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#(almost) the same ending line as the finale
xxacademy · 2 days
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Throne of His Own
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This fic is inspired & adapted from chapter 42 of A Court Of Mist And Fury, by Sarah J. Maas. Plot is original, but I took heavy influence from the events of that scene. <3
Leon Kennedy x Agent!Reader (she/her)
18+ MDNI !!
Summary: Being sent to a rural French village to go undercover with a band of vampires was strangely typical for your line of work— But, pretending to be lovers with another agent was anything but typical. Adapting yourself from a trained agent to a submissive lover unfolds in an unexpected series of events.
Word count: 10.2k
Content warnings: smut, AFAB anatomy, exhibitionism, penetrative sex, pet names, slightly mean possessive Leon (only when he has to be), alcohol consumption, typical violence and themes associated with resident evil (like mentions/ use of weapons).
a/n: somewhere, deep in the void, this was intended to be about 2k words, just a little one shot... but now here we are, lol. anyways thank you guys for being so patient, and thank u to my besties on here for being so kind and understanding. life is crazy, and truly i cannot keep up as consistently as i’d like to. i will always be here, even if i take some long breaks here & there. i love all u resident evil obsessed freaks, my life wouldn’t be the same without u xx also i finally decided to not be lazy & do the cute colored letters i hope u enjoy hehe
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— PART I —
You peered out the window as you were driven through the endless sprawl of the snow-covered French countryside. A blur of powdery white pines occasionally broken up by small villages nestled into the hills.
Behind all those tall trees were the ragged peaks of the hulking French Alps, so expansive they nearly cut the sky in half. The beauty and stillness of winter was in full effect. Every little village had plumes of warming smoke gathering above the chimneys.
The agent driving the car interrupted your silent musing over the scenery. "You'll have to hike in. It's about 5 miles to the village, but we can't risk getting too close."
With one hand still on the wheel, he reached for the center console, pulled out a large envelope, and tossed it in your lap.
"There you'll find the information you need. Your partner, Leon Kennedy, has been undercover, posing as one of them."
Your voice is monotone, almost disinterested. "And who's them?"
"Some parasite-infected blood suckers. Leon has described them as a vampiric blood cult or something."
"And I'm just expected to waltz into all this? A blood cult? Really?"
"He talked about having a lover, a woman he returned home to, and at the time, it was just banter to fit in with them. But the cultists want to meet her. Either they're getting suspicious, or they want to play ball. Regardless, this served as a rather interesting opportunity to give Leon backup. So here you are."
Your knuckle rests below your bottom lip; you watch as the sun begins its descent below the icy mountain peaks. 
So here I am. 
You and one of the few other survivors of Raccoon City. You've met him, sure, but you have yet to work alongside him. But, you'd always known the day would come. 
── ・ 。☆*☽*☆゚.──
You were driven as far as the meandering forest service road would allow. Ahead of you, where the road was no more, towering evergreens had taken over. Their limbs were heavy with packed snow, creating a dense cover over the forest. Only a sliver of the remaining purple-tinted dusk made it through the trees.
"This is where you're on your own. Here are the coordinates for where you'll meet up. Just stay north until you find an abandoned barn. That's where he'll be."
You nod in understanding, equipping your array of weapons—a rifle on your back, a pistol on your hip, and a machete on the other.
"We'll have you out before the end of the week," the agent said, helping you put your pack on.
"I'll count my blessings," your face was solemn as you faced the trees, attempting to size up what lay ahead.
"Well then, you're set. The best of luck to you." a sympathetic smile formed on the agent's lips as he stepped back into the car.
Without hesitation, you departed into the cold, dark wilderness.
── ・ 。☆*☽*☆゚.──
Seven miles may not have been a lot for you, but Seven miles of trekking through uncharted backcountry in the dark of winter was. You were chilled to the bone, and the numbness of your limbs limited your mobility ten-fold. 
The thick undergrowth of the forest only got denser as you progressed, and your machete-wielding arm throbbed with every strike.
You stumbled up an embankment. With every step, loose, powdery snow slipped underneath your winter boots. Each sharp breath you took appeared as mist, illuminated by your headlamp.
As you finally reached the crest of the hill, you spotted a dilapidated barn at the base. It was nestled underneath a skeletal weeping willow tree. As you moved closer, you noticed half of its roof had caved in. Just one billow of wind could send the thing toppling.
You made your way down the slope, encroaching on the barn. You pulled out your pistol and dimmed your headlamp just to be safe.
Focusing on sound, you surveyed the area for footsteps, rustling, or speaking.
There was not a peep to be heard. Aside from the occasional whisper of wind, the surrounding forest was eerily quiet.
The crunch of the snow under your boots was frustratingly loud as you circled the barn's perimeter, searching for traps.
To your surprise, you peeked through a frosty window and saw the dull glow of a lantern, and a man sat beside it.
He was bundled head to toe in fur-lined clothing similar to your own. His eyes flicked up, and they met with yours. Without speaking, he signaled you in.
You couldn't recall what he looked like, but you remember a distinctly boyish look despite him being around your age when the incident happened. But the person who stood before you was a lot different.
This man is rugged and muscular. His cheekbones are much more pronounced, and his pale blue eyes are set deep in their sockets. Gentle yet battle-hardened. All that boyishness has dissipated.
"Leon," he said, stretching a gloved hand toward yours. 
You stuttered your name through shivering lips, your hand meeting Leon's in a firm shake.
His tactful eyes scanned you, assumedly noting how cold you were.
"We really should get going. I've been holed up in a cabin only a few miles from here."
"Gladly, I'm freezing my ass off." 
Without any further small talk, Leon leads the way, setting out once again for the dark, unforgiving woods.
── ・ 。☆*☽*☆゚.──
"Make yourself comfortable; I'll get a fire going," Leon said, opening the door for you before heading back outside for firewood. 
You threw your pack onto the ground beside the fireplace. The room was completely dark, except for the small path illuminated by your headlamp.
You fumbled a matchbook out of your pocket and started to light the myriad of taper candles around the cabin. 
Warm candlelight flooded the room, illuminating the interior of the gothic-style cabin. It was constructed of dark, ashy wood—the walls, the floor, the ceiling, and everything else.
Eclectic, mismatched carpets overlapped each other. And dark red curtains pooled along the ornate windows.
He called it a cabin, but the interior was rather grand.
Your heavy .22 caliber rifle had been digging into your back for hours, so you peeled it off with a relieving sigh. As you set it down on the wooden dining table, it made a hollow metallic clunk. You stripped off your other heavy layers onto the table, like your machete and belt, but kept on your fur-lined outerwear. Inside wasn't that much warmer.
With a heavy boot, Leon kicked open the front door, cradling wood in his forearms. With him, a gust of snow flurries blew into the cabin. He again kicked the door closed behind him and dumped the wood beside the fireplace.
"The snow is picking up again. You got here at the right time," Leon said, striking a match and tossing it into a pile of kindling inside the stone hearth.
You sit on a deep red Victorian-style couch in front of the fireplace. You sighed and kicked your boots up onto the coffee table.
"You call this place a cabin?" You say as your hand brushes the fine velvet upholstery of the couch.
"Well, when you see the rest of this village, you'll see why this place is considered just a cabin."
"These cultists must be the extravagant type then, huh?"
Leon piled wood onto the roaring fire, the crackling glow illumining his features. He stepped back from the heat and faced you, pulling off his heavy jacket. "Yeah, to say the least. They're greedy fuckers with bloodlines full of wealth. These gaudy homes just scratch the surface."
"So, now my real question is—how did you weasel your way in? How are you seriously posing as a cult member?" You stretched your shaky hands towards the fire, desperate for warmth. "You can't be serious that you, an American, just waltzed into a French village and are pretending to play cultist," you said with heavy speculation, your stern eyes meeting his.
Leon's lip ticked, calm eyes unbreaking from yours.
"They have plenty of outlets funneling within the United States, which gave us the perfect opening. We intercepted communications from a faction of theirs based in the States and used them as a bleed for information. Eventually, it was requested that they, we, send over a high-ranking nobility to come to France to one, act as a messenger, and two, be part of their transformation ritual."
