stevendameron

[stevendameron]

Imagine being the one chained to Luis Serra instead of Leon and he’s flirting with you the entire time.

“So, uh, you come here often?”

If your back wasn’t to him, he’d be on the receiving end of a pointed look asking him if he was being serious right now. Instead, you opted to get up from the ground where you sat and assess the current situation. The cuffs around your wrists are attached to a heavy chain that seems to hang overhead and you follow the length of it with your eyes until they stopped to another set of metal cuffs clamped around the man that was speaking to you. He was already standing by the time you take account of his attention on you, his grey eyes slowly taking you in before a playful, lascivious smile curves upon his chiseled face.

“Gracias a Dios. Glad they stuck me with someone so attractive,” he says before dropping to a low bow. The gesture seemed awkward due to his bound hands but it did little to dampen the dramatic flair he exuded. “Luis Serra. Encantado.”

You immediately recognized him as the man in the sack that you and Leon found in a basement before being knocked unconscious by some giant of a man. This Luis was a talker then too despite his apparently ever changing and unfortunate predicaments. He must have quite a story to tell and perhaps can be of use to your mission.

Pinning the thought to question him after you have freed both of you of your shackles, you look up at the mount that kept the chain suspended and give the metal a firm tug. The action catches the Spaniard off guard as he is dragged towards you.

“Easy, my friend. If you wanted me to come closer, all you had to do was ask.”

No amount of willpower could stop your eyes from rolling.

“Do you ever stop talking?” Your words set off a spark in his eyes and you realize your mistake too late.

Luis smiles, “Ah, so you finally speak! Any more of the silent treatment and I was about to start serenading you with sign language.”

Thankfully your focus on your mission outweighed your curiosity at imagining this man dexterously using his hands and fingers to communicate with you, feeling the support for the mount give slightly. Another tug and this time Luis seemed prepared for it as he braced himself in place, the sound of the mount straining against the chain finally catching his attention.

“Ah, I see your thinking. Muy bien.”

With him finally coming up to speed on your intentions, the man met your strength with each pull upon the chain, the support nails keeping the mount up gradually weakening. Sweat was beginning to pour down your brow. Just a few more…

“May I have your name?”

The question made you stop in your efforts.

“What?”

“Your name. I’d like to know what to call you.” The damn smile widened as he spoke, evidently amused at your responses to him.

“What does it matter?” You tried to hide your increasing excitement with indifference, he didn’t seem at all put off by this.

Luis shrugs, “Given that I introduced myself to you in such gentlemanly fashion, I’d expect the same courtesy in turn. It’s only fair, sí?”

He made a point, but of course rather than answer him, you gathered the chain in your hands for one final pull and was grateful he had the sense to pull back. The mount and chain fall to the floor with a loud clank and Luis was on his back once again from using too much force.

“¡Mierda!” He groans and you couldn’t help the smirk creeping on your cheeks. “You’re very good at playing hard to get.”

You were about to offer him a snide apology as he moved to stand up once more but saw an infected coming towards him with an axe swinging. Quick to react, you drag Luis towards you and the unsuspecting Spaniard collapses to his knees before you. He looks up at you and you would have thought he’d be annoyed if not for the playful grin he continued to wear.

“This isn’t exactly my ideal place to be tossed around. I’d prefer somewhere much softer, but if you insist-“

“Shut up and brace!”

Using the chain, you make fast work of wrapping it around the infected man attacking you two and effectively snap his neck. Luis swiftly rushes over to the body as soon as it collapsed and searched through their pockets. He finds the key and unlocks his cuffs. You were about to take it from him to remove yours but he steps back and uses his long arms to keep it out of your reach.

“Give it here, Luis Serra.” Despite the obvious mirth in your voice, the man appeared pleased at the sound of his name on your tongue.

“Of course, my friend, but first,” he started, playing with the key between his fingers for you to see, “I have a proposition.”

If looks could kill, he’d be dead right now. “You being serious?”

“Mi luz, know that I’m always serious. Especially when it involves someone with a face like yours.”

You sincerely hoped that the heat burning on your cheeks was from the adrenaline of just killing an enemy and not at all from his charming words. Luis took your sigh of defeat as a sign to keep going.

“Obviously you’re not a local. But, lucky for you, I happen to know the area like the back of my hand.” He twists his hand, dangling the key into your view for emphasis. The scoff he earned from you made him laugh.

“We can help each other, keep each other safe. I watch your back,” his lecherous gaze makes a shameless journey over your form before stopping at your hips. You made a point not to turn or twist your body in any way. “You watch mine.”

Just as you were about to tell him off, he continued, “And who knows, perhaps we can reunite you with your agent friend and rescue a certain señorita?”

A thousand alarms went off in your head. Luis definitely knew more than he let on. It was always your intention to question him, but now you realize that you weren’t the one holding the cards between you two and the shit-eating grin he wore showed that he’s well aware of this fact. Countless curses flooded your mind at how ridiculous this situation is, but the rational part of you knew that this idea was the most logical course of action. You needed to find Leon (assuming he is still alive somewhere) and finish the mission. This is what you rationalized and not at all because Luis’ incessant attention was beginning to grow on you. After a long moment of contemplation, you sigh.

“Fine,” you acquiesced, making sure the displeasure in your tone was evident even though there was none in your heart. The smile he gave you radiated throughout his entire being and warmed you from the inside.

“¡Excelente! We are partners, then!”

Assuming that was the end of the exchange, you move over to grab the key from his hand. Once again, Luis pulls it out of your reach. This was getting frustrating.

“What now?”

The man deflects your sharp tone with a click of his tongue, a teasing glint in his grey eyes. You were about to start threatening him until you felt an unexpected tug around your wrists, your whole body tumbling forward until your hands forcefully made contact with his firm chest. The sight of his other hand gripping the middle of your cuff catches your attention.

When the hell did this man grab a hold of your shackles?

Instinct kicked in to hit him but before you could regain your composure to do so, you feel the warmth of long slender fingers against your skin. His thumb caressing gently against the exposed part of your arm below your wrist before wrapping around to keep you firmly in place. He finally brings the key down in the space between you two, inserting it in the lock but not twisting it.

You cast an impatient glare up at him and fell into the trap of his gaze. The way he looked at you suggested that he had been watching you the entire time he brought you to press against him and you noticed then that he no longer wore the chesire cat grin. His voice reaches your ears, low and husky.

“I still didn’t catch your name.”

.

.

.

A/N: hope you enjoyed that ;) spicy continuation can be found here.

[stevendameron]

Luis Sera Having A Crush On You Would Include...

Request: I don't have anything specific to request but I totally 100% would die for some spicy Luis headcanons!!!

Ngl I would climb this man like a tree so I kind of expanded this into some cute and spicy ones as well, I hope you enjoy as much as I enjoyed writing these! ;)

This takes quite a long time to write, so if you enjoy, please leave a comment/ reblog, it really helps me!!

Warning: some spicy headcanons, some sexual allusions, mentions of guns, mentions of injury and blood, mentions of smoking, some light swearing!

(I do not own Resident Evil or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @stdismas.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

When you radioed Hunnigan to let her know you may drop off the map because you had been tied up, you had no idea that the words would become so literal.

Groggily waking up to a firm back pressed against your own and rapid unintelligible Spanish babbling in your ear wasn't what you first expected when you and Leon had touched down in Valdelobos for the mission, but after the morning you've had you're little surprised. As you feel around your wrists to try and find out if you've been bound or chained to the ceiling of this quaint little sub-room, you're pleasantly surprised that said annoyed person behind you hasn't thrown an axe at you yet. It was only when you pulled at steel chain and the man suddenly stopped talking with a 'woAH' to come flying into your face that events started to become a little more unusual.

'Good morning sleeping beauty, ha!' You finally have full view of the man whose swinging before you, the toes of his dusty boots barely touching the ground and the firm chest held behind his tight leather jacket swaying uneasily against your own. Whiskey coloured curls hide inquisitive eyes, and as soon as he realises you're conscious he abandons whatever futile attempts he was trying in tugging off his cuffs to instead grin fully at you. 'Can I give you a kiss now, and you'll turn me into a prince?' He wiggles his eyebrows at you, wetting his bottom lip with the edge of his tongue as his body bounces against you again.

You yank at the chain, doing your best to keep your face professional as the wheels bounce over the beam and the man comes knocking into your face, held up only by your upper arm strength and a leg you wrap courteously around his quads to keep him balanced. 'You're mixing up your fairy tales. You telling me you're a frog?' You let him drop to the ground with an unceremonious thud as you break free, and Luis has to pretend, with his ass handed to him on the cobbled floor, that as you walk past him he didn't enjoy every single second of that.

When you finally find Leon desperately sifting through your stolen belongings in the next room over, the relief immediately floods his eyes as he pulls you into a tight hug. When he sees Luis following you like a puppy from over your shoulder, though, you can hear him sigh against your shoulder. Said shoulder which soon had Luis' hand firmly pressed against it.

