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talaok · 8 days

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Enjoy the view

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You surprise your husband with a new cooking attire, and he's more than happy to show you how much he appreciates it- even if he has an audience… especially when he knows how much you like it.

Warnings: smut| exhibitionism, voyeurism, cooking practically naked, a lil tiny bit of free use, oral sex (f receiving), butt-play, and unprotected p in v sex.

"I'm home!"

His greeting echoed through the house, and while usually it would be followed by your two little demons running down the stairs to attack their daddy, today, the only response was yours.

"Hi baby, I'm in the kitchen!"

You heard some shuffling as he made himself comfortable before his footsteps started in your direction- only to stop dead in his tracks at the sight before him.

"Babydoll, where are the k-"

You turned around just a little bit, your neck twisting so your gaze could see his face as it settled on your ass.

On your bare ass and bare legs and bare torso and- oh god- on the small apron only covering the lower front of you.

What the actual fuck was his life

And how the actual fuck did he ever get so lucky

He was on you in a split second, his mouth as ravenous as his hands.

You let a soft giggle past your lips as he left hot, wet kisses down your neck, his hands kneading the soft skin of your ass as he pressed his hard cock against it.

"the kids are at my mom's" you murmured, as if the man behind you wasn't worshipping your body

"yeah?" he groaned, his hands on your boobs now

"I'm making us dinner" you explained, resuming cutting the fruit on the cutting board while sticking your ass out even more for him.

"such a good girl, thank you darlin'" he murmured against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

"Can I have my appetizer while you finish up?"

You pretend to ponder the idea, biting your lip

"Tommy's still outside trying to fix the grill, baby"

Of course

Lucky didn't even begin to cover it.

He could just close the curtains facing your backyard, he knew it, just as you did.

But that's not what you wanted

Oh no

His girl liked to be watched

"then we'll just have to hope he doesn't fix it in time, won't we?"

He watched your eyes flutter shut as the words sunk in, and you could only offer a soft "yes" as you presented him the slightest nod

"attagirl" he murmured, kissing you right below your ear "Now don't mind me, keep on cookin'"

You nodded again, humming softly, and he kissed every inch of skin he encountered as he dropped to his knees.

Cold air hit your core as he grabbed each of your asscheeks in his hands and spread them apart like the animal that he was.

You let out a little whine as he admired the work of art before him, but just when you started cutting the fruit before you once again, he'd dived in.

His whole face was deep into your core, his tongue not wasting a second before tasting your sweet juices, wishing he could drink them every day instead of water.

His hands were gripping your waist, holding you in place, even as your body begged to grind against him.

"fuck" you moaned, biting your lips as your left hand gripped the counter.

"tastes like heaven babydoll" Joel groaned, the vibrations of his voice sending shocks of pleasure straight to your core.

You could only continue emanating needy little whimpers as he feasted on your cunt, and then, finding more strength in you than you even knew to even possess, you resumed cutting the strawberry before you.

"Joel" you moaned louder now, his tongue plunging into your pussy and lapping at your walls as your head fell to your chest "baby-god"

And just when you were breathing heavily, feeling your core flutter at the pleasure, his mouth trailed up, his focus shifting to your other hole.

The knife fell to the cutting board and your body slumped forward at the feeling, but while your moans were only getting louder, he was only getting hungrier.

And as much as he loved eating your ass, he needed to hear those pretty sounds you made while coming on his face, so of course...

Your whole body felt a shock of electricity as Joel finally, finally, started sucking on your clit.

"Fuck-fuck- baby- just like tha-oh!"

You came so hard you thought you were gonna pass out, but luckily, he was there to hold you through it, not wasting a drop of what you gave him.

"my perfect fukin' girl" he murmured lovingly, kissing your cunt one last, overstimulating time before he was once again standing pressed against your back.

"enjoyed yourself?" he asked, biting your earlobe as you tried to will your breathing to get back to normal

"yes" you smiled, forgetting all about your task as you turned around towards him, clatching his lips into a deep, searing kiss.

"yeah?" he asked again, a smug, sexy grin on him as he let you taste yourself on his tongue once again

"mh-mh"

"I think someone else did too"

And when his gaze shifted to his left, you knew.

You didn't need to look to know what he was looking at, but you did nonetheless.

Tommy was standing on the other side of the glass door, his eyes set onto you like a starving predator, and you could only gasp.

"Joel-"

"shh" he hummed, kissing the side of your lips "It's ok," he said, while your eyes remained on his brother "You wanna give Tommy a show babydoll?"

But of course, he knew the answer already,

you've done this before,

hell, before Tommy had gotten himself a wife too, you'd even let him join once or twice.

"I mean..." you whimpered, as Joel undid his zipper while kissing your neck "He's fixed the grill for us after all"

He chuckled, finishing your thought for you

"he deserves a reward, doesn't he?"

"I think he does" You nodded, looking up at him with pleading eyes, as if there was a chance he'd ever not do something you wanted.

"You're so kind" he murmured, picking you up just to set you on a free spot on the counter "Such a perfect selfless wife that I've got, mh?"

You could only grin, giggling softly as he kissed you again.

"let's show Tommy how beautiful you look while coming on my cock then shall we?"

"yes please"

Your answer was breathless, desperate, just as the moan you let out once he finally guided his length inside of you, taking his time to let you adjust...and so he could enjoy the faces you made all for him... and his brother.

"good girl" he groaned, easing himself out of you almost completely just to thrust back in at full force, making you cry out and throw your head back.

"Oh f-fuck"

"I know" he cooed, only going faster, deeper, as you arched your back, your nails clawing at his back "I know baby, you take me so well" he murmured, against your mouth "So deep inside this perfect fucking pussy"

"Joel!" you gasped, his dick hitting your sweet spot over and over together with his dirty words.

And when you glanced to your right, when you saw Joel's brother, the sibling to the man who was currently railing you on your kitchen counter palming his hard cock from the confines of his jeans, his eyes glued on you... it was like a volcano of pleasure exploded,

a dirty, twisted, dark kind of pleasure

"yeah look at Tommy" Joel groaned "Poor guy's probably so jealous he's not the one balls deep into ya baby" One of his hands moved from your waist to pinch your nipple, making you cry out just to prove a point "he's probably wishin' he could come here and fuck you himself baby" he continued, his thrusts getting harsher, faster "but he's not gonna" he growled "and ya know why?" he asked,

"'cause I'm yours" you moaned, looking him into his lusty eyes

He moaned too this time, he never could help himself when you said those three magic words

'cause fuck him, but he still sometimes struggled to believe you were his himself

"goodamn right you are" he smirked, crashing your lips with his, as the room filled with the filthy sound of your wet heat accommodating his movements.

"Show him sugar" he urged "Show Tommy who you belong to" he murmured, watching as you turned your head to his brother again

"show him who's the only man who's ever gonna touch you baby girl," he said "and how fuckin' good you look creamin' my cock"

And so you did what he said, you looked his brother right in the eyes as you screamed Joel's name at the top of your lungs, wave after wave after wave of pleasure coursing through you as you came hard around Joel's cock.

"Fuckin' perfect-" Joel purred, kissing your chin as his orgasm approached "fuckin' mine"

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kiss-me-cill-me · 5 months

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Follow Me Down

Pairing: Robert Fischer x Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: Dealing with Robert's advances feels like a full time job in itself. When he finally pushes you past your breaking point at a company party, you decide that it's time to teach him a lesson.

Warnings: Smut, hate sex, semi-public sex, mean reader, pushy/bratty Robert, kind of switch!Robert, S&M themes, oral (f receiving), face sitting, high heel kink, spit kink, choking, non-consensual creampie, name calling (including one use of "bitch"), workplace harassment, degradation, misogyny, mentions of drinking/alcohol, reader insults Robert by suggesting that he would spike her drink (but it does not actually happen)

A/N: Are New Year's Eve fics a thing? If not, they should be haha. I love New Year's Eve, so as a little early present, please enjoy this piece of absolute filth. Title was inspired by George Taylor's song Come Follow Me Down, which I listened to on repeat while writing the smut portion of this. Thank you for reading, and I'm wishing you all a great start to 2024!

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

Robert Fischer was the kind of man who had everything handed to him in life, and it showed. He was petulant, unserious, and thoughtless. Or at least, mostly thoughtless; he did possess the very annoying ability to badger the living hell out of someone in order to get what he wanted. And tonight, as was so unfortunately often the case, the focus of his one-track mind was you.

He was trailing after you now, either oblivious to or willfully ignorant of the look of annoyance plastered over your face as you tried to lose him. He barely had to hurry to keep up.

“Don’t be shy asking for my help with closing that big merger if you need it,” he told you.

You grimaced. You knew how to do your job.

“Robert, let’s not talk about work while we’re off the clock,” you said shortly, trying to make your voice as sweet as possible so that he wouldn’t have an excuse to comment on your tone.

You were at the company’s New Year’s Eve party. Ostensibly, this was the last of (too many) excuses littered throughout the year for the big wig executives to drink expensive booze and make fools of themselves on the company dime. And, annoyingly, it was also yet another opportunity for Fischer to try and sleep with you.

“Okay. Let me get you a drink then,” he offered.

You decided you were done being sweet. You stopped and turned on your heel to face him.

“I wouldn’t leave you alone with my drink for two seconds, much less accept one you’d gotten your grubby little mitts on,” you hissed.

Robert made no indication that he understood what you were insinuating. Instead, he rested a hand on your waist, tugging you just a bit closer to him.

“Then I’ll escort you to the bar,” he said. “And I’ll even keep my hands on you, so you’ll know that I haven’t touched your drink.”

He was disgusting.

“Why don’t you escort yourself?” you shot back, shaking out of his grip.

You were abstaining from drinks tonight, wanting to keep your wits about you just in case Robert tried to get too handsy. Or, handsier than he usually was. This was a fairly frequent occurrence, and although you were used to it, it still pissed you off. Robert was nothing you couldn’t handle, but the arrogant rich boy attitude got old quick. It annoyed you that you couldn’t say anything without risking the job you had worked so hard for. Unlike him, you hadn’t been born into a world that put you automatically on a pedestal. On the contrary, it often felt like people were trying to kick you off the ledge.

Robert was walking behind you again, thankfully keeping his hands to himself even as he hovered at your heels, and you walked deeper into the party. All around you, drunken coworkers reveled and laughed. There was only about one hour left in the year, and by god the company was going to spend it drinking enough champagne to kill an elephant.

“Come on,” Robert called behind you, still trailing. “Don’t you know how to take a joke?”

You ignored him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response. As you wove your way through the crowd, one of the higher-ups signaled to you.

You jumped at the opportunity, hoping that Robert would at least have the common decency to leave you be while you were talking to a man who was essentially your boss. But of course, rules and manners didn’t apply to Robert Fischer like they would to anyone else. As you talked with the executive about mergers and acquisitions, Robert stood directly behind you. Practically breathing down your neck. You had to bite your tongue when he placed a hand on the small of your back again. What the hell did he think he was doing?

After a few minutes, the higher-up - slightly intoxicated - excused himself and wandered off, leaving you alone again with the man who was quickly becoming the bane of your existence.

“Robert-” you started to bark.

“God, you’re sexy when you talk business,” Robert interrupted.

You were facing him again, his arm still wrapped around you possessively. You caught a whiff of bourbon on his breath. He certainly wasn’t drunk, but the alcohol had clearly loosened his tongue. Usually he wasn’t this forward. You frowned.

“And you’re an unprofessional prick.”

Your outburst almost seemed to shock you more than it did Robert. His expression never faltered, except to allow a small smirk to spread across his lips.

“Sweetheart, don’t flatter me like that,” he teased. “A pretty girl like you could give a guy like me ideas.”

He raised his eyebrows at you as he said “ideas,” lowering his voice a bit. You got the message.

“I’m sorry if I was unclear,” you said, trying not to speak through clenched teeth. “But the only idea I want to give you is to leave me the hell alone.”

Robert put his hands up, pretending to look wounded. Or maybe he was going for shocked. As if you hadn’t made it abundantly clear already just how uninterested you were. He took a step back, to your relief.

“Okay, I can see you need some time to cool off,” he relented. Finally, you were getting somewhere. “But can you really blame me for getting mixed signals?”

You had no idea what Robert was talking about, until he started pointing above him. Your eyes trailed up, and you saw for the first time a little sprig of mistletoe, hanging in the hallway. A leftover from the company’s Christmas decorations. Of all the places you could have been standing… When you looked back at Robert, your mouth was a thin line.

“What are you, twelve?” you asked.

He just smiled.

“Christmas is over, Robert,” you said coldly.

As you started to walk away, he called after you.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying!”

Fischer was right about one thing - you did need some time to cool off. Being around him made your skin crawl. It made you feel like you needed a shower and a guzzle of holy water, just to exorcize any lingering traces of him from your system. A gin and tonic would probably have at least some of the same effects. And you were craving one, but you reminded yourself that you needed to stay sharp. Robert had left you alone for now, but it was only a matter of time before he would be back. You settled for just the tonic.

Rubbing your head as you walked through the party, horribly bitter drink in hand, you wondered why you had even bothered to come. So much of what you did was for the sake of appearances. Anything to claw your way ahead. Though of course, even you had limits. Sleeping with Fischer would, ironically, probably end in a boon to your career. But you definitely weren’t about to let yourself sink to that level.

You looked down at your gin-less tonic, twist of lime bobbing lazily in the bubbles. Why were you even drinking this? It certainly wasn’t for the taste. You dumped the rest of your drink in a potted plant, and set the empty glass down on a table.

This party was a total drag. But, you figured, at least you wouldn’t have to go far to find a little solitude. One of the benefits of working for an insanely wealthy company like Fischer Morrow was that even mid-level employees like you got extravagant offices. Your high heels clicked against the tile as you strode off, eager to leave the maddening din - and Robert Fischer - behind.

You reached your office door, and instantly knew that something was off. Behind the frosted windows, you could tell that the lights were on. The party was on the floor below yours; there should have been nobody up here, much less in your private office. Maybe it was just one of the cleaners, working late. Well, no problem. They would be easy enough to get rid of, and then you could regroup and prepare yourself for the remainder of a night full of fending off Robert’s advances. You pushed open the door.

Really, you should have seen this coming. Of course it wasn’t going to be this easy to get rid of him.

“Robert,” you sighed. You took in the sight of him, sitting in your swivel chair and looking very pleased with himself. “Do I really have to ask you to get out of my office?”

“Not if you don’t want me to,” he taunted, effortlessly throwing your own words back at you. He winked, and you narrowed your eyes.

You walked over to your desk, large and shiny with a stained walnut finish. It was an expensive piece of furniture, and one that Robert somehow managed to look right at home sitting behind. As if he owned the place. Which was closer to the truth than you particularly liked to think about.

“Why do you enjoy doing this?�� you asked, not expecting a real answer.

“I just like getting a rise out of you,” Robert said.

It sounded strangely honest. You leaned over your desk, staring down at him. Trying to size him up.

“You’re very mean when you want to be,” Robert continued, almost observationally.

You weren’t sure where he was going with this. Sure, you could be mean. It was part of the reason why you’d achieved the position you were in now; you didn’t advance in business by being a pushover.

Robert, you noticed, was currently staring down the front of your dress. You scrambled to stand up, and crossed your arms over your chest. The little pervert wasn’t even trying to hide it. You circled the desk, coming to rest on the side where Robert still sat, watching you calmly. You silently willed him to get out of your chair; to leave your office and give you twenty seconds of peace. He didn’t, of course, and so you took a seat on the desk, crossing your legs and tapping one foot in the air.

“So, what? Do you get off on me being mean to you or something?” you pressed.

Robert shrugged, neither confirming nor denying. For some reason, that infuriated you even more. You hated his smug face; that little smirk he was wearing right now that meant he was getting what he wanted. You had the sudden urge to slap him. Maybe that would teach him a lesson.

“And what about you?” Robert asked. “What do you get out of this?”

“Me?!” You were incredulous. “Christ. What could I possibly be getting out of putting up with you constantly bothering me?”

Robert shrugged again, and your desire to slap him grew.

“Maybe you get off on it too,” he guessed. “Being mean, that is.”

“You think I get off on doing this?” you scoffed. “Do you ever think about anything besides sex?”

“You’re the one who brought up getting off; not me.”

You were really going to lose it. You could barely see Fischer sitting in front of you now for all of the angry red that was swirling through your vision. He thought he could walk in here, sit at your desk, and then tell you you got off on being mean to him? He didn’t know how mean you could be.

