#gets counted as work. I'm no longer willing to work for free just because i don't want to seem lazy or rude or because i like the person

[tardis--dreams]

Who's gonna tell my boss that I'm in fact not willing to work more than I'm paid for. 20 hours a month are not enough for the amount of work she wants me to do so either give me more money or get your shit done without me

[space-mango-company]

Stranger | Chapter 2

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

TW: Descriptions of Violence, Mentions of Cannibalism

Tags: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Smut (still not in this chapter lmao), No use of y/n, Original Characters, Canon what canon

Word Count: 2k

A/N: So... this was posted prematurely a couple hours ago. This is the actual finished longer version. If you don't know what I'm talking about, thank god. Sorry this took so long, lmao

Just letting you guys know that my knowledge of the lore is purely based off of the movies and the Dune wiki rabbit hole I fell into right after watching part two. I also took a few liberties with the canon here.

I'm super open to constructive criticism, or any criticism at all (feel free to absolutely roast me). Like I mentioned, I've never written fanfic before so I'd love to hear your thoughts!

The evening of your first day in Giedi Prime was celebrated with a banquet where you were introduced to the most important people on the planet. You've heard many stories of the ruthlessness and brutality of the Harkonnens, hence surprised by the courtly welcome during the dinner. Although you did your best to politely ignore the Baron who floated at the head of the table being fed by servants.

You were sat beside his nephew who, despite your mother's education, has evaded your insight. You couldn't quite get a read on him.

Feyd-Rautha whispers to you amid the buzzing conversations of the banquet hall, "are you enjoying the food, little hawk?"

You shoot him a questioning look.

"I like your hairpin," he sneers.

You resist from reaching to touch the Atreides symbol affixed in your hair.

"We don't see such ornaments often here." He quietly laughs in his devilish way, only too amused with himself.

Ah, you realize. He means to torment you.

"Seems early for pet names," you say, picking at your plate, "we've only just met."

"Oh, and yet we are to be wed in less than a week's time," his raspy voice rings in your ear, "I should like to be familiar with my future wife, Lady Atreides."

The marriage pact had been signed when you were only a little girl. Inheriting your father's inclinations, you swore you would uphold your duty, undeterred by the gruesome and abhorrent stories about the Harkonnens—because you knew that centuries of conflict could end within a generation with this union. You were a willing bride.

And yet.

You give him a smile that, to those not privy to your conversation, would seem genuine, "You know nothing of me, na-Baron."

"I should like to learn," you doubt his sincerity but care not enough to discern it. He takes a smug bite of a forkful of meat, "perhaps tomorrow, you shall learn something of me."

The following morning Iassa helps you into another black gown, this time with a veil in anticipation of the black sun.

"Is it not dangerous for Feyd-Rautha to wager his life for a show?" you question.

"The na-Baron is a skilled fighter, my lady. He will emerge victorious," Iassa is straight-faced as she drapes the veil over you.

"Yes, I do not doubt it, but given he is the Baron's heir. Does it not seem a touch irresponsible to even risk it at all."

Not that you actually cared for his life, you just expected that the Harkonnens would be concerned with the preservation of their house regardless of their brutality. You recall your grandfather who got himself killed fighting bulls for sport.

"The na-Baron will be fighting war prisoners. They will be drugged beforehand. It is perfectly safe, my lady."

"Oh." You couldn't decide if you were disappointed or not, "I see."

Iassa seemed intent on dropping the subject, so you do.

You stand before a mirror and take a look at yourself. It is impossible not to be reminded of your mother. She was never one for vanity, but you like to think there was a part of her that always enjoyed the elegant dresses she and you 'had' to wear. You allow yourself a somber smile behind your veil.

"You look beautiful, my lady," Iassa curtsies.

"Thank you," you look at her bowed figure, gray robes made more dull by the stark black choker on her neck. You were sure she was at least 2 standard years younger than you are and it had only been a few months since you came of age. You wondered if she liked pretty dresses too.

Before you can ask her, there is a knock at your door.

The house steward, Jaromir, clears his throat when Iassa opens it for you, "The na-Baron requests your presence before he enters the arena."

Heavy doors open for you in one of the chambers beneath the arena. You are greeted by the sight of a half-dressed Feyd-Rautha being helped into his armor by a servant.

"Lady Atreides," he looks you up and down, "I hope you slept well."

You bow your head in acknowledgment.

"Your knives, master," a large man whom you assume to be the bladesmith presents Feyd-Rautha with two daggers.

The young Harkonnen takes one and caresses the blade with his fingers.

"I've come to wish the brave na-Baron well before his fight in the arena," you say in false earnestness.

He smiles at your inflation of his ego.

"Though I must say, I am relieved it is all for show. I would not like to see my groom wounded before we are wed."

"For show?" Feyd-Rautha tilts his head and you see his arrogant facade show the slightest crack.

"Yes, I've heard your opponents will be drugged will they not?" your voice dripping with innocence, "to ensure your safety, of course."

His grip on the dagger tightens, "and where did you hear this exactly?"

You sense the awkwardness and tension in the servants. The one who had helped don Feyd-Rautha's armor has quietly retreated to the far side of the chamber. There is a subtle tremble in the hands of one holding a plate of towels. You finally notice the three women piled upon a raised platform glaring at you.

"Just voices around the fortress," you shrug.

A deep breath recovers Feyd-Rautha's smug expression. "Call for the warden," he orders one of the guards by the door, "tell him to prepare new prisoners. Sober ones."

"My lord, you need not endanger yourself," you feign worry.

"Nonsense." The na-Baron walks closer to tower over you, "My lady bride deserves to see my true prowess."

He sees through your challenge, but you don't care. Seeing his self-satisfied smirk wiped from his face for even just a second was worth it.

"Besides," he turns away from you to inspect the second knife, "my darlings enjoy meat that's fought for its life."

The three women sneer at this and you see their sharp teeth as they hiss amongst themselves.

You've heard of Feyd-Rautha's concubines long before you arrived on Giedi Prime. Tales of their taste for human flesh were one of the things that tested your resolve in fulfilling the marriage pact. You didn't mind that the na-Baron would keep other women. It would result in less of his attentions on yourself, you figured. It was their perverse appetite that nauseated you.

A look of revulsion hides behind your veil which you sense they would be all too happy to rip to shreds.

"I will see you in the stands, little hawk," Feyd-Rautha whispers to you as he waves for a guard to escort you out.

You do your best to drown out the noise of what seemed to be a countless audience that came to see the na-Baron fight. You could understand now why they uphold such brutal traditions. The people are so excited for it.

On the other side of the arena, you sense Vladimir Harkonnen watching you from the Baron's Box that towered over the whole arena. The blazing sun only helps you avoid looking in his direction. You were sat at a viewing box, still for nobility and separated from the masses, but much lower and closer to the sands of the arena. Jaromir had told you that you were to 'give the na-Baron your favor'.

Before long, the master of ceremonies announces Feyd-Rautha's entrance in Giedi Prime Speech. They are celebrating his betrothal to you and the union of Harkonnen and Atreides, you translate in your head. You wonder if the people care for the politics of the Great Houses. They seemed no less excited to cheer at your name despite the centuries-old blood feud.

Massive doors open as the na-Baron walks into the arena. His arms outstretched holding his knives like an extension of his limbs. He riles up the crowd as he walks towards the Baron's Box and kneels to his uncle. He then rises and walks toward you, smirking under the stark light of the black sun.

You may not fear earning the Harkonnens' contempt, but you were the Duke of Caladan's daughter and you knew that the favor of the people was invaluable.

You stand and walk to the edge of the viewing box. The glowing smile you reveal as you lift your veil draws cheers from the crowd that rival what Feyd-Rautha received. You produce a pure white handkerchief from your dress pocket and make a show of kissing it and waving the cloth at the buzzing crowd. You throw it off the edge and it floats toward the na-Baron who had moved both daggers to one hand to catch it. He looks up at you with what you think could be the seeds of respect and tucks the cloth into the tight armband around his right bicep.

He turns back to the audience and raises his knives in a war cry. The crowd explodes in guttural cheers and applause. Feyd-Rautha takes his position in the middle of the arena as his first opponent is released into the white sands.

You've heard of the Harkonnen heir's aptitude in single combat. It's time to see if the stories were true or if it was just another part of their menacing facade.

You were handed a pair of spyglasses to observe with. The two fighters approach each other, the prisoner wielding a knife of his own. Feyd-Rautha holds a taunting stance. The prisoner was sober, you were sure, but even without the spyglasses, you could see he was weak. You surmised the Harkonnen cells weren't very hospitable. He attempts a swipe but the na-Baron parries with ease. Another and the na-Baron dodges. Zooming in, you could see Feyd-Rautha's twisted amusement. He was toying with the poor man—and the people loved it.

The crowds cheered at the clashing of metal, thundering when the na-Baron drew first blood by slashig his opponent's arm. It wasn't long before Feyd-Rautha's dagger had impaled the prisoner's heart. There was no pause before a second prisoner was brought out to meet a similar fate.

Feyd-Rautha stood unwounded, seething with exhilaration. He enjoyed this; the thrill of killing. He basked in the roar of the crowd. You had never ended a life before, but some deep part of you could almost understand how he felt in that moment.

A third prisoner enters the arena. He looked older than the first two, bearded and taller. He reminded you of Gurney Halleck, the Atreides Warmaster. This man certainly wasn't at his prime but you could tell he would not go down as easily as the first two.

The warrior holds his blade out in a firm fighting stance, refusing to make the first move. You notice picadors in black suits have entered the arena, circling the na-Baron and his opponent. Feyd-Rautha lunges at the prisoner and a quick series of parries from both sides occur. You see the finesse in the na-Baron's movement. He recognizes his opponent's skill and he is taking this one seriously. You were not sure what you expected of the Harkonnen's fighting style but Feyd-Rautha was vicious but precise. The crowd gasps when the prisoner disarms one of the na-Baron's knives. The warrior manages to get a grip on Feyd-Rautha's armed hand and aims to pierce the na-Baron's neck with his blade. The na-Baron struggled against his hold and the arid air was thick with anticipation.

You were unsure what outcome you desired as you stared through your spyglass. Perhaps this warrior kills your betrothed. What then? Would you really be able to go back to Caladan's windy cliffs again? Return to the arms of your mother as if it were all a bad dream? You wonder if when Feyd-Rautha becomes baron, and you his baroness, could you convince him to let you see your family.

The warrior's blade was dangerously close to your future husband's throat when one of the picadors lashes at the warrior. The na-Baron growls at the offending picador as the warrior is weakened. Feyd-Rautha pushes him off and allows him a moment to recover, taunting him to try again. Blades clash once more and after a sequence of quick ferocious movements, Feyd-Rautha's blade slashes the warrior's throat. Blood made black by the infrared of the sun splatters onto the na-Baron. He licks the darkness that landed on his lips. Heaving, he takes your bloodied handkerchief off his armband and raises it to you and the roaring crowd.

You did not even realize you were already standing, breathless at the sight.

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

Taglist: @torchbearerkyle @austinswhitewolf @dreamlandcreations @emeraldsgirl @strawberryfieldsforevermore

[nicoline1998enilocin]

His innocent assistant | Part 2

PAIRING | Tony Stark x Lab Assistent!Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT | 4.8K

SUMMARY | Tony enjoys taking you to his parties as his date since he loves to show off his sweet, innocent assistant to everyone willing to hear about you. This time, however, the party doesn't go entirely to plan as he finds you flirting with none other than the God of Mischief himself, and jealousy takes over his entire being.

RATING | Explicit (E)

WARNINGS/TAGS | Innocent Reader, use of nickname (Princess, Gorgeous), jealous Tony

SMUT | Daddy kink, breeding kink, hair pulling, dirty talk, backscratching, lots of praise, lots of hickies, nipple play, oral (F&M receiving) 69, facesitting, fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), rough sex, multiple orgasms, aftercare.

A/N | This one-shot is written based on this request by @ccbsrmsf1. From the moment you thought of this idea, I couldn't let it go, and I'm very happy with how it turned out! This GIF you provided is also heaven, and it took me way longer than necessary to finish this because I kept going back to stare at it! The story can be read as a follow-up to part 1 or a standalone one-shot. I'm forever thankful for the sweet, wonderful, and amazing @ccbsrmsf1 who has proofread this story. 🩷

EVENTS Masterlist | @fandombingo | Loki Laufeyson Masterlist | @fandom-free-bingo | "I'm going to kill you."

Banners: Yours truly | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF: @ccbsrmsf1

Main Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist | Part 1

Everyone knows Tony's parties are exceptional - each more than the last - and it is always one of your favorite evenings when you get to accompany him as his date. There is never money saved on the lavish evenings, which also goes for your outfit. Tony has picked the perfect dress this time, and you're excited to wear it.

The dark green fabric drapes around your body beautifully, highlighting your curves just the way you like, and it makes you feel like the most beautiful Princess ever to walk the face of the earth. You're still determining how he does it, but Tony gets you a gown that fits you like a glove each time, and you enjoy being spoiled by him.

When your hair and make-up are done, you look in the mirror. Your nails match your dress, and the make-up is light to give your dress all the attention it deserves. The color compliments your skin, and when Tony arrives to pick you up for the party, he has to pick his jaw from the floor first.

"Look at you, Princess, you look amazing tonight," he purrs in your ear, his hands on your waist and squeezing very gently. The compliment lights a fire inside you, and you smile even wider as your eyes meet his in the floor-to-ceiling mirror.

"Thank you, Daddy, you picked a perfect dress for me!" you tell him excitedly before turning around and pulling him into a tight hug. He can feel his cock twitch as you call him 'Daddy,' which has become more natural to you now. He has to try not to rip the fabric off you to have his fill of you right here and now, so he is genuinely testing his patience.

Only one more night until he tells you how he truly feels about you. There is only one more night to get through before he can finally tell you what has been on his mind for a while now. With one last deep breath, he shows you his biggest smile as well before leading you away from the mirror and into the car waiting outside for the two of you.

After Tony has helped you into the car, you take your place, sighing when you're finally comfortable and ready to go. After a long week of work, you're looking forward to the party, just letting go for a few hours and crashing at Tony's apartment like you've done countless times before.

''When we get there, we have to walk the red carpet first, Princess," Tony tells you, and you nod happily.

Usually, taking photos isn't your favorite activity, but you will enjoy it with your appearance tonight. The outfit is stunning, and you can't wait to show everyone how much of a princess you are tonight.

As soon as you arrive, Tony speeds out of the car to help you out of the car as well, and you can see almost everyone is already at the party. As the host, he always likes to be 'fashionably late' as he calls it.

"Let's go, Princess, it's your time to shine on the carpet," Tony whispers before leading you to the long, bright red fabric on the floor, constantly stopping to take photos, always with Tony close by. Taking pictures is alright tonight, especially with how Tony has dressed you.

When the photos are finally over, you head inside, walking over to the bar to get a drink when you get stopped by Natasha and Wanda - dressed in black and red, respectively - their signature colors complimenting their hair and make-up perfectly.

"Girl, you look like the belle of the ball tonight!" Natasha says as she pulls you in for a hug. Out of all the Avengers, you have liked her most, as she is the girlfriend you have always wished to have. She doesn't treat you like you're 'dumb' or less than her; she accepts your innocence without looking down on you.

"Thank you so much! Tony got this beautiful dress for me, and I feel like a princess tonight," you tell her, and you feel his fingers digging slightly into your side. After a few more compliments and pleasantries, Tony takes you to the bar for a much-needed drink.

When you're there, he is suddenly pulled away for some business with Bruce, and you look around the party, spotting some of the other Avengers, too. Steve and Bucky are in a darker corner of the bar, and you wave at them. They politely give you a wave and a large smile in return.

When you decide to walk around and see if there's anyone else you could talk to for a little while, you're suddenly stopped by a dark-haired, slender man with a dark green suit that looks perfect against his pale skin.

"Hi, Loki! It's been a long time since I've seen you. How are you?" you ask as he pulls you in for a hug, which you happily reciprocate.

"I'm even better now that I've run into you! Your body is beautiful now that it's adorned with my signature color, Gorgeous," Loki says in a smooth tone, making you preen a little at his words. He's always been a charmer toward you; it makes you feel good when he tells you these things.

"You look good too, Loki," you tell him as you sip your drink, letting the liquid warm you from the inside out. He keeps the conversation going for a while, asking about your work as he talks about life on Asgard, too, as it has always fascinated you.

"Do you want to visit our palace sometime, Gorgeous? You'll fit right in there between all the royalty that lives there," Loki tells you, and you let out an excited squeal. When he hears this, Tony turns his head towards you, a muscle in his jaw ticking as he sees the two of you.

You don't notice it as you look his way and smile at him, and he smiles back at you before sending a death stare toward Loki. He gives him a mischievous look in return before turning back to you.

"Are you sure it's okay for me to visit there? I mean, I don't want to overstep or anything!" you ask, and when he confirms it's okay, you smile broadly at the thought of being able to visit Asgard with Loki. The entire time, Tony keeps an eye on you and is close enough to hear every word you two exchange.

It doesn't take long before Tony excuses himself to come and see what you are up to, and that's when Loki decides to lay it on even thicker with the flirting.

"Have I told you that there is not a single star in the universe that shines as bright as you? With your beautiful smile, and-" is all he can say before Tony makes his way over, having enough of Loki flirting with his girl.

"Can I talk to you for a moment, Princess? Something important came up in the lab, and I need your help," Tony says sweetly before sending you on your way, even though nothing is happening there. If there were, you would have gotten a notification on your phone, and you look at it to be sure, but there's nothing.

The second you're out of earshot, Tony turns back to Loki, who's just giving him an amused smile.

"The next time you even think about pulling a stunt like this again, I'm going to kill you, Laufeyson," Tony growls, his dark brown eyes looking angry at the God in front of him.

"I'm looking forward to it, Stark. Now go get your girl; she must be waiting for you in the lab," Loki says, and Tony quickly turns around before maneuvering his way through the crowd to get to you. Seeing you with Loki has uprooted some feelings he has tried to push away for a long time, but he can't deny them any longer.

"Princess, wait!" he says as you step into the elevator, ready to take the ride down to Tony's lab - and your working area. As you stand in the opening of the elevator, you turn around to see Tony running towards you.

"Can we talk? I need to tell you something, and I really can't wait any longer to tell you this," he says between pants, catching his breath as you step into the elevator together, but he doesn't push any buttons, instead letting the doors close behind you so it's just you and him.

"What's wrong, Daddy? Did something bad happen in the lab?" you ask with furrowed brows, worry starting to settle in your stomach as he looks at you with the most beautiful, deep brown eyes you've ever seen. Now that he's this close to you, you can't help but take a good look at him.

"Nothing happened in the lab, Princess; it was just something I said to get you out of there without raising any suspicion," he tells you, and even though you feel a little hurt at his words, you quickly forgive him. If there's one person you can never be mad at, it's Tony.

"I- I don't know where to start..." Tony starts as he rubs his neck with his hand, looking at the floor as he gathers his thoughts. Now that he will confess his feelings, he's unsure how to say the words. They're getting caught in his throat and won't come out.

"It's okay, Daddy; you know you can tell me everything, right?" you say as you step to him, taking his face in your hands and lifting it to your soothing eyes. You give him a small smile, which he returns before taking a deep breath, gathering every last bit of courage he can muster.

"I- I have feelings for you, Princess. At first, the feelings were only physical, but they have grown to be more. I can't stop thinking about you. I even dream about you, and it's taking over every second of every day," he tells you, but you're not entirely sure what he's talking about. You think about him often, and sometimes you also dream about Tony.

"I do that too, Tony; it's okay. There's nothing to be ashamed of! I even dreamt about you last night!" you tell him excitedly, and Tony chuckles at your innocence. You're not dumb, far from it even, but you're just very innocent when it comes to these things, and it warms his heart each time.

"No, Princess, I think you're not getting what I'm telling you. What I mean is that- well- I'm in love with you more than I've ever been with anyone. I get butterflies in my stomach each time you say good morning or when our fingers brush when you hand me my coffee," he tells you, a deep blush on his cheeks as he tells you these things.

"I love you, Princess, and I want you to be mine. I want to call you my girlfriend, fall asleep with you in my arms each night, and make breakfast for you in the mornings. I want to go on dates and take long vacations to the other side of the world. I want to kiss you whenever, and I want you, Princess. Above all else, I want you more than I can ever explain," Tony finishes his confessions. That's when he notices the tears gathering in the corner of your eyes.

This is the first time someone has ever told you this instead of hanging out with you for sex, and it is warming your heart. Finally, someone sees you for the woman who you are inside, and it's all you ever wanted and more.

"I love you too, Tony," is all that leaves your mouth in a whisper before you lean in to kiss his lips, sealing in the love confession you have just exchanged. Your lips move together in a sweet, soft pace that has both your hearts beating faster, your bodies slowly inching towards one another until your chests are touching.

The moment you move away to get some air, you already miss the feeling of his lips on yours, wishing the moment lasted forever. Instead of physically pushing the elevator button, Tony orders JARVIS to lead the elevator to his penthouse, as he doesn't want to let you go anymore. Now that you're his, he's not letting you out of his grasp again.

As soon as you and Tony are in his beautiful penthouse overlooking the Manhattan skyline, one of your favorite sights to see. You're often in front of your bedroom window as you admire the view, but that's nothing compared to the sight up here.

"Do you like what you see, Princess?" Tony asks as he comes to stand behind you. You're standing in front of his huge floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room, marveling at the sight. As you keep looking outside, Tony lets his hands glide over your bare arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

"Yeah, it's beautiful at night," you whisper as Tony lets the fabric of your dress glide off your shoulders, baring your entire top half to him. As soon as the cool air of the room hits your exposed flesh, your nipples pebble instantly, and your eyes shut as a shudder runs down your spine.

"Look at you, already so responsive for me," Tony says as a smile tugs at the corners of your lips. It doesn't take long before the rest of your dress is also on the floor, and you're standing in front of him in nothing but a pair of lacy panties and your heels.

An appreciative sound leaves his lips as he takes in your figure in the window, the reflection giving him the perfect sight. His hands roam a little more over your body before finding your hard nipples, letting his fingers ghost over them before softly rolling and tugging to get the small moans out of you he loves so much.

"That's it, Princess, let Daddy make you feel good," he whispers as you give yourself to him and his touches. Your hands are clenched in fists by your side, and your thighs are rubbing together to give yourself some relief as your panties are dampening more and more each second.

"D-Daddy," you whimper, and Tony feels his hard cock twitch against the fabric of his jeans, the zipper digging into his flesh. He keeps stimulating your nipples for a little longer before carefully pulling his hands away, making you whine softly at the loss of his touch.

"Don't worry, Princess, if you come with me to the bedroom, I will make you feel so good you'll forget just about anything but my name," Tony says, which excites you a lot. You practically run to his bedroom, and Tony can't help but chuckle, his gaze locked on the way your butt jiggles as you take each step.

It doesn't take long for Tony to appear in the bedroom, his jacket, tie, and shirt long gone, and his pants already open as he walks over to you on the bed. The brown in his eyes is almost completely gone as the lust has taken over, a smirk on his lips as he looks at you. This look has you feeling warm all over and your panties dampening even more until they're practically soaked through.

"Spread your beautiful thighs for me, Princess, so Daddy can see how wet your princess parts are for him," he says, and you do as he asks. A groan escapes his chest as he sees you're dripping for him, and he can't wait any longer as he sits on the bed, leaning down until his face is at eye level with your soaked pussy.

"Look at that, such a good girl for Daddy," he praises you as his hands guide your thighs even further apart to make room for him and his broad shoulders. He places a few soft, small kisses on the crease where your thighs meet your hips before moving to the wet fabric of your panties.

"So wet for me already, hm? I can't wait to have a taste of your sweet juices, Princess," he says, and without any further warning, he sucks the fabric of your panties into his mouth, letting the taste of you flood his tastebuds with a deep groan. He licks your clit through the fabric, which only adds to your pleasure, your back arching as you grind your hips against his face.

"D-Daddy! 'M close," you tell him as your hands grab his hair, but he doesn't give up, no matter how hard you pull on it. Instead, he only works harder to get you to your first orgasm of the night, as he's planning on giving you many, many more. He just groans in response as he keeps working your clit, and before you know it, your first orgasm washes over you, soaking the fabric in Tony's mouth even more.

He keeps working you through your orgasm until you push his head away, finally letting go of the fabric, which he quickly pulls off before throwing it on the floor. You're panting as you let your head fall back onto his pillows, a thin layer of sweat already adorning your skin. And this was only the first of the evening.

"Taste so sweet, Princess. Your juices always make me go crazy; I can never get enough of them, he tells you as, between the hickies, he sucks into the plush flesh of your soft thighs. He takes his sweet time decorating both with a litter of purple bruises before he gets up to take off his pants, finally freeing himself from the confinements.

He looks at you straight-faced, and what came out of his mouth next surprised you.

"I want you to sit on my face, Princess; I want to work you open nice and slow before I sink my thick, delicious monster of a cock into that tight, warm pussy of yours," Tony says to you, and you feel a gush of arousal between your thighs as you lift your head in astonishment.

"A-Are you sure?" you ask him, and he nods before kneeling in front of you on the bed.