'He won't stop touching my shoulder', you groan to Leon.

'I know. He does that', he replies with a tighter squeeze.

Luis was incredibly good at making your next meeting seem like just happenstance.

It wasn't as if he had scoped you out for miles down the rocky tracks, his heart hammering in times to the bells that rang out from his old church. It wasn't as if he had 'borrowed' a pair of binoculars from his new found friend Ada, and had watched you bring down Del Lago with an embarrassingly loud cheer and punch of the air. It wasn't as if he had been sitting leisurely behind this boat house playing with his lighter for half an hour, brain torn between getting back to his lab, and his heart's plea to see you again.

You're less than astonished when the man jumps out at you with his arms out at his sight, immediately cocky when he spots your magnum raised up towards his face. 'Now now, my princess. If you shoot me now, then how will we ever transform this magical kingdom, ey?' You're even less surprised when he wraps an arm around your shoulder, murmuring into your ear about how he's going to be like some knight in shining armour as you holster your gun and let him lead you further off into the wilderness of the village.

He's constantly asking you questions, though, when the two of you brave a stop to take stock of your ammo reserves and to charter the maps Hunnigan sent over to you. Luis just perches next to you on a free boulder, gently rubbing his pointer finger and thumb over his jawline, and watching you with something akin to enthrallment rising through his weary face. Although he tries to make them sound flirty, you can see the seriousness in his usual light-hearted expressions, beginning to become aware of his subtleties: in the way his eyes crinkle for a moment when the words leave his lip, or the give away of his leather shifting as his fingers clench where they're crossed underneath his armpits.

You shake it off as you answer him honestly, not realising that this is the first time since he was a child that anyone had ever talked to him as him. Not as a runaway. Not as a profit. Not as a monster. Not as a threat. Not as a joke. Just as... Luis. Something tight clenched in his heart, and as he nodded along to your answer, he found himself beginning to flush at how nice it felt.

It becomes a running joke between the two of you that whenever a villager tries to hit you with a lit torch, he asks if you 'have a light?'

Speaking of, when the two of you end up by one of the rundown boathouses littering the lake side, he leans his leg back against one of the boards to light a smoke. With a confused tilt of his head, his eyes suddenly widen when you stop his hand from playing with his lighter, stealing the cigarette out of his mouth. Instead, you cup your hands around the knuckles of his larger ones and lower your head down to light the end of the cigarette.

He fidgets, a knowing look on his face as he tries to hide how turned on he's become, how incredibly tight his jeans suddenly seem to feel when you let go and take a drag. Before he can reach for your lips to steal it back, though, you throw the cigarette into the lake with a wink, leaving him feeling only all the more turned on.

But Luis is also incredibly protective of you!! When you're being surrounded by hordes of angry plagas villagers in a derelict cabin, the man is constantly jumping in your way with all guns ablazing. It starts to frustrate you how, without any formal training or without any bloody protective gear he keeps shielding you from pitchforks with only his pecs to protect him. He just laughs, pulling you behind him and throwing off your aim as he holds a shard of broken bookcase out in front of him like a lance. Whenever you climb the stairs to kick down some of the ladders on the second floor, Luis is hot on your heels like your own personal talkative shadow. Thankfully though, while you were busy trying to lift the bed and shove it back against the shards of a newly broken window, Luis was there to notice a villager's head splat open and tentacles sprout out of it right behind your back. With a cry, he pounces himself at them, narrowly avoiding you getting a lash to the face as he uses his weight to knock them off the balcony.

You repay him by sliding your leg forward and managing, just in time, to stop his arms waving and his staggering legs from falling over the edge as well by grabbing the collar of his jacket and hauling him back onto you.

'See senorita?', he asks between pants, the two of you collapsed down onto the floor with Luis lying between your legs. He lets his head leisurely loll down onto the joint at the top of your thigh, letting his open palm fall over your knee. 'Nothing to it!' You roll your eyes, but even he notices the relief flood through your uneasy body when he uses his free hand to reach up and touch your face. At first you jump, not expecting the warm buzzing feeling of his fingertips holding your chin, but you slowly relax as he tilts your head back and forth. There's an intensity in his eyes that you haven't seem from him before, as he swipes a bead of blood away from the cut on your lower lip without a second thought. A kind of fury, but also... a hint of guilt racking through his head as he makes sure you're alright.

You can bet your ass though that as soon as you heft him back up onto his feet, he refuses to go out the door. Instead, he hops up on top an antique wine barrel, and pouts his lips at you. He whines like a kicked puppy until you agree to fix up his wounds now, and to kiss them all better.

'Absolutely not', you say through a smile, coming to stand in between his legs. He goes uncharacteristically still when you reach up to cradle his face, an almost imperceptible huff of air hitching through his nostrils when you tilt his cheek further into your palm. He rests his head heavily, the corner of his lips twitching up as he rubs his stubble against your skin and tickles you. 'Cut it out or I'll be sewing your eyelid to your ass', you warn him, pointing a needle you managed to worm out of your side pack at his nose. He just smiles, watching you work as if you were made of pure starlight itself. As you finish off by crushing up some green herb, you can feel his thick thighs begin to move tighter against your legs, effectively trapping you against his hip.

'I-I'm going to need you to open your mouth', you state, trying your damn best to not give Luis the satisfaction of hearing your voice go hoarse.

'If that's what you've wanted me to do, mi amorcito, all you had to do was ask.' Although he cocks his head at you, he can't help but drop his eyes, desire burning through every electric inch of his body as he drops his bottom lip open. It feels like an eternity as you gingerly press the stalks of herb down onto the point of his tongue, not helped by the way Luis' irises are trained solely onto your own for every second. You don't mean to, but your pointer finger brushes against the plumpness of his lip as you pull away, and you turn your head away with a furious blush when Luis swipes at the spot, leaving a wet trail against it.

You turn to pack up and leave, but he suddenly stands up and grabs onto your arm tightly. He leans sideways until he's almost over you, his brow furrowed as he searches your eyes for an answer he's terrified to find. 'Hey, I won't leave you here, you know? I promise, I'm not going to leave again.'

'Why are you doing this?', you ask tensely. 'Why are you following me?'

He swallows thickly, weighing up whether to confess his truth to you or not. After a moment, he sighs, too afraid at what you might do. 'You are a guest! It would be rude not to take you on a tour of all the hotspots in the village.' Although you roll your eyes, you can't help the way you start to smile at his cheesiness. He begins chuckling too, but you don't notice the way the tips of his ears burn with a crimson flush as he spins his pistol and places it back into his holster, looking up at the ceiling uncertainly.

When it starts raining, he immediately offers you his jacket, quick to unzip it and place it over your head. That is, until you elbow him in the ribs once he asks for 'some of your clothing in return, of course ;)'.

Since you've grown to warily trust the man, you believe him when he leads you into a dank smelling cavern underneath some of the huts, telling you that he miraculously knows of a way to move underneath the monsters undetected. Which is how you found yourself climbing up a well in a densely shrouded area by an incredibly sticking looking altar, running away from a man wielding a chainsaw, and sitting on a very content looking Luis shoulders as you clambered into the musty attic of what used to be the village chief's manor. Flicking your torch through the gloom, you were surprised to step on a cracked frame. Picking it up, you were even more surprised when you ran your thumb over the grime to clear the image of a young boy sitting next to his grandfather. A young boy, who even at that age had such strikingly distinctive... familiar characteristics. A young boy who, as you placed the photo down on a cabinet and began to flick through the pages of a withered journal lying next to it, had been through such grief and horror that you were amazed he was so nonchalantly peering through the rafters next to it.

No, no. That wasn't it. He was good, you had to give him that. He must have spent a long time projecting this image. Perfecting this façade. Wrapping himself up so tightly in his fairy tales of knights and princesses and magical lands, that he almost believed it himself. Almost. But it seemed almost innate with you: the ability to notice his giveaways. To notice the real him. The way his shoulders were slightly hunched, as if guarding himself from bad memories: the way his eyes flitted just ever so minutely around the room, as if a cold grip of fear was squeezing at his lungs: the way, that in all the time you had been standing there watching him, he had noticed the photograph and now refused to look your way.

'You-', you start, not entirely sure what to say. 'This is you? You're from this village? You, you-'

He looks so desolate, so horrifyingly sad as he deflates onto the edge of a desk that you can't even finish the sentence, let alone get to the accusations of his work with Umbrella. Instead, your eyes sweep over the last page of the diary, feeling your heart breaking at the loneliness and confusion this poor man must have felt for so long.

'You were trying to help', you finally murmur out through clenched teeth. 'You are trying to help', you soften, turning your body to face him with furrowed eyebrows. 'That's why you're following me.'

'I might have been', he shrugs, but even that motion seems to take all the energy out of him. He feels different now, more clear, more truthful as he folds his hands out in front of his lap. 'Maybe, at the start. But it's not just that. I'm a selfish man, senorita. Look!'

