the billboard outside of his apartment stream in and dance across his skin, and you can’t think of how handsome he looks.
“I’d need to have a bit more alcohol in me first,” he hums.
“Can I take that as a yes, then?”
He gives you a soft smile. “Yes, it’s a yes,” he confirms, taking the pillow from your hands before you walk to his room together, sliding under the sheets and situating yourselves on the mattress.
“Good night, (Y/N),” he hums as he pulls the sheets over your bodies.
“Sweet dreams, Matt,” you tell him, briefly placing a gentle hand on his arm. “Thank you. For everything.”
“Always,” he whispers, giving your hand a squeeze before sleep forces your eyes shut.
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When you start to wake, you feel so incredibly warm, but not to an uncomfortable degree—one that’s reassuring and cozy. The heat that joins your body has a rhythmic quality to it—a beat that matches the rise and fall of your chest. As you come to and your eyes flutter open, you notice that you and Matt are no longer on opposite sides of the bed, but tangled together in the middle, his head resting on your chest, cheek squished, ear resting right over your heart. A smile spreads on your face as you snuggle back down on him, letting out a tiny hum of contentment. The noise and vibration in your chest must be just enough to wake him however, because you hear him take a sharp inhale as he stirs against you.
“Hey, it’s okay,” you whisper, bringing a hand up to brush through his chocolate locks that are unkempt from sleep. Your touch seems to soothe him as he gently lowers his head back down to your chest. “It’s just me. Good morning, Matt.”
“G’morning,” he rasps, but he quickly puts together that he is resting his head in the valley of your breasts. “‘m sorry, I—.”
“Don’t be sorry,” you assure him as he lifts his face up to your, his gorgeous eyes working so hard and failing to land on yours. “Thank you for not sleeping on the couch.”
Matt doesn’t say anything, only moistening his lips ever-so-subtly. At some point, you both start to breathe heavily, his fingers starting to curl into the fabric of your borrowed shirt, your eyelids growing heavy with desire as he rests his forehead on yours.
“You smell like me,” he whispers before the space between your lips is closed. The kiss is needy, passionate, and filled with longing, while restrained and hesitant, as if the embrace will tear the very fabric of your friendship apart. Just as he begins to pulls away, you move to hold his head in your hands, your fingers tugging on the roots of his chocolate locks, silently telling him not to leave you yet. He moves back into the kiss, his hands sliding up your body over the borrowed sleep shirt, moaning into your mouth before giving you a little squeeze and pulling back from your lips, taking all the air from your lungs with him.
“I’m sorry,” he pants. “I shouldn’t have done that—.”
“Matt,” you interrupt, resting your hand on his cheek.
“No, I crossed a—.”
“Just shut up and kiss me again,” you tell him, the sentence somewhere between a demand and a plea. He gladly obliges, moving in to connect your lips once more as his strong hands hold onto your frame, your legs perfectly slotted together as you kiss and move against one another. Your embraces are more urgent and excited with each kiss, and once his tongue slides against your bottom lip and you open your mouth to receive him, you know you’re done for. You can’t get him close enough to you—it’s like you need him to survive. When you whimper into his mouth, he moans in response and holds you closer, something you didn’t think was possible. Your fingers tug at his hair before sliding down his back, tracing the contour of his back muscles through the thin gray t-shirt he wears before you bunch it up and pull ever so slightly. Matt easily takes the cue and pulls it off and you take the opportunity to do the same with yours, breaking your kiss for only a moment before reattaching his lips to yours and trailing over your jaw and down your neck. 
Careful and calculated kisses are mapped down your body as Matt lowers himself in the mattress, pushing the covers away. He places kisses where the waist of his sweatpants meet the skin on your pelvic bone as his hands push the soft cotton off of your body, leaving you exposed to him. His hands gently spread your legs open for him, and he places soft kisses on your inner thighs. A tiny, needy whimper escapes from your lips as he gets closer to your core, making your temperature increase with each inch he moves up.
“Angel, please,” he begs quietly, nosing against the supple flesh of your thigh. “Can I?”
“Yes,” you breathe out, moving your hands on top of his.
His hands receive yours, lacing your digits together before he places careful kisses on your mound, using his nose to gently pull at the hood of skin hiding your bundle of nerves. The way his lips wrap around your clit for a soft kiss sends an electric shock throughout your body, making your back arch and a breathy moan fall from your lips.