"I've never been more sure about anything, Princess. There's nothing more than for you to sit on my face - sit, not hover - as I open you up for me," he tells you before capturing your lips with his, the feeling of his tongue in your mouth intoxicating you. Far too soon for your liking, he pulls away, giving you a questioning look.

"Okay," you tell him, and you let him get into position before you straddle his face in reverse cowgirl style and sink until your pussy is fully settled on his mouth and tongue. A groan leaves Tony's chest as he starts to eat you out, his warm tongue feeling a bit odd yet very pleasant inside your pussy.

As time goes on and the pleasure builds, you lay yourself down on his chest, his cock lying hard on his abdomen as pre-cum leaks from the tip. You give it an experimental lick, which makes him groan again, and it only adds to your pleasure. His tongue keeps going inside you as well as stimulating your clit as you take him into your hand, jerking him up and down slowly.

It's most definitely not the first time you will suck him off, but it has never been this intimate before. The times before this have always been in his lab, and after, you have always returned to your work as if it was part of your job, but this time is different in the best way possible.

When Tony carefully introduces two fingers into the mix as well, you let out a loud moan before grinding against them, fucking them in and out of yourself at a leisurely pace. As you do this, you wrap your lips around the tip of Tony's cock, your hand still pumping up and down over the velvety shaft.

"Hmmm, that's it," Tony moans as you take more and more of him into your mouth while he patiently keeps stretching you open. It doesn't take long for him to fit three fingers inside you comfortably, and he praises you for taking him so well. When you're about halfway down his shaft, you can't take any more of him, so you let your hand take care of the rest.

"One more finger, Princess, one more finger, and then I can finally make love to you the way I've been dreaming of for so long," he tells you, and you moan around his cock at the thought. As he stretches you with his fourth finger, he keeps sucking on your clit, and before you can even comprehend what's happening, you cum, squeezing his fingers like a vice.

The moans you let escape are almost enough to send Tony over the edge too, but he manages to hold out long enough not to cum, as he wants to fuck it deep into your pussy, and not your mouth. When you're finally adequately stretched, he lets you climb off before manhandling you in the position he wants you in, a squeal escaping when he does.

"There you go, Princess, that's just perfect," Tony says as he takes his place between your thighs, his cock still hard as a rock between his own, his balls heavy and full of cum.

"Ready?" he asks, and as soon as you nod, he lines up with your entrance, slowly pushing in. The tip easily glides in as you're dripping at this point, your arousal being all the lubricant you need to make this comfortable.

"God, this fucking pussy feels so good! And you know what's the best of it all?" Tony asks you as he sinks in further, and you shake your head. He grabs your thighs as he bends them back, giving him even more room to work with as he practically folds you in half.

"It's all mine. You're mine, and I'm never letting you go. Do you understand that? You're my girl, and no one else can have you," Tony says as he bottoms out, a long, deep moan following from both of you as he does. After you've adjusted to him, he repositions himself so he can fuck you the best way he knows how.

As he practically lays himself over your body, his biceps keeping your legs folded back, he sets a brutal pace that has you crying out his name. He knows you can handle more than you think, and if you ever need it, you can safeword at any moment in time, no questions asked. But you don't because you enjoyed being pounded like this - like he's using you like his human fleshlight.

Long, broken moans escape your lips as your eyes roll into the back of your head. The sound of balls slapping against your wet skin and Tony's groans all mix to make the most delicious yet dirty harmony, which neither of you can get enough of.

"Feels so good, Princess, squeezing Daddy's cock with this tight pussy of yours," he says, and the closer you're getting to his orgasm, the more you're looking for something to ground yourself. Eventually, you find his back, leaving many deep, dark red scratches.

The burning sensations on the scratches on his back only turn Tony on even more, his balls drawing closer to his body as he can't hold out much longer, his orgasm quickly approaching.

"God, 'm gonna cum, Princess! Gonna fuck every drop of my cum into your pussy until you're fucking pregnant with my baby! That's what you want, huh? Daddy's cum? I thought so," he says with a smirk, and it doesn't take long for both of you to cum at the same time, Tony shooting every last drop of his cum deep into you.

"Jesus, fuck! 'S so much cum for you, Princess, all for you," he says as he pants on top of you, the burning sensation of the scratches on his back making him chuckle.

"I love you, Princess; I love you so much," he whispers against your hair before he pulls out, making you whine at the loss of his cock inside your pussy. As he rolls onto his side, you carefully stretch your legs after the position he's had you in for a while, a groan leaving your lips at the feeling of your sore muscles.

"Daddy?" you ask in a small, slightly slurred voice.

"Yes, Princess?" he says as he looks at you and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear.

"Love you too," you tell him with a small smile, and with that, he pulls you against his chest, getting some much-needed post-sex cuddles. This type of intimacy is something you enjoy, and finally, exploring it with Tony fills your heart with nothing but love.

Tony pulled the covers over both of you after you fell asleep, the exertion from earlier lulling you into a slumber immediately. After about an hour and a half, you wake up again with a rumbling belly.

"I can hear someone's a little hungry! How about this: I will run us a nice, hot bath, and while you get the first soak in the hot water, I'll prepare some of your favorite fruits. After that, I'll join you, and we can enjoy it together," he offers, and you nod.

The loss of Tony in the bed has you crawling deeper under the covers, rolling yourself up like a burrito as you wait for the bath to be filled and Tony to get you. Luckily, you don't have to wait long, and he's soon back in the bedroom to pick you up and let you sink into the bath.

The hot water is soothing for your sore muscles, specifically your hips and thighs, and with a sigh, you let yourself settle in the water while Tony goes to get the promised fruit. You close your eyes for just a few minutes, and once Tony's back with a bowl of different fruits, you make some room for him to join you.

"Hmm, the water feels perfect," he sighs as you get comfortable on his lap, and you nod in agreement. The two of you feed each other the different pieces of fruit, from strawberries and raspberries to some mango and pineapple, making it a delicious mix.

A comfortable silence has fallen over you as you finish the bowl of fruits before washing each other carefully. Taking a bath is something you very much enjoy, and to do it together with Tony only makes it about ten times better, and you already can't wait for the next one you get to take together.

Once you're both done and Tony has dried you off, he hands you one of his t-shirts to sleep in before he pulls on a pair of sweatpants, not bothering to put on a pair of boxers this time. As soon as you're back in Tony's arms, nestled deep under the covers, you fall into a deep sleep, which you need.

The following day, Tony woke up before you, but he left a note to let you know he was in the gym. So, as soon as you put on a pair of Tony's boxershorts, you quickly go to your bedroom to get dressed in sweatpants and an old t-shirt before breakfast, hoping it isn't too obvious you slept with Tony last night.

When you are in the kitchen, you quickly make yourself a smoothie bowl before heading to the gym and sitting on the pile of mats as you watch Tony work out. When your gaze meets his in the mirror he's standing in front of, he stops for a moment to wink at you and take his shirt off, only to be met with lots of gasps from everyone in the room.

While Tony assumes it's about his physique, you can see what's happening. You have scratched Tony so hard and deep that most of the lines have turned into bruises, making his back look like a cat's claw mauled it.

"Wow, Stark! Looks like you got lucky last night!" Natasha says as she looks at you, and the feeling of embarrassment runs through you.

"What are you-" is all he can say before someone shows him a picture of his back, and he gasps loudly. Not because he's horrified, but because he's proud that he made you feel so good last night, it's still visible today.

"I sure did, man! And this won't be the last time either," he says with a wink to you, and a broad smile appears on your face. He wears every single one of your marks with pride, and even though most people don't know they're from you, you still take pride in the fact you're the one who gave them to him.

[vibrantbirdy]

You are so incredibly talented! I love reading all of your works! : )

Could I request a Cal Kestis x female reader (or OC, no preference really). I’ve been super into the game recently and just love his character. Maybe a really strong female character, but she gets flustered by Cal’s confidence, and how much she has grown to like him more than friends. I totally see him being a complete flirt (but still sweet). Haha. I’ve always had this idea that it would be cool for a force user to show someone what it’s like by holding their hand and pulling something to them (like aiding them in using the force). Stupid maybe I don’t know lol, basically Cal being suave and laying it on thick. Fluff, crack, little spice, I’m here for whatever creative piece you get going ❤️

Firstly, thank you for your lovely words! Secondly, yay, Cal! Thank you, I'm glad someone's asked for Cal, this is a cute prompt.

Character x Reader requests are currently open in my Asks. Please read the guidelines first. Masterlist of my fics can be found here.

Title: Proximity Fandom: Star Wars Jedi Fallen Order/Survivor Games Setting: Prior to events of Jedi Survivor Genres: Sci-fi; Romance; Fluff - This is tooth-rotting fluff with a little added spice as requested ;) Warnings: This fic is 18+ so please heed and respect the adult rating. Descriptions of sexual longing/arousal; one scene of strong consensual sex - nothing too descriptive but probably on the borderline of (hopefully still sweet) mild smut. Pairing: Cal Kestis x Female Reader Chapters: 1/1 (Complete) Word Count: approx 5.5k (Because I have no self control) Summary: You are an accomplished Coruscanti thief who has been recruited by the Rebel Jedi, Cal Kestis. As you join him and his crew on their adventures aboard the Mantis, you and Cal have to navigate your growing feelings for each other.

You are standing in some Imperial-worshipping Senator's private vault in a bank nestled deep in the heart of Coruscant's palatial financial district. You've just located your prize - a data stick containing the names of high standing political and military figures within the Empire who have Republic, perhaps even Rebel leaning sympathies.

It's the Senator's insurance policy, his get out of jail free card - something he can produce at the eleventh hour in case his unwavering loyalty to the Empire turns out not to be enough to save him from the pull and push of the Imperial tide of oppression swelling across the Galaxy.

You'll sell the data stick to one Rebel faction or another, whoever is willing to pay most for your service in getting information out of Imperial hands and aiding the Rebel's recruitment drive in the process.

You're in the middle of internally congratulating yourself on successfully extracting the data stick from its complex security casing when a male voice, almost conversational in tone, rings out behind you.

"I can't let you leave with that."

Startled, you whirl around to see a man standing no more than a meter away from you. You wonder how long he's been there, watching you.

He has bright ginger hair which is swept back from his face, short at the back and sides, but longer on top and slightly ruffled. His matching red stubble sits on his cheeks, chin, upper-lip and travels up his well-defined jawline to his ears. He is dressed simply in a fawn shirt, dark grey pants, and sturdy brown boots.

A small red and white droid, bipedal, with a flat rectangular head and two photoreceptors, one slightly larger and beadier than the other, hangs almost casually off his shoulder like a pet. It's a BD unit, you think.

Both the man and the droid are rather dirty, but then, so are you after squeezing your way through a maze of dusty ventilation shafts. It makes sense the only possible way they could have gotten in here is the same way you did.

The stranger is holding something metal in his right hand that glints occasionally in the vault's dim security lighting, but you can't quite work out what it is. A weapon?

You raise your blaster.

"Don't!" he shouts, holding out a palm towards you, "The vault is magnetically sealed, if you miss, that bolt's going to cause us both a world of problems."

You raise an eyebrow because one, you already know that, and two...

"Bold of you to assume I'll miss at point blank range," you say levelly.

You keep your weapon trained steadily at the young man's chest.

He adjusts his grip on whatever it is he is holding and a green beam of light extends from the hilt of what you now realise is a lightsaber. A deep thrumming sound resonates around the small chamber.

A Jedi. Great.

You thought they were all extinct after the Emperor's purge. Briefly, childhood memories of evening strolls with your parents past the monumental ziggurat of the Jedi temple glowing golden in the low Coruscanti sun flash through your mind. You remember the thrill of excitement at seeing the Jedi, elegant and regal in their grand robes, lightsabers clinking at their belts as they swept by on important Republic business.

Right now? Here? This is the last place you want to see one.

The light from the blade illuminates the young man's face which, you have to admit, is a rather attractive combination of youthful and rugged. His nose and cheeks are peppered with freckles and his eyes contain green irises so deep in colour that they almost match his blade. A thin, red scar runs almost horizontally across the bridge of his nose, dipping down onto his right cheek. The ghost of a smirk is now playing on his lips and it has the irritating effect of making him more handsome.

You don't know why, but for some reason, you trust him instinctively not to try and cut you in half with that humming beam of hot, vibrating energy. At a stalemate, you lower your blaster. He follows your lead by deactivating the blade of his saber immediately.

"If you make me a good offer, you can have this right now," you say, one hand on your hip, the other waving the data stick in front of him impatiently.

You never like staying on the scene of a job too long and you are starting to feel on edge.

"I've got ... uhhh ... one hundred credits?"

He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly as he speaks. He knows it's a stupidly lowball offer and you scoff loudly to let him know you think so too.

"Look, I know the ISB would pay a lot for information like this but..."

"I don't sell to the Empire," you snarl, cutting him off.

He holds up his hands in a gesture of apology which seems genuine enough. He tries again.

"I really need to get this to a contact in the Mid Rim..."

"The Mid Rim?" you interrupt abruptly, "that's off-world."

"Yeah..." his brow furrows and a slow, quizzical smile spreads across his face at the obviousness of your statement.

You curse yourself for being as predictable as a cheap holo novel. All your life you've lived on Coruscant. You've never been anywhere else. These days, the endless maze of unnatural, lifeless spires and struts and blocks of artificial construction seem to press in and in and in on you so that, despite the sprawling size of the metropolis, it feels like you are living in a tiny metal cage.

Still, this stranger didn't need to know that, and you realise you've given him his angle - a bargaining chip.

"I can't buy it off you," he reasons, "I don't have the credits, but I do have a proposal. Work with me and my crew. It's regular and we're rarely on one world for too long..."

There it is...

You got in here," he continues, gesturing around the vault, "we could use someone with your skill set. And, you get to piss off the Empire in the process."

You consider his offer. You are used to working alone and you don't like the complications that come with relying on others. Trusting anyone is difficult after fending for yourself, all alone, so successfully and for so long....

But with the Empire continuing to close their fist around all aspects of daily life, work was difficult to come by on Coruscant these days. Thieving in the city from Imperial targets in particular was becoming more and more fraught with danger.

While it riled you that he was able to read you so easily, really, what did you have to lose? Because by the Force did you not want to get off Coruscant? Isn't this what you'd been waiting for your whole life? An adventure?

"One job," you counter pragmatically, extending your hand to shake his, "And we'll see how it goes from there."

"Cal Kestis," he introduces himself with a disarmingly friendly smile, "And deal."

*************************************************

One job turns into another then another and another. Weeks turn into months and soon you've been on Cal's ship - well, borrowed ship you had come to learn - the Mantis for nearly half a year.

You've grown close with the crew of the Mantis. Cal, Gabs, Bravo and the two hulking Klatooinine twins, Lizz and Koob. This type of camaraderie is new to you. You really thought you'd struggle with it, that your independent nature would rail against the confines of living in close quarters with ship mates and fitting your own whims and desires and wants around others. In reality, you've never felt more at home. You didn't realise how lonely you had become before.

And the missions you run with the crew are exhilarating. This new life is so much more than just pilfering here and there from the Empire. You feel like you are really making a difference, like you're spitting directly in the face of the Imperial machine with every job. You feel like a Rebel.

It's not all sabotage and espionage and fighting Stormtroopers though. Off duty, life on the Mantis is mainly based around friendly joshing and winding each other up. And the dull minutiae of life still goes on.

Like now.

You and Cal are patching up the Mantis while the others are out on a supply run. You are currently crouched on your haunches so that the service hatch you are examining on one of the walls inside the ship is at eye level.

Cal is stood behind you, arms folded across his chest. You've been arguing good naturedly about what the problem is with the engine cooling system for an hour and you are now impatiently waiting for BD-1 to finish his scan to find out which one of you is right.

The little droid crawls out from the tangle of wires and gives you little nod and a boop of approval. You pat BD on his rectangular head and he scurries up your arm and on to your shoulder.

"I told you that was the problem," you say, craning your neck to look up at Cal with a triumphant grin.

You gesture to the wiring tool in his hand.

"Give that to me, I'll do it."

The Jedi looks down at the small instrument in his hand then tosses it up in the air and catches it again. He has that mischievous look on his face, the one you've learned to recognise as a sign that he's about to do something really annoying.

"Kestis..." you warn standing up, unable to stop your lips curling into a smile.

You make a lunge for the tool in his hand, but he's too quick. In a flash, he's holding it up above his head. Cal is almost a head taller than you and there's no way you can reach that high, even when you stretch up onto your tiptoes.

Instead, you decide to play dirty. You jab him hard in both his sides with your fingers where you know he's ticklish. He makes a funny sort of snorting noise in surprise and his hand drops for long enough that you manage to snatch the tool from him and make off with it at great speed.

Cal darts after you, both of you careering in to the kitchen of the Mantis, the thud and scrape of your boots on the ship's durasteel grated floor ringing throughout the ship in chorus with your laughter.

BD-1 takes this opportunity to leap of your shoulder and onto the kitchen table with an indignant whirr, determined not to get involved in this organic tomfoolery.

Cal is on you in seconds. He grabs you around the middle and lifts you off the ground with ease, spinning you around and deliberately tickling you in between making grabs for the wiring tool.

You squeal and let out perhaps the most ridiculous giggle to ever escape your mouth. You can't let him get away with forcing you to make a noise like that so you elbow him in the stomach. It's only a gentle prod really, but it's enough to make him grunt and let go of you.

As Cal doubles over, winded, you sprint back around to the opposite side of kitchen table holding the instrument aloft and performing a little victory dance.

Across the table, Cal straightens and, with a cocky look on his face, he stretches his arm out towards you. You stumble forwards slightly as if pulled forwards by an invisible rope tied around your wrist as he uses the Force to tear the tool easily out of your hand and bring it flying through the air to rest in his own outstretched palm.

"That's cheating!" you say, breathlessly.

Despite your half-hearted admonishment, in reality, you're delighted. And you're certain Cal knows it. The more time you spend with him, the more that old fascination you held as a child with the strange powers of the Jedi has returned. You are always enchanted by Cal's displays of Force ability.

"Alright kids, we almost ready to go?" Gabs' voice echoing through from the Mantis' doorway signals the return of the others.

Cal shrugs at you and you both grin, panting from your exertions. Keeping his green eyes locked on yours, he backs casually towards the door to help Gabs and the others load up the supply crates. Just before he exits the ship, he tosses the wiring tool to you underarm and you catch it with an elaborate flourish and twirl that makes him laugh.

You return to your work fixing the Mantis's cooling system with BD-1. You try to concentrate, but you feel slightly giddy. You can still feel Cal's strong arms against your body as if they remain wrapped around you. His masculine scent, pleasant and earthy and fresh like petrichor, seems to linger in your proximity and on your skin.

BD-1 tries his best to keep you right. He trills or nudges you every so often either to correct your wiring or to encourage you to stop staring into space with that inane, absent-minded smile.

When you lie in your cot bed that night, the hum of the Mantis' hyperdrive lulls you into a comfortable drowsiness and your thoughts return, unbidden, to Cal.

Over the past few months, it's like the very idea of him nestled deep into your brain and now refuses to budge. Every morning when you wake, you look forward to the sight of his honest, open, expressive face. The warmth of his slightly crooked smile. The way his red brows arch when he finds something funny before he squeezes his eyes shut so tight that they crinkle at the corners as he throws back his head, letting out peels of joyful, open-mouthed laughter.

Even when he has those strange moments of quiet introspection which you don't quite understand yet, you find it hard not to watch him. You can't help it, even although you sometimes feel like you are intruding on a private, sacred moment of reflection. It's always the same. His eyes glaze over as he stares out into the distance at nothing, a muscle works in his chiselled jaw, and then his head drops as if in dignified, melancholic prayer. These periods never last too long - not when he has a crew to lead.

There's no point in denying it anymore, at least not to yourself anyway. Your feelings for Cal go beyond comradeship; beyond friendship. And a hopeful notion has formed in your head that he might actually feel the same way about you.

It's both frightening and exhilarating at the same time.

A sudden heat blooms deep within your very core and rises in your cheeks as your mind conjures the image, no, the feeling of Cal's solid, toned body, pressed against yours in a feverish, impassioned embrace, your limbs entwined, fingers woven tightly through the flames of his red hair

Force, you want him.

You place a palm against the cool durasteel wall above your head that separates your room from the Jedi's. You wonder what he's thinking of on the other side of the thin sheet of metal.

****************************************

Cal Kestis can't sleep. Like most Jedi, he can't actually read the thoughts of others, but his connection to the Force allows him to feel the emotions and state of mind of those around him.

Over the past few months, the Jedi has noticed your feelings for him blossoming into something more than friendship, mirroring the growth of his own affections for you.

But tonight, Cal can sense that something in your emotional frequency has changed. Evolved. A clarity, a new and vigorous and glorious certainty in your desire for him radiates incandescent through the Force. It's like the smouldering embers of a fire have ignited into a ferocious blaze.

As the feeling permeates through the thin sheet-metal wall dividing you, the intensity of it, the heat of it, drives him crazy. He wants to rip through the flimsy partition separating you and give you everything you want from him and more. His whole body is aflame with almost painful arousal and he is aching to bring himself release.

Cal resists, teetering on the very edge of giving himself over to his desire. Is this voyeuristic? Is he trespassing? Crossing some unspoken line? Should he be trying to block you out? He doesn't know.

The Jedi hisses through his teeth in frustration. Reluctantly, he rolls out of bed and, sinking to his knees on the floor, surrenders himself to the Force in search of whatever temporary solace he can find in meditation.

Even as he does so, he knows that the only real relief he'll be able to get now is if he can find it with you.

***************************************

The crew of the Mantis are taking some time to rest after a run of particularly eventful jobs. You've landed on the quiet world of Brax at the edge of the Mid Rim. It's a beautiful, lush planet adorned with meadows of wildflowers, glassy lakes and sprawling coniferous forests.

Everyone is making the most of their down time.

Gabs and Bravo have gone off for a hike in the nearby woods.

BD-1 is having a well earned oil bath on the Mantis.

The twins are snoozing in the meadow amongst the flowers. When you'd crept past them earlier, you'd smiled fondly - the peaceful serenity on their faces was such an odd juxtaposition to their usual chaotic enthusiasm for life.

Having successfully sneaked past Lizz and Koob without waking them, you are now sitting atop a large slab of rock which juts up and out of the meadow. You alternate between admiring the view of the lake and cleaning your blaster.

It is a warm day, but a gentle cooling breeze keeps the heat at bay. A gust suddenly whips up the heady, sweet smell of wildflowers all around you. For some reason the scent triggers something inside you, your heart suddenly full to bursting with a strange concoction of melancholy and joy.

To think that all this beauty, all this Galaxy was just out here, waiting, your whole life. And if you'd never met Cal, you might still be crawling through filthy ventilation shafts smelling of metal and damp and darkness just to get by on Coruscant.

You are just about ready to reassemble your weapon when you look up from your task towards where the Jedi is meditating with his back to you. He's kneeling a few meters in front of you on the sandy shore by the still water. You always think it's strange how he chooses to sit on his knees, rather than cross-legged. It looks uncomfortable to you, but he seems to be able to sit like that for anywhere up to an hour. Maybe you'll ask him about it one day.

Cal is shirtless. Even from here, you can see the freckles littered like celestial constellations across his strong back and down his broad shoulders and muscled arms. You take the opportunity to admire the outlines and angles of his taut, athletic body.

You start as the Jedi begins to stand. You'd rather not get caught staring at him quite so openly and you quickly shift your gaze back to your blaster which is still in its various component parts.

Cal turns and advances towards you up the beach and onto the grassy meadow. You pretend not to have noticed him at all, but you keep catching glimpses of him in your peripheral vision. He walks a few paces, then stops and looks around as if he's searching for something on the ground. Then he crouches down. He does this several times.

What is he up to?

"Hey," Cal says casually as he finally wanders over to you.

He has to crane his neck to speak to you, perched as you are on top of your rock, and use a hand to shield his eyes from the sun. He's hiding something behind his back you realise.

"Oh, hey," you reply, as if you're surprised to see him there.

He pulls his hand from behind his back and reaches up to you. In his grasp is a bunch of wildflowers, beautiful pastel blues and pinks and purples.

You exclaim softly in surprise, a rather giddy sound that makes Cal beam up at you. As you take the blooms from him, his fingertips, calloused and tough from years of wielding a weapon in combat, brush gently against your hand. Even that small touch feels like a spark of electricity arching between you.

"See you at dinner," he says, and he's clearly pleased with himself as he retreats towards the Mantis, head held high, a jaunt in his step.

As you twist in your seated position to watch him disappear into the ship, you realise you were so enchanted by the gesture that you forgot to say thank you.

That's the thing about Cal Kestis. He's completely disarming. He has a rare, effortless charisma and an easy, flirtatious way about him that is somehow both sweet and suave at the same time. Few men you've met have ever managed to render you so flustered.

You look down at the delicate blooms in your hand and bring them to your nose, inhaling their fresh scent. Smiling to yourself, you shake loose the functional way you usually wear your hair to keep it out of your face and retie it, carefully weaving the wildflowers that Cal has picked for you through your locks.

When you come in for dinner - Bravo's turn to cook - Cal is already sitting at the kitchen table. He looks up and inclines his head to the side as he takes you in, his eyes widening. You blush furiously to see the genuine pleasure at the sight of you and your decorated hair written so openly on his face.