“What’s your end goal with all this, Robert? You really think you’re gonna get to live out whatever twisted fantasy you’ve made me a part of in that sick little head of yours?”

“Maybe,” Robert said nonchalantly. You could feel him undressing you with his eyes.

“Yeah? What are you hoping to do to me?” you prodded. You didn’t care what you were saying anymore; you were way past the point of professionalism. “Probably tie me up and watch me try to fight you off, right?”

Robert looked up at you very calmly, holding your angry gaze as he answered you.

“I’d rather have you step on me with those heels,” he said.

You were taken aback.

“Excuse me?”

“I said: I want you to step on me with those slutty little stilettos you keep waving in my face,” he repeated.

You froze. One foot was braced against the drawers of your desk, and the other was poised in the air, hovering just in front of Robert’s knee as he sat in your chair.

“What’s the matter?” Robert asked. “I warned you you’d give a guy like me ideas, didn’t I?”

Part of you was in shock. This was not how you had expected this interaction to go. But another part of you - a corner of your mind that you didn’t even want to acknowledge - really was turned on by the idea of putting him in his place. You grinned.

“What makes you think I’d do that for you?” you hummed, mocking him.

Before he had a chance to respond, you lifted your foot and pressed the sharp point of your heel against the fleshy part of Robert’s shoulder. His expensive suit jacket started to crease. You pushed your heel in a little more, pushing him back just an inch.

Robert’s eyes started to wander, trying to sneak a look under your dress as you sat in front of him, your leg lifted up to press into his shoulder.

“You’re a pig,” you told him, shifting your foot so that it was in the middle of his chest.

The new angle made it a little harder for him to get a peek, with your legs more pressed together. Robert’s eyes drifted back to your face, a look of restrained amusement dancing across his own features. He was trying to play it cool, but you noticed the way his fingers dug into the chair’s leather armrests.

“Just another pretty boy in a suit,” you continued, inching the toe of your shoe up toward his collar.

The point of your heel was right over his sternum, and Robert started to smile. He really was enjoying this, and the realization both repulsed and aroused you.

“Think you can take whatever you want. You need to be put in your place.”

You pushed back with your foot, making Robert’s chair roll a few inches so that you had space to stand up between him and the desk. You planted one foot on the floor, and the other directly over his crotch, pressing in with the dull toe of your shoe. The point of your heel rested on the chair in front of him, between his slightly parted legs. You weren’t trying to impale the poor man, but the devious look that Robert fixed on you as you towered over him almost made it look like he would have preferred if you did.

“Told you y’get off on being mean,” he teased.

You grabbed hold of his tie and pulled his face closer to yours as you looked down at him.

“Robert, if you think this is what a woman looks like when she gets off, I have some very bad news for you. Why don’t you show me what that pretty mouth is good for?”

You pushed away from him, climbing back up on the desk and spreading your legs. The tight black dress you wore rode up your thighs, and Robert instantly dropped to his knees in front of you. He hooked a finger into the crotch of your panties, using it to drag them to the side until you were on display for him.

“You can deny all you want,” he mocked, “but you wouldn’t be this wet if you really didn’t enjoy it.”

“Jesus. Stop talking,” you ordered.

You shoved his face between your legs, and his tongue eagerly came out to lick at you. You were wet - there really wasn’t any denying it - but you didn’t need him pointing out that fact as if he weren’t the one desperately lapping at your cunt. Robert was the pathetic one here; you were really just going along with things to teach him a lesson. If he wanted you to walk all over him, you would make sure he regretted ever crossing paths with you. And if you happened to get off while doing it - well, you'd just chalk that down as some much-needed stress relief. Dealing with Robert was exhausting.

You hooked your legs over his arms, pinning him in place as he balanced himself against the desk. As much as you hated to admit it, he was good at this. Very good. His tongue was lavishing you; his blue eyes never breaking contact with yours as he ate you out. The way he was looking up at you felt dirty and yet dangerously addicting, all at the same time. Your hand tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer as your breath hissed through your teeth. Abruptly, you pulled him away.

“Get on the desk,” you commanded, a little out of breath.

Robert stood up, wiped his smug face, and started to climb up onto the desk.

“On your back.”

He laid down, swinging his feet up so that he was fully spread out across the hard surface. You reached up under your dress to remove your panties. Having him hold them to the side was only getting in the way.

You carefully got up on the desk with him, knees resting on either side of his face.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” you scoffed, half for your own benefit.

“Think of it this way,” Robert smirked beneath you. “Isn’t it gonna make you happy to wipe this smile off my face?”

“I thought I told you to shut up.”

You sat down, putting almost your full weight on his face. Robert reached up to grab hold of your thighs, supporting you, and you were actually grateful for it even though it gave him an opportunity to grope at your ass. Your legs were getting weaker every second, and you could feel yourself tipping over the edge.

Part of the thrill was from being in such a compromising position. Before, if someone had walked in, there was a chance that Robert could stand up and you would be able to smooth down your dress in time to avoid getting caught. But now… well, riding a man’s face as he was splayed out on the desk beneath you was a little harder to recover from, logistically.

You ground your hips down, so tantalizingly close to coating his face in your release. Robert seemed to sense your urgency, and dug his fingers into your flesh, practically begging for it. His tongue dragged roughly across your clit, sucking with just the right pressure.

Your mouth hung open as you came, at first frozen in a silent scream and then moaning, sinfully, as an orgasm rolled over you. You seemed to shake from your shoulders down into your knees, and Robert’s tongue lapped up all of your arousal. He pressed his lips to your clit one final time as you slid off of him.

When your hips were straddling his, Robert sat up to hold you. His hands were hungry, grabbing at your waist as he tried to pull you closer and into a kiss.

“No kissing,” you choked out, putting a hand on his chest to stop him.

Robert didn't try to push past you, just paused and looked up at you with light, teasing eyes.

“Come on, sweetheart. It's New Year's Eve. You're not gonna give me a kiss at midnight?”

You swallowed, not trusting your shaky voice to respond without giving him more fuel to taunt you with. He didn't need it.

“Even after you already let me wrap my lips around your pretty cunt?”

Your hand on his chest pressed down, pushing him back onto the hard wood. Robert smiled again, proud of himself for getting to you. He really did know how to wind you up.

“You’re such a typical rich boy,” you spat. “So used to getting anything you ask for.”

“Usually I don’t even have to ask,” Robert corrected.

“Right. Other women just throw themselves at you?” You felt your hatred flare.

He gave you that knowing look again, but kept his smirking mouth shut. You noticed the way your arousal still glistened against his lips. The whole lower half of his face, actually, was drenched, and the sight of it sent a pang of renewed desire all through you.

Suddenly, Robert’s grip tightened at your waist. He bunched up the fabric of your dress, exposing you a little more, and forced you down onto his leg.

“Use me to get yourself off.”

Already impatient, his hands had started to pull at your hips, making you rock back and forth. The cloth of his suit pants brushed roughly against your exposed clit, still sensitive from his earlier treatment. But still, it felt good. Too good.

“Robert-”

You had opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off.

“Mm, say my name, baby.”

He was so full of himself. Something snapped in you, and your hand flew up to his neck. As your grip tightened, Robert only threw his head back.

“Honestly, do you ever shut up?” you spat.

Despite yourself, your hips started to stutter against him, desperate to rub harder as the pressure started to build in you again. For whatever reason, you found yourself going along with Robert’s demands once more. Your hand on his neck squeezed.

“You really do get everything you want,” you hissed, teeth clenching against the ache that was rapidly growing between your legs.

“Not true,” Robert choked out beneath you. His voice was straining from your grip, but you could still hear the hint of satisfaction. “I haven’t gotten to stick it in you yet.”

Your walls clenched around nothing, and you hated how his words could affect you. You angrily took it out on him, pressing the hand on his neck down even harder. Robert hissed out through his teeth, then dissolved into a rough cry of pleasure.

“Fuck," you gasped.

Your grip loosened, suddenly, as a wave of ecstasy came crashing over you for the second time. It was unexpected and fast, taking you by such surprise that you fell forward on the desk a little, caging Robert’s face with your arms. Your stomach churned with embarrassment as the feeling faded, and you realized that just the sound of his voice had been enough to push you over the edge.

You looked down, and saw Robert’s eyes full of mirth. His face was flushed, blood rushing back now that your hand was off him. A few strands of hair stood out of place against his forehead. Honestly, he was a mess; clothes all wrinkled and normally-neat red tie knocked askew. You could feel yourself dripping. His very expensive suit pants were probably ruined. Although, that was really his problem.

“Tell me again how you don’t get off on being mean?” Robert rasped below you.

You were panting, and clearly in no position to answer him. But even if you had been able to speak, you certainly weren’t about to tell him that it had been his animalistic moan that really made you come. Robert started to sit up a little, keeping one arm around your waist.

“You hate me so much.” Robert’s voice was still slightly hoarse, but there was that tone of amusement, as usual.

“Poor little rich boy.”

It was all you could think to say, still trying to recover from two orgasms back to back. Robert gave you a look that was almost pitying.

“When are you gonna admit that you’re just jealous?” Robert purred.

You gave him a look of disgust, hoping your scowl would communicate everything that you couldn’t verbalize. Your head was still reeling, dizzy from the rush.

“You think you’re better than everyone else just because you have to scramble to get ahead? Please. You wish you had it as easy as me.” Robert’s hands came up to grasp at your wrists, holding you in place as he brought his lips close to yours. “But lucky for me, you’re not above sleeping your way to the top.”

Is that really what he thought this was? No. That wasn’t the reason for this. Inch by inch, Robert was bringing his lips closer to you. This bastard, thinking he understood you. Infuriated, you did the only thing you could think to do, and spit on him.

He stopped, but didn’t look particularly surprised. The trail of spit started to drip down his face, mixing on his cheek with the leftover sheen of your arousal. Calmly, Robert brought a hand up to his face and wiped off the efforts of your rebellion.

“I knew there was a reason I liked you, sweetheart.”

In the next instant, Robert’s hands were at his belt, nimble fingers working the buckle. You noticed for the first time how painfully stretched his pants were. He had to be in agony. But, you thought bitterly, that was probably exactly how he wanted it.

“Here - why don’t you spit on my cock?” he goaded, pulling himself out of his briefs.

Your eyes blew wide at the sight of him. That certainly explained the amount of confidence he had. You struggled to shoot back a response.

“In your dreams,” you muttered.

“Don’t be like that,” Robert chided, pouting a little bit.

As much as he liked to act, you could tell that he wasn’t really hurt. Someone as arrogant as Robert Fischer could never be truly bothered by anything. This was merely an inconvenience. He pinched your cheeks between his rough fingers, forcing you to look down at his dick with your mouth open. A long, wet rope of saliva fell from your lips.

“There, was that so hard?”

Robert’s pinching hand left your face as he brought it down to rub at his length, hastily working your spit over himself.

“This is for your benefit anyway,” he winked. “Don’t want it to hurt you too much.”

You watched, almost mesmerized, as he pumped himself a few more times. Satisfied, he stood up, taking you with him. Standing in your heels, you were almost as tall as him, and he looked directly into your eyes.

“Now, do you want me to fuck you over the desk, or up against the wall?”

You almost couldn’t believe his audacity. You glared at him, a heavy, electrical silence hanging between you.

“Tick-tock, sweetheart.”

“Go to hell, Robert,” you answered.

“Well, then I guess we’re doing what I want.” He smiled. “How ironic.”

He lifted you up in one swift motion, and then your back was against the wall. The head of his cock was pressing into you, and the stretch was almost painful.

“So fuckin’ tight,” he hissed. “Just what I would expect from a stuck-up little bitch.”

His words stung, but not as much as the snap of his hips as he thrust into you, forcing a little whine out of your lips. You grit your teeth, trying to muffle your reaction.

“You squeeze me so good when you’re angry,” Robert laughed. “Fuck.”

His hands were digging into you, holding you up as he pulled out and then pressed greedily back in. Your head pushed back against the wall, overwhelmed by his size.

“What’s wrong, baby? Too much for you?” he teased.

“You- wish-”

Your words cut off as Robert fucked sharply into you again, then paused. You wrapped your legs tighter around him, pulling his hips against you as you tried to hold yourself up. It only made him push deeper.

“Fuck, Robert-!”

You cried out, interrupting yourself again, and felt his lips brush against your neck.

“I didn’t even move that time, baby,” he smirked.

You couldn’t stand to see him so smug. Somewhere deep inside yourself, you found strength.

“W-what are you waiting for, then? Get to work, pretty boy.”

Robert grinned as he thrust into you, even more powerfully than before. You wanted to whimper, but bit your tongue. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“You really are something else,” Robert chuckled.

His pace had started to speed up, and now he was pumping in and out of you relentlessly, each thrust pushing you back against the wall. Your body had finally adjusted to his girth, and you were almost starting to enjoy the stretch. Not to mention the way that his head hit a certain spot inside of you, nearly making you fall apart every time he brushed against it.

You were finding it harder and harder to suppress your moans, and every now and then one would slip out of your tightly-pressed lips. Robert seemed to speed up every time he heard you whimper.

“Fuck!” you swore, as he hit a particularly deep spot.

“You take my cock so well,” he grunted. Even trying to keep his cool, it was clear that he was only seconds away from release. “Now let’s see how you take my cum.”

“Not… not inside,” you panted.

“Don’t- fucking- tell me what to do.”

“Don't fucking come in me!”

Pressed against the wall, your options for retaliation were limited. Your legs could do nothing but wrap around him; his hands stopping you from putting your feet on the floor. Your own hands were occupied gripping at the lapels of his suit, hanging on for dear life as he split you open. Really, the only available part of you was your mouth.

Your lips bruised hard against his, taking his bottom lip between your teeth and biting hard enough that you hoped it hurt. Robert let out a muffled growl against you, and you sank your teeth in more.

Somewhere far away, a clock chimed and the party below you surged drunkenly. Robert thrust his hips into you one last time, and then you felt him painting your walls; cum leaking out of you as he held you, still suspended in the air. As the buzzing in your head started to fade, you realized he was smiling against your lips.

You jaw relaxed just enough for Robert to pull himself away. His lip was bruised; angry red from where your teeth had scraped him. He was even more disheveled than he had been, and, somehow, even more satisfied with himself.

“Ended up giving me that kiss anyway,” he rasped, voice still heavy from exertion and lust. “And right at midnight, too.”

You felt your hatred surge again, weakly. You were exhausted; barely able to keep yourself upright when Robert finally set you on your feet. He stepped away, leaving you to tug down your dress and try to make yourself presentable. A very difficult task, considering you still had fresh cum leaking out of you. Your eyes quickly scanned the floor for your panties. You would not stoop to searching on your hands and knees for them. Not until Robert left your office, at least.

Robert finished zipping his pants and replacing his belt, shiny silver buckle clicking under his fingers. He tugged at his suit, barely making a dent in the wrinkles, and smoothed a hand over his hair.

“Well, I would say ‘same time next week,’ but I think it would be easier to pencil you in at lunch,” Robert joked. “Maybe we can finally have that drink before I take you back to my office. You’ll have a really nice view of the city while I fuck you against the window.”

You really couldn’t believe the nerve. Although, by now, it should have been easy to expect no less from Robert. You walked right up to him and planted a finger in the center of his chest.

“If you think I’m ever having sex with you again, you’re twice as delusional as I thought you were,” you huffed.

Robert took one more long look at you, and shrugged.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

#robert fischer x reader #robert fischer #robert fischer smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #LemmyFics

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as-is-above-so-below · 5 months

Text

Cardigan - John Price x F!Teacher!Reader

Part 2: Midnight Rain

summary: you get yourself in a pickle a/n: hi! I return again! I'm sorry it's short, but I'm trying a new method of posting. Instead of aiming for a specific word count (which leads to me getting writer's block and not posting ANYTHING), I write until I'm satisfied with what I'm trying to achieve. Hopefully, I've achieved that goal, and y'all like it :) Blessed be! << Previous | Next >>

You drummed your fingers against the notebook in your lap and gnawed on the top of your pen. It was late, even by your standards; the sun had long since set, and dinner eaten hours ago. But you were up, sitting in the dark in your living room, heavy rain pelting your old windows. You were trying to pull together a new lesson plan for the following day. A few curious students had started asking questions about the modern military. Like, key differences between military strategies used in the time they were studying and today. And, of course, yet again, you made promises that you were struggling to keep. And you always keep your promises to your students.

Fuck.

The internet wasn’t helping at all. You didn’t study military strategy in any of your courses. Was that even a thing?