“Matt!” you breathe, and he squeezes your hands in response. He hums a happy response in between your legs that vibrates throughout your body, which only makes you squirm more. Your thighs begin to clench and move in on his face while his forearms fight the force and try to keep them open a little bit. “Matt, I—ooh!”
The only way that you can make it through the tickle of his beard and the ministrations of his mouth is by pinching your eyes shut.
“Mmmmm!” you moan, wriggling your pelvis against his face—motions that he happily meets with his mouth as he expertly eats you out. “Oh my-mmm.” The band in your stomach winds and twists, telling you that undeniable pleasure is moments away. You get the sense that Matt could keep using his mouth on you over and over until the end of time, but he pulls back with deep breaths as he presses kisses to your entrance, clit, and back up your body, ensuring along the way that the fleshy blobs that are your breasts are well taken care of by his mouth, his hands finally slipping from yours to rest on your waist for support as he does so.
“Matthew,” you breathe, beginning to feel just how hard he is pressing through his sweats and into your thigh. “Matthew, please.”
“I . . . I don’t think I have condoms,” he pants, disappointment evident in his voice, but that doesn’t stop him from kissing your neck.
“I-It’s okay. Birth control,” you swallow, carding your fingers through his hair once more and lifting your legs around his waist. You both groan as your crotches press together, involuntarily grinding against one another to get relief. “I need you, Matt. Please.”
“Only if you’re sure.”
You manage to lift his face from your neck, running your fingers through his fluffy hair and tracing the skin on his stubbled cheek. “I’ve never been more sure.”
You watch Matt give you a smile that could melt the coldest of hearts before he moves in and kisses you, over and over, the embraces filled with nothing but affection. When he finally pulls back, he works to get his pants and boxers off, and you sit up to try and help him, taking his rock hard cock in your hand, pumping him a few times and making him groan at your touch. His body jolts when your thumb whips over his weeping tip, and he leans forward to cage your body underneath his.
“Matt, let me—,” you try, and he nuzzles his nose against yours.
“Sweetheart, please,” he whispers, kissing the corner of your mouth. “I just want to take care of you. Let me take care of you.”
Rather than use your words, you spread your legs wide for him and pull him in for another kiss. Getting the message, one hand rests on the side of your neck while the other holds onto your waist as he carefully begins to push in. The stretch is incredible—satisfying and painful, but the only thing you will ever want for the end of time. Every inch that he pushes in is tantalizing, making sure that his cock gets absolutely coated by your arousal until he can’t push in any further.
“Are you okay?” he breathes, pressing feather-light kisses all over your neck and lips.
You nod your head furiously on the pillow. “Move, Matty,” you whimper. “I need you to move.”
“I need you to say it first, angel,” he pleas as he continues to draw out his gentle kisses on your face. “You’re okay?”
“I’m okay,” you confirm. “I promise.”
“Okay,” he hums with a kiss, dragging his hips back slowly, almost all of the way out before he pushes back in carefully. Both of your moans are soft, quiet, and needy as he fills you back up over and over.
“Matt,” you groan. “You’re so big, Matty. You feel so good. Fill me so good.”
“You feel perfect, angel,” he gravels, his voice like honey dripping all over your body. “So tight. Made for me.”
The sex is slow and languid, allowing both of you to work through your sleepy state and feel every last millimeter of each other’s body.
“Faster,” you plea into the warm skin of his neck. “Faster, please, Matt. More.”
Matt moans as a response, matching his movements to your request. The sounds of your slapping skin begin to fill the room more prominently along with the squeaking mattress. The grip that Matt has on your body tightens, his kisses becoming a little more pointed on your body.
“Hold on, angel,” Matt tells you, never once faltering.
You barely have time to process what he is tells you when he flips your bodies over so that you’re on top, straddling his waist, as he lays gloriously below you. You smile at the sight, leaning down to kiss him, your hands trailing over the stubble on his cheeks. As Matt resumes his thrusts, he hits new angles and new hidden spots, making you whimper in delight.
“Let me ride you,” you breathe, letting the thought spill out before giving much though to the phrase. Matt makes a face like you just told him the best news in the world. He stops his thrusts and moves his hands down your body and to your thighs, soothingly running them over the skin as you begin to bounce and move back and forth.