"And that's where you came in?"
Leon's face went grave.
"Yeah, I trained to be and act like one of them. I learned every piece of information we know about this narcissistic vampire cult and its deviant religion. I've had to change everything about my life and thinking to be here. It's been months kissing ass in the hope of more information."
The room was becoming increasingly warm, and you started to feel claustrophobic in your winter clothing. You began to shed your layers of outerwear. 
"That sounds awful. I can't believe you've made it out here, alone, for so long..." you paused for a moment but resumed, "but please, tell me that it has been worth it."
The question loomed thick in the air as you struggled with your boots, eventually kicking them off and walking to the fire to warm your cold, damp feet. 
You could really get a good look at Leon here. He wore a tight black shirt that emphasized his muscular build and black cargo pants. His complexation looked soft against the warm firelight, juxtaposing the intensity of his prominent features.
He, too, seemed to be taking in your appearance as you sauntered toward the light. What he was thinking about was absolutely unknown, as he remained stone-faced.
"It has," he said, breaking the silence. "It has been worth it."
Leon's eyes drifted to his hands as if in a trance.
"What we now know about the cultists can completely change the course of this fight. But as I push forward, it's not going to be easy. I don't think this is going to end smoothly. That's why I needed backup." Leon cleared his throat. But there is a catch, too."
His eyes darted up to meet yours. You tensed, straightening your back, an inquisitive eyebrow raised. 
"The king, that fucking king, wants me to bring my lover."
Although you were briefed on this situation prior, nothing could have prepared you for hearing it from him directly. 
You laughed-- partly to ease the tension, but mainly because the mission-altering crux for the honored agent is his girlfriend.
"It's crazy, I know, but it couldn't be a more perfect invitation to bring another agent in." His cheeks flushed with the slightest hue of red.
"Please, tell me how you got into this situation in the first place". You tried to contain your laughter but failed.
Leon breathed an exasperated sigh.
"Well, the Lords, false prophets more like, banter about their romantic conquests. And well, after they all had drowned on about all the unsavory details, they looked at me, awaiting what story I had to tell."
"And what did you tell 'em?"
"I did what I had to do. I made up stories about having a girlfriend at home... And whatever else would keep them from asking too many questions." 
You nodded.
"They also bring their women to the castle and flaunt them like furs. Sometimes, it's literally for their blood. Most of the time, it's just to stroke their own ego by having pretty women hanging off them." Leon added.
Of course, the power-hungry vampire kings saw women as conquests. Ultimately, it shouldn't surprising that it would come to this.
── ・ 。☆*☽*☆゚.──
It's been a long, long day.
You have all the information you need at this point, and the exhaustion is quickly overtaking you. 
You yawn with outstretched arms, relaxing them to rub your heavy eyelids. Your body is finally warm, and you realize how well the bone-chilling cold kept you awake. 
"I'll show you to your room," Leon said, helping you collect the things you dumped around the room. He led you down a darkened hallway to your bedroom.
"There are some clothes and a few other things you may need. If you need anything else, my room is just across the hall," he stated, setting your things down. 
"Is there anything I need to know about tomorrow?" You added before Leon could step out of the room. 
"You'll have the day to adjust. We'll go over the mission then. Just focus on resting up for now."
His lips came to a subtle smile, "Goodnight."
You smiled back, "Goodnight to you too."
You surveyed the room, starting with the armoire. It was full of clothes that looked like they were from another time: grand dresses with sheer, lacy fabrics of black and red with low sweeping necklines. There was also a long black hooded cape, corsets, and tall-heeled boots. The drawers below housed underwear and pajamas. 
You slipped off your dingy clothes for a long black strappy nightgown from the armoire.
You hid your weapons around the room, your rifle, machete, and extra ammo in the closet, your knives in the vanity, and your pistol tucked under the mattress. 
Like the rest of the decor, the bed was ornate. It was intricately carved out of the same ashwood as the cabin. The white sheets were plush and soft to the touch.
After securing your room, you crawled into bed. Falling almost immediately into sleep. 
── ・ 。☆*☽*☆゚.──
Blinding white winter's light singed your vision as you woke up in a panic, a persistent cracking noise echoed from outside. It was a splintering sound as if someone was trying to get in.
You stealthily crawled out of bed and cracked open the bedroom curtain to peer outside. Nothing of interest could be seen, only the quiet woods blanketed by fresh snow.
The woods were now illuminated by sunshine, making them appear significantly less intimidating than last night. That didn't make them any less haunting, though.
Pistol in hand, You tiptoed through the house in search of Leon. First, you knocked on his bedroom door, and when he didn't answer, you investigated the rest of the house. 
There were no signs of Leon, only the smell of something cooking and the sound of that grating thudding noise echoing through the house. 
You silently opened the front door and exited barefoot, the coldness of the snow against your skin sending shivers up your spine. The satin fabric of your nightgown offered no protection from the elements.
One step at a time, you sneaked around the side of the house. The thudding got louder with each pace, and your heartbeat raced with adrenaline.
Carefully, You rounded the corner to the source of the noise. Arms straight, gun drawn.
Leon's eyes, bewildered, raked your figure, and he huffed a laugh, "Good morning, super cop. You must be freezing."
He looked down the barrel of the gun before you put it down.
He was just chopping wood.
Clearly, your senses were on high alert. You felt embarrassed that something so trivial and ordinary ticked those mental alarms.
Defensively, you retorted, "Well, I'm not the one chopping wood in a creepy vampire town first thing in the morning! For God's sake, I thought someone was breaking in or attacking!" You huffed, crossing your arms, a once panicked stare turning to one of annoyance.
Leon dropped the axe in the snow, reaching for a large piece of wood. 
"And coming outside, in the dead of winter, wearing only a nightgown would have made a difference?" Leon said with a smirk, but it dropped quickly as he again reached for the axe to chop another piece of wood.
"And a gun! You seemed to have missed that part, and what else was I supposed to do? Spend 10 minutes putting my gear on?" You argued with a pout. Muscles tensed as adrenaline melted away.
You were still waking up and not in the mood to argue. But yes, you definitely could have kicked ass in your pajamas.
"Okay, okay, I promise I'm done pestering you. Breakfast is on the stove. You should go eat." 
Begrudgingly, you walked back inside, mumbling your frustrations to yourself. It's safe to say you're not a fan of rude awakenings.
While lounging on the couch, you ate the breakfast of eggs and bacon Leon had prepared. You flipped through your logbook, filling in everything that happened in the last 24 hours.
Leon opened the front door, shaking off his snow-covered clothing before entering. He'd been out there for hours, and it was evident in the sweat that lingered down the side of his forehead. 
Standing in the foyer, Leon peeled off his brown fur-lined bomber jacket and casually pulled the sweat-drenched black t-shirt over his head.
You watched him from where you sat on the couch, a bit confused as he acted as if no one was around.
You got a glimpse of the toned plane that was his back. He stretched his arms out, unintentionally giving you a better view. He rolled out his sore shoulder blades for a moment, and you discreetly watched from the corner of your eye.
You stifled whatever the fuck that feeling was and resumed your logbook. 
In an attempt to find some grievance, you cleared your throat. It was subtle enough not to seem suspicious but clear enough that Leon definitely heard you. 
But you're sure he was aware of you the entire time.
Leon walked toward the hallway and said, "I have a business to take care of at the castle; when I get back, we'll go over what's expected for the mission tomorrow. You'll find the notebook I've kept about these people on the bookshelf. You should skim it to familiarize yourself."
He walked into the bathroom without waiting for your reply. The only sound was the door shutting behind him.
Leon had left to take care of his end of the mission, and you remained alone in the cabin for the rest of the day. 
You bathed and changed into real clothes, skipping over the elaborate dresses in favor of the spare black jeans and long-sleeve t-shirt you packed. 
You left your bedroom to head to the living room but stopped at Leon's door adjacent to yours. 
You were curious about what his room looked like, and rightfully so. He was rather serious, not letting off much about his personal side. Even while working, other agents, like Jill Valentine, had more outward displays of self-identity. 
You wondered what the man behind the agent's identity was like, But you respectfully kept walking.