Amid the usual convivial hubbub and chaos of dinner in the Mantis' kitchen, you and Cal steal glances at each other across the table.

**********************************************

That evening, the moon is low and yellow in Brax's dark sky, hanging like a ball of golden light above the lake. You have an hour or so before you all depart for a rendezvous with a contact on Naboo. It's the twins' turn to do pre-flight checks and you find yourself on the shores of the water, skimming stones with Cal to kill time.

Before joining the crew of the Mantis you'd never skimmed a stone in your life. Not many places to do that on Coruscant. But Gabs in particular is an ace at it and she's taught you well.

Cal spots a likely candidate for his next projectile and he brings it flying casually into his hand using his Jedi abilities.

"What does it feel like like?" You ask, suddenly.

Cal smiles at you, seemingly understanding that you are talking about the Force. He hesitates for a second, looking down at the stone in his open palm. Then he places it back on the ground in an obvious position, nestled in the sand a few feet in front of you, and moves round to stand behind you.

He's so close you can feel his heart beating against his chest. Instinctively, you lean back into him, enjoying the safe feeling that his nearness gives you, and the warmth of his body against yours in the chill night air.

"It's time for instruction," he says softly.

He's said that phrase before when he's showing anyone how to do something new. You've come to understand that it's a fond impression of his late Master's dignified voice - a touching habit you've always thought.

Tonight it sounds different. His tone is light and teasing, but the smirk you can hear as he speaks makes the words sound almost seductive in a way that causes something to flip then tighten in the pit of your abdomen.

"Hold out your hand."

You extend your right arm, holding your palm outwards as you've seen Cal do many times. He places his own palm against the back of your hand and interlocks his fingers with yours.

His other hand comes to rest at your waist, pulling you ever so slightly closer into him. He doesn't need to put it there and you both know it. Nor does he need to rest his chin on your left shoulder, so close to your cheek that his stubble almost tickles your skin.

Yet you can tell that you are both revelling in this rare, private opportunity for proximity between the two of you, and it is as thrilling as it is maddening.

"Focus. Breathe."

You realise you've been holding your breath. You feel Cal's chest rising and falling against your back and you match your own breathing in time with his. You can't help but notice it's at a slightly elevated pace.

"See the stone in your hand."

You nod and exhale, your eyes boring into the rock as if you really are going to levitate it yourself. You try and fail to stifle a sudden giggle at the ridiculousness of such an idea.

"Concentrate," Cal scolds quietly in your ear but you can hear the smile in his voice as the hand round your waist tightens its grip ever so slightly.

"I am," you mutter, but it's only half true.

You wonder if it's just your imagination, but in the seconds that follow, you think you can feel an deep, vibration flowing through Cal and passing through his body and into yours, binding your lifeforces together.

The rock flies so suddenly into your palm that you jump. You just about remember to close your fingers around the stone's cool, smooth surface as you shout out in surprise and delight. Cal lets out a good-natured laugh at your reaction and you glow as it rumbles through his whole body and yours.

You've just made up your mind to twist around in his arms kiss him when BD-1 comes running through the grass at great speed on his little legs, beeping and chirping urgently.

"Ok buddy, ok, we're coming," Cal says kindly to the little droid, but you can hear the exasperation at the untimely interruption in his voice.

*******************************************

Course set, the Mantis is travelling at lightspeed and, nestled safely in the cradle of the hyperlane, you will probably make it to Naboo in about six hours.

You suspect the rest of the crew are all sleeping soundly. The Mantis takes care of herself for the most part when travelling through hyperspace. With the life you lead, the importance of catching rest when you can cannot be underestimated.

You, however, cannot sleep. Thoughts of Cal and your interrupted moment by the lake race through your mind. The wildflowers he gave you are still in your hair and every so often you catch the ghost of their aroma, reminding you of your almost idyllic day on Brax.

You sigh and drag yourself out of bed, deciding to go and sit in the empty cockpit of the Mantis for a while and watch the stars race by as you hurtle through the hyperlane. Although it should really be frightening, you love to watch great swathes of the Galaxy disappear in a flash before your eyes as the Mantis catapults through space. It's a novel experience for you still - being off Coruscant, light speed travel, new worlds.

You wave your hand over the control and the door to your room hisses open. You jump to see a figure already standing there in the corridor. With a jolt of excitement, and with a strange feeling that you've summoned him somehow, you realise that it's Cal.

"Uh, hi.."

You don't let him get more than two words into his sentence. You grab him roughly by the front of his loose night shirt - which is slung low, revealing tufts of ginger hair on his chest and the elegant lines of his collarbone - and pull him into a deep kiss.

Not breaking away from your lips, and hardly hesitating, he picks you with almost alarming ease. You wrap your legs around his waist and curl your fingers in his red hair as he carries you back into your quarters. He places you up onto your workbench situated against the opposite wall as the door slides closed behind you.

"You look so pretty with those flowers in your hair," he mumbles into your neck you shiver with pleasure as his mouth brushes against your skin as he talks.

"Yes, it's a shame you're about to make such a mess of me," you whisper into his ear.

He pulls back to stare at you for a moment, green eyes wide as if dumbfounded by your forwardness. His delighted, slack-jawed expression forces a loud giggle from deep within you.

"Shhh," Cal warns emphatically, keenly aware of the proximity of the rest of the crew and how thin the walls of the Mantis are. He presses a kiss to your mouth in an attempt to silence your outburst, but you can feel his body shake with his own barely contained laughter as he grins against your lips.

Once your stifled mirth subsides, you hastily start to undress each other. You barely have time to appreciate the now naked, muscular form of the Jedi before you, when, in his enthusiasm to remove it, Cal accidentally rips your flimsy night dress away from your body. As it comes apart in his hands, the fabric makes a loud tearing sound, louder even perhaps than that of your previous bouts of laughter. You both freeze, as if anticipating someone will burst through the door and catch you in this compromising position, before dissolving into poorly restrained giggles again.

As he drinks in the sight of your body, Cal's expression changes into something primal. His brows knit together as if he is trying to understand how you could possibly be sitting in front of him like this. Then, his pupils dilate and his nostrils flare before he crashes his mouth back down on to yours into a deliciously rough kiss.

You don't move from your position on your workbench, and you coil your legs around Cal as tight as you can as he starts to move in you. The pace is urgent. You don't mind. There'll be opportunities for languid and gentle love-making in the future. Right now, this is a matter of need for both of you. The cord of tension that has been tightening between you for months finally snapping in a glorious, frenzied, explosion of mutual lust.

As his pace increases and his movements start to become uncoordinated, Cal moves a hand down between your bodies, splaying his palm against you, and settling the pad of his thumb between your legs at the very place you most need it to be.

At this, your hand which was tangled in his flaming hair flies down to join the other at his back and he growls as you claw your fingers in to his flesh between his shoulder blades.

You press your lips hard into his shoulder to muffle your cries as you approach your peak and then, suddenly, you are crashing over the edge and seeing stars. You gasp out his name, over and over, open mouthed and breathy against his ear.

This, combined with the sensation of your body in rapture, sends Cal hurtling towards his own oblivion. You cling to him while the great, strong muscles all over his body tense and release, and he lets out a long, shuddering groan into your neck that is almost a whimper.

The sight of him, the sound of him falling apart in front of you is beautiful.

Once you've both caught your breath, Cal lifts you gently off the table, and carries you to your tiny, single cot bed. You manage to position yourselves fairly comfortably in the snug space by lying on your sides. The Jedi has one arm laced underneath you with the other slung over your waist, hand resting on your stomach and holding you close to his warm chest.

As you are lulled almost into a doze by the sound and feel of his slow and steady heartbeat, you take in the rather sorry sight of the flowers which once bejewelled your hair, now scattered in ruin across the functional durasteel floor.

"I told you those flowers wouldn't last," you muse drowsily.

Propping himself up on one elbow, Cal removes his hand from your waist and reaches out his arm, palm splayed open. A blue bell flower, stem and petals astonishingly still intact- a brave survivor of the onslaught of urgent hands through your hair - floats lazily up from the floor and towards you on the bed.

Cal plucks it out of the air and gently weaves the bloom into your locks just above your ear. Then, he kisses you gently on the cheek and then on your shoulder, his beard tickling your skin, before sinking back down on to his side and resuming his previous position curled comfortingly around you.

For some reason, despite the eroticism of what you've just done together, this sweet gesture makes you flush disproportionately and you feel your cheeks turning pink.

You're starting to realise, perhaps hope, that the heady feeling of being slightly flustered in Cal Kestis' proximity might never go away.

[deliciousangelfestival]

Every Time You Lie - Ch 4 || Lloyd Hansen

Character: dark!Lloyd Hansen x female!reader, dark!Husband Lloyd Hansen x Wife!reader.

Synopsis: Any woman is jealous of you, especially with the status of being the wife of Lloyd Hansen—the CEO of the biggest pharmacy company in the country. From the outside, everyone sees you as a perfect family, a successful husband, two kids, and living in a big house. 

But the truth is different. You are trapped in this marriage because of the mistake you made. You are willing to give everything you have to get your freedom. Free from him. Free from your vicious mother-in-law. Free from your snobby son.

Both of them shouldn’t be together.

Warning: Betrayal, suicidal thought, harsh language, tragedy. Minors do not read. 18+

Author Note: I do not consent to copying or translating my work.

Words Count: 3,551 

Any reblog, comment, and feedback are appreciated. I want to know what you guys think.

Series Masterlist || Chapter 1, Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6,-

Main Masterlist || buy me Ko-fi 🥹💓

Determined to find the missing pieces of your life, you were resolute about leaving the hospital. Despite the doctors' recommendations for more rest, you insisted on speeding up your discharge. Every moment spent confined in the hospital felt like precious time wasted.

Lloyd, your supposed husband, supported your decision. Yet, his concern seemed to stem more from his internal battles rather than genuine care for your well-being. His gaze held a mix of anxiety and something you couldn't quite place, making you feel increasingly unsettled.

Your skepticism towards Lloyd deepened as you struggled to recognize the man presented as your husband. Your instincts pushed you to seek understanding from the one person you felt could trust—your daughter, Emily.

Alone in your room, Emily seized a fleeting moment when the vigilant bodyguard left, feigning concern by pretending to place a bandage on your chest. As soon as both of you were alone, a sense of urgency lit up in Emily's eyes.

"Mother, I don't have much time, but you need to know the truth about our household," Emily whispered urgently. "Father holds the ultimate authority in our household. His decisions shape everything. Mother always adheres to what he says. If he rejects something, it's final. And if he approves, it's unquestionable. Just hold on, Mother. I'll figure out a way to help you escape from here."

You felt a mix of emotions—confusion, suspicion, and a profound need for the truth. Your reliance on Emily as the only familiar and trustworthy figure in this puzzle of your life intensified.

In that fleeting exchange, you realized the grip Lloyd held over the household, and the sense of constraint around your existence magnified. It felt like being caged in a life you didn’t recognize, enforced by rules you hadn't consented to. The resolve to break free and uncover the reality surged within you.

Suddenly, the heavy air in the room shifted as Lloyd entered. His mere presence seemed to suffocate the space, casting a shadow that loomed over everything. Emily's demeanor, despite being related by blood, reflected a facade of grief in the face of his entrance.

Lloyd's countenance softened, adopting a concerned expression as he addressed you. "How are you feeling, my dear?" His voice held a blend of tenderness and concealed apprehension, creating an unsettling aura that made you instinctively retreat.

Your mind churned with questions, doubts, and an instinctive distrust toward this man you were told was your husband. The sense of entrapment in his presence only heightened the urgency to unravel the truth behind the facade of this life you were expected to accept.

You forced a strained smile "I'm alright, thank you, Lloyd."

His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary, then he turned to Emily. "It's late. You should rest. We'll have a lot to take care of tomorrow."

You watched as Emily nodded obediently, her eyes briefly meeting her mother's, a silent reassurance amidst the hidden distress. With a swift, worried glance at you, Emily left the room.

Alone with Lloyd, the unease in the room felt palpable. You attempted to compose yourself, yet the air crackled with tension, making it increasingly challenging to suppress your growing sense of skepticism and fear.

Your mind raced with questions, doubts, and the feeling that you were entangled in a web of secrets and lies. As you observed Lloyd's careful demeanor, you vowed to find the truth, to unearth the reality buried beneath this carefully constructed mirage.

Lloyd, enveloping you in a gentle embrace, held you as if trying to bridge the gap of lost time. His touch conveyed a genuine longing, a yearning for your presence that was difficult to fake. "I've missed you so much, Y/N," he murmured, his voice tinged with a blend of relief and genuine affection. "I'm overjoyed to see you standing again, to witness your recovery. You've made remarkable progress."

Caught in the duality of her own confusion and the necessity to comply, reciprocated the embrace, your mind wrestling with the incongruity of emotions. You masked your skepticism behind a facsimile of reciprocated affection, knowing you had to tread cautiously within this enigmatic household.

Lloyd, as he held you, felt a surge of relief coursing through him. He was elated to see you regaining strength, standing on your feet again. It was a moment he had anxiously awaited, a glimmer of hope in the maze of uncertainties. His joy at your recovery was genuine, yet it was intertwined with the dread of potentially losing the delicate balance he had tried to maintain.

"I've been so worried about you," he admitted, his voice filled with a mix of tenderness and guarded anxiety. "Seeing you on your feet again—it's a great relief, Y/N. I want nothing more than for you to recover fully, to reclaim the life we've shared."

"Thank you, Lloyd," you softly uttered, her words carrying a hint of solace, enough to offer a glimmer of comfort to the man who seemed to miss you dearly.

Your response carefully measured a balance between your quest for truth and the facade you needed to maintain for the time being, even though your heart yearned for answers hidden within the veils of your forgotten memories.

The car ride back to the Hansen residence was a silent journey. You seated beside Lloyd, gazed out the window at the passing buildings and streets, your eyes filled with a mix of awe and bewilderment. The city looked so different—modern and advanced, a stark contrast to any image you had in her mind. Everything seemed unfamiliar, yet subtly intriguing.

As they arrived at their home, your eyes widened at the grandeur of the mansion. The scale and opulence of the building were truly impressive. However, the facade felt imposing, creating a sense of discomfort within you, an inexplicable feeling that it was all too much.

Stepping into the vast halls of the Hansen mansion, you felt overwhelmed by the extravagance. The grandeur seemed excessive, almost suffocating, as if the walls echoed with the weight of secrets and the burden of a life you didn’t remember living.

Lloyd guided you through the corridors, every step magnifying your unease. The walls were adorned with art, the furniture spoke of luxury, and the air was scented with an air of richness that contrasted starkly with your sense of displacement.

The residence that was supposed to be your home felt foreign, like a stage set for a life you have yet to comprehend. The enormity of the mansion felt less like a sanctuary and more like a labyrinth of hidden truths and unanswered questions.

Stepping into the grand master bedroom, you felt a shiver of trepidation down her spine. The room exuded luxury, adorned with lavish furnishings and an ambiance that spoke of comfort and wealth. Yet, you couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that this was a space belonging to a stranger, not you.

Lloyd observed your hesitation, his own expression filled with a mix of concern and an underlying apprehension. Sensing your unease, he approached you with a gentle demeanor, trying to mask the weight of his own hidden worries.

"Dear, I know this is all overwhelming. But the doctor recommended that we stay together like we used to. He believes it might help trigger your memory to return," Lloyd explained, his voice tinged with an urgency that mirrored his desperate hope for your recovery.

You're still unused to every time he calls you 'dear.' Your heart fluttered uncertainly, caught between your natural wariness and the doctor's suggestion. The thought of blending into a life you couldn't recall felt suffocating, but you realized the urgency of your situation.

Torn between your instincts and the doctor's recommendation, you nodded, a hesitant agreement borne more out of necessity than genuine comfort. In this unfamiliar space that was supposedly your sanctuary, you found yourself straining to navigate the delicate balance between compliance and your quest for truth.

Lloyd led you into the clothing room, which he claimed to be your favorite. The room was adorned with an assortment of elegant dresses, shoes, and accessories that radiated opulence and sophistication. He watched you with hopeful eyes, waiting for a sign of recognition or approval.

"This is your favorite place, dear," he said, his voice carrying a note of anticipation.

You scanned the room, your heart fluttering with a sense of disconnect. The elegant gowns, the neatly arranged shoes, and the luxurious accessories felt like remnants of a life you couldn't quite recall. The items bore an air of sophistication that seemed at odds with her own sense of style and taste.

For a moment, a fleeting sense of discomfort washed over you. These weren't the clothes you would have chosen for herself. Your style and your preferences were nowhere to be found among the opulent collection. But understanding the situation's fragility, you fought back the instinct to express your discomfort. You masked your true feelings behind a composed facade, not wanting to upset Lloyd, who seemed genuinely trying to help you reconnect with her lost memories.

"Thank you, Lloyd," you replied with a measured smile, careful not to reveal your inner turmoil. As you stood amidst the lavish collection, you realized that, for the time being, you had to navigate this world, gently treading the line between complying and searching for the truths hidden within your forgotten memories.

As you perused Lloyd's wardrobe, your attention was drawn to a unique perfume bottle sitting among the array of exquisitely crafted colognes. The bottle's design stood out, and Lloyd's discerning gaze caught her inquisitive stare.

With a faint smile, Lloyd leaned in, his eyes reflecting a hint of pride. "I customize all my perfumes. Each one is unique, crafted to match specific moments or memories."

You nodded, acknowledging his explanation, and continued to scan the bottles. Among them, one bottle captured her attention. Its scent carried an inexplicable familiarity, triggering a jolt in her memory. Curious and inexplicably drawn, you picked up the bottle and uncapped it, the scent wafting gently to your nose.

However, as the fragrance reached your senses, a sudden and piercing headache tore through your mind, almost causing you to collapse. Before you could fall, Lloyd swiftly caught you, his arms providing a secure and steadying embrace.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Lloyd's voice carried genuine concern, his arms ensuring your stability.

Struggling to regain your balance, you fought the throbbing headache and the unsettling dizziness that the fragrance had brought. Despite the agony, a faint memory flickered at the edges of your consciousness, a memory so close yet shrouded in the haze of amnesia.

Barely composing herself, you managed a weak nod. "I-I'm fine, just a sudden headache," you murmured. The scent lingered in the room, its familiarity stirring a faint glimmer of memory just beyond your reach, leaving you in a whirlwind of confusion and questions that seemed to have no answers.

Seating you on the bed, Lloyd observed you closely, his concern palpable. The perfume bottle, a relic from his past, lay on the dresser, its scent triggering an unexpected turmoil in you. At that moment, his own thoughts turned somber, clouded by the weight of his own past mistakes.

Lloyd's gaze lingered on the bottle, the same perfume connected to his most significant mistake involving Zoey. A wave of regret and apprehension washed over him, realizing the potential impact this fragrance could have on your fragile state.

His resolve solidified, knowing he needed to eliminate any reminders of his past transgressions, especially one that had the power to distress you. The decision to remove the perfume became more than just safeguarding you; it was about erasing a connection to his own grave errors, ones that threatened the delicate balance of the life he was desperately trying to rebuild.

With a determined yet pained expression, Lloyd silently vowed to get rid of the perfume. His biggest mistake, a wound from the past, seemed to have resurfaced, and he couldn't risk the distress it might cause you. Resolutely, he made plans to dispose of it discreetly as a means of protecting you and shielding you from the repercussions of his own regretful history.

As Lloyd ensured you was resting, he quietly slipped out of the room. In the hallways, his steps slowed as a cold shiver ran down his spine, heralding the arrival of his mother, Krystal. Her aura was as intimidating as ever, emanating an air of authority and unyielding dominance.

"Lloyd," Krystal's voice sliced through the silence, her tone stern and unwavering.

Lloyd turned to face her, steeling himself for what he anticipated would be a confrontation. "Mother," he acknowledged, his voice laden with a mix of caution and respect.

Krystal's eyes pierced through him, cold and calculating. "A daughter-in-law with amnesia is akin to having a dementia patient in our family. It brings disgrace to the Hansen name," she declared, her words cutting deep with a disdainful tone.

Krystal's disdainful words pierced Lloyd's facade, igniting a fire within him. The insult towards you, spoken so callously, shattered the thin veil of diplomacy he had attempted to maintain.

Lloyd's fervent tone shifted as he confronted his mother, the intensity in his voice resonating with a blend of regret, urgency, and an undercurrent of anger.

"Mother, don't you dare speak ill of my wife!" Lloyd's voice quivered with a mix of disappointment and a newfound determination.

Krystal, surprised by the change in her son's demeanor, observed the turmoil within him. The bond between them had been strained after the car accident caused by Lionel, a turning point that shifted the family dynamics.

"Lionel's recklessness nearly took my wife from me!!! I won't allow her to slip away again, especially not because of you or anyone in this family," Lloyd expressed firmly, the weight of responsibility for your safety etched into his every word.

"Looking down on Y/N? If you continue your disrespect towards my wife, I'll erase you from this world without hesitation," his words cut through the air like a blade, carrying a severity that shocked even himself. The rawness of his anger unveiled a side of him his mother rarely witnessed.

The tension in the room thickened, marking a moment that showcased the transformation in the family dynamic after Lionel's mistake, emphasizing Lloyd's resolute stance to protect you, no matter the source of the threat.

Lloyd's sudden outburst left Krystal utterly speechless. Her usual poised demeanor shattered as she stood frozen, aghast at her son's uncharacteristic and forceful words.

Her mouth agape, Krystal struggled to find her voice. "Lloyd..." she stammered her tone a mix of astonishment and disbelief. The sheer audacity of her son's manner had left her momentarily stunned, unable to comprehend how he could speak to her in such a manner.

As the tense confrontation unfolded between Lloyd and Krystal, unbeknownst to them, Lionel had just returned from school. Hearing their conversation from the hallway, his heart sank, realizing the weight of his actions and their impact on his mother, Y/N.

*******

Frozen in the corridor, Lionel stood in disbelief, absorbing the severity of his mistake and the weight of his father's words. His recklessness had nearly cost his mother's life, and he was now witness to the turmoil it had caused within the family.

As Lionel retreated to his room, the weight of his emotions bore heavily upon him. His heart ached with the burden of his mother's absence—the void left by her amnesia that denied her the memories they once shared.

Tears streamed down Lionel's face as he sat in solitude. His gentle and loving mother, now lost to the turmoil of amnesia, was a painful reality he struggled to accept. Memories of her warmth, the moments they shared, and the comfort of her embrace flooded his mind, deepening the ache in his heart.

But how could he ask that? Before you got amnesia, he wasn't a good son; he never listened to you, and he always abused your kindness to get what he wanted since he knew you could never get mad at him.

In the silence of his room, Lionel's quiet sobs echoed the profound longing to hold her once more, to seek solace in her comforting embrace.

"I miss you, mom... Hikss... I'm so sorry. Please remember me."

He wished for the return of the gentle and affectionate moments they had shared, now lost in the fragments of her forgotten memories. The weight of his own actions that led to this situation bore down upon him, and he wept for the absence of the mother he dearly missed.

Krystal's incident on the first floor resulted in a situation where her leg strength was at risk due to an unforeseen mishap involving her son. During the commotion, her secretary, Zoey, rushed to her aid. When Lloyd encountered Zoey assisting Krystal, a moment of tense silence enveloped the room.

As he observed the scene, Lloyd was deeply affected by the presence of Zoey, his secretary and a figure from a past he wished to leave behind. At that moment, a silent yet weighty realization struck him – the emergence of Zoey, a reminder of past mistakes and the complications that followed, leading to strain in his relationship with you.

As Lloyd encountered Zoey tending to Krystal, he was slightly surprised to see her in front of him. Since you had fallen into a coma, Zoey had seemingly vanished from their lives. Her reappearance at a critical moment, just as you returned home with amnesia, raised questions in Lloyd's mind.

The unexpected reappearance of Zoey, your sudden amnesia, and Zoey's presence at a crucial juncture triggered a series of perplexing thoughts in Lloyd's mind. Who was this woman, and what was her sudden reappearance after your return? The timing seemed more than coincidental, and it sparked a nagging sense of suspicion and doubt within him.

As Lloyd entered his bedroom, he observed you peacefully sleeping on their bed, no longer reliant on the supporting machines—a sight that seemed almost miraculous to him. Gratitude swelled within him, knowing you were alive and resting in the comfort of their home.

Carefully changing into more comfortable clothes, Lloyd approached the bed. Gently, he slid under the covers, mindful not to disturb you. With a heart full of gratitude for her presence, he wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her close, cherishing the moment. Placing his chin on your shoulder, he held her gently, feeling relieved that you were safe and by his side once more.

In the stillness of the moment, as he held you close, Lloyd silently prayed for you to regain your lost memories. He yearned for you to remember the life they had built together, the moments they had shared, and the connection they once had. He hoped for the return of the woman he cherished, hoping that you might once again become the loving and devoted wife you had always been.

After Zoey assisted Krystal back to their residence, she discreetly excused herself and made her way outside. Pulling out her phone, she dialed a number and waited as it rang.

"She's home," Zoey stated before ending the call. A mysterious smirk played upon her lips, hinting at a concealed plan or hidden motive. Her expression bore an enigmatic assurance, suggesting that more was at play beneath the surface.

