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kneelingshadowsalome · 10 months

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I Never Missed You 2/3 (Bodyguard!Ghost x F!Reader)

Word count: 7.3 k

Tags/warnings: 18+ only. Romance, eventual smut, fluff, light angst, banter, pining, flirting, minor injuries, major character death, HFN ending. Lady/Knight dynamic. Unequal pairing trope. Bodyguard AU. Reader is a rich bitch (how else could she afford a PPO?)

Summary: You hire a bodyguard to protect you and hunt down the one who's been sent to take your life. This man was your lawyer's first recommendation, and you never even looked through his file because you had better things to do. But it soon turns out that this man – this Simon Riley – is very talented... Talented in driving you crazy.

A/N: A three part fic based on this request. Smutty smut ahead in this chapter. Brace yourselves for impact.

Part 1

You have to admit that you look dashing tonight.

And not because you want to turn people's heads at the party… But because you want him to look at you like you're the most forbidden snack he will never have.

It's selfish and petty, and you're just seeking attention. But at least you have the balls to admit it: you want Simon Riley to drool after you. You want this man on his knees. And nothing else has worked except that bra.

So you turn to the world's oldest weapon. A woman's weapon. Seduction.

"I'd suggest you keep a low profile until we're done."

He looks at you through the mirror while you finish your hair. Uses the word we instead of I. It makes your heart ache… And you take even that lecturing comment as a compliment. So he does think you look nice, or at least nice enough to stand out. You read into every look, every little tone of voice he gives you.

"I thought we were supposed to lure him in," you say while you neaten your necklace. Of course you look nice. You have done everything you can to look ravishing tonight: a deep-cut, thigh-revealing dress, cat eye makeup, red lipstick...

"Yeah but not like this."

"I'm not locking myself inside the house because of this," you announce pointedly. "I'm not afraid to live my life."

You turn and look him up and down, give him a little tilt of the head. "Don't you have anything else to wear?"

He doesn't shrink, doesn't bat an eyelash. Just looks down on you from that ivory tower of masculine prowess and makes you feel like a fool for being so dolled up.

"There's a difference between courage and foolhardiness," he states, not falling for your attempts to make him feel small in your world. You suspect there is so much more to this man, but you don't care to know about the circumstances he grew up in, the situations that gave him that broken nose and lip. You don't want to know about his broken soul.

Or perhaps you do...

"I suppose you know everything about that," you say while looking straight at the uneven scar on his jugular.

"I do."

"Tragic past?"

"You could say that."

You feel even more silly, standing before him in all your glory, pearls in your ears and silver around your neck. You pay this man for his services; he's supposed to protect you. But something in his eyes told you from the start that there lies an abyss inside this man. And you didn't pay for that: a peek inside his heart. But a door is open a creak now, and what's inside is pure darkness.

"Well, whatever it is, I'm sorry you had to deal with that."

Your cultured attempt to dance around his chasm makes those brown pools melt. Finally, he melts. But not to compassion, or mercy, or anything that would make you believe that you two understand each other.

He looks at you like you're a stranger from another planet. He's intrigued but doesn't quite understand how a creature like yourself has come to be. You're not only a child in his eyes but a coward as well for not daring to open that door to hell.

"What do you think," you hurry to change the subject. "Will I do tonight?"

He’s always so hyper-vigilant, his stare fixed on everything else but you. It feels childish, to be jealous of his attention when all he’s trying to do is protect you.

But now… Now that alert darkness bores straight into you.

"You look good in everything, ma'am."

A breeze of arctic wind goes through your scalp, and a fainting warmth settles in your belly.

You tiptoed your way to the fridge yesterday morning, before official breakfast, in your knickers and an old band merch from your youth - the one you still slept in sometimes because it was far more comfier than your silk pajamas. He walked in fully dressed and mighty while you were sneaking back upstairs with a glass of apple juice. The humiliation was overwhelming, especially when he dared to look you up and down in your state of underdress.

"Goodness… Sorry."

It should’ve been he who was supposed to say those words. But you felt like an intruder in your own house. It was a dangerous slip: to look so homely, with no brush stroke gone through your hair, with no toner on your skin. With no makeup and standing there before him in all your…you.

"No harm done."

He had never looked at you like that, and you swore right then and there that you would only descend those stairs with your full battledress from now on.

"Even in an old t-shirt…?" You ask with a tight voice. Desperate. Longing…

"Especially then."

Simon Riley strips you from your weapons and charades in a second. Your tight, seductive smile slowly falls off your face, and from behind it, a fragile, naked hope arises to gape at him. He clears his throat as if he just offered you an entire bowl full of ice cream when he was supposed to give you only a little scoop.

"I'm gonna go take a shower," he says, calm and adamant, like a statue you would go to see at a gallery.

"I'm afraid we should be going already."

"Takes 5 minutes."

You purse your lips, and he's on his way to the bathroom before you can even give him your nod. The guy is used to military showers, then, and perhaps it's for the better that he puts on at least some effort.

When he comes out, you're sitting in the hallway, and he's only wearing a towel. It's the one you gave him when he arrived, the softest you could find from your closets. You remember how the first odd thought you had upon seeing this man is that he probably isn't used to softness.

And now you see why.

You can see the prominent veins and the sketchy forearm ink, his muscles are magnificent to the point of unholy, he has a delicious, thin layer of fat on top of his belly, and the eyelashes aren't the only breath of hair that's pale on this man… But he looks like he has gone through an inferno.

His back is full of scars, and half of his shoulder looks like it has been dipped into a deep fryer. You catch a hollow dent between his ribs, and there's more, but he walks to his room before you see the rest of it.

The taxi drive to the party is filled with silence as you try to digest what you just saw. You want to call your lawyer and demand him to tell you where the hell did he find this man and who Simon Riley truly is. Who exactly does he work for when he's not taking bodyguard jobs?

But the first thing you do when you arrive at the large party held in a small palace is to go to the punch bowl and down a glassful in one go.

He's on your heels the whole night, eyes everyone with a hawk stare, and does his job perfectly. He grabs your arm occasionally and whispers in your ear if someone seems suspicious. After one and a half hours, he comes to you and practically demands that you two leave. Normally, you would start an argument, but not tonight.

You kind of want to go back home, too. The people at the party seem tedious, and his scars have reminded you that even if you live in a world where violence is not the norm, it doesn't mean that other worlds don't exist. Otherworlds - where people get shot, stabbed, and blown apart. Whipped and cut and deep-fried. You're in danger, and it took his suffering to see that.

You have been so stupid that you just about wish someone would slap you.

Simon has been so patient with you that you nearly apologize on the ride back home. You want to beg his forgiveness and confess you have been a spoiled little idiot.

But again, that's not an easy thing to do. You turn to look at your forbearing bodyguard, ever silent in the taxi, and turn your voice to silk.

"You really should smile more," you suggest. He doesn't answer, just looks out your window as if there were perils there too. You suddenly realize anyone could shoot through the glass or the door at any given time. With a proper caliber, a bullet could pierce that window and coat his black shirt with the insides of your skull.

No. No. I'm not ducking my head.

There's no one there.

"Have you ever tried?"

You turn to humor and flirt to drive those intrusive thoughts from your head. He doesn't yet know that you're afraid, that you have been afraid this whole time. You should have bought that armored car.

"Am I your most annoying client ever…?" There's a smile on your lips, a little pardon for being so infuriating. His eyes drop there, then lift back up to your eyes with surprising seriousness.

"You're my first client ever."

Well… This was news.

"Oh. Why did you accept this job?"

His stare sails away from you and back to the London night. You stifle the urge to grab his hand, a fistful of his shirt, to draw his attention back to you. Every time he's around, you feel safe; every time he looks at you, everything else ceases to exist.

You want him so badly you could cry.

"They don't teach you manners at the SAS…?"

"No. They teach us how to kill."

You scoff and turn to look through the window, too.

"Brute."

"You're entitled to your opinion, ma'am."

When you reach your house, he uses that term again. You're 110 % sure he's only trying to annoy you.

"Good night, ma'am."

"Stop it," you nearly slam your purse on the table in the hallway.

"What?"

"The ma'am thing…!"

You sound like a wife who's looking for an argument after putting on a charade all evening. When the door to your home closes, volcanoes erupt, and bombs drop, your husband-like bodyguard gets the blunt of your fear and frustration.

But how do you argue with someone who never argues back? He's calm like the Pacific during a stormless season, always, always gets calmer when you're going berserk. He walks to the armchair in your living room like he owns the whole goddamn place and sits down with a sigh.

And there is a smile playing on his lips.

"What should I call you then?"

You look at him, dumbstruck, on that chair, spreading his legs like there's no tomorrow, arms comfortably on the armrests, and mouth drawn into a genuine, peaceful, thoroughly naughty smile.

"Oh, now you're smiling," you huff. The unbelievable audacity of this man… "Some ideas on what to call me popped into your head?"

"Verily."

"Go on then."

"Nah. You should go to sleep."

"I'm not going until you tell me."

You cross your arms over your chest to underline that ruling. His smile only widens. He looks wickedly delicious in that seat with his legs spread, and the chair doesn't swallow him like it swallows you. Actually, his shoulders are wider than the back panel of this enormous chair.

"Well," he begins, "’princess' came up first."

You try to catch what he just said through the stupor of wanting to climb on that wide lap.

"Truly? How original."

"Or spoiled brat."

You stop breathing for a second, then reel straight toward a spiral of–

"How dare you?"

You notice his eyes dropping to your heaving breasts again. This man is so different from a dinner-offering, cunning man in a suit. He has no pretenses whatsoever. He looks at you with that little smile, eyes burning, legs drifting apart even more, probably his cock stirring from how you are trying to chastise him. If you had pearls around your neck, you would clutch them. Or throw them at him.

"You son of a–"

"Pretty."

His next choice renders you speechless; it cuts through your insult before it even flees your mouth. You gape at him, jaw open, breathing and cheeks burning, pussy throbbing - soaked so thoroughly now that you feel a tiny droplet cascade down your thigh.

"Yeah. That's better," the man says as if he's also blessed with a Superman stare, knowing you're seconds away from drenched. "Better than brat or princess, anyway."

The darkness conceals most of him as he settles inside that massive chair he dwarfs. You are falling, or at least that's what it feels like. A tumble, a slip inside his Styx. But there's no bottom, and the water is warm ink, despite the fact that he's so blanched.

"Pretty…?" You whisper into that water, breathe onto the surface of his depths. The darkness answers immediately.

"Very."

Your swallow is a wet, nervous roll inside your throat when you sink into that river of lust and smoke.

You take your jewels off first, because you know he doesn't care for them. Money's not his chief interest, even if he's being paid. And fat, at that. But he's not here for riches, he’s not here for the jewels – or that's what you desperately wish.

The necklace and pearls are gone soon, tucked away on the table with your trembling digits, and he's sitting there like a statue.

You have no trouble with this dress: the zipper seems to cascade down on its own as you reach behind your back. He's motionless as you slip out of the straps that keep the dark velvet up. You feel like you're the Styx: but the darkness of the river pools at your feet as you let go of the gown, let go of everything and continue your freefall.

He doesn't move, doesn't give evidence that he's even breathing; he just sits there like a long-forgotten king.

The panic snares you with a drool-wet throat: you salivate not because of him but because of your nerves.

Are you… harassing him?

Does he want this…?

At least he thinks you're pretty – and you could laugh out loud; your thoughts are vain and petty, even when you're baring yourself before him in more ways than just one. Your breaths are audible distress inside that darkness, and he's still: everything's still.

But he moves when you reach for your bra.

It's just a hand that soars through the darkness, an involuntary reach for support and gathering of composure as his fingers find his jaw. They swipe across imagined stubble before he leans his head on that hand, just an ounce's worth of weight placed on his thumb and pointer as if he's simply in his thoughts. But the hawk stare is fixed on the lace covering your breasts as it falls on the floor too.

You hear his breaths now. Quicker on the inhale, heavy on the exhale. Your thumbs slide under the hem of the last piece of your veil, something you got from the store when you were feeling down. Now the underwear makes you feel better than ever - who would’ve guessed it's the moment you slither it off? Slowly, too: you’re being a tease, hip bones giving a two-second dance for him as he continues to watch you strip before him like the queen of the night.

You breathe in sync now, and your nipples perk up – he hasn't even touched you yet and you're more aroused than ever with a man.

Not a word spoken, and you fear you’re being delusional – if you've just imagined the heat between you two, but then those legs flare a hair's breadth more. His voice is the softest whip as it crackles through the void.

"Yeah... You're pretty. Now what?"

You breathe in gusts now. It's exhilaration, damnation.

"Jesus Christ, Simon."

The chair gives a creak as he rises, like an ancient shadow. Intimidating – intense, always, always, and you've been trying to coat him with soft towels and feed him toast. You wonder if he prefers black tea simply because it tastes more bitter than coffee rounded with milk.

Does he want this? Silly softness and toast and–

You get all your answers as he bends just enough to match your height, just enough to sweep you off your feet. Your hands go around his neck on instinct as he lifts you up from your rich, opulent Styx and into his sea.

You're quiet all the way upstairs – he can't fuck you downstairs, then, has to intrude on your luxury and privacy. You don't mind, especially when the steps give a desperate wail under your combined weight. He lets it sing its music to the night: your ruining already makes so much noise.

He reaches for his gun right after he’s placed you on the mattress. The sound of it is heavy when he sets it on the nightstand that has only seen glasses of water and apple juice and perhaps a few books.

He undresses with soldierly sharpness, no seduction there. But he doesn't have to seduce you: his stare and heavy-cold demeanor have already done that.

He's so, so different from the others… Looks at you on the bed like you're both a piece of tender sirloin and something akin to garbage. That's an accurate depiction of a princess, perhaps. You know wasps gather around both honey and bloodied meat.

He looks at you like that because you know nothing. And he's not here to ruin you… he's here to insert himself inside you like you're a foe that needs to be infiltrated, plundered and burned until you understand.

He's big. Daunting. A brute while you’re the princess, could be the sleeping beauty, the way you stay immobile and try to take in this man's sheer power. You saw him half naked already when he came from the shower, but it's nothing compared to seeing all that taut, scarred flesh up close, soon about to fall upon you like a broken mountain.

And what's between his legs is wholly proportional to the rest of him. That thing is a menace, and it's not even fully erect - hanging thick between thick thighs, foreskin revealing a fat, sloping tip, and he's veined all over…

Finally, your mouth goes dry.

His gaze sweeps your beauty, and that cock gives a throb – a good, hard pull that stretches out into the open air, and your eyes go wide. Then he prowls, like the king of the jungle, moving with a fluidity that must be scary to those who meet their end by this big brute’s violence.

You are able to take in air only when his hand falls next to your head. The other claims you by the middle as if to soothe you - but the truth is you're caged in like a tiny, quivering animal.

The hand is heavy as it slopes across your stomach and scales your mound. It doesn't cup or probe, only rests there over your most sacred place, like an enemy surrounding a city. Your thighs part slowly, hoping he would just sweep right in.

"This wasn't in the deal," he rasps as he looks down at you: heavy iron judging a diamond.

"Oh shut up," you breathe, thoroughly thrilled and shy. If you weren't lying down, his intensity would buckle your knees.

"Nor do I take orders from you, ma'am."

"I'm not- Don't call me a-"

His eyes spark as the hand dips down like a deep diver into the blue. You gasp a stunned whiff when he's met with a mortifying amount of slickness. Your arousal sings a pretty song as he draws a finger over your slit, the moist sounds followed by another stuttering sigh.

"Look at you all wet," he remarks, and you grit your teeth.

“Shut…up…”

"You know why I accepted this job?"

He wrecks you with one thick finger, rough skin lathering you with your own juice like he's trying to make a point here. And he is making a point: it comes across perfectly. The princess is a filthy mess for brutes…

And of course he was given a file on you too. With more than just one photo.

"Yeah," he rasps when you only look back at him with your felled deer helplessness. You could swear that he just heard your thoughts. "I think you know."

"You're–ah– a brute," you whisper, eyes shining. Your thighs part even more, feel yourself leaking over his fingers that stroke you agonizingly slow. You swallow with hunger, the need pangs on your cheeks. Your whole body is throbbing for him.

“Sticks and stones, love.”

He's so infuriating that you could slap him. Claw him, rip him apart. But you nearly laugh instead… It's far better an option to let him claw and rip you apart. He's tearing you apart right now, with those eyes and his hand, exploring you like you're the first course and he's here for the whole dinner. How can he be so calm?

"Could you…" You start, then realize you've never begged for this man.

"Hm? Talk to me," he commands. "Whatever ya want."

You whimper – from bliss or relief, you can't tell. The frantic need to serve is fully fleshed out in his tone. It surprises you. You thought he was here for his own pleasure.

You try to think through the bliss of his fingers. You've had all kinds of things... All you could ever want, most would say. But that's not entirely true. No man has ever promised to please you however you want.

"Could you go…"

"Go down on you?" He places a thumb, broad and hard, on your clit. Teases it with the slightest pressure and a circle. "Lick your cunt?"

Fuck…

He has no trouble saying it as it is, and you nod, still helpless.

"Sure. 'N after that I'll fuck you nice and good."

He's never, ever sounded like that before. Dark, and rich, the baritone reaching a level that speaks of hunger – no, need.

A brute, a pussy-drunk brute, the blood in your veins sing as he goes down. Nothing can prepare you for the way with which he manhandles his way between your thighs like they're only a petty distraction in the way. They're forced wide apart with a tight grip that speaks of urgency, but he takes his time to admire the sight bared before him. He’s drinking you in like ambrosia, towering above you while you’re being held open for him to just observe you like you’re a center-spread girl in a filthy magazine.

"You're fucking pretty down here, did ya know that?"

You don't even know what to say - his tone, his observation is base, and still, they're the most beautiful words anyone has ever said to you.

"No…?"

"Well now ya know."

He steals a final glance at you, and the fire in his eyes already makes your legs feel weak. He dives between your parted legs, right into your leaking, glistening folds, and you're suddenly glad that you've done all that yoga… Those shoulders are so broad they force your thighs even further apart as he makes himself home there between your legs.

A hot mouth presses against you like this man has been starving, even if you've fed him the best delicacies for days. An even, fat stroke is the first thing you feel before your toes curl and your head falls back.

"Goodness, Simon..." You try to keep yourself from stuttering as his mouth opens you like a flower. You should be quiet, for once, and let him do the job. He seems like an expert, even and especially there between your legs. "Do you-ah, always shag your clients?"