Typically, you're not overly curious about your cohorts, But people like Leon and Jill lived through the same tragedy you did. You often felt alone in your pain, But you found a sliver of comfort in knowing that you, in fact, were not.
You flipped through the very detailed notes Leon had taken. He explained the parasite they intended to use for "world domination," the pecking order amongst the rulers, detailed maps of the castle, and whatever else he found out. 
── ・ 。☆*☽*☆゚.──
"Hey, wake up," Leon said gently, nudging your shoulder. 
You woke up sitting on the floor, arms crossed and body hunched over the coffee table. 
Through blurry vision, you saw Leon beside you, wearing a fancy white dress shirt and a tie loose around his neck. 
"What time is it?" You mumbled, sitting up to stretch out your very numb legs. 
"Late—I got back about an hour ago, I made dinner if you're hungry."
Leon reached out a hand, and you took it. Grunting as he helped you up.
"Yeah, I am," You replied, your stomach grumbling.
You sat at the dining table with Leon. He prepared grilled veggies and chicken for dinner, which was surprisingly good. 
"How'd it go," you asked between bites. 
"Fine, everything is going according to plan. We're all set for tomorrow," Leon replied,
"What exactly are we doing tomorrow?" you raised an eyebrow.
"I'm sure you saw those dresses in your room. You'll have to wear one, but it's easy from there. You'll stay quiet and follow my lead. You'll have to act like my girlfriend. But it will also be a good time to familiarize yourself with the castle and, you know, memorize the layout." 
Leon took a sip of wine and offered you a gentle look, "Are you okay with that?"
You replied, "Of course I am. It's a pretty small price to pay to take these fuckers down." You flashed a cheeky grin before taking a sip of your wine. "We got this."
You continued to talk over dinner, going back and forth and sharing each other's backgrounds. You told Leon about your experience in Raccoon City— what had happened and how you'd escaped it. 
But for you, It was surreal hearing about Leon's involvement in the incident. Hearing about the people he saved, the enemies he took down, and the sacrifices he made were… Comforting. 
Comforting to know someone else could actually relate to you. 
Comforting to know there is hope.
You know there are scars deep below the surface—you know that from experience. But meeting someone who still cares so much about helping others proves that those wounds do, in fact, heal.
You and Leon cleaned up the kitchen before saying goodnight and heading to your rooms for the night.
You lay in your plush bed, unable to sleep. Your mind is whirring with a frenzy of emotions. Your conversation with Leon is still sinking in. The nerves concerning tomorrow's mission stake their claim. 
It's okay. It's okay.
You try to soothe yourself. Suppress whatever unreconciled emotions were brought up.
Just finish the mission.
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— PART II —
A beautifully lavish Victorian-style ball gown adorned your body. It has a flowing tiered skirt constructed from deep, blood-red satin. The bodice was corseted tightly to your abdomen, pushing your breasts up so that they are nearly spilling out of the gown's low square neckline. The quarter sleeves fit tightly but poof out at your elbows with frilly lace. The whole ensemble is accented with black bows and delicate lacework.
You watched yourself in the vanity mirror as you carefully pinned your hair up. Enchanted by the unfamiliar person the mirror reflected back.
This wasn't you. But a princess.
A princess who has never killed or witnessed the mass extinction of innocent people. A princess who didn't have to give up her normal life against her will.
Although seeing yourself dressed up like the beautiful person you'll never be was strange. But maybe, battle-scarred government agents could wear pretty dresses, sometimes.
With your hair set in place, you head to the living room, where you are met by Leon in an equally uncharacteristic outfit.
He took in your appearance, a smile decorating his face. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words came out.
You filled the silence instead. "You look nice." You spoke softly.
He did look nice.
Leon wore a billowy white shirt with ruffles along the neckline. The plunging neckline had a small corset-style detail, and it was tucked into a pair of perfectly fitted black trousers.
Simple, but effectively good-looking. The fit of his clothes came off as rich and a little romantic. Well suited for a band of vampires.
"As do you," Leon said, voice deep and restricted.
You hid your face by looking down at your shoes, concealing the growing flush along your cheeks. "Thank you." You said in almost a whisper.
"Are you ready?" he asked, offering his arm to you.
You nod in affirmation and thread your arm through his.
Leon led you through a little stone path through the woods. At this time, it was only about an hour before dusk.
The combination of winter woods and the near-setting sun created an image of beautiful calm. If you were to let your mind wander, It would feel like you were on a date, taking a stroll through the forest.
"I told you these cultists were sick bastards, right?" Leon said too casually.
You nod, "Yes, you definitely mentioned that."
The dense woods begin to clear, and the path leads to a small village. At the horizon, the pointed spikes of a grand castle make a lethal appearance. You take it all in, honing yourself into a covert weapon. Descending into this "character" of unexpected harm.
"And you understand that how I'll behave tonight is all a part of the act?" Leon asks for your assurance one last time before entering the village.
Your heels land on the cobblestone that had been cleared of snow. The warm glow of the town's candlelight radiates as the sun begins to set.
Making brief eye contact with a villager, you squeeze Leon's arm a little tighter and murmur, "I could say the same to you, my lord." A wicked smile now painted your face.
Leon whispered lowly, "Glad to see you're committed to the bit."
As a pair, you two walked through the town's main pathway, a straight shot to the looming castle ahead. You noted that the townspeople were off. 
Very, very off.
They behaved more like mindless zombies than people; their eyes glowed crimson red. Most of them just walked by idly, with no sense of purpose. Others stood hauntingly still, staring at you so intensely you felt it in your soul.
Even the farm animals that lingered on the streets were off. They walked erratically, and their eyes glowed, too.
This place gave you the creeps. Typical Umbrella.
Reaching the castle at last— It demanded your attention with its many oversized spires and massive arched windows. Light flowed red through the stained glass, adding to its intensity.
The snow-covered graveyard and cross-tipped spires informed you this wasn't just a castle but an unholy cathedral.
You had to walk through the graveyard to reach the entrance. You noted the tombstones engraved with outdated French names and dates as far back as the 1800s. It all added to the ancient terror surrounding the looming cathedral.
Upon arriving, the massive arched door began to creak open, and a man clad in a dark red suit greeted the two of you with a thick French accent. "Good evening, Sir Kennedy. We are so very pleased that you and your-" he paused, a sly smile forming, "madame, could make it."
Leon did not reply to the doorman.
He walked past with his head held high and eyes peering downwards. His look emanated superiority as if he had no interest in conversation with a man so far below him.
Leon grabbed your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours, guiding you up the curved stairs that dominated the foyer.
You passed servants who wore simple, white, floor-length dresses with aprons and bonnets. Each servant stopped in their tracks to bow their head as you, he, walked past.
The action sent chills down your spine.
What was the true extent of power he reached in this so-called monarchy?
You arrived at a grand arched doorway swirled with ornamental gold detailing. Two men opened the doors in unison, letting you through.
Elegant music flooded the huge open ballroom. Orchestral pianos and violins serenaded your ears.
People waltzed, people drank wine, people talked, and the vampires watched.
On the dais, the looming darkness of men sitting on ornate thrones watched the every move of the people below.
Every seat was occupied except for one.
Everything suddenly stopped. The music went silent, and the people parted, bowing their heads down.
Slowly, you two approached the dais, Standing hand in hand at the steps. The man who sat in the centermost seat smiled devilishly. "Glad you could make it, Lord Kennedy." His French accent was thick.
Leon bowed his head. "Of course, your majesty."
"Why would you want to miss a ball as extravagant, as special, as this one, anyways? Lord Kennedy, we wouldn't want to disappoint our guest, wouldn't we?"
The Lord ticked an eyebrow, reaching a pale, lanky hand to you.
Leon's breath seized but quickly relaxed as he let go of your hand, hinting for you to accept.
You gracefully walked the steps, rhythmically breathing in and out to offset the heavy heartbeat that accompanied each step. The air loomed cold and silent as the echoes of your footsteps filled the hall.
The King was pale as fresh snow, with icy blue veins protruding from his skin. His eyes were glowing red, and long black hair cascaded down his shoulders to his chest. He wore an ornate gold, black, and red suit and a crown topped his head. He looked as if he was once very handsome, but now, he is not so good-looking.