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Any reblog, comment, and feedback are appreciated. I want to know what you guys think.

Series Masterlist || Chapter 1, Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6 , -

Main Masterlist || support me: Ko-fi 🥹💓

[our-blood-is-our-ink]

if your still doing the prompt thing how about 17, 23, 25, 29 with power!bottom claire being stressed and intern!reader offering to help but don't have any sexual experience so claire teaches them

Thank you so much for sending this in! I'm so sorry it took so long to complete, life got very hectic, but I have it for you now! I hope I've done this request justice <3

Afterhours

Ship: Claire Debella x Reader

Summary: When you, an intern working at the governor's office, offer to stay with the governor while she works late into the night, you find yourself in a situation you have only ever fantasized of.

Word Count: 5.8k

Disclaimer: 18+ ONLY, minors dni

Warnings: smut, hints at dark!Claire, pet-names, praise kink, degradation kink, fingering, oral, first time, virgin reader, legal age gap, power imbalance, mommy kink, begging, implied subspace

It's an open secret at the office that Governor Debella is paranoid.

If the extreme vetting process to just simply become an intern is anything to go by, the woman could use some relaxation time.

After all, a single intern hardly would have the ability to take down the political powerhouse that Governor Debella is.

Or, that's what you think anyhow.

You knew you had been lucky to land the job, the experience and credentials that will pad up your resume and qualifications that will come from working here, but some days, all you can think about is how stressed the top boss constantly is.

Being a people pleaser, being a people fixer, you started to stay late, wanting to get as much work done as possible.

Sure, you're only a low level entry personnel, but what you do helps free up time for those above you to focus on more important things.

After a few weeks of being the last one in the office, Governor Debella notices.

“Don't you have someone to get home to? A boyfriend, or a pet, or something?”

You nearly topple back in your seat, startled by your boss’s boss’s boss’s boss (seriously there's a chain of command here, and you're merely a bottom feeder) not having heard her approach from behind.

“Governor!” You gasp, trying to recover. “Uh- I don't- I live with a few roommates, but they never care if I'm there or not. We're all very busy.”

Governor Debella frowns, and crosses her arms.

“There's no reason for you to be staying so late. You're an intern. You don't get paid overtime.”

You shrug.

“I don't have much else to do. Call it volunteer hours.”

(And god, doesn't that sound pathetic, especially because it's true.)

Her frown deepens.

“It's illegal for you to stay and work without pay.”

“Are you telling me I need to start going home at quitting time?”

The words spill from your mouth before you can think them through.

There's a moment of silence, and for a second you could swear it's hesitation on Governor Debella’s face.

“No.” She says, after a beat too long.

There's another, much longer silence.

You hate the quiet, and you find yourself breaking it.

“Then, er, what do you want me to do?”

Governor Debella blinks, and it draws your attention to the dark bags underneath her tired silvery-blue eyes, her makeup must having had rubbed off enough for it to begin to show.

You suddenly realize that perhaps it's just as exhausting for her as it is for everyone else to deal with her stress and paranoia.

“Would you like some company while you work?” You offer, a gentleness in your tone that you hadn't made the decision to speak with. “I could clock out and then just… Sit in your office with you if you'd like. I know how empty the building feels when everyone has left.”

This time, you know you haven't imagined her hesitation.

“I'm under contract, anyhow, Governor. If there's an additional paper you need me to sign, for security reasons, well.” You shrug. “What's one more?”

Again, there's silence, and then…

“Call me Claire, if you're really willing to sit and do nothing for hours besides for staring at my office walls.”

You're a bit shocked she's accepted your offer, and you stumble over your response.

“I- oh. Uh… Okay, um. Claire.”

The governor’s lips twitch, as if she's hiding a smile.

“But not tonight. I was just about to head out, which means you definitely should too. Security won't stick around once I leave, and the night shift…” Claire scowls. “I need to remember to get them replaced.”

It's the most you've ever heard her talk without snapping at someone to do something, let alone to you.

“Isn't that what your assistant is for? To remind you or to arrange that on your behalf?”

“That's only if I remember to tell him.” Claire mutters, before shaking her head. “Shut your computer down, you're not staying if I'm not in the building.”

She waits, hovering over your shoulder as you listen, and she walks with you out to the front of the building.

“You didn't park in the lot?” She asks, when you start to head towards home.

You can feel your face flush.

“I uh… I don't exactly get paid enough to own a car.” You refuse to look at the older woman. “Usually I just walk back.”

“It's two in the morning.” Claire sounds incredulous.

“I have pepper spray.”

“No. You're not walking home anymore.”

Claire has her arms crossed again, and an all too familiar glare is being leveled at you.

Before now, you always thought it was an angry expression.

You're beginning to wonder if maybe it's a stubborn one instead.

You sigh.

“Well short of driving me home yoursel-”

“That's exactly what I'm going to do.”

You barely manage to keep your jaw from dropping as Claire turns, clearly expecting you to follow her.

You suppose if you don't, you won't get too far before she can find you walking.

Or if not, possibly fire you over it tomorrow.

You push down your anxiety.

Don't worse case scenario. You scold yourself.

Claire drives a nondescript silver minivan.

“I have custody every other month.” She explains your unanswered question.

Ah, right.

Sometimes you forget that Claire just recently went through divorce, that she has two little ones to care for.

You remember how the media had dug it all up, how they aired her very private life for the public.

For a minivan, it's pretty nice.

When Claire turns on the car, a few loud notes play, before she quickly slams her palm against the knob that turns the car music on and off.

You raise an eyebrow, but don't say anything about it.

Instead you ask, “how are they?”

“My kids?”

She sounds mildly surprised as she reaches for her seatbelt.

“Yeah.”

You click yours in as she replies.

“They're… They're okay, all things considered.”

She puts the car in reverse, and you rattle off your address so she knows where she's headed.

Her nose wrinkles, and you're willing to bet it's because you don't live in a particularly nice area.

“You had to hire shadows- uh, bodyguards for them, right?”

Claire's hands clench the wheel, turning her knuckles white.

“I don't know of any other governor who's had their children's lives threatened.” She practically growls. “It scares them, but they won't say anything.”

“I'm sorry.” You murmur.

Claire glances at your pale face, and she takes a breath, forcing her body to relax.

“It's not your fault.” She shakes her head. “They're my kids. I'm their mother. I'm bound to be a bit overprotective.”

You choke back an unamused laugh.

“You would hope.”

Claire gives you a quick look, before returning her full attention to the road.

“What makes you say that?”

Oh crap, you didn't mean to invite Claire to dig into your life.

“Er… My parents… They weren't the best.” You mumble.

Claire frowns, eyes still looking forward.

“How old are you again?”

“Twenty-three.”

Claire hums.

“And how much are we paying you again?”

You rattle off the salary.

Claire hums again, and then there's silence for the rest of the short drive.

When she pulls up in front of your apartment, you say, “this is it.”

You undo your seatbelt and open the door, moving to leave.

“I'll have the paperwork ready for you on your desk by lunch.” Claire says.

At your confused look she huffs.

“For your extended night hours.”

Oh!

“Right, thank you. And thank you for the lift.”

Claire nods.

“If you don't have those papers past lunch break, hound my assistant. Don't take no for an answer, I might not remember to let Brian know to expect you to be a bother.”

The word bother echoes around your head, and you swallow down sudden anxiety.

“Sure thing. Good night, Governor-er- Claire.”

“Good night.” The other woman says, and you shut the passenger door firmly behind you as you sprint into your building.

—»•«—

You do have to bother her assistant the next day, and the stack of papers Claire presents you with is frankly ridiculous, but you pull out a notepad, read them through, and write bullet points of what you're agreeing to.

You sign, and initial, and date.

And then you binder clip it all together and drop it with a fairly solid thud onto Brian’s desk.

“Governor Debella will want these to be scanned and filed.” You say, even as an intern knowing the procedure for important documentation.

The man frowns at you.

“You're not done.” Brain says, and then seemingly out of nowhere, produces another stack of papers.

You groan, but your impatience quickly disappears as you stare at the sheet of paper, towards the end of the stack, that says how much of a raise you're receiving for signing on to be Claire’s personal intern.

Claire's personal intern.

$47,000

That was $15k more than what you had been making.

What the fuck.

You sign the papers, and don't say a word.

Slowly, as the day progresses, people trickle out, until you're the last one in the main office.

Brain looks at you as he leaves, and nearly walks into a wall trying to maintain his stare.

You head towards Claire's office and knock on her door.

“Come in.”

She sounds frazzled, and you realize you haven't seen her flying around the office today as you normally do.

“Everything alright?” You ask, taking note of Claire's disheveled state.

“No.” Is the simple answer you get, and you don't push as Claire continues to frantically scribble something out.

You glance around, familiarizing yourself with the private office you so rarely see the inside of, and take notice of a little seating area, with two arm chairs and a very comfortable looking couch.

In addition, there's what appears to be a bar cart, but it's filled with bottled water and sports drinks instead of alcohol, as well as a giant TV screen and what looks like a game console hooked up to it.

Somehow, you can't quite picture Claire playing video games while at work, and you have to wonder if perhaps she has ever been forced to watch one or both of her kids while working.

You don't want to become an annoyance, so instead of pacing the space, you choose to settle into one of the armchairs, curling up with one knee to your chest, the other dangling off the side of the chair.

You stare at the ceiling and let your mind wander as you examine the embedded ceiling lights.

“This is fucking bullshit.” Claire suddenly growls, and the sound of a pen clattering against the plastic wood of her desk sounds through the room.

“What is?” You ask.

Claire’s head jerks up, and for a moment, she looks surprised.

“You're so quiet.” She says. “I forgot you were here.”

You shrug, and don't say I’m good at that, I've had a lot of practice growing up.

You do say, “I didn't want to be a distraction.”

Claire hums.

She does that a lot, you realize.

“Well, maybe instead I can bounce this off of you.”

She gestures for you to come around to her side of the desk, and you quickly skim over what appears to be a proposal for a bill.

“Is it even legal for me to be doing this?” You ask.

Out of the corner of your eye you see Claire shrugging.

“You work for the government office this will be coming out from. It's not illegal, just out of the norm.”

You make a noise of understanding, going over the contents of it, frowning.

“What’s the problem with this?” You ask once you're finished giving the proposal a once-over.

Claire viciously stabs a single digit at some handwritten notes laying next to her keyboard.

“This section, this sentence, this paragraph, this fucking word is wrong, but the thesaurus is being useless-”

“Whoa, whoa.” You slow down what was sure to be Claire spiraling into more stress. “What's the most important thing to fix here?”

Claire blinks, pauses, frowns, then flips through her notes.

“Here.” She finally decides. “This entire section needs to be completely rewritten.”

You scroll to the right place on the computer screen and read it over more carefully.

“I'm pretty sure we can bullshit what you want to say here.” You murmur half to yourself. “It shouldn't be too difficult, most of the framework is here, it's just about closing the loopholes and rewording things to be less polarizing.”

“You make it sound so simple.” Claire grumps, leaning back in her chair and frowning as she crosses her arms.

You shrug.

“I bullshitted my fair share of essays, the difficult part to it is having a decent outline, which you already have.”

The other woman grumbles something under her breath before sitting up, shooing you away with a flick of her hand.

“Alright, well if it's that easy.” Her tone is disgruntled, but her fingers are already clacking against the keyboard, and you take that as your signal to return to the armchair you had been lazing about in.

At the end of the night, she drives you home again.

It becomes a routine.

For the next few months, Claire uses you as a sound board during the late hours, and you've taken to bringing either a book to read or an adult coloring book to do while you sit with her.

And then something big must have happened in her private life, because Claire is an absolute menace even to you one Monday, tearing through the office morale like a hot knife to butter.

You don't dare say a thing, even when she snaps at you later that night for being incompetent, and you just sit and take it.

She doesn't mean it personally.

You know that.

But by the time Thursday rolls around, her attitude hasn't changed, and you've found yourself retreating, becoming as small and invisible as possible in an attempt to spare yourself from Claire’s wrath.

You hear shuffling from where you're curled up on the couch, and you look up, and find Claire downing a shot, a bottle of amber liquid sitting on her desk.

“I know I've been an ass.” She says when she catches your eye.

“You've been stressed.” You excuse.

Claire shakes her head.

“There are better ways of releasing steam.”

“Well what do you usually do?”

You think this must be the first conversation all week that Claire is having civilly.

“Get high. Or have sex.”

Your mouth drops open at her blasé answer.

“And I haven't been able to do either.” She complains.

“Well, er. I could- I could help. If you wanted. To- um. To destress, I- I mean.”

You don't know why those words left your mouth, and the moment they do, you can feel your face heat up.

Sure, you've begun to have the occasional fantasy or wet dream about your boss, but that wasn't the same thing as implying you'd have sex with her.

HR is going to have a field day with you.

You're going to be fired.

You bury your face into your hands, and when Claire gently brushes her fingers against your back, you jump.

You hadn't heard her move.

“Look at me.” She softly says, and you shiver at how low her voice is pitched.

“There's a good girl.” She smiles as you listen, and the pulse of heat that shoots down your spine makes you feel dizzy.

Her hand comes up to cup your face, angling it upwards and forcing you to meet her eyes.

“Do you mean it, baby?” She asks, and you shiver at the pet-name, biting your lip as you grow more aroused. “You'll help mommy destress?”

Your eyes widen at the title Claire has bestowed upon herself, and you flush with embarrassment as the whine you've been fighting to keep down slips out through your mouth and escapes.

Your boss chuckles.

“Such a sweet thing. You had no idea what you were getting yourself into, offering to stay so late with me, did you?”

You frown, confused, despite your ever growing arousal.

“Wh-what do you mean?”

Claire smiles, but it's a sharp thing that causes gooseflesh to erupt along your arms.

“Please, doll. I've seen the way you look at me. And we both know how aware you are of how… Lonely, I have been.”

Her hand reaches out, and she brushes her knuckles gently against your cheek.

“Say yes.”

Her voice is pitched low, and it makes you shiver.

“Say yes to mommy, and I promise, you'll never have to worry about a thing again.”

Perhaps it should be your sign to leave right now, the possessiveness that practically drips from the governor's tone, but all it does is empty your head of thought.

“Yes.” You breathlessly say. “Yes, I'll help mommy destress.”

“Good girl.” She purrs, and when your lips part to allow a moan to tumble out, Claire gently presses against your tongue with two fingers.

When you stay still, frozen and unsure of what the older woman wants you to do, she furrows her brow and withdraws her fingers.

“Have you ever had sex before, honey?”

Immediately you can feel heat rise to your cheeks as you shake your head, shame rising in your throat.

“I- I'm a virgin.” You whisper, tripping over your words. “This is my first time…”

You trail off, embarrassed.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Claire coos, her eyes sparking with something that makes you feel a bit like her prey. “Budge over.” She says.

Mindlessly, you obey, scooting all the way down, and Claire settles back against the arm of the couch, and she lazily smiles at you as she slowly, tantalizingly spreads her legs.

You had no idea a suit skirt could stretch so much.

You had no idea how well it could hide the fact that Claire wasn't wearing any underwear either.

“Teach me how to make you feel good.” You're flooded by a sudden need to please this woman spread out before you, a sudden desire to watch her come undone because of you. “Show me how to touch you.” You beg. “Please.”

Claire chuckles deeply.

“You're going to be so perfect for me, baby.” She husks out, and you can feel how your pussy pulses, leaking wetness against the material of your underwear.

Unlike Claire, you're wearing a pair.

A niggling feeling of regret bothers you.

You wish you were easily accessible for your boss.

You want her to ruin you.

“Come here, honey.” Claire beckons you with a single finger, and you're obedient, crawling until you hover over her.

She reaches her hands up, and oh so gently cups your face with her hands, guiding your head downwards until your lips are just millimeters apart.

One of her thumbs softly brushes over your cheek, moving back and forth in a soothing sweeping motion, and her silvery-blue eyes gaze deep into your own.

The moment stretches, and you grow impatient of waiting, and despite your heart hammering against your ribcage, you close the miniscule gap between your lips and hers.

They're so fucking soft.

Claire isn't your first kiss by any means, but you deeply wish it were.

You're moaning into her mouth like you're a slut, and when Claire enters your own with her tongue, it's all you can do to keep yourself from falling atop of her as your limbs go weak.

Languidly, you make out with your boss, and as you do so, one of her knees makes its way between the apex of your thighs.

When you instinctively buck into the touch, Claire pulls away, and breathlessly laughs at you.

“Remember, doll. This is about mommy, not about you.”

Your head is spinning from the lack of oxygen.

You whimper, and bite your lip.

Her expression softens, and she reaches up to tuck an errant strand of hair behind your ear.

“Didn't mommy say that as long as you're with me, I'll see to all your needs? Make me feel good, and I promise, you'll get a reward, sweet thing.”

You drop your head against her shoulder, and the whine that escapes you causes Claire to reach up and stroke at your hair.

“Let me show you how to touch mommy, baby. Let me show you how she likes to be pleasured.”

It's not fair, you think. No one woman should have the right to say things like that in such a husky sounding voice.

Your pussy throbs.

You lift your head up, and shift your weight, settling back so that you're straddling Claire.

“Please mommy, teach me.” You beg, and the older woman groans at the plain desperation that drips from your tone. “Teach me how to make you scream for your baby.”

At the word ‘scream’, Claire's eyes light up, something that simultaneously sends a shiver of fear through your body, but also a shiver of anticipation.

“You want to make mommy scream, doll? Get off, and I'll show you how.”

Gracelessly you tumble off of Claire and onto the floor, and she shakes her head as she laughs.

“You’re adorable, sweetheart.”

She stands, and as she walks back to her desk, she strips, carelessly leaving her clothes crumbled on the floor.

As she settles back into her leather seat, she spreads her legs wide in a clear order.

Her gaze feels intense as she watches you wobble over to her, before you collapse, dropping to your knees, your legs unable to continue to support your weight.

Your head spins as the scent of Claire’s arousal overwhelms you, and you look up at your boss with wide, pleading eyes.

She chuckles, and her hand comes down to pet your hair, before they tangle and tug at you.

“M-mommy!” You protest. “I still don't know what to do!”

Claire groans, but she doesn't stop guiding you forward.

“You're smart, doll. I'm sure you can figure it out.”

You whimper, but don't protest further, and then the older woman's cunt is directly in your face, and you're powerless as you stick your tongue out hesitantly.

You give her a taste test.

The wetness that is slowly dripping from Claire is a bit salty, but mostly, it just tastes musky.

It isn't bad.

It's just… New.

You give Claire’s pussy a few more tiny little licks, trying to acclimate to her taste, and she tightens her hold on your hair.

“I thought you wanted to make mommy scream.” She bites out, yanking you flush against her pulsing center. “So do it. Mommy needs to relax, and you're going to help.”

Helplessly, you do as Claire commands, and you start lapping at her earnestly.

When she lets out an unrestrained moan above you, you can't help but moan in return, and Claire gasps.

She yanks your head back, her chest heaving slightly, pupils blown wide.

“I never thought you could make such sweet noises, baby.” She breathlessly says.

You feel heat rushing to your face, and Claire's free hand grips your chin when you try to look away.

“Neither did I.” You whisper, ashamed.

Claire tsks.

“None of that now, honey, mommy wants to hear you again. Moan for me.”

Your mouth drops open, and your mind goes blank as you try to process your boss’s demand.

Her grip tightens.

“I said moan for me, bitch.”

It tumbles involuntarily from your mouth, loud and uncontrolled, and Claire's grip on your chin turns painfully.

“Does that turn you on? For mommy to degrade you like the little fucking slut you are?”

The noise you make in response causes Claire’s eyes to glint as she smirks.

“Who knew beneath all that innocence was a whore.” She coos, before jerking your head forward in a clear demand.

You eat her out for what feels like ages, the taste of Claire filling your senses, and you grow progressively lightheaded.

You find your thoughts slipping away as you become utterly focused on not letting one drop of your boss’s wetness to escape your tongue, and you find your hands keeping her legs spread apart as you become more eager in your ministrations.

You feel drunk as Claire begins to make higher and higher pitched noises until finally, she goes so high, it's a shrill thing that your ears can barely withstand, and there's a wetness soaking your face that isn't from how vigorously you had been pleasuring her.

She hasn't told you to stop, though, and you find yourself not wanting to regardless, so you continue to lap at her until she harshly jerks your head away.

“Enough.” She pants, eyes closed, chest heaving. “Enough.”

Your head spins, and you feel dizzy as you stare, memorized by the woman above you.

You open your mouth, aware there's something you want to ask, but you can't seem to conjure enough words in your mind to even speak them aloud.

Silvery-blue eyes open, and the most self satisfied smirk you have ever seen curls at the edges of Claire’s lips.

“How precious.” She murmurs, before sticking her heeled foot out.

You hadn't noticed that despite shedding her clothes, the older woman had kept her shoewear on.

“Why don't you make yourself feel good, and put on a pretty show for mommy, hm?”

You slowly close your mouth, becoming aware it's been hanging open, and give your boss a confused look.

Claire sighs.

“That's right, you really don't have any experience. Could have fooled me, with how well you've made me cum, doll.”

You flush, uncertain if it's from the praise or from the degradation.

You watch as Claire carefully stands, and you're startled when she hisses, her left leg buckling from how loose and relaxed her muscles have become.

“Strip.” Claire orders, her knuckles white from how hard she's clutching at her desk. “And then lay back on the couch.”

You scramble, tugging your shirt off as you simultaneously attempt to undo the button of your pants, and you wind up tripping, falling to the floor.

Claire's laughter causes your face to heat up.

“Looks like my baby needs my help, hm?” She giggles, toeing off her heels so that she can walk properly.

You whine, and can feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes with embarrassment.

“Aw, sweetheart.” Claire pouts. “Mommy thinks you're cute for being so eager. No need to be so sad over it.”

You whine again, but slowly force yourself to sit up.

“Mommy.” You whimper. “Jus’ wanted to feel good.”

The older woman’s amused expression visibly softens, and warm hands reach for you.

You stand with Claire's help, and she almost reverently helps you undress, gently kissing each newly revealed piece of skin.

“Look at this beautiful body, honey. Just so perfect for me.”

Unable to bear the compliment, you choose instead to bury your head against the upper part of Claire's chest.

She coos, and runs her fingers through your hair.

“Oh, sweet thing. Is my baby feeling shy?”

You nod against her, noticing the soft smell of vanilla.

You've never noticed it before.

You had thought it was maybe the air refresher in Claire's office, but no.

It's her.

Your head spins.

And you're so wet.

Claire's laugh rumbles against you, and she easily guides you towards the couch.

You only grow steadily redder as she pulls your legs apart, kissing her way up from one ankle, and then kisses her way back down the other, over and over until you're squirming with your need.

“Mommy, please!” You cry.

Claire groans, eyes fluttering shut for a few moments, before she pulls you close, hooking your legs over her shoulders.

When she noses at your clit, your hands find her hair, and she tsks.

“No, doll. I won't reward you if you pull at my hair.”

Reluctantly, you release your grip, and bury your fingers against the cushion of the couch instead.

“Good girl.” Claire praises, and you moan softly in response.

When her tongue presses against you, you shudder at the new sensation.

It's wet and warm and slightly rough, and–

“Oh, fuck!” You cry out. “Fuck, mommy!”

Claire's hands harshly grip at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, making you whimper, but she continues to lavish her tongue over your clit, and you begin to squirm in earnest.

You've masterbated plenty of times, and have a few toys in your bedside drawer, but that is nothing compared to the older woman’s touch.

Within a few minutes, you're already near orgasm, and you chase the release, fighting the urge to bring your hands back up to tangle into Claire's hair.

And then right when you're about to reach that high, the moment before the waves of pleasure can overwhelm you, she pulls away, and you loudly sob.

“No, please.” You gasp.

Claire smirks, and you whimper at how lustful her gaze is, at how your wetness glistens on the bottom half of her face.

“You want to cum, baby?” She mocks you, pouting. “You want mommy to let you feel good? Then beg for it. I need to hear my cute little doll ask for permission first.”

You whimper.

“Please, mommy.” You can feel tears start to gather with how badly you want this. “Please let your baby cum, I wanna cum for you, I wanna feel good, please, please, please!”

“Hm…” Claire hums.

“Please.” The tears start to roll down your cheeks. “I wanna to cum, mommy. I want you to make me cum, please.”

You let out a sob of desperation when a single digit finds your swollen clit, and lightly begins to circle it.

“Please.” You whisper, your voice getting caught in your throat.

For a moment, you think your boss is going to deny you, and you open your mouth to continue to beg, when instead you gasp, two of Claire’s fingers suddenly stretching you open.

You let out a high pitch noise when she curls the digits, pleasure burning through you, and you buck your hips.

“Mommy, mommy, mommy!” You chant, unable to form any other thought, let alone words.

“Cum for me, princess.” Claire softly orders, and as if your body was designed to obey her every desire, you convulse, a scream tearing it's way from your throat as she continues to finger fuck you, the gushing wetness weeping from your pussy causing a squelching noise, and you writhe as you ride the high.

“Fuck, baby.” Claire groans. “I want you to come for me again.”