He throws an arm out towards the window with a faux smile, pointing an accusatory finger at the lingering hoards of torch wielding villagers that are stumbling through the fallen cast iron gates. 'See how well I did at saving them! No, no.' He rubs the bridge of his nose, before glancing crestfallen at the picture frame behind your arm. 'I'm no hero. I'm selfish. I decided a long while ago, mi amor, that I enjoyed your company far too much. If I can't save my village, I'm going to be selfish enough to save you.'

His eyes drop, and his nose sniffs, and you do the only thing your mind can piece together at that moment. You walk forward, and with a tentative face you wrap your arms around his torso and hug him. It takes him a moment to realise that you're not rightfully furious with him, before he lets his head droop down into the curve of your shoulder. You don't say a word when you feel his arms shake, sliding around your ribcage until his hands are clenched fists in the back of your shirt. He's so tall he's almost smothering you, but you don't care a jot. Instead, you just stay a moment in your perfect isolation, allowing the man in front of you the comfort and vulnerability to break.

You thought that was as bad as you would ever see him, but this man gets SERIOUSLY worried when he realises that you've been infected with las plagas too?? He curses himself with an incredibly frantic and incredibly rude string of Spanish curse words, realising it must have been around the same time Leon was infected, and you've been struggling with the pain of it alone this whole time. He goes into Serious Scientist Mode and does his best not to freak out when, in a flash, you've gone from idle chatting to flashing a boot knife at his throat. His adams apple bobs against the serrated edge of the blade as he slowly reaches his hand out to reassuringly squeeze your shoulder once again.

'It's alright, you do what you have to do. I told you, I'm not leaving you again, si?'

Your face crumbles in agonising pain as the black tendrils begin to flood away from your eyes to be replaced by blinking tears, mustering the strength to fling the knife until it sticks firmly into frame of a painting. You fall to the floor, writhing in pain, and it takes all of Luis' strength not to cry out as he falls down beside you like there are firecrackers nipping at his heels. He legit carries you bridle style out the door and onto one of those velvet cushioned chairs in the castle's corridor. He stoops down next to you, and you finally come around to his warm thumb rubbing just under your bottom lash line as he checks the white of your eyes for any lingering signs of infection.

His fingers are incredibly gentle as he unfurls your other intertwined hand to check the pulse on your wrist. The wrinkles on his forehead are so shoved together that he almost looks like he's folded in on himself, and you can barely make out the slight shake of his fingertips as he steadily counts with bated breath. He lets out a whistle of relief through his front teeth once he's reassured, falling backwards onto the gilded frame of the staircase's banister and stretching his legs out in front of him in blissful solace.

He nearly jumps out of his skin when you whisper a pained 'hey handsome', gripping your side and stretching out your neck as you sit up fully. He doesn't even speak, his eyes wide and terrified as he flies forward and pulls you into a desperate hug, so tight against his chest you feel like you might pop if his biceps pulse any more. He seems almost sheepish when he pulls back, until you pull him down by the lapel of his jacket to kiss his cheek and whisper a 'thanks for not leaving me' into the shell of his ear. Like a lightning strike, like life breathed back into his lungs, he's grinning like his old self. The lovestruck dope. You really have wrapped around your pinkie finger.

Him screaming WHEEE and climbing onto your head the whole time you're in the cart mine lmao.

When you guys reach the garden maze, he just can't keep his feelings in any longer. He doesn't quite know if it was you nearly being mauled by the dogs that reminded him of his grandfather, and all he's lost, or if it's just the thought of him not getting you to his lab in time that makes all the frustration and love and pure adrenaline fear slam against his ribs. Before you can even wipe the blood off your forehead, peering around the next corner to see if you can catch sight of an end to these stupid ass hedges, Luis struts forward and cages you in his arms. He's kissing you so fervently, effectively pinning you between his groin, lower legs, and the bristles of the bush behind you that you nearly fall through with the intensity of it.

This man is definitely the type to nearly knock you on your ass though tbf because he's thrusting up against you, so desperate for you.

Smug bastard is smirking the whole time, until he feels your nails scratch lightly against the stubble by the pulse point on his neck. He winces, closing his eyes and turning his head towards the empty air at your side that you think you've hurt him, until the bastard starts groaning.

Without even realising it, Luis has shoved you down onto the grass, breaking your fall by landing you on top of his arm. He crawls between you like a ravenous tiger until he's hovering over your face. He bites at the side of your neck, leaving a few wet marks as his tongue eagerly glides across your skin as your hand desperately reaches up onto the stone side of the fountain. Your chest rises and falls in quick succession as the man leaning his weight eagerly on your stomach ravishes you, only for your grasping hand to be met with his own heavily landing on top of it, interlinking quickly with your fingers. He growls as he pulls at the bottom of your thighs, raising your lower body further up towards him whilst also pulling your raised legs around the bottom of his back.

His other hand is aflame as it holds tight against the side of your pelvis, effectively holding you in place as he grinds against you, teeth nipping at your top lip as he kisses you like the world might end around him at any moment. His breath pants against your tongue, hand wandering like smooth butter down the sides of your hip, making sure you experience every inch of pleasure that's been pent up over the last few days. Making sure, with each swirl of his tongue against your own, that you finally realise how much he adores every inch of you. Ensuring, as he pulls you down by the hips to rest against the belt buckle of his jeans, that you're safe in the knowledge that he's never felt this in love: this safe, this devoted, so like himself again with anyone else.

Thankfully you're there to look out for each through thick and thin, and even more thankfully you're there to stop him being attacked and grievously wounded by Krauser. He swears, as the two of you finally come running hand in hand into his lab, and he holds onto your fingers with a grip tight and sweaty enough to bend metal, that he's going to make the most of this chance at redemption he's been given. He's going to be your knight in shining armour, for as long as he may live.

[stevendameron]

Hi there!! I saw your Luis icons and was wondering if I could possibly request some Luis wallpapers??

here you go ^ - ^

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷  ⇢ ˗ˏˋ  𝙡𝙪𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙖 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙥𝙖𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨  ˎˊ˗ ꒰ 🕸️ ꒱

✖ 〉.   ❝ like or reblog if you save / use ❞

♪ ！ ﹒feel free to request icons / headers / wallpapers﹕❍

[stevendameron]

Imagine waking up with Luis sleeping on top of you while you both take shelter from the storm.

Warning: suggestive content 🤫

A/N: editted for mistakes and added upon by just a little for your reading pleasure ;) thanks for your time

“Think it’s safe?”

“Only one way to find out. ¡Vamos! Into certain danger we go!”

You pinch the bridge of your nose and groan. This man’s optimism was breathtaking, confident in his strides towards the abandoned looking house that you two discovered. You follow behind him, careful in your own steps and had your gun drawn at the ready in case of any unfriendly encounters. Thankfully, your entrance went unanswered and after a thorough search of the building, you both confirm that the coast is clear. Finally, a safe space to squat and wait out the storm.

Sighing in relief, you didn’t realize how exhausted you were until you took a seat on a rickety wooden chair in what you assumed to be the remains of a dining area. Running around avoiding countless plaga in the pouring rain took a lot of your energy and your weary state did not go unnoticed.

Luis speaks addresses you. “Why don’t you take a rest, my friend? There is a bed upstairs. I do not think the owners will mind it.”

Your brow lifts upon reflex, tempted by the idea of laying on something soft after hours of running for your life. However, the consideration of well-being for your present company outweighed your desire to address your own. So you counter him, “And what about you? You look just as bad as I do.”

The man dismisses your suggestion with a wave of his hand, “I’ll keep watch. Make sure no scary monsters come bumping in the night. No te preocupes, I’ll be fine.”

Always the gentleman this one.

Still, you weren’t going to let him get away with it. Especially at the sight of the dark circles beneath his eyes. Chivalry be damned. You take a moment to absorb your dusty surroundings and listen closely to the weather. The two of you were lucky to even find this place amidst the pouring rain and you were certain there wouldn’t be any uninvited guests coming in to hack you both into pieces anytime soon with how bad this storm is raging.

“Pretty sure we’re safe here, Luis. Can’t see anything in this damn rain and place looks like it hasn’t been occupied in ages. Plus, with Leon Kennedy roaming about, think Saddler is commanding his minions to focus more on him than us.” You wave your finger around the air, figuratively drawing the argument back at him. “So if you need some shut-eye too, I was told there’s a bed upstairs.”

Luis chuckles breathlessly, evidently amused at how you effectively countered him. He then hums aloud, seemingly taking your reasoning with careful consideration before a coy smile curves upon his handsome face.

“Qué lindo. So stubborn just to get me to lie with you.”

The color drains from your face in an instant.

“Now hold on a minute-“

The man cuts you off with a rambunctious laugh. “You’re much too easy to tease, my friend. Very well, then. You win!” he says with an affirmative clap before making his way to the stairs. Halfway up, he stops in his tracks to look down at you. “Well? You coming?”