"Told you you're my first," he rasps a husky sigh on your folds. He could ruin you with that voice alone.... He gives you another sweep of his tongue, full and ample, and your fingers curl around the sheets, your hips buck; your ass drives up on instinct, trying to both escape his mouth and rub your pussy against those thin but eager lips.

"Don't worry," he tells your pussy with a warm chuckle. "This is free of charge."

You sigh, the first laugh of many up into the air. You're supposed to get angry, but you can't. You can't.

"Have… no words for you."

"Good. It's about time you stopped talking, love."

He grabs your hips to punctuate it that you should indeed shut up. Fingers sink into your flesh like you're a whole goddamn feast - no more fucking toast and teasing. His hands look so huge as they dig into your skin - so different from the hands of men who work in offices or wait for people to serve them. You upvoted those hands to be the best part of this man long ago.

And that bulk of muscle… Some of those men in suits might go to the gym, but they couldn't forge a body like his in a million years: that breathtaking mass built to work and endure harsh conditions. It's not a flex or a sculptured piece of art: it's simply survival - ancient and primal.

He's got darkness, and you got diamonds, but something tells you his depths are infinitely more valuable. You couldn't buy his intensity even if they sold it in the streets. The skull mask was self-made, everything in this man is self-made, and he's sampling what diamonds taste like, and you wonder… Does he think you're cheap, some fake piece of worthless junk? Does he laugh at how easy you are? That under your manners, you're only a spoiled brat and a promiscuous maneater…? Or that he couldn't care less, as long as he can push his cock inside you?

He gives you his best, that's for sure. A working man, with you as his assigned mission, and the feeling of being a spoiled little princess only increases. And how are you supposed to stay still if he's slow and attentive like that? You might be his first client, but you're not his first shag…

His lips seal tightly around your nub, suck it, lap it, sigh on it - he's already breathless from the need to make you moan and cum. A purpose-driven, ravenous man, and when he dips his tongue inside your cunt, your mind finally goes blessedly blank. Your legs shake and stretch, and you can’t prevent your hand from skimming down to grab his hair when he gives you deep, unhurried plunges with his tongue, huffing against you from the mad want to make you feel good.

You would never have guessed that Simon Riley would get such pleasure from licking a woman.

One hand disappears from around your thigh, and you guess it's one of his fingers that arrives, wide and thick, to tease your entrance. You can feel the smile on your folds as he slips it in, making you nearly jolt on the sheets. Your fingers instantly curl to tug that pale hair, to grab hold of something, and it makes him rumble inside you.

He doesn’t even wait for you to catch your breath as he adds another finger. Goes shallow at first, then pushes those fingers in to the knuckle. The feeling of being filled - and not being filled enough - is going to drive you crazy any second now.

"Simon…"

"Yeah?"

“I want you to… want you to…" you hear yourself choking on your beg as he works those fingers in and out of you while his lips are tight around your clit. He knows exactly what you're trying to ask.

And suddenly, it's he who breaks…

"Right. 'M gonna fuck you now, yeah?"

The spread is gone, and you're being moved - on your belly, and you briefly think whether it's because he can't bear to look into your eyes when he takes you. You don’t even have time to whimper from the loss of his fingers and mouth before heavy thighs force your legs aside. You’re being spread again, crudely, obscenely, like it’s just a procedure that has to be done. He’s both methodical and impatient, and you wonder - has he wanted to rail you like this ever since he saw you? Force you to lie down on your belly while he takes you from behind like a helpless damsel?

His hands come to your hips as if to make sure that you won’t run away from under him. As if you ever wanted to…

Something far fatter forces its way between your folds and straight onto your opening. He glides over your folds a few times, spreads your wetness all over his tip. Methodical still, but it makes you moan and swallow.

"Jesus…"

The lathering stops, the jutting cock settles right where your depths lie, and he chuckles. "Not quite, love."

Fuck…

Fuck this man's cheek and audacity. Fuck his size and pride, the way he knows what he's doing all the fucking time.

“Desperate for it?”

That stupidly fat cock just resides there, teasing your aching, leaking hole without going in. But it’s like he answers his own question because you feel the thick of him give a notch against your folds. So impatient. Thoroughly needy. It sends you further down the whirpool of desire, a searing white, fathomless deep..

“Yes..”

When he goes in with a leaden grunt, your muscles go into a spasm - he's too big, he hasn't prepared you right, and still, you force yourself to relax.

"Not what you expected?"

"It's… too much," you admit. He stops, realizing that for once in his life, he might've been an impatient man. Then he crawls forward, and you feel like you're about to be buried under a boulder as his weight bears down on you. Hands sink into the mattress on both sides of you, forcing you further up against him - you're floating, almost, to where you belong.

"Yeah? C'mon… You can take it."

You shudder. It's not even fully in yet?

He speaks too softly for it to be a demand, even when he's hovering on the brink of wanting to simply ram himself into your cunt. It's an encouragement. He’s cheering you on, like a coach. Or a leader... It’s leadership.

When you don't object, he starts to feed more of himself in. You try to remember how to breathe because you were wrong, you were so, so wrong - it was barely just the tip, and now you're stretched wide and tight. He's endless, and sinking in deeper, deeper….

And you want it so much - all of him- you want to grip him and never let go. One hand comes to sweep over your hip again, it caresses the swell of your ass, and you know he's looking down at how well you can take him after all.

"How are we doin'?"

Your lips are swollen, and your brows are creased tight. It's still not in…?

You’re fucked. Literally. But you can take him... You must.

You whimper when he slows down almost to a halt.

"Love. Tell me to stop 'n I'll stop."

"Just–gently," you whisper, brittle and shivering from joy.

"Don't worry. I got you."

Slowly, he arrives to the end of him and you. Hips flesh against yours, he’s out of breath before he even starts the thrusts. His length caresses places unfathomable in this position, and his weight is crushing you, even when he's supporting himself. It only feels like the safest place to be. Trapped there between your safe, soft bed and his safe, hard body.

The first thrust punches the air out of your lungs. It doesn’t hurt, and it’s not uncomfortable; it’s just too much to take. You’ve never been so filled.

"Fuck…" He swears, somewhere between the third or fourth thrust. "You're…"

"Good…?" You offer him when he doesn't continue. You know he was possibly going to say tight or something crude like that and corrected himself before it spilled. He merely grunts as an answer - a barbarian through and through, you decree. And then the brute speaks…

"The best."

God. You feel like a diamond after all, but you've never been under so much pressure, fearing you might break.

"You-too…" It's a sad little mewl. You sound like a child trying to make friends. Latching a hook on him, no matter how tiny it is. One shake, one ripple from the behemoth, and it will fall loose.

"Don't go lying with that pretty little mouth," he warns.

"I'm not lying."

"Yeah…? Keep squeezing me like that and perhaps I'll believe you."

It's a strange feeling, to meet your mistrust and jealousy on him. He has no pretenses, but he has secrets, camouflage, and flash grenades that blind you from the truth. But even he can't hide it all when he's moving inside you, so close, so terribly close.

You melt into a pool of heat and want, trying to meet him midway by offering your cunt, arching your spine, driving yourself up to give him better access. What was possibly meant as a desperate fuck turns into a sweet, weightless rocking, a rhythm of him and you. The hands on your hip start to gain weight as he holds you still for him, at times even pulls you against his cock.

"C'mon… wanna hear you," he huffs, then slides one hand to your butt and gives it a fond squeeze when you won't instantly make noise. "You're always givin' me that cheek and now you're silent?"

It's a warm question, a thick baritone that settles into your stomach, then shoots downwards and makes you clench.

"Wh-what do you want me to say?"

"Want you to sing."

Of course the man who never talks won't shut up in bed. But he's not bullying you into submission, nor is he being mean. If anything, he sounds like he's finally on his knees.

And you don't want to be mean either. Not anymore. But you just can't help yourself from having a little fun now that he's finally desperate and inside you.

"Make me," you whisper, delivering your cheek with a wicked little smile.

The response is immediate: he dares to land a flat palm on your ass. Like you're a broodmare, a sirloin steak for him to feast on. And it does the job: you almost shriek, or at least that's how it sounds like when a parched little whine pushes through your vocal chords with violence.

"That's better," he barks, pleased with his work.

"You're horrible," you gasp. You're glad he put you face down on a pillow: you can only hope he doesn't see how happy you are in the darkness of his night.

"Yeah? And you're sweet."

It's said with gravel wrapped in silk. It hits you and ignites, starts a flame inside you without permission.

You want him in ways you shouldn't. You want… more breakfasts, him carrying you up the stairs, taking in the way you tip-toe around the house in an old t-shirt. You want to serve him back rubs and tea and see who he is when he's not being paid. You don't want a lap dog or a guard dog, you simply want...

Simon.

"I'm– I'm sorry that I've been such a bitch," you whisper. He sinks back on top of you until his nose nuzzles the back of your ear. He leans on his elbows, trying not to break you into too many little pieces, but the feeling of being confined couldn't be more blissful.

"Cock's that good?" He drags the following thrust, sparking your nerves aflame as he hits your core. But it's not brutal; if it is, it's the sweetest wrecking you could ever have imagined.

"Don't make me take my words back," your lips pull to a smile and a silent, inner laugh.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

He's smiling too. Inwardly, perhaps, but you can hear the mirth. His weight on top of you while you're lying under him on your belly, unable to move, unable to do anything other than take the full brunt of his cock as it spreads you open, is pure heaven.

"Want you to cum when I'm inside you," he rasps in your ear, lips brushing the underside of your jaw. "Think you can do that, princess?"

Being told to cum on command is a bit ridiculous, you think. But not when it comes from that Cockney mouth. Not when he asks so nicely. Your cunt pulls, claws at him.

"... I'll show you princess," you sigh, but it's only a second away from laughter. His fingers dig into your skin, the flush flesh of your ass. It feels possessive… Fond.

"Yeah. Show me. C'mon."

The camouflage gets slightly torn off by a wind of a smile. You can hear it on his lips. Sex should be fun, one of your friends always says. You had never thought about it like that. Bed is not the place for laughter and humor, you had thought. But now you are both on the brink of bursting with it.

"You're a fucking pretty one…" He grunts: a breathless, silent joy. "Know you want this as much as I do. Ain't that right?"

"Yes."

"That's what I thought. So cum for me. Wanna hear the sounds you make."

You dance on the precipice already, and his voice causes your hand to shoot out to his. You drag that heated palm across your hips and your ribs, curl it next to you as if you were drawing a blanket over youself. It's a lover's caress, and his fingers slip between yours as he wraps around you like the protector that he is.

Your walls flutter, the thickness inside you makes you swell with every thrust. His hips are relentless as he buries himself into you with blunt force, his flesh clapping against yours and making your cunt clamp down on him. Sweet, sweet, sweet, your blood sings as your lids drift closed. The wave is coming, the final tsunami that will sweep you with it, and you will only succumb with joy.

"Don't-stop," you hear yourself beg through the heavy pants he's grunting on your neck.

"'M not gonna stop," he grunts into your ear, serious now.

"Fuh–Fuck me good and… hard," you're hiccuping through dry tears. It feels like there's a hammer and an anvil placed between your ribs. "I need you hard-"

"Shit…"

You barely grasp that he's about to lose his precious control before the midnight sea takes you under. The world fades into a tight know of blue and white and black, electric, ambient, something soft and hot at the same time. You're choking on your tears, moaning into the pillow like a poor, broken, tortured cat.

"That's fucking pretty," he swears on your neck as you cum. All humor is gone now, but he's not mocking you. He's just… emotional. The bulk of him rides you through the wave, but the rhythm of his hips becomes erratic.

"That's it, pretty… I'm gonna…Fuck," he huffs on your skin, a mist of want, and the cockhead rubs something profound inside you and makes you jolt in the middle of your molten euphoria. He grunts, swears, and does it again - bludgeons so deep it forces out a sob, just before he breaks too with a choked, wet swallow and a groan. A trembling colossus, you think, as he thickens and bursts inside you.

You're an aching mess when he comes, his thighs pressing over yours and forcing them far and wide as he buries himself into you to the hilt. He's a behemoth, spasming and crumbling right above you. The broad abs bunch against your back while his hips pin you down and spread you open. The cock pulses inside you, and you are barely able to think how it's a miracle that both his thick flesh and the pool of cum, all of it, just somehow fits there inside you…

A gentle brute until the end, he swallows again, thick and breathless, before giving a few tight rolls of his hips, emptying himself to the last drop. Slowly, you both still inside your bubble of warm, dark blue, something akin to a sea between a tropical storm and a calm sunrise, a drowsy reef shifting with the waves.

He's broken into a light sweat from the toil when he finally untangles your fingers. Your hips are kept in place with one hand as he slowly pulls out. You feel like you're left emptier than before, even if you feel the cum welling up inside, about to spill over.

Your bodyguard - your late-night fuck - collapses beside you, then reaches to pull you close again. Still back against his chest, still unable to look into your eyes when you're both vulnerable.

"I'm gonna get you a towel," his fingers tremble as he caresses your arm with the most delicate touch.

"No–don't, don't go," you whisper, then grab his hand and bring it back over you. You almost squeeze yourself with it. "Please?"

The tension behind your back decreases as he slowly falls back into bed.

"Alright love. I'll stay right here."

It's so peculiar how he reminds you of large water masses. A night sea under a pale moonlight. Not a stormy, roiling one, just a vast depth in an ever-swelling motion.

"I want… I need you to keep me safe," you whisper inside that swelling sea. You never want to come to the surface. You want to learn to breathe underwater. The heavy arm is draped over you; it covers nearly half of your chest as he sighs.

"Then let me do that."

His plea is not humble - nothing in this man is. He's not on one knee, swearing his allegiance and vowing to always protect you. He's not your Lancelot.

But in a way, his plea comes far too close to a beg. You feel a sting near your heart. It's electric, pure pain - the sweet kind, though, as you realize he doesn't only want to do his job… He wants to protect you. He has already tried his best to protect you while you run around like nothing is wrong.

"Simon… I'm sorry."

"I already forgave you," he hums on your skin, evidently glad that you two finally understand each other. It should send you laughing, the thought that you needed his scars and his…treatment to find common ground. And free of charge, no less.

"Do you still wish you were somewhere warmer…?"

He bows his head against the nape of your neck, and the gush of air from his nose is warm and jovial. "No."

It's hours till dawn, but you wish it would never come. The beauty of the night is only now unfolding before you. It feels far more safe than the violent dawn. You wonder how he would react if you moaned his name as you cum. If he would shudder. You wonder what the hell is wrong with you that you didn't already do it...

"Simon…?"

"Mm..?"

"What happens now?"

There's a pause, but he doesn't shift for more comfort. Still, the bullet vests and battle gears are back on; you just sense it.

"We're gonna get some sleep."

"No, I meant… What does this mean for us?"

"What do you think it means?"

Now he shifts, but only to draw you closer. You feel like jello as he pulls your scent deep into his lungs, then exhales the grace on your skin like you're the only tobacco he needs after a good round of sex.

"Don't worry about it, princess," he murmurs on your skin. So delicately that you could claim this man has never even seen the army, never barked and shouted and smoked his throat dry. "We'll talk in the morning."

You settle into his sea, an embrace full of gentle, heavy safety. It's the sweetest oblivion to slip in as you begin a dreamless sleep, soft and snug. But it's not merciful enough to make you forget that you two…

You never even kissed.

............................................

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your-averagewriter · 5 days

Text

Lipstick kisses.

Summary: At the wrap party, Cooper and (y/n) get closer and closer before (y/n) leaves him with some lipstick marks as a reminder and a promise for later (pre apocalypse!Cooper Howard x fem!reader).

Word count: 1.4K

Warnings: kissing, sexual references

“Right here in the vaults is where you can live, so get your spot now before they run out and you can be as happy as us.” I say, looking into the camera, wearing a Vault-Tec suit that is molded to my body. Cooper’s arm is wrapped around my waist as we wear matching smiles, playing husband and wife for one of the new ads. They’re cheesy but they pay well and afford me a spot in one of the vaults which I wouldn’t be able to pay for myself.

“She’s right.” He places a well-planned kiss on my cheek. “It’s as easy as pie.” Cooper says, winking and dipping his finger in the apple pie they left for the shoot. “These walls allow us to stay safe and live the all-American lifestyle, they keep out the radiation and the Reds.” He says into the camera and it finishes filming.

“That’s a wrap.” Someone from behind the camera says.

“Great, are we done then?” I ask and everyone disperses, including Cooper and me.

“Wrap party.” Someone pats me on the shoulder, I turn around and it’s Cooper.

“Wrap party? We’ve only filmed a few ads, it’s not like we filmed a movie.”

“Damn feels like it sometimes with all the takes.” I chuckle.

“So where’s the party?”

“My house starts at 8:00, most people won’t turn up until past 8:30 - you know how parties go.”

“Well, I’ll see you later then.” I say with a small smile before walking away to get into my usual clothes and head home before going to Coop’s party.

Getting home, I lay out my outfit, picking out a long red dress that is form-fitting and pack a little black handbag with my matching lipstick, a box of cigarettes, a lighter, keys and phone. Double-checking my makeup in the mirror, I slip on my heels before leaving and driving to Cooper’s house.

There’s a crash on one of the roads so the traffic is awful as I try to get to the wrap party but I end up getting there quite a bit later than expected - definitely past 8:30. Finally I pull up, having to park down the hill a little due to all the good car spaces already being taken.

It’s a short walk to get to his house, when I go to knock on the door, it’s already open and I can hear the music vibrating throughout the house.

I navigate my way through the people, talking to some as they greet me - being one of the main actors in the advertiser means my name is plastered on the billboards. I find the kitchen easily despite the people crowding it and pour myself a drink in the tacky red cups.

I busy myself with the drink, trying to ignore the eyes on my figure, noticing that I didn’t understand the dress code, ending up in a much fancier outfit than anyone else. Tiring of the loud noise and not seeing anyone I truly knew, I head outside, walking over to one of the benches, facing away from the building and towards the pool and pulling out my cigarette pack and lighter. I place a cigarette in between my lips and try to light it but my lighter doesn’t work.

I flick the lighter again and again.

“Hey darlin’, need some help?” I turn around to face Cooper with his lighter in hand. Looking up at him, he lights the cigarette for me.

“Thanks.” He sits down on the bench next to me.

“Not enjoying the party, sweetheart?”

“I don’t really know anyone here. They’re all on the business side of things and they seem to know me, it freaks me out.” I chuckle, taking a drag from the cigarette.