You squirm desperately, the aftershocks still pulsing through you, but Claire is stronger than your now limp body, and she thumbs at your clit, sending electric waves up your spine, causing your back to arch painfully.

“FUCK!” You cry out, unable to control your volume, and you can barely hear Claire's responding moan over the static in your ears as a new wave of ecstasy crashes over you.

You're gasping for air with how it steals your breath away, and when Claire collapses on top of you, you gladly welcome it, despite how it further suffocates your lungs of oxygen.

She smells so good. You think as you start to come back to your senses.

The scent of vanilla is still prominent, but it's now mixed with the smell of Claire’s sweat.

Somehow, it's more appealing.

The smell of sex still hangs heavy in the air, and you throb as your body unfairly grows more aroused again.

“Mommy.” You whisper.

Claire groans, burying her head further against your neck.

“You smell so good, princess.” She says. “And you look so beautiful when I fuck your brains out.”

A whimper catches in the back of your throat.

Claire finally moves, shifting until she's sitting upright, and you don't think she's ever looked as enthralling as does now.

Her cheeks are flushed, and you can clearly see faint freckles that are usually hidden under a layer of makeup that Claire must have sweated off, and her hair has gone from stick straight to gentle waves, a halo of frizz framing her face.

You lose yourself in her eyes, at how she smiles so tenderly as she helps you up and to the private attached bathroom in her office.

“Let's get cleaned up, doll.” She says, and you grin goofily at her.

Your head is still spinning.

She giggles, a light sound that makes you join in once a light snort causes her to double over.

“You're so cute.” She smiles, and you obediently spread your legs when she taps your thigh.

She gently runs the wash cloth in her hand over the sticky residue of your arousal, and you flinch every time she passes over your clit.

“You’re still so sensitive.” She breathes out. “Did mommy not satisfy you, doll? Do you want mommy to keep going until it hurts for me to?”

“I- ah!” You cry out when Claire firmly swipes the cloth over your swollen bud. “I just want to be good.”

Claire peers up at you, and you hold your breath as she weighs your words.

“Next time then, maybe.” She decides, and you aren't sure if your shoulders slump with relief or disappointment.

She finishes cleaning you up, before moving on to herself, telling you to wait as she does so.

You watch as her back muscles move with her motions, and you can't resist the urge to kiss them, to nip at them.

Who knew the governor would have such fairly well defined muscles?

“Baby.” Claire warns.

“Mmm… Mommy.” You reply, before darting the tip of your tongue out against her warm skin.

“Baby, if you want to go home, you'll stop.”

“But you're so pretty. I can't help it.”

Claire turns around, shaking her head.

“You're adorable, honey. Come on, let's get dressed so we can head home.”

Claire has to help you into your shirt and pants, and you don't notice when she pockets your underwear instead of giving it back to you when she spots it under the couch.

Before you leave, your boss insists on watching you drink a glass of water, predicting you'll be too tired to do so once she drops you off at home, expressing how important it is to her that you take care of yourself.

By the time you get to her car, you're stumbling with exhaustion, beginning to crash as the endorphin high wears off.

You can't keep your eyes open once she starts driving, and when you let out a huge yawn, Claire glances at you.

“Go to sleep, baby.” She soothingly says. “I'll wake you up when we get home.”

You're used to listening when she asks you of something, and so you don't think twice as you finally allow your eyes to stay close, and you drift off, Claire's warm hand on your thigh.

[cb97breathing]

SAFE HAVEN - A BANG CHAN SERIES

THE MASTERLIST NEXT

CHAPTER ONE: FLIGHT 1983

Pairing: Bang Chan x Afab Plus Size Reader

General Synopsis: You ran away from New York to South Korea to escape the hell you were living in. With the help of a girl who lived there. Your only goal was to have a fresh start but that all changes when a certain boy notices you on the flight. After a shy encounter, he ends up being your neighbor and also a friend of the girl who helped you escape. You want to let him in, but you're scared because of your past. But he is patient and willing to wait as long as it takes to win your heart.

Word Count: 1.2K

Warning: story contains mentions of suicide, abuse & sexual assault. ADULT THEMES. MINORS AND AGESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT.

A/N: Please don't repost or translate my work. If you wish to be tagged please comment on the post! Thank you.

".....You stupid bitch, look how fat you have gotten, you disgusting cow."  He growled out as he slapped you hard across the face. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried hard not to cry. Crying only got him more angry. But when a small whimper escaped your lips his ice cold blue eyes became enraged. He grabbed you roughly by the throat which caused you to gasp as you looked at him with panicked eyes. "Who said you could cry?" He hissed. "You know better than to cry when this is all your fault." He spat. 

"J-Jacob please. I-I'm sorry. I’ll lose the weight, I’ll starve if I have to, please d-don’t do this." You choked out as tears flew down your bruised cheeks. He raised his hand high to slap again with full force. 

You woke up from your deep sleep with a loud gasp. You looked around wildly before finally remembering where you were. You were on a plane, you were free. You looked at the other passengers on the plane apologetically and pulled your hoodie over your head to hide away in embarrassment. You closed her eyes as you let out a shaky breath. It was just a dream. You thought to herself. He can't hurt you anymore. You couldn't help but feel like you were being watched. 

When your eyes opened you looked to see a pair of warm chocolate brown eyes staring at you in concern. You couldn't see most of his face because he was wearing a mask and a snapback. But his eyes spoke volumes with the look he was giving you. You gave him a small smile, trying to signal that you were okay. Who were you kidding? You weren’t okay, far from it. You probably looked like a total mess. You looked away from him and out the window of the plane, watching the clouds go by as you flew far away from your home, far away from your friends and family, far away from him. 

Flight 1983 to Seoul, South Korea landing in 30 minutes! 

Your eyes shot to where the voice of the flight attendant could be heard. Your eyes once again landed on the boy who stared at you earlier. He was no longer looking at you, but talking quietly with two boys sitting with him. But soon he turned to look back at you again, you quickly went back to looking out the window, praying that the younger man didn’t catch you staring. 

Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment. Pull yourself together Y/n… You internally scolded yourself for even looking at him. You weren’t here to make friends, or stare at attractive guys. You weren’t here for any other reason but to escape. South Korea would be the last place that monster, Jacob, would look for you. It’s also the last place anyone else would consider. You knew he’d be watching your friends and family closely in hopes to catch you and bring you back. You would die before letting that happen. 

You tried hard to keep your eyes glued to the window beside you for the next thirty minutes, but you could feel his eyes on you whenever he glanced your way. It made you feel uncomfortable and nervous. You were sure he probably was just concerned, but it’s not like you knew him. Once the plane landed you rushed to get your carry-on bag and left, not giving him the satisfaction of eye contact.  You rushed to find your contact who helped you get there. A girl you had met online, who helped you open up your own bank account, purchase a home and register to live in Seoul without Jacob ever finding out. 

“Hey wait!!” You heard someone call to you. You turned around to see the boy running towards you. Your eyes widened and you quickly turned to keep walking. “Wait!” He called again as he caught up to you and stopped right in front of you. You stopped in your tracks and kept your eyes on the ground, scared to even look up at him. He panted lightly. “You dropped this.” He whispered gently as he held a silver chain in his hands. Your eyes widened and you went to gently grab it from his large hand. You checked to see if the amethyst charm was still on it and sighed in relief when it was. You looked up at him shyly. 

“Thank you.” You breathed out. “I don’t know what I would have done if I had lost this.” His eyes gleamed and you could see he was smiling behind his mask. You couldn’t help but be curious, as to what the rest of his face looked like. You felt yourself wanting to see his smile. 

“It’s no problem.” He responded with a chuckle. Australian accent? You thought to herself. Maybe he was visiting as well. “I know you probably don’t want to talk about it, but are you alright? That nightmare seemed to take a toll on you.” He asked in concern which only made your cheeks grow hot in embarrassment. You looked down at your worn out converse and sighed. 

“I caused a scene didn’t I?” You asked quietly. “I’m sorry, but yes I’m okay.” You looked back up to him and could see from just his eyes alone that he clearly wasn’t believing your answer. He went to speak again but stopped when he heard someone call his name. 

“Chan!” You both looked in the direction of where they heard his name called and she saw a large group of boys, including the ones he sat with waving him over. 

“Y/n!” Your eyes quickly shot over to see the female who you had been looking for. You bit her lip and looked up at the boy. 

“I should probably go, but thank you again for saving my necklace.” You said quietly. His eyes gazed at her with a softness she did not recognize, the only gaze she ever got from a male was one of hatred and anger. 

You nodded your head in respect to him and moved past him to go to the woman. But he stayed in place watching you as you moved further and further away from him, his hand still tingling from feeling your small fingers brushing against his palm.

 “Y/n.” He whispered to himself as he stared at you, watching you embrace the masked woman who called your name. “Who are you?” He asked curiously to himself. He felt a pull the second he laid eyes on you, as you tossed and turned in your sleep on the plane. But once you both locked eyes, he was done for. He could not stop looking at you. He finally turned and rushed over to his friends and apologized quietly. As they walked to go get their baggage he couldn’t help but occasionally look back at you until you were no longer in his sight. Will I ever see you again? He thought to himself. He prayed that fate would somehow make you both  cross paths again and soon.  Little did he know that at the moments that he wasn't looking your curious eyes were watching him as well, wondering just the same.

tagged list: @leeknowsthighs14 @sirenthalia @catlove83 @hyunnieshannie @blossomwritesthings @binchansbiceps @grannyindehouse @sunshinesquokka @tinyarsonist @linocvp1d @pretty-npeach @freyadanvers @@kpopsstuffs @felixowned @colorguardlover14 @linaliskz @changbinisabigboy

[wri0thesley]

Just read your post on Kaeya being a menace, and not only do I fully agree, but to elucidate on it a tad further: Kaeya is definitely on a personal mission to fuck the reader in as many places in Mondstadt as he possibly can. We can agree on that, right? Basically any accessible place that has a decently-flat surface is free game, but he does have a preference for the riskier spots. Specifically riskier of getting caught. Makes it all the more thrilling, y’know?

a list of places i absolutely think kaeya has fucked reader:

Jean's office. That goes without saying; when he was standing in for her as Acting Grand Master during her illness, he had to take advantage of it somehow - and you were so cute as you looked around it and mumbled about how the two of you were going to get caught, even as he bent you over her desk and pounded you so hard you saw stars. It still counts as working; he occasionally let his eyes wander to the paperwork he was supposed to be reviewing. You were just there to help him . . . concentrate.

The library, when Lisa was on one of her tea breaks - you had to be very quiet as Kaeya pulled you onto his lap and let his hand whisper up your thigh, because there's no telling when she'll appear out of nowhere - and if she heard the noises you usually made? Kaeya's certain he'd be barred from the library for far longer than would be preferable. He needs to do some research sometimes, too!

The Angel's Share. Upstairs, whilst Diluc is behind the bar; when he's gotten you into a dark corner and all of the other patrons are too drunk to notice anything, he's started kissing you and pushed you against a wall and told you not to give the game away. Everyone will think you're getting a little too into the kiss, yes - but they'll never guess that Kaeya's three fingers deep inside you whilst his mouth catches your whimpers.

More alleys than he'd care to expound on; at this point, it's harder to find an alley that you haven't had a little nightly exploration within. You always tease Kaeya that one night the Dark Night Hero is going to find what the two of you are up to and steal you away, punishing him for corrupting a poor innocent of Monstadt - but for some reason, that thought just makes him fuck you a little rougher.

Several abandoned Treasure Hoarder camps, out in the wilderness, that he's been sent to have a look at - Kaeya and the Treasure Hoarders have a kind of agreement, yes, but he still needs to assert that he's the one in charge . . . so when they leave behind maps or books or crates, he figures the best way to do this is to fuck you on every single one of them. Don't question his methods.

Dragonspine, the few times he's had to go there; don't worry, the cold doesn't bother Kaeya at all, and he's willing to warm you up when you need it.

Windrise, far too close to the statue of Barbatos for your own comfort - people come there to pray and reflect, you tell Kaeya, as he bites into the soft flesh of your inner thigh and your hands tangle in his hair. Kaeya raises the eyebrow of his visible eye. "I'm praying too," he tells you, with a cocky grin. "But my altar tastes far better than any statue--"

[the-illiterate-pirate]

Omg what about some Aisho Dainenjiyama headcanons! I really liked your Thunder McQueen ones!!!

Random Aisho HCs ♡

Nsfw under the cut

Thank you, I glad you liked my other HCs! I'm so happy to make another post for our boy Aisho, he definitely deserves more love <3

EDIT– Hey uh this is future me. This has been rotting in my drafts for months. I'm so sorry.

SFW

• Juggling two jobs can be stressful for anyone. Aisho comes home most late afternoons absolutely exhausted, looking for your lap to use as a pillow to help destress

• He loves when you play with his hair

• CHEESEY ROMANTIC, this man will do anything to make you happy and it's always over the top.

• The absolute JOY this man would feel if you visited the baseball stadium while he was working, he'd be so happy for the rest of his shift after just catching a glimpse of you

• He's INCREDIBLY touchy, and loves to hold you. While he's not a fan of PDA, Aisho will link your pinkies together while you're in public.

• Loves to spoil you, he's surprisingly loaded.

• I've mentioned before in previous posts that rock humans have a surprising yandere-ish streak. Unlike his boss, Aisho will listen and try to do better if his obsessive nature makes you uncomfortable. He just loves you so much... he'll do anything to make you feel loved and safe!!

• Considering his past burns, it takes Aisho a lot longer to tell you about his true self. He'd probably take the moment to propose, too, confessing his abilities and confessing his absolute true love at the same time kind of go hand in hand for him

• Sleeps underneath the bed when he turns to stone

• Probably THE person to come to if you're ill. He knows all the tricks, and makes some banging chicken noodle soup (or veggie soup if you don't eat meat)

• Makes amazing hot chocolate in the colder months

• His favorite smell and flavor is chestnut. He loves chestnut coffee

NSFW

• Doesn't like to have sex often because it exhausts him, and he's scared he'll fall asleep afterwards ;w;

• Bottom leaning, but when he tops he enjoys every second. May get a little rough, but apologies profusely right after.

• He doesn't bite, but he does suck. Hickies are a very real danger with him

• Very loud, he doesn't speak a lot, except for the jumbled mess of please for more if you count it, but he mostly is just a moaning, whining, whimpering mess. In bed, it's just Aisho, and that red hot delicious feeling. He forgets about his surroundings and he's gotten in trouble with a last landlord because of it

• His fav positions is having you in his lap <3 or him in yours. He loves the closeness of it. With your hands in his hair, legs wrapped around whoever, free access to kisses. Very romantic.

• If he hasn't lost his mind yet, Aisho loves to keep eye contact and hold your hands, too.

• Breeding kink

• Hates to try teasing you, LOVES to be teased.

• On that note, more then willing to beg if you're into it

• On second thought I think this man is a masochist

• Not always up for sex, but v eager to eat you out!

• Honestly, he's down for anything if it makes you happy. Aisho is always willing to try anything oncd

[inkovert]

WIP Snippet Tag Game

Rules: Post a snippet you've written that you're proud of and tag 5 people

Thank you @pluttskutt for creating this tag game and tagging me to get it started! Hope you don't mind I gave it a name, feel free to change it

Tagging: @that-chibi-writer @junypr-camus @mundanemoongirl @chauceryfairytales @author-a-holmes

I was pretty excited to do this one because I have a lot of scenes that I'm proud of that I've written lately. I was torn between two that I wanted to share but chose to go with this one. I rarely post long snippets of my writing so I was hesitant to share this one, but I just don't think singling out a piece of this scene would've done it justice so - here it is!

A snippet from My Dearest Enemy. I don't think much context is needed.

CW: active grieving, death of a parent, brief mention of self-harm (to those I tagged pls don't feel obligated to read this if it is at all triggering)

Word count: 1915

A sea of faceless onlookers. A figure in the middle, centering the piece. Something was off about her. Was she naked? No. Too literal, too obvious. Black in a sea of white? No nuance to that. But something made her different from the others. A spot of abnormal in the sea of normality. 

“Would anyone be willing to read the passage on page 13 starting with ‘Clevinger arrested himself’?”

I glanced up from my sketchbook. Dead silence. Almost everyone stared down at their desks as if that would somehow make them invisible. 

Mrs. Fischer stood at the front of the class, frowning. Why she insisted on getting a bunch of jaded seniors to read out loud anymore was above me.  

To put everyone out of the misery of steeping in this awkwardness any longer, I closed my sketchbook and boldly raised a hand. 

Mrs. Fischer’s eyes brightened behind her glasses. “Thank you, Cameron, for volunteering.” 

I flipped to the page and cleared my throat before reading: “Clevinger arrested himself in mid-declamation, suspiciously. ‘Who’s Nathaniel?’ ‘Nathaniel who?’ inquired Yossarian impatiently. Clevinger skirted the trap neatly. ‘You think everybody is Jehovah. You’re no better than Raskol—”  I stopped abruptly. 

“Raskolnkov,” Mrs. Fischer said, under the assumption I was having trouble pronouncing the name. 

An intense pressure slammed into my chest like a crushing weight.  

This Raskolnkov fellow sure is a piece of work.

A tidal wave of emotions surged to the surface, crashing over me. My body grew heavy and rigid like blocks of steel, pinned beneath the weight of anguish threatening to consume me. I took quick, shallow breaths, forcing myself to stay afloat, willing the flood to recede.

“Raskol —” My voice thinned and broke with impending tears. 

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to regain control of myself. Not here. Not now. Not like this. 

The rustling sound of movement. I could sense heads turning in my direction. 

Faint whispers. “Is she okay?”

“Cameron? Are you alright?” Mrs. Fischer asked. 

I clamped a hand over my mouth, smothering the sob expanding like a bubble caged in my throat. I bolted up from my seat and ran for the door, ignoring the confused looks and poorly concealed murmurs of concern.

You’re never going to finish that are you?

Some day, I will. A chapter a year and I’ll be finished before you know it.

I’ll practically be in college by then!

So, it’s a deal?

My heartbeat thundered in my ears. Everything around me blurred as fresh, hot tears pooled behind my eyes, racing down my face. I clenched my teeth to quiet the sobs. The world tilted as I suddenly grew unsteady on my feet, in desperate need of a place to sit down. 

Coming up on the stairs to the upper floor, I ran up a few steps and took a seat at the landing. Heaving and sobbing hysterically, I shook out my wrists, willing myself to get a grip, terrified that I was rapidly losing control. Digging my phone out of my pocket, I furiously wiped away my tears so I could see the screen.

Who to text? 

Mira? We hadn’t talked since I blew up at her Saturday night. 

Jeremy? No, I couldn’t drag him into this. 

My grip on my phone slipped and I gasped as it clattered down the steps, sliding across the floor. 

“Fuck shit fuck!”

Hugging my knees and burying my head in my lap, I rocked back and forth, praying for this intense feeling of despair to subside. 

The faint sound of footsteps. They abruptly stopped just below me.

“Screen’s cracked.” 

My ears perked up at the familiar voice. I lifted my head. It took a second for my eyes to focus. Spencer stood at the base of the stairs holding my phone in his hand. 

I scoffed, glancing away with a sniffle. “What the hell do you want?”

“Mrs. Fischer wanted someone to check on you. I told her I’d make an attempt to look for you on my way to the bathroom.”

I rolled my eyes with a bitter laugh. “How noble of you to include me in there as an afterthought. You checked. I’m fine. You can leave.”

“Very convincing performance.”

“Seriously, Spencer, go away. I’m not in the mood.” Balancing my elbows on my knees, I hung my head, digging my fingers into my scalp. In my periphery, I watched him take two steps to lean against the railing. “God, can you please just leave?” I whined in aggravation. My heart wrenched, and any other words of protests died inside me on their way to my lips. 

I was too far gone to care how humiliating this was, falling apart in front of him, of all people. 

It didn’t matter. I was no longer in control of my body. Grief had snuck in and hijacked my nerves, rooted itself in my bone marrow. All I could do was bend to its will, heave and sob into the sleeve of my sweater until it retracted its claws from my lungs and granted me permission to breathe again. 

Slowly, gently, my sobs subsided into quiet hiccups. I folded my arms atop my knees and rested my cheek against them. “No one told me it would be like this.” I sniffled, my voice quiet and hoarse. “No one prepared me. After it happened, we just…never spoke about it. She just went on as if nothing had happened. Like if we ignored it, everything would go back to normal.” My forehead pinched in frustration, a stray tear tickling my skin as it streamed down the side of my nose before veering off course and dripping against my hand.  “I guess something inside of me wanted to believe that it was possible. That we…that I could be normal again. I’d give anything for that.”

“Seems like an awful lot of effort wasted pretending to be something you’re not.”

I furrowed my brows. Lifting my head, I regarded Spencer at the base of the stairs. 

He rested an elbow on the railing behind him, his thumb fiddling with the ring on his pointer finger. “If you ask me, it’s pretty overrated. Being normal. Whatever that means.”

I pursed my lips, then cleared my throat. “How do you figure that?”

“Normal people don't do extraordinary things. They don't make history. They're,” he shrugged, “forgettable.”

I perched my chin on my arms and stared down at him. “What if I don’t want to be remembered?”

He finally glanced up at me. “Sounds like a pretty sad existence.”

“Maybe. But can’t be any worse than the one I’m already living.”

He quirked a brow as if to say, Touche. 

I studied him. “You know, you’re not normal either.”

“Damn, really?” he said, in the world’s most disinterested tone. “What gave it away? The fact that I piss off everyone I talk to or that I stood in the middle of a hallway and cut my hand open?”

My head tottered from side to side. “You know what? I think it’s a tie.” I pressed the knuckle of my thumb against my lips to suppress a laugh. He shook his head, turning away just as the corner of his lips sloped upward in amusement. 

I pulled the sleeves of my sweater over my hands. “My dad had to read Crime and Punishment for a lit class he was forced to take in college. He never finished it. Every time he picked it up, he’d only get a few pages in and give up. Years later, after my brother and I were born, Jeremy signed up to be the Scarecrow in the Wizard of Oz for a school play. A few weeks into rehearsals, he started to get bored of it and wanted to quit. My dad gave him this whole speech about how if he never finished anything he started people would assume they couldn’t rely on him. My brother, cleverly, asked my dad if he’d ever started something that he never finished. And he remembered his college lit class. He couldn’t come off as a hypocrite. He had to set an example for my brother. So he made a deal that he would finish Crime and Punishment if Jeremy saw the play through.”

 I chuckled. “Total idiot move. My brother only had to suffer for two more weeks in rehearsal. But my dad had to suffer through that book for years. A chapter a year. That was his goal. And he stuck to it.  Every December, I’d catch him up late in the middle of the night, trying to get a few pages in so he could keep his promise. That book practically lived on our coffee table. Every year the bookmark inched closer and closer to the end. We even made a game out of it, seeing who could come up with the most absurd things that would happen before Dad ever finished that book.” My breath hitched. I swallowed as fresh tears stung the back of my eyes. “I’d almost forgotten about that. And now all I can think about is…that bookmark. Staying on that same page where he left it last December. Forever.”

My voice cracked. Sniffling, I wiped at my wet cheeks in frustration. 

I blinked up at the fluorescent lights, willing the tears to stop. “It’s crazy. The different ways a person’s memory lingers. How just reading a single word in a book could make me wanna cry for days.” The ensuing silence made my skin crawl, suddenly painfully aware that maybe I had shared too much. I tugged my sleeves further over my hands. “Have you ever…lost anyone?”

His head shifted in my general direction, but he didn’t meet my eyes. 

I stiffened. “I’m sorry, that’s a really deeply personal question. You don’t have to answer that.”

He tilted his head back. To my surprise, he responded, “Yeah, I have.” I stayed quiet, giving him the space to speak, or to share in the quiet with me. “My mother.”

My heart pierced. “Oh my god. I’m so —”

“Don’t.” He cut me off. “It happened when I was really young. I don’t even remember her.”

I peered at him curiously, not understanding. “Even if you didn’t really know her, that doesn’t mean you can’t still mourn what’s missing. I know I would.” 

His head whipped up to me, eyes wide with the purest, unguarded wonder for the briefest moment. 

The shrill ring of the bell broke the spell. 

He turned away, withdrawing into himself once more. 

“Crap. I practically skipped out on the whole class. This isn’t gonna go over well.” 

“We should probably head back.” Head down, Spencer eased off the railing.

“You go ahead,” I said. He threw a curious look over his shoulder. “I’m not exactly keen on walking back into a room full of people who witnessed me having a mental breakdown.” He nodded in understanding. “But, thank you. For checking on me, and trying to comfort me…in your own way. You didn’t have to do all that.” Given how standoffish he’d been during our last few encounters, I began to wonder. “Why…did you?”

He stared down at his hands, idly twisting the silver ring on his forefinger. “I don't know," he said. "What’s the alternative?”

His response disarmed me as I slowly recognized my own words from our conversation at the Yard. A slow smile crept up my face. 

[thestayathomedragon]

This thing is so much more massive then I ever thought it would become. You'll have to forgive any mistakes in English and Spanish you may find. As well as any risks I've taken that at the time I thought were worth taking. I don't know when I'll be able to stomach reading this again after fighting with it for weeks now in order to fix anything I missed so I'm sorry in advance.