You wait to see if he would follow up with further teasing. When he didn’t, you wordlessly got up from the chair and joined him. As he said, there is indeed a bed on the far wall of the room. Like the rest of the house, it looks like it had seen better days but neither of you were in a position to be picky especially when sleep was beckoning. You approach the bed and lift the sheets off, dusting as much as you can before setting it back down and doing the same for the pillows. The bed was big enough for two people, so it should be fine to share without worrying about bumping into one another in your sleep.

“There,” you huff, satisfied with how you prepared the bed. “Is there a side you prefe-“

Your voice catches in your throat when you turn around and take in the sight of Luis’ bare back. It was only when you see him fidgeting with the zipper of his pants did you find it again.

“What are you doing?!” you practically screech.

The dark-haired man glances casually at you over his broad shoulder, not at all bothered by your sharp tone.

“What does it look like? I’m making myself comfortable,” shrugs Luis. “I suggest you do the same. You’ll get sick if you sleep in wet clothes.”

The desire to argue for the sake of arguing was strong, but you found yourself distracted by his physique. For a man who claims to be just a “simple researcher”, he is pretty cut. The definitions of his muscles are both impressive and pleasing to the eye. It didn’t help that the man is devilishly good-looking as well, not that you will ever say that out loud. The man’s ego was big enough as it is.

If you were taking too long to speak up, Luis didn’t say. He turned his head away from your direction. “I won’t look, prometo. And I’ll take the left side. Muchas gracias.”

A man of his word, Luis did not once look your way as he wordlessly went to his side of the bed and slips himself beneath the sheets. After a moment of inner conflict, you heed his advice and strip yourself down to your underwear as well, taking your clothes and his to hang off the stair railing. Finally reaching the bed, you see that Luis was still lying on his side. The heavy breathing your ears pick up suggests that he’s fast asleep. Although your heart was beating frantically, you settle under the covers as well. Your form mirroring his with your back towards him. Sleep came quickly.

You’re not sure how much time has passed when you woke up, you only know that it is still storming outside… and Luis Serra is on top of you.

His whole body is practically draped over yours. He partially lied with his chest both against the bed and on your side. The heavy weight of his right arm was wrapped around your middle with his hand resting almost possessively on your hip. You can feel his breath fan against your neck, leaving warm, lingering tingles upon your skin. It suddenly felt impossibly hot in this chilly room.

You didn’t need to see the man’s face to know he is still sleeping, snoring soundly against your ear. Careful not to wake him, you tried to move away. However, the moment you fidgeted, Lus stirs and his hand moves from your hip to your shoulder, effectively keeping you in place.

Well, then. This is awkward.

The idea of waking him up came to mind but you thought better against it. Why embarrass you both and deny the other some meaningful rest? That was the excuse you came up with as you feel the man nuzzle against your neck and shoulder. The scratch of his facial hair feeling wonderful against your skin. An involuntary sigh of pleasure escapes your mouth and you had to bite your bottom lip to stop more from coming out. You needed to pull yourself together. The man is sleeping, for god’s sake, and here you were, getting hot and bothered.

Just as you were about to accept your situation with grace, you feel Luis move once more. Followed by a lethargic groan, he twists until he is on his back, withdrawing his hand from your person until it rested on his sculpted abdomen. His eyes are still closed. His expression is peaceful, absent of the coquettish mask he usually wears. The man looks impossibly beautiful like this and you found yourself reaching a curious hand towards his face. You manage to stop right before his cheek, mesmerized by his sleeping form. If lives weren’t on the line, you’d watch him forever.

“How long have you been awake?”

The sound of his thick accent made you jolt, retreating your hand back to your side. You almost thought you were imagining Luis’ voice until your eyes catch the flutter of his lashes. Grey eyes peeking in your direction.

Unable to think of anything better to say, you candidly answer back, “How long have you?”

The Spaniard grins wryly. “Tocado. Point taken.”

He turns his head, his expression telling that the man is well-rested and now focused entirely on you. There was something in his eyes that you cannot place. Or more accurately, there was an emotion within them that you recognized all too well as you were certain you had the same burning in yours but dared not to acknowledge our loud. You mimic his movements, ensnared by his magnetic gaze. When he turned his body so that he was completely facing you, you did the same. Neither of you have broken eye contact. In the corner of your vision, you see him lift his hand until it hovered over your hip at the exact same spot it was before. Luis doesn’t lower it, however, his eyes silently asking for your permission. A slight nod from you was the sign he was waiting for and you are graced by his warm touch once more.

His thumb caresses soft patterns against your hip bone, teasing the skin beneath the band of your underwear. Your breath hitches, his subtle touches already stirring something fierce inside you.

“¡Mierda! Don’t make that face.” the man growls, wearing a serious, pained expression. You blink in confusion. Instead of elaborating right away, Luis earnestly squeezes your hip, earning a wanton gasp from your mouth, and pulls you in against him by the curve of your back.

“If you keep looking at me like that, mi amor,” he says through gritted teeth, his hot breath mingling with yours. “I won’t be able to savor you slowly.”

That undid you.

You weren’t sure which of you two closed the distance. While the storm was pouring freezing rain outside, you and Luis kept one another plenty warm inside.

.

.

A/N: Thanks for reading. You can find the next (Rated M) part here ;)

[stevendameron]

Language of Love

Luis Serra x female reader

Requested by: @leons-little-slut

Can I ask for a Luis Serra x Reader who doesn’t speak Spanish as their first language and keeps getting confused when Luis keeps flirting with her and won’t tell her what he’s saying? Maybe he even goes as far as confessing to her in Spanish randomly one day and she asks what he said but he won’t tell her so she decides to translate it later herself because she can’t get it out of her head and wants to know what he was saying. Any ending where they end up together is up to you! This is my first time ever asking on Tumblr so I hope I’m doing this right and I hope this isn’t too much to ask!

Warning: No spoilers for RE 4 Remake. Fluff.

I love this so much! I hope you enjoy! Thank you.

Please enjoy.

Since the very first moment he laid his eyes on her, Luis knew he wanted to be with her. [Name] was a remarkable woman, someone who never failed to surprise him, be it with simple little things or aiding in milestones of their research. Their paths had originally begun when they met in collage. Both rising stars among their peers and sometimes even pitted against one another, their test scores rivalling only each other. Both either equal or the difference of but one mark.

And yet, the two never saw one another as competition or rivals. [Name] had stated time and time again that she was impressed by Luis' intelligence and was more than happy when she learned that he, too, had been accepted by Umbrella. The man was someone she enjoyed the company of. Even if he did have his moments of playful banter and flirtations. Though, [Name] never knew how to react as Luis would never tell her what he said, finding her light confusion adorable.

One little name he often liked calling her was Cariño, which [Name] had been able to deduct as a pet name of sorts. He always called her that, no one else. But he would never tell her what it meant, no matter how many times she asked him. Each time she did, he would smile and give her a little wink. At moments like that, she wished she had studied Spanish at school.

Sitting at her computer desk, her fingers danced along the keyboard as she typed in the report of their recent development in research. A knock at her door caught her attention.

"Yes?" The door opened and Luis stepped forward, that smile on his face as always, the little dimples showing as he closed the door behind him. "Hello, Luis. What brings you by?" She asked, noticing the paper folded in the man's hand.

"Can I not visit my delightful Cariño?" Something flickered in his eyes, something akin to nervousness despite his attempts to hide it behind his sweet words and smile. [Name] had known him long enough to notice the little details. The little chips in his mask.

"What's with the paper? Another list for me to work through?" She motioned to the paper in his hands to which he shook his head.

"Not quite. But it is something else for you." He carefully unfolded the piece of paper and cleared his throat lightly before reading aloud.

"Querida mía, desde el momento en que te conocí, supe que eras especial. He pensado en ti cada día y más, tu presencia una luz en mi vida más hermosa que las estrellas en la noche, y el sol en el día. No puedo verme sin ti, así que te pido que seas mía para poder mostrarte cuánto significas para mí."

He finished with a warm smile, his smoke grey eyes falling onto her face as he gently folded the paper again. [Name] blinked once then twice.

".... um...." That was all she could get out. Not a single word did she understand or have any idea what it could even be. Was this another one of his little jokes? "Luis, you know I can't understand Spanish."

"Then lucky for you, I wrote it down." He handed her the paper, his fingertips lightly lingering against hers for a moment. "Come see me when you figured it out." With a cheeky wink, he left without another word, leaving her baffled at the script in her hands.

She couldn't help but admit the mysterious letter had consumed her curiosity. Once she finished her work, she turned her attention to the letter, trying to decipher it. Luis was clearly not going to offer even a little hint. Still, she wasn't going to let this get the best of her, she was going to translate it without his help and rub it in his face.

Carefully typing out the letter, she looked over the words to ensure the spelling was correct and clicked enter. The translation popping up on the screen:

"My dearest, Since the moment I first met you, I knew you were special. I have thought of you each day and more, your presence a light in my life more beautiful than the stars at night, and the sun in the day. I cannot see myself without you, and so, I ask that you be mine so I can show you just how much you mean to me."