The last thing you wanted to do was call him. You were so confident that you could solve your problem yourself, at nine o’clock. Now, it was past midnight, and you were absolutely desperate.

Fuck.

Before your tired brain can flood with guilt and change its mind, you grab your phone from your nightstand and tap into your recent calls log. Your stomach churned, anxiety bubbling up with every trill. God, it’s so fucking late to be calling. It felt like you were split in two. One half of you was praying that his phone was on silent (you know it’s not) or he’ll sleep through the ringing (he won’t), while the other–the miserable, exhausted half–needed him to pick up.

The latter won out.

“Y/N? Are you alright?”

John’s deep, sleepy voice made you feel guilty and incredibly happy that you’d woken him up. Soft and grumbly, rolling in his chest; it made you feel soft and warm inside…

Not the point of the call.

“Hi, John. I’m completely fine, I just…” You took a deep breath, the heel of your free hand pressed into one of your dry, worn-out eyes. “I know you’re this big important captain, and you have work in the morning, but I’m in a bit of a pickle and need a massive favor.”

There was a slight rustling on the other end like he had turned slightly to check the nearby time. “It’s one o’clock in the morning, love,” he mumbled.

You felt even worse. “I know, I’m sorry. Please don’t hate me,” you begged, running a hand over the top of your head. “One of my kids asked about the military. It sparked a whole discussion in class, and I may have overstated my knowledge. I barely know anything about it, and my brain is turning to mush. I’m so tired I wanna cry, and-”

He quickly cut off your rambling. “Woah, hey. Slow down there. What’s going on?” he asked, suddenly sounding much more awake.

That brought you pause. You honestly hadn’t thought what you would ask if John actually answered the phone through. It was one o’clock in the morning, which John had correctly pointed out, and your brain wasn’t operating at full capacity.

“I was…wondering if you could give me a lesson. Because I’m super tired, and I like to hear you talk.”

“…You do?”

“Yeah. I’ve learned a lot from you just…talking to me? But I’m a history teacher. I’m an expert on wars, not war.”

There was some shuffling on the phone. On the other line, John was leaning over the edge of his bed, searching blindly for his little pocket planner in the pile of clothes on the floor. The rustling stopped when he placed the device on his pillow, rifling through the calendar. He sniffed and was quiet for a moment, while you nibbled anxiously at your pen. Again.

The silence finally broke with a tired sniffle from John. “I can do you better. Why don’t I come to your classes tomorrow?” he asked.

You froze, pen still between your teeth. John? Coming to your school? Spending the day with your students? That would be the equivalent of introducing your boyfriend to your children.

“…Really?”

“Sure.”

Could you even call him your boyfriend? You’d been on a few dates, sure, over the last…two months? No, it was closer to three. Had it been that long already? You did some quick math in your head. You’d gone on about one date a week, with a few canceled due to last-minute commitments. Still, about one date a week, over three months…

Holy shit.

“John, I’m sure you’re busy. I couldn’t-”

“Not at all,” he hummed, cutting you off. “Besides, it would take me ‘til class tomorrow to give you a good enough rundown, and the boss loves shite like this.”

“I thought you were the boss?”

You could practically hear a small smile tugging at John’s lips. The expression was a familiar one. The corner of his mouth quirked up, shifting his beard and creating happy wrinkles near his eyes. His nose would scrunch up a bit, too, especially if you were out in cold weather.

“Everybody has a boss, sweetness. Myself included.”

Christ. Not the pet names. And especially not in the tired, gravelly tone his voice was currently in. John Price was going to be the death of you, even in his unfocused state.

You unfolded your legs from underneath you and moved your notebook onto the coffee table. Your resolve was fading, and you couldn’t be bothered to argue. While you did feel bad about dragging John to your school to fix the problem you created, you weren’t sure you had any other option. Accept defeat? To a group of teenagers? Absolutely not. You’d never live it down. You sighed, rubbing tiredly at your eyes. “If you’re sure…”

“I am.”

A soft smile crossed your face. “Is this just a ploy to meet my kids?”

“Maybe.”

Your sleepy giggles were like music to John’s ears. The sound alone was worth the favor. As if he wouldn’t have done it anyway, just to ease your stress. He would take any and every opportunity to make your day easier or make you happy. What he wouldn’t give to hear that laugh in person, laying beside you in your bed–

No. John’s a good man. A gentleman, he would say. A man who was perfectly capable of not acting on his urges and thoughts. At least, not in person. However, in the privacy of his own home? That was a different story.

“Thank you so much, John.”

Right. You’re still on the phone. He heard a soft click on your end of the call.

“That’d better be you closing your laptop, I’m hearing.”

“It is.”

“Good girl.” You blushed furiously. Fuck. “Get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight.”

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#captain john price x f!reader #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #john price x f!reader #john price x teacher!reader #call of duty #captain john price #cardigan as is above so below #as is above so below #cod mw #mw fics #call of duty fanfic #modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare ii #teacher!reader #john price x afab!reader

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senp1i · 4 months

Text

(G)-Idle Yuqi x Male reader

Words: 4175 req: @dav1233555

The deafening screams and cheers of the fans were still ringing in Yuqi's ears as she finally staggered off stage, her members similarly buzzing with adrenaline energy around her.

But despite the adrenaline still pumping through her blood, the person on Yuqi's mind in this moment wasn't one of her G-IDLE members, or even her fans...it was him - her boyfriend who she hadn't seen in months thanks to their conflicting schedules and due to her world tour.

She had resigned herself to their usual lengthy separation after shows, only able to stay connected through short, delayed phone calls and video chats. It was the new normal when you both had demanding careers in different countries. But then yesterday he texted, out of the blue that he flew out and would be at this Seoul show to surprise her, and Yuqi hadn't stopped smiling since.

Weaving through the organised backstage chaos, she scanned the crowds of staff urgently, not even bothering to change yet. Where was he? Her stomach fluttered with a mixture of anxiety and nerves. What if she misunderstood and he wasn't actually...

And then she spotted him - leaning casually against a concrete wall looking unfairly hot in dark jeans and a black tshirt that hugged his tall, bulky frame. He was watching her approach with that smile she had missed for months, the one that made his eyes crinkle at the corners like a crescent moon and her heart skips several beats.

"Oh my god!, you're actually here!" Yuqi squealed, launching herself at him recklessly. Strong arms caught her, spinning her in a circle as she wrapped her legs around his waist. She was dimly aware of people probably staring, but she didn't care one bit. Laughing, he set her down gently. "Of course I'm here baby! You didn't think I would miss your show in Seoul did you?" His large hands lingered on her hips, thumbs just barely grazing the strip of bare skin between her “tank top” and leather pants.

"Ahem!"

The unexpected loud throat clearing jolted them back to semi-coherent reality. Breaking apart awkwardly, Yuqi felt her cheeks flame as she met the dancing backup singer's amused smirk. Whoops.

"Maybe we should continue this somewhere more private?" Y/N suggested, equally red if not more but his eyes still heated. Yuqi quickly agreed, grabbing his hand to lead him away before they scared any other staff members.

They bid goodbye to her members, who sent them off with eyebrow waggles and whistles. Soyeon made some cheeky comment about using protection that Yuqi pointedly ignored. There were more important things on the brain right now, like fucking her boyfriend into the next life….

The sexually charged tension from earlier snapped back instantly once alone in the car. Yuqi just couldn't keep her hands to herself - after being deprived of his touch for so long, she desperately needed to feel him. Starting innocently on his thigh, her hand wandered higher each red light, loving his sharp inhales when she "accidentally" touched the front of his jeans.

"Fuck..." he choked out, grabbing her wrist before she made contact. "Behave, unless you want me to wreck this rental..."

Yuqi just bit her swollen bottom lip, eyes dancing, this was going to be fun...

By some miracle they arrived at her apartment intact. They barely shut the front door before crashing together again like magnets. Clothes disappeared rapidly between sloppy kisses. His shirt hit the floor, followed by her half-zipped leather pants stumbling down the hall. Falling sideways onto the unmade bed finally skin to skin, all remaining rational thoughts out the window.

Propping himself up on one elbow, he allowed himself a long appreciative look at the gorgeous naked woman before him. From her flushed face and kiss-bitten lips, over smooth collar bones to perky round tits peaked in lust, down the feminine curve of her waist to those sexy black lace panties...

His heated gaze snapped back up to meet her own wandering one, catching her shamelessly ogling the bulge in his tented boxers. He smirked.

"Enjoying the view, baby?"

"Mmhmm..." Yuqi purred, shifting closer until her lips just barely grazed the shell of his ear.

"Though I think you're still a bit overdressed down there..."

Not needing any further encouragement, she wrapped one delicate hand around his considerable length through the thin fabric - hard as steel and already leaking in anticipation. Groaning, his head dropped back against the sheets at that first tantalising contact.

"Fuck, I missed you," he grit out. Surging up to capture her grinning lips again, he kissed her deeply, tongues sliding. His hands slid down to grip her lace-covered ass, hauling her tighter against him until she could feel every hard ridge of cock.

Breaking their heated lip-lock with a gasp as one thick finger slipped unexpectedly under those panties to drag through her slick folds, Yuqi's eyes fluttered closed.

"Oh yes, just like that..."

Easily sliding first one, then a second digit into her welcoming heat, he watched in a haze as she began to slowly fuck herself on his hand. Shoving those same fingers upwards, he simultaneously rubbed her swollen clit, smirking when her inner walls instantly clenched tighter at the dual sensations.

"Fuck baby you're dripping...Can't wait to feel this tight little pussy squeezing my cock again." The gravelly words against her ear made a more slick gush, drenching his pumping fingers.

"Mmm what's...ah!...stopping you?" She managed to gasp out between moans. The delicious tension coiled tighter and tighter in her core, right on the brink...

And then suddenly, maddeningly he withdrew his fingers. Snapping her eyes open, she whined in frustrated protest - but then caught the positively horny glint in his hooded gaze. Maintaining eye contact, he slowly, deliberately brought those slick fingers to his mouth. A deep groan rumbled in his broad chest as he licked them clean of her juices.

"Mm delicious as always, baby. But it would be a damn shame if this ended too quickly..."

With unfair ease he flipped them so she was on her back, caged between strong arms. Reflexively Yuqi spread her legs in blatant invitation, aching and empty. But instead of lining himself up, he shifted downwards. Large hands pushed her thighs further apart, baring her glistening pussy.

"I think you deserve a reward first for that killer show tonight..."

Yuqi barely processed his husky promise before she felt the soft heat of his tongue drag firmly from her leaking entrance up to circle her aching clit.

"Oh fuck!" Her fingers instantly tangled almost painfully in his hair, hips bucking. Humming approvingly at her reaction, he gripped her waist with steely strength to hold her still.

"Been way too fucking long since I got to properly taste this pretty pussy..."

Then he dove back in with shameless enthusiasm, alternating broad licks with tight circles concentrated right around her swollen clit. Yuqi saw literal stars behind her clenched eyelids. When he sealed his lips around that straining bundle of nerves to suck firmly, she nearly convulsed right off the bed.

"Yes yes yes just like that oppa!" she heard herself babbling mindlessly. The filthy endearment she knew drove him wild always slipped out unfiltered in moments like this. As expected, his answering groan reverberated straight to her clenching core. So close...

But once again, just before she toppled over the cliff's edge into oblivion, he stopped. Sitting back on his heels with a smug grin that she wanted to slap off his handsome face.

"Fucking TEASE!" she accused in a breathless whine, chest heaving as she kicked his chest gently. His chuckle came out strained, cock visibly throbbing almost angrily behind those damned boxers.

"Now now, watch that naughty mouth babygirl..." He mock scolded. When she just scowled, he arched an eyebrow.

"What do good girls say?"

Huffing at the game but deciding to play along, Yuqi relaxed back against the sheets, letting her thighs fall open in unmistakable invitation. Biting her lower lip coyly, she met his darkening gaze through her lashes.

"Please make me cum with your cock oppa..." she whispered.

His lips crashed back to hers roughly. "That's my good girl," he rasped when they finally broke for air. Gripping her hips hard enough to leave fingertip bruises, he guided his painfully swollen length through her slick folds before sinking into her sloppy heat. Their twin groans echoed loudly in the room.

"Fuckkk you feel even better than I remember baby," he praised through gritted teeth, buried to the hilt inside her silken pussy. Restraint evident in every quivering muscle, he gave her a moment to adjust while she revelled at having this part of him back where he belonged.

Propping himself up on forearms braced on either side of her head, he began a slow retreat. Their heated gazes locked, both holding breath...Only to gasp it back out sharply as he snapped his hips forward, filling her completely again. Yuqi saw literal stars at the perfect angle dragging along her g-spot.

"Oh yes, just like that oppa!"

Needing no further encouragement he quickly built an aggressive rhythm - almost brutal snap of his hips punctuated by the lewd sound of skin slapping on skin. Interspersed with their mingling moans and curses were wet noises from her sopping pussy greedily swallowing every vein-lined inch again and again.

Fingers tangling almost too-tightly in her fanned black hair, he claimed her bitten lips in a messy clash of tongues and teeth. Breaking away with a gravelly groan, his head dropped to mouth wetly at the slender column of her arched throat.

"Fuck you take me so well Yuyu... Gonna make you cum so hard on my cock."

She could only mewl affirmatively, nails raking red trails down his flexing back at each punishing plunge. Tilting her hips up sharply, she eagerly met his every thrust, inner tension coiling impossibly tight. So fucking close...

Sensing her impending release, he shifted angles - somehow hitting even deeper. One large hand left her hair to slip between their sweat-slick bodies, fingers instantly finding her neglected clit to rub hard, fast circles in time with his pounding hips.

"Be a good girl and cum for oppa..." he commanded, pinching the swollen nub ruthlessly. That bit of pain/pleasure pushed her shrieking over the edge - cunt spasming violently around his relentless cock still hammering into her throughout the endless pulses of ecstasy.

Vision whiting out, Yuqi was only vaguely aware of his gravelly praises murmured against her temple as she slowly floated back down.

"So fucking gorgeous when you cum baby..."

She mewled when he carefully withdrew his still rock-hard length, her sensitive walls fluttering around sudden emptiness. But he kept her thighs cradled open, massaging the trembling muscles soothingly.

"Think you can give me another sweet girl?" His cock prodded just barely back inside her sopping entrance, teasing them both. Still breathing hard, Yuqi managed to nod eagerly.

"Want you...to cum inside me next," she affirmed huskily. That lusty glint returning tenfold, he surged back into her welcoming heat with a loud groan.

"Fuck yes... Take this cock just like that."

Her arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, nails biting in with each pleasurable drag along her sensitised walls. When he made to pull out again, she locked her ankles behind his thrusting ass - keeping him buried balls deep.

Breaking their messy kiss with an approving chuckle, he carefully flipped them without severing their intimate connection. Now straddling his hips, Yuqi braced both hands on his chiselled chest as she began working her still-trembling thighs to ride him. Slowly at first, loving the delicious stretch of her stuffed pussy around his girth.

But soon she built up eager speed, tits jiggling wildly with each rise and fall. His large hands anchored bruisingly on her waist, guiding each slick slide along his entire length. The lewd sound of their coupling filled the room.

"Fuck yes, just like that Yu. Ride my cock..." One hand left her hip to roughly palm a bouncing tit, pinching her tightened peak. Whimpering as sparks shot straight down, she ground her hips tighter. So deep... Chasing that peak again she slipped one hand between them, finding her swollen clit and rubbing urgent circles around the sensitive nub.

Imminent orgasm rolled hot at her core for the second time. Leaning down without losing rhythm, her lips found his ear.

"M'close again oppa," she panted, clenching teasingly along his thickness. "I want you to fill me up with your cum..."

His answering groan sounded pained, cock jerking inside her. His bruising grip yanked her down hard once, twice more before she felt the hot pulses of his release coat her fluttering inner walls. That sensation tipped her over too - cunt spasming erratically around him, drawing out every drop as she moaned her climax.

Chests heaving, Yuqi collapsed against him, their mixed juices already seeping onto his thighs. His softening cock slipped free and she hummed at the loss. Propping up slightly to meet his dazed eyes, she deliberately dragged two fingers through the slippery combination of their orgasms before bringing them to her puffy lips. Maintaining eye contact, she licked them clean with a tiny moan.

"Mmm delicious oppa." Ignoring his halfhearted swat for her teasing, she giggled against his neck placatingly.