There are probably some tags that also need to be updated but I'm tired and I just want this posted and done. I'll get to those sooner than later I hope.

Anyway if you're still willing to read this monster of a chapter (11,000+ words) and open to yet another AU I appreciate it. :3

I want to scream "I love you" from the top of my lungs (but I’m afraid that someone else will hear me)

Time is luck and I wish ours overlapped more or for longer…

The first time he laid eyes on Luis again after all these long years, Leon realized just how much he had forgotten about the other man.

He had forgotten what color Luis’s eyes were, smoke gray, and how big and expressive they were. He had forgotten the curve of the man’s jaw and the way the dark curls of his hair fell around his face. The bend of his lips when he smiled. He had even forgotten the sound of his voice, deep and lilting, with just a little hint of a rasp. Probably from those damned cigarettes he had always been so fond of.

It had been a long time. Ten years? But really, who was counting?

Leon also realized pretty quickly that the only thing he truly remembered about Dr. Luis Serra Navarro was how being with him made him feel.

“Hey.” He said softly in greeting and he couldn’t help but cringe internally because he knows these were not his first words to the man.

“Hey…” Pale eyes blinked a few times trying to adjust to the light shining directly into his face. Then Luis smirked and said, “Got a smoke?”

Leon couldn’t help the stupid grin that spread across his face at that. “No… but maybe we can find you one?”

He was already working on cutting Luis loose and as soon as the man was free Leon held his finger up to his mouth and showed him the flash bang tucked in his coat.

Luis looked confused but then his eyes widened in response to something… or someone behind Leon. “Close your eyes.”

The first meeting with Mendez went quite differently this time because Leon was expecting him.

A flash bang in such an enclosed space wasn’t a great plan, but it was the best Leon was able to come up with on the fly. It was, however, enough to incapacitate the big bastard long enough for them to get past him.

Leon rushed Luis up the ladder first and to his surprise the other man stuck around to help him up in kind. They took off together with Mendez not far behind them. Then Leon suddenly remembered the trip wire he disarmed on the way inside and used it to blow their stalker to hell.

“Merida!” Luis wheezed, trying his best to keep up with Leon. Leon made sure to check on him often but then, “Hey, wait!” He heard Luis’s yell but it was too late.

Pain exploded in Leon’s leg, it was nearly enough for him to pass out on the spot. “Fuck!” In his hast and attempt to make sure Luis kept up, he had completely missed that bear trap.

Luis could have kept going, he looked like he was considering it, but instead he cursed under his breath and doubled back for Leon. “You better be worth it, yanqui!” He hissed.

Leon was in too much pain for a quip and Luis was too distracted by his fight to get the bear trap open… Which meant neither of them saw the axe wielding villager until it was too late.

“Luis!”

Leon didn’t feel a thing when Mendez finally caught up to him.

[You Are Dead. Reload Save? Quit?]

“You alright?”

He still expected Luis to try and run at the first opportunity, but the man surprised him by sticking around again this time. Leon thought that maybe since Leon hadn’t gotten his ass handed to him in front of the guy by Mendez this time that maybe he trusted him enough to watch his back. They were currently taking shelter in a rundown shack that was more of a storage shed than somewhere someone would actually live.

“Si? You?” Luis’s voice was back to normal. His breathing had evened out.

“Yeah. I’m good. No sweat.”

“So… got a name, Yanqui?”

Leon smirked, “Yeah. Leon Kennedy. You?”

“I’m Luis Serra. Seems you… me… picked the wrong spot to vacation, eh?”

“You could definitely say that.” Leon huffed, chuckling.

It had been ten years since Leon had traversed the village of Valdelobos and that had not been with Luis at his side. The man knew his way around much better than any map Hunnigan could have provided him. The extra fire power had made it much easier to make it through the valley full of “Ganados” as Luis had taken to calling them.  

“I heard chatter about your missing senorita…” Luis whispered after they had successfully ducked and slinked passed some patrolling Ganados “Then later… I saw some of them dragging someone into the old church. It isn’t too far now. That way. But first… we’re gonna need to make a pit stop.”

“We need a key, right?”

Luis looked at him with a raised brow. “Si.” He said slowly. “It should be in the Big Cheese’s house.”

“Big cheese?”

“Si. Very Big Cheese.”

“Oh.” Leon grimaced. Now he remembered.

“That beauty there is our ticket in.” Luis said gesturing to the Eagle Emblem Leon had tucked in his coat. They had been able to snag it on their way through the valley.

They would have to be quick about it.

They were in fact not quick enough about it.

It went almost the way he remembered, only this time the injection Leon had been able to avoid in the old cellar of the Navarro house was revisited upon him in the Mendez home.

“Fuck.” Leon hissed, hand to his neck. “Fuck!”

“Shit! Shit!” Luis panicked, going pale as a sheet as he paced the room. Apparently, after injecting Leon, their hulking assailant no longer saw a point in sticking around.

“Hey, hey! Calm down.”

“No. No, you don’t understand.” Luis hissed and snatched his arm away from him.

“So, take a minute, calm down and explain it to me.”

And so, Luis did.

On the way to the lake, Leon couldn’t help but notice the looks the other man was giving him.  

“Why didn’t you ask me how I knew about the plaga?”

“Huh?”

Luis narrowed his eyes at him.

“Uh, you’re from here, aren’t you?” Leon had been trying not to be too obvious about exactly how much he knew but he was becoming impatient. In his hurry to get through the same nightmares he had already experienced there was no doubt that he had let a few things slip.

Luckily, Luis didn’t press the matter. It wasn’t like they had a lot of time for chitchat while they tried not to be beheaded by a bunch of plaga infested villagers after all.

When they finally made it to the boat and onto the lake, the fight with the giant fish monster or salamander monster, according to Luis, went about as well as it always did.

They made it to the church battered and bruised but with key in hand. And when Leon tried to yell for Ashley, Luis was quick enough to stop him.

“What are you doing?!” He hissed. “You want to tell everyone we’re here or something?”

Leon rolled his eyes. He already knew there wasn’t anyone else here at the moment but kept quiet instead and conceded that the Spaniard may have had a point.

For some reason with Luis there, his first introduction to Ashley Graham went a lot smoother than he remembered.

This time he had to catch Ashley and Luis when they jumped out of the window. He not only learned what Luis’s giggle sounded like right next to his ear, but he and his back also learned that Luis is a lot heavier than he looks.

Having Luis for back up as they fight their way out of the church should have been a boon to their side and it had been up until Ashley slipped on the rain softened ground and the other man went to help her.

Leon turned just in time to see the Molotov burst against Luis’s back.

“Oh shit.” He gasped and it was pure reflex that put that bullet through the head of the bastard that threw it.

But it was no use.

Ashley’s shriek of Luis’s name was the last thing Leon heard.

[You Are Dead. Reload Save? Quit?]

This time they weren’t able to avoid ending up in the cabin after they save Ashley from the church.

Although Leon did remember this time that there was a way from Ashley’s hiding place that would allow her to get upstairs to the door outside and unlock it. Which meant that the fight didn’t last nearly as long. Which meant that they got out before the Bull-head guy showed up.

This turned out to be unfortunate for multiple reasons but mostly because during their run from the cabin they crossed paths with the bull-headed bastard on the way to the wooden portcullis-like gate with Ashley having led the way. They are all startled by the appearance of the hulking Ganado, but Luis was fast enough to push Ashley out of the way. However, he was not fast enough to get himself out of the way in time to avoid taking a blow from the bastard’s oversized sledgehammer.

“Oh god! Luis!”

Ashley was still sprawled on the ground where she landed. Leon hesitated for a split second before he returned his attention back to the hammer wielding son of a bitch but it was just enough time for him to be grabbed from behind by a group of Ganados from the cabin.

“Leon!”

He swore he heard the Bull bastard laugh as he swung again.

[You Are Dead. Reload Save? Quit?]

“I’m fine. I’m fine!” Luis hissed, pushing Leon away from him. “Tenemos que darnos prisa! Tienen a la princesa!”

Leon could admit that maybe this time he may have been a bit more overprotective of Luis than he should have been. He was so worried about Luis that Ashley had been easily snatched right from under their noses.

“What the hell is wrong with you, yanqui? Don’t you have a job to do?” The other man said before he took off in the direction they had seen Ashley being carried by the village chief Mendez.

Luis was rightfully furious. He had also been risking his life to protect Ashley too after all.

Leon knew that Luis was right. That he had to get his head back into the game before someone took it off. And Leon had every intention of doing so up until there was a flaming barrel of fuel was thrown Luis’s way and he had only a split second to decide what to do.

The choice was a lot easier than it should have been.

[You Are Dead. Reload Save? Quit?]

Leon spent days with Luis and it was just as he had always quietly suspected all these years. Luis was the one that had slipped right through his fingers. The one that got away.

Leon tried not to dwell on it every time. He did have a job to do. Ashley was the priority. And he didn’t have to do much to convince himself of that. Of the three of them Ashley was the one that least deserved what was happening to her. And surely, she needed him more than Luis ever had but it didn’t make his failures any easier to stomach. Every time he watched Luis die another part of him went with the other man.

He didn’t even want to consider what happened to Ashley every time he failed her.

So, Leon took these chances and instead of losing his patience with the other man this time he actually listened when Luis talked.  

Leon wanted to know more about Luis, and he knew he had to earn the man’s trust in order for him to do so. Leon learned just how similar they were. Apparently, Luis had lost his family at a young age as well and had also used that as fuel to work his way through school and to the top of his class. And though Leon had never gone to college he had done the same when he joined the police academy.

Apparently, neither of them felt comfortable enough to bring up their history with Umbrella but he could tell that Luis was suspicious of just how much Leon knew about his past.

And where the Leon of the past had been irritable and stand-offish, the Leon of now wasn’t nearly as uptight as he had been during their first meeting. And because of this, this Leon found that he and Luis actually had a similar since of humor. One that apparently consisted solely of dumb puns and corny one liners.

It also did not help that it turned out that they both seemed to have a competitive streak. It had quickly become a competition of sorts to make each other laugh. Ashley didn’t seem to find their brand of humor quite as funny as they did. She called their particular brand of humor ‘dad jokes’ or something like that to which both he and Luis took offense.

Was she calling them old or something?

“I gotta say, you aren’t what I expected when you told me my dad sent you,” Ashley had told him once, giving him a small smile.

“Well, I guess I’ve just been through enough stuff like this to still have a sense of humor about it now.” Leon had shrugged and then ruffled her hair as he walked back to reclaim the lead in their little trio.

“Hey!” Ashley had squawked in outrage and tried to swat his hands away. Leon snickered as he went on his way.

He had started to notice that he and Ashley’s relationship had developed a lot easier this time around and was grateful for it. It made it a lot easier to keep track of her and her confidence seemed to grow a lot quicker than it had before.

“Oye, Sancho! That’s no way to treat a princess!”

Leon nearly tripped over himself the first time Luis called him “Sancho”, his heart squeezing a bit in his chest. When Leon snarked back and called him Don Quixote the other man immediately laughed at him and corrected his pronunciation. Though the smile on Luis’s face had been worth the embarrassment.  

From then on Leon did his best to keep the three of them together as long as he could.

---------

The first time he and Luis kissed was right after the minecart. Leon, high off the adrenaline making him jittery and reckless, just decided to hell with it and went for it. He just grabbed Luis and kissed him.

And to his relief the kiss was enthusiastically returned.

Honestly, it wasn’t actually much of a gamble at this point because if there was one thing Leon had noticed during his extended interactions with Luis was that the man was a terrible flirt. And apparently, had been the entire time, every time. How Leon hadn’t noticed when they first met, he had no idea.

Perhaps it was because he was a lot more attuned to the Spaniard this time. Now it seemed like Leon noticed everything Luis said or did and now it was just so obvious in retrospect.

It was actually kind of funny how oblivious 2004 Leon Kennedy had been versus 2014 Leon.

When they finally broke apart for air they just stood there for a bit, both of them grinning like fools. They stared into each other’s eyes like a pair of love-struck teenagers, their heads pressed together, noses almost touching. It was the happiest Leon had felt in so long that he could almost forget they were still in the depths of an ancient insect mine in the middle of nowhere Spain with Luis Serra of all people.

His therapist would have loved this.

He could hear her now. Something, something, trauma bonding… something, something.

“Mierda, Sancho. If I had known you were like this, I would have tried something hours ago.”

Leon couldn’t help but laugh like an idiot because Luis was pretty fucking cute when he blushed. “Well, now you know, cowboy.”

Leon also learned that while Luis Serra could dish it, he most certainly had a bit of difficulty taking it.

“Don’t go all shy on me now, Quixote.”

And if only Leon had a way to physically capture the way the other man’s eyes lit up in delight at the use of that nickname so he could revisit it over and over again.

Instead, Leon had to make do with a desperate attempt to capture the image into his memory.  

“I have to say… I didn’t expect you to be so receptive to my advances, yanqui.”

Luis was probably right to have been surprised by Leon’s reaction to his advances he supposed. The Leon of 2004 had been a young man forced into a military that had enacted a policy that was unfriendly at best and downright hostile at worse for someone like him. So needless to say, he hadn’t exactly felt encouraged to explore his possible bisexuality back then.

That Leon, forced onto a leash that had been at its tightest at this point in time, would have been very surprised to find out how his older counterpart turned out.

It took a hell of a lot of willpower, but he was finally able to pull himself away from Luis now that he finally had him. But they did still have to make it out of these mines. And Leon still had to make sure that Krauser didn’t get the drop on them and that the man didn’t get a chance to get to Luis.

Not to mention the fact that they still had to find Ashley before it was too late.

Ashley was still the priority. She had to be.

But that didn’t mean there wasn’t something else he could do to ensure Luis made it out of here alive as well. So, before they moved on, Leon was able to convince Luis to take off his jacket and trade it for Leon’s body armor.

Leon argued that if Saddler had sent someone after them this would be the perfect time for them to get the drop on them and he wanted to make sure that Luis was safe.

Luis objected at first of course. Leon was the one that the president sent to save his daughter and he couldn’t do that if he got himself killed because he tried to protect Luis. Leon assured him that he hadn’t gotten this far just because of a vest.

Luis acquiesced but not until he got Leon to agree to wear his jacket.

The fight with Krauser goes a lot differently this time around.

Leon remembered that the son of a bitch was a lot cockier the first time they did this. However, this time the major hadn’t gotten the chance to literally stab Luis in the back first. Now he had to deal with both of them at once. And the Leon he was up against now wasn’t the 27-year-old former rookie the major was accustomed to.

This Leon was a battle-hardened veteran with an additional ten years of experience under his belt.

Leon had insisted that Luis hang back and cover him with his pistol and the Spaniard was just as good of a shot when it really counted as Leon remembered.

He could tell when Krauser realized he wasn’t going to win this fight. When he realized that he couldn’t get in Leon’s head the way he had planned.

“He was after the amber.” Leon had said once Krauser had retreated.

The look on Luis’s face was one of shock and then resignation.

Sometimes, Luis told Leon about his deal with Ada. Sometimes, it never came up. Sometimes Leon ran into Ada. Sometimes he didn’t.

“Don’t ask me how I know.” Leon sighed, this time it never came up. “Just… keep it safe,” turning to the other man and giving him a meaningful look. “Alright?” He knew that Krauser wasn’t the only one who was trying to get their hands on it. And he wanted to make sure that Luis knew it, only breaking eye contact once Luis nodded in agreement.

It was a rare occasion that Luis was speechless, and Leon couldn’t be more grateful that the other man had chosen now to clam up and listen instead.  

“C’mon. Hard mode is just beginning.”

---------

The first time Leon actually looked at himself in a mirror he was surprised by his reflection. He had almost forgotten what he looked like back then and was fascinated by his baby face. A grinning Luis came to stand next to him and he couldn’t help but wonder what Luis would look like in ten years.

Leon gave him a soft look.

“What is it?” Luis asked although the only answer he got from Leon was another quick kiss.

“Nothing.” Leon shrugged.  

They fought Salazar together because Luis wouldn’t let Leon leave him behind, and surprisingly it went a lot smoother than Leon remembered it.

Not only did he give Leon the same taunts as before, but Salazar also now has some for the “traitor” Dr. Serra as well.

Leon found that he was unreasonably curious to hear what the little shit had to say about Luis. Mostly he found that Salazar was obsessed with Saddler, which he was already quite aware of. And that he had taken it upon himself to be upset on Saddler’s behalf that Luis had the nerve to not only reject the plaga but to remove it. Or as Salazar called it, “clawed it out like some rabid animal”.

But what had actually given Leon pause was that Salazar seemed to be particularly outraged that his Lord Saddler had chosen Luis over all his other and decidedly more loyal subjects stand beside him.

And that… was unexpected.

Leon had seen the way Luis’s face as fallen when the mold son of a bitch spit out that particularly jab.

After the fight with Salazar was finally over, Luis looked pale and stricken. And before Leon could ask him…

“It’s nothing. And I don’t want to talk about it.” Luis said. He wouldn’t even look at him. Instead focused on checking his pistol and making sure it was reloaded. With Leon’s vest on he almost looked the part. Almost.

“Uh… okay.” And Leon had to remind himself that there was still so much he never got a chance to learn about Dr. Luis Serra Navarro.

The scar he’d seen on the other man’s chest had taken on a whole new meaning.

Luis had to have been desperate to get that plaga out. Willing to go through unspeakable pain to do so. Not that Leon wouldn’t have also done the very same in a second. But Luis was a scientist, a researcher, not a battle-hardened soldier. For him to choose to put himself through something like that…

Leon felt ill.

---------

Running into Saddler again was an experience. For once this time Luis was with them and it pretty clear that the man was petrified at just the sight of the decrepit bastard.

Which was rather unfortunate since Luis was the only one of them not currently infected with las plagas. Which also meant that he was the only one of them currently not under Saddler control.

“D-don’t. Don’t t-… Luis.” Leon grit his teeth as he tried to fight just to get the words out. That was different. He remembered that he hadn’t been able to speak at all before. Even if it was strained. He still couldn’t move an inch, however.

And poor Ashley was once again standing in front of him… them fighting for her life. And that son of a bitch had his eyes on Luis the whole time. Not even bothering to give he and Ashley his full attention as he put them through hell.

Ashley and Luis.

He had failed them both. Again.

“L-lord Saddler…” Luis had finally found his voice and it sounded just as terrified as the man looked. “Please…” But before he could get a word in…

Leon flinched when the first shot went off. The sound of the disciple standing to the left of him falling was louder somehow. But then things played out a bit differently then Leon remembered because for once… Luis was with them.

“N-no.” Leon hissed.

“Please. S-stop.”

Saddler’s smile was chilling.

“Do you think I don’t know what you’ve done, dear boy?” His eyes were still on Luis. “I can sense it in their blood. You’ve tried to poison them against me. What lies have you told them? What heresy have you spread, ungrateful child?

“I had such great hopes for you, my little lamb. But there are only so many times I can turn the other cheek. You’ve been given chance after chance to learn the error or your ways and still… you persist.”

“Lu-Luis… You n-need to…”

Saddler didn’t even bother to look at Leon as he willed his hold on him even tighter.

“Lord Saddler please… I never meant to…”

The withered old bastard raised a hand and this time both he and Ashley screamed out in pain. Luis fell silent immediately.

“I offered you a most coveted seat by my side and this is what I receive from you in return for my generosity? You… Dr. Serra aiding in the massacre of your own brothers and sisters at the side of these American heretics?”

“I’m not sure,” Luis’s voice was so small. “What you want from me? I’ve already done what you asked.”

“That is true. You have… in part,” Saddler said as he paced around Ashley standing beside her and suddenly the gun in Ashley’s hand moved to point at Luis instead. “But you forget what I desired most of all…”

“N-no… I don’t…”

“Your fealty, Dr. Serra! I require your complete and utter devotion, my child… To our lord of course.”

Shit. No. “Y-yeah… r-right.” Leon wheezed as once again the invisible hold on his chest squeezed tighter. It was clear what Saddler was really after and it was even more stomach churning than Leon could have imagined.

“But that, my dear boy, is something I now see you aren’t capable of. What a pity and such a waste!” Saddled rested a hand upon Ashley’s shoulder. “What is it they say, my child?” The sickly son of a bitch actually chuckled as Ashley’s panicked cries increased, “An eye for an eye?”

“No! Wait!”

The next shot went off and then there was the familiar sound of a fallen body and Leon was helpless to do anything to stop it.

Ashley’s mournful sobs filled the room as all that Leon could do was continue to tremble with rage as all he was able to manage were a few tears of his own.

Leon knew that had Luis had the chance he would have moved to block the next shot. He also knew that even at this range the body armor would have protected them both, no problem.

But Luis did not get that chance. And this time Ashley did not miss.

[You Are Dead. Reload Save? Quit?]

They didn’t even make it past the giants this time.

All of Leon’s previous failures had begun to weigh on him. He was tired and desperately trying to ignore the feeling of defeat that loomed on the horizon. He had just gotten the hatch open underneath the first Gigante after he had made sure that Luis was out of the way. But it seemed that they both had miscalculated just how much of a reach one of those bastard’s had even while sinking into a pool of molten ore.

Leon could do nothing at that moment but stare in disbelief as the hatch closed. “O-oh g-god.” He gasped and fell to his knees. “Fuck.”

Unlike Leon, the armored of the two giants didn’t waste any time mourning the death of its partner.

[You Are Dead. Reload Save? Quit?]

The mine cart was getting old. Leon knew he was being unreasonably cranky but if Luis had to ride that thing as many times as Leon already had he would understand where Leon was coming from.

But Luis didn’t know what it was like to ride the minecart so many times, because Luis never remembered.

Thank god.

Luis got to live his life over and over again. Completely oblivious of the horrible way he had just died the time before.

Leon, of course, wasn’t so lucky.

Leon also hadn’t been lucky enough to dodge the novistodor that had been hiding to the left of him.

“A little help here!” He hissed as he wrestled with the chittering son of a bitch.

“Now, Sancho what would you do without me, eh?”

The thought alone turned out to be plenty to throw a PTSD ridden Leon off balance enough that he didn’t even see the novistodor intent on taking advantage of Luis’s vulnerable back until it was too late.

“Luis! On your six!”

“Eh?” Luis yelped as he was practically tackled by the giant insect.  

Leon’s struggle increased in his panic to get to the other man in time. Finally, he was able to dispatch it with a blade through its eye just in time to hear Luis’s panicked screams reach a fever pitch.

Leon turned over just in time to watch as not one but two of the monstrous bugs tore into Luis, tearing him apart right before his eyes.

The other man’s screams stopped abruptly, leaving only the sound of the insects as they fed and the sound of Leon’s harsh breathing echoing throughout the cavern.

Leon wasn’t sure what killed him this time, but he had a good idea.

[You Are Dead. Reload Save? Quit?]

Leon knew he had been acting strangely this run.

He knew that he had been a lot more paranoid and overbearing than usual. Protective of Luis in ways he had never been in the past. And somehow Luis seemed to know he was not quite himself.

Luis, unable to see that Leon was only trying to look out for him, grumbled more than once that what Leon had actually been doing was treating him like a child instead of trusting him as his partner in this.

Luis argued that he was just as serious about helping Ashley as Leon was and Leon would see that if he, “Saca la cabeza del culo para que puedas oírme.”

Leon didn’t know what that meant, his Spanish was regrettably not as good as it used to be due to disuse, but by the context of their argument and the look on Luis’s face it couldn’t have been complimentary.

“Watch your mouth, amigo.” Leon hissed.

“You’re kidding.” Luis snorted in response and shook his head. “Lo que sea, amigo.”

Their ongoing argument eventually came to a head when they lost Ashley to one of Salazar’s bug bastard bodyguards. Each of them then turned their frustrations with each other onto the hapless cultists that dared stand in their way.

Leon had been able to avoid getting infected this time, so the plan was to grab the stashed vails of suppressant and the amber sample, then get Ashley and head straight to Luis’s lab.

Hours later, covered in sweat and other such bodily fluids, the two of them clumsily stumbled into some long forgotten sitting room, the furniture covered in a thick layer of dust. They were all over each other, practically attached at the lips like two dimwitted and horny teenagers.

Adrenaline pumped through their veins and made them dizzy and dumb with lust.

“This the sort of shit you’re into eh, yanqui?” Luis sneered at him. “Your government training screw up your wiring or something? Es cierto?”  

Leon answered by shoving the Spaniard down onto an ancient-looking sofa. A plume of dust erupting into the air.

“C’mon then, querido. You can tell me. I don’t judge.” Luis’s snickered and only served to grate on Leon’s nerves even more. He’d forgotten how irritating this asshole could be in his obsession with saving his life.

“Do you ever shut up?” Leon growled before shoving at Luis’s shoulders and following him down, clambering onto him to straddle his narrow hips.

“Why don’t you give me a reason to, yanqui?”

Insufferable. But Leon was grateful for the distraction. Having Luis in his arms again like this after so many failed runs had made Leon feel things. Things he didn’t think Luis was ready for. As far as Luis was concerned, the two of them had only known each other for less than a day, so he knew that there was no way that Luis felt the same. And Leon could accept that. The other man just wanted to have a good time.  

But even still, Luis’s stupid little giggle had cracked Leon’s heart wide open and he was helpless against the flood of emotions that brought.