Her eyes ran over the translation once then twice and yet a third time, the words sinking into her mind. If this translation was accurate, the words were heartfelt and sweet, perhaps the sweetest she has ever heard come from the man. Her heart pulsed, filling with a tenderness that brought a smile to her lips. Picking up the letter, she headed off to search for Luis, checking his office first.

Luis looked over the second he heard the door handle twist, setting his glasses aside. "So, did you figure out the letter?"

[Name] stood in the doorway, holding it gently in her hands, and nodded. "Did you mean it? What you wrote?" She wanted to know if it was true, that this wasn't a silly little joke of some kind. Luis nodded.

"Every word and more." The two stood in silence for a moment then she walked over to him, her arms wrapping around his body and pressing a sweet kiss on his cheek. ""Every word and more." The two stood in silence for a moment then she walked over to him, her arms wrapping around his body and pressing a sweet kiss on his cheek.

"You could have just told me." Luis' arms wrapped around her, pulling her close as he connected their lips together,

"Now where's the fun in that?"

[stevendameron]

since it's RE4make's anniversary, I wanna ramble about Luis Serra for a bit, since I found his story to be one of the best changes in the remake (+ he's underrated too).

making him an ex-Umbrella employee was a great addition - it made his relationship with Leon all more significant and meaningful. he knew he ruined lives (including Leon's) due to his Umbrella/Illuminados research, and for that reason he was actively making an effort to make amends, trying to redeem himself by helping Leon & Ashley (+Ada).

we even see him breaking down in Separate Ways, and you just realize the full extent of his emotions and desires.

"why is this so important to you?" / "there are things I must set right."

in his final moments, Leon acknowledged his efforts, his feelings.

"what do you think, Leon? people can change, right?"

Luis ultimately saved his Sancho and Princess Dulcinea, just as he desired. Leon lights his cigarette for him with the Umbrella lighter, a gesture I found impactful. despite everything, Leon's kindness saw him as a man, and not as a sinner.

Luis died... like a fine knight indeed.

[stevendameron]

Luis Serra Navarro in Resident Evil 4 Remake: Separate Ways

[stevendameron]

Okay, but there was a fic where Richard was too insecure to have sex with his gf bc his ex told him his dick is too big and I'm so fucking not okay since then 😮‍💨🔥

I have to find that.

Like if that man told me that, i'd be like... "Is this a challenge? 🤤"

[stevendameron]

Oscar Isaac admiring a cosplayer’s Poe Dameron helmet during the red carpet premiere of The Promise at Toronto International Film Festival on September 11, 2016. [x]

[stevendameron]

'i watch revenge for jolly for the plot'

the plot:

[stevendameron]

Not y'all posting GIFs of oscar fucking, that show up first thing on my TL while I'm at work🫣🫣🫣

Like if someone saw how do I even explain??

(this is me looking around making sure no one saw like)

[stevendameron]

he makes me think many thoughts 👁️👄👁️

[stevendameron]

Something weird for you 💚

well, i made a promise

thank you, fen 💛💛

[stevendameron]

nathan bateman- what's real

Summary: Your ex, Nathan Bateman, asks for your help. He’s worried he’s an android. You’re sure he isn’t. Instead, you wonder if something else is causing a change in him.

there’s no smut in this. that was a complete accident, I assure you. :: Kissing, dick jokes, language, etc, no gender language or physical descriptions, ~5.1k ::

-----

As soon as you sit down at your work station, your computer monitor turns itself on.

The screen lights up and there sits Nathan Bateman, your boss at Blue Book, and former boyfriend.

He looks as impatient as you remember. His eyes aren’t even on the camera. His inability to focus on you, even during dinner or sex, had been a big part of why you’d broken up with him.

You slip your headphones on.

“You turned down the invitation to come stay with me,” he says, his voice like a liquid numbing agent to your senses.

You tell yourself not to get drawn in. Not to let yourself feel anything for him again.

He uses anything he can to his advantage. Including the fact that he knows you’ll never stop loving him.

“I did, and I don’t regret saying no,” you say.

“I offered you two mil. Why?”

You lean back in your desk chair, silent long enough that he has to look at you. His eyes are like black holes, trying to suck you into their gravity.

You’d never thought Nathan would contact you again. He’d been exceptionally cruel when you’d broken things off. And then he’d fucked off to no one knew where for almost a year now, living alone and doing God knew what.

“You’re my ex for a reason,” you say simply.

“I’m not asking you to marry me. I need your help,” he says. His eyes sweep downward. You see him writing something, his attention seemingly only half on you.

You’re on high-alert, though. Nathan doesn’t ever need help. He resents the implication. If he needs something, he takes it.

“Please,” he says. His attention is divided, but it almost seems like a show. Like he’s going through the motions of being his usual asshole self.

His eyes, when they look at you again, have an edge of desperation you’ve never seen in him. “You’re the only person who ever really knew me. You’re the only person who’d be able to tell.”

“Tell what?”

“If I’m me.”

“Nathan,” you say slowly, fear prickling at the back of your neck.

“I’m going to send you over some documentation. Should probably make you sign an NDA. I don’t think anyone would believe you if you started screaming about how Nathan Bateman isn’t real anymore. Doesn’t matter.”

“Of course you’re real. I’m talking to you right now.”

Nathan half-smiles, but it’s not happy. “Read up on what I’ve been doing out here. Then you come tell me what’s real.”

*****

The property is stunning.

Eerily beautiful.

Your fear of flying meant you’d taken a sleeping pill for the trip out. Nathan’s suggestion. It was the right thing to do because it had kept you calm for the lonely flight on the private jet, but you knew it was also so Nathan could keep his location a secret.

You hadn’t had to flash a passport anywhere. The airstrip where the plane had landed was new, but abandoned.

The all-wheel drive vehicle that drove you and your luggage to the house was unmanned.

Everything seemed alien.

Nothing more so than the man who greeted you at the door.

Barefoot, a loose, white sweater and long workout shorts.

“Your beard,” you say before you can stop yourself.

Nathan runs a hand over it, a grin toying with the ends of his mouth. “Yeah, let it grow out a little.”

Your fingers itch to touch it. Nathan waves you into the house. It’s beautiful, but Nathan hefts your suitcase down the stairs wordlessly and you follow.

“A little creepy down here. Like if the Overlook Hotel was poured in concrete,” you say at the blank, gray hallway.

He shrugs. “The walls had to be thick and industrial aesthetics never bothered me. This one’s you. It’s at the end of the hall so it’s easier to find. The upstairs is a mess. We’re both down here.”

The room’s like a fancy, spartan hotel room, except for one thing. There, in the middle of the bed, is a stuffed black bear with a red ribbon around its neck.

You launch yourself at it, picking him up and hugging him.

“It’s not the same one, but it’s from the same year, same place, same everything,” Nathan says.

You rub the soft, velvet-covered nose of the bear against yours. “I was upset for weeks when I lost him.”

“You didn’t lose him,” Nathan sits on the edge of the bed, not making eye contact. “I got rid of him. I didn’t think a grown adult should be sleeping with stuffed animals.”

The blood freezes in your veins. Nathan had done a lot of fucked up things, but this was beyond horrible.

You’d had Bear for years, since you were a kid. Seen him in a store window. It had been like meeting your soul mate. You still have no idea how much money you’d brought to the store the next day. You’re sure the assortment of bills and coins hadn’t been nearly the price on the tag, but the shop owner must’ve seen the love in your eyes.

Bear had gone to school with you every day, even sometimes in your locker in high school. On every vacation. A kiss for luck before job interviews. You always said you weren’t talking to yourself at home, you were talking to Bear. He was a great listener.

That Nathan would rip away something so important to you, just because he dismissed it as childish… but it has to be more than that. With Nathan, things always are.

He was always cagey about his childhood, but it wasn’t happy. His parents hadn’t known what to do with his genius, and he’d felt isolated, probably for his entire life. His parents had resented that he was smarter than they were, had more drive, had more money before he was legal to drive.

By the time you’d met him, Nathan had gone through his “I’m a misunderstood genius” phase. He’d left his days of partying with his bros behind. Stopped sleeping with supermodels for fun.

Then, he’s started working on this- artificial intelligence.

As if he could build something that would finally understand him. As if you weren’t standing in front of him every day, pleading with him to let you in.

You’d practically quit your job at Blue Book to spend time with him, to help him however you could, thinking it would bring you closer together.

His work drove him because at the time, he’d seen Blue Book growing into a company he didn’t like. He wasn’t sure he could control it. He wanted to work on something that would revolutionize the human race, something he could control. Until he couldn’t. Which, at the time you didn’t understand.

Now, you think you understand more than you’ve ever wanted to about Nathan Bateman. It’s like the pain from your breakup is a picked-open wound. Like he’ll never stop hurting you. He’ll never let you go. Why the fuck did you come out here?