“Well, at least you look the part.” He grins. “You look stunnin’.”

“Thank you, I feel like I stick out.”

“You always stick out ‘cause you’re so pretty.”

“Not what I meant.” I chuckle as he takes the cigarette from my hand, lingering a second longer, his eyes on mine before lifting it up to his mouth and taking a long drag.

“Oh, I know exactly what you meant and I still think it’s a good thing. Don’t know how I didn’t see you sooner with this little get-up.”

I look him up and down, looking at the suit he’s wearing. “Since when did you wear suits?” I take another hit.

“Since I got a reputation.”

“I like you better with your cowboy attire.” I show a slightly dopey smile, maybe slightly influenced by the drinks I had earlier…

“Me too, darlin’, me too.” He laughs, taking a sip of a glass of whiskey he brought out with him. “I’ll wear the cowboy hat for you next time. Maybe we could have a party for two, dinner maybe.”

“Are you asking me out for dinner?”

“I’m asking you in for dinner. I make a mean spaghetti bolognese.” He wears a small grin on his face. “So what do you say?”

“That sounds nice. I like pasta. And you, of course.” I say, turning to properly face him, blowing a ring of smoke towards him with a smile

“Well, that’s good because I like you quite a bit.” He leans forward slightly, matching my smile, and moving forward slightly.

“Cooper, (y/n)! I hope I’m not interrupting.” Sebastian walks over, sitting down on the bench opposite the both of us.

“‘Course not.” I say, quickly pulling away with a slightly flustered look.

“You were interrupting actually, Sebastian. I was just about to kiss this pretty lady.” Both the men laugh while I sit there looking mildly embarrassed.

“Well then, I’ll be on my way. Hopefully I’ll see you later on, if you two don’t get too carried away that is.” He jokes, laughing.

“So embarrassing.” I mumble, head in hands once Sebastian leaves.

“I was just being honest, sweetheart. Now, where were we?” I look back up at him.

He pushes his lips against mine gently as I reciprocate, matching the delicate nature - almost as if he thinks I'll break. After a few seconds I pull away and can't help but chuckle as I look at his face.

“What? What is it?” He asks with a small grin.

“Nothing.” I decide not to tell him about the lipstick smudged on his lips. “Sorry.” I chuckle.

“C’mere, you.” He says, arm around my waist to pull me closer to him, a smirk on his face before he presses his lips against mine again.

I wrap my arms around his neck, resting them as we pull each other closer. I pull back to press a few kisses to his jaw, relishing the little lipstick kisses that are left behind.

“You're a little minx, you are.” He mumbles, I smile softly against his skin, continuing before making my way back to his lips.

I feel one of his hands travel up my thigh, his rough hands against the smooth skin exposed by the slit in my dress. He caresses the skin gently, rubbing little circles.

I play with his hair, my arms still resting over his shoulders gives me access to the back of his head also allowing me to pull him closer.

I feel his fingers reach under the slit of my dress and I pull back to reach for the hand with a conflicted smile.

“Cooper.” I say almost like a warning. “We're at your party and in your garden.”

“I don't mind.” He shrugs with a dopey smile.

“I mind.” I say, “Besides, people will be looking for you.” I stand up, holding his hand and leading him to stand as well. “C’mon.”

“Fine.” He huffs, worried he's missing out as he walks back into his house.

I lean over until my mouth is just by his ear.

“Y'know, if you wanted I could stay back a little later?” I whisper but it’s barely a question as I already know the answer, pulling back with a teasing smile before walking away again, leaving him with the lipstick marks as I find a bathroom to reapply my lipstick with a knowing smile.

Re-joining the party, I try to socialise with some other people but I make sure to keep an eye on Cooper talking to people trying to hide their hushed chuckles. Finally, I watch someone break the news to him as he walks over to one of the mirrors in his house, turning his face to examine the damage before he looks over at him. I send a small smile, feigning innocence as he shakes his head.

“Little minx.” He mumbles with a small grin.

AN: I hope you enjoyed reading!

I'm actually in love with Cooper, I swear (Ghoul form and not)

If you want a part two to this fic then let me know (I don't write smut though)!

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stoned-writer · 2 years

Text

His Sunshine - Lloyd Hansen

summary: No one disrespects his baby and gets away with it.

warnings: smut! daddy kink, spit kink, degradation, praise, unprotected p n v (wrap it before you tap it)

word count: 2,609

a/n: Hii, this is my very first time writing anything like ever so pls be nice ! its not that good but being my first time i think its okay! hope you all enjoy :)

likes & reblogs appreciated !

To the outside world Lloyd could be classified as a sociopath, given his lack of empathy for anyone that stands in his way. However, there is another side to this deliciously unhinged man. A side that no one gets to see. Except for you of course. To you Lloyd is as soft as a feather. He would do absolutely anything for you. So when someone blatantly disrespects you and your relationship with him, lets just say, it doesn’t end well for whoever thought they could cross that line.

The day started pretty normal, you woke up before Lloyd, laying there admiring his sleeping form. “I can feel you staring sunshine” he said with a raspy morning voice. “Can’t help it bub you’re just so pretty.” You’re mornings together usually go like this. He turns over and looks at you, you can see the love and adoration in his eyes, that look that no one will ever get to see outside this bedroom. “Not as pretty as you angel,” he says making you blush. He never fails to make you weak in the knees. There’s something about him being able to go from absolutely ruthless to a lovesick mess that makes your heart swell. You both get up to start the day, after taking a shower together you head downstairs to make breakfast for the two of you. Given the size of the house, his men are always lurking around. As you walk into the kitchen you spot a few of them, one man imparticuar shoots you a look you can’t decipher, it immediately makes you uncomfortable. You brush it off for the moment, focusing on breakfast for you and your husband. However, you can feel the mans gaze on you the entire time.

Lloyd finally enters the kitchen, making you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you had been holding in. He comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist placing a series of kisses on your neck. Lloyd has never been shy about PDA. He likes making sure everyone knows you belong to him. “Looks great sunshine, thank you” he said smiling at you. You duck your head, feeling shy at his praise. He chuckles, knowing the effect he has on you. You both eat breakfast in a comfortable silence. After you both finish cleaning up, Lloyd gets a phone call. You can tell whatever it is, it already set him off. He strides over to you, with his hands on your hips he says “I’ll be back in a few hours angel. Have to take care of some business.” You’ve been with him long enough to know what that means. His job never bothered you. It probably should have, but the love you have for him is so strong, none of that mattered. You sigh slightly to hide your disappointment, “I thought I’d have you to myself today baby” you said, “I know pumpkin, but you know these morons can’t get anything done without me” he says with a small laugh, trying to ease your now slightly sour mood. You look up at him and smile, “I know honey, none of them can do it like you” you say with a wink. He pulls you in to kiss you passionately, not giving a single fuck about anyone who was watching. When he pulls away he says in a playful tone “I’ll see ya later pretty girl, promise I’ll make it up to you when I get back” throwing you a wink before walking out to conduct his work in his office.

Hours pass and you are starting to get anxious. You miss him when he’s working, but you know better than to interrupt whatever tourture is going on behind the doors of his office. However, today you’re feeling quite adventurous. You skip up to your shared bedroom and put on your mans favorite light blue lingerie set, knowing that it drives him crazy. You slip on a short tight bodycon dress of the same color over it. Looking over yourself in the mirror, you smirk knowing this would grab his attention with no problem.

You saunter over to the other side of the house where his office is located. Knocking lightly on the door, one of the newer boys answers the door looking a little scared. “Uh-uh Mrs. Hansen, I apologize but he’s busy at the moment” with that you hear your husband say “Let my wife in, unless you want to be on the receiving end of this gun.” You smirk at the boy and push into the room. Lloyd rakes his eyes over your body, letting out a low groan at your appearance, “oh sunshine, whats all this?” he says knowing exactly what your’re doing and loving it. “Was just missing you sweetheart” you say looking up at him through your lashes, giving him that oh so innocent look he loves so much. “All this for me doll?” “Of course daddy only the best for you,” you say knowing that would get him riled up. Lloyd stares down at you holding eye contact for who knows how long. You can tell he’s trying to decide his next move. Before he can proceed with you, the man from this morning takes it upon himself to break up your little moment with your husband. “We don’t have time for this Lloyd, dismiss your little toy and lets get this done.” Lloyd whips his head around to face the man who was about to regret opening his mouth. “What did you just say?” The man digs himself into a deeper hole by rolling his eyes and scoffing to his boss, “You heard me. Your little bitch here is a distraction, not to mention shes seen too much already.” Lloyd continues to glare at the man for a second before saying “Do I need to remind you of who I am asshole? Nobody disrespects my wife and lives to utter another word.” He catches the man off guard with a hand to his throat and makes him face you, “apologize to my girl before I cut out your tongue and make you eat it.” The man is now shaking slightly, “I’m sorry Mrs. Hansen,” he says flatly still not understanding the gravity of the situation he got himself into. Lloyd rolls his eyes and throws the man into a chair next to his desk. He nods over the other men in the room “Tie. Him. Up.” he says darkly. The men rush to do as he says. “This is gonna be fun” he chuckles. Lloyd strides back over to you and cups your face in his large hands, “You okay pretty girl?” he asks with concern lacing his tone. “I’m okay baby.” Lloyd looks back othe to the man now tied to his chair, then back to you, “Now before I put a bullet in the back of this morons head, what do you say we give him a little show darlin?” His words go straight to your core, sending a shiver down your spine, you match his smirk and nod your head timidly “anything for you daddy” he smiles and shakes his head “that’s my girl.” He motions to the rest of his men that are still occupying the room, all frozen at the scene in front of them, “the rest of you out. Now.” They clear the room in a heartbeat, leaving the three of you.

Lloyd circles the man currently tied up in the corner of his office, “Now, before the inevitable happens here, you’re gonna watch me fuck my perfect little wife, watch me claim her.” He then walks over to you and grabs your hand, brining you over to his desk, lifting you effortlessly to sit on top of it. Standing between your legs, hands on your hips “You sure this is okay angel?” he asks, the way his voice switches between dark and vicious to soft and sweet turning you on even more. You nod your head at him to let him know you want this. “Gonna need you to use your words sunshine,” “Yes daddy, I want this.” He sends you a dark yet sweet smile “good girl.” He leans in to kiss you, it starts off slow but you can tell hes holding himself back. You pull away from him to say “I want you baby, don’t hold back, please.” He chuckles a little and nods “whatever you say princess.”

That seemed to flip a switch in him. He crashes his lips in to yours making you gasp, he immediately slips his tongue into your mouth making you moan against him as you throw your arms around his neck to pull him closer. His hand make their way down to you ass squeezing hard making you tighten your hold on him. “Please” you breathe out to him, not entirely sure what your begging for you just want him to touch you. “Please what angel? Use your words for me bunny.” You whine out “please daddy, touch me, fuck me, anything” he slides his hands down to your thighs and sneaks his way up the bottom of your dress. He then notices the bit of lingerie peaking out “oh sweetheart you shouldn’t have” you giggle sweetly “just for you daddy.” He pulls your dress off leaving you in your skimpy lingerie that he loves oh so much. He moves his head into your neck, sucking and kissing, making sure to leave marks. He brings his hand between your thighs, feeling the heat radiating off of you already. He slides your panties to the side to feel for himself just how wet you are. “Oh sugar you really do love this don’t you? Such a little slut for me right?” You throw your head back trembling already “yes daddy such a slut for you, just for you.” He retracts his hand, earning a slight whine from you, “patience angel.” He then brings two of his fingers to your awaiting mouth, “suck,” and you do eagerly. He brings his saliva covered fingers back down and runs them through your already dripping folds.

He brings his free hand up to your throat. Squeezing slightly, not enough to hurt you he’d never do that to his angel, but just enough to bring your eyes back to his. Holding eye contact with you he slips his fingers into you with ease. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you let out a loud moan that goes straight ot Lloyds dick. He looks over to the man in the corner of the room, having forgot about him for a second. Something about seeing him hold eye contact with the man while he was knuckles deep inside you sent you over the edge. “Daddy I’m gonna cum- please - please can i cum?” He whips his head over to you, “cum angel- cum all over my fingers baby.” With that, you let go, head thrown back, letting out a loud moan “oh- oh god yes daddy- fuck.” He slowly removes his fingers from you and brings them up to his lips, locking eyes with you as he sucks his fingers clean.

Coming down from your high you bring your hands down to fumble with his belt. You finally get his pants unbuttoned and slip your hand into his boxers to feel him. “You see what you do to me angel?” you moan at that, knowing that you effect him just as much as he does you. He turns the the man and growls “Hope you’re enjoying the show buddy, probably the last thing you’re gonna see.” That makes you groan, how hot he sounds when he’s threatening someone for you. He tugs his pants off impossibly fast making his dick slap against his stomach, not being able to wait any longer, needing to be buried deep inside you. You run your hands up his chest, scratching lightly. He brings his hand to lift your chin up and pull you into a kiss, this one is different its rough, full of need and urgency. With his lips still locked to yours, he bring his cock to your entrance, catching you off guard. He pulls away and places his hands on your hips, checking on the man once more, then back to you, “look at him sunshine, probably hard in his pants watching me put my claim on you. Probably wishes he could be in my position right?” He looks back over to the man, “such a shame, he won’t live long enough to even use his dick again” he says darkly.

Coming back to you, he lines himself up with your dripping hole, slamming himself inside you with no warning, making you scream, “oh fuck baby, you’re so big daddy” “I know angel - i know. But you can take it right? I know you can. My good girl.” He can feel your legs shaking under him. His motions are slow and hard at first, driving you insane. “More baby please i need more” you plead to him. He changes his pace, now slamming into you with fast hard strokes, nearly splitting you in two. He hits that sweet spot with every thrust. Bringing one of his hands back to your throat, he taps your bottom lip with his thumb, “open” he says sternly, you obey and open your mouth for him, he spits right into your mouth making you throw your head back and moan loudly. “Such a slut for me, my perfect little wife, so beautiful angel.” He can tell your close, he is too. “ Feel ya squeezing me doll, milking my cock so good baby, so tight” “it's so good daddy, i'm so close baby, let me cum please daddy i need it” you beg him so sweetly. “How can I say no when you ask so nicely, sweetheart? Go ahead baby cum on my cock, show this asshole what he'll never have.” With that you let go squirting all over him, screaming “Oh f-fuck” throwing your head back as he works you through your orgasm, “daddy please cum for me, fill me up, i need it so bad baby.” That sends Lloyd over the edge his grip on your hips tighten as he throws his head back, he spills himself inside you, you moan at the feeling and breathe out “thank you daddy” coming down from his own high he presses his forehead to yours, breathing heavily, “you’re welcome sunshine, you were such a good girl for daddy.”

He slowly pulls out of you making you whine at the loss of him inside you. He watches his cum drip out of you and groans at the sight, bringing his fingers to push it back into you, then brings those skilled fingers to his lips and sucks, “hmmm we taste so good together baby.” he wraps you in his button down shirt that was thrown across the room in your rush to get him inside you. “Lets get you out of here and cleaned up, then I’ll deal with this little disgrace,” you look up at him sweetly, “can i stay daddy please?” he cups your face in his hands ready to protest this little idea, “oh angel- i don't know, you shouldn’t have to see that pretty girl.” you assure him “i want to please baby?” batting your eyelashes at him, knowing he can't resist. He chuckles “you’re something else babygirl, i love you so much” you giggle knowing you got your way as you always do with him. “I love you so much more daddy.”

Fin.

#chris evans fanfic #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen smut #lloyd hansen #the gray man #lloyd hansen fic

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misstycloud · 2 months

Text

How to stop your husband from being weird: situation one- digging in the middle of the night.

One of the things that I have noticed about my dear husband, Arlo (bless his soul), is the constant digging in our backyard; he leaves in the middle of the night and when I dare glance out the window, I see him. His back is always facing towards me, so I can’t get a good look at his face. He is a very expressive person and I can tell what he thinks from simply looking at his face, hence why this is somewhat concerning.

Had I known that my dearest would wake up during ungodly hours of the night, get dressed, fetch the garden tools from the shed, and then proceed to dig a massive hole, then maybe I would have hesitated to say ‘yes’. (Do not be worried, I love my husband deeply and this was just a little joke.)

Joke aside, it is still very annoying. Does he not know this will keep me awake too? I have work to do and I can’t keep on going if my sleep is this disturbed. I would have to be some sort of abomination- a vampire perhaps?

That is not all; I find dirt particles inside our house; I clean for nothing apparently.

I have tried bringing this up(somewhat hard to ask your spouse why they are leaving you all cold and lonely in the middle of the night) with Arlo, but every time he changed the subject. The audacity! He even asks me if I’m ill and is in need of a doctor. I tell him ‘I am quite fine thank you very much!’ and remind him my eyesight is good, I’m not imagining things and I know he’s been up to something in the yard. I also know he’s not preparing to pot new plants for summer so he better not try that with me.

Last time I tried prying the answer out of him, he finally relented and gave me what I wanted.

His explanation: I have been finding a lot of roadkill and other deceased animals lately. I didn’t want you to have to see it. You know I work so many hours, I don’t have time during the day, that’s why I bury them at night. It’s horrible, but understandable since they’re rebuilding the library and trucks loaded with materials drive by often.

Whether I believe this explanation or not doesn’t matter. There is factor agreeing with his explanation and there are ones that goes agaisnt it.

Those vouching for him: it is true that trucks drive by often these days since the library really did catch on fire recently. It was an unfortunate accident casued(according to the police) by some teenagers. They played around with a lighter and things escalated beyond their control. The saddest part is that I can’t go to the library anymore, I suppose I’ll have to find new hobbies to entertain myself until the library is rebuilt and restocked with books. Another thing is that I do like animals and it definitively wouldn’t be fun to see a run-over one in real life. My husband is very caring and wouldn’t expose me to something he knows I hate, therefore it makes sense for him to bury them in secret. Besides, his job is demanding and he actually wouldn’t be able to do so in the day.

All of this form one solution that is: burying the dead animals in secret from his wife(me) during nighttime as to not disturb me or his work hours. (If we look away from the fact I wake when he does)

Factors indicating he’s lying: how come I have never found a roadkill if they are so common nowadays? It’s unusual for him to come home before me, and if he’s that busy with work, it wouldn’t make sense for him to find all of them before I’ve even caught a whiff of something foul nearby. You see what I mean? Secondly, there is not reason why he should be the one doing all this work. Surely there are professionals dealing with here things? In that case then he should call them instead and tell those truck-drivers to be more careful.