Matt looks like he was sculpted from the finest marble by the hand of God Himself. Every dip and curve in his skin is perfect, the scars the litter his torso not detracting from him in the slightest. The perfect pout of his lips, the way his eyes flutter shut—hell, even the hair on his arms is perfect. And you get to be with him.
You don’t recognize just how fast you’re going until you feel his thumb find your clit and he begins rubbing, halting your movements slightly by making your body jolt with pleasure.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he breathes, bringing his other hand back up to your hips to help you resume your pace. “I’m right here, sweetheart. You’re doing so good.”
As you continue to rock against him, you feel the pressure build in your tummy, needing to lean forward and brace yourself on his abdomen with your hands.
“Matt,” you grunt softly. “Matt, I-I’m . . . Fuck, I’m close.”
“I know, angel,” he pants. “Take what you need from me. Cum, sweetheart, cum for me.”
With a few more motions of your hips and tight, calculated circles of his thumb, you pinch your eyes shut and practically fall on top of Matt as you come around him. Your fingers rake angry red lines into his skin as you cry out at the top of your lungs, drowning out the wet sounds coming from your pelvises. With his arms wrapped around you as you quiver, he sits up so you are situated in his lap, your hands on his shoulders as he keeps thrusting up in you.
“You feel so good, squeezing my cock like that, angel,” he breathes into your neck, marking up your skin with his lips and teeth before dipping to pay the same kind of attention to the tops of your breasts. “Fuck, you’re so soft, (Y/N).”
You just whine and moan in response to his words, still coming down from your high as he thrusts, but feeling another wave of pleasure approaching with a fury. You bring your hands to the sides of his face and crash your lips to his, your tongues fighting for dominance as you each try to get closer to one another. Matt’s large hands spread over the globes of your ass, a loud spank echoing in the room as he smacks the jiggling flesh.
“Shit,” you mutter against his lips. “Fuck, you’re perfect.”
“Beg to differ,” Matt pants. “That’s you.”
Turning the two of you around on the mattress once more, Matt throws your legs over his shoulders and thrusts into you, making you feel every inch of his dick and letting the tip hit your cervix, making you cry out with each thrust.
“(Y/N),” he moans. “(Y/N), I’m gonna cum.”
“Lemme feel you, Matty,” you breathe onto his neck, feeling goosebumps on his skin as the hot air trails toward the shell of his ear. “Cum in me, Matty.”
With his face buried into the side of your neck, his lips attached to your sweet spot at the juncture of your neck and jaw, Matt’s hips begin to thrust erratically before coming to a halt. You feel Matt fill you with his hot seed as he moans through the pleasure before placing gentle kisses all over your skin, embracing your neck, cheek, and nose before joining with your lips once more. You kiss one another softly as you come back down from your highs and steady your breathing, and you cherish how he holds you in his arms. He groans and you sigh when he pulls his hips away from yours, leaving you empty and letting his cum dribble out of you as you unfold. Your legs slot together and tangle as you remain close together under the sheets.
“I think I’ve been waiting to do that for a long time,” he says softly as his hand gently runs up and down your arm.
“I think I’ve been waiting for you to for just as long,” you respond.
“Too scared to make the first move?”
“Too scared you never felt the same way.”
He rests his forehead on yours, dexterous fingers tucking hair behind your ear. “I guess that makes two of us,” he whispers.
“But we’ve done it now,” you say, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “I’m glad that we did.”
He presses a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. “I’m glad we did, too.”
You snuggle into his chest, taking in the delicious scent of his skin as he wraps in arms around you. You’re not situated like this for long before Matt’s phone rings, calling out Foggy’s name in its robotic tone.
“Hey, Fog,” he says, putting it on speaker to resume your position.
“Hey! Have you heard from (Y/N)? She’s not at the hotel,” Foggy asks. “I called and they said they didn’t have a guest by that name there.”
“Yeah, it was a whole thing,” he sighs. “They lost her reservation, and, well, she had a really rough day yesterday between travel and everything.”
“Then where is she?”
Matt gently drags his thumb across your cheek. “Still asleep in my room. After the day she had, there was no way in hell I’d make her sleep on the couch.”
“Ever the gentleman,” he chuckles, his voice dripping in sarcasm.
“Listen, man,” Matt says, matching your friend’s tone. “Give us a couple more hours and we’ll be down in the office with everything. She just needs a little more rest.”
“Alright, sounds good. See you then, buddy.”