You rested your hand on him, avoiding eye contact. His freezing touch sent a shiver through you.
The King lowered his head and placed a prolonged kiss on the back of your hand. His left hand grabbed your upper arm, turning it so your wrist faced upward. He ran his fingers down your arm, resting on your wrist. A devilish grin formed on his thin lips, presumably from the pleasure in whatever he found in you.
His head raised, but his hand remained fixed on your wrist. You made eye contact this time. His gleaming eyes burrowing into yours.
You could feel your hot blood running against his cold touch. Your pulse filled the silence of the too-quiet ballroom. You wanted to run, but not without a fight, and get out of this Umbrella Corporation daymare.
"Ma chérie," he whispered into your skin.
There is no running. No fighting. Today, you must pretend.
Leon stood beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist, his eyes dark, looking down at the still-seated King.
"Isn't she beautiful?" Leon asked rhetorically, a bite in his tone.
The Lord laughed, releasing your hand.
"No need to be so overbearing, Leon. N'aie pas peur. Please sit and join your fellow nobility."
The last empty chair was his. You scanned the other taken thrones. Some of the men were already turned, marked distinctively by glowing, crimson eyes and a lifeless complexion.
Although some, like Leon, had not yet been turned.
From your reading the previous day, you learned that in the eyes of the cult immortality was a privilege, not a right. They believed one must earn that privilege by dedicated service to the organization before even being considered.
Leon took a seat, relaxing on his throne. You stood beside him awkwardly, not entirely knowing what to do. But, with a tap at your side, you figured it out.
You perched on Leon's lap, your billowy dress flowing over his legs and spilling like blood onto the marble floor. He wrapped a hand around your corseted abdomen, and the other rested in your lap.
Your heart raced a little harder.
"You must be in need of a drink." The King asked.
"Some music would be nice, too," Leon said with a scoff loud enough for musicians on the floor to hear.
The music resumed, and again, the bowing people began dancing. Still, it was finally replaced by the movement and energy of song and dance.
One of the white dress servants arrived with two glasses full of red wine upon a silver platter. Leon made no effort to grab them, so you took them both, passing one off to him.
Leon pressed his lips��up to your ear, "drink up, baby," he whispered.
You almost forgot— even your whispers could be herd by the immortal's keen hearing. Every thing that was said, even in a murmur, had to be in line.
It was strange to hear him talk like that, but admittedly you weren't bothered. Although the closeness was unexpected, It's been a long time since you were this close to someone. It had been a year? Maybe two? Since you were at all intimate with another person.
It felt good. He radiated warmth, his touch was gentle, and his handsomeness unmatched.
You downed your glass while Leon sipped on his. His scanning eyes watched the crowd, occasionally flickering back to the King but always ending on you.
He admired as your painted lips caressed the edge of the fine crystal wine glass and how your throat bobbed with each drink.
He called for a refill and demanded more, which the servants promptly fulfilled, And they kept it coming. After every glass you two emptied, they refilled.
Amongst themselves, Leon and the vampire Lords talked about courtly business. and as they talked, Leon's large hands ran down your leg, pulling up your skirt, and exposing up to your knee.
They were talking about war, and all rather intense subject matters. But Leon's hand kept working higher up your legs. Petting and caressing every bit of exposed skin. The King couldn't look away, neither could the other lords, or even the people below.
He used you as a spectacle, to assert his dominance, and power over the rest of the court, and it worked. The commoners were afraid of him, and the lords respected him. He mastered the facade of villainous superiority that belittled all in its path. One that possessed his lover entirely and wanted the world to know it.
His lavish touch across your legs, mixed with the headiness of the wine, brought you to a euphoric state. Coaxed by his affection, you can't help but submit.
Your back arched into his abdomen, yearning for more touch. You could not recall any of the words spoken around you, only the ecstasy of his lips meeting your neck. A soft whisper of a kiss was all he gave you, but your breathing hitched, and your body heated.
You were damned. Damned for liking it as much as you did.
He paused for a moment. Only a minute's break in time, and he still left you internally begging like a dog.
"My, my, what a statement you're making, Lord Kennedy. You plan on sharing?" The King taunted, practically drooling at your bare, pawing legs.
You spoke for the first time the entire night, causing every member of the court's head (that wasn't already) to turn.
"No."
You shot an arrow through the King's fragile pride.
The King's lip twitched. "What a defiant whore you managed to fish up."
Leon laughed, grinning wildly, "Oh, well, you should see how well she obeys me." He patted your thigh in approval, placing an absolutely panty-drenching kiss along your neck.
The King rolled his eyes, but lords couldn't hide their amusement as they stifled back laughter.
Leon rested his knuckle under your chin, "Go on, my love, apologize."
The King retorted snappily, "There's no need for that."
Thank God.
You took an extra large drink of wine to ease the tension, falling back into Leon's warm chest.
They continued on as if nothing ever happened, talking about things you knew nothing about.
Leon listened, cool and aloof, but his hands satiated your need. He resumed the game of inching higher up your leg. His warm fingers trace dizzying circles along your inner thigh.
His calloused fingers felt rough and masculine against your velvet soft skin. He squeezed your thigh, accidentally eliciting a lusty whimper from you.
"You like that, don't you, pretty girl?" Leon's breath grazed along your neck, his lips taunting you mere centimeters away from your bare skin.
You pressed your back into the hardness of his body, a needy and desperate attempt for more—more of his lavish touch. You didn't even care who saw.
You turned a cheek, sharing Leon's darkened, sultry gaze. The usual warmth in his pale blue eyes was totally vacant. He observed you like prey, nothing more than a deer in the crosshairs.
The hand that rested on your waist dragged up to your face and cupped your jaw, his thumb petting your lip, transferring your red lipstick to his skin.
His grip on your thigh intensified, digging hard into your skin. Your lips parted with a soft gasp, and your legs opened wider in response to his touch.
Hunter and hunted.
Leon bit his lip as he slid his finger into your mouth. Your lips puckered pretty around his finger, and Leon watched in feral attraction as you teased him with the tip of your tongue. You oozed confidence and sultry submission, letting your doe eyes do the talking.
The lines between the act and reality truly blurred.
The way he touched you felt too real, too right. You craved more than just the teasing.
As if in an answer, Leon's hands migrated lower and lower down your abdomen. Finally, working to where you craved most. But, he couldn't find the proof of how good he made you feel. Your soaking wet underwear would be damning to your case.
In a desperate attempt, you arched your back, attempting to pull yourself away from his wandering touch. In turn, you could feel the unmistakable hardness in his pants pressing against your back.
Oh, he wanted you too. At this stage, you both should just be condemned.
The on-lookers watched from below as you pressed into Leon's length. You ground yourself against him. Your skin glowed with sweat, and strands of hair were falling from your updo and swept around your face.
There were no secrets in the way you felt; you practically radiated sex, intimacy, and everything in between.
One of Leon's hands dragged up your body and grasped your ribcage directly under your breast. The other rested on your collarbones. He pulled your ear to his lips and whispered, "Don't let it go to your head."
You swallowed, heart racing. "What?"
Leon's arrogant grin now pressed against your ear. "That every man in this room is imagining themselves in my place. Don't forget that you belong to me, darling."
"I would never-" You were cut short by Leon's grip tightening around your abdomen.
"Don't patronize me," he demanded, but his white-knuckle grip loosened and transformed into apologetic strokes down your side.
"Yes, my lord." Sweet and submissive.
The King seemed to approve, as marked by an appraising nod he shared with Leon.
A servant walked by, head hung low, and Leon's voice cracked like thunder. "Wine, now." Pure demand in his voice.
You drank the seemingly bottomless glasses of wine Leon ordered. You should have stopped, but you drank on to avoid any unfavorable conversations.
Tonight, you learned that French vampires love to drink.
The night grew late-- You, Leon, and the other Lords were drunker than sailors. Conversations of importance were divulged into off-topic chit-chat and banter. The people below slow-danced to the soft ballads that hummed through the castle.