After a few moments catching their breath, he gently manoeuvred her Jello-like limbs off him towards the bathroom. Under the warm spray he carefully cleaned every inch of her thoroughly used body himself. The loving tenderness made Yuqi's chest squeeze almost painfully. She wished they could stay in this little bubble together indefinitely, ignoring the outside world...

But eventually prune-like fingers made them move from the cooling water. Towelling off, Yuqi noticed the mess of clothes still thrown haphazardly from front door to bed. Slipping into his discarded tshirt like a micro dress, she padded towards the kitchen to whip up some food.

They cooked a simple pasta dish together, conversation flowing easily about everything and nothing. His arms wrapped around her from behind while tomatoes simmered or noodles boiled, chin hooking casually over her shoulder. Unable to resist, Yuqi tilted her head giving him access to nip and suck marks along the curve of her neck. Things nearly got derailed onto the kitchen floor at one point.

Later stuffed full of oily pasta, they collapsed sideways on her couch not even bothering to get dressed yet. Half paying attention to some drama rerun, Yuqi drew nonsensical patterns across his bare chest with a fingernail. The occasional rumble of his laughter vibrated against her cheek where it lay tucked under his arm. Everything just felt so right.

As the moonlight fading towards early sunrise outside though, reality began creeping back in. Stomach sinking, Yuqi realised she had no idea how long they actually had left together before...

"When does your flight leave?" She tried to keep her tone light despite the sudden ache blooming behind her ribs. His sigh ruffled her hair.

"9am." Glancing at her phone screen, she calculated barely 5 hours now remained in their little haven. Sensing her mood shift, he hugged her tighter against his side.

"It's not goodbye forever though, okay Yuyu? I'll visit again as soon as I can get more time off work, I promise. We'll figure this out."

Still she had to bite her lip hard to keep sudden tears at bay. Sucking in a deep breath, she sat up abruptly before the dark thoughts could take hold. Grabbing his hand off her waist, she fixed a cheeky grin on her face.

"Well no point moping about it now huh? We've still got a few hours left to enjoy!" Not giving him a chance to react, she dragged him stumbling back towards the rumpled bed, already shrugging his oversized tee off one shoulder...

Over the next hours they proceeded to make more thorough use of every surface of her apartment, switching positions and places continuously. By silent mutual agreement, they didn't speak about his leave again, choosing to stay locked in each other's eyes or connected by roaming mouths and hands instead. Committing every muffled moan and pleasured gasp to memory for the next lonely stretch that loomed ahead.

All too soon however, the dreaded alarm on her phone shrilly announced it was time. A heavy silence surrounded the bedroom where they lay tangled up, hearts still racing from their last frantic fuckery not even 10 minutes prior.

As if putting it off could somehow stop the inevitable, they lingered longer under the sheets sharing soft, slow kisses. But his return flight wouldn't wait, responsibilities in another country calling insistently. So finally with a deep sigh he untangled their limbs and rose to gather scattered clothes. Yuqi couldn't bring herself to move yet, just watching silently with the sheet held over her bare boobs.

Once dressed, her Y/N, sat back on the edge of the mattress, fingers combing gently through her tangled hair.

"Come on baby, don't look at me like that," he cajoled softly. "This isn't forever, just a few more months."

Yuqi bit her lip, trying and failing to force a smile. His warm palm cupped her cheek, thumb swiping away a stray tear before it could fall.

"Promise you'll video chat me the minute you land?" she asked in a small voice. He smiled gently.

"Of course. And I'll be back to visit again before you know it." Ducking his head, he kissed her tenderly. "Wild horses couldn't keep me away for too long."

A moment passes as they stare at each others eyes, lost, "I love you, you know..." The whispered words blurt out before she could second guess them. It was the first time either had actually voiced the emotion out loud. His answering smile practically lit up the room.

"I love you too," he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing. Happiness bubbled up Yuqi's chest and she dragged him down into a slick kiss.

Too soon though, her phone alarm blared again, signalling it was time to depart for the airport. With a reluctant sigh he gently extracted her clinging limbs from around his shoulders.

"C'mon baby, don't make this harder," he chided without any real heat. Shouldering his backpack, he kept an arm wrapped securely around her waist as they made their way out to the idling taxi. The ride passed in near silence, her hand clinging almost desperately to his larger one the whole way.

At the busy terminal, he checked his bag through to the gate before turning to properly say goodbye. Yuqi fiddled anxiously with the hem of his shirt hanging around her thighs - the nearest thing to a security blanket for when he was gone. Sensing her distress, he tucked a knuckle under her chin, tipping her face up.

"Hey, no more tears okay? This is just see you later." lowering his head he kissed her sweetly. When they separated, Yuqi took a deep breath and fixed a teasing pout on her face.

"Fine. But you better keep your promise to video chat me the minute you land, mister." She accentuated the warning with a playful poke to his chest. He barked out a laugh.

"Yes ma'am. Though with the time difference it might be pretty late."

"Don't care," Yuqi insisted stubbornly. "I'll keep my phone volume all the way up. I expect your handsome face on my screen bright and early."

Overhead the boarding call for his flight crackled through the intercom. Glancing regretfully towards his gate, her boyfriend swept her into one last rib-creaking hug.

"Last chance to cram me into your suitcase," Yuqi mumbled into his shoulder lamely. His body shook against hers with another sad chuckle.

"Tempting. But I'd have a hell of a time explaining that to airport security not to mention your members and company." Pulling back, he kissed her forehead lingeringly. "Get home safe baby. I'll call you as soon as I land, I promise."

Nodding, not trusting her voice anymore, Yuqi stepped back out of his embrace. Their joined hands clung together a heartbeat longer before finally slipping free. With one last devastating smile over his shoulder, her boyfriend handed the gate attendant his ticket and disappeared down the boarding tunnel.

Shoulders slumping, Yuqi slowly meandered her way back out of the airport in a daze, thankfully no one recognized her this early in the morning. She kept glancing instinctively for his tall figure every few yards before the painful reality sank in all over again that he was really gone. The taxi ride back home felt endless, bottom lip raw and bitten between her teeth against the threat of more tears escaping.

By the time she let herself back into her empty, too-quiet apartment, eyes burning with exhaustion, the glowing screen of her phone read nearly 1 pm stilll no message yet, but she hadn't really expected one. With the lengthy flight plus time difference, it would probably be hours still until he landed and made it through customs.

Curling up in the centre of her big, cold bed, Yuqi clutched one of his leftover shirts that still smelled faintly of his cologne. She forced her eyes closed, willing sleep to come and temporarily dull the hollow ache in her chest.

Sometime later she gradually registered the buzz of vibration and a familiar ringtone. Bolting upright, heart suddenly racing, she fumbled to accept the call - not even bothering to check the time. His gorgeous, rumpled face filled the video screen, baseball cap pulled low and flashing that killer sleepy smile.

"Hey you," he greeted warmly. "Told you I'd call."

"I didn't actually think you'd manage it tonight, isn't it like 3am there or something?" Yuqi asked, unable to keep from mirroring his smile. He shrugged, stifling a yawn.

"Yeah about that. But I missed you already so I didn't wanna wait 'til morning."

Her heart swelled two sizes, previous gloom vanishing. They stayed on video chat for nearly an hour just catching each other up and chatting aimlessly. More than once she caught him yawning widely or eyes drifting closed before snapping back alert.

"Okay babe I better let you get some sleep," Yuqi finally relented, taking pity on his obvious jet lag. He started to protest but she cut him off. "We can talk more later after you get a nap. I'm not going anywhere."

Nodding reluctantly he blew her a silly kiss through the screen. "Sweet dreams beautiful. Talk to you in a few hours."

Ending the call, Yuqi fell back against her pillows feeling lighter than she had any right to. Nothing had really changed - they were still continents apart just like before. But hearing his voice again and seeing him settle safely back into his own bed made the looming separation more bearable somehow. Snuggling back under the sheet that still smelled faintly of his cologne, she drifted easily off to sleep herself.

Over the next weeks they fell into a familiar routine - daily phone calls or video chats when their schedules aligned, occasional cute selfies or candid snaps throughout work days. The time difference made things tricky but they made it work.

During one such call about a month later, Yuqi was in the middle of recounting some silly prank Minnie had pulled on Soojin when she noticed him start to shift restlessly.

"Babe are you even still listening?" she accused, one eyebrow raised.

"Hmm? Oh yeah, sorry you just...distracted me for a sec," he mumbled, cheeks faintly flushed.

"Oh really? What could possibly be more interesting than my story?" Yuqi challenged.

Clearing his throat, he gave her an uncharacteristically shy smile. "That shirt you're wearing is just really familiar…”

Glancing down, she realised with a start she had subconsciously thrown on his oversized tee that she'd stolen, the hem hitting mid-thigh as she sat cross-legged on the bed. Suddenly she matched his blush.

"Oh! I guess I just grabbed it without thinking when I got dressed earlier..." She trailed off, teeth catching her lower lip. An inviting heat entered her boyfriend's gaze, making her stomach swoop deliciously.

"Mm I like it," he says nodding . "Maybe flip the camera down and give me a little spin? Remind me what I'm missing..." His voice dropped lower and Yuqi suppressed a shiver...

a/n; not really a fan of gidle, also havent seen any content other than their music so this might be a little... off, sorry about that lol, tho hope u enjoy

#idle smut #yuqi smut #kpop smut #smut fanfic #fafic smut #kpop fanfic #male reader smut #gidle yuqi #song yuqi #yuqi x reader #girl group smut #female idol smut #one shot

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daniswoso · 5 months

Text

Because I love you too much.

Charli Grant x reader.

Warning: idiots in love, angst.

Summary: She loved you too much.

*********

You and Charli had been practically inseparable since youth team. You did everything together, you went to the beach together, you went to restaurants together, you went practically everywhere with eachother.

If you were somewhere you could guarantee Charli wasn't far. It was a comfort, she was a comfort to you.

Then you managed to both get a contract at Adelaide. You felt as if nothing could go wrong, you would play as one when you were on the pitch together, with you both being defenders and being on the same team you were unstoppable. You had been named the 'dream team', 'the ones to watch' and so many other things.

Then she just had to up and leave to Sweden.

To say it broke you would be an understatement, it shattered you. You felt like your world was caving in around you. Like you had been ripped from your home, like the only sense of familiarity you had basically your whole life had been ripped from under you. Leaving you alone. And scared.

But what hurt even more was the way Charli grew more distant. She would keep her distance, barely visited you when she came home to visit her family. Until eventually all contact stopped.

You had decided it was for the better, you changed your number, moved all the way to Arsenal but yet you still couldn't bring yourself to block her number. Just in case, you thought.

There never was a 'case' where you had the pleasure of seeing her name illuminate your phone screen again. Not for a long while.

Finally, you found peace. You had moved on, found new friends and a new sense of comfort in the Arsenal girls. Caitlin specifically taking you under her wing, calling herself your 'aussie mentor'. She made you laugh. It was a nice change of pace to the nights you had spent crying and screaming Charli's name in anger.

Then the world cup came around. You were desperately hoping for a call-up. So much so you hadn't slept the day before you were supposed to get the news. And when your phone finally rang, cutting through the deafening silence that invaded your flat as you stared at your phone, picking your nails and biting your lip; you practically jumped onto the coffee table you had your phone perched on.

"Hello?" The caller said. Holy shit, you thought, I'm speaking with the coach of the fucking matildas.

"Hello, Ms Y/L/N?" Then you remembered you actually had to speak, so you cleared your throat.

"Uh, yes. Hello, this is me." You cringed at the way you nervously stumbled through your sentence.

"I'm calling to tell you you've received a call up. Welcome to the Matildas, Y/L/N. See you soon." They hung up. You shook with excitement. You cried with excitement. And you screamed so loudly you're surprised you didn't get a noise complaint the following day.

Sending a text to Caitlin, you grinned from ear to ear the rest of the week.

That is until you got to Australia and realised Charli was there, too. That was a very rude awakening.

During the first training session you of course were paired with Charli. You cursed under your breath as you begin doing keepy-ups with her back and forth.

"Grant," You said, your voice blunt, you were in no mood for her bullshit at the moment. You were here to win a world cup.

"Y/L/N," She said back, her voice quieter than yours and her usually vibrant eyes seemingly dimmed slightly at your tone. The ghost of a smirk that crossed her face when she saw you dying.

It was almost enough for you to want to hug her so tightly she couldn't breathe. God you had missed her.

At the end of the training session, for which you were paired with Charli the whole time, you had enough. You needed to speak to her, you needed closure. You needed her. You needed your best friend back.

You hung back in the locker rooms, waiting till everyone had left and as per usual Charli was the only still left over, she saw you and awkwardly gave you a tight lipped smile.

"Hey," You began.

"Hi," She said back. You felt your heart twist.

"I want to speak with you," You murmured.

"About what?" She questioned. You groaned out loud at her oblivious nature.

"Us, Char.." You said, slowly sitting down on the bench across from her.

"What about us?" She said again, clearly having caught on to what you meant, then again maybe she knew what you meant all along and was just trying to get off easy.

"Why did we drift apart, Charli?" You asked, your voice breaking slightly as tears welled in your eyes.

She sighed and wiped her eye with the back of her hand, her lip trembling when she met your eyes, it was enough to make you need to bite down a sob.

"Because I loved you too much, Y/N." Your eyes widened. She loved you? She loved you?

"What?" You said, standing slightly as you tried to get a handle on what she just said, "You- You love me?" You stumbled over your words.

"I get it, if the feelings aren't mutual. It's why I left for Sweden. I thought you were straight. And I didn't want to make things weird-" You cut her off by bringing her into a searing kiss.

When you finally broke apart, you rested your forehead against hers, your hands clutching either side of her face as if she would walk away from you again, as if this wall just a figment of your imagination, or even a dream. But if it was, you never wanted it to end.

"I am so madly in love with you, you massive idiot."

She chuckled, bringing you into another soft kiss.

At least you had your girl back. And even if it went way differently than you imagined, it still went so incredibly well.

**********

A/N: Treating you w the fics today eh? what’d you guys think?

#woso #football #woso imagine #woso x reader #futbol #woso fanfics #writer is not english #angst #footy #futból #comfort #charli grant #charli grant x reader #charli grant x y/n

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bumblesimagines · 22 days

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i didn't know who else to call. you're all i've got right now.

i can't keep doing this.

Cassie Howard

i didn't know who else to call. you're all i've got right now.

i can't keep doing this.

Pronouns: They/Them/Theirs, GN!Reader

A shout of victory left you and you pumped your fist up into the air, a string of giggles following when you heard Ethan groan loudly as Link came in 5th place. He sighed heavily and rolled his eyes as you bumped his shoulder with a smug smirk, the scoreboard placing you and Rosalina in 1st place. "Go ahead and place the order, Daley. Remember-"

"Pepproni and bacon, yeah, I know." Ethan set his controller aside and used the couch behind him to stand up, reaching down to pick up his Dorito bag from the floor before approaching the end table by the couch where the phones were charging. "Oh, hey, you've got like... two missed calls."

"Shit, is it my mom?" You perked up immediately, tossing the controller onto the couch and stumbling up onto your feet. Ethan shook his head and scooped your phone into his hand, raising it close to his face before the color on the screen changed and it vibrated.

"Uh, 'C.H.'? Who's that?" Ethan raised his head to look at you, brows knitted together and his hand stretched toward you to offer the phone. "Why don't you just put their name and picture instead of some initials?"

"It's, uhm, the new guy at work." What the fuck did Cassie Howard want? You clutched the phone tightly in your hand, maneuvering around the pillows scattered on the ground.

"Why's he calling you at-" Ethan turned his phone on. "-almost eleven pm?"

"I don't know, dude. Maybe he got the night shift or something. I'm- I'm just gonna check, alright? You go through with our deal while I'll take this." You told him, slipping down the hall and into the nearest bathroom before fumbling for the light switch as you finally answered and held the phone up to your ear. The light flickered on and you nudged the door shut with your phone, your ear picking up the sniffling on the other end. Jesus.

"(Y/N)? Oh, my god, finally. I sent like twenty texts and- and I..." Cassie sniffled again, her voice sounding hoarse. You rubbed the bridge of your nose and inhaled deeply because who else would interrupt your night if not Cassie and her drama?

"What is it, Cass? I'm a little busy right now."

"I-I need you to pick me up. Rue came by like, I don't know, two days ago and she told Maddy about me and Nate and- and now Lexi and Mom barely speak to me and nobody answers my calls. Everyone's ignoring me and they're acting like I'm a bad person. I can't be here right now. I didn't know who else to call. You're all I've got right now. I need you, please."