Ultimately this is very suspicious, but what else can I do? Statistically, there is a high chance(I believe?) that your husband will have at least one weird hobby. I will have to live with that and I have said to him ‘I love you more than anything and if this is something you wish to do then o won’t question you.’

He was almost in tears, it was adorable. He said, ‘Yes, my love, thank you. I also love you more than anything in this world and I would be damned if something came between us.’

Afterwards I lectured him on not bringing in dirt in the house again, though. This was his answer: of course not, my darling!

To summarise this incident: my husband still visits the outdoors at night, however not as often as before. I warned him, too, of being careful because a bunch of men have been going missing lately and I’d be devastated if his name came up on of of those reports. I shouldn’t say this- but I will- I’m kind of happy those men are gone. I recognised their names and/or faces from the papers, you see. It turns out that all of them were ones I’d met previously. I won’t bore you with the details, but they weren’t pleasant encounters.

Everyday I have checked the floor for dirt and have found none. This is very good news for my ‘cleaning-spirit’. Whenever I feel Arlo leaving the bed I have decided to relax my mind and go back to sleep again. Then, if I’m still half-awake, I will feel him laying down beside me once more and together we drift off to dreamland.

The lesson I learned from this is that you don’t have to ‘fix’ everything about your partner, and they are allowed to have their special hobbies. There is a difference if you’re being harmed in the process, though. If that’s the case then you should immediately speak up about it and you compromise. Remember, communication is key!

———

Written by: (Y/n) (L/n)

#male yandere #oc #obsessed #yandere oc #possesive #misstycloud oc #Arlo oc #yandere husband x wife reader #How to stop your husband from being weird

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lost-in-lamentation · 11 months

Text

human world headcanons

a/n: i just know half of the brothers would break into the human world under the excuse of seeing their favourite human, only to be distracted 9 seconds later. and so; human world shenanigans.

═ ˎˊ˗

lucifer.

here's one that doesn't stray from his goal.

lucifer heads straight to your house (without warning).

but he forgets that you have work today; he also does not have the key to your front door.

your neighbours start to wonder if the strange man who has been sitting on your doorstep is lost.

one kind-hearted neighbour sends you a picture of the lonely demon on your porch, along with the message "he's been there for hours."

a fit of laughter and a 20 minute drive later, you embrace lucifer tightly.

"sorry, sorry," you manage to giggle out as he tries to scold you for not having your d.d.d. on you.

lucifer finally relents the harsh glare when you tell him you'll cook a special dinner for him.

═ ˎˊ˗

mammon.

he's distracted in all the right ways.

first, he grabs you a drink from your favourite human world café.

mammon will then head to the grocery store and look for your favourite snacks.

he's so focused on the task at hand that he doesn't notice you side eyeing him from two feet away.

when he finally does notice, he turns on his heel and ducks his head, trying to escape your gaze.

it's too late now, though; you've already got a hand on the edge of his jacket, yanking him towards you.

"mammon. does anyone know you're up here?"

"... you do."

"not good enough!"

═ ˎˊ˗

leviathan.

see, he really wishes he could be distracted.

after all, the human world has so many anime and manga goods stores that he wants to visit.

but being the shut-in he is, he'd rather wait inside your house until you have time to go out.

unlike a certain brother, he remembers the key to your door (mainly because he doesn't want to be stuck waiting outside).

he does also shoot you a quick text before he enters, just in case you're inside and he freaks you out, or in case you're out of the house.

you enjoy having levi over; he doesn't drag you back outside as soon as you've got one foot through the doorway.

but perhaps the real problem is getting him back out.

because, why leave when he can game without his brothers interrupting his boss level speed run?

═ ˎˊ˗

satan.

oh lawd he's NOT coming.

he saw a cat on the road; as far as you know, he's gone forever.

satan only stops when he sees a street library box, curiosity getting the better of him.

it's maybe a few hours later that he remembers to text you of his arrival in your realm.

you call him almost immediately, asking where he is, only for the blonde to respond "i'm not quite sure myself. i followed a cat here."

your eyebrow twitches, and you almost want to give satan a taste of his own wrathful medicine.

"if it helps, the cat was a tortoiseshell."

"how is that supposed to help?!"

═ ˎˊ˗

asmodeus.

luck is on his side today, as his walk to your place takes him right past the shopping district.

it may have also taken him inside a few stores.

meanwhile, you lounge around at home, blissfully unaware.

that is, until lucifer calls you with much urgency in his voice, saying "MC, please tell me asmodeus is with you."

your neighbours can hear you screaming from the inside of your car as you pull out of your driveway.

a part of you is grateful that it's asmodeus at the mall; although he spends, he's not quite as bad as his older brother.

when you finally find the demon in the shopping center, you grab hold of his scarf, dragging him and his bags towards your car.

"MC, wait! i haven't bought a good lip tint for you yet!"

═ ˎˊ˗

beelzebub.

unlike most of his brothers, beel makes it his priority to call you first thing upon arrival.

his second priority is to find the shop where that delicious smell is coming from.

"beel, do NOT move from where you are, or i swear i will call lucifer and have him drag you back to hell himself."

you're glad the shopping and food square is walking (sprinting) distance from your place.

in your panicked rush, you leave your front door wide open, leaving your neighbours to wonder what you're up to this time.

it's a good thing the avatar of gluttony is so tall; you find his orange head standing close to the decorative water fountain in the middle of the square.

"oh, MC. you must be hungry after running like that."

you can only plant your hands on your knees while catching your breath, and beel waits patiently for your approval to go grab a snack.

═ ˎˊ˗

belphegor.

does not call or text you when he heads up to the human world.

you're most likely to come home to him already knocked out cold on your couch.

belphie is a quiet sleeper, so it takes you a few minutes to actually realize that he's there.

when you do realize that he's there, you unwillingly release a yelp, waking up the sloth demon.

belphie's expression shifts from a glare to a smile when he remembers he's in your house and not the house of lamentation.

"welcome home," he mumbles sleepily, stretching his limbs out one by one.

"belphie, how many times do i have to tell you to text me before you come over?"

he shrugs in response, instead dragging you onto the couch for a well deserved nap with him.

a/n: praying that my demon bro bias does not glare anyone in the face with these headcanons. i'm soft for all of them, i swear.

#obey me #obey me swd #obey me luficer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #aris writes 🐈‍⬛#aris headcanons 🐈‍⬛#otome

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wh0re43van · 5 months

Note

You are great writer! Stumbled on that on set Evan fic and it was soooo good 🔥 Lol, I actually do work on set and you really captured the atmosphere tbh. Keep it up!

Not sure if you’re open to requests rn, but I would love your take on Evan and his partner trying to make a baby for the first time. He just seems so sweet and I’d love to think of this man in a happy marriage, daydreaming about little feet running around.

Thank you so much! I truly appreciate your kind words <33

So, I decided to make this two parts. This first part is just fluff, the readers get to see Evan in kind of a paternal role in this part, baby making will be in the next, I hope you enjoy!

Also ngl, I had this done for a couple of days now, I just couldn’t think of a title :/ so sorry about that. I’m awful with titles smh

Baby fever (Evan Peters X Reader) Pt. 1

Summary: While babysitting for Evans brother, you realize that you’re finally ready to have a baby, much to your husbands delight.

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: none in this part ;)

Pt2 Pt3

“Thank you again, I know it’s a bit short notice, “ Evans brother, Andrew, says as he closes the door behind him to step out onto the dim front porch with Evan, his daughter Ellie, and myself.

“Dude, It’s no problem really!” Even smiles, laying a gentle hand on his brother’s shoulder. “It’s always a joy having Ellie around,” he grunts as he picks up her small ‘Peppa Pig’ suitcase and her car seat.

“Yeah, Dad! They love me!” Ellie giggles as she grabs onto my arm. I smile at her snaggle toothed grin. The yellow light of the porch reflecting off her dark hair, making her curly pig tails look golden.

“They’re right Andrew,” I reiterate as we all begin to walk to Evans car, Ellie’s small hand in mine while the crickets chirp their evening song. “Now you go inside and help the Mrs. pack for your..uh.. trip. We’ve got it from here, “ I give Andrew a sympathetic smile, taking Ellie’s sippy cup out of his hand.

Andrews wife’s mother has been rushed to the hospital just a few hours ago and the couple is driving through the night to be there with her. They haven’t told Ellie the reason for the trip, all she knows is that she’s spending the weekend with Auntie y/n and Uncle Evan.

“Be sure to call me if you need anything or if Ellie just wants to talk, bye sweetie,” Andrew picks up his daughter, giving her kiss on the head.

“I love you daddy,” she giggles hugging him back quickly before trying to escape his embrace. “Let me down! I wanna go to Uncle Evans!” She Kicks her small light up sneakers, flashes of purple and red glow on the concrete as her feet hit the ground. Andrew just laughs. Thanking us again before making his way inside.

“Give me the suitcase babe, I’ll throw it in the back,” I take the pink bag out of Evans arms, walking to the trunk to toss it in.

I make my way around the vehicle to see Evan bent over struggling to get the carseat hooked in as Ellie hangs on his leg, both of them erupting in giggles.

“Ellie I can’t get this carseat in with you climbing all over me like that,” he laughs as he pulls at the locked seatbelt, trying to free it so he can stretch it through the back of the child’s seat. Ellie continues as if she hasn’t heard him, and Evan lets her. I smile at the pure joy beaming from my husband. He loves children dearly; his niece is no exception of course. He’s brought up starting a family of our own many times in the few years we’ve been married, I’ve just never felt quite ready with how much time away his job requires, but now things are slowing down and the idea of having a baby grows on me more every day.

“Now Ellie, how will we ever make it to our house if you don’t let Uncle Evan buckle your seat in?” I ask, giving her a stern look. She considers my statement, then reluctantly trudges over to me, leaning on my leg.

“Oh okay,” she frowns, looking up at me with her big hazel eyes.

“Done! … I think.” Evan exclaims, backing away from the vehicle. I stifle a laugh when I see the crooked car seat that he is ever so proud of. I simply walk up and adjust it before plopping Ellie in the seat and strap her in. Finally, we can go home.

•

After arriving home, we bring Ellie’s bag in to the room that she’ll be sleeping in, I take her down to the kitchen as Evan goes to change into some sleepwear. It’s a bit late, 7:00 pm and the sun’s already set for the night, but we’ve been informed that Ellie hasn’t had supper yet.

“Okay so you want a grilled cheese, we can do that, but you need to have a veggie as well,” I pick up Ellie and set her on the dining chair. She’s expressed that she wants a grilled cheese and only a grilled cheese. She even briefly tried to convince me that she’s allergic to all vegetables. “We have broccoli,” I pull a head of broccoli out of the fridge and set it on the table.

“Yuck!” The small girl rolls her tired eyes.

“Carrots,” I grab a bunch of fresh carrots, placing them in front of her.

“No way!” She shoves them away from her. I huff.

“Or we have green beans,” I reach into the pantry and set a jar of green beans next to the other veggies.

“Aunt y/n, you’re crazy. No thank you to all of them. Just a grilled cheese please,” she says in disgust, reaching for the bag of bread and block of cheese, sliding the ingredients closer to me.

“Ellie-“ I sigh, admittedly losing some patience.

“Oh wow look at all these super veggies that Aunt y/n has laid out for you. You’re lucky, she’s giving you the special ones,” Evan says coming around the corner, now in his pajamas, as he takes a seat next to his niece.

“What do you mean?” She inquires, raising a small eyebrow.

“Oh she didn’t tell you?” He gasps, shifting his gaze to wink at me. I stifle a laugh.

“These carrots,” he pulls the bunch to him. “They give you night vision.” He explains. Ellie considers his claim.

“What about this one,” she hands him the head of broccoli.

“Oh this? It just gives you super speed, no big deal I guess if you don’t want to be the next quicksilver,” he says nonchalantly, tossing the head of broccoli in between his hands. Ellie gasps, her eyes light up.

“I want this one!” She grabs the green veggie and hands it to me. “Please.” She adds, remembering her manners. I laugh.

“Don’t you want to hear about the green beans?” Evens asks, standing up from his seat.

“No thank you. Super speed please!” She crosses her hands on the table, awaiting her superpowers. Evan takes the broccoli from my grasp, turning to grab a cutting board.

“I got it honey, go upstairs and get ready for bed,” he kisses my forehead. I smile and thank him before making my way to our bedroom.

•

I change into some comfy pajamas and do my nightly routine of skincare and brushing my teeth before padding down the steps. Before I peak my head around the corner I hear Evan shout,

“One more time… GO!” followed by the quick stomping of tiny feet. I clear the corner to see the furniture pushed out of the way and Ellie hurtling full speed towards me. She runs right into my stomach, nearly knocking the wind out of me.

“Jesus,” I wheeze. Ellie giggles boisterously with a toothless smile.

“I’m sorry Auntie y/n,” she manages to choke out as she falls to the ground in her fit of laughter. I look to my husband with wide eyes, trying to process what happened.

“Hey don’t look at me babe, it was the supper broccoli. Hopefully it will wear off soon,” he says genuinely, putting his hands up in defense. I can’t help but laugh.

I take a moment to admire the sight of my husband standing in his sweatpants and old stained shirt draped loosely on his toned body. His beautiful brown curls that are just a bit overdue for a trim sticking out every which way, yet resting perfectly on his soft features, and his scruff filling in more and more every day that he’s doesn’t shave. The gorgeous man in front of me, smiling from ear to ear with the purest of joy in his chocolate eyes makes my heart sing. He’s truly in his element right now. The elation coming from Ellie and Evan is contagious, I find myself in a fit of laughter as well as Ellie crawls up my legs and onto my back.

“Your turn to race Auntie y/n!” She cheers.

“No, no not tonight honey,” I disappoint her with my response.

“We have to clean up and get you ready for bed,” I walk over to Evan, passing the girl on my back into his grasp. “Which will be Uncle Evans job since he’s the one that wound you up,” I raise my eye brows at him. Ellie happily rests in his arms bridal style, her gummy grin never leaving her face.

“Hey, don’t give me that look,” he begins to walk towards the steps. “You’re the one that gave Ellie speed enhancing veggies,” he reminds me, almost fooling me as well, with how serious his tone and expression are.

I roll my eyes as I turn to put our living room back together.

‘You’d think Evan would know not have a 6 year old run laps around the house half an hour before bedtime.’ I sigh as I push our couch back into place. As irritated as I want to be, I can’t help but feel giddy. Seeing how happy Evan is with Ellie makes my heart swell with joy.

‘Maybe I will discuss having a baby with him.’ I think to myself as I replace our rug and coffee table back into the center of the room.

‘But having a child isn’t always fun. It’s much different having your own child than babysitting.’ I make note to remind him as I shove our recliner back to its designated spot.

‘And pregnancy can be complicated’ I’ll have to tell him. ‘I hope mine won’t be, but it is something you have to prepare for’ I’ll explain. He’s not the one getting pregnant so I know this may not be something he’ll consider.

I make my way to the kitchen to begin stacking the dishwasher with what little dishes Evan left in the sink before he went to destroying our living room.

‘And what will we do if you get a big job and have to fly halfway across the country while I’m in labor or freshly postpartum?’ I’ll be sure to ask. I begin to make myself nervous considering all my concerns.

‘And what if-‘

“She’s laying down,” Evans comforting voice breaks me from my thoughts. I can hear the smile as he speaks. I don’t even need to look up. “Once I finally convinced her that there is no goblin living in our guest room closet, she crawled right in bed,” his voice gets closer as he moves to wrap his strong arms around my waist, I lean back to rest my head on his shoulder, taking in his familiar scent. I turn to look up at him. I don’t know how his dimples haven’t popped right off his face from how much he’s been smiling this evening.

“Let’s have a baby,” I blurt out, looking into the pure joy glinting in his eyes. The joy turns to shock. He grabs my shoulders, spinning me around so he can search my eyes for any hint of joking. There isn’t any.

“Are you serious y/n?” He asks. The smile now just his jaw dropped to the floor, his eyes wide and his eyebrows raised so high that they’re hidden behind his curls. I chuckle at his reaction, my chest warming at how excited that one sentence has made him.

“Yes,” I simply answer. He matches my smile, pulling me into his chest so tight it almost hurts, but I don’t say anything.

“I want nothing more than that y/n,” he mumbles to the crook of my neck. I wiggle out of his grip enough to meet his gaze, seeing his mahogany eyes glistening. He blinks and a single tear threatens to escape though his long lashes. He reaches a hand up quickly to wipe the happiness attempting to leak from his eye.

“Let’s do it,” I grin. Every doubt, every concern, flying quickly out of my mind. The speech I was going to give him about the dangers and responsibilities of childbearing now long gone after seeing how happy the idea of us having our very own bundle of joy is making Evan.

“I love you so much y/n Peters,” he pulls me into a soft kiss, his lips warm against mine. I reach my hands up to bury my fingers in his curls.

“And I love you Evan Peters,” I smile against his lips. Though this kiss is gentle, but it is easily the most intimate kiss we’ve had. I can feel the adoration with every breath that fans over my face. “I think we should try as soon as Ellie goes home,” I suggest, pulling away from the kiss, resting my forehead on his.

“You wouldn’t reckon my brothers on his way home now, would you?” He jokes as he reaches down to grab my hands. Running his thumbs over my knuckles.

“I’m not even sure they’re out of the state yet Ev,” I smile at my husband. He brings both my hands up to his mouth, kissing each one gently.

“I suppose I can wait,” he sighs. I giggle, grabbing his arm to guide him to our room.

“Let’s check on Ellie one more time, then we can head to bed ourselves,” I whisper as we walk towards the guest room.

“You seriously expect me to be able to sleep, Honey? I feel like a kid on Christmas Eve night,” he flashes his dimples, I roll my eyes and smile at his excitement.

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bellaxgiornata · 27 days

Text

Safe Haven [Chapter Seventeen]

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.9k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains violence, drug use, domestic abuse, smut, hurt/comfort, angst, mutual pining, friends to lovers

a/n: Finally y'all get the other part of the night after that meeting with Birdy, Frank, and Jimmy! Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @loveroftoomanyfandoms @farfromstrange @rotscinema @1988-fiend @shouldbestudying41 @shiorimakibawrites @norestfortheshelbywicked @mattmurdocksstarlight @acharliecoxedfan @roseallisonparker @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift @theetherealbloom @24hflower @mattmurdocksscars @schneeflocky @the-nursery @lionalsowrites @harperdoodle @kmc1989 @danzer8705 @mattys-rat1989 @kezibear

Arms wrapped tight over your chest, you began to make your way down the drive as the bitter wind blew around you. Behind you, you heard the sound of Michael closing Birdy's front door before his heavy footsteps soon caught up with you along the pavement. Your anticipation of an angry outburst from him only rose with each thump of his boots, the hammering of your heart pounding in sync with them.