“Bye, Fog,” Matt stretches, hanging up the phone.
“Still sleeping, huh?” you chuckle.
“You sound sleepy, sweetheart. It wouldn’t be a crime if you fell back asleep for a bit. Besides, I can’t have you making a liar out of me.”
“It’d eat away at my conscience,” you smirk, playing along with him as you make one final adjustment in his hold.
“See? Can’t have that.”
“But, you see,” you trail as you press your lips into his neck, leaving a path of slow, wet kisses on his skin until my lips are by his ear. “I’m not tired anymore.”
Matt’s laugh vibrates underneath your lips, twisting his body over yours to keep you warm.
“Is there anything I can do to change your mind about that, sweetheart?”
“Keep calling me ‘sweetheart’ and find out. And just so you know, I’ve always slept better on my stomach,” you whisper, gently nipping at his earlobe.
With a big smile, Matt twists and kisses you once more, slipping his tongue into your mouth to let you know about his agenda on how he plans to help you keep him honest.
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kiwanopie · 1 year
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reader in the crime lord kiyoomi au who's kinda like csm's kobeni
she can get twitchy (minus the bawling) when she gets a front seat of "business" but...BUT...
when the situation calls, she can brandish out a knife and kill if she needs to
then switches back to neurotic once it's over but she doesnt have to worry. kiyoomi is there btw
He knew you were a scout, knew you had the reputation to back it up.
But he thought you just were hard to catch.
“We had a deal.”
Kiyoomi crosses his arms from where he’s standing at the head of his office, back perched against the ledge of his desk as his former associate stands opposed before him - along with his fleet.
He should be scared. He is scared. A man of Ichiro’s stature, with a reputation like his. A fleet of six men that produce a mountain of bodies collectively, the unbeatables. Men like him who promise pain and suffering in the wake of death, now double-crossing him with the intentions of taking everything he has or to die trying. To be on the wrong side of this man is to be marked for death - or worse. His hands are in charged fists resting at his sides, with the full intent of using them. And whatever fate is meant for Kiyoomi and his men, has been so promised to be worse than death.
He’s petrified. But he’s more proud than to show it, vexed then to show it. And his expression twists sourly as he stares at the man smirking before him.
“And I did what you wanted, didn’t I?” Ichiro shrugs. “I helped you get your money, you helped me get my guys out of the pen.”
“Then what’s the big fuckin’ show about?” Atsumu scoffs beside him.
Ichiro glances at the young woman perched securely behind Kiyoomi’s desk, hair curled and pretty as you look upon the crowd with curious alarm. Pretty fucking thing puts the cherry on top of all the cushy shit this tall bastard’s got. Riches and power, control over the most valuable assets in Japan and now this pretty fucking dame? It’s been too long he’s spent looking at this mean mugging bastard and seeing him have all the things that he wants - all the things that should belong to him. And now that he’s got his boys?
Kiyoomi’s scowl deepens when he follows the man’s gaze, as if some ugly freak should have the audacity to stare at his angel like that.
He plants his hands on his desk, leaning forward a bit as if it’ll make him bigger.
“You’re making a big fucking mistake.”
Ichiro snorts. “You think you can scare me? There’s not a single ounce of me that doesn’t see you as the conniving little mouse you are.”
Kiyoomi doesn’t flinch when he inches forward, barely reacts when his men reach for their guns.
“I’m gonna take what belongs to me.”
“You’re gonna come up empty handed.” Kiyoomi replies firmly. Something clicks behind him, one of his men mumbles something under their breath, but whatever should come his way is sullied by something that remains sure.
“I have contingencies.” It won’t save him but it’s the truth. “You kill me and you lose any chance at getting what you want.”
“Then I won’t kill you.” Ichiro shrugs. “There’s worse things I could do anyway.”
“Oh, I bet. That’s why I’m not worried.”
Kiyoomi huffs as he leans into his desk, eyes gazing lowly at Ichiro from where he stands above him. There’s a snark in his grimace, a smugness that pinkens the morale of the men who surround him. He keeps his face in his truths and puffs out his chest a little. - Even as his number two glances at him like he knows it’s hollow.
“Because a meathead like you could never fit in a position like this.” He crosses his arms again. “You’re not careful, you can’t manage deals. You think all of your problems can be solved with brute force.”