It was a struggle to stay awake. All the wine, the music, the expectations, the teasing. It tired you out. Your head lay in Leon's chest, soaking up his sent-- Open sky and rugged woods. Your dainty hands gracefully stroked his exposed chest, painting little circles, occasionally your hands reached up to play with his pretty blonde hair. Leon languidly stroked your arm, head resting lazily to the side.
Leon sat up, shifting you with him, and cleared his throat, "My king, It's been a pleasure, but we should head back now."
"Why don't you just say the night? I would hate to see your poor madame walk all the way back to your... Maison, this late."
You and Leon exchanged a look; you weren't exactly sure if he had accounted for this in his plan. Your eyebrows threaded together, a look of annoyance and confusion, but Leon quickly turned away.
"What a hospitable offer, your highness." He responded eloquently. He knew that someone who was actually in his place would never reject an offer like that.
"It's the least I can do for you, Lord Kennedy; after all, you've been so dedicated to our cause." A sly villain-like smirk formed on the King's lips.
Leon politely bowed his head in acknowledgment.
The King snapped his fingers, and without an exchange of words, a servant was at the throne you and Leon shared.
You both stood up and followed her, hand in hand.
You passed by the other Lords still seated along the dais. Their prowling eyes raked your body as you walked by. Leon was right; you were in everyone's minds. Stripped bare and doing unspeakable things to them.
It repulsed you to be thirsted over by depraved vampire lords, but in some sacrilegious facet of your mind, you were flattered by it. You even walked in a way that accentuated your hips, teasing them just a little more.
You were just passing the King's throne when suddenly someone grabbed your arm. It was the King who had implored his icy hand around your arm, pulling you into him. You gasped as he bent you over the armrest of his throne and placed a kiss on your cheek. "Bonne nuit, ma chérie" He whispered in your ear.
He activated your desire to fight back; you wanted to place your hands around the scrawny King's neck and kill him right there. You could without any resistance, too.
But, you suppressed your urge. Sweet and submissive, you told yourself. You already got yourself in enough trouble with your previous stunt, best not to ruin it now.
"Goodnight, your Highness," you muttered back as dainty and feminine as you could manage.
The King released you, and as you took a step back, you were in Leon's chest; his arms were quick to wrap around you, like a knight in shining armor waiting for his princess.
As you left the dais, the people of the ballroom once again stopped dancing, and bowed as you and Leon walked through, escorted by the servant.
She showed you to your room, opened the door, bowed, and left promptly.
The room was entirely white and gold, similar in design to the rest of the castle, but featuring a giant bed in the middle of the room with a canopy of pooling gauzy fabric.
"What are we supposed to do now?" you whispered once the door was closed behind you.
Leon rubbed the temples of his forehead as if he had a headache, "I'm not sure. I didn't expect him to want us to stay the night."
You looked around the room, unsure of what to do now. "Should we escape?"
Leon peaked his head out the window, surveying the area, "That's an option, but risky," he muttered. "It would blow our cover when they inevitably found us gone. The plan was to kill the nobility a few days from now, on the full moon. That's when they're planning on turning one of the human lords immortal."
"Why does it have to be then? Can't it just be now? They're all drunk and lounging around, for God's sake!" You accidentally raised your voice, and Leon shushed you by pressing his finger to your lips.
"When they turn someone immortal, they have to use the parasite... The plan is to steal the parasite during the ceremony and then kill them. We need to bring it back to America so it can be studied.
But, I haven't been able to find where they store them; as far as I'm aware, only the King knows. That's why I've been waiting for the ceremony."
"So... We stay?" you said defeatedly.
"Unfortunately."
You looked around the room, rummaging through the wardrobe and the various drawers throughout. Everything was empty except for the Holy Bible in a desk drawer.
"You can have the bed, I'll take the couch." Leon offered kicking off his boots before sitting on the small white and gold couch.
"That couch is so small, you can have the bed." You tried to negotiate.
"No, no, it's all yours. I've slept on much worse than this." He said, stretching his legs out along the couch. It was too short for him, so his feet dangled off the armrest.
You sighed; there's no point in arguing.
"Well, I can't sleep in this dress. It weighs about 20lbs, and it's too damn hot."
"There was no spare clothes?" Leon asked.
"Nope."
Leon looked around the room, eyebrows stitched together in thought, before he resolved, "You can have my shirt."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, It's no trouble at all, really."
Leon remained where he was on the couch, eyes closed.
You stood on the other side of the room, fumbling with the corseting on your dress, unable to unlace it. "How the hell did I even get this on earlier?" you mumbled to yourself.
Leon's eyes perked open, watching you struggle. He cleared his throat, "Do you need help with that?"
You didn't answer but still struggled.
Leon took it upon himself to help you. He walked over and began unlacing the many rows of tight lacing along the back of your dress.
"Thank you," you said so very quietly.
"I wanted to apologize for earlier, I—"
You cut him off, "Don't—You don't have to apologize. I understand, truly."
Silence loomed over the room, and only the sound of fabric rustling filled the void. You tried to find the right words to say, but you came up empty-handed.
Leon reached the last eyelet, and you held the gown at the bust so it wouldn't fall off. Although you admittedly wouldn't mind if it did.
Your back was entirely exposed to him, only inches away from pressing against his chest. Your mind slipped— what if you took a step back? Let him do what you want him to do. Let him explore your body even more than he did earlier.
His strong hands could surely do a lot, and his pretty blonde hair would look great between your legs—
God damn.
Leon broke your silent daydream by taking off his white-ruffled shirt. He handed it off to you at your side, gentlemen-like.
He meandered back to the couch, resuming his position of outstretched legs along the cushions, closing his eyes.
You checked over your shoulder to ensure his eyes were closed, and then you let your dress fall to the ground.
You dawned Leon's shirt. The cottony fabric felt soft against your skin and smelled overwhelming like him, rugged and masculine.
In the mirror, you watched yourself let down your updo, letting your hair fall and combing it out with your fingers. Here is where you noticed that Leon's shirt is just a little too sheer.
The outline of your silhouette was vaguely noticeable through his airy shirt, but your nipples were definitely visible.
Oh well.
You folded up the gown and placed it at the foot of the bed atop the quilted velvet ottoman. You were about to get into bed before peaking one more glance at Leon.
He was statuesque in the way his body stretched along the couch. He had a hand atop his very defined abs, and his other arm dangled off the couch.
The faint blueish hue of the moon illuminated him in gentle light, it was the only light in the room, save for the single lit candle next to the bed.
Leon was so pretty in the way he slept. He looked so at peace, so beautiful, and so kissable.
It pained you to not invite him to your bed; maybe in another lifetime, you would have.
But you certainly could not let him sleep without a blanket or a pillow.
You peeled off the first blanket layer of your bed, grabbed one of the many over-filled pillows, and tiptoed to where Leon rested.
Gently, you set a folded blanket on the foot of Leon's bed, causing him to open his eyes.
"What are you doing?" Leon's mumble trailed off into a yawn.
You whispered, "I don't want you to get cold, so I'm giving you some of my blankets."
Leon smiled faintly. "Oh, I see…" he trailed off and then added, "Thanks for that."
You looked pretty; your hair and makeup were a mess but in all the right ways.
Leon noticed how pretty you were. How pretty you were in his shirt, with nothing else underneath.
"I hope this is enough for you."
"Yes, it's more than enough," he reassured.
"I'm going to head to my bed then, goodnight Leon."
He didn't show it, and you would never know it, but he loved how you said his name.
"Goodnight to you, too."
In that moment, time stood still. You couldn't walk away. You wanted to bask in the shared space of each other's gazes, bound by lust. Leon, too, made no attempt to break away.
You'll probably regret it later, but there is no harm in trying, right?
Instead of leaving, you bent down as if to pick something up, but you stopped when you reached his ear.
"Leon..." You whispered quietly.
"Yes?"
Your heartbeat raced so fast it felt like it was gonna jump out of your chest. "Do you really want me to go?"
Leon paused, raking his mind for the correct answer. "No."
He turned his head, pressing his forehead to yours, and resting his hand on the back of your neck, running his fingers through your hair.
"I didn't want to either," you said breathily.