"That's hella depressing, Cass. You need more friends." You sighed. "And Nate? Why can't he pick you up?"

"He's ignoring me!" Cassie almost wailed, her sniffling mixing with hiccups and sobs. The soft rustling on the other end told you she'd likely taken to hiding under the covers to cry all day and it almost made you feel pity for her. If only she hadn't gotten herself into the mess by messing around with her best friend's ex-boyfriend, then maybe you'd actually feel bad. "Please, please, (Y/N). I'm- I'm home right now. I can pack a bag and- and I can- I can wait for you. I just... I need someone right now."

"Christ, fine, fine. I... I'll pick you up but you can't stay at my place for over two days, Cass. My parents will start asking questions and if people find out you're staying with me it'll cause problems. I'll talk to Nate, alright? If not him, I'll see if Aunt Marsha talks some sense into him. But... Cass, I can't keep doing this. I can't keep picking up after you and solving shit for you, alright? It's fun messing around but... I'm tired. After this, you and I are just friends, okay? I'll be there soon."

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makeyoumine69 · 1 year

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Hey sweetheart I hope you're getting there! I just wanna say that you're appreciated and loved❤️Patrick is just..🥵Could I possibly have a fanfic of Patrick Bateman x fem reader who has the most disgusting thoughts about him with a hint of voice kink please? Much love princess 🥰❤️

My dear, thank you so much for your amazing support and your request! I hope you like it! 😘😍✌

— [MASTERLIST]; [My imagines and short requests]

Patrick was away on a business trip, so you were left alone in his fancy apartment in New York. Almost every day he called you and you had little cute conversations, where he mostly complained about his stupid co-workers and how much he missed you. But one day, your conversation turned into something really spicy.

"What did you just say, honey?" Bateman chuckled in amusement and brought the phone closer.

"Nothing," shit, did you actually say your dirty fantasies about him out loud? "Never mind Patrick, it was just…"

"What are you wearing?"

Fuck, his low, seductive voice sent shivers down your spine, it forced your toes to curl uncontrollably, because you wanted him to be here now more than anything else in this world.

"Uh, um…well, I'm wearing a short casual dress," you replied as your finger nervously twirled a lock of your hair. "With no bra underneath."

"Oh?" you heard his slight surprise, and it brought a bright smile to your face. "If so, how about you get under the dress and play with your nipples for me?"

A muffled gasp of excitement escaped your suddenly dry lips: "Patrick, stop teasing me… you know how much I miss you and…"

"That's the point, sweetheart," Patrick purred into the phone and you noticed the slight sound of his pants unbuckling. "'C'mon, those tits deserve attention and I'm so fuckin' upset I can't touch them right now."

"And if you were here, what would you do with them?" This question came out faster than you even had time to think.

His low chuckle echoed in your ear as his voice dropped even lower, "I'd suck those delicious little tips until they swell up, honey," he murmured, his hand already wrapped around the base of his fully erected cock. "I'd bite them, arghh… I'd twist and pinch them really nice."

Moaning softly, you found yourself breathing fast and your peaks were so hard from the things Bateman was telling you. You cursed barely audibly and let the straps of your dress fall over your shoulders, exposing your well-formed breasts.

"Patty…" you mewled as you finally tugged on your hard nipple. "God, I miss you so much."

"I know, darling, I know," he mused, slowly stroking his thick dick. "I miss you even more, believe me."

"Patrick, go on…please!"

"Wow, I didn't expect you to be that horny," Patrick chortled, his voice seemed to flow right through your veins, setting your whole body on fire. "I bet you're so soaked right now. Aren't you?"

Fuck, you had to claw at your knee from how aroused you already were. Abashed, you slowly opened your legs and immediately felt the wetness between them.

Damn it!

"I'm so fucking wet, Patty," you closed your eyes and guided your hand to where you needed it most. "Oh God, I wish it was you, touching me right now…"

"Imagine it's me, honey," his guttural groan made you whimper in response, coaxing your fingers to slide over your delicate petals. "Imagine me palming your juicy pussy…mmhm…I wish I could taste it!"

"A-aww! Parick," your shameless wining was like music to his ears. "I want it so bad!"

"Baby," his jerking motions became more intense with each passing moment. "Shit, I'm gonna cum if you keep moaning like that..."

With a sly smile, you threw your head back as you couldn't hold it any longer - you shoved two fingers into your dripping cunt and your mind immediately went into a frenzy, especially when you heard his sexy muffled sighs.

I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #slasher smut #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman headcanon #christian bale smut #christian bale x reader #patrick bateman reader #christian bale #patrick bateman imagines

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sunnynwanda · 6 months

Note

Could you do a story where a guard of a Supermax prison befriends a supervillain, because he treats him like a genuine human being instead of an animal; and later, all the power-dampeners suddenly fail; and all these villains just revolt against the guards; but supervillain makes sure he’s safe since he was always kind to him?

I understand if you don’t wanna write this!! 💜

Soulitary

It was silent. Excruciatingly so. Supervillain could hear his own heartbeat, the rustling of the fabric over his chest that accompanied every exhale, the strained motion of his eye ticking. He could almost feel the darkness surrounding him.

At first, it was painful. Supervillain was so reliant on his powers that getting deprived of them physically hurt him. His limbs were too heavy, his chest too stiff, and his body too weak. He couldn't move for a fortnight and barely ate anything until he had lost enough weight to be able to lift his body off the floor. Movement, as limited as it was in his cage, seemed to keep him sane.

The pain subsided, drifting into the back of his mind over time.

He adapted to the constant darkness of his cell, too. The initial nightmares of horrible creatures lurking in the dark no longer occupied his shattered dreams. There were no monsters with long claws and cold, slimy fingers reaching for his neck, looking to choke the last breath out of him. No, there were no monsters in his cage. The monsters were outside. Patrolling the corridors, mocking the beasts they were ordered to guard, spitting at them and laughing like hyenas, beating up anyone who dared to answer. Supervillain learned to tune out their voices and ignore their sneering remarks.

But human nature is a terrifying thing. Supervillain got used to the weakness weighing him down. It was not as difficult to lift his head or hold a spoon to eat whatever animal food he was getting fed anymore. He came to terms with the absence of sunlight as his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness. He even went so far as to condition himself to tolerate inhumane treatment.

The only thing he could not adjust to was the isolation. Solitary confinement. The actual worst they could have done to Supervillain, who adored the confused commotion of his big family. He thrived in chaotic environments, where people talked over each other, laughed out loud and always had something to add to the conversation.

Conversation. That was what Supervillain was bereaved of. And he felt it - the need, the yearning of human connection. As little as a hello would be enough. Just a word that was truly uttered – not conjured by his frenzied consciousness.

When he first hears the gentle knock on his door, he doesn't believe his ears. The guards never ask for permission, they barge right in, not dignifying the captives with boundaries. Animals deserve no respect. Thus, Supervillain waits, allowing his eyelids to drop again. He doesn't know why he bothers to open them in the first place when it's pitch black around him, regardless.

The knock comes again, this time louder. Then he hears a hushed voice. "I'm coming in."

When no reply follows, the Guard (Supervillain assumes it must be a new one) turns the key, pushing the door halfway open and entering the cell.

"God, why is it so dark? I can't even see where I'm stepping... Ouch!" He springs back upon stepping on Supervillain's foot and crouches down to place the bowl of food on the floor. "I'm so sorry, I couldn't see."

With his hands now free, the Guard reaches for the flashlight on his belt and turns it on. Supervillain has to cover his eyes - he did not remember light hurting this much - squinting despite his hand obstructing it. It takes him a few moments to adjust, then he wipes the tears off and focuses his gaze on the Guard in front of him. Too young for this miserable place, he thinks to himself while his captor studies him. It's only when their eyes lock, that the Guard comes to his senses, apologising profusely.

"I am so sorry! I did not see you there. I mean, it's hard to see anything in such darkness, but still. My bad." Supervillain is too stunned to react for a number of reasons. Since when did the guards apologise? It was part of the job to inflict suffering on their subjects. Did this one not complete the training? Or was this a trap? Was he acting deft to catch Supervillain off-guard and wound him unexpectedly?

The Guard, however, keeps rambling. "I thought you would be asleep when you did not answer. It's not an excuse though. I should have checked. That's part of my job, is it not? Ah, you probably wouldn't know." He runs a hand over his face, clearly distressed. Supervillain is amused and too shocked to react. That's the most talking he has heard in months, and a part of him desperately demands to answer. The Guard rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "Anyways, here's your food. I don't exactly know what that is, but you're so skinny, you should eat it."

Supervillain's mind is screaming at him, begging his mouth to talk, to say something – anything. God, move! Talk, god damn you, a word, any word!

But before he can squeeze out said word, the Guard waves him goodbye and locks the door, leaving him alone.

He never touches the food, too consumed by the incident to think about anything other than the ray of light – literally and figuratively –that walked into the solitude of his cage. He spends the next several hours in feverish dreams bordering reality until the morning arrives, poisoning him with a blood-curdling idea that the Guard was nothing but a figment of his own imagination – a chimaera created by his delusional mind. Yet, despite his best efforts to convince himself it was an illusion, his memory opposes, bringing forth every detail of the interaction – albeit one-sided – that he managed to engrave in his brain.

Supervillain is still deep in deliberation when a knock on the door attracts his attention. He freezes, breath hitching in his throat as he waits with desperation for it to come again. It does not. Instead, the key turns in the lock, and the door screeches open.

"I'm going to turn the light on, if you don't mind," the Guard warns. Supervillain is dumb enough to nod in the dark. "Here we go."

He flicks the switch outside the cell door; the bulbs buzz worriedly, and light floods the ascetic room. Supervillain looks around, seeing his dungeon for the first time. He notices his blanket in the corner and the untouched bowl from yesterday.

"Hey, you didn't eat at all! Is everything alright?" The Guard chimes into his thoughts. His voice is laced with concern that feels foreign in this place. When Supervillain shakes his head, the Guard smiles – the room, somehow, becomes brighter. "It's bad, isn't it?"

Supervillain nods, and the Guard chuckles, placing a new hot bowl in front of him. He looks up in surprise and is met with a shrug. "Figured it might taste better hot."

The expectant gaze of the Guard is the only reason he reaches for the bowl. It's as shitty as before, but it warms his insides. He hums in appreciation, taking another spoonful. The Guard smiles again, now more cheerful. "Should I leave the lights on? Or do you like it dark?"

Supervillain finally finds his voice. "Light. Thank you."

The Guard nods before exiting, and Supervillain curses himself for not saying more. He should have talked, for god's sake. This is the first person to treat him like a human being for the past eight months, and all he could muster were three words.

He feels pathetic. This wasn't him, not really. The true Supervillain was voluble, articulate with his words and emotions and loud. Very, very loud. He loved the attention it earned him, loved being on stage. Performance was part of his persona, his public image of a supervillain. The presentation was what gained him the fame. The same fame that led him here. Alas, he sighs, leaning his back on the wall.

At least he has light now.

***

It's been almost four months since Supervillain's confinement changed - the granted light and occasional conversation made his exile from society feel less strenuous. His Guard would come in once a day, as per the rules. Aside from that, he gained a habit of sitting outside his door after the evening rounds, telling Supervillain about his day or the news. His cheerful voice would catch Supervillain off-guard at first, but he grew accustomed to it, as well as to the daily dose of prison gossip. The people in the city were dejected - mass arrests that were supposed to bring peace to the streets had a reverse effect. Supervillain couldn't help the foul smile this knowledge brought to his face. He did not comment.

After two weeks of talking to the wall, the Guard was ready to give up. He had promised himself he would stop trying after the fourteenth night, which ended up being the night Supervillain replied. It was a short comment on the newly installed power dampeners that were to substitute the old ones. Supervillain pointed out that the old ones were more than efficient, leaving him drained of strength and energy. The Guard then asked if that was the reason he was so skinny, and so the conversation flowed. Supervillain told him about the thorny months of his captivity, how it took him countless days and nights to submit to the unfamiliar weakness.

During one of the many conversations that followed, they talked about his past, the origin of his unnatural power and the reasons for his incarceration. Supervillain never denied being dangerous – he embraced it gladly, though he never used his power against innocent civilians. Sure, he had committed his fair share of crimes, as regarded by the authorities, irrespective of his cause. But there were worse things he could do.

The Guard told him of his past dreams and aspirations, all of which were crushed when he lost his parents and had to step up to provide for his younger siblings. He came from a household where no one got left behind, and Supervillain finally understood where his kindness stemmed from.

One day, when the Guard came from the last round, Supervillain was the first to speak. They sat on the opposite sides of the door, back to back and separated by thick metal, yet connected stronger than before.

"So, will you be leaving soon?" Supervillain fails to mask the melancholy in his voice. So much for being supportive!

The Guard pauses for a long moment before shaking his head no. Supervillain can't see him, but the reply is clear as day. "Your brother's graduating next month, is he not? You can stop working here and search for a new job. More suitable for you."

"I can't," his voice comes softer than a rustle. He presses a clammy hand to his forehead to calm the burn beneath his skin.

"Why?" In all honesty, Supervillain does not want him to answer. He doesn't want him to go either, but keeping him here feels blasphemous. Despite the cell draining his life force and loneliness ravaging what's left, Supervillain would rather be forlorn again than allow his friend to waste his youth here.

"I can't, Supervillain," the Guard repeats, even lower now, not trusting his voice to speak louder.

Supervillain curses under his breath. "Why not?

Do not say what I think you're going to say, they plead. I don't think I have the strength to alienate you or push you away to make you go.

"Because I won't leave you here alone." The Guard gets up, walking away to avoid being lectured on the stupidity of his reason. He lacks the nerve to be any bolder.

He doesn't return until later at night. Supervillain is stiff against the door when he hears approaching footsteps and shuffling. Then comes the soft voice. "I'm sorry."

Supervillain sighs, rubbing his eyebrows to ease the tension. "You did nothing wrong." The claim is met with silence, so he adds. "Apart from getting attached to the wrong person, that is."

The Guard chuckles, shaking his head and bringing his knees to his chest. "Are you the wrong person?"

"I'm a convicted criminal." A fact he had to remind himself daily when he first got here. You are a convicted criminal, and the guards will treat you as such. Except the treatment was far worse than that, until his new friend showed up.

"Doesn't mean you're evil," the Guard chimes into his thoughts, dragging him back to the present.

"You don't know me," he notes, though it's not entirely true.

The Guard smiles, leaning forward and placing his chin on his knees to rest his neck as he mumbles. "I think I know more than anyone else."

***

The wailing of the sirens forces Supervillain awake in the most unsettling way. The alarm lights under the ceiling flicker red, alerting him further. He springs to his feet with a speed he hasn't had in a long time and then stops in his tracks because it strikes him. The overwhelming force that hits him right in the middle of his chest, spreading all over his body, obstructing his lungs with suffocating constrictions, rushing through his veins and reaching the tips of his fingers and toes to erupt in sparkles of sheer unrestrained raging power. It's surreal. All-consuming. Galvanising. He revels in the agitation that washes over him, wave after wave. His senses are overstimulated and raw.

He feels lightheaded as he attempts to focus his eyes on his prickling fingers. It takes him a moment to identify the cacophony of sounds outside.

And then the realisation dawns on him.

The power dampeners are off.

In a prison with the worst criminals of the damn century. He closes his eyes to tune out the noise and think, but his mind is too frantic to concentrate. The moment the inmates realise their powers are back, all hell will break loose. Supervillain knows they will revolt. He would, too – after spending months being treated worse than an animal.

The Guard. The image flashes through his thoughts so fast it almost burns him. With renewed anxiety, he bangs on the door. There's no response, and the ideas running through his head coat his stomach with dread, hot and muggy. He knows it's about to get dirty, and, in all honesty, those guards deserve it. But not his Guard. Not him. Anyone but him.

He presses his palms against the door, channelling all his fears and worries into heating the metal till it melts under his fingers. It drips down to his feet, forming a pool. When the lock is soft enough, he whips the door open, but as he is about to step outside, someone crushes into his chest, pushing him back and shutting the door behind them.

He lets out a sigh of relief as the Guard presses his back to the door, holding it closed.

"That's not going to work."

"Please don't go out there!"

They speak at the same time, and Supervillain can't help the smirk that fights its way to his face. "Scared I'll harm your friends?"