To your annoyance, tears gather at your lower lash lines. You hold onto Bear, looking away from him.

“I’m sorry,” Nathan says quietly. He sounds like he means it. “I know it’s fucking stupid for a grown man to be jealous of a stuffed animal.”

You set Bear back on your bed, snug in the middle, tucked so far in-between the pillows that his little arms push forward, just like you used to do. His shiny, black eyes stare out. You’d rubbed the soft, tan-colored fuzz off old Bear’s nose. The white, opaque plastic had peeked through. This one has the brown velvety texture you’d always loved.

As far as you know, Nathan had never really found comfort in anything. He thought it was weak to need it. Sometimes, when you were sitting on the couch watching TV or lying in bed until noon, he’d get a look on his face, like he was almost devastated by the moment.

You realize now, that was Nathan realizing he’d needed comfort after all. And that it was you.

You bend down to your suitcase and unzip it. You let your hands unpack before your brain can tell them not to.

“I, uh, have 243 more of those guys in airtight storage,” Nathan says. “Plastic bins right next to some of the world’s most sensitive equipment and terabytes of completely illegal data. So, if you ever need another, you have the world’s supply.”

He tries to grin, but it falls short, looking awkward instead.

“I don’t know if you’re human or android, but you’ve definitely changed,” you say.

Nathan flops back on the bed, arms behind his head as he stares at the ceiling. “Yeah, I hadn’t realized it until weird shit started happening. This is where you ask ‘what weird shit?’ and I get you up to speed. We’re already a couple of hours behind where I thought we’d be by now. Talking about feelings takes up too much time.”

“Okay. You haven’t changed that much.” You roll your eyes.

His grin is real this time. He sits up on the bed so he can watch you rifle through things, decide what goes where, neatly re-fold and organize. You’d agreed to a month, and you’d brought things for more than that because with Nathan, you’d never known what to expect.

He sighs, rolls his shoulders like he’s prepping for a sparring match. “I’ll start with the thing that might freak you out the most. I disabled all the androids. So, if you hear walking around at night, it’s me. Insomnia or sleep-walking, I don't know. Sometimes I’m talking or wandering. I always wake back up in bed.”

You pause folding your t-shirts. You feel your forehead wrinkle in concern. “Nathan-“

“I know,” he holds up his hand. “But that’s not the worst of it.”

Reluctantly, you go back to folding clothes, grateful you have something to do while he talks.

“Usually once a week, for a few months now, I have a day where I’m just sitting at my computer, staring at the monitors.”

You shrug. “That’s not unusual for you.”

“But I don’t do anything except for sit on my ass. And at the end of the day, I go to bed, wake up totally normal the next morning. It’s like I skipped a day. The only reason I know it’s happening is because everything I work on is timestamped and things weren’t adding up.” He looks up at you from over the rims of his glasses. “I don’t remember the entire day of doing nothing. Or maybe I do. But maybe I just think I do.”

He takes off his glasses, rubs his eyes hard.

“I don’t fucking know anymore. And, also, I have this wall of post-its, but lately I’ve started writing on the walls,” he says.

“That’s not good,” you say without thinking.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he looks at you dryly.

“I think you need a doctor.” You close the drawer and sit down on the bed with him. “This sounds like something you need help with, maybe medication.”

Nathan shakes his head, frustrated. “I’m not having a psychotic episode. This is all real. There’s nothing wrong with me physically or chemically.”

“It’s mental.”

“It’s you.”

You inhale sharply. Nathan almost winces like he’s in pain. He definitely hadn’t wanted to say that. He rubs one his earlobes.

“I always said you were the only one-“ he cuts himself off. He looks at the far wall, a look on his face like he almost can’t believe this is happening. His face turns to you. He puts his glasses back on, like he wants to see you clearly. “When I broke up with you, I thought I was doing what was best for both of us. I had my work. You distracted me. You’d find someone better. But,” he shrugs one shoulder, “I need you. I can’t live like this. And you haven’t found anyone better or you wouldn’t be here.”

There’s a frantic, desperate look in Nathan’s eyes that’s so unlike him that for a second, you wonder if he’s right. Maybe he’d built himself.

But then you remember who you’re talking about.

Nathan’s too full of himself to build a double.

He rubs his hands over his face. “You finish here. Come up for dinner when you’re done. It’s pasta, not much. I’m a shit cook.”

“You don’t have robots cooking and cleaning?”

He shakes his head, getting up from the bed, one of his knees cracking. “Can’t take the chance. I’ll see you upstairs.”

Nathan looks from you to Bear, then walks out with purpose.

As soon as he’s gone, you examine Bear for cameras and microphones. You hold his shiny eyes up to the light, run your fingers on every seam and wrinkle. He’s clean.

By the time you get upstairs, it’s dark out. The stars are so bright here. It only makes you realize how isolated you and Nathan are.

There’s a pot of water boiling on the stove-top. A glass jar of sauce and a basil plant sit on the counter. Nathan’s back is to you, but you can hear him typing on an open laptop next to the stove.

“Hey,” he calls out, “this is working already, you being here. Just figured out a bug that’s been impossible for me to fix for days. Had to throw a huge block out.”

Nathan looks more relaxed as he shuts the laptop and starts making dinner. He’s more like himself, except for one, huge, gigantic, glaring thing.

He’d never stopped work for anything before. Not for food. Not for you. His work was always the only thing that mattered.

There had been days, ones you’re not proud of, when you’d literally hand-fed him because he refused to stop coding to eat a meal.

Tonight, right in front of your eyes, Nathan had willingly stopped working to cook for you.

He watches you out of the corner of his eye as he gets a box of pasta out of the cabinet. It’s surreal, watching him do something as human as cooking food.

“Let me preface your questions,” he talks as he works. “If you thought I was a mindfuck before, you’re going to think that was a piece of apple pie. You’ll test me biologically first. I could’ve tampered with any kind of body scan, so I can’t trust them. Your first job is to do a blood draw from a non-standard, random location on my body. Then, you’re going to cut me open.”

“Whoa, Nathan, no fucking way.” You walk over to him quickly.

“You’re not going to slice me in half. Just another random location, a little bit every day. Just to make sure there’s nothing mechanical.”

You lean against the counter. “I need a drink. You have any wine in this creepy, fancy house?”

Nathan starts the timer for the pasta, goes to the wine fridge and gets out one glass.

“I don’t drink anymore,” he says.

“Holy shit,” you whisper to yourself.

“And no sex,” Nathan uncorks the wine with a pop. “I could be programmed to try to manipulate you with it.”

“You’re not programmed. You’re still human. I already know you are,” you say, accepting the glass of wine Nathan offers.

He looks skeptical. “If I’m an android, then I’m one that can pass any test you could throw at me.”

You laugh so hard you have to set your wine down. So hard, your stomach actually hurts and you have to use the kitchen towel to wipe your tears.

Nathan, arms folded, glowers at you until you’re finished.

“I’m sorry,” you laugh, finally able to take a breath. “I’m sorry. Leave it up to you to think that you’re the world’s most perfect, sophisticated android.”

You start laughing again.

“Okay,” Nathan says, annoyed, and goes back to making dinner.

“You’re so full of yourself, it’s unbelievable.” You try to take deep breaths, to stop laughing. He’s clearly upset. “Nathan, listen, please.”

He shrugs you off of him, pouring the sauce in another pot to heat up.

“Hey,” you grab his arms and turn him away from the stove. “If you thought medical tests would give you answers, you would’ve hired a doctor. You didn’t. You asked me. It’s illogical, the kind of thing an android would never do.”

Nathan’s eyes shut for a second, then open, staring hotly at your face. “Unless fooling you is the last checkmark of a test I set up for myself.”

The thought slinks up your spine, making you feel cold.

“No,” you say firmly, “I don’t believe that. Even if you needed a final boss to test an AI, you wouldn’t have called me. We both know you never wanted to see me again.”

Nathan switches off the burners of the stove angrily. “Except I did. All I wanted was to see you again. I just knew it shouldn’t happen.”

You lay a hand on his shoulder, the truth of his words weighing on you.

“Let’s eat,” Nathan say shortly. He gives you a nudge. “Go sit down. I’ll bring everything to the table.”

Over dinner, you tell him what you’ve been up to in your time apart. You’re a corporate drone, but your life has changed in a lot of ways. You have a tight circle of friends. You tell him about your family, the neighborhood you live in, hobbies you’ve picked up.

Nathan’s hungrier for information than for food. It’s almost too much, having Nathan Bateman’s full attention. You’d figured you’d only ever had about 25% of it before, at any given time.

He eats quickly, like he wants to get it over with. The same as he used to.

“I cut myself off from you,” he says. He points at you with his fork. “I didn’t stalk you, didn’t check in on you. Went cold turkey.”

That surprises you more than anything. He’s such a control freak, you’re embarrassed to admit you’d assumed he’d kept tabs on you in the last year.

“So you don’t know that I have a serious boyfriend?” you ask.