“What were ya thinkin’ goin’ out like that alone, Grace?” Michael hissed out between his teeth as he fell in step beside you. “D'ya have any idea how reckless that was? How close ya could've been to gettin’ yourself killed tonight?”

You blew out a rough breath in frustration, your eyes focused on your own feet as you walked. Of course you were aware of how stupid and dangerous it had been for you to meet that Serpent alone, but you hadn't really had another option. And it certainly wasn't like you wanted to go to that meeting, either.

Glancing over your shoulder, you took in the sight of Michael beside you. Despite the way the tension had eased from his body and the way the fire had mostly left his eyes once he'd gotten away from his family, you could still see the fear and anger lingering in them as the lights from the Garda car parked farther down the street lit him in a wash of blue and red.

“Of course I damn well know that it was dangerous,” you told him. “But I didn't have a choice. He knows who I am. And not only that, but Birdy was the one to see him leaving the letter to meet him in my sister’s letterbox , Michael. Meaning he knows where both her and I live. What was I supposed to do?” you asked, irritation in your own voice. “Was I just supposed to ignore the letter and put my sister in danger? Because that seemed like the far more reckless and stupid option.”

“No, I wouldn't expect ya to just ignore it,” he snapped back, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets. “But ya saw me before ya were headin’ out. Ya should’ve damn well said somethin’ to me! Ya shouldn't have dealt with this alone!”

“It was my problem to deal with!” you snapped back, keeping your voice low so as not to draw attention from the Garda. “I didn't come to Dublin expecting help with my situation! And I'm sure as shit glad I didn't say anything to you because I'm sure that Serpent would've happily shot you on sight if you'd come with me tonight!”

Michael loosed an irritated grunt at your words as he followed you up your sister’s drive. Her car was parked in front of the house and the sight of it shot a pang of guilt through you. You'd told her you were going out to work at a coffee shop before her shift at the hospital ended, and that had been quite awhile ago now. With everything that had happened tonight, you'd forgotten to let her know that you were alright. She was probably worried about you by now, wondering what coffee shop was open quite this late at night.

“I can take care of myself,” Michael said, his tone sharp. “It isn't your job to look out for me.”

Your teeth grit together as your hand dug into your pants pocket, feeling for the key to Megan's house as the pair of you approached the front door. As much as you'd felt safe with Michael lately, your situation wasn't his to take on. Especially with what he already had going on with his family and his health. You weren't going to dump your problems onto him, too.

“Well it isn't your job to look out for me, either,” you shot back. “I'd been doing just–just fine on my own for years, Michael. I don't need you or your family risking your lives for me.” Your hand shook as you inserted the key into the lock, intentionally keeping your focus away from him. “I don't need anymore people’s lives weighing on my conscience.”

You twisted the door handle with more roughness than necessary, pushing the door open and eager for a chance to get away from Michael’s wrath for the night. You just wanted to end this shitty day already, but his hand darted out and grabbed you by the wrist, halting you in place on the front step. Your head turned sharply in his direction, prepared to tell him to leave you alone tonight, but the unexpected softness on his face immediately gave you pause.

“Grace, I–”

“Oh my God ,” Megan's voice rang through the house, cutting Michael clean off. “You've been gone for hours! Where the hell have you been? I was starting to get–”

Megan appeared around the corner from the kitchen and immediately stopped dead in her tracks when she saw you. Her eyes darted from you to Michael and then straight to the bandage on your forehead. Her mouth fell open as her eyes grew wide.

“What the hell happened?” she asked you. Her panicked gaze shifted to Michael before you could even answer as she roughly demanded, “What the hell happened to her? Why is she coming home with a bandage?”

“Nothing to worry yourself about,” you grumbled as you stepped into the house, slipping loose from Michael’s grasp before you began to take off your boots. “So leave him out of it.”

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Megan’s face contort into something stern as she crossed her arms over her chest. Her hardened stare fixed on Michael as he stepped inside the house a moment later, closing the door softly behind himself. Inwardly you braced yourself for another outburst–this time from your sister.

“Like hell I'm leaving him out of this!” she exclaimed, throwing a hand in his direction. “I’m not stupid, Grace. I know you weren’t at a coffee shop writing tonight. You don’t even have your laptop with you! And then you come home late with a bandage on your forehead that I damn well know wasn’t there the last time I saw you! So what the hell is going on? How’d you get hurt? And one of you better fucking answer me with the damn truth!”

“A low ranking Serpent discovered who I actually am,” you said with a sigh, pulling your last boot off of your foot. “He left a message for me to meet with him tonight in the letterbox. Birdy saw him. I didn’t exactly have a choice to not go considering what he already knew. I didn't want to worry or involve you which is why I said I’d be at the coffee shop.”

Megan immediately sucked in a sharp breath, her entire body freezing. For a moment the only sound was Michael behind you, slowly taking his own boots off. Apparently he wasn’t done reprimanding you for the evening.

“So does that mean you need to leave again? Find somewhere new to hide?” she breathed out, her body still stiff. “Is he telling the entire charter? Is Victor on his way?”

You shook your head, running a tired hand along your forehead, careful to avoid the wounded side of it. Everything was finally beginning to catch up to you from today, your body starting to feel completely exhausted from all the stress and fear. You just wanted to collapse on your bed and maybe–if you were lucky–fall into a dreamless sleep where you could forget about absolutely everything for just a short while.

“I’m not leaving, not just yet,” you assured her, brushing past her and making your way down the hall to the sitting room. “He’s after something else and he’s just trying to threaten me with calling in Victor for now.”

“And is that supposed to make me feel any better?” she asked, following closely on your heels. “What could he possibly want from you?”

You sunk into the cushions of the sofa, your body aching as you did. As your attention shifted towards your sister, you spotted Michael entering the room just over her shoulder. He leant against the doorframe to the sitting room, hanging his head almost shamefully as he stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets.

“Me,” Michael muttered. “He wants me.”

Megan’s brows arched up onto her forehead in surprise, her head turning over her shoulder to focus on Michael curiously.

“I can’t give ya any details–family business and all,” he explained, his voice quiet. “But he’s after me. It’s my fault he’s after your sister, that he even knows who she is.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you shook your head. “No, that’s not true,” you disagreed. “He’s after me because of my psychotic ex. This has nothing to do with you.”

Michael’s head rose, his sad eyes meeting yours from across the room. The frustration you’d felt towards him a few minutes ago quickly dissipated at the sight of the pain visible on his face.

“But he was the one tailin’ us after I took ya out for coffee, wasn’t he? That’s how he found out ‘bout ya, isn’t it?” Michael pressed. “He was after me and found ya in the process. So it's my fault he knows who ya really are.”

You pulled a face immediately, your mouth opening to counter his argument. But Megan held out her hands, the gesture quieting both of you.

“Let's not turn this into a battle of who's to blame,” she said, turning her focus back on you. “So the problem stands that someone in the nearby charter knows you’re Victor’s ex and that you’re here. What the hell is being done about that? Because I’m guessing you’re not about to give up your boyfriend to the MC.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you corrected her, your cheeks heating as you avoided Michael’s stare. “And yes, something is being figured out. Like I said, you don’t need to worry about anything right now. I’ll handle it, okay? But honestly after tonight, all I want to do is go to sleep. I’m fucking tired and I just…don’t want to think anymore. It’s late.”

“Fine,” Megan relented. “But are you okay?”

“Yes,” you assured her.

Megan’s eyes narrowed at you before she turned, focusing on Michael across the room. She threw a thumb in your direction and you rolled your eyes when she spoke.

“Is she really alright?” she asked him.

“Took a good hit to the head with the butt of a gun,” he told her, pausing when Megan let out a hiss. “But I think she’s alrigh’ despite that. Though I…was plannin’ on offerin’ to stay the night here if ya didn’t mind, Megan. Sleep on the sofa down here just to make sure that Serpent doesn’t show back up in the middle of the night or anythin’.” A sheepish smile crossed his lips as he added quietly, “I’d feel better knowin’ ya weren’t both here alone.”

“You know, I’d probably actually feel better if you stayed here too after finding all this out,” Megan told him. “So it’s fine by me. I can try to find some more comfortable pillows–”

“What’s there is already fine,” he assured her. “I don’t need anythin’ more, really.”

“Okay, well,” Megan began awkwardly, her eyes darting between you and Michael as she took a step back towards the staircase. “I’ll just go get ready for bed now that you’re finally home safe. I’ve got another early shift in the morning tomorrow.”

Michael nodded his head, smiling at her and murmuring a soft ‘goodnight.’ You watched as your sister made her way quietly up the stairs, shooting you a curious last glance over her shoulder before she disappeared from sight. And then it was just you and Michael in the room.

A silence fell over the pair of you as he remained standing over by the sitting room entrance. Your gaze fell to your hands nervously fidgeting in your lap, aware of the weight of the gun in your jacket pocket once again. Most likely in a few days you’d have to use it. And you certainly hoped you could, when the time came for it.

“I think I’m just going to head to bed,” you eventually said, breaking the silence when it started to feel suffocating.

“Alrigh’,” Michael replied softly.

For the second time this evening you felt your stomach sink to your feet as you rose from the sofa. You were certain you’d somehow gone and messed things up with Michael when you’d lied to him about where you were going earlier and he’d found out. He'd certainly seemed pissed at you for that.

But maybe that’s for the best, you told yourself as you made your way up the stairs. Maybe I shouldn’t get attached. If I need to run again soon, feelings would just make that harder.

Gasping for air, you woke up with a cold sheen of sweat covering your skin. Your eyes flew around the mostly darkened bedroom as you tried to orient yourself while your heart thundered away in your chest. Fear spiking within you at the lingering memory of his voice in your ear, you swore you could feel the cold blade of a knife pressed to your stomach.

Feeling like the bedsheets themselves were trying to hold you down, you began wildly flailing in an attempt to throw them off of you, swinging your arms and feet as you tried to free yourself. A few tears slipped out of your eyes as you did, your panicked mind still replaying threats on repeat.

It was a few moments before you’d finally untangled yourself from the sheets, scrambling backwards against the headboard and sitting upright. Your chest was heaving as you tried to catch your breath, the back of your hand running along your sweat-dampened forehead gently.

“Just a nightmare,” you whispered to yourself. “Not real. He’s not here.”

But he’s looking for you. And this time he’s probably going to do more than add another scar if he finds you.

Bottom lip rolling between your teeth, your right hand reached down, sliding the hem of your shirt upwards a little. You lightly brushed your fingertips over the three gashes on your abdomen that had scarred over. A brand to your skin that you’d never be able to remove, permanently marking you as his . A strangled noise slipped out of you and you clamped your teeth down harder, trying to quiet the sound.

“Grace?”

You audibly gasped as your head spun towards the sound of your name, your pulse speeding at the fear of an intruder. But in the faint light filtering in past your curtains, you could make out the sight of Michael standing halfway in the doorway, a look of concern etched across his features.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle ya,” he whispered. “Just thought I heard somethin’ from downstairs and I figured I’d make sure things were alright’.”

“I’m fine,” you muttered, quickly lowering your shirt. “Just had a bad dream but I’m fine.”

The bedroom door swung open just a bit wider and you watched as Michael stepped slowly into the bedroom. The corners of your lips curved downwards as you continued to try to calm your breathing. If he was up here to lecture you again, you certainly weren’t interested in hearing it.

“D’ya wanna talk ‘bout it?” he offered.

“No,” you answered simply.

Michael nodded, taking another hesitant step into the bedroom and closing the door partially behind himself as he did. His other hand ran over the back of his neck as he ducked his head. You watched him wordlessly, drawing your legs up towards your chest.

“‘M’sorry ‘bout the way I went off on ya earlier,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t have done that. Ya were scared and tryin’ to do what ya thought was right. But ya…ya scared me, if I’m bein’ honest.”

Your tongue darted out, licking your lips nervously. That was not what you’d expected to hear him say after the way things had played out earlier.

“If somethin’ had happened to ya–especially because o’ me–I don't think I could forgive myself,” he murmured, shifting back and forth on his feet as he focused on the bedroom floor.

“I told you already, it wasn't your fault,” you replied.

“Except it is,” he stated firmly, glancing up at you through the darkness. “That Serpent is lookin’ for a way to get to me. To kill me . And unfortunately you're gettin’ dragged into all my shit because of the things I did. And I can't forgive myself for that.”

You hugged your arms around your knees, guilt flooding you as you pulled them tighter to your chest. You realized that he had probably reacted the way he had tonight because of the accident which had resulted in his ex-wife's passing. Something he didn't know you knew about yet. It made sense then why he was so determined to protect you, and why he refused to let you be the one to take the risk killing the Serpent. He didn’t want your death on his conscience, either. Because it was apparent he'd find a way to blame himself for it no matter what.

“How about we both agree this mess is a combination of both of our problems?” you suggested quietly.

“I would, but the difference is that I actually did things to deserve to be in this mess,” Michael told you. “Whereas ya didn't do anythin’ to deserve the fuckin’ shitty situation your ex has put ya in.”

“Okay,” you said, shooting him a sad smile, “I think I agree with what Megan said earlier. Let's not play the blame game. Pointing fingers at ourselves won't change the situation anyway.”

“Mmm,” Michael hummed. “I s'pose ya got a point.”

Another silence fell between the pair of you, though this one was vastly less uncomfortable than the previous one in the sitting room. You chewed your lip nervously as Michael stood beside your bed, his eyes clearly focused on you through the dark. His presence was beginning to soothe you the longer he stayed and you soon found yourself not wanting him to go back downstairs. Especially not after that nightmare. Despite your better judgment, you found yourself wanting to ask for what you really wanted for once.

“Can I…ask you a favor?” you whispered.

“Always,” Michael replied immediately.

Eyes falling down towards the bed, one of your hands dropped down to your side. Nervously your fingers fidgeted with the sheets, twisting them as you tried to find the courage to ask him to stay here with you. Part of you knew it was safer and smarter to stop letting him get closer to you, especially with danger already looming on the horizon. But the other part of you craved the comfort he always somehow managed to bring you, something you hadn't felt in a long time.

“Could you maybe…stay with me?” you asked, shyly looking back up at him. “Just for tonight?”

“O’course,” he answered. “I'm here whenever ya need me.”

Michael made his way around the foot of the bed, your eyes following his form through the darkness as he did. You saw him pull something out of the waistband at the back of his jeans, realizing a moment later it was the gun he'd had earlier. He set it onto the nightstand before he turned, adjusting the rumpled mess you'd made of the sheets on the bed and pulling them back up before he climbed onto the mattress himself.

You began to slide back down along the headboard, rolling onto your side towards him and slipping back beneath the sheets. As he settled onto the mattress next to you, he turned onto his side, facing you in return. A bit of moonlight crept in just around the edge of your curtains, a thin ray of it illuminating part of his face in all the blackness. The corners of his lips were curved upwards just the faintest bit.

“Didn't think ya would want me with ya tonight,” Michael murmured.

Your stomach fluttered at his words and the position you'd found yourself in with him. Both of you were barely half a foot apart from each other now, eyes locked on one another. You could feel the warmth of his body radiating off of him and heating you beneath the sheets. Your hand clutched tighter to your pillow as you fought the urge to wrap it around him and pull yourself closer to him instead, desperate for connection.

“You make me feel safe,” you confessed, the words falling out of your mouth before you could stop them. “And less alone. For the first time in a long time.”

Gradually Michael’s hand slipped up out of the sheets, reaching out towards you and gently landing on your cheek. His fingertips lightly brushed away a few strands of hair before they affectionately began to lightly stroke your skin. You could feel your heart beating harder in your chest under his touch, the sound of it loud to your own ears. Your skin was beginning to heat beneath his fingers and your own only curled tighter around your pillowcase.

“Ya do the same for me, pet,” he whispered back.

Your breath caught in your throat at his words. You hadn't expected him to tell you that. You also hadn't expected it to feel so good to hear him tell you that, either.

Michael shifted on the bed, sliding closer to you as his palm cradled your cheek. Your eyelids fluttered shut the moment you felt his soft lips press a lingering kiss to your forehead. A warm, pleasant sensation felt like it was racing up your spine the longer his mouth remained pressed against your forehead. It was a feeling that felt a lot like safety and acceptance.

Without thinking, your hand released the pillow and darted out, wrapping its way around Michael as your fingers clutched at his back. You drew your body in tight against his, raising your head from the pillow as you did. Michael’s lips faltered along your forehead at the movement, but you quickly caught his lips with yours in his brief surprise.

He didn’t pull away or hesitate. Instead, his own mouth molded itself to yours, his hand sliding its way down your cheek and resting along your neck, pulling you in closer to him to deepen the kiss. He kissed you back with such intensity that your fingers fisted his shirt in your grasp, your mind going blank to everything except how good this moment felt. How good he made you feel.

But unfortunately the kiss ended far sooner than you'd have liked.

Michael pulled away only a fraction from you, the tip of his nose affectionately brushing the tip of yours. You could just make out the little smile on his lips in the dark, the sight almost leaving you as breathless as that kiss had.

“For what it's worth,” he whispered, thumb caressing the line of your jaw tenderly, “I'm glad ya found yourself here in Dublin.”

Your hand released the tight grip on his shirt, sliding its way up from out of the sheets and up towards his face. Your own fingertips gently toyed with the dark hairs of his beard, your eyes watching the smile on his face grow wider, his eyes crinkling at the corners. What you wouldn’t give to always see him smile like that.

“I'm glad I found you,” you whispered back.

For however long I can have you.

#michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella angst #michael kinsella fluff #michael kinsella x you #michael kinsella #kin bbc

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greghatecrimes · 3 days

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Okay. Buckle up babes, it's finally Foreteen time and I wrote an essay.

Foreman and Thirteen are so interesting to me in so many ways. You have Foreman, who thrives off of control, and Thirteen, who refuses to be controlled in almost every aspect of her life. In the sense of them as individual people, they both have a lot of their own issues going on. Hot messes, the two of them. But in the sense of them as a couple, I think Foreman specifically is the only one who has issues with the relationship. (Or rather, Thirteen's issues aren't being projected onto the relationship and causing difficulties at the end of s5/beginning of s6, while Foreman's are.)