"I'm scared they'll hurt you." His eyes are enormous as he stares up at Supervillain, who looks much healthier now. He looks alive. His skin is no longer grey, his lips and cheeks are coloured in pink hues, and even his eyes sparkle with new vigour. He takes hold of Guard's shoulders, pinning him further against the door to stabilise his shaking form.

"Stay here. Be quiet." The Guard shakes his head no, grasping Supervillain’s arms with an unspoken plea. Supervillain softens. "It's okay. I will keep you safe. I promise."

With that, he moves the Guard to the side and exits the cell, sitting down against the door – roles reversed from hours before. From time to time, the Guard hears people come and run the moment they spot Supervillain's menacing form.

It's only four hours later that the military arrives, clearing the area and arresting the surviving prisoners. As they bring order to the facility, checking floor after floor Supervillain opens the door. He is met by a tear-stained face and hard stare of his Guard. Supervillain huffs out a laugh and draws him into an embrace before pushing him out the door.

"Try not to forget me when you leave," he jokes half-heartedly, but the Guard shakes his head with surprising firmness.

"I will get you out of here no matter what it costs me."

He never steps foot in the prison again but manages to keep his oath three months later. When Supervillain exits the gates with release papers in hand, he does not expect to be met by a mixed bunch of his siblings and strangers who all seem to be acquainted. It's moments later that he notices another familiar face he failed to spot for lack of the usual uniform. He shakes his head with a cheeky smile and rushes towards the kindest people in his life.

Supervillain never has to endure silence or solitude again.

Alright, there's a lot to unpack here :) First of all, thank you for the wonderful request. It turned out longer than expected, as well as took me longer to finish, but then again, the idea deserved to be worked on. I enjoyed crafting this story immensly. So thanks for that as well. I know other writers have been doing the request too but avoided reading their stories to keep mine clear of influences.

I hope you enjoy this despite the delay. Once again, thank you! xo Sunny

Masterlist

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maraudersmyloves · 9 months

Text

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pairing: Bada Lee x Reader

Warnings: my Bad english

Word count: ca. 1k

Disclaimer 1: This is sort of the first part but I'm planning to make the others longer

Disclaimer 2: Everything on this Blog is fiction!!!

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As you walk into the fight zone and take in all the different teams you realize your group is the last. It makes you a bit nervous, you feel your foot slip slightly as a result having Audrey and Ling erupt in laughter and Kirsten trying to keep her smile at bay.

As you calm your nerves and take in the room again you notice the high tension radiating off the dance crews in the room.

Lady Bounce: they’re sitting in relaxed positions but their faces don’t match, they look like they used to be seething and are now deliberating if they should glare or laugh at the others.

Deep N Dap: They seem a bit down and keep glaring at 1 MILLION as if they killed their puppy.

TSUBA KILL: The only Japanese group. Your smile grows a bit, they seem to be the only ones having fun, laughing and smiling amongst each other.

MANNEQUEEN: They look convinced they are going to win. Wrong. Your walk falters a bit at how fancy they look, are you underdressed? You look down at your outfit, wearing a pleated, jean miniskirt, a matching jean top, white high boots, and chunky sunglasses. You look good, maybe you should’ve made yourself look better.

WolfLo: They seem pissed off, the girl with short green hair looks like she wants to kill someone. You guys should stay out of their lane, seeing as they all look rather scary.

1 MILLION: They seem a bit intimidating as the leader keeps glaring at Deep N Dap, but a girl in the back is smiling nicely at you. You smile back and bow a bit. Audrey is giggling next to you.

BEBE: What?? Bebe? Shit. The Bada is literally right next to where your group is supposed to be. You weren’t there when all the members were introduced, due to an emergency, and apparently, your crew members failed to mention that your celebrity crush is going to watch you dance. This is just great.

Audrey walks into you making you realize you stopped walking, as she follows your line of sight she starts laughing a bit too loud, snapping you out of your stare. You yelp causing the other members to laugh even harder as you grumble at them to keep walking.

Mina and some others are calling you and Audrey cute. You don’t mind as long as they don’t underestimate you.

You hear Bada say “Wait, they’re so pretty.” and your face actually heats up. God, you need to get your act together. You know she probably meant the whole group, but you are a part of the group. So… Bada wants to marry you. Obviously.

Audrey pokes your cheek, making you huff and grumble a bit but you're still smiling.

Kirsten leads you guys into the center to wait for your evaluation. When it starts playing you all freak out a little at seeing yourself on the screen. After the group dance, the solos are shown. Yours is just a silly little choreography of OMG by New Jeans. Nothing special, but you’ve always really liked it, having had a lot of fun doing it.

Minah pops up first “In the Royal Family, Kirsten is usually their number two,” your mood immediately sours, but you know Kirsten doesn’t take this kind of thing to heart so you’re going to try not to either.

“Audrey and Y/N, they obviously lack experience. They’re like amateur dancers,” these insults are starting to get to you but you’re trying to keep a straight face. It doesn’t seem to be working very well. The first to notice is Bada. As she was watching you anyway, she immediately noticed the mood change.

“I think little Y/N is starting to get angry.” Lusher turns to look at you and gasps slightly at your barely convincing fake smile. Tatter is seemingly the only one wondering why Bada was looking at the dancer in the first place, as the others giggle at how pouty she looks.

On the screen, they keep calling Audrey untalented and a baby making your blood boil. You take her hand and squeeze it once to pressure her. She squeezes back twice.

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Bada has been fixated on your and Audrey's linked hands. She doesn’t know why exactly, but every time she tries to focus on the screen her eyes creep back. Feeling a sudden need to know if you are still holding hands. You are.

Tatter pokes Bada’s cheek making her snap her eyes up at her, “Hmm?” Tatter has a mischievous smirk on her lips that Bada doesn’t like at all. She wiggles her eyebrows, “you interested in her?”

Is it a bad sign that Bada immediately knew who was being talked about? Maybe. Is she going to deny it? Absolutely. “Who,” she asks letting her eyes skeem over everyone in the room for effect. Tatter just laughs, the others joining in seemingly having heard everything. Lusher and Minah are cooing at their leader, teasing her. Bada acts like she has no idea what they are talking about.

Meanwhile, you’re biting your tongue so hard you’re scared you’ll draw blood, trying not to say anything about the rude comments. When the video ends all the other members laugh it off while you stand still, glaring at the screen and taking deep breaths.

Redy gasps. “Look at Y/N! She seems pissed off,” Lia Kim turns to look and scoffs “All bark no bite.” Redy nods, still a bit unsure.

Audrey notices your sour mood and squeezes your hand making you relax. When you turn to look at her you accidentally meet Bada’s eye. Was she staring? You smile in what's supposed to be polite but looks more like you just won the lottery.

When Bada sees your smile she can’t help the tug at her heart seeing how happy you look because of her. Not Audrey. Her.

No.

She isn’t jealous, this needs to end now. She bites down the smile she didn’t realize was placed brightly on her features and turns away, distracting herself by listening into her crew's conversation about 1 MILLION and DEEP N DAP.

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Tag List: @mightymyo @deadpool15 @britt906 @1luvkarina @zhivaxo @hatdog96 @boohirai @wooyouz @ssivinee @lynbubble @kpopgirl-97 @zerobaseone-zhanghao @linda-botello @angel-hyuckie

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#bada lee #bada lee x reader #fanfic #dancer x reader #bada lee x y/n #swf2 #street woman fighter 2 #texting

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dnd-smash-pass-vs · 6 months

Note

Wait what's the thing about gold elves killing eilistraee followers as big eilistraee simp i never heard of this. What do I have to blame Corellon "Known Bitch" Larenthian with now?

...oh boy. I don't have the most time today, but I can always rattle off elven lore. idk why, I just got obsessed in the rabbit hole for a year for some reason, despite not being my favorite.

Ok, are you familiar with the evermeet debacle? Gold elves decided to make a new elf-only land by ripping out a chunk of heaven itself and throwing into the sea? Dark elves mentioned basic water displacement exists, and how every time gold elves try high magic it goes wrong and even wipes out entire elven species? Got banned for eternity even after being proven right, basically for insinuating that a Gold Elf plan is capable of fault. Well after everyone rebuilt from the widespread slaughter of most life on continents worth of coast, thier arrogance boiled over and the main gold elf nation tried to subjugate all other elves. Starting with the country which was Eilistraee's capital of worship. That was the start of the Dark Elf decent, as the country on the other side of the coast started fighting thier way through every nation between the two, using worse and worse means in a desparate attempt to get to dark/green elf nation they'd subjugated. Starting with fire, eventually leading to demons and undead. but. Um. Gold elves got sick of 3000 years of failed subjugation I guess, because they made a magical eternal nuke that wiped it off the face of the planet. Specifically with high magic, which comes through Corelleon and he has sole control over, able to just turn it off at any time. note that it took drow high mages running in and having to manually turn it off, even if Corellon somehow didn't register it happening he still had to approve for it to keep going endlessly. Remember, this nation that was vaporized was Eilistraee's place. The prime dark elf nation realized this was now a war for survival, went full feral cornered animal, and the other elves turned the dark elves into drow. Corellon even barred them from the afterlife, took away much of thier elven powers and cut them off from his love. like, for all elves and nations, even those in other planes or completely uninvolved. If you wonder why Lolth even has power, it's because when they made thier descent there was just her, a god of hedonism, and the slime god. Eilistraee had lost most of her influence because all her worshippers had been vaporized. The gold elves had destroyed all influences of good, so lolth had free reign. I made an unhinged video on it after like a year of reading up on every elf I could find and trying to boil the script down. not the most proud of it since I was barely conscious by the end of editing so there's weird pauses between some lines, and...holy shit looking back I forgot subtitles. I'll need to add those when I have a moment. but if you're interested in the full story. 13:05 for the war, 14:35 for the dark elf part. Or the whole thing if you want to hear a listing of all elves, as I learn that I'm not actually biased against them like I thought, just specifically against the Gold elves and Shadar-Kai. And the lythari, but I don't actually have anything against them, I just think the insistence that they aren't lycanthropes is a bit dumb.

youtube

#not tournament #answers

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chorizoa · 7 months

Text

Entrail of faith — König x f!reader

part 2!!!!!!!! part 2 part 2 part 2!!!

pt.1 is here

I would like to state that I'm literally just throwing myself into this and letting the thoughts blurb; so if it seems messy, loose, or unorganized its bc I am trying my best :) sorry in advance for anything that may seem plot-holey, geographically incorrect, etc. please feel free to comment on my use of language, setting, wtv— I love feedback and want you guys to enjoy it!!!

this one is also a bit longer tee-hee, and also more revoling around you!

cw: more of konig being a stalker, more talk of kidnap and the like, very brief mention of a daddy kink/use of daddy as a title (its more of a sugar baby kinda way, but hes also just gross), he wants to take full advantage of you, he is very nasty but he loves you so :3

no sex.. yet.

You were a smart girl, but maybe if you were a smarter girl, you wouldn't find yourself staring at an empty message log— thumbs dancing over the screen while you gnaw, and gnaw, and gnaw at that pretty lower lip.

It's insane of you, you think. Giving salt to the interest of a stranger, a man who was clearly dangerous— could so obviously kill you given the chance— one you'd caught glances of during your shifts, always seeming to show up only when you work.. But— Christ.

The years had not been kind, and being a girl settling into her early twenties, a totally foreign land to start a new life in— not a single soul to keep her warm— well, it embeds a certain sense of desperation. Perfect for men like König. Who, of course, could barely handle a woman under any legitimate means.

Inexperience dripped off of you like a waning ooze, glistening with incompetence for what you could be experiencing— a misted perfume that engulfed you, an aura that "spooked" most anyone anywhere near your age. It kept you at lengthy reach from others, and plastic toys had become your only solace in the pariah'ed life you've lived.

Not him, though, it drew him in— and he could taste it on his tongue, swirl it against his gums and swallow like the loveliest shot of Jager. You would be his favorite spirit to indulge in, and all you needed to do was speak.

He already knew your name, of course he did; so when you texted him— confirming that, yes, this was the cute girl from the diner, and frivolously providing your sweet name in your fluster— it didn't surprise him, but it did make him purr with satisfaction. You were so much closer now, so much easier to bend to his will than you could imagine.

Retirement wouldn't be too bad, it seemed.

Perfect, actually, when he really thought about it. Enough savings in the bank to keep him comfortable until he died of old age, or took an unexpected bullet in the neck; and with the added addition of you? Oh, he was going to bask in heaven's light every night. God had sent him his very own angel— maybe he'd pray, just to say thanks.

He wasn't worried about you not liking him— no, not a bit. It wasn't a choice in his mind, either you liked him, or you didn't… and what he had in mind for if you didn't — well.. it was a particularly nasty thing, and he certainly wasn't bringing it up in therapy. Lest he enjoy the comfort of a solitary, padded room with a jacket to match his confinement— maybe even a damp cell, if they felt so generous.

He was going to have you, whether he had to chain you up in his basement, chain you to his bed post, adorn you with a proximity collar— it didn't. matter.

He was going to have you, and you would have him— a smart girl like you would understand, right? He only wants what's best for you.

That's why he followed you home tonight. Silly girl, don't you know you should take the trolley? There's so many bad, scary men out here— you're lucky he watches your every step, and memorizes the direct path to your home from the shadows, someone could hurt you, sweet girl— and he'd have to make a mess, just for you.

He even watched as you poised your fingers to text him, that sharp sight was a blessing— and observing you as you gnaw at your bottom lip until it swelled was stored into a deep, dark part of his mind for later. Ever still, he found it so amusing how oblivious you were— you should really scan your surroundings more.

Though, when he made it to your home— he found a deep frown tugging at him. Oh, this simply would not do. This was not the place to be for his princess, his darling girl— no, not at all.

This rundown complex was much too grimy for one as stunning as you, everything paled in comparison to you— of course it did, nothing mattered like you— but this was just.. sad, nobody as lovely as you deserved to be so impoverished. The dappled foundation, the assumed stench of cigarettes that must cling to the walls within— he had to get you out of there, and fast.

He almost considered marching in right then, ripping you from the safety of your supposed "home"— but he knew better of it. You needed to be won delicately, you were so sweet, but wracked with nerves like a stumbling fawn— one wrong move, a step too quick, and you'd bolt— he could smell fear, and you held it like a cross to bear. That didn't keep him from feeling angry, however.

He was going to pray, offer thanks, but not anymore. No gracious lord would allow such divinity to suffer like this— no self-proclaimed "God of Man" would allow their subject to wallow in such filth. His sweet girl, he was going to give you much more— so much more than this. He would do what God had failed to. He would help you to understand the divinity of man— and what he had to offer. Father was roiling in his grave at the sacrilege.

That was a nice piece to chew on as he walked back to his car— of course he parked elsewhere, home was much too far to walk from— stuck in a wish-washy daydream of you worshipping him, kneeled at his feet and devoted just as you should be. He'd make it better, he'd make it all better, you need only give him time.

— What are you doing tomorrow night, maus?

He texts, already churning with ideas. Most of them are to capture you, of course, but we've established this— we can't do this. However, he is on the more mundane side of things, wondering how he can somehow pay your rent for a few months— or atleast until he can coax you out of that fucking hellscape in the worst part of town. Regardless, totally normal, gentleman-like, things.

— I work a shift from 17:30-21:00 tmrw night :( but I'll be free after work!!

You're even cute with the way you text, so fitting of you— it makes him chuckle, especially with how quickly you'd replied. In his mind, you're hovering over the phone, jumping at every notification in hopes of it being him.

— No worries, little one, I'd like for you to get your rest. Maybe I could walk you home tomorrow, get to know each other?

He's as articulate as ever, feeling as if you'd appreciate his use of grammar and pronunciation— he hopes you read books, he'd buy you a million books, make you read to him while he bounced you on his knee— maybe you'd call him daddy, if he spoiled you enough. He had so many plans for you, it almost made his head hurt, though his cock absorbed most of his rushing blood.

— That would be lovely :)

It would be, wouldn't it? He'd already walked you home now, you just hadn't known it (you'd never know,) and he'd be able to spend tomorrow evening staring at you the whole time— hence why he memorized the path, and for.. other reasons; but those weren't currently relevant, now were they?

— Good. See you then, Engel.

He could see you now, punching these little nicknames into a poorly guided translator— the blush smattering across your soft little cheeks, your eyes creasing as you couldn't help that smile— God, even the small things about you made his palms itch. He was so excited to have you, hold you, touch and use you when he got close enough. It wouldn't be long now.

He was always so good at planning things.