Nathan’s fork drops out of his hand. He looks heartbroken.

“I’m kidding,” you say quickly.

“Not fucking funny.” He frowns.

“I have dated, though,” you smile. “My longest relationship after you was two or three months.”

“Jesus,” Nathan’s big, brown eyes get bigger. “What was he like?”

You scrape together the last bite of noodles and sauce. “He was outgoing and funny. He did videography. That’s how we met. He was shooting the wedding of a friend of mine. He’s a great guy.”

“Cool. Love to hear that,” Nathan says sarcastically. He grabs your glass of wine and takes a long sip.

You bite back a smile. “We could’ve kept casually dating for a long time, but he wanted me to move in with him, start really committing. I wasn’t ready. Or, I wasn’t ready to do that with him.”

Nathan shoves the empty bowls to the side. “Did he know about us?”

You snort. “No way. I never tell people I dated the founder of Blue Book. They’d think I was lying, or that I only dated super rich guys.”

Nathan rests an elbow on the table, his fingers scratching through his bear. He has that look on his face. Not exactly snotty, but he’s looking a little down his nose at you. His eyes are warm, though, the skin around his heavy lids and lashes is relaxed. You’d always been able to tell Nathan’s mood from his eyes.

“Let me ask you something,” he says. “I had a cabin in the Sierra Nevadas.”

You nod, remembering how many weekends you’d spent there. Nathan always worked a lot, but between work, you’d made great use of every single inch of that place. You were pretty sure if you’d shone a black light on it, it would’ve lit up like a Christmas tree.

“One time in the hot tub, or before the hot tub.” Nathan pauses, getting his thoughts in order. “I was already in there and you came out in your bathrobe and coverup and swimsuit. You did this little striptease for me. No music or dancing, you just took off your robe. Then, you kept taking things off. You told me to keep my hands above the water, to just watch you. I did.”

Nathan leans forward, his hands finding yours on the tabletop. His hands are big and softer than you remember. He looks at you so longingly, you lean forward too, unable to resist the pull of how much you know he wants you.

“Was that real?” Nathan asks softly, desperately.

You feel tears flood your eyes as you squeeze his hands. “Of course.”

His breath is shaky as he exhales. “Thank god.”

“You���re real, Nathan.” You pull your hands away, rest them on either side of his jaw. His beard is dense and softer than you’d expected. “I know you don’t trust yourself. You can trust me, though. You’re real.”

You kiss him on the lips, just a quick press.

“You’re real,” you say, kissing him again, deeper this time.

Nathan kisses you back. In a way, he’s familiar, something you’ve missed. It’s also different, almost new. It takes you a second to realize what it is. You’re overwhelmed at the feeling of kissing him again, how his hands cradle your back, how he stands and pulls you from your chair. You’re sitting on the table, Nathan pressed up between your legs as his tongue sweeps over yours.

It’s different now because you can feel his emotions. Not just passion or lust. It feels like, please, you hope it's true, it feels like he loves you.

He breaks the kiss, but stands, pulling your thighs tight around his hips. “I started to forget what color your swimsuit was. What time of day it was. I couldn’t remember anymore. All I knew was that I’d never wanted anything in my life the way I wanted you that night.”

A tear drops down your cheek and Nathan wipes it away reverently with his thumb.

“Nathan,” you smile, “memories fade. It’s natural. The emotions stay. It’s not a cognitive dissonance. It’s not programming.”

He kisses you deeply, his lips pulling on yours. “I want both. The memories, and you.”

“Of course you do.” You kiss him back. “You missed me, you big dummy.”

He rests his forehead on yours. His eyes don’t meet yours, but he’s thinking. “It can’t be that simple.”

A laugh bubbles out of you. “You really thought it was more likely that you were an artificial life form, than that you were heartsick? That you loved me even? You’re not malfunctioning. You’re just feeling the most human thing in the world.”

“We never said ‘I love you,’” Nathan says warily.

“Because we didn’t need to. We felt it,” you explain, because you now realize that as brilliant as he is, Nathan is an absolute beginner at recognizing any feeling beyond smug superiority. “You’re such a fucking idiot. I love you.”

Nathan looks away. When his eyes meet yours again, the regular sharpness is back. The gears are turning as usual. “You’re not going to believe the bullshit I put myself through, thinking something was seriously wrong with me. All this fucking time, I loved you? That’s all it was?”

“It’s probably more that you bottled it up for so long that it started affecting on your health.” You wrap your arms loosely around his waist, letting your fingers brush over the swell of his ass.

He pushes up his glasses. “I’ve never had that happen before. Unfortunately, I think you’re right. When you left- or, when I made you leave- I don’t think I thought about you for a solid six months.”

“Ouch.”

“No, that’s not what I mean.” He sighs at himself. “A little bit of effort every second of every day, I had to dedicate to not thinking of you. It created an invisible mental load that broke me. You fucking broke me.”

He sounds absolutely horrified by it. You, however, are all smiles.

“I solved this in one night. I think I just replaced Batman as the greatest detective in history. I deserve a prize,” you say.

“You have me, isn’t that a big enough win?” Nathan smirks.

“Actually,” you say, a thought occurring with you. Half serious, half just to mess with Nathan. “I know how to tell if you’re an android or not.”

Nathan senses some bullshit, but he only nods for you to continue.

“If you’re fake and the real Nathan built you, you’d have a smaller dick. Nathan Bateman’s ego and all that.”

Nathan’s eyelids close, his lashes brushing the lenses of his glasses. “I would’ve built him exactly like me,” he says, deeply irritated.

“100% no. You’d have made him smaller. Let me see your dick.” You tug on the strings of his elastic-waisted shorts.

He laughs quietly. “Okay, okay, don’t get pushy.”

Nathan licks his lips, tracing the side of your face with his fingers. Slowly, your smiles fade.

“I cleaned the bedroom up here. If you don’t want to sleep down there. It has a better view,” he says, the hint of a grin on his lips.

You reach up and take off his glasses, wanting to see his eyes without the reflection of the light between you. You set them aside, then scratch your fingers over the thick, dark hair of his beard.

“And you’ll be in that bedroom too?” you ask.

Nathan nods. “It’s my house. My bed.”

“If I move my stuff upstairs, are you going to tell me you love me?”

He looks uncomfortable with the thought. He’s probably never said it. “I want to,” he says. “Obviously, I know I do. I keep telling myself the words themselves are meaningless. But if they mean something to you, then they matter.”

Before, Nathan had been withholding, and part of that had been not saying he loved you. It wasn’t just that, though. It was the wall he’d refused to take down. Vulnerability was unforgivable weakness to Nathan. Part of that, you see now, was him thinking you were weak for being so open about how you felt. You hope he sees things differently now.

Nathan’s hand slides around the back of your neck, the other around your lower back. He pulls you closer to him, holding you more gently than he ever has, more gently than you thought he could.

“Go pack your suitcase. I’ll clean this up and help you get settled up here. And I’ll say it, I promise,” Nathan says, his voice cracking in the middle.

You pull back just enough to look him in the eyes. He tries to look away, but you don’t let him. “Nathan, if you can’t say it yet, it’s okay. I won’t leave.”

He shakes his head. “Of course you will. I never bothered waiting for you to catch up in our relationship. I just dragged you forward, kept things moving. Why would you wait for me now?”

“That’s how love works,” you say, rubbing your fingers over the worry lines in his forehead. “I resented you for a long time. Probably all the way up to a couple of hours ago. I’m not saying I’ve forgiven you completely, but I want to. And I can. Just like you saying you love me. It takes time, but that’s okay. We have time.”

“I don’t deserve it.” He says it so quietly you almost don’t catch it, even though his lips are so close you an feel his breath.

You run your hands over his head, feeling the short, bristly hairs under your palms. “You do, and so do I. Just, try to do your best for me, and I’ll do the same. I think that’s good enough for now.”

“Yeah,” he says, the warm air from his lips kissing yours. It has a whiff of basil from dinner, but underneath that, you can almost taste him. “I want you so fucking much, but things’ll be better this time. Which means, doing this in an actual bed.”

It looks like it pains him to pull away, which makes you smile. He gives your waist a squeeze before taking a step back.

“Go pack,” he gestures to the staircase, picking up his glasses and setting them back on his face. “And leave Bear down there.”

“What?” you ask, the pain of it is like blow to the head. How can he ask that? After a whole, honest conversation, for him to go back to demanding you-

“No, not like that. I didn’t mean it like that. Fuck,” he rushes to say. “I have another Bear up in the bedroom already. Jammed between the pillows like you like.”

“Oh,” you say, sagging with relief.

He heaves a gigantic sigh, the muscles of his shoulders rising and falling. “As if this isn’t hard enough without me making dumbass mistakes like that.”

“You’re trying. It might be awkward sometimes.”

Nathan rests his hands on his hips. “I don’t like being awkward.”

“You like being a control freak. It’s pretty adorable to see you lose it.”