Foreman's biggest thing, at least in the latter part of their relationship, is control in regards to emotions. After they found Kutner, he coped with everything by isolating himself. A huge part of me thinks that's because this terrible thing just happened, the floor just fell out from both of them in so many ways, and Foreman feels like he doesn't have a grip on anything anymore. The only thing he can control is himself, and how he reacts. So Thirteen? Even though she's his girlfriend and he's worked with her for two years, her emotions and reactions are fundamentally beyond the scope of his control; she's still a wild card. She's not safe. So instead of letting himself lean on Thirteen, letting them grieve together, letting them comfort each other, for his own stability, Foreman chooses to cope (and thus reject Thirteen when she reaches out for support) by retreating into an environment that he's intimately familiar with. He surrounds himself with only variables that he can confidently predict. It's his gut instinct. It's always worked before, so why wouldn't it work this time? Why would it have any reason to cause problems?

In season four and the first half of season five, Thirteen was very much the same way. When things became too overwhelming for her, she repeatedly dealt with them by running, by hiding; by trying to isolate herself from the people who care about her and want to help her. The same base principle drives them both at this point: "what's out of my control is dangerous in some way or another. The only one who's safe to be around is myself, because I am the only person that I can control." But by mid season five, Thirteen has come a long way from that. Slowly she's becoming much more of a "recovering control freak". She's starting to be okay with the fact that she's not always going to have the amount of control that she has right now. She knows that all of it is something she has to come to terms with, and slowly she's getting to a point where she's accepting her diagnosis and working on all the baggage that comes with it.

Thinking about that– the fact that, by mid season five, Thirteen is approaching a point in her life of letting go, of learning to 'go with the flow'; while Foreman is very much still on the side of "I thrive and keep myself safe by controlling every aspect of my life possible"– makes them fundamentally incompatible as a couple from the get-go, even with all of the chemistry they had. Because the moment they get together (the Christmas party in 5x10 "Joy to the World") is right after Thirteen's decided that she doesn't want to die; when she's just starting to process her diagnosis instead of running from it.

Do I think there was/is love there? Yes. They absolutely care about each other, both during and after the relationship.

Do I think they would have worked out long term? The simple answer is "no".

The more complicated answer is that if they had been able to avoid the fiasco of Foreman running the department and then firing Thirteen after House quit, I think they could have made it work. But it would have been rocky, and it would have been especially rough for Foreman. Extremely so if it were to reach a point where they've stayed together for years and years, and Foreman is with Thirteen when she really starts to decline with her Huntington's.

Foreman is Thirteen's friend; he's also seen people slowly wither away from degenerative disease (his mother, with Alzheimer's), and he's a neurologist (and so he knows exactly how she'll decline, down to every last detail). All of those things give him greater emotional stakes in her Huntington's diagnosis beyond what's typical. But specifically in the situation of them facing this as a couple, you have this level of involvement where Foreman– someone who needs a high amount of control to function on a fairly basic level– is in an incredibly intimate relationship with Thirteen, whose entire life is inevitably and actively slipping out of her control. And in that scenario... I think that when the decline does start happening, it would absolutely terrify Foreman. To be the one that's by her side as a partner– seeing all of it firsthand, the pain and grief and sickness? And as her significant other, being the one that would potentially become a medical proxy when she's too sick to advocate for herself, faced with the possibility of making life or death decisions (like whether or not to euthanize the woman he loves)? I think that would have the potential to utterly destroy him.

As a friend, though? ("Ex-partners who have gotten back to a shaky friendship after the breakup, and still care about each other deeply", but "friends" for short.) The entire situation completely changes. I firmly believe that post-canon, if Foreman knows House offered to kill Thirteen before he "died", he would offer to kill her in House's stead in a heartbeat (just like I think Chase does). THAT sort of involvement with Thirteen's decline and care is far less terrifying, because now this is not the decline of someone that he's based his entire future on. This is not someone he's given half of his heart to; this is not someone he's built an entire life with and entwined himself so thoroughly with.

With the way things work out in canon, they're still friends, and they still care about each other; but at the end of the day, they're two separate people with two separate lives, two separate futures. And so Foreman doesn't lose a single ounce of his control as Thirteen's is slowly taken from her, bit by bit. Witnessing that is still a pain that is unimaginable. But for him, it's survivable. And that's the key difference (and why I ship Foreteen during season five and season six, but not post canon).

#this has been sitting as a bunch of voice memos in me and Bee's discord convos for MONTHS and i'm so happy to finally write it out #doomed yuri vibes and i can make another post to elaborate on that at some point #i love them a lot even when they hurt me #house md #hate crimes md #hatecrimes md #remy thirteen hadley #eric foreman #remy hadley #foreteen #my meta #meta

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pankowperfection · 1 year

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Taking what's mine

Summary: JJ gets tired of your teasing, taking matters into his own hands

Warnings: smut, bondage, CNC, dub-con, JJ's dirty mouth, slight degradation, spanking, choking, oral (male & fem receiving), orgasm denial, rough sex, 18+

Another summer night, another bonfire party filled with drunk girls throwing themselves at me. But the only girl I'm interest in is y/n. She's been teasing me for weeks, eyeing me like a predator watching its prey at every single party.

She's wearing those shorts that she knows drive me crazy, barely covering her delicious ass. She makes her way over to me, throwing her legs over my lap as she leans in to kiss my cheek.

"Hi J. You look so good in this green shirt, just thought you should know." She pulls back and god I want to wipe that smirk off her face. Her manicured nails rake down over my chest to my abs, my dick stirring to life in my shorts at her proximity and her touch.

"Is that right princess? Good enough for you to finally make a move?"

What she does next surprises me, positioning herself on my lap and wrapping her arms around my neck. Before I can question what she's doing she's kissing me, her perfect lips moving against mine and making my head spin.

I circle one arm around her waist, pulling her tighter against me as the other winds into her hair, angling her head so I can deepen the kiss. When my tongue pushes into her mouth she moans, tugging on my hair roughly and making me even harder than before.

It's over as quick as it starts. She pulls away, climbing off of me and straightening out her hair. "Come on y/n, enough with the teasing. Let me take you home." I push to my feet, trying to grab a hold of her hand but she slips through my fingers once again, just like the sand on the beach.

"Sorry J, not tonight. Gotta get home before my parents do." She blows me a kiss, turning and walking up the beach towards her car. Little does show know I'm tired of this cat and mouse game. If she wants me to chase her, I will. Let's just hope she likes what happens when I catch her.

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

I wait in my truck until all the lights are out in the house, wanting to make sure I won't be interrupted. I quietly climb the tree outside of her window, grinning to myself when I find it already open to let the cool ocean breeze blow inside.

She looks so pretty, sprawled out mostly on her stomach with her legs spread wide, silently inviting me to come closer. I slip my bandana off my neck, tip toeing to the edge of her bed and praying she's not a light sleeper. I wrap the material around her wrists, securing them together behind her back.

"Oh you're mine now sweetheart."

Excitement floods through me at all the possibilities. She shifts onto her back, giving me the perfect view of her barely covered tits and I can't help the rush of blood below my belt. I make myself comfortable between her thighs, dragging my fingers over her smooth skin. She stirs slightly, shifting to try to get closer to my hand and I know I'm in for a fun night.

My hands make their way under her poor excuse of a tank top, massaging each breast before starting to tease her nipples. My lips press softly against her upper thigh and she moans, eyes starting to open as I make my way closer to her soaking pussy.

Before she has time to process I lean down, pulling her shorts to the side and licking a stripe from her hole to her clit. Her hips buck but I force them down, holding them open with my hands as I start to run my tongue through her folds as slowly as I can.

"JJ? What are you doing? Why am I tied up?" She starts to thrash around, trying to get free but its no use. I easily hold her down, sponging kisses all around her pussy but not quite where she wants it.

"You see princess, I'm really tired of you of you getting me all hot and bothered then slipping away. So now I'm gonna take what I want."

I sit up on my knees, pulling of the green shirt she apparently loves so much and throwing it behind me. Her eyes rake down over my body, pupils blown with lust as she gets an up close look at me. My shorts and boxers follow after, her gaze locked on my hard on as I start to stroke myself.

"Wait J, please, no. I don't want this. I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong idea."

I crawl back over her body, settling between her pretty thighs once again as I drag my fingers through her slit.

"Is that so? Then why are you so wet for me baby? Pussy doesn't lie, and yours is begging for me right now."

When I tap her glistening hole with my tip she shivers, trying hard not to look like she wants it even though her body is screaming for me to fill her.

"J please," she pleads and it just makes me want her more.

"Shhh. This isn't the part where you beg me. Not yet."

I just barely press inside, only giving her the tip and loving how her eyes roll into the back of her head.

"Try to be quiet. Wouldn't want your parents to find me in your bed and see what a kinky little slut you are, would you?"

I can't wait anymore. I snap my hips forward, filling her to the brim in one go, forcing me to bite my own lip hard to hold in the loud moan from feeling her hot walls wrapped around me.

She's squeezing me like a fucking vice grip, my abs tensing as I struggle to control myself. The idea was to torture her like she's tortured me, not go crazy in the first few minutes and fuck her into oblivion.

"Feel what you do to me sweetheart?"

I rock forward slightly, grazing her sweet spot and making her groan, her walls clenching down on me even tighter.

My hand finds her throat and I squeeze lightly, her eyes flying open to meet mine as I start to fuck her slow and deep.

"This is for all those times you teased me but didn't do anything to help. All those times I had to make myself cum with my own hand to the thought of you."

My pace gets faster, her tits bouncing deliciously in front of me as I fill her again and again. My free hand toys with her nipples, twisting each one as she arches her back under me. When I feel her walls fluttering I force myself to stop, pulling out and watching the frustration wash over her features at being denied her high.

"What the hell J? I was almost there."

I chuckle, rolling her to her stomach and pulling her hips up until her ass is high in the air for me. I can't resist the temptation, landing a sharp smack to her left cheek that instantly starts to redden.

"You think after weeks of torturing me I'm gonna let you cum that easily? No princess. You wanna cum, you're gonna have to beg me."

I push in slowly this time, watching closely as each inch disappears. She moans so loud the neighbors probably hear her, forcing me to wrap my hand over her mouth as her back meets my chest. "What did I say about being quiet?"

This angle is deeper, her moans growing in frequency as she works to meet my thrusts. I start kissing her neck, quickly finding her sweet spot and sucking a deep bruise into her flawless skin, claiming my territory.

My other hand finds her clit, rubbing in soft circles that have her trembling in my arms. "J please, I need to cum." I feel her tensing, her wetness seeping down her thighs, forcing me to slow my thrusts down to once again deny her.

"Sorry princess, only good girls get to cum and I don't think you've learned your lesson yet."

I reposition us once again, laying down on my back and pulling her to sit over my face. As I drag my fingers up her inner thigh she leans forward, coming to rest on my abs with my cock in her face. She takes the lead, sticking out her tongue and flicking it over the tip.

"Jesus baby. That's it, suck my cock and maybe I'll let you cum this time."

She makes quick work of my length, sucking me deep into the back of her throat and humming around me. God her mouth is like heaven, my balls already tightening at the feeling of her tongue tracing my shaft.

When my fingers tease her entrance once again she moans, the vibrations making my toes curl. I plunge two inside, setting a fast pace as my tongue works over her clit. The more of me she takes the more I give her, sucking her clit into my mouth and rolling it with my tongue.

She grows more desperate, throwing her hips back into my face as I replace my fingers with my tongue. Her head bobs faster, sucking me as hard as she can while her tongue massages my dick. She hollows her cheeks, giving me all she's got and earning what she wants. My balls tighten before I release, coating her tongue with my cum.

My moans push her over the edge, her thighs clamping down on my head as I continue to tongue fuck her through it. She lets me go with a pop, pressing kisses to my v lines as we both come down. I reach up to untie her wrists, rolling her off of me before leaning down to kiss her again.

This time is softer, my anger and annoyance gone after getting to take my frustrations out on her body. She wraps herself around me, pulling me on top of her while her hands push into my hair. "Fuck y/n, you'll be the death of me." She smirks, rolling her hips up to nudge at my already half hard dick. "Shut up and fuck me again JJ, I want to touch you this time."

@adventuresinobx @starkeyobx @paradisehamilton @ailee-celeste @pankhoeforlife @outerbankspov @houseofperfecttaste @drewbooooo @maybankslover @maybanks-luver @blueicequeen19 @toystory2wasjustokay @onmykneesforrafe @penny4yourthoughts @maddie-routledge @ilovetheavenger143

#jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj x y/n #jj x reader #jj maybank smut #smut warning #obx imagine #obx fic #obx fanfiction #obx smut

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haveyouseenthisskeleton · 2 months

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Skelles with a partner with ADHD

imagine, s/o wonders if they forgot something and realizes they're shaking, and then says "oh that's right, I forgot to eat". I think this scenario with Oak would be interesting, I imagine them talking and they say "what were we talking about?" and Oak "I don't remember either"

This post is for all my ADHD pals (myself included). Some of these might or might have not happened in real life lol.

Undertale Sans - That's the second time you come back home because you forgot something. He's waiting just behind the door with all your missing things and puts them in your arms. He's so used to it with Papyrus than it's quite normal.

Undertale Papyrus - How are you surviving. You were going to go to the grocery store when you both saw flashing pretty colours on a shop facade. That's ten minutes you're just staring at the pretty colours now, hypnotized. By the time you finally get tired of this, you completely forgot what you were doing, it's dark outside and all the shops are closed. Well, shit. Guess you're eating in a restaurant outside because the fridge is empty.

Underswap Sans - You were driving and got distracted, and now you're both somehow in the middle of a random forest with no idea where you're supposed to go. Blue is slowly losing in mind, and eventually, he can't take it anymore. He bursts the door open and starts running at full speed in the forest, just screaming, to calm down. You try to follow him, but then you can't find the road back to the car and decided to just sit on a rock and wait :')

Underswap Papyrus - That's the third time he whines now. Like a puppy. You're focus on a video game for three hours now. He's invisible now. Not only it's his video game in the first place but now he wants attention :( Please? Just a pet? :( He's sad boy.

Underfell Sans - He asked you three times if you had your keys before driving to your vacation place for three hours. In front of the house you rent, you start to pat your pockets, more and more distressed. Red stares at you. You smile apologetically at him. He takes a deep breath and walks behind the house. Then screams and throws bones into the wall. Before coming back, calm, down and telling you they're going back to fetch the keys.

Underfell Papyrus - He flicks you behind the head every time you lose focus. You said you would do your taxes and not let you get distracted. He's taking his role very seriously. He's just standing behind you, arms crossed. You can feel his breath on your neck. Do. Your. Taxes.

Horrortale Sans - So he followed you, not realizing you had no idea where you were going. Since you thought he knew where you two were supposed to go. It takes an hour and three times to pass in front of the same shop for Oak to ask where you're going. And you, just blinking back, saying you thought he knew where you were going. Awkward silence. After a while, you decide to call Willow to ask him where you two are supposed to go...

Horrortale Papyrus - You absolutely wanted to paint and nothing else, so Willow struggled to buy you art stuff in the shortest time. As soon as he gets home, you blink at him and just say "Oh I changed my mind, I like to draw now." Willow takes a deep breath, then turns around. FINE. If you won't have your painting hyperfocus now, he will because it was damn expensive and it's not going to waste.

Swapfell Sans - He's tired of watching you rambling and pacing so he just makes your soul blue and suddenly change your gravity. You fall on your stomach like a dying whale and can't move from the ground now. Nox sighs with relief. You're stressing him out, he needs a break.

Swapfell Papyrus - That's three times he calls you to eat. He grabs your book, climbs a chair, sticks it to the ceiling with super glue, and says you can have it again only after you come and eat. You obey, grumbling. You're not even hungry. You make two steps and collapse because you have actually no energy. Ah.

Fellswap Gold Sans - You keep moving in bed, randomly kicking him in your sleep as you can't keep your legs still. After one too many kicks, he hisses and bites your leg with all he has, which for sure wakes you up. Wine huffs and goes back to sleep like nothing happened. You're too in shock to even proceed what just happened.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - You're fighting to know who has the less anxiety today to move your ass from the couch and go to the grocery store. None of you is ready to move and procrastinate the best you can so the other goes. Coffee tried to yeet you out with his magic but you held on to him and it didn't work. Now you're having a stare battle. You sure you will win.

#undertale #underswap #underfell #horrortale #swapfell #fellswap gold #sans #papyrus #undertale ask blog #undertale asks #undertale imagines #undertale headcanons

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porcelainseashore · 4 months

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Teenage Headache Dreams (5)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: High School! College! Leon Kennedy x Dancer! Fem! Reader

Summary: You’re a bored, but ambitious high school student who can’t wait to escape small town life and make it in the big city. You thought you had it all figured out, until you unwittingly befriend the resident golden boy, Leon. A series of events beginning from junior year to college until Resident Evil 2 Remake.

Warnings: 18+ Swearing, Recreational Drug Use, Eventual Smut, No (Y/N), Ambiguous/Open Ending

Content: High School AU, College AU, Pre-Resident Evil 2, Fluff, Romance, Cliche, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Lack of Communication

Author's Note: Final chapter, wow! Well, not quite. I am working on a Part 2 Ghosts from the Past that will fix the Hurt No Comfort ending to this fic. Before I forget, the Smut warning also applies here. It’s my first time writing smut, please be gentle 🙂 Thanks again for all your wonderful support!

AO3 Link

Chapter 5: Is This Goodbye?

Your time in college was exactly how you imagined it - exciting, eye-opening and challenging. Not only did you develop a lot artistically in those years, you became a bolder, more street smart version of yourself. What was initially raw ambition turned into a cosmopolitan New York drive that rubbed off on you. Whenever you came back to visit your hometown, you were seen as that sophisticated, big city woman you’d always wanted to be.

Leon on the other hand had grown more quiet and serious. He still joked around with you, but it seemed like his focus on doing well at the police academy matured him. He became analytical and observant, following the “look before you leap” approach more often than not. The training had also done his physique good - he was at his fittest and strongest yet.

You were proud of him. He had turned into the man you wanted to be with, not that you had ever doubted his abilities. However, it was a lot tougher to keep up the long-distance relationship than both of you had expected. It wasn’t so simple to see each other, which needed a couple of adjustments, and college life was in itself filled with hard work and distractions. Despite that, you powered through, hoping it would get easier someday, or that your paths would align better again. For now, you had to content yourself with meeting at home during the holidays, or making the trip out to either college for the odd weekend.