The following evening was a rampage. A festival, perhaps, had ripped through the small town— something about music, either way, the streets were eruptive with fervor.

You, just starting out here, are not well accustomed to this area's cultures— and when the café becomes swamped? Well, you're definitely fritzing for some form of substance. Anything to keep a smile on your face while grown adults trash your place of work, and the surrounding area, in a drunken wake. For crying out loud, you barely knew the language here, and people tend to forget any English instruction they've had once a fiery drink hits their system.

Austria. It'd be the death of you.

Forced to close early due to the mess— much to the dismay of drunk, middle-aged men looking for something greasy to fill their maws— the last hour of your day was spent putting a rag to the wall, the floors, the windows; anything your mind could think of, it had to be cleaned. Tired was an understatement, and 'aching' could not be a severe enough adjective for the sensation settling in your joints.

Maybe if you were a more aggressive person, you'd take it out on your manager. Take a bottle of bleach and splash it in his eyes, maybe a bit of strangulation— that was always on the forefront of your concious— and especially now, as he stood outside and lackadaisically sweeped at the "dirty" corner the building sat on. The lazy fuck, can't even make a proper payroll— the bleach sounded a bit more enticing.

You of course shove these thoughts into the supply closet, along with all the other cleaning products that had been collected from their strewn about positions across the diner. It was almost time to go home, maybe ten minutes or so— and you were getting paid for your last hour, come hell or high water. Rent didn't pay itself, and you almost wish you hadn't treated yourself last night to delivery with that tip König slipped to you— could've been handy.

If only you knew how he was itching to have you practically keep his wallet, you'd find out soon anyways.

You stood behind the bar, leaned into it with a placid expression on your face— slumped and tired, and there was no taming your hair. You partially wanted to cancel the little walk you had so eagerly agreed too, but thought better of it— exhaustion ate at you, however, almost in an irritable sense. The urge to cancel just got stronger, and stronger.

Until he was spotted down the street, that almost completely soured your mood— had not the very sight of him set your pulse to palpitate uncomfortably quick. You took a minute to really observe him, at least from a far. He was giant, no doubt about it— regardless of your size or shape, he dwarfed you, and he didn't have to be up close and personal to tell.

His face was mostly obscured, little black mask hanging across his features— this time around though, no sunglasses to hide his eyes— you were fluttering with excitement at the thought of someone's eyes, Jesus, you're kinda weird. Desperate girl, aren't you?

Regardless, he seemed a bit more.. exposing of himself— and, he was here before the agreed time, like an actual fucking man would do.

Huh, maybe the big giant wasn't a bad choice.

Maybe you just didn't know him well enough.

— Schatz! Nice to see you..

He was warm, inviting. If you didn't have sense in your head, you'd climb into his strong-looking arms, beg him to carry you home like a whiny child— of course, you didn't. Only offering him a smile, and taking his arm as he offered it— the sight making your heart stir a little more.

— Nice to see you too, König. I hope it wasn't too much trouble getting here, I know it's a mess out here right now.

You laugh, but you feel almost guilty for making him come all this way. Yes, he offered, yes, he came here anyways— but Innsbruck during a music festival wasn't exactly.. controlled, and he didn't seem to be the type to like crowds. Something you understood, and sensed very quickly.

— Nonsense, even more of a reason for me to accompany you, little one. Keep you safe.

He gives your arm a squeeze with his free hand, it's soft, gentle— so unexpected from hands that looked as if they could rip your throat out. A frisson of heat creeped it's way up your spine. You'd never been the type to depend on someone, or need someone— but hearing him speak that way.. it was definitely flipping some form of switch inside you.

— You're very kind.

You hum in response, taking a step closer to him as you walked— and he kept his eyes on you the whole time, the route burned into his mind. Though, your phrase did not fall on deaf ears— and he had to keep himself from shoving his tongue down your throat right there— you cannot say things like that to him, you are too good and pure.

— To you, at the very least.

— Why's that?

— Why not?

Banter could be good for the soul, and you almost felt desperate when he looked down to you— eyes creasing from what could only be a smirk. You felt flustered under his gaze, small and compact, but.. safe. Watched over, and protected.

Something about his eyes, his demeanor— the way he so graciously walked you along and made sure you didn't step on a single crack or bump in the sidewalk— it tip, tip, tipped you over into a fuzzy headspace you hadn't felt before. Something small, something compact, something malleable.

— Dunno. Men aren't usually kind.

— Boys, then. You are much too beautiful to be handled by a boy.

You cocked a brow at his statement, an amused chuckle leaving your tired lips. He was a strange man, no doubt caring, but even you could tell he harbored things— kept himself from saying and doing things that might be taken incorrectly, or be downright abhorrent. You should be afraid of him, you should run for the hills and scream for help, you should sense the predator who already has his claws dug deep into your skin.

But you don't, and you don't think you ever would.

Call it string theory, call it hope, call it desperation or an offered entrail— but you placed faith in him, praying that he wouldn't make decorations of your guts— because something more spoke to you, something outside of the two of you held you together steadfast. Mother had always told you to heed universal implications.

— Are you from around here, König?

— Nein, places like this..? eh, not my style. The mountains are much quieter, prettier.

Just how far had this guy traveled? Innsbruck had mountains, yeah, but it wasn't the most secluded of places— quiet didnt exist here. You had to gauge that maybe he blew in from Salzburg, it got less noisy and more rocky the further you went along the North chain. Either way, it was clear to you now that he wasn't just strolling about, he definitely had an agenda.

— Mm. Quite right, starting to regret settling down in such a busy area. I've always enjoyed the quiet.

— Agreed.. What brings you to Austria, Maus?

A good question, a fine one. You didn't know, you got a lump sum from a dead relative— and took off running. America never suited you, and the country was falling to ruins; what would you have stayed for?

— Something refreshing.

— ..And that is..?

— Sights, sounds, self-recognition- I'm unsure, but it's better than home.

He seemed to understand that, a knowing hum vibrating through the berth of his chest. He curled your arm closer to his body, your hip brushing against him as he took an even, slow pace— clearly difficult for him, but you could only move so fast.

The closeness felt nice in that moment, like it was unnecessary to share words— just enough had been said. It was a different sensation flowing through you. Yes, to be frank, you'd been lusting over him since he gave you his number— a little attention can go a long way— but it was different. That feeling of safety was blanketed with another— familiarity.

— Any family, libeling?

— Estranged, haven't spoken to them in years.

Another knowing hum, but it was followed by an amused sound— a chuckle. If the melancholy of the fact hadn't been refreshed, the sound would've made you pounce like a starved animal. He was attractive as all hell— and you didn't even need to see his full face.

— What's funny?

You try not to sound offended, you aren't, not really. Though, his amusement is of interest to you.

— Nothing, I assure you. It just seems that you and I are very similar. You are an interesting little thing.

— Ha! I'm as face value as they come, I promise you that.

— Don't be so humble, it's unnecessary for a lovely girl like you. I'll be the judge of that.

It was almost as if he was scolding you, but you brushed it off with an amused huff of air— leaning into his shoulder as he walked you along. You could stop his heart with such a thing, you saw him so much differently than others, didn't you? What a rare girl you were.

He wound an arm over your shoulder, pulling you into him. He was surprised by his own boldness, but the energy you held was so.. comforting, something in his core shook at the sensation— like a blockage finally being relieved. It could only get sweeter when you returned the gentle grasp, slipping an arm over his slender back.

— I.. this made my night better. Thank you.

You blushy little angel, of course, of course, anything for you. Oh, he needed to give you the world. He'd start a war for you— his very own Helen of Troy.

— Of course, sweet girl. Need to make sure you get home safe and happy, ja?

You laugh and squeeze his side, and he's pushing down another round of nasty thoughts like burning tequila. You have him chomping at the bit for every artifice of your affection.

— Such a gentleman..

— As I was raised to be, Schatz.

It burns him when he has to drop you off at that complex.. again. He wants nothing more than to take you home, invite you to a bed much-too-big, suffocate you in thread counts your wallet couldn't fathom— but it was much too soon, and you were much too angelic for him to ever want to spook you.

It burns you in turn, looking up at him with a shy smile. You want to invite him in, have him over for the night— but it seems you both agree on the terms of "much too soon", and you can't help but feel insecure at the.. state.. of your livingspace. It's nothing lavish, and it's moorish— maybe some other time.

— We should do this again.. I enjoyed this.

— I agree, liebling. Let me know when you work next, hm? Or maybe when you're free, I'll come visit you.

He made you feel as blushy as a school-girl, like you were a gift wrapped in fine bows just for him.

— I'll send you my schedule.

— Guten Mädchen.. I'll see you later then.

And, as if the gods had their hands on your shoulders, he leaned in— pulling his mask down just enough to kiss the top of your head before swiftly moving it back into place, and giving your cheek a quick brush with his thumb. Your skin was on fire, that cheek was never getting washed again.

Good fucking God, coming undone at the smallest touch, are we?

— Goodnight-! Get home safe..

He was already halfway down the block, damn, he's fast.

You're already getting obsessed, damn, he's good.

#konig x reader #könig cod #cod mwii #Cod #könig mw2 #könig modern warfare #König my beloved #My nasty man #the only guy ever #chorizoaspeaks #f!reader #reooreewww I want him

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littlemissaddict · 1 year

Text

This had probably been done before and if it has I'm sorry but the idea has been stuck with me for a while but I just can't stop imagine how funny it would be with Rockstar!Eddie's reaction to his wife attempting the tiktok trend where they drop the towel off camera just to see their partners reaction.

As always 18+ please, no actual smut but it is alluded to.

Word Count: 731

It wasn't until after her shower when she was dry and had just shrugged on one of Eddie's t-shirts that she'd stolen beforehand that the idea came to her. A trend she'd come across on tiktok that she knew would make his fans go wild and well, who was she to deny the ones that supported her husband and his band, that meant they could have the life they were living now. It was little tidbits like these that she liked to share because god knows Eddie's dislike for any social media meant they were deprived of Eddie content unlike the rest of the band that had picked it all up rather quickly.

Dropping her towel in the laundry basket on her way out of the bathroom, she made a beeline for the bedroom where she could hear the annoyed groans from Eddie, who she found crouched down in front of his record player that he'd had since the early eighties, who was adamant that he didn't need a new one even in times like these when it was refusing to work. Giggling quietly to herself so that he wouldn't catch what she was up to, she set her phone up on the nightstand so that it had the perfect view of where he was before she pressed the record button.

Smiling into the camera she brought a finger up to her lips as though she was telling them to be quiet, then she followed it with a wink before moving out of view so all that could be seen was Eddie. She settled herself on the bed and began to pull his shirt off so that she was bare and somehow, he still hadn't noticed her presence so she called his name but all she got was a 'yeah sweetheart' in response so she decided to take it a step further by throwing the shirt at him. It landed on his shoulder and he merely picked it up and dropped it on the side next to the record player without a second thought and she figured he must have assumed she was trying to tell him to put it away.

The thought made her laugh because here she was naked on the bed and he wasn't paying her a blind bit of notice when usually he couldn't keep his hands off of her. At the sound of her laughter, he finally turned his head and whatever response was about to fall from his lips died the second he laid his eyes on her as he stared at her slacked jaw and wide eyes as if he hadn't seen her naked before.

"Fuck, baby, what're you trying to do to me" he sighed dramatically before jumping up from the floor and practically diving onto the bed in a rush of wild curls and manic laughter that she couldn't help but join in with. "You're a dream baby" he spoke amid kisses that he was trying to pepper over every available inch of skin, kisses that were like a drug to her, pulling her under the spell of her touch and making her forget that her phone was still recording.

"Eddie, Eddie" she tried to get his attention but he ignored her because even she had to admit they sounded more like noises of pleasure than actually trying to get his attention so she tried again this time pulling his head up so that he could see she was trying to tell him something. "My phone is still, still recording a tiktok" she revealed, enjoying the wide-eyed surprised look that she didn't get from him very often.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me" he groaned, dramatically as always, and rolled of the bed until he was knelt in front of the phone still propped up on the nightstand. "Sorry guys but the next bit is for my eyes only" he smirked, winking mischievously at the camera as she gasped his name in surprise at his words as he hit the stop button, double checking it was really off before it was forgotten again.

"Now where were we" he smiled smugly as he crawled back onto the bed until he was hovering over her, "ah, I know" he spoke before kissing her full on the lips, the video forgotten about for the moment as she let him cloud her mind with pleasure.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #rockstar!eddie munson #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things

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otakween · 4 months

Text

Digimon Tamers: Brave Tamer - Final Thoughts

Phew! If you're wondering why I've been quiet for a bit, it's because this game took me 3 weeks to beat. It was kind of grueling at times. It definitely assumes that you played the previous 3 (or 4 if Anode and Cathode count for 2) games and does NOT baby you at the start. It definitely wasn't my favorite game in the series, but the fact that it did away with the terrible old Jogress system earned it a lot of points in my book. There are still some Wonderswan games to play, but I think that's really it for Ryo games! Thank goodness :)

Notes:

Major downgrade from D1 Tamers visually! D1 was so colorful and exploring the world was actually interesting. Brave Tamer follows the Digimon World 2 strat of making every single dungeon pretty much identical and the hub world is bland as heck as well. You don't even need to travel to get to the dungeons you just walk up to the same hole every time. Lame.

Thank God this game lets digimon level up and evolve normally. It basically follows the Pokemon style of evolution. In previous games there were bullshit level caps unless you jogressed a zillion times. This game still has that dumb mechanic where your digimon devolves into a baby. I get that that happens in the show, but it felt pretty silly in the game. They get back to normal pretty quickly after a few battles.

Digimon recruitment is limited to borrowing digimon from digidestined from the various anime series. What an awkward concept. Ryo comes out of nowhere to save the day and then each partner digimon is like "See ya partner, I'm ditching you for Ryo!" I'm just imagining the characters that are left partner-less facing certain doom after Ryo leaves lol. Maybe it's one of those situations where they're only gone for a few minutes due to dimension hopping.

The card slash system (based on the Tamers universe of course) was interesting, but kind of annoying to figure out. After I got a handful of strong cards I couldn't be arsed to keep trying new jogress combos.

Speaking of taking the lazy route, I didn't use the majority of the digimon I recruited once LOL. It's more efficient to just stick with the same digimon for the whole game unless you want to spend a lot of time grinding, so that's what I did. I ended up with only mega-level digimon at the end which is frustrating because MegaloGrowmon and Taomon were at level 30! (They upgrade to mega at 31).

The bosses were strangely easy in this game (except for one that took me like 5 tries). What made it hard were the frickin' labyrinthine dungeons (the last one is TIMED! Evil). I have a terrible sense of direction IRL and in video games so the dungeons in this game were torture for me. You have to traverse up to 5 floors and sometimes there are so many dead ends and roadblocks that it takes what feels like an eternity. Also, there are random battles every 2 seconds that increase the suffering. In the later game I planned my route ahead of time by figuring out where the boss was on YouTube and mapping backwards from there. Here's a screenshot of me and my map in MS Paint:

(By the way, I always play Wonderswan games in windowed mode or else they look wonky. This time, that really came in handy).

I had to use multiple guides to figure out some of this game because the most popular walkthrough wasn't very good. It barely gives you any instructions on getting through dungeons, which was what I really needed.

Most scandalous part of this game was when Millenniummon called Ryo his lover (koibito)? Whaaaaa...?

I didn't realize that this game is a prequel to Tamers so I kinda did things out of order, whoops! I didn't realize that Cyberdramon was supposed to be the outcome of a Monodramon/Millenniummon jogress. Makes me want to rewatch some bits of the anime...

There was so much dramatic build up for the final battle and then it was so easy? I didn't even need to use the 10 low-level healing items I stocked up on. Oh well, guess I was well prepared.

Of course there's a post-game where you can scan all the digimon you missed, but that just seems silly. They're not partners in this game, they're cards. If I can't a raise a digimon I don't really see the appeal in collecting them all. (I mean I guess I wouldn't see the appeal in raising them all either, but the cards seem like even more of a waste of time).

The Wonderswan games have always been my fave digimon games but this one felt simultaneously half-assed and overly complicated. I'd give it like a 5 or 6 out of 10. Let's call it a 5.5.

#Digimon Tamers: Brave Tamer #wonderswan #oswan #digimon #Ryo Akiyama #Digimon Tamers

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rockitmans · 1 year

Note

In case you're still taking numbers: 23. If this is too late, feel free to ignore!