“H-hey… Gimme some space, eh Sancho?” Luis’s chuckled, his face flushed adorably. If Leon didn’t know any better, he might have thought the other man looked nervous. Luis grumbled at him as he wiggled out of his jacket.

His white dress shirt had already come loose out of his jeans and had ridden up to expose a wide strip of the tanned skin and the thick dark hair spread over his belly.

He looked up at Leon from beneath unfairly long eyelashes and bit down on his swollen bottom lip. “You just gonna stare,” his voice was low and smokey, “Or are you gonna help me out here?”

Luis arched his hips up enough to dislodge Leon from his waist pushing the other man back enough to reach his own belt and unbutton his jeans.

“Whatever,” Leon snorted gracelessly before grabbing a hand full of the other man’s jeans. He tugged them off with enough force to nearly pull Luis off the sofa with them, leaving Luis in just his wrinkled, filthy dress shirt and boxer briefs.

Luis cackled and flailed around for anything to hold on to. “A little rough don’t you think?”

“Oh, you don’t like it rough?” Leon asked, eyes roaming over all the newly uncovered skin now on display. And he might have been a little impatient. It had been a while even by his standards and even then, none of them even came close to Luis Serra Navarro.

“Could have fooled me. Fuck… You’re gorgeous.” Leon said out loud before he could stop himself and Luis just could not resist preening for him.

It was more than obvious that Luis knew just how attractive he was. He had never been particularly shy about it. And at that moment, he just laid there, sprawled underneath Leon. Watching him with dark eyes as Leon fumbled with belts and clasps, pouches, and holsters like a loser, all while he leisurely stroked himself off. Snickering at Leon, who might have been a little distracted and a little frustrated with one particular strap that had decided to be difficult.

Leon rolled his eyes and tugged hard enough to hear a ripping sound. He sighed. To be fair when this version of Leon Kennedy had gotten dressed this morning it had been for a mission and not for… well… this.

“You okay there, cowboy? Need some help?” Luis seemed sincere enough, even if there was laughter in his voice.

“Nah, I got it. You just keeping laying there and looking pretty.”

“Oh, that I can definitely do.”

Leon had the feeling that Luis would have given him a mock salute if his hands weren’t already preoccupied.

Finally, he got the damn thing loose and tossed it. “Some help you’d’ve been anyway.”

“Hmm… I do have another one ya know.” He said raising the hand he’d had resting behind his head for show.

“Yeah, well…” Leon’s voice was muffled by the end of one of his fingerless gloves that he was currently using his mouth to pull off.

“C’mon, Sancho!” Luis growled in a way that could almost pass for a whine. The Spaniard apparently had grown impatient with Leon’s quiet contemplation of his hip bones. “Are you trying to torture me? We don’t have all night.”

Leon looked down at him, really looked at him, taking him all in.  

It felt silly to even think it but, Luis truly was a dream come true.

One that he was willing to fight tooth and nail for, no matter how many times it took.

“Por el amor de Dios, Sancho…” Luis, ever impatient, wrapped one of his long legs around Leon’s waist. He used his foot at the small of Leon’s back to pull him forward so he could grab a handful of blond hair and tug him down for a kiss.

And then he gracelessly shoved his other hand down the front of Leon’s now open pants, into his underwear and wrapped those long fingers around him. Leon groaned loudly into the other man’s mouth, his hips twitching forward on reflex.

Leon struggled to push his own pants down his thighs before he wrapped both of his arms around Luis and pulled him impossibly closer trying to press every inch of their skin that he could together. They both moaned in unison. Luis adding something in Spanish that Leon’s muddled brain couldn’t be trusted to translate so another groan was all he could muster in return.

Luis, just as loud and expressive as he was with anything else, answered back with another groan of his own.

Leon knew the Leon of 2004 wouldn’t have had a clue what to do with the beautiful and very willing man underneath him. Leon was not proud of the man he’d been back then. He knows that Luis had been right to be wary of flirting with him.

It had taken years to untangle that particular fucked up mess of anxiety and self-loathing the military had left him in.

The Leon S. Kennedy of 2004 would have been too freaked out by the fact that there was another dick so close to his own to do anything worthwhile about it. But luckily for both of them, the Leon of 2014 was now fucked up in a new and more interesting ways and now had no time to entertain such bullshit. Which meant that now he had more than enough experience in that department. He was well over his bi-panic phase and was seated quite comfortably into his bi-disaster phase.

And now that he had another chance and an even younger body to use to his advantage and he was not going to waste it.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t nearly enough time to do all the things to Luis that he had been dreaming of. And this certainly was not his ideal venue for such a thing anyhow. There was also no time for any meaningful preparation. They would have their first time together but for now they would have to make do with the borrowed time and space they had.

“Oh f-fuck, Luis!” Leon groaned into the crook of Luis’s throat, shuddering at the spark of pleasure that shot up his spine when Luis rolled his hips up against his just so.

If he were honest, there wasn’t enough time for any of this. But after everything he had gone through, everything he had seen Luis go through, he wasn’t about to pass up this opportunity. If Luis was willing to risk it then so was he.

Luis babbled something low in Spanish that Leon was still in no mental state to translate, whimpered right next to his ear and it was like the sound vibrated down Leon’s spine and right to his dick. He was already leaking a crazy between them and this only made even wetter. It was more of a blessing than a curse however, seeing as they probably weren’t within a hundred miles of any proper lubricant.

Every slip and slide of their skin was electric and addicting. Every increasingly desperate sound he was able to pull out of Luis only made him want more.

“Joder. Por favor... eres tan buena. Estoy tan cerca, cariño.” Ended with a whine that Luis would probably never admit to Leon would be playing on repeat in his mind for years to come.

“God, you’re so fucking hot.” Leon slurs the words, rocking his hips back into Luis’s in time, their cocks slipping against each other perfectly. He had to admit that the Spanish, the accent was really doing it for him. He was practically drooling against the side of Luis’s neck before latching on to spot right underneath his chin dragging his teeth a bit before sinking in.

The other man giggled in response to the praise and it was simultaneously the most ridiculous and most endearing thing Leon had ever heard.

And well, that was Luis Serra Navarro in a nutshell, wasn’t it?

That thought only made Leon hold on to him even tighter.

When Luis came it was with the softest, most fragile sound Leon had ever heard.

And Leon was an absolute mess for this man, twitching and cursing through his own orgasm not a but a few moments later.

As they laid practically on top of each other on a sofa that definitely was not big enough for two grown men of their stature and panted against each other’s sweat damp skin, Leon couldn’t help but try and catalogue every moment of what they had just done together.

Okay, maybe he was more than a little obsessed.

Curled into Luis’s side, Leon watched as the bastard smoked leisurely. His thick, dark hair was wild, a few sweat soaked strands framed his handsome face, eyes closed and long, lashes fluttered against high cheek bones. The Spaniard looked the epitome of vice and debauchery and Leon adored him for it.

He knew in that moment that he had done the right thing coming back here again… and again… and again. Damn the risks. Leon would burn the whole world to the ground if it meant he got to keep this beautiful man. If he got to have him for the rest of his life, he would do anything.

And wasn’t that a dangerous revelation.

Just how far was he willing to go?

They could just leave now. They could find a boat. Leave this place together. No Ada. No… Ashley.

No Ashley.

Leon couldn’t lie and say he hadn’t ever considered it.

What if that was the solution? What if that was the only way to make this work?

He wasn’t infected. Luis wasn’t infected. They were free. They could just go.

They didn’t even have to go back to the States. They could go anywhere. Change their names. Start over.

Leon had made plenty of unsavory connections in his time as a lapdog for the government. It wouldn’t be difficult.

“Leave the girl. She’s lost no matter what.”

Luis even told him about the amber this time. Maybe they could even get Ada to help. It wasn’t like Leon didn’t know how all of this was going to play out anyway. He had lived it many times already. One way or another Ada would get the amber, maybe at least this time Leon could get something out of it.

Before all of this, he had missed Luis sure, but he had barely known the other man. The despair of never having gotten the chance had been enough for him to risk his life over and over again just to try and save him. But now that he did know Luis, Leon could not fathom what lengths he wasn’t willing to go to get what he wanted.

He had lived years past this point in his life already. He knew that there wasn’t anything to look forward to if he continued down the same path.

Leon cuddled even closer to the warm body lying next to him and buried his nose into the other man’s hair. Underneath the smell of sweat and smoke he could smell a lingering hint of the other man’s cologne and it calmed his hectic thoughts.

Even if Leon could somehow stomach the idea of leaving Ashley here on her own to fend for herself until they realized that Leon was gone and sent someone else to try and save her, there was the matter of convincing Luis to go along with it. And wasn’t saving Ashley the reason Luis was even here with him right now? Luis could have left them both high and dry hours ago. Found Ada and left with her with neither of them none the wiser.

But he had stayed. Because it was the right thing to do. Or… as Leon had heard him say many, many times by now…

“I just want to feel good about myself. Make amends. Something like that.”

“En qué estás pensando, mi vida?” Luis didn’t even bother to open his eyes when he offered Leon a pull from his half-spent cigarette. To which Leon answered with a curious quirk of his eyebrow before he took the man up on his offer. “Puedo sentirte pensando desde aquí.”“Qué crees que estoy pensando?” Leon asked bravely after he exhaled curls of smoke into the air above them, laughter in his voice. Luis always teased him mercilessly about his accent. Although lately he’d had nothing but time to practice. Luis naturally became his unwitting teacher whenever he was tired, or upset, or excited.  

“Creo que estás pensando en mí, por supuesto.”

Leon just hummed as he traced gentle patterns into the soft dark hair on Luis’s stomach. The other man shuttered delicately against him, and Leon couldn’t remember ever having felt so content in this life. It was pretty ironic considering where they were.

Luis squirmed again. Ticklish then. Leon filed this information away for another time. But at that moment, he couldn’t help but notice how beautiful Luis was. It was like years had melted off of him. Leaving behind a man that Leon had only gotten small glimpses of before from behind tired eyes and feigned bravado.

This was the Luis that the man hadn’t gotten the chance to be. Here was a man still obvious of all the ways Leon had failed him and probably would fail him again until he finally got it right.

Would Luis forgive him if he knew what he was considering?

They had spent so much time together now that Leon already knew the answer.

Nonetheless, this was the first time they had gotten this far. Leon couldn’t help but feel hopeful that his time might work out. That he would finally figure it out. A way to save both Ashely and Luis.

“You think I’m gonna give up that easy?”

“I’m going to get you out of here, Luis.” And Leon was proud of the way his voice had not cracked there. “You and Ashley.”

Mist gray eyes blinked open, a contented smile on the handsome face. “Damn.”

Leon’s face fell and confusion took over. “What is it?”

“It’s… it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.” Luis said all of sudden he looked bashful.

“Nothing, huh? I just made a bold declaration. A grand gesture.” Okay, maybe it was more of a grand promise of a grand gesture. “Don’t get all shy on me now, Don Quixote.”

Luis’s eyes lit up like the moon on a clear night. “Don… Oh, my sweet Sancho. Now I know for sure that I want to keep you.”

Leon chuckled, realizing that though this was not the first time either of them had used such pet names for each other, neither of them had ever said them like this.

“How could you know so well the key to my heart, querido?” Luis’s hand on the back of Leon’s neck pulled him in so he could kissed him deeply. “You’ve done it now.” Luis kissed him again. “Now you’ll never be rid of me.”

Leon smiled into yet another kiss, “Promises. Promises.”  

“Hey, does this make me like one of your Bond girls?”

Leon choked on his laughter, “What?”

God, Leon hoped he was right.

---------

Krauser’s knife had cut through Luis’s belly like butter. And the sound that came out of Leon’s mouth was one that isn’t even recognizable to him as being human.

The bitterness of his failure and despair consumed him as he watched Luis stumble in a daze as he tried and failed to hold onto his own innards. Krauser, more considerate than Leon ever remembered him being, was kind enough to let Leon watch as his partner fell to his knees and coughed up a mouthful of blood so dark it almost looked black in the low light of the cavern.

“Sloppy!” The major growled and Leon was still so stunned and horrified by the sight in front of him that he didn’t even notice when his own throat was slit.

Krauser tutted before he sauntered away with his prize. “What a disappointment.”

[You Are Dead. Reload Save? Quit?]

When Leon finally does kill Krauser, Luis held him as he cried.

The victory and sorrow was short lived, however. Because less than an hour later Leon found himself on his back as he slowly bled out into the dirt, his fingers going numb as they stubbornly held on to Luis’s limp hand. A plan for what he would do differently next time was already taking shape in his fading mind.

[You Are Dead. Reload Save? Quit?]

“Hey, hey! Luis! Talk to me! What are we looking at?”

“I… uh…

“Hey, look at me. I’m right here. You’re not alone, alright. Not anymore. We’re partners, yeah?”

“Partners?” Luis looked surprised, confused. Shit. Luis was bleeding from his hairline from a wound on his head. Leon couldn’t even remember if they had even talked about being partners this run. Did they even go to the cabin this time?

“Yeah. And I need my partner right now. Run me the plan again. From the top.”

And he did. He even only slurred his words a little. Only slipped between English and Spanish a couple of times but Leon had gotten it for the most part.

Now, Leon lay there on the ground, his laughter near hysterical. He was bleeding from a wound that would eventually kill him. Fuck it all. Luis’s plan had actually worked. Or it would have worked if Leon hadn’t fucked it up.

“Sh-shit.” He wheezed. “Luis? Fuck. Luis!”

“Fuck. I’m sorry. I’m s-sorry.”

[You Are Dead. Reload Save? Quit?]

One minute he was ushering Ashley through yet another wooden door, the next he was being flung through the air. The only other sign he got that something had gone oh so wrong was the sound of Luis’s choked off yelp of surprise and Ashley’s scream.

“Oh…shit! Luis?” Leon crawled to the edge of the cliff. “You gotta be kidding.” Voice cracking in a mixture of exhaustion and defeat. He wasn’t even able to see down far enough to find him.

“Leon!”

[You Are Dead. Reload Save? Quit?]

They were on their way to the chief’s house when they realized that they weren’t going to be able to outrun the bastard with the chainsaw. But Luis was the one who got clipped by him this time. All because Leon was too slow to reload his shotgun.

In a frustrated rage, Leon unloaded every round he had into the bastard’s face though in end it did nothing to bring his partner back. Instead, all it did was leave him completely out of ammo by the time group of Ganados out for his blood caught up to him.

[You Are Dead. Reload Save? Quit?]

This time they were separated by the explosion in the town square and for some reason the bell tower fell in between them.

And that just didn’t make sense.

This had never happened before, and Leon just couldn’t understand how it could have happened.

They had done this dance so many times now that they were almost in sync. What had they done differently this time? What had he said to make Luis think it was a good idea to walk just that few feet to the right without him?

He could rack his brain all he wanted but in the end all he could do was listen as the pack of infested wolves finally caught up to Luis on the other side.

Digging his hands into his dust covered hair, Leon sobbed out in defeat. Then he took a calming breath and then another before he found a spot on the ground to sit and calmly wait for his turn.

[You Are Dead. Reload Save? Quit?]

"Ay, Dios… Ay, Dios… Mierda! Lo siento, lo siento mucho, mi amor."

“It’s o-okay. H-hey it’s okay, Luis. I’ll… I’m gonna c-come back for you, okay. I’ll… I’ll come back.”

“Leon?”

“J-just wait for me… please…” “Ay, Dios! No, no... Por favor, no. Q-que voy a h-hacer...”

[You Are Dead. Reload Save? Quit?]

Luis shouldn’t have even been down here. The Verdugo was supposed to have been his fight.

[You Are Dead. Reload Save? Quit?]

Leon had lost count of how many times he had done this by now. How many times he had found himself stood in this very room. Usually, he was with Luis, but they had been separated by bad luck. Salazar had Ashley. Leon was just so frustrated that he knew he had become extra snappy.

He had done this dance with Ada before. It was one of his clearest memories of Spain. Seeing the woman again after six years of nightmares and regrets. Leon really hated how attached he could get to people who never gave a shit about him in the first place.

He could only hope that Luis would turn out to be different.

But right now, he was tired and because of that he had been sloppy.

Ada hissed when his knife sliced into her arm. And Leon is shocked by the sight of her blood on his blade. It’s not the first time he’s seen her bleed, but it is the first time he was the one responsible for it.

“Fuck.” He sheathed his combat knife and is already moving toward her to help before he can think that his help may not be wanted at all.

But Ada made that clear with the gun pointed at his chest and the look of surprise she made a poor attempt at hiding with a scowl.

“Not a bad move. Real smooth.” She still had her gun trained on him though, her eyes hard. He can see that her arm is still slowly bleeding. At least the cut wasn’t deep enough for serious damage then. He wasn’t going for the kill after all, but he had never meant to hurt her either.

“Let me…”

“I’m fine.” She looked embarrassed if he were being honest.

He had been very much in his own head since he lost Ashley and lost track of Luis. Fighting on auto pilot. It was dangerous and stupid he knew it but he was so thoroughly compromised and Ada seemed to just know that something was up with him.

Her script was the same, however. She tells him to leave Ashley. But what he wasn’t expecting was when she told him that she knew about him and Luis.

Leon was too shocked to convincingly deny it and she just looked at him with something like pity in her eyes. She tried to convince him that Luis was trouble and that he couldn’t be trusted. That Leon should get away from him while he still could.

Which was rich coming from her.

“You’re kidding, right? You’re telling me not to trust someone?”

“I would know, wouldn’t I?” She said, grunting when he wiped away the blood to reveal the cut underneath. She had finally given in and let him try and patch her up. His way of apologizing and her way of getting close enough to him to speak right into his ear her poison against whatever spell she believed Luis had put him under.

“I know about him working for Umbrella… Just like you did.”

She doesn’t look surprised at that. It was old news after all.  

Leon scoffs. “I’m well beyond that.”

Ada sniffed and sized him up. “I suppose you are.” She gave him a look and now he knew for sure that she knew. “That’s a shame. Still the same Leon S. Kennedy I know and…”

They both still when they hear footsteps on the other side of the door. Leon would know them anywhere and Ada didn’t seem concerned once she took note of Leon’s reaction.

“Sancho? You in here?”

Ada give him her usual mysterious and cryptic non-goodbye just in time for Luis to find Leon alone.

“Hey, c’mon I know where they took our princess.”

They made it all the way to Saddler only this time Luis died in the sanctuary mere feet from his laboratory.

Ada made her appearance too late to stop it from happening and Leon couldn’t help but wonder if that had been a case of unfortunate timing or a part of her plan all along. Not that it really mattered anymore now.

This time when she yelled for him to move, he didn’t. She would just have to watch this time as Saddler ends him too.  

[You Are Dead. Reload Save? Quit?]

[Quit]

“What?”

“What the fuck…”

He stumbles out of the machine. Catching himself on the slick stainless steel. He stands there for a moment, staring at his hands. His vision is blurring, there are tears in his eyes.

“Leon?”

It was Salazar this time. Luis had pushed him, but he hadn’t been fast enough to get himself out of the way in time. The moldy son of a bitch just wouldn’t give Leon the chance to get near enough to Luis to try and stop the bleeding.

“I need to go back,” he says quietly. “Send me back.”

“Wait. No. I’m not just going to keep…”

“Send me back!”

The doctor gives him a stern look. “I said. No.”

“Every time! Every fucking time!” Leon stops and takes a breath, then another and runs his hands through his already messy hair. “Every time he dies it’s because of me.”

The face of the woman standing in front of him is unreadable. She is quiet for a moment before finally speaking again.

“If that’s true, what do you plan to do to change that, huh?”

Leon looks back at her like she had just said something vulgar.

“If he’s just going to keep…”

“I have to go back.” Leon pleads. “Dr. Dawson, listen if I just…”

“Leon… I can’t just keep sending you back. I told you… this technology isn’t exactly well tested. You shouldn’t even be here. I shouldn’t even be here!”

“Well, think of this as your tests. I’ll keep being your guinea pig… or lab rat or what the fuck ever. You got a waiver for me to sign or something?”

“What am I supposed to tell the DSO when this goes wrong? Huh? Because it’s going to go wrong, Leon. I mean look at you. You’re barely keeping it together as is!”

“Please. I’m this close to figuring it out. I know it.”

“What if there is no figuring it out. What if… what if he’s supposed to die?”

Leon’s eyes were bloodshot, red rimmed and sunken into dark circles. He looked haggard and completely hollowed out. Like he was already a bottle in and half way though another. He was so tired he was even slurring his words.

The two of them had been at this for quite some time. And there was no telling how long he had been spending back there every time before he came back.

“No. No he’s not.” He is not proud of the way his voice cracks then but he’s too desperate for pride now. “The only reason he…” He licks pointlessly at dry, cracked lips. “The only reason he didn’t make it was because he was trying to help me.”

“And that’s supposed to change somehow?”

“I won’t let him this time.”

“You said it yourself! You already tried that! And every time he…”

“It’ll work this time!” Leon yells. “It has to.”

“What about you?”

“I don’t care about me!” Leon said.

“What about Ashley?”

He pauses at that, blues eyes widen like he had been slapped.

“I… I can’t do this.” He hisses from between grit teeth. “I can’t keep doing this. Living like this.” Leon slumps down into a chair nearby, his head in his hands. “It’s… it’s not fair.” His shoulders are shaking, he’s trying not to be obvious about it but it’s clear he’s crying. “You don’t understand… h-how fucking miserable this is.” He growled the words, spitting venom, his hand clenched in front of him. “To have to keep feeling like… this! To be this close…”

She sighs and takes a seat in front of him.

“So… you’re just going to trade Ashley for him?” She asks, already knowing the answer. “Because you told me that Doctor Serra was the only reason you and Ashley Graham made it out of Spain in the first place. If he doesn’t help, then… Then what?”

“I… I know what to do now. I can just…”

“Okay.” She said leaning back in her chair, spreading her hands as if to say ‘go on’. “What’s the plan, Agent Kennedy?”

The silence that spread between them tells her all she needs to know.

“Leon…”  

“What do you want me to say? What do I need to do to convince you, huh? I’ll do it.”

“Well, you could actually listen to me for starters.”

The look on his face isn’t enough to deter her.

“I never told you why I started all this in the first place, did I?” She says, purposely not looking right at him. “You’re not the only one who’s lost people, y’know.”

Leon looks up at her, sniffling.

“I tried too. And tried. And tried. And tried.”

Another tear escapes those big, sad blue eyes and rolls down into the stubble on his chin. It truly does hurt her to have to do this. She had hoped that maybe he could have succeeded where she had not. But now she see how much more damage she’s done, and she wishes she could take it all back. She’s let this go on much too long. She feels sick with what she’s done. Dangled hope in front of a desperate man, only to snatch it away again.

Still, maybe she could at least do this much.

“It was no use. There was always something I didn’t see until it was too late.” She shrugged. “It was like… no matter what I did, it was always going to happen. The only thing I did was watch her die over and over again in new and more fucked up ways. I just made it worse every time.”

“No.” Leon shook his head. “NO. Just because you couldn’t do it doesn’t mean…”

“I’m not going to keep doing this to you, Leon. I’m not sending you back again!”

Leon pushes up from his chair so fast she doesn’t even have time to register that his hands are now balled up in the lapels of her lab coat, her feet dangling inches off the ground.

“Sh-shit! Leon!” She has somehow let herself forget just how tall and intimidating the government special agent was.

“I’m not asking.” He growls, spittle spraying her face. “I’m a fucking… government s-sanctioned k-killing machine. What is the point of all of that shit… they put me through if I can’t even save one person that’s important to me for once?”

“Leon…” She says slowly reaching up to grip one of his wrists. “I know… I know it hurts. So much sometimes that you can’t breathe, right? But…”

“He’s saved my life over and over again and I can’t even save him once?” His grip on her falters, her feet once again on the ground. “He’s just a fucking scientist. I’m the soldier. What’s the point then, huh?” He gestures to the machine. “What’s even the point of this if you can’t use it to change anything?”

“Maybe… that is the point… that there isn’t a point. Or a reason. It just is.” She shrugs. Or as much as she can in his grip. “I couldn’t watch her die again. And… I don’t think you can do it again either.”

They’re in a standoff. Neither one of them is willing to back down.

“He wouldn’t want you to do this.” She says finally.

“How do you know what the hell he’d want?” He said finally releasing her with undo force, she stumbles back only a step. A frown on her face. She’d been reckless. She had read his profile. But she hadn’t been allowed access to his psyche evals. She understood why but still she shouldn’t have gone through with this.

“Because if he’s done half the things you said he has, then I know enough.”

She watches something change behind his eyes then. And suddenly, without saying another word, he leaves.

“Leon! I’m sorry!” The knot in her stomach gets heavier.

That wasn’t the look of a man that was willing to let go of anything.

---------

It was either the neighborhood bar or home and since Leon wasn’t exactly in the mood to be seen by anyone right now, home it was.

It’s just after midnight when he stumbles into his apartment and goes to the bathroom to wash his face. He feels like shit and looks like shit according to his fingerprint smudged, toothpaste splattered bathroom mirror.

“Just another day in the exciting life of special agent Leon S. Kennedy.” He snorts and goes to take off his fingerless gloves and stops cold. He looks at his hand in shock.