There were people who said it wouldn’t last. That you were wasting away your college years being with your high school sweetheart, when you should be living it up and partying like you were single. You knew where they were coming from, and you were pretty sure Leon was probably going through the same dilemma as you, but for some reason both of you didn’t want to give up. That said, you knew you had to end the distance at some point. It was clearly taking a toll on your relationship.

When you graduated from your respective colleges and returned home for a break before moving on with the next chapter of your lives, you were thankful to get some much-needed time together for once. However, the few months you had to yourselves flew by so quickly, you felt like it wasn’t enough. It never was.

“So… you could have picked literally anywhere to be stationed, but you chose Raccoon City?” You sighed audibly, as a way of letting your displeasure at the news be known. Here you were, in Leon’s house, shifting around a couple of moving boxes to help him pack up his stuff. He would be joining his new police family in a week’s time.

Dumping one of the boxes on the ground in frustration, you continued on your rant. “I mean, you were practically a Valedictorian!”

Instantly, you felt Leon’s arms wrap around you from behind, holding you close to him as he murmured into your hair. “Baby, we’ve gone through this. You know I’ve wanted to be put on the Arklay murder cases.” He squeezed you tighter. “I’ll prove myself, I know I can.”

“It’s not about that.” You turned to face him with a pensive frown, tracing the outline of his jaw with your fingers. “I believe you’ll be the finest goddamn cop in the world, but I thought we wanted to stop being apart?”

His brows etched together as he regarded you with a hint of dejection. “Well, what do you want me to say? We knew this wouldn’t be easy.”

“I want to be with you, Leon.” You kissed his neck and buried your face into it, inhaling his musky scent deeply. “Close to you.”

He shivered, closing his eyes as your hot breath hit his skin. “Then why don’t you come stay with me?”

You looked up, startled by his sudden proposal. “What? Are you sure?”

“More than sure.” He opened his eyes, staring at you resolutely.

You didn’t expect him to ask you to move in with him so soon, but in some way you were comforted by the fact that he still felt so strongly about you, despite these difficult years. You were tempted to give in and just say “Yes”, but at the back of your mind, you knew you had a decision to make. You had received offers from various dance companies, most of which were located in New York or abroad, where you would be thriving. Not out in the middle of nowhere in the Midwest.

The sharp trill of a telephone ringing cut through the air, interrupting your thoughts. Leon broke away apologetically. “Uh- sorry, I need to take this.”

You waited in the hallway, hearing only snippets of the conversation, but it sounded like Leon was confused. You regarded him curiously, as he walked back to where you stood with a puzzled look on his face.

“They told me not to come in,” he muttered to himself.

“Huh? Who?” you questioned.

“I don’t know, someone at the RPD.” He paused, his forehead creasing as he scowled. “They said there were some issues and to stay away for now.”

“Nothing else?”

“Nuh uh.” He shook his head.

“That’s weird.” You folded your arms, trying to rack your brain for plausible explanations.

“Maybe they’ll call you again when they’re ready?” You suggested, stroking his arm reassuringly. “It’s probably some admin mess up.”

He shrugged, looking rather crestfallen. You knew how eager he was to start his new job and seeing him in such a state made you feel bad for him.

“Come here.” You reached out, taking him in your arms again. “I know you’re frustrated it’s not working out as planned,” you began. “But honestly, I’m just happy to have you to myself for a little longer.”

He peered down at you, the corners of his mouth breaking out into a smile. “You’re impossible,” he breathed, sealing your lips with an intimate kiss.

━━━━━━━━━━━

A week went by, and then another. Leon heard nothing.

However, you relished the lazy mornings waking up next to him in bed, snuggling together which often led to something more. You didn’t want this to end, but in the coming days, you noticed him pace around the room anxiously, glancing every so often at the telephone, in the hopes he would get another call to report in.

It finally came to a breaking point, where he decided that he should just go in anyway to check on things. His parents cooked up a farewell meal the night before to send him off. You sat next to him at the dining table, looking down at your plate and poking gingerly at the food. You had hardly eaten.

When his parents went into the kitchen to bring out more drinks and the dessert, he whispered into your ear, “You know, it’s rude to play with your food.”

You turned towards him with a wistful smile, admitting, “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too,” he replied. Below the table, his hand crept underneath your skirt, tracing the side of your thigh, before making its way between your legs. You closed your eyes and sighed at his touch. “But it’s only temporary, right?”

His words caused you to look away in shame, biting your cheek. You still hadn’t made up your mind about the offers and in turn, whether you would live with him. But deep down, you knew you were just stalling for time. It was one thing moving to the city, but moving countries? That would most likely spell the end of your relationship.

“I don’t know where I’m going… yet.”

He tilted your chin in his direction and you could see the weariness in his eyes, like he was tired of rehashing this topic over and over again. “Look, let’s just enjoy this last night together, ok?”

“Yeah.” You didn’t know why, but something about the way he said it felt so final and it bothered you. But you didn’t want to argue anymore. You wanted to pretend that everything was fine as it was.

Then, his parents came back to the table and his mom gestured to the wine bottle in her hand. “Some more?”

You nodded and thanked her, as she filled your glass and his dad served out the dessert. All the while, Leon’s hand never left your inner thigh, drawing absentminded circles on your skin, apparently impatient to have some alone time with you.

Soon, they excused themselves to retire to bed, leaving you and Leon to clear away the dishes. Once that was done, you settled on the living room couch, where you had shared many memories of watching movies and chatting til the early hours of the morning. Curling up against Leon, you rested your head against his chest, feeling its rise and fall, and listening to his heartbeat.

“Shall we pick up from where we left off?” His fingers grazed your bare legs again. One last time? A voice echoed in your head, but you shrugged it off.

“Are they asleep?” You wondered out loud.

“Pretty certain,” he replied nonchalantly. “You’re getting rusty at this, aren’t you?” He smirked, sinking his weight onto you so that you fell back on the cushioned seat of the couch, while he groped your hips and breasts through your lace camisole, planting kisses all over your body.

You felt like teenagers again, making out and fondling each other over your clothes on the couch, while his parents slept soundly upstairs. Back then, it never led to anything too serious. You were just fooling around and exploring each other’s bodies without getting caught. This time though, your clothes didn’t stay on for very long.

He chuckled at your restlessness as you tugged off his shirt, running your hands along his toned chest towards his abs. “Enjoying the view?”

“It’s not bad,” you half-lied, throwing him an alluring smile as you palmed his growing erection through his jeans. He hissed in response, grinding it against your hand. “But this is just getting in the way.”

“Well, if the lady insists-” He pushed himself up to a seated position and you groaned at the loss of contact, as well as in anticipation of his cheesy comeback. “-then who am I to deny her?” You heard the sound of his belt unbuckle as he slid out of his jeans, chucking it carelessly to the floor.

The bulge in his plain black boxers caused you to subconsciously lick your lips as he hovered over you, slipping the straps of your camisole to the sides suggestively. “I don’t think it’s fair that I’m the only one getting naked here.”

Nuzzling your nose against his playfully, you stole a quick kiss from his lips before shifting yourself up, allowing him to take your top off with ease. He hummed in appreciation as your breasts spilled out, nipples hardening from the cool air in the room. You knew he liked it when you went without a bra. Cupping your right breast in his hand, he gave it a small squeeze, thumbing its peak before taking it into his mouth, licking and sucking it eagerly. A low moan escaped from your throat, as you grasped tufts of his blonde hair, while his other hand slid under the waistband of your skirt, pulling it down unceremoniously.

His tongue flicked against your nipple at the same time as he stroked your folds through the soaked fabric of your white thong that accentuated your curves perfectly. Your body jolted from the sensitivity as you held back a whimper.

“Mm… so wet already,” he murmured, somewhat proud of himself. It wasn’t always this way. You remembered the first time you and Leon had sex - the awkwardness, fumbling around blindly in the dark, trying to find your way into the positions, but at least there was a lot of laughter. Eventually you adjusted and learnt how your bodies responded to each other, and now he knew how to make this night memorable.

Pushing your thong to the side, you felt his index finger enter your pussy as his thumb played with your clit, causing you to gasp in response. “You like that, baby?” he asked, checking in with you.

“Mm hm,” you nodded, your voice sounding high-pitched and strained. “More,” you begged.

He obliged, slipping in another finger and quickening the pace slightly. You moved your hips against them, allowing him to penetrate you deeper, and coating his fingers with your arousal. As he continued thrusting into you, he trailed the tip of his tongue from your breasts, down along your stomach, reaching your mound and finally swirling it around your throbbing clit. Your breathing grew shallow and rapid with each stroke.

His fingers curled forward, pressing against that sweet, spongy spot, causing you to jerk in response, clamping his face between your thighs. Your core tightened and burned, as waves of euphoria built up in your body. Biting into your knuckles to let out a strangled moan, the walls of your pussy clenched around his fingers as you reached your climax.

It felt as if the world had stopped spinning for a moment as you came down from your orgasm, chest heaving and sweat dripping between your breasts. “Wow,” you exhaled. Gradually, your vision came into focus as you saw Leon facing you, grinning through his plump lips, moistened by a mixture of saliva and your fluids.

“Was it good?” He had the audacity to ask, even though he already knew the answer. However, the praise he received from you couldn’t hurt. Rolling your eyes, you shifted your weight onto his body, pushing him against the backrest of the couch as you sat on his lap.

“It was amazing,” you acknowledged, kissing him sloppily as you tasted yourself on his mouth, before slinking down to the ground on your knees, coming to rest between his legs. His eyes widened in recognition, taking the hint as he pulled down his boxers, kicking them to the side. Instinctively, you reached for his cock, already painfully hard and erect. The tip of it was weeping with precum which you smeared with your thumb, causing it to twitch in your hand as he gritted his teeth and groaned into your touch.

Leon’s gaze was transfixed on you as you pumped his shaft a few times sensually, before running your tongue along the length of his cock, filling it entirely in your mouth when you reached the top.

He sucked in a sharp breath. “God, that’s hot.”

You pulled your mouth off his cock, still keeping your hand tightly wrapped around its base. How could you pass up on such an opportunity to tease him? Batting your eyelashes, you pouted up at him. “You want me to continue?”

You swore you could have heard a whimper, before he pleaded, a little too enthusiastically, “Fuck yes,” so much so you had to remind him to keep his voice down.

Satisfied with his mini outburst, you smiled cheekily and went back at it. He held your hair up firmly with one hand and balled the other into a fist, gripping the edge of the seat as he watched you suck on his cock through half-lidded eyes. Your lips stretched over it as you took it all the way in and came back up, circling your tongue around the tip and ridge. He threw his head back, turning to the side to muffle his whines and you sped up, increasingly turned on by the sounds you drew out of him.

At some point, Leon tapped on your shoulder lightly, indicating for you to stop. “I’m sorry, baby. I won’t last if you keep doing this,” he made out through labored breaths.

You nodded understandingly as he pulled you up again into his arms, so that you were straddling his lap, and he littered you with tender kisses in appreciation. You cherished these moments of affection in between. It was like a calm respite in the eye of the storm.

Afterwards, you discarded the thong that was looking a little worse for wear and lifted yourself slightly, guiding his cock towards your entrance as he rested his hands on both sides of your ass. He took in the view fully, his dilated pupils burning with desire, as he memorized every detail of your body and the intoxicated expression so clearly marked across your face when you sank down onto him.

Once you had eased in, you moved up and down his hard length, breasts bouncing in a similar motion as you rocked your hips in sync with his thrusts upwards into you. Clinging on to his broad shoulders, you gasped each time he bottomed out inside. He whispered in hushed tones, telling you how beautiful you were, how good you felt, and how much he was yours, as you swallowed your guilt, pushing away whatever dreams you had of a future living together with him.

Seemingly oblivious to your thoughts, Leon kneaded your ass, spreading its cheeks apart as you rode his cock faster and harder to distract yourself. Feeling another orgasm build up in your aching cunt, you dug your nails into his skin, the sensation causing him to growl and buck his hips up, plunging into you. When you let out a loud yelp, he stopped abruptly, eyeing you with concern as you raised a hand to your mouth in embarrassment.

“Was that too much?” “You think they heard me?” You both asked in unison, before exchanging looks and giggling quietly, as you reassured him that he hadn’t hurt you. The room was silent except for your breathing and nothing stirred in the night. It seemed like his parents must be heavy sleepers.

“Leon…” you called out, gently caressing his cheek as he stared at you with those icy blue eyes. “I want you, but-”

“Shhh, it’s ok,” he interrupted, bringing his finger to your lips, as if he already knew what you were about to say. Maybe he just wanted tonight to be perfect as it was too. Tomorrow could wait.

The next minute, he pulled you flush against his hips, before pinning you flat onto the couch seat with your wrists restrained above your head. Your legs were wrapped around his waist and his cock was still buried deep in your pussy. With renewed vigor he set a relentless pace as he pounded into you, coaxing moan after moan from your mouth. He leaned in to kiss your throat, muttering against your skin, “Show me how much you want me.”

You knew what he meant. He wanted to hear his name on your lips as he fucked you with such desperation, as if to remind you that you were his. As if he was afraid to lose you. Maybe it was because he didn’t know when would be the next time he’d see you. Or perhaps he had a gut feeling that you’d leave him for some fancy dance company far away.

His blazing cerulean eyes bore into you, savoring every reaction that he could elicit from your body, as he covered your mouth and slammed his hips against your pussy mercilessly.

“Ah- fuck! Leon!” With each thrust, you screamed into his cupped hand in pleasure until your voice was hoarse, and you were positive that if anyone was in the hallway, they would hear the unmistakable sound of skin slapping against skin and muted cries.

It didn’t take long for your climax to hit again and you arched your back, crying out his name for a final time as your mind went blank and your body spasmed uncontrollably. His rhythm started to falter as he felt your cunt squeeze and milk him for all its worth. Beads of sweat trickled down his brow as he locked eyes with you, and you caught a glimpse of sadness in them, resulting in a similar pang to seep into your heart. He knew it would soon be over.

Finishing off with a few more thrusts, he filled you deep with his hot cum, groaning your name and capturing your lips in another feverish kiss. With that, he collapsed on top of you in a heap, both of you panting heavily as you felt a pool of wetness on your face. Were those tears? Were they yours or his? You weren’t sure anymore.

After a moment of silence, you heard a faint whisper, “Please, don’t leave me.” You didn’t respond, but instead stroked his damp hair soothingly, placing a lingering kiss on his forehead as you closed your eyes and sighed.

━━━━━━━━━━━

The morning after, all that remained was a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach as Leon made his final preparations to head off. You avoided each other’s gaze as you shuffled around the house, placing the remaining items in his jeep. You used to laugh at the size of that monstrous car, but you had to eat your words when he drove you to both of your favorite secluded spots, where you would sit back together on its spacious hood with blankets and drinks, watching the starry night and city skyline in each other’s arms. So many memories, so little time.

Finally, it was time and you couldn’t ignore what was coming anymore.

“It’s getting late...” He could barely look at you and his eyes were brimming with melancholy. “I should go.”

He was still standing away from you at arm's length apart, afraid to touch you, in case he might change his mind. You couldn’t stand how permanent this goodbye felt, as if you knew innately that this would be the last you would see of him. There was no explanation to it, just pure, raw energy.

In a last ditch attempt, you blurted out, “I’ll call you.” You reached out to grab his hand. “There’s a dance company near Arklay, I could-”

He took his hand away as if he had been burnt. “Don’t,” he warned, his voice trembling as he choked on his words. “Just don’t play games with me.”

He could see through your empty promises and even though you had repeated the same lie over and over again to yourself that you would stay, it was obvious that your heart was captivated by the glittering city lights of a foreign country, and he couldn’t win you over. Not this time. He knew you would break up with him even before you saw it coming yourself.

“Leon, I-” you paused, hot tears streaming down your face as you met his blue eyes. You longed to profess how much you loved him and what he meant to you, but your emotions were caught in your throat. In the end, you could only manage a feeble, “I’m sorry.”

You saw the flicker of light in his eyes dim out as he glanced away. “Don’t be.” He turned towards his jeep and opened the door. “It’s just how life works out sometimes.” He shrugged dejectedly, as if resigned to his fate.

He climbed into the vehicle and turned on the engine, before facing you one last time. “Goodbye,” he called out softly.

With that, he closed the car door and drove off into the distance.

━━━━━━━━━━━

The next day, you heard it on the news. Raccoon City would be destroyed due to a deadly viral outbreak. Within a day, the entire city of 100,000 civilians was gone, wiped off the face of the Earth. For the greater good. Your mouth twisted in distaste at the government’s decision as the glass of water you were holding slipped through your hand, shattering onto the floor.

There was an incessant ringing sound in your ear and you tasted metal on your tongue. Your whole body went numb as you kept your eyes peeled on the TV, your breath coming in short until you started hyperventilating.

Leon? Dear god, Leon! Please let him be alive, you prayed to some unknown, higher entity.

Your parents had to hold you up and drag you away from the living room, shutting off the TV as they ushered you into your old bedroom to calm you down. There could be survivors, they said. And for some time, you had hope.

As weeks passed and you heard nothing except stone cold silence, that hope began to diminish. You didn’t know how painful heartbreak was until you experienced it - the wrenching of skin, tearing of tissue, a crushing force against your organs.

You were so foolish. You should have told him how you felt. Now you had nothing left except regret. Wishing that you could have turned back the clock and gone to a prestigious arts college near Springfield instead, just so you could have spent more time together. Wishing again, that you would have accepted his offer to live with him. And finally, wishing that you had convinced him to stay one more day, so he would be here, in front of you, still living.

You would have given everything up and more to have him back. But he was gone. And this time, it really was too late.

Grief has no bounds, and you couldn’t spend a second longer in the place where you grew up. Not if you wanted that very same grief to rip into you and consume you. So you did the one thing you knew how to do best. Run. Run away as far as you could to somewhere that wouldn’t remind you of the boy you shared all the good and bad times with. The boy you loved and lost.

As you packed your things with no plan of where you were headed to next, a strong gust of wind blew through the open window, causing a bunch of papers on your desk to scatter across the floor. And there you saw it. The long-forgotten card, with white text embossed on white background, serendipitously landing right in the middle of where you were standing.

TANZTHEATER SILJE VÖLKER

Staring at the card for a moment, you quickly picked it up, placing it securely into your handbag, next to the college graduation photo you and Leon had posed in together. Both of you were happy back then, with so much hope and dreams ahead of you.