He smiled and kissed you. The first real kiss you shared. It felt like a wave of warmth crashing down your body, every one of your instincts telling you yes. His lips were soft and gentle against your own.
"I couldn't stop thinking about you," Leon whispered into the kiss.
You replied, "Me neither."
Leon pulled you by your waist, sitting you on top of him, and deepened the kiss by grazing his tongue against yours. He tasted purely of wine.
Your hands ran desperately through Leon's hair as his hands caressed your ribcage down to your hips. His grasp settled onto your waist, stroking his thumbs along your ribs. You playfully bit his lip, praising the way he touched you.
Leon's lips broke away from yours, and they began to press small kisses down your cheek, and then your neck, and then your chest. Every single one felt like pure ecstasy against your skin.
Your arms wrapped around Leon's neck as you arched your back, pressing your chest deeper into his kiss. His grasp along your waist tightened with your movement.
He was aching and so hard in the confined trousers he still wore; Leon rocked you against himself while he made out with your chest.
You moaned with gasping breaths at the feeling of him rutting into you, your head falling back carelessly.
Leon's hand met the spots he kissed, dancing along the wet skin of your chest. His wandering fingers teased the outer edge of the shirt you wore, wanting to pull it down. His lips followed down the V of the shirt, But before he could do anything more, you raised your arms, slipping the shirt over your head.
You were entirely exposed to him, save for your underwear. Leon thanked you by pressing kisses along your pretty breasts, thumbs twirling around your hardened nipples. His lips met where his thumbs danced, puckering his lips around your nipples, stroking and sucking them with his tongue.
You gasped, nearly at the edge of becoming undone. Leon worshipped your breasts like his own personal deity, letting out low, strained moans.
You lost all sense of control, grinding yourself into Leon's bulging lap, getting off at the sensation of his cock twitching for you.
"More," You moaned as Leon released the suck on your nipple with a wet-sounding smack.
You pressed down on Leon's chest, pushing him into the couch.
God, you looked so lovely and desperate from Leon's perspective.
Your hands slipped between your legs, resting on the bulge that strained between them. You caressed him through the fabric, teasing him with a pouty smirk.
Leon's mouth gaped slightly, sucking in a breath as he watched you adore him. You nimbly unbuttoned his pants, pulling down the zipper.
Leon sat up and pushed you back so your legs wrapped around his waist. He stood up, picking you up with ease, and walked you to the bed, gently resting you onto the fortress of overstuffed pillows.
He took off his trousers before joining you, his protruding cock making a tent in his underwear.
"You're beautiful," Leon fawned at your figure before bending down to kiss your thighs. "I loved touching your legs earlier, darling," he added.
You're fully melting at his sugar-covered affections.
You sat up, taking Leon's head in your delicate hands with a devouring kiss. You pulled him back, so he laid on top of you. One of his arms embraced you, and the other brushed between your legs.
His fingers toyed with you, sweetly caressing you through your soaked underwear. You moaned into the kiss as Leon began tracing small circles over the fabric. His hands then nuzzled beneath your underwear, meeting your aching sex fully.
His calloused fingers lapped your cunt, but ended on your clit, circling it gently. You broke from his kiss, head arching back from the intensity of pleasure you felt. Leon licked his lips as he watched you fold under him. Leon tugged off your underwear, deepening your pleasure as he rubbed his fingers around your opening.
Your hands, in desperate need of touch, caressed the expanse of Leon's amazingly defined torso. It alone killed you, the sheer strength he possessed. He was trained into a lethal weapon, but man, did he feel so good.
From Leon's torso, you ventured lower, tugging at the waistband of his underwear. Leon's gaze met your begging doe eyes, pleading him for more.
With your help, he pulled off his underwear, releasing his pretty, throbbing cock. Your hand softly wrapped around his length, petting him slowly. Leon's breath hitched as you did so.
You wrapped a leg around Leon's waist, pulling yourself up to straddle him. Perched on his lap, you rested your soaking cunt onto the length of his cock. Leon's hands dug into your hips, grinding his himself against your folds.
"Leon," you gasped, soaking in the feeling of him beneath you.
He moaned, hungrily watching the way your bodies met.
He sat up, pressing his chest against your stomach, and pressed kisses along your breasts. As he did so, he lifted you up by the waist, giving himself just enough space to push his length into you.
Loudly, you whimpered as his length filled your entire cunt. You bounced yourself on Leon as he sucked your nipples.
Leon released you from his mouth, lying back down, fingers digging into your upper thighs as he fucked himself into you hard. Letting his entire length fill you up before pulling back.
You couldn't help your hopeless cries and moans as his pace picked up, fucking you like the world depended on it. Maybe it did.
You were a few forceful pumps away from reaching your peak, and as you forced yourself into him even deeper, Leon lifted you up by the waist, off of him.
Dazed, you whined, "Why."
He only responded by nudging you over onto your hands and knees, spreading your legs wide for himself.
Leon's cock pressed at your entrance while his hand toyed with your clit, teasing you. He so very slowly pushed himself in, making you feel every inch of his length as he entered you.
"Just like that," he hushed under a moan and then rammed his cock into you, building up speed, fucking you faster and faster.
Your nails dug into the bed sheets, reaching for something that does not exist. Leon smacked your ass with a deep moan as his tip reached even deeper inside of you.
The only noise filling the room was the sound of your skin clapping against his and your shared feverish moans.
"You feel so good," you cooed, pawing at the sheets. "I don't think I can last much longer."
He slowed down his pace, pulling his cock almost entirely out of you before inching himself back in. "You can last just a little longer for me, pretty girl."
"Okay, yes, please just fuck me harder," you pleaded. Grinding yourself on his length, desperate for more than he was giving.
"Well, since you asked so nicely," Leon groaned and fucked you so hard that the bed was shaking back and forth. His arm reached up from behind, grasping your neck in his hand. He was hunched over you, fingers squeezing your jaw as he plunged deeper and faster.
His teeth were clenched, and his breath was fast as he burrowed his throbbing cock so far into your cunt that you came completely undone, crying his name as you rode your climax out.
"Leon, Leon, Leon," you cried as your wetness dripped down his leg.
Leon's breath seized as he pulled himself out of you, resting his cock on the small of your back, spilling hot all over your skin.
His grasp loosened, trailing down your neck. His head rested on your back, reeling himself back from his climax.
You rested your body, splaying yourself along the bed. Leon got off of you and frantically looked around the room for something to wipe your back with. He settled on the blanket you had left for him on the couch, thinking to himself, their problem, not mine.
"Thanks," you giggled as he cleaned you off.
He crawled into bed, tucking into the massive billowy covers, and you did the same. You blew out the single candle next to the bedside, leaving only moonlight to douse the room.
Leon opened up his arm, beckoning you into his embrace.
You cuddled him, soaking up his scent and his warmth. All while relishing in the tingling euphoria your body felt.
"Goodnight, for real?" Leon said quietly, sleep heavy in his voice.
"Goodnight, for real, Leon." Your heavy lids shut, falling into sleep.
── ・ 。☆*☽*☆゚.──
You wake up on Leon's chest to a knock at the door. The morning sun singed the pounding headache induced by last night's wine-filled activities.
Leon woke up, too, wincing and rubbing his temples. He got out of bed, pulling on his underwear and pants.
Leon's hair was a disheveled mess, and the remnants of your lipstick still stained his neck and his cheek. He answered the door to one of the servants standing there.
She bowed, her thick French accent trembling. "Lord Kennedy, I apologize if I interrupted, but the king wants a word with you."
"Can you show me to the bath first? You can't seriously expect me to talk to him looking like this?" he sounded harsh, and you almost forgot about the character he had to play.
Her voice trembled. "Yes, of course, sir. Not that you look bad, but yes, I'll show you to the bath."
"And her too," the servant peaked her head through the doorway, under the arm that Leon propped himself up with, and saw you, sitting up in bed, covering your naked body with the duvet.
She immediately ducked back in line, "Yes, of course." she bowed her head once more.
Leon tossed you his shirt, which was lying on the ground beside the couch. Quickly put it on, and with a motion of his hand, Leon summoned you to him.
You acted shy, meekly hiding behind Leon.