There is a silver ring resting on his ring finger.

He blinks at it dumbly.

---------

“Nervous habit?” He nodded toward Luis’s hands, where the other man was absently twisting one of the rings on his finger.

Luis’s laugh was nervous one. He had been caught. “You noticed, eh?”

Leon chuckled softly. “Only a bit.”

“It helps.”

“Oh?”

“You should give it a try.” Luis smiled at him, and something grew warm low in his belly at the sight. He really shouldn’t have been entertaining this, but he was a weak man.

“Here.” Luis said and reached for his hand. Leon allowed it and watched as Luis slipped one of his rings onto his finger. “There. Now we both have one.” He could tell that Luis was trying to appear suave and nonchalant but the blush that was dark enough to be seen on his deep tanned skin was more than a bit telling.

Leon remembered thinking, “This guy can’t be serious.”

---------

Back in Leon’s cramped bathroom in front of his dirty mirror, he is trembling with emotion. He twists the ring gently on his finger and stares at it with blurring eyes. The first sob of many breaks through pushes through.

How is this possible?

“What’s the point if nothing ever changes?”

What is there between us, if not a little annihilation?

[bonesandthebees]

this question seems a little silly to me but alas google was no help and you seem like something of a concert aficionado, but i just got tickets to an outdoor lovejoy venue and have no idea how it works when it’s outside since the only concerts ive been to are indoor venues or free outdoor ones (which def isn’t the same) and am happily overthinking the hell out of it. ive been to one other lovejoy show (still riding that high) and was as close to the mic as physically possible without being on stage, which was just from getting there very early. is getting close to the stage the same principle at outdoor venues? is there even a line to queue in still? Do they have a “doors open at 7!” moment when there’s no doors? are people like. more or less insane about getting there wildly early when it’s outdoors. i just have no clue what to expect so any little bits of knowhow would be hugely appreciated <3 also I love your writing

hi this question isn't silly at all! the only outdoor venue I've been to for lovejoy was a music festival, so if you're talking about a music festival I can help with that? but also all music festivals have different rules and setups for things like that so what applied for mine might not apply for yours

for my music festival, the entire festival opened up at 12 noon. I knew what stage lovejoy was playing on, and they weren't going to perform until 6 or 7pm I think. so while I didn't try to show up super early, my friend and thought the trolley that took us downtown was going to take longer than it would so we ended up there around 11 am. people had just begun to line up to be let into the festival, so we met up with some twitter mutuals of mine and lined up. now keep in mind this was just to get into the festival, the stage lovejoy was going to be on was further in the grounds.

so when 12 noon hit I was like the 5th person let in I think? and I just sprinted for the lovejoy stage. no one was there yet so I claimed a spot at the barrier, and the rest of the people I knew trickled in behind me and we all claimed our spots. from there it was just a matter of waiting at the barrier and not giving up our spots there until lovejoy came on. now regardless of venue type, all gigs are going to have different barrier variations. some barriers are going to be only a few feet from stage, some, like, at that music festival i was at, are going to be a bit further back. theres nothing you can do about that, but it's very rare to be so close to the stage you could practically touch the mic. that usually means there isn't an actual barrier fence for the stage, and the only time i've been to a gig like that was the lovejoy bowery gig in nyc last december

so basically, at least with the music festival i went to, there's no real 'queue' unless you count the line to get into the festival when the doors open. basically you just run and try to claim a spot at barrier as fast as possible. if lovejoy isn't performing until later in the day, you're either going to have a hell of a time waiting in the sun all day (although of course if the people around you aren't dicks they should be willing to hold your spot and let you come back to it if you need to get food or use the restroom or something), or because there's so much shuffling of crowds between performances as different artists come on and off the stage you have a higher chance of being able to slip closer to the front if you didn't get there at the start. (i'm not saying to shove past people to force your way through. i'm just saying other people might leave the barrier after the artist they're there for has performed, and you can swoop in and take their spot)

overall I'd just look up what time the venue opens and plan to get there an hour early or so if lovejoy is performing later in the day. if they're performing earlier, you might be more likely to see a typical 'queue' to get into the venue. and even if you do get barrier, there's a likely chance you're not gonna be that close to the stage as you described again. i'm still chasing the high of that bowery gig. best of luck to you though!

[atlasllm]

I know you're blog title is probably exaggerating, but I wanna know exactly what moments and what about them made you cry. Hold nothing back. I'm willing to read a Bible's worth of this stuff. I love hearing about how people emotionally connect to pieces of fiction in a positive way, especially if it's something near and dear to me like Sonic.

nope i am not exaggerating in the slightest lol, i've kept count for the past year

That being said, I don't remember ALL of each moments that made me cry, but I answered a similar question a year ago (back then the count was only 6 times)

I cried because Sonic reminds me of a very obscure comfort character of mine and one of the 2 people I talk to who know about this character confirm that he is exactly like him, which hits deep because they both are optimistic punk guitarists who would definitely fit My Chemical Romance's "Danger Days" album due to their life philosophies

I made a new friend recently One of my friends has been a Sonic fan longer than I've been alive, and since I got into Sonic post-Forces they said that they were glad the first game I can experience be released is Sonic Frontiers because of how massively amazing it is in comparison to how the franchise has been for the past decade

Catching up with a friend since they're working and I'm in college and they allowed me to infodump on Discord call about Sonic Frontiers... I forget WHY exactly it made me cry at the moment but like, god this game was so good and I was only WATCHING gameplay

I think more recent ones I remember have been:

Outright crying because it took me so many hours to finally beat the Master King Koco Trial (I have video of this but I don't think I'm ready to use vids of me crying for internet clout yet LMAO)

Hearing I'm Here (Revisited) for the first time and hearing the instrumental + Kellin Quinn's vocals as Eggman aims the rifle, seeing Sonic grow so powerful he defeats The End in one shot, floats through space unconscious, and lands back down onto the planet okay and finally able to be with his friends again

I'm not 100% sure about these ones, but I guarantee-ish moments I have cried were:

Watching Penny "Snapcube" Parker play Sonic Frontiers (like I've said, this is the first Sonic game I've actively followed coming out + would have just watched let's plays before realizing it looked so fun to play that I wanted it for Christmas) and her playing the entire Chaos Island storyline where Sonic admits Tails is basically his little brother and he'll miss him when he goes out on his own adventure

Sage's sacrifice + hearing Dear Father

That shot in the original ending (Penny played Hard Mode so it was getting me antsy enough to see what the ending would be after the bullet hell section) where it's just Sonic flying through the air like a shooting star; the shot of Sonic being a literal star coupled with the specific part of I'm With You that plays just looked so incredibly beautiful

While once again I'm not sure if I can name specific moments, but Sonic Frontiers is genuinely one of the best experiences I've had. For the longest time I've only played free-to-play MMOs like Wizard101 and Toontown (and also Minecraft Bedrock edition), and while I have yet to catch up to Wizard101, I've never really gotten attatched to triple A games.

Watching Penny play Sonic Frontiers, after ages of hearing that "oh this old Sonic game is the best" "eugh these past few Sonic games are terrible" and seeing a human just genuinely enjoy this fresh new game, especially as the first Sonic game that I as a newer fan was seeing experience in real time, just filled me with so much joy. Seeing each update come out to make it better and better, and seeing Frontiers completely blow itself out of the water and put Sonic on-par with other triple A games instead of being seen as a joke 24/7, it made the experience of Sonic Frontiers being my first real Sonic game so much more sweeter. And heck, it's incredibly accessible! Wizard101 is basically a card game simulator and even I with a keyboard was able to 100% it, play hard mode, and complete the DLC!

I think that in itself, seeing Frontiers as my first Sonic game and seeing how good it is, just makes the entire experience really emotional for me. How so many of my friends who've been fans longer than me are excited I get to experience the same joy they felt when they first became Sonic fans. It's like seeing an old friend that you haven't seen for a long time mixed with the sheer joy of waking up on Christmas morning during your childhood.

I have a lot of feelings about this game ;w;

EDIT: OH OH that part where Sonic grabs the giant sword and slashes Knight in half coupled with the ending of Find Your Flame 100% made me cry too

[werewolf-kat]

How can Google's decisions for Chrome get any WORSE? What on earth is this?!

The gist: Google wants to implement a "feature" for website owners/developers to be selective on who can see their website. These devs (or their malicious higher-ups) could block out or limit Firefox users, Safari users, open source or indie browsers, etc. from their website; and worst of all, they could block or limit as far as the device you use.

Major concerns:

How can people even WANT this other than corrupt companies trying to force competing users to tediously go through the needed hoops to access the website? There's already the web design standard of optimizing load times to be welcoming for visitors. This ain't going to encourage anyone to have interest in your website (or its company by extension). It really will be a test of consumer trust.

Worryingly, lazy or more apathetic web developers might use this to dance around compatibility challenges in their websites. I've seen my fair share of these types of devs in the community who take the frustration of browser compatibilities too far. They're a minority (thankfully, seen in the video is the Chrome repository getting completely flooded with criticisms). But, yeah, pro-tip to web developers: Learn to prioritize the layout and order of your content in plain HTML first before you jump into design. And then build the CSS from there in a "ranking" of completely compatible with all browsers, to less compatibilities. So you can manage and keep track of how your site will look on anything out there.

The sheer fear and worry for accessibility in web design that I'm feeling from this, man. Again, it's not just browsers... Malicious entities making decisions for websites could block out or further limit accessibility devices (if they're counted) because of the extra work that comes with ensuring a website is accessible to a wide range of disabled or impaired users. I can't fully tell if screen reader software could somehow get affected, but who knows how far Google will want to go in this nightmare of a proposal.

Read more on this situation:

"It is also interesting to note that the first use case listed is about ensuring that interactions with ads are genuine. While this is not problematic on the surface, it certainly hints at the idea that Google is willing to use any means of bolstering its advertising platform, regardless of the potential harm to the users of the web."

Vivaldi Article

||

"The proposal threatens the free and open internet in a number of ways, but one of the biggest revolves around the fact that should there be a central server that attests to whether a browser can be trusted or not, it means that anything non-standard will not be trusted. In other words, new browsers would not be trusted, and legacy software would no longer be able to access much of the internet after a certain length of time. Given that it verifies the integrity of the browser, it could also technically block certain extensions (such as Adblock) if Google were to go down that route."

XDA Developers

||

"What makes the fingerprinting process somewhat insidious is that, unlike web cookies, no residue is left on a user’s computer – everything can be stored in the cloud. The fingerprint data can be collected even if users run private or incognito browsing sessions. Worse yet, each user’s fingerprint can be shared across websites without the user’s knowledge."

Silicon Angle

[boliv-jenta]

When the West Was Wild

Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

Silva x OFC (no description, a last name is given in later chapters)

Word count:2.1k

Warnings: violence, blood, family death, one smutty line.

Story summary: A women making her own way in the lawless West has her quiet night interrupted by a stranger in need. While helping him she finds a few unmet needs of her own.

Chapter summary: The man at her door is no longer a stranger but how familiar is she willing to let him get?

The first few days passed quite easily. She learned pretty quickly that her guest and Mary had something in common. There are both stubborn as anything. Mary had returned and strapped up his ankle. Two thick pieces of wood framed it, helping him bare his weight. That coupled with the large sturdy stick Thomas had fashioned into a support, helped Silva to get around. They had moved her spare cot into the barn. Silva hobbled over there to sleep. She took him meals and books to read. He can into the house to wash up. It was a nice rountine. On the fourth day he brought her flowers, not the ones that grew on her land, ones from further up the trail. They were neat tidied with some roots. When Mary came over later that day, to change his bandage, he presented her with a bunch too. Apparently, Thomas had been skeptical about Silva's intentions, as if he was trying to charm them. Mary guessed he was just feeling shown up because he hadn't brought her flowers home in a long time.

Within two weeks, Silva began to get around easier. He came over to the cabin for his meals most of the time. The polite small talk gave way to free discussion. They exchanged details of their lives. Silva didn't go into much detail. His parents were from Argentina, he was born in Mexico, he didn't remember living there, he was barley walking when they made the journey North. His sister was born in America, she was much younger than him. The poor soul was only eight when she passed, the flu, his parents were gone too. Silva didn't dwell on it so she didn't press. Her heart ached for his loss.

For his gruffness, Silva was surprisingly sweet. He was an attentive listener. He praised her for surviving out here, for staying when she could have ran back home to her father. The praise made her cheeks burn. It had been a long time since a handsome man had complimented her. Silva was undoubtedly a handsome man, she caught herself admiring him more times than she cared to admit. Their meals together were fast becoming her favourite time of the day. That why she was so upset when he didn't show for dinner one night. Grabbing a lamp and throwing a shawl around her shoulders, she walked out into the chilly night air. A small sigh of relief left her when she saw his shadow moving in the barn. Should she be this attached to a stranger? She pondered that as she made her way to the barn. It only took seconds for him to open the door once she knocked, an apology ready on his lips. "I'm sorry. I lost track of time."

Looking down, she noticed the chisel and mallet in his hands. She made a mental note to have a word with Thomas after he said he had cleared the barn of anything that could be used as a weapon.

"I'll put these away." When he turned back to do so, she saw what he had been working on. In the middle of the old barn sat a large chunk of a cedar. The bottom was untouched it's bark still in place, rising out from the middle of it, rearing up, was a beautifully carved horse.

"You made this? It's stunning. A work of art." Holding the lamp closer she took in all the details. Such skill.

"I hope you don't mind me using the wood. I got a little bored. I thought the work might do my shoulder good. I need to get it moving again."

"Did it?"

"A little, thank you."

"The books weren't to your liking?" She nodded to the untouched stack.

"I wouldn't know. I can't read them."

The man was well spoken, in two languages in fact, it didn't even cross her mind that he mind not be able to read. She really needed to try harder to put herself into other's shoes. "Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't know. I feel so stupid."

"You are far from stupid. Reading is your passion. You wanted to share it. You're kind to do so." She was glad than he was still putting the tools away so he couldn't see her blush.

"Would you mind if I...nevermind." She suddenly felt more nervous than she had when he woke up in her home and she didn't know if he would try to kill her or not.

Tools neatly away, he turned to her. "Go on?"

"I was just going to ask if you would mind if I read to you. It's silly." She giggled like a young girl. Something she was far from. She was a fully grown woman, that was all to apparent by the heat that grew between her legs when he looked at her like that. Like he was utterly charmed by her.

"It's not silly. I would enjoy that." He smiled, it lit up his face, erasing some of the hardship written on it.

That became their new routine. Dinner and a story by the fire. They started with Alice in Wonderland. She could relate to being a stranger in a strange land. He could relate to Alice's confusion, he felt confused himself. He was well enough to leave, yet he stayed. He knew he shouldn't stay but he couldn't bring himself to leave. The wind whirled outside as he listened to her animated recital of a near nonsensical poem about a boy slaying a creature. Her passion for it was infectious, it made his heart light. The warmth from the fire wrapped around him with her words.

He awoke the next morning to find himself covered with a patchwork quilt. It smelled like her. He breathed deeply as she walked out of her room.

"Good morning. You fell asleep, I didn't want to wake you. I hope you don't mind." She tried to bury her nerves in politeness. Leave her to face life on the frontier herself and she was fine, ask her to look closer at the feelings she had for this man and she was a mess.

"Thank you. That was thoughtful of you." He stood folding the blanket gently.

A knock sounded at the door, peeking out of the curtains, she saw Thomas stood there. For a moment she worried what it looked like, a man in her home when they sun was barely up. Then she realised when she opened the door their would be two men in her home with the sun barely up. Silva could had knocked early just as Thomas was. Silva seemed to read what she was thinking as he smoothed his clothes and hair, trying to look a little less like he'd slept in his clothes here.

"Good morning Thomas. How are you?" She tried to sound bright and breezy again. Thomas only paused for a moment to glance at Silva.

"Mornin'. I was actually looking for Silva. I see now you've already seen him."

Blushing slightly she moved back, allowing Thomas to enter. "I have some deliveries to make. My partner is sick today, you up for giving me a hand? It'll only take a few hours."

"Sure, it's the least I can do." Silva nodded.

"Thank you. Meet me up at my place as soon as you are ready."

With that Thomas was gone, leaving them both in the mild discomfort at being caught in a slightly compromising position.

"I better go." Silva moved stiffly towards the door. "Thank you for allowing me to sleep. I was the best night's sleep I've had in a long while." He left just as quickly as Thomas had.

Once her chores were done, she had a moment in the afternoon to sir and read. Or she would be reading if she wasn't thinking of Silva and his 'best night's sleep in a long time'. The man had been nothing but polite in her company. Mary approved of him, which was no mean feat. The only thing that they had to hold against him, admittedly it was a large one, was the man he killed, in self defence. Which if they were holding that as a high crime, both Mary and Thomas were guilty of it too. She had never gotten any details beyond a man had tried to force himself on Mary, he'd then tried to kill Thomas when he intervened, his body was somewhere in the Mississippi and Mary prayed for their souls every night. Her hearted ached that they had to have that hanging over their heads. They did what they had to, just like Silva.

Before the men returned that evening she'd already decided that, if he wished, she would let sleep in the house. The small room next to hers was only home to her writing desk, it was supposed to be a nursery, when that ship sailed she made herself an office. What happed next only cemented her idea.

When the hour got late and there was not sign of Silva, she headed up the trail to see if Mary had any idea where they were. Breaking through the tree line and rounding the corner of their cabin, she was shocked to see Thomas's wagon was back. The horses were still hitched. Stroking her hand along the mane of the nearest one she looked at the wagon for clues. Nothing seemed out of order. Maybe Silva just got caught up in conversation with Thomas. Walking towards the house a cold shiver crept up her spine. The door was ajar. A shadow breaking the light pouring from it frightened her. Her hand founds it's way to the gun in her apron. She pulled the hammer back readying a round. Silva appeared at the door, his hands in the air as she drew the weapon on him. In the air and covered with blood.

"What happened? Where's Thomas?!" The gun trembled in her hands.

"In here." Thomas called. Lowering the gun, she barged passed Silva. Mary, was all she could think. Tears welled at the sight of Mary, safe and well, tending to a open wound in Thomas's back. "Thomas, what...?" The tears claimed the rest of her words.

"It looks worse than it is." He offered her a reassuring smile as he reached for her hand. "It would've been even worse if it wasn't for Silva here. He saved my life." There was a look of mutual respect shared between them. "I'm okay. Silva get her home safe." He took a log swing from the whiskey bottle in his hand.

"Mary?" She called. Mary walked to them ushered them to the door before whispering "He'll be fine. I'll keep it clean, keep the fever at bay. He doesn't like people seeing him not at his best."

"I'm always at my best." Thomas slurred slightly, the whiskey kicking in. Mary hugged her before shooing them further to the door.

Before Silva stepped out Mary grabbed his arm tightly. "Thank you."

A small smile tugged at his lips, he nodded sharply before stepping out into the night. With the horses safely stabled, they made their way to her cabin. Silva told her the story on the way. She had a feeling he was making it less dramatic for her sake. He told her a man had been laying in wait at the low hills that the road carved through. Once they passed him, he jumped to the wagon. His knife was draw, he sunk it straight into Thomas's back. Before he could wield it again. Silva shot him square in the chest. Stopping the wagon, Silva found the man's horse. He loaded his body back on it and sent the horse off running. Easier than trying to dispose of the body while caring for Thomas. The way Silva was so matter of fact about it all made the ache return to her heart. This all really was just part and parcel of his life. She longed to offer him some softness. Maybe she could start with a soft place to sleep.

"Silva, would you like to sleep in the house again? You could sleep on the Davenport tonight then we could bring your cot in tomorrow?" She tried to keep the hope out of her voice.

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble. I'd like that. Thank you."

Neither of them spoke about him leaving that night or the night after or for the next few weeks while he helped Thomas while he healed.

Once both Silva and Thomas were feeling string enough, they began fishing and hunting together, catching whatever they could preserve for winter. Silva became just as much a part of Thomas and Mary's life as he was becoming part of her's.

After one longer than planned trip Silva returned on a Friday night. Her favourite night, she had told him. He expected her to be in the modest bathroom when he arrived back. Instead her silhouette floated passed the window. 'Stars of the Summer Night' played softly inside as he approached the cabin. Rolling his heavy shoulders he dropped his bow and arrow by the door he noted his muddy boots, deciding to leave them there too before he joined her inside.

A wide smile spread across her face at the sight of him. These hunting trips with Thomas may be nessecary but he was starting to resent the time they took him away from her. Those smiles when he returned almost made it worth it.

"Do you like music?" She asked as twirled effortlessly around the space. He dress span out, raising the fabric up her legs a little. Her calves were shapely, her skin untouched by the sun was paler, a thin dusting of hair covered them. Her feet were bare. Her toes gracefully pointed as she spun on them.

Before his time with her he was a simple man, content to deal with what was rather than what could be. Lately, he started to look beyond. He noticed the beauty in the everyday. He took more pleasure in the simplest of things. Like the way she said his name. That it itself was the sweetest melody to him. He could dance all night to it.

"I do." He answered simply.

"Do you dance?"

"I have. Not that I was any good at it."

"You don't have to be good to enjoy it. I sound like a dying cat when I sing, I still do it."

Smiling, he couldn't help move closed to her, he was drawn to her more and more with each passing day.

"Would you like to dance?" She asked holding out her hand in a formal invitation.

He rubbed his hands on his well worn jeans, like the act could cleanse him, wash off all the blood, make him worthy of laying his hands on her. Once he raised his hands in front of him, she quickly guided them into place. One in her soft palm the other on her equally soft waist. Shame rose within him as he felt himself harden at the feel of her under his touch. She was beautiful, strong, smart, she deserved more appreciation that just the reaction of his baser instincts. He thought about the books she read to him. The words she explained to him. The elaborate ones that had complex, double meanings, the ones that sounded like a song from her lips. He searched for the one that he had taken a liking to when she told him. Adore. He adored her. He was completely enthralled by her. Another word she had taught him. A flutter pulsed in his chest at the thought that she might have taught him those words because she though he would need them. Or that she might feel them about him.

Shifting his hips to adjust himself, he settled her closer in his arms with still enough room in between to protect her honour and his modesty. Slowly they began to sway to the music. His barely covered toes, in his threadbare socks, occasionally stepping on hers.

Dreams of the summer night!

Tell her, her lover keeps watch!

While in slumbers light

She sleeps, my lady sleeps!

This was a dream to him, her in his arms, humming happily to the music. It'd had been a long time since he felt the pull of love in his chest. The sense that the whole world is fine as long as that person is with you. That was why he was still here, not to repay his debt, he wouldn't, couldn't leave her. Her light shone back on all these years that was alone. Cast out all the shadows so he saw it anew. All the times when having someone by his side would have made his world better. When he had to bury his parents in the same year. Then his little sister the following winter. Through every hardship he had faced. If she were there, if she had been his only love, things would have been so much better for him. He wondered again if she knew how he felt. She had asked him to dance, asked to read to him, to take him on journeys with her favourite stories, was she courting him? Would she be angry if her was bold enough to steal a kiss from her petal soft lips? Would she give herself to it? Let him take his pleasure? Feeling restless in his own skin, he needed an answer. When she looked up at him, eyes full of joy, he looked deep into them. His gaze kept her there, right where he wanted, he could easily close the space between them to press his lips to hers. He began to when..."Hello? Anybody home?" A voice boomed as a loud knock rang out around the cabin.

Both of them stated at the door like it was going to exploded any second. The shrapnel of their lives out there, ripping through their romantic moment in here.

"Go." She whispered. They had planned for this. There was a space behind the shelves in the pantry that he could fit into.

Giving him a moment to get into place she called out "Who is it please?"

"Sheriff Rockwood, Ma'am." Came an imposing voice from beyond the timber.

Her blood ran cold. Steading herself she moved to the door, opening it to find the Sheriff at the door and a deputy, still on his horse, on the trail, just behind her boarder of wild flowers, that the Sheriff's horse was currently grazing.

"Good evening, Sheriff Rockwood. Can I help you?"

"Not particularly. We're just checking the area. Had some trouble round her lately, on the road up there. We followed the trail down, spoke to your neighbours up there. Are you home alone Ma'am?"

She had noticed Silva's boots when she opened the door. It was a good bet Sheriff Rockwood did too. "No, my husband is in the bath. He was out hunting today, he's downright filthy."

"Oh, that's right, with your neighbour?" He pointed back up the trail.

"Yes. We're stocking up for winter." The Sheriff already knew where her 'husband' was today. She definitely had to be wary of this man.

The Sheriff gave another look over her shoulder into the cabin. "Alright then Ma'am. You have a good evening." Wishing him one back, she watch him leave. He was almost off the porch when he stopped. Her heart sank. "Oh and tell your husband to be careful travelling out that way."

"Thank you. I will. Goodnight now." She forced herself to close the door slowly rather than slam it like everything in her told her to. Slam it, shut them all out, run back to Silva, his arms, his waiting lips.

Silva returned from his hiding place a solemn look replaced the inviting from early. His once pouted lips set in a straight line. "We need to talk."

Tags @kirsteng42 @babydarkstar @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy @scorpio-marionette @sturkillerbase @harriedandharassed @aynsleywalker @mswarriorbabe80 @quica-quica-quica

[ikatako38]

8. Tako's Fic Commissions!

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