Ichiro scowls as he continues. “You wanna know how I got as far as I have? Why I have all the things you think belong to you? Because I’m not just some sadistic freak, I’m a businessman. I know how to carry a conversation, I know how to follow basic fucking directions. I would’ve at least had the two cents to make my foe an ally before double crossing him. - But you’re a stranger.”
“You’re a pig that shit his way into my office, too focused on the smell of his own ass to realize he’s like every other hog who thinks he’s special,”
“You’re filth.” Kiyoomi shakes his head. “And you’re out of your fucking mind if you think anyone’s gonna see you as anything else besides that.“
Ichiro glares blankly at Kiyoomi as the room falls into a tense silence. There’s a taut pull in the air that becomes ear popping as the feelings linger. Every man in this office has become so fraught with alarm that they’ve all frozen in place, breaths now so shallowed that they’ve become restricted. Everyone’s waiting on the other to make the first move, and with Ichiro so locked up like he is, Kiyoomi can’t make heads or tails of who it’s gonna be.
Maybe that’s the point.
Because Ichiro’s arm comes up so fast that Kiyoomi barely sees him do it. Distended veins stress as he distributes the weight into the single arm, and steps forward like he’s putting his all into it.
Ichiro is known for being strong, he’s known for being the bull of underground Japan. They say there’s nothing he hasn’t put a hole in by now, nothing his fists can’t chew through like construction paper. It’s why he never gets caught, you’d be out of your fucking mind to stop a wrecking ball like that with your bare hands.
Which is why Kiyoomi’s surprised when he’s not immediately grated into ground beef when the punch lands, when it never lands. - Closing his eyes at that hard gust of wind that follows after a loud crack! So forceful that it rushes into his nose and takes his breath away.
When his eyes flutter open he’s nearly so taken aback that he gasps. His arms unfold and he’s suddenly placing all of his weight on his feet.
Your arms are bruised already, from the ridges of your wrist to the low of your elbow. Crossed arms blocked in a shielded maneuver that reflects the soft lights of his office. You stopped his punch. All but materialized in front of him and stopped The Bull’s punch. Not even Bokuto had the means to do something like that.
And from the looks of it everyone’s too shocked by it to do anything, even Ichiro freezes in place.
Your face scrunches somewhat painfully as you look upon his offender, eyes still lit in evening light as you keep your arms held securely in front of you.
Kiyoomi opens his mouth and then closes it again, leans forward to reach for you as he gathers himself in awe.
And then freezes when Ichiro starts to move again.
He’s quick. “..You think you can-“
You’re quicker.
The sound of his fingers breaking is less alarming than the sound of meat tearing, than the look on his face when he hunches and his knife - Kiyoomi’s knife that you must have swiped from his desk without him knowing - is keeping him from doubling forward. His blood stains the carpet.
Your expression remains unchanged as his eyes well up with tears. You're an unstoppable force as you raise the other hand up high and his coughed out plea comes out gurgled.
It takes one swipe to have him pouring out before you.
There’s a bubbled out giggle of disbelief that Atsumu doesn’t even notice he’s let out as his blood stains the office floors. Flesh and meat fall with a hiss as it lands on the carpet and he’s gone like he never existed.
Kiyoomi chokes out bewilderedly. “Wha-… Baby-“
One of his men charges forward.
He barely even gets the chance to step forward when the sharp sound of a moving blade cuts through the room. You’re so fast that he barely sees you touch him. But he knows you have when he stops in place.
He stumbles back from the lack of air as the members of his fleet look on in muted horror, reaches for his neck and panics when his fingers come back wet. I mean he knows you’re fast, everyone does. It’s half the reason you made elite quotas. That’s not surprising.
No, the surprise comes - and what he assumes is the other half of what graduated you to elite status - is when he finally falls to his knees. Blood pooling as he gushes and steaming in the conditioned air.
You all but decapitated him.
Kiyoomi takes a few disbelieving steps back as Atsumu literally gasps this time, smiling with his mouth open like an excited fanboy as you look upon the dying man with indifference - and watches his body limply drop to the ground.
The five opposing men freeze in place as his body meets the same fate as their leader.
You’re soft as cotton when you look up at Kiyoomi. “Are you okay?”
He blows a raspberry.
“Am I-… Angel you-… Your arms,” Kiyoomi worriedly reaches for you. “Oh my god, your arms. Let me see. How much do they hurt-“
Atsumu kisses his teeth at the five shaken men now standing still at the door. “Does anyone else wanna die?”