"Follow me, My lord," The servant hushed, trailing you two down the hallway.
As you tiptoed down the hall, you were barefoot and more exposed than you cared to be. It felt slightly embarrassing, but there was no point in caring now, was there? At least you found amusement in a shirtless Leon.
The servant guided Leon to a bathroom for himself. She signaled him in with her hand while her head was low.
Before he entered, he added, looking down at the servant. "And get her a new dress, she can't go out looking like that... And she wouldn't be caught dead wearing her evening dress during the day, would she?" Leon sounded like an absolute asshole, but that was somehow amusing.
"Yes, my lord," She bowed for the 100th time.
He entered the bathing room, closing the door behind him, and the servant showed you to another bathroom.
── ・ 。☆*☽*☆゚.──
You bathed in a massive clawfoot tub, sweet floral soap washing off all the makeup and memories of last night.
You were not sure how to even feel about last night. You'd never slept with a coworker before; you barely sleep with anyone anymore. Is this going to make things awkward when you leave? Or are you to pretend nothing happened at all?
A servant knocked on the door, interrupting your silent pondering before letting herself in. She quietly hung a pretty cream-colored Victorian gown hanging behind the door.
"Madame, Lord Kennedy is speaking with the King. He has asked you to wait while they finish up. We prepared breakfast for you in the dining room in case they go long. When you're ready, the dining room is down the stairs and to the left."
Who are you kidding, there are more pressing issues ahead; you're bathing and being fed in a vampire cult's castle for God's sake.
"Thank you," you said sweetly.
The servant promptly left the bathroom with a bow.
Soon, you will eliminate these vile creatures and leave. You just have to tough it out a little longer. One more day of acting like a mild-tempered little plaything, and this will all be over.
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part two coming soon xx
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ellemj · 12 hours
Text
Breathe: Part 2 (Final Part)
Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Two-Part Fic
Read Part 1 here.
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Summary: Bucky shows you what it's like to not be able to breathe. It's how you make him feel every time you risk your life, after all, it's only fair for you to feel the same way for once.
Warnings: profanity, enemies to lovers type vibe, oral sex (male receiving), maybe breath play??, dirty talk, fingering, mutual pining.
Word Count: 3.1k
A/N: I've been super busy over the last few weeks and truly haven't had the time to write, even when I've had the motivation to. With the things I've experienced this month I'm honestly on the brink of branching into writing angst. To briefly trauma dump, having someone scream and beg you to save a life that is hours beyond saving can really push a girl to write angst. Anyway, I should be able to write a lot more in the coming weeks and I'm excited to interact with you all again.
            If Bucky was thinking straight, he wouldn’t have the image of his flesh hand fisted in your hair flashing through his mind right now.  He wouldn’t be thinking about kissing and sucking along the side of your neck as your hands work to unbuckle his belt and undo his pants. If he was thinking straight, he sure as hell wouldn’t be about to give you exactly what you asked for.
            Show me what it’s like.
            What what’s like?
            Not being able to breathe.
            The tense exchange is on replay in his head as he looks at you with a hardened gaze. The tip of your index finger grazes over the skin of his lower stomach, just above his belt, as you stare back at him. Why did you ask for it? He can’t help but wonder within himself, why did you ask for some filthy variation of his cock in your mouth? Does it have anything to do with him? Or is he simply the only one around to give you one last adrenaline rush before you’re benched indefinitely? Does he even care?
            Your fingertips slip more fully under the hem of his shirt and you trace one of his v-lines with the same finger that was previously lingering along his belt. Bucky takes a deep, steady breath as another image flashes through his mind. He imagines his hand tangled in your hair as you hollow your cheeks and take every fucking inch of his cock into your goddamn mouth. In this moment, he doesn’t care if you’re only willing to suck his dick in want of an adrenaline rush or whatever the fuck else is driving you right now. All he cares about is showing you how you make him feel every single time you rush out into the field, ready to get yourself killed. All he cares about is showing you what it’s like when your lungs are starved of air and you can’t catch a full breath. He’s going to fucking show you.
            “Take it off.” Bucky’s voice comes out low and commanding in a way that has tingles running down your spine in an instant. As bold as you felt when you asked him what you asked him just a moment earlier, you find yourself suddenly unsure.
            “What?” Your hand falters against his skin. Does he want your hand off? Bucky senses your hesitation and his flesh hand quickly finds yours and guides it back down to the buckle of his belt.
            “My belt. Take it off.” Again, your hand falters. Bucky isn’t thinking at all when he lifts his own hand and lets his palm conform to the curve of your jaw, when his thumb gently brushes over your cheek. He has every ounce of your attention now. Your hands start working on autopilot, pulling the end of his belt through its loop and undoing the buckle with ease. Bucky’s thumb continues circling against your cheek, his eyes lingering on your face as you undo the button of his pants and grasp the zipper between your thumb and forefinger. “You listen so well when your life isn’t on the line.” He says, almost disappointedly. But then again, if you listened to orders in the field like everyone else, the two of you probably wouldn’t be where you are right now. When you start to tug his zipper down, he quickly places a hand over the back of yours and stops you.
            Your fucking eyes. The way you’re looking at him right now, with that damn innocent look in your eye like you’ve never touched a man’s zipper before, is doing unholy things to him. Bucky can feel his cock hardening to an uncomfortable degree, and he knows you can feel it too with where your hand is resting right now.
            “Maybe you should take advantage of that.” You whisper softly. Bucky narrows his eyes at you.
            “Of what?”
            “How well I listen when my life isn’t on the line.” A small smile plays on your lips and Bucky finds it simultaneously infuriating and undeniably attractive. His eyes coast away from your face and down your arm, all the way to where your hand rests beneath his on his zipper. He catches sight of the hair tie you removed from your hair earlier still tight around your wrist. Letting his hand fall away from yours, his signature smirk takes over his features.
            “Tie your hair back.”
            You never knew Bucky Barnes held so much power over you.
            He can’t stop staring at you, studying you as you do exactly what he asked. As you tie your hair back, he can feel the tension growing all around him. He takes it on himself to pull the zipper of his jeans down, but he doesn’t dare to do any more than that. He wants you to do it yourself. He wants to see your hands, that are so small in comparison to his own, doing everything he tells them to.  Bucky’s eyes fixate on the skin of your neck, and though he has a plan in mind that doesn’t involve his mouth on you, he can’t help it. In an instant, his flesh hand tangles in the hair that you’ve just tied back and he’s pulling you closer. Every soft drag of his lips against your skin sends more and more heat straight to your core. His tongue darts out from between his lips and wets your skin before he dares to let his teeth join the equation. The first mark he leaves on you draws a sharp gasp from you. The second mark earns him an irresistible whimper. But the third? With the third mark to your neck, you moan his fucking name.
            When Bucky lets go of his grip on your hair and moves his seat away from the steering wheel just a moment after the first moan that he heard fall from your lips, you both know you’ve reached a place of no return. When you tug his jeans down a little further and slide one hand into the front of his boxers, something in the air snaps. Your hand wraps around his length, barely able to contain the entirety of his girth, and his head falls back against the headrest of his seat.
            “Shit.”  The hushed profanity tumbles past his lips as if he didn’t even mean to let it out. Without freeing him from the confines of his boxers, you give his length one stroke. Fuck. He’s big. He’s so big that you think you might’ve underestimated just how easy it would be for him to show you what it’s like to not be able to breathe. You stroke him from base to tip again and feel his precum gathering against your palm. When you do it a third time, his head snaps forward and you feel his hand in your hair again, tugging your head back so you’re forced to look him in the eye. “I can’t fucking stand you.” He says pointedly as your hand continues to move at a torturously slow pace along his shaft. You circle your thumb around the head of his cock and feel him shudder in his seat.
            “I can’t fucking stand you either.”
            “Then why the hell is your hand on my cock?” He taunts as his stare pierces somewhere deep within you. You say nothing in response, but you stroke his length from base to tip again, slower this time. “You can’t stand me but you’re going to suck my dick, aren’t you?”