Nathan rubs his forehead, his head tipping down to look at you from over the frames of his glasses. “If I keep trying, you’ll stay, right?”

“Depends,” you shrug.

Nathan swallows, a quiet, nervous energy like an aura around him. “On what?”

“Prove to me you’re a man and not an android,” you smirk.

“Oh. That.” He rolls his eyes. “Go get your shit from the basement, you little perv. Then I’ll drop my shorts, okay?”

“Okay,” you agree happily. You hop off the table and walk a few steps out of your way to kiss Nathan again.

You start to move away, but Nathan’s hands hold your waist. He smiles joylessly. “I love you.”

Your eyes narrow. You lean in closer to his face. “You don’t look like it.”

“Give me a fucking break,” he says under his breath. He drops his head back, looking at the ceiling for a second before bringing his dark eyes back to you. He licks his lips and takes a big breath in and out through his nose.

You turn your head slightly, cupping your hand around your ear. “Well?”

Nathan pushes your hand away, holding your face in front of his. No joking, no uncertainty, and as serious as you’ve ever seen him.

“I love you,” he says. The corner of his beard raises in half a smile. “Better?”

You nod, hugging him. Your head rests against his warm body and for the first time it doesn’t feel like you’re holding on to him and he’s already somewhere else. It feels like you’re holding onto each other. Like this time, he knows your love is real.

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please lmk if you'd like to be removed- i promise not to take it personally!

[stevendameron]

you know what, this SNL promotion pic is so cunty that i blushed everytime i see it

sir, please behave yourself

[stevendameron]

Anything from moon knight reques, surprise me ! Pls

im gonna lean on some steven grant here

i need more dom!steven. because its not entirely unexpected you know?

He's always so socially submissive.. and having a headspace shared with Marc? he absolutely needs an outlet for his frustration and listen that is YOU.

Steven who doesnt babble off as much during sex because he just needs to hear how much you're loving him fucking you- how good it feels- how insatiably fucking good he feels fucking into you like a feral animal.

oh im so normal sorry guys..

[stevendameron]

I'm so sorry for demanding it like this... But I'm very sick right now and threw up all of my dinner... And my parents are giving me hell for it. Could I please have a fic/drabble/HC where the reader is sick and the moon boys/Poe/Nathan takes care of the her?

Not demanding at all! I'm so sorry you're unwell and your parents aren't helping! Massive love and good vibes to you!

I'm so sorry this took so long, here is Sick!Reader with Nathan. (I'm hopefully going to do some little fics with Poe and the Moon Boys in the future!)

I hope you enjoy!

Get Well Soon

Nathan Bateman X F!Reader Rating: T Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?

Warnings: TYPOS, SWEARING, mentions of throwing up, fluff, hurt/comfort, unwell reader, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning!

Word Count: 1273

Taglist: @pleasurebuttonwrites @jake-g-lockley @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit

Your head pounded, your vision throbbing with every beat of your heart. Sickness twisted your stomach. Everything was too much. Even moving slightly made the world lurch to the side and the nausea built in your throat. 

You were curled up on the sofa, afraid that if you got up you would throw up everywhere, and begging whatever higher powers existed in the universe to magically heal you. Or at least grain you a reprieve long enough for you to get to your bed. 

You heard Nathan walk into the room well before you registered what the sounds actually meant. 

He was busying himself in the cupboards, looking for something and muttering under his breath. The sofa faced away from where he was and hid you from his line of sight. 

Part of you was glad. Nathan didn’t exactly stride you as the nurturing, feeding you soup kind of person. More like throwing you outside to avoid getting sick himself. 

To your bad luck, he walked further in the room, still obviously looking for something, and moved passed the sofa and your crumpled up, curled in on yourself form. 

You heard him stop, pausing almost mid step, even with your eyes closed. Internally you groaned. 

“You okay?” There was a quizzical note to his voice despite the fact that you looked very much not okay. 

You shook your head. 

He moved closer to you. “What’s up?”

“Everything.”

“Everything?” He muttered. “I’ll have to tell gravity about that.”

You cracked open your eyes to give him a glare. He was closer than you expected, crouching down next to you so that your faces were barely a hand widths apart. 

“I don’t feel good.”

“You don’t look good.” 

“Thanks.” 

His lip twitched upwards in a smile as he put the back of his hand on your forehead. His skin was a comforting coolness. 

“Yeah, you’re burning up.”

You closed your eyes and groaned, trying to turn your head away from his and bury it in the armrest. Nausea rose in your throat, and panic with it. You screwed up for face and swallowed it down. There was no way you were going to throw up anywhere near him. 

“You gonna be sick?” He asked, so matter of factly.

“No.” You mumbled. 

“You are a shit liar.” He rose and walked away. 

Part of you was glad; at least you won’t have to worry about him being near you. But there was a pang of loss with it, rejection. You pushed it down. 

“Here.” 

You cracked open your eyes again to realise he was back, kneeling his time. You looked down to see the bin in his hands. He placed it on the floor in line with your face. 

“Try to get it in the bin, don’t worry if you don’t.”

You frowned. “Don’t worry if I don’t?”

He shrugged. “I’ll clean it up.”

“You’ll clean it up?” 

He scowled, but there was a hint of amusement to his words. “Are you having cognitive issues, do I need to shine a light in your eyes?” 

You gave him a weak smile and gently pushed at his shoulder. “It’s just... doesn’t seem very like you, you know?”

Nathan pulled a face. “I’ve had my fair share of cleaning up vomit you know, hangovers are a bitch.”

You smiled again, closing your eyes as another way of pain and nausea flared. 

You didn’t see the look of concern that passed over his face. 

“Can I get you anything?” 

You shook your head. 

“Okay.” 

He stood, and you thought in all honesty that that was it. Really, it was better than you expected or even hoped for. You hadn’t been thrown outside and he had brought you the bin. 

A few minutes passed, if anything you were getting worse, your throat tightening and the taste of bile rising. 

It was just as you heard Nathan come into the room again that you realised you were going to be sick. And you couldn’t stop it. 

You lurched forward, managing to grab hold of the bin and throw up into it instead of the floor. Thank god for small mercies. 

“Hey, hey, you’re alright.” You didn’t expect Nathan to rush over, didn’t expect for him to lean down next to you as you threw your guts up. And never in your wildest dreams did you think he would rub your back, making soothing sounds as his cool fingers traced comforting circles. 

“You’re alright.” He said again, his voice low and soft. 

You spit out the last of it, acid on your tongue. 

He took the bin as you lifted your head and put it to the side, pain thumbed along your temples like a hammer against your skull. 

Carefully he helped you sit back, making sure your head rested against the blush back of the sofa.

“Here.” He handed you a bottle of water, opening it for you as he passed it over. 

You took a mouthful, swirling it around your mouth. 

Nathan held the bin out to you again and you spat the water out. 

“I’ll be right back.” He gave your knee a small squeeze as he stood. 

You meant to say something, to watch him go, but the pain behind your eyes was just too much. 

Slowly, you took another sip of the water. It was cold and soothing as you swallowed. 

It was only then that you realised that there was a small pile of things on the opposite end of the sofa, things Nathan had obviously brought with him. 

There were some tablets and a blanket, other items too, but the fluffy blanket obscured your sight of them and you didn’t have the fortitude to move your head any more than you absolutely needed to. 

“Here’s a fresh one.” 

You hadn’t heard Nathan come back this time. He placed another bin on the floor next to you. 

“Thank you.” You muttered. 

He shrugged your words away. “Take these.”

He held out two tablets. 

Normally, you would be all questions, but currently you didn’t care what they were. He could give you speed if that made you feel better. 

You swallowed them down with water.

When you were finished Nathan took the bottle, screwed the lid back on and put it on the coffee table.

“Come on,” he motioned to you. 

Confused, you frowned.

“Let’s lay down.” He put one hand on your cheek, the other on your shoulder, slowly guiding back onto the sofa. 

“Nathan, you don’t need t-”

“Yeah. I know.” He said. There was an expression on his face you just couldn’t place, a relaxed softness that you hadn’t seen before. 

He lifted your legs back onto the cushions and placed the blanket over you. Tiredness overwhelmed you.

“Comfy?”

“Hmmm.”

“Good. I’m just gonna check your temperature. Okay?”

“Hmmm.”

There was a sudden pressure in your ear and a beep. You opened your eyes in surprise.

“Yeah, you got a temperature.” Nathan looked at the ear thermometer and then back to you. He brushed his hand over your cheek. The gentleness of the movement made your breath hitch. 

“Try to get some sleep, yeah?” 

“Alright.” You closed your eyes again and quickly drifted off. 

You weren’t sure what time it was when you opened your eyes. You still felt awful, but slightly less awful than before. 

There was the calming and rhythmic tapping of keys. You bent your head ever so slightly to see Nathan sitting on the floor, leaning his back against the sofa. He was working on his laptop. 

You couldn’t help the smile that blossomed on your face as you fell back asleep.