You're not too late! I'm gonna try and do as many of these as I can

23. in relief

from the kiss list / see the rest

Notes: don't be deceived by how this starts it's actually super fluffy I promise 😅

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

Blaine is running late. Usually this wouldn't bother Kurt. He doesn't make it his business to keep close tabs on his roommate, generally speaking. But it does bother him today because:

a) Blaine Anderson, neurotic sweetheart that he is, is almost never late. He plans routes with the sole goal of shaving off thirty seconds of travel time. He has an actual pocket watch for God's sake. And,

b) Kurt has lived in New York for five years now and he has never experienced snow in the city like this.

It's like a celestial being has dumped icing sugar directly over New York. It went from normal grey and slightly miserable looking to the sparkling white of a particularly fantastical Christmas card so fast, that Kurt feels like it happened between breaths. And, to coin a phrase, it's showing no signs of stopping.

The blizzard, because that's all it can be, is billowing across the city in huge icy gusts. The snow continues to fall. Kurt is sure that it's already up to his knee height just from a cursory glance out the window. And Blaine is out there. In that.

Kurt pulls out his phone and quickly taps out a message.

Kurt: Where are you?

His finger hovers over the send. Maybe he's jumping the gun a little. He's not out here trying to be an alarmist for no reason. He adds a smiley face to make it seem more bright and breezy and sends it off.

He marches agitatedly back to the window seat and peers out again, staring at the snow like he can make it stop through sheer willpower. He wants Blaine to be here. With him. Drinking hot cocoa and curled up next to him, watching old movies. Not fighting a storm, outside and alone.

Kurt's phone buzzes and he snatches it up. But it's not Blaine. It's an emergency alert for weather. No fucking kidding. But, worse than that, it's quickly followed by a news flash telling him the trains are now closed and no longer running.

The spool of worry that was just starting to unravel in Kurt's belly, drops and spills, unfurling uncontrollably until he's almost sick with it. He's aware he's barely given Blaine five minutes to answer the text but he starts a call to him anyway. It goes straight to voicemail. He swallows painfully.

He knows he's jumping straight to panic with no real evidence that anything is wrong. But he's received too many devastating phone calls in the last few years alone, to ever believe that things Like That could never happen to People Like Him. That bad things couldn't happen to the people he loves.

Blaine is more than a roommate. They've been together since the dorms at NYU. He's Kurt's best friend, his study buddy, his partner in crime. Kurt needs to know he's ok.

Kurt's phone buzzes again and he scrambles for it, but this time it's his dad.

Dad: Saw the weather alert kiddo. Hope you and Blaine are safe at home and you're stocked up.

Kurt: I'm home. But Blaine isn't back from work yet.

Kurt: I'm worried about him.

Kurt types out the message with the vain hope of a child whose parent is going to magically fix everything. Even though he's way too old for all that.

Dad: Well he's probably just been delayed by the storm. He'll be back any minute. Let's give him ten before we panic. You can always call him.

Kurt doesn't want to admit he's already called and that he doesn't feel particularly soothed by Burt's practicality. So he just sends back a thumbs up.

He calls Blaine again. It goes straight to voicemail. Kurt takes a steadying breath. He's letting the fear fuel him. Maybe all that's happening is that he keeps calling Blaine at the exact same time Blaine is trying to call him. That roommate psychic link they have that means they know exactly what take out food the other person needs in times of crisis is just in full effect. He resolves to wait for a few minutes to see if Blaine will get through.

It's painful. He takes to pacing, staring at the blank screen of his phone. The screen only reflects back his own pale face, mirroring his own stress. He unlocks it again, feeling squashed by his inability to do anything practical. He goes back to his message to Blaine to check the read receipts. It was never even received.

He moves toward the door and grabs his coat before he even knows what he's doing. Some instinctual part of him was really about to march out into a snow storm to… what? Where would he even begin looking for one tiny human in a city of millions. Blaine's probably not even out there. If he has any sense, he's hunkered down with a friend or colleague that lives nearer to his work.

Sensible thinking doesn't curb the growing terror. Kurt just knows that life without Blaine in it, is not a life that he really wants to contemplate, ever, and that's far too big a thought to try and explore right now. Not with his heart trying to claw its way out of his throat.

He slowly puts his coat back on the hook.

And that's exactly when the door opens and Blaine is walking through it, snow in his hair. "Holy hell, it's freezing out there," he says and he sounds so… normal. Cheerful even.

Kurt has to accept that all things considered Blaine is only twenty five minutes late home at most. But seeing him here so suddenly, whole and smiling, makes embarrassing tears spring to his eyes.

Blaine notices that he's standing right by the door and lifts an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

"Where were you?" Kurt gasps before he can even attempt to act cool.

Blaine looks confused but then he seems to clock Kurt's expression and he softens instantly. "Were you worried? I'm so sorry. They closed the trains so I had to get off at a stop early and walk the rest of the way. Disaster."

"I called you…"

"Ah." Blaine ducks his head and pulls his phone from his pocket. It's spidered with vicious cracks. "Bad day to smash my phone."

Kurt looks from the broken phone to Blaine's face. He's pink from cold and his curls are loose and damp from the melting snow. He's beautiful. He's perfect and alive and he's here and God is he in trouble.

"You idiot," Kurt snaps. "You absolute idiot."

He doesn't even think. Fear and relief mingle into blind action. He grabs these lapels of Blaine's coat and hauls him forward. Straight into a crushing kiss. Blaine drops his phone again.

Kurt feels Blaine's ripple of surprise all the way down his body but then he relaxes and, after a moment, his lips respond under Kurt's. Kurt softens all at once, his mouth gentling and his hands feeling across Blaine's shoulders and back and down his arms, subconsciously checking that he's truly okay.

Blaine moves with him, turning his nose to tuck against Kurt's cheek and it's freezing but Kurt doesn't care. His arms have settled comfortably over Blaine's shoulders and he presses their chests flush, greedy to feel Blaine's responding heartbeat thumping against his.

He kisses Blaine until Blaine's mouth and cheeks are warm again. He kisses Blaine until Blaine's hands have moved to cup Kurt's jaw and neck and the small noise he makes shows it's obvious that he's not just being kind, and humouring Kurt's moment of madness, he's as lost in it as Kurt is. He kisses Blaine because he can't ever imagine stopping. And Kurt thinks oh.

It's Blaine that eventually breaks it, moving back only enough to rest their foreheads together. "Please tell me that wasn't just a 'thank God you're not dead' kiss," he breathes into the space between them. He sounds like he's trying to make a joke but the vulnerability and hopefulness are tangible.

"Not just that," Kurt assures. He feels dizzy and warm. And some things are starting to make a lot of sense. "I um… might be having an epiphany."

Blaine huffs a small laugh, intimate in its closeness. "Took you long enough."

Kurt wants to ask about that but there's too many thoughts crowding for space. "Let me make you a hot drink," Kurt says instead, pressing another soft kiss to Blaine's mouth to show it's not a rejection. Blaine needs to warm up and Kurt needs to de-stress and now is not the moment for life changing conversations. There will be time for all that.

~~~

Later, once Blaine is showered and dressed in dry clothes and Kurt has coaxed him into drinking two cocoas and they're wrapped around each other while they watch Wizard of Oz, Burt texts again.

Dad: I didn't hear anything else so assumed Blaine was safe. But just wanted to double make sure my third son was home.

Kurt smiles. Burt has always adored Blaine since the moment they became roommates in the dorms. Kurt's eyes slide to Blaine. He's resting in the vee of Kurt's spread legs, his back to Kurt's chest, his loose curls tickling Kurt's chin.

Kurt ducks down slightly to press a kiss to Blaine's clothed shoulder and Blaine turns into him, brushing his nose against Kurt's cheek. It feels so natural, being with Blaine like this. Kurt doesn't one hundred percent know what this means for them yet but he does know one thing. He opens the text from his dad back up.

Kurt: Yes. Blaine is home.

#klaine #klaine fic #klaine fanfiction #glee #my fic #the kiss fics #asks #little-escapist

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sapphire-weapon · 1 year

Note

Not to rattle the cages, but for all of their so called, "sexual tension", Leon and Ada have a startling lack of intimacy. Everything they find out about each other most likely is learned from reading sterile, impersonal dossiers and not from any meaningful conversation.

And the only quality time they did have with each other took place completely off-screen and it's not even entirely clear what happened because it was only referenced in a single blink-and-you'll-miss-it throwaway line of dialogue in Damnation. (I'm willing to concede that it's likely they banged, but it's also just as likely that Ada blueballed him and ran off, because her follow-up question of "You're angry with me, aren't you?" doesn't make sense if he actually came LMAO But that's beside the point.)

But... at the same time... I don't think it's that simple. There's more to it than that.

God, I'm really about to make a case for Aeon, aren't I? Damn my dedication to this series's canon. Let's think of this post as the Aeon haters' guide to understanding Aeon, because it's fucking canon whether we like it or not. Goddamn it.

To start off, there's a difference between knowing someone well and being intimate with them. I've talked in the past about how intimate Luis's death scene was in RE4make, and Leon and Luis knew barely anything about each other at the time of his death. But that doesn't take away from the intimacy of the scene.

I feel like a similar principle applies to Leon and Ada.

Ada was with Leon throughout the majority of what was objectively the worst night of his life. Nothing else comes close to Raccoon City in terms of what it did to Leon -- no matter how much greater of a threat he faces logistically, it's still not as bad as what happened to him in Raccoon City. So, Ada knows Leon in ways that no one else in the series does.

Claire got a glimpse of the old Leon -- arguably, the "real" Leon -- but that's all it was. A glimpse. They weren't together long enough for her to really get to see what made him tick or to understand the perspective he was bringing into the city with him -- but Ada got to see all of that. And there's an intimacy to that all on its own -- especially when you consider that, after RE2, Leon starts building walls around himself made of machismo and bad one-liners that eventually wash away beneath a sea of liquor, which then dampens and darkens everything around it.

But no matter how fast he tries to run from himself, or how many walls he tries to put up, or how hard he tries to become someone else, there's still one person in his life who has seen and remembers who Leon S. Kennedy really is, and her name is Ada Wong.

He's allowed himself to be weak in front of her, to fail in front of her, to get frustrated and angry and overwhelmed around her -- and there is a real intimacy in that kind of vulnerability. And not once has she ever judged him for it or held it over his head or tried to harp on him about how he's changed -- because, to her, he hasn't changed. She can see through all of those new defense mechanisms he's put in place and knows that the core of who he still is is still intact. So, she silently allows him to work through whatever it is that he needs to work through while still trusting that he'll always be who he's always been -- and that's pretty fucking powerful, honestly.

And that's why he feels like he can't let her go -- because he's afraid that, if he does, he'll be letting go of the very last piece of himself that's still alive and holding on from before all the trauma set in.

The sad reality of the ship, though, is that that's not true. If Leon were to let Ada go, he wouldn't be letting go of his old self. Because, while Ada has seen the old Leon -- has met and known and spoken with him -- she is not what's keeping the memory of the old Leon alive; she is not the actual bearer of his legacy. Sherry is.

Even though Sherry wasn't around Leon nearly as much as Ada was and didn't get to know him the same way, that doesn't matter. What Leon doesn't see is that he didn't give up who he was because of Ada. He gave up who he was because of Sherry. He did it for her sake -- to save and protect and take care of her.

That's why he almost breaks down and cries when he sees her for the first time in RE6, when he's never done that when reuniting with Ada. It's because Sherry is carrying with her so many of the pieces of Leon that he left behind in order to properly fill the role of a federal agent. Doing what he did for her makes him more of a father to her than William Birkin ever was, and Sherry knows this. That's why she didn't think twice about following in his footsteps and jumping at the opportunity to become an agent herself -- and, to do that, she trusts Derek goddamn Simmons when she really shouldn't have, but she does it because she's still carrying the old Leon's optimism and trustfulness and faith in humanity. Again: she's following in Leon's footsteps, and the old Leon is the only Leon she ever really knew. Even if she didn't know him nearly as well as Ada did.

I think, on some unconscious level buried deep within his psyche, Leon knows this -- but it's a reality that's too painful to face, so he doesn't. Instead, he projects all of that shit onto Ada, because it's easier that way. Besides, he's been doing it for so long already, so why stop now? There's comfort in the familiar, and Ada is nothing if not familiar.

But, to go back to what I was saying earlier about Ada trusting that Leon will always be who he's always been -- that's also why he believes in her in RE6 when no one else does. Part of it is his projections about his past self and all that bullshit, but there's also an element of... "she would do the same for me." Because she has. She's been doing it for years.

And in that specific regard, there is a real maturity to their relationship that doesn't really get enough attention or praise from the fanbase. The whole "sexual tension" thing is stupid, and you're right to point it out in your ask as being stupid, because Leon and Ada's relationship isn't about sex -- and it shouldn't be! And that's why that line in Damnation is so fucking pointless and stupid AND I HATE IT lmao Leon and Ada's relationship is about two people who accept and trust each other without judgement, even when they really shouldn't.

NOW.

WITH ALL THAT BEING SAID.

EVERYTHING I JUST WROTE OUT IN THAT HUGE WALL OF TEXT IS ONLY APPLICABLE TO THE OG STORYLINE. THE REMAKES DO SOMETHING VERY, VERY DIFFERENT WITH LEON AND ADA. And honestly, the massive changes to their relationship are really the #1 major reason why I believe the remakes are a completely different timeline of events -- because so much of what I just said is not fucking true for the remake versions of Leon and Ada. It's just straight up not true.

Remake Leon does not accept Remake Ada for who she is (he literally asks her to fucking change, for god's sake!! LMAO), and he definitely does not fucking trust her. RE4make basically erased the canonicity of Leon/Ada as a romantic relationship. It's not there anymore; it's no longer a canon romance; it's gone. If it's anything still at all, it's one-sided unrequited Ada having fallen for Leon, and him not being able to get away from her fast enough.

But that doesn't mean that their relationship is lacking in intimacy.

We've talked before about how Remake Leon is touch-starved as fuck -- and touch seems to be his love language. And while Leon is greedy and sneaky with the touches he steals from Ashley in RE4make, none of those little touches that the two of them pass back and forth come anywhere close to Ada's touches in RE2make.

The scene between them on the shuttle is very intimate -- and not just because she kisses him. It's the way she sits so close to him, the way she leans into him, the way she keeps a hand on his knee and gently caresses it with her thumb. It's the way they both speak in more hushed tones, the way she tries to be soothing with the tone of her voice. It's how she kisses him -- close-lipped and gentle, meant only to ease his anxiety and quiet his mind (and also get him to shut the fuck up for two goddamn seconds. god I respect her so much for this LMAO).

And not just that scene, but it's also present in the way she patches him up after he gets shot. We don't get to see it, but if you look again at Leon's bandages? She had to strip him the fuck down in order to do that LMAO home girl was sitting there unbuttoning his shirt and going "this sucks he's unconscious this isn't even fun. pain in the ass." And when he wakes up? Sure, she's gone, but he definitely knows that she had to have been all up in his business in order to do what she did -- and she left her coat behind with him as a fucking blanket and I'm sorry but that's so cute. IT'S CUTE. I'LL ADMIT IT. But it was probably a moment for him of "Wow. She really cares." -- because, again, touch is his love language. AND BOY DID SHE DO THAT A WHOLE FUCKIN LOT.

So, basically.

What I'm trying to say is.

Leon and Ada's relationship is poorly written and poorly executed and I hate it for a myriad of reasons, most of which involve the fact that it limits Ada's character and waters her down to a really unnecessary degree, but... I can't bring myself to say that there's no there there. Are they the hot and sexy spy vs spy ship that the director of Damnation desperately wanted us to believe they are? Absolutely fucking not. Is the ship predicated on only semi-resolved sexual tension? Also fucking no.

Does any of that actually matter...? Again... No. It doesn't matter. There is something to it. Even if they are still mostly strangers to each other, knowing facts about each other isn't what's important about their relationship. It's knowing who the other is at their core that's important.

At least, in OG.

In Remake, Leon can't fucking stand her by the time of RE4. And if anyone tries to say otherwise, they're fucking delusional.

Though I honestly believe that if either version of Ada learned more about who Leon was in the day-to-day, she'd probably like him a whole lot less. Leon, shave your face and stop drinking and why are the fucking Beastie Boys playing in your car when you're driving to work and holy shit are you really watching Casino for the third time this week oh my god

#resident evil #resident evil 4 #resident evil 2 #leon kennedy #ada wong #meta analysis #AND NOW I NEVER WANT TO TALK ABOUT THIS SHIP AGAIN

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