You shook your head, muttering to yourself, “Hey, loser.”

If Leon was up there somewhere, please just let him hear this.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say I love you.”

Wiping away the tears that never ceased to fall these days, you took one final glance around the room, before turning on your heel and never looking back.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy smut #high school au #college au #re2 leon #re2 remake #resident evil 2 #resident evil #porcelainscribbles

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thejacketscloset · 6 months

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Avenging myself against @forestshadow-wolf this one got a little away from me I'll be honest but i like where I ended up LMAO

Soap daydreams about retiring sometimes, never honestly thinks of the idea as something that would happen for him, but he finds entertainment in the possibilities. Different lives he'd like to try leading if he was anyone else, some more absurd than others.

It started as something to keep his mind off nerves when he was deploying, something that stuck with him all through his rookie years. Then he adopted the use of his journal, and the plans got more cohesive as he jotted them down.

Each page it was something different, none of them particularly sticking with him enough to think of them for too long. The scenarios always seemed to be missing something

It doesn't quite click until after Soap meets Ghost on what was missing.

It starts off as a harmless joke in his own mind, wondering what Ghost would do if he retired. The ideas getting more and more absurd with any new thought.

Thinking of Ghost in domestic settings just seems strange, which how cold he has known the man to be he could never imagine him doing something as mundane as frying eggs for breakfast or taking his dogs out for a walk.

The betrayal in Las Almas changes his mind.

After he finally gets out of those rain filled streets and into the truck Ghost is speeding, Soap desperately needs a distraction from his shoukder bleeding out. His mind falls back into his ritual of thinking up retirement plans for everyone.

And suddenly, its not so strange to imagine Ghost living the quiet life in the countryside. He thinks of one or two dogs, despite his own personal opinions of dogs. He thinks of a small cabin-like house with big property. He thinks of a forest to take hikes in every day. He thinks of himself visiting Ghost in this life, maybe even staying the night. Then he thinks of himself making breakfast for Ghost, bringing it up to him so he can eat in bed, climbing onto the mattress beside him-

And woah. Thats a new one. Soaps brain seems to fixate on the thought, the idea of sharing a life after retirement. Soap can't escape it, and after maybe five minutes of failing to escape it, he gives up and indulges. Maybe he indulges a little too much.

"What kinda dogs would ye want L.T.?" He asks, hardly even thinking about how out of place his question might me.

He sees Ghost glance at him from where he's driving, and he has half a mind to apologize for the strange question before the other is responding.

"You're seriously asking me that after the 'half a dog' joke?" And oh Soap can practically heat the grin Ghost's wearing under his mask.

"Jus answer the question," Soap is laughing in response.

Ghost seems to genuinely consider the question for a good moment, Soap watches him the whole time.

"I'd get a Pitbull." He answers after his consideration.

"Scary dog, aye?"

"Nah. They're all sweethearts, just need the right person to show their soft side."

Ghosts eyes seem to flick over to Soap and linger for a long moment after what he said. Soap tries not to let his mind run too wild with what Ghost could mean by that.

"And you Johnny? What would you get."

"I'm no' much of a dog person. Maybe I could be though, if a nice enough Pitbull came around."

#ghostsoap #soapghost #no spoilers here youre safe :)#cod #mw2 #ghost x soap #soap x ghost #drabble #dogs as metaphors bc im sick in the head #orginally was supposed to be about them raising sheep but SOMEHOW it took a turn before i got to it #one day. ill write that hc.

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projectcaramel · 2 years

Text

He Comforts You After A Bad Day - Obey Me! x Reader

Lucifer

You crash into your bed and sigh the moment you return to the House of Lamentation, feeling like death. Maybe you could just atomize yourself and become nothing today.

“What happened?” As if attracted by your stress, Lucifer makes his appearance in your doorway, and you glance at him tiredly.

“Nothing,” you mumble, but the great lie detector cannot be deceived. He reproaches you as he sits on the edge of your bed and eventually coerces you into divulging your secrets.

“Why didn’t you call me?” he asks gently, even as he gently combs his hand through your hair.

“You’re always busy, and I didn’t want to bother you...” Lucifer sighs, and he pulls you to a sitting position before he wraps his arms around you, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“You silly... How many times have I told you that you’re more important? You know how much I love you, don’t you? Or do you need me to show you again?” He kisses you gently yet passionately before looking deeply into your eyes with his entrancing deep red ones. Then he murmurs: “Come to my room.”

“Lucifer, I don’t—” He kisses you again, effectively shutting you up.

“That wasn’t a request,” he whispers darkly. “Tonight, we will enjoy each other’s company, and that is final. No excuses.”

Mammon

“Yo!” Mammon greets you, although you barely turn your head up from the ball you’re squashed into. You don’t really think you can handle Mammon’s energy right now. “Um... you okay?” You can feel him standing in front of you, his knees faintly cracking as he crouches down to your level. “Hey. Hey, answer me.” He says your name. Pokes you. Says it again.

“Leave me alone,” you almost growl at him, but the white-haired idiot doesn’t budge.

“Don’t wanna. I might be an idiot, but I’m not stupid enought that I can’t tell when you’re real upset about somethin’. I... I don’t like seein’ you all mopey, y’know?” You finally glance up at the demon to see him suddenly averting his eyes, a pink flush coming over his face. “A-Anyway!” He grabs hold of your hand, bringing you to your feet before he starts dragging you away. “I know just the thing that’ll make ya feel better!”

“Do you?” you challenge, but Mammon doesn’t seem perturbed aside from his embarrassment as he pulls you outside the House of Lamentation, towards his car. For a moment, you think he’s going to throw you in the passenger seat and take you for a drive, but instead, he reaches into the trunk and pulls out a small box.

“You like these, don’tcha? I swung by Madame Scream’s this morning, and she was givin’ ‘em out. She even let me decorate one of ‘em myself. She said I have quite the talent!” You give Mammon a long look before you open the box to reveal six beautiful Cursed Cookies. Well, five of them are beautiful. Mammon’s is... truly a display of talent.

You can’t help but finally break a smile as you give Mammon a hug and a kiss that sends him stuttering and getting red in the face.

Leviathan

Levi: Hey.

Levi: I know you don’t want to watch Hana Ruri: Kuroi Bara again.

Levi: But the anime night is still on, right?

Levi: Are you ignoring me?

You put down your phone and nursed your eyes. This wasn’t the time to watch anime, was it? In the first place, you didn’t really have the energy to reassure Levi that he wasn’t a cringe otaku and that you weren’t a disgusting normie.

This time, Levi didn’t give you the option though, since you heard him saying your name from outside the door.

“Sorry... it’s just that you don’t usually ignore me, so I got anxious that maybe you didn’t want to be my girlfriend anymore... I don’t want to be a bother... I just wanted to know what I did...”

“Oh, Levi,” you groan softly, tangling your hands into your hair as you eventually get up from your desk and open the door for the purple-haired male. He seems surprised to see you.

“Have... you been crying?” His face suddenly fills with fear. “Is it my fault?” He grabs hold of your shoulders, but you shake your head.

“I’m just stressed out,” you reply. “Sorry; I didn’t want to bring you down with my moodiness, but I ended up doing it anyway...”

“What are you talking about? In the first place, you could never bring me down! I’m happy just to be around you!” He shakes his head. “Nevermind that; I am declaring Operation NEETflixx and Chill! Or gaming. Or whatever!”

Satan

“I thought I’d find you here.” You glance up from the chair you’ve been sitting in, having migrated to a part of the library that the guys seldom visited. With the exception of this one, apparently. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to read Ira Deorum.” The fact that you can’t read ancient Latin aside, Satan sees right through you regardless.

“Is it about what happened earlier today?” Your silence is answer enough, and Satan takes the seat across from you, folding his hands together. “Listen... I get wanting to be alone with your thoughts for a little bit, but I get worried about you, you know? I almost started calling for you walking through the house like I was looking for a lost cat.” For a moment, it seems that Satan is getting engrossed in the idea of you being a cat before he continues softly: “You know I want to help you, right?”

“...how can you?” you mumble. “It’s something I have to deal with... not you.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t help,” Satan replies, and you watch as he reaches out his green-nailed hand for yours, hesitating for only a moment before he grabs hold of your hand. “At the very least, I can teach you not to spend so much time worrying about things you don’t need to worry about. And then we can go to a cat cafe and read some mystery novels together. Isn’t that better than just brooding?”

You eventually return Satan’s squeeze to your hand, and you find yourself smiling a little.

“Yeah... I think that might be better.”

Asmodeus

“Hey~ Guess who just got the most gorgeous lip tint in the world~?” You barely glance at Asmodeus as he pops into your room. Right now, you’re not sure if you could care less over whether his lips are slightly more pink or more glittery or whatever he did to them this time. “Hm? What’s the matter? Aren’t you going to take a picture of me?”

“I don’t want to,” you finally say, and Asmo jumps back as if he’s just been struck.

“Why not?” he asks, popping his head closer to you. “Oh! What terrible red eyes!” He takes your face in his soft hands, even as his orange eyes change from offense to concern. “No wonder you can’t focus on me; poor thing, you must be so upset... Alright; it’s decided!”

“What is?” you grumble irritatedly.

“What else?” he questions happily. “We’re going to get facials~!” You say that like it’s obvious, you think irritatedly.

“Why?”

“Why not~? It’s nice to treat yourself every now and again, right? I’ll do it especially for you so that you can take a nice, long break... and you even get the benefits of being able to rest your eyes on me~” You find yourself perking up a little bit despite yourself. At first, it sounded like he was dragging you out to a spa, but for Asmo to personally take care of you? He was very thorough with his beauty care routines, and you must admit that his gentle touch sounded very comforting right now.

“Fine,” you mumble, and Asmo brightly smiles before he pulls you into his bedroom.

Beelzebub

“Piss off!” you snap at the redhead as he complains that he’s hungry for 12 hundredth time that day. He turns his back and wanders away drooping, leaving you alone with your thoughts as you knead your pillow. You probably would have apologized if he’d stayed there for another few minutes, but he’s already gone, probably wondering what he did to make you mad. You aren’t really angry with Beel; usually you don’t even mind working a few extra hours to get food for him, but today your emotions are all over the place.

With how harshly you snapped at him earlier, you’re surprised when Beel returns to your room while you’re curled up in your blankets. This time, he’s come bearing a huge pot of stew, and you can feel your mouth watering. You haven’t eaten in hours, and you can smell the rich aroma of the soup he’s made, undoubtedly his specialty.

“Um... so, I made this for you,” he begins as he sets it the pot down on the floor and holds up a bowl. “I didn’t mean to make you angry, but I didn’t know how to apologize... I started asking everyone how they thought I should go about it, and then... this happened.” Beel nudges you. “Do you... want to eat?” He sounds so hesitant, like a puppy that’s been kicked once.

You sit up, your eyes watering as you tell Beel that of course you want to eat and that you’re sorry for being unreasonable.

“I’m just having a bad day,” you sniff, wiping at your eyes. “And... anyway, do you think I’m going to finish all of that? Get yourself a bowl so we can eat together, you big, lovable musclebrain.” Beel brightens and happily rushes off for a second bowl.

Belphegor

“God, this freaking sucks,” you groan, covering your face with your hand while leaning back in your chair. You’ve been pulling all-nighters, but now you can’t sleep when you want to.

Behind you, you can hear Belphegor snoring, which annoys you to a surprising degree considering how much you love the lazy sloth. You’re half-tempted to interrupt his sleep and make him endure this sleepless hell with you, but it’s to your surprise that Belphie wakes up.

“Hmmm? Why aren’t you asleep?” he mumbles drowsily. “And why’d you leave the bed? I was so comfortable...” Belphie sits up yawning and stretching.

“Well I’m sorry I couldn’t make you comfortable, Belphie,” you retort, more acid than you would have liked, and his purple eyes turn over to you.

“What’s with the hostility right after I wake up?” he grumbles, even as he stands up and walks behind your chair to lean his body into you, his head resting on top of yours.

“Belphie, what are you doing?” you sigh.

“Bugging you until you go to sleep with me.”

“I can’t sleep, Belphie.”

“That so?” For a moment, you think he’s going to just nap there until he starts singing. “Tsukaretara tama ni wa boku to... Yuttari hirune demo sureba iiyo...”

“What are you doing?”

“Haven’t you ever heard of a lullaby? Come to bed already; you look like death.”

“Thanks Belphie.”

“You’re welcome.”

“That was sarcasm.”

“I know. Sleep with me anyway.” He keeps singing anyway, and you eventually succumb to his insistence and go back to bed. Despite your reservations, your insomnia evaporates as if it never existed.

Diavolo

“Are these from Lucifer?” Diavolo asks you as you offer him a stack of papers, and you curtly nod. “Thank you for always taking the trouble... I keep telling him that I’d be happy to come get them myself...”

“It’s fine; your day is busy as it is,” you reply, although you feel like breaking down then and there. Diavolo doesn’t miss the waver in your voice, and when he inquiringly says your name, you can’t hold back the tide of tears. Another moment, and Diavolo is walking out from behind his desk and engulfing you in a crushing bear hug. He rubs your back and tells you to let it all out, that he’s there. “Sorry,” you sniffle.

“Hm? Why?”

“I’m such a mess,” you reply helplessly, and Diavolo chuckles, making you look up at him.

“Is there anyone that isn’t? I mean personally, I’ve had plenty of days where I’ve wanted to throw my hands up into the air and forget all about my ambitions just because it seems like they’ll never be in reach.”

“But you get back up again and keep acting like your normal self straight away...”

“Practice,” Diavolo assures, then pauses and laughs. “Also Barbatos could be very strict with me. But my point is, it’s okay to not be at your best. There’s always tomorrow.”

“What if there is no tomorrow?”

“Hm...” Diavolo seems to be genuinely pondering this before he widely smiles. “Then I’ll make one for you so you can enjoy it with me.”

Barbatos

You excuse yourself from the table where everyone is busy eating, feeling your migraine pulse from behind your eyes. Your mind is too busy right now, and the conversation at dinner is making it even worse; you want to lie down and rest, but it doesn’t seem as if you’ll be able to.

“Barbatos, you don’t have to follow me; I’m just going to the balcony,” you tell the butler tiredly as you catch him out of the corner of your eye.

“I’m concerned for your health, m’lady.”

“Stop calling me that,” you half-heartedly complain, even as a faint smile touches your lips, one which Barbatos shares as he approaches closer. “You know me better.”

“Yes, I do,” he agrees, even as he uncaps a small bottle before pouring a small amount of thick, dark green liquid into the cap and hands it to you. You look at it with distaste. “It’s green tea flavored.” You raise an eyebrow before you eventually drink it, and you feel warmth surge through your face as the overwhelming taste of a robust green tea travels through your mouth. Is that matcha?

“...Passable,” you reply, and Barbatos nods before he takes the empty cap back.

“If there’s anything you want to tell me, then my ears are always open, you know,” he suggests, even as he places his hand against the small of your back and starts steering you further away from the banquet Diavolo is hosting.

“Uh... where are we going?”

“Somewhere quiet,” he replies, and he’s surprisingly firm as he pushes you along, allowing no room for argument. “There is no sense in worrying about what you could have done, only what you will do from now on. I am always here to ask for advice. Use me to your heart’s content.”

“That’s a weird way of putting it, Barb,” you chuckle.

“Is it? Well, in any case, I will stay here for as long as you need me.”

Simeon

[trigger warning - attempted suicide]

You stare into the rushing black water below you, wondering idly if it will feel liberating. Probably not. Still, your feet teeter off the edge of the bridge, and you start to fall. And the second you do, there’s a hand keeping a strong hold of your wrist, keeping you from the water.

“Simeon,” you say hollowly. “Let go of me.”

“I’m sorry, but no,” he replies, and although you start to struggle, nothing can compete with his strength as he pulls you up, back onto the bridge. He clutches you to him for a long moment, petting your hair. “Why would you do something like that?” Although there isn’t an ounce of rebuke in his voice, it feels like he’s scolding you.

“It’s too much,” you mumble, your fingers clinging to his cape. “Enough is enough, Simeon! And don’t start with some bullshit about God! I hate God!”

“I wasn’t going to say anything about that,” he replies gently. “Just tell me what’s going on. I don’t want to be in the dark about what’s bothering you to this degree.” You finally meet his eyes as he tilts your head up to look at him, one of his hands cupping your face. You find yourself faltering at his concerned face. You know he loves you, how much you’d hurt him if you really...

You eventually tell him what you’ve been hiding, and he listens patiently and doesn’t interrupt, only holding you on the bridge in the dead of night.

“Thank you for telling me,” he finally says, and he holds you even tighter before he kisses you gently. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, and you didn’t deserve it. Is there something I can do to make you feel better? Like... holding hands, or talking, or having sex?”

“Wh—Simeon!?” You can’t help but burst out laughing at the suggestion from the angel, and he smiles. You realize he said that just to distract you, and you find yourself feeling somewhat grateful for it.

“I want you to be happy,” he pushes gently. “I’d even go so far as to say that I consider it my responsibility... no, my privilege to make you happy. So please... let me help you.”

Solomon

“Solomon...please,” you beg, and Solomon gives you a confused look as he sets his special patitsio that is apparently his “best dish yet”. Judging by the fact that for some reason the baked noodles have turned dark, crusty purple, it’s far from the Greek dish he’s trying to imitate. “I really don’t want to eat it...”

“Hm? Why not? It’s really good.” What is wrong with your tastebuds?

“Look, I just, I’ve had a rough day, and I don’t want diarrhea on top of that.”

“Rough? Why? What happened?” Solomon puts down the weird matter that he calls his cooking on the table, pulling off his oven mitts as he sits next to you. You explain it briefly, and Solomon thinks to himself for a moment. “That sucks,” he replies.

“You’re telling me.”

“Well, you could always just curse them.”

“I—Sol, you’re talking about my boss.” You’re have a hard time not cracking up as he suggests a few other methods of getting your revenge, several of them absolutely ridiculous.

“I can do it for you too.” You finally break and let yourself laugh, feeling the tension drain out of your body.

“Thanks for the offer, but I don’t think that’s going to solve anything.”

“Really? Worked for me. Well, what do you want then?”

“Mmm... Kiss me?” Solomon chuckles, giving something of a helpless expression.

“What a tame request,” he lightly mocks before he grants your wish, leaving you faintly smiling, glad that he didn’t eat any of his cooking beforehand.

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