He glances at his boss, currently fitted into the role of a worried husband in front of all these dangerous men. This guy really doesn’t have any shame.
“Any of you idiots still ready to go against us step forward.” He scowls. “You see what happens!”
No one speaks up.
“Then get the fuck outta here!”
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apinchofm · 5 months
Text
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first meeting/modern au - edwina sharma x prince friedrich
for @tarrynmj
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"This is an expensive dress."
"As is this watch, perhaps that's why we are stuck like this."
Edwina cannot help but giggle at the situation. Leaving her hotel room, carrying multiple bags herself, plus her own clutch, was not the best idea. The dress, a deep pink with wide sheer sleeves was beautiful when she bought it.
She had not expected to bump into a stranger and get stuck to him. Sophie had said the dress would help her pull - Edwina did not think that she meant this!
The stranger was more amused than anything.
"Let's see," He hums gently as he works to unhook the material from his timepeice. A small thread had hooked itself onto the small movement.
"It is a beautiful watch." Edwina compliments weakly.
"It was my father's." He tells her.
He managed to unhook them, "Well, he was rather a, ah, lothario?" He says, "I do hope this was not one of his tricks."
"Um, I'm Edwina." She introduced.
"Freddie." He shook her hand and then looked at the time, "Ah, good, not late at all."
She gently grabbed his wrist to see that it was nearly six and cursed quietly whilst Freddie raised an eyebrow amused.
"Late for a meeting? Let me guess, an accountant?" Freddie asked.
"Oh, but this is all the rage at Barclays!" Edwina jokes, "No, it's my sister's bachelorette party." She began to pick up the glittery party bags.
"Here let me help. It is the least I can do." He takes four of the six bags and they walk to the elevator together as Edwina tries to avoid direct eye contact.
"These are beautiful party favors," Freddie says.
"Oh, I put them together - a little something for my sister and the group," Edwina explained.
"Slippers?" He gestures to the fluffy items wrapped in plastic.
"You do not know the pain of wearing heels for hours on a night out, do you?"
He clicked his tongue, "Second year of undergrad refreshers week - I won a bet." He says. She giggles. Stand up! Edwina scolded herself.
"You must be really close to be doing all this?" Freddie asked.
Edwina shrugs, "It's nothing. Kate, she would do the same. She's always taken care of me and I just want all of this to go well. For her to have so much fun before going on to have more fun. And I love planning things. And gift bags. This was perfect for me!"
Freddie smiled gently at her enthusiasm as she looked away, her face warm with embarrassment.
"I am the eldest myself." He tells her, "My sister is still in school - uh, year 12? She wants to be a vet and wants me to get married so she can wear a ball gown."
"Oh good for her. You are a cruel brother, depriving her of the occasion!" Edwina playfully gasped.
He grinned, "I am just awful. What about you?"
"What about me?"
"Will your sister be struggling with gift bags with slippers and candy anytime soon?"
"I'm not the greatest at dating." Edwina said sheepishly, "I mean, I have been on dates but..." She shuts her eyes in embarrassment as she rambles and stutters.
But Freddie wasn't teasing or judgmental, smirking and said, "You are single. Good. I still have a chance."
They reached the ground floor and he dutifully followed her to the hotel bar and restaurant to the booked table.
Kate was at the bar, dressed in a mini silver dress and excited to see her sister escorted by a very handsome man.
Kate mouthed 'who's the hot guy?' from behind and Edwina's eyes widened in embarrassment.
"Thanks." She said shyly to Freddie who grinned.
"Have a fun night," He said with a wink and then left, but not before looking back at the funny woman in pink.
Kate smirked, then deepened her voice, "Have a fun night," She said mockingly, "I think he wanted to have a good night with you."
"Shut up. He was just a nice man." Edwina scolded and decided to distract her sister by waving her goody bag in front of her face which only worked momentarily.
"You are beautiful, bon. Thank you for all of this."
"Well, how else shall I celebrate your first marriage?" Edwina teased, making her laugh.
"Anyway, who was the cute man?"
Edwina shrugged, "I don't know. Our rooms are next to each other."
"Ooh, maybe it's fate!" Kate teased.
Edwina shook her head but there was a part of her that hoped so. She didn't realize that Freddie felt the same way.
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