            Bucky notices the way your grip around him falters, the way you squeeze him a little tighter before your hand slightly loosens around his shaft. He can fucking smell your arousal soaking into your panties. He’s a pleasantly surprised when you decide to take initiative and tug the waistband of his boxers down enough to free his cock. It springs up against his lower stomach and you watch in awe as he pulls his shirt up enough to showcase his toned abs and keep precum from wetting the fabric.
            “Oh my god.” You breathe the words out slowly as your eyes take in the reality before you. Just like you thought, he’s big. You could tell when you had your hand on it, but seeing it right in front of you? Even in the dim light of the supermarket parking lot, you can tell you might be in over your head. While you’re thinking you might be in over your head, Bucky’s thinking about how he’s going to enjoy holding your head down.
---
            “That’s it, take another deep breath for me.” Bucky says, smoothing back your hair as he memorizes every single inch of your flushed face. You wet your bottom lip with your tongue and maintain eye contact with him as you do just that. You inhale a deep, steady breath just as he guides your head down again. His thick cock slides between your parted lips, glides over your tongue, and nudges against the back of your throat for the third time. “Fuck, just like that.” You still have a couple of inches left to take but you resist, your eyes fluttering closed as you gag around his length. Who would’ve thought choking on Bucky Barnes’ dick would be so fucking pleasurable? “All of it.” Bucky says lowly, pushing your head down enough to make you take the last two inches. He bottoms out in your mouth and a groan is ripped from his chest, making his shaft vibrate against your tongue. You moan around him and he suddenly curls his fingers into your hair and pulls you back. You’re ready for him to say something infuriating, something that’ll make you want to punch out his perfect teeth but deepthroat him all at the same time. It’s what he does best honestly.
            “If you keep pulling me back, we’re going to be here all night.” Even with the taste of his precum on your tongue and his hand fisted in your hair, you’re talking shit. Bucky studies you with a menacing gaze, his eyes traveling over the features of your face slowly as he chooses his words carefully.
            “I told you that I can’t fucking breathe when you do stupid shit, and you asked me to show you what that feels like.” He reminds you, narrowing his eyes. You nod in response. “Squeeze my thigh if you can’t handle it.” Before you’ve even processed the instructions, Bucky’s pushing your head down again and forcing his cock into your mouth. This time, he’s forceful and needy with it. He’s doing exactly what he said and showing you what it’s like to not be able to breathe.
            Up and down Bucky drags your head by his grip on your hair. Up and down along the length of his sizable cock, reveling in the feel of your tongue against his shaft and your throat tightening around whatever he gives it. Your lungs are burning. Your eyes are watering.
            “You feel that? That burning in your chest?” He asks, pushing your head down again and holding it still this time. “That’s how I feel every time you try to do shit on your own, every time you risk your life for no goddamn reason.” He holds you there for another second, until he feels a tear drip onto his upper thigh. When he lets you up for air this time, the look on his face is a mix of lustful and gentleness. He wipes your watering eyes with the pad of his thumb, admiring the fucked-out look on your face as you fight to catch your breath. “You take me so well.” Bucky coos. At this point you might as well not even be wearing any panties, because you can feel your wetness soaking through to your jeans.
            When you’ve just nearly caught your breath, Bucky gives you a small nod before guiding you down again, gentler this time.
            “Your head is spinning, isn’t it? The lack of oxygen makes it hard to think straight.” He’s right. All you can focus on is the wetness between your legs and the way the head of his cock keeps triggering your gag reflex in an unexpectedly enjoyable way. Does he know you’re enjoying this every bit as much as he is? Does he know that you’re wishing he’d done this to you when you were on your knees in that upstairs office earlier? As your head spins and the taste of his still-dripping precum lingers in your mouth, you imagine what it might’ve been like if those men had busted into the room when you were on your knees for the man with the vibranium arm. You squeeze your thighs together and surprise both yourself and Bucky when you nudge your head forward, letting your nose brush against his thigh as you take impossibly more of him into your throat. Bucky lets out a guttural groan and presses his head back into the headrest once more as he fights to maintain control over the situation. He’s just about to let you up for air when he hears a strangled whimper and then feels your body shaking over his lap. He’s quick to take his hand off of your head, thinking you’ve fully run out of breath, but you don’t sit up like he’s expecting. Instead, you start bobbing your head up and down, sucking his dick like it’s all you’ve ever wanted to do. “Shit, baby.” Baby? You’re deepthroating him of your own volition now, taking in as much of his length as you can and then backing off, doing that over and over again as he trembles in his seat. “You’re gonna make me cum if you don’t let up, shit.” He groans, cautiously letting his hand rest on the back of your head again.
            Bucky isn’t the one starved of oxygen and yet he finds himself unable to think straight. He doesn’t realize he’s tugging the tie out of your hair until it’s done. He doesn’t even realize he’s sliding your hair tie over his own wrist, his subconscious mind planning to keep it as a souvenir. What he does realize, is that you’re as close to your own orgasm as he is. It’s why he doesn’t think twice about sliding his flesh hand from your head, down your spine, and into the waistband of the back of your jeans. His touch doesn’t surprise you, but it spurs you on. His fingers dance over the wet fabric of your panties, testing the waters as you suck his dick with a newfound fervency. When he pushes the pointless fabric to the side and plunges a single finger into your cunt without warning, you take as much of his length into your mouth as you can and then you fucking swallow around him.
            “Fuck, you like sucking my dick, don’t you? Look at you swallowing my cock, taking all of it so easily.”
            Bucky adds a second finger to your dripping cunt, sliding them in to the hilt as you clench around him. When you moan around his cock, he can’t stand it anymore. He’s quick to pull his fingers out of you and grip your hair tightly, pulling you off of his cock. You take a deep breath, hating that he stopped you but thankful for the chance to breathe normally for a second.
            “When you moan like that…fuck. I almost—”
            “How am I supposed to swallow your cum if you keep fucking pulling me off?” You ask, your annoyance evident in your tone. Bucky’s eyes widen but his grip on your hair remains the same.
            “Is that what you want to do? Swallow my cum?”
            “Bucky…” You let his name roll off of your tongue in a whisper as you lean in close to his face and wrap one hand around his throbbing hard-on. “Let me swallow.”
---
            All Bucky can think about is the way you kissed him. The way you swallowed every drop of cum he spilled into your mouth and then sat up and pressed your lips to his, the way you dragged the tip of your tongue over his bottom lip before sinking back into the passenger seat has been burned in his brain for the last three days. For the last three fucking days.
            He stands with his back against the cool metal of the elevator wall, staring down at the black hair tie on his wrist. He hasn’t taken it off once, he can’t.
            You sit in front of your vanity, running your fingers over the fading marks on your neck. Is it wrong to wish he’d left you with some kind of permanent reminder of that night in the car? Is it wrong to hate that the marks he left will be gone soon?
---
            You were supposed to be meeting with Fury. You assumed that meant Fury alone, until you found yourself seated right across from Bucky Barnes. You’re two feet away from the man that had his fingers inside of you three days ago, two feet away from the man whose cum you swallowed like it was a cold drink of water on a hot summer’s day. You hadn’t expected to interact with him again after that night. You were benched, after all, your partnership indefinitely suspended with you being taken out of the field.
            When Fury walks in moments later, breaking the thick tension that was beginning to suffocate you both, what he says changes the dynamic entirely.
            Not only is he putting you back in the field, but he expects you and Bucky to spend a week undercover in the lowest place on Earth: Madripoor. A week together.
            When Fury leaves the two of you sitting in the conference room, the tension returns at full strength, swirling around the room and threatening to suck the air out of your lungs. It comes to a head when Bucky’s about to speak, about to say anything he can think of to break through the thick cloud in the atmosphere. He leans forward and rests his arms on the table, opening his mouth to say something, and that’s when you see it. Your hair tie from that night, wrapped around his wrist. His eyes follow the line of your gaze until you’re both looking at the seemingly insignificant piece of elastic.  
            But it isn’t insignificant.
            Bucky Barnes is wearing your hair tie on his wrist, and he has been for three days now.
            When your eyes meet again, that familiar warmth begins to build low in your stomach.
            Tie your hair back.
            He’d said it so authoritatively and you’d listened so willingly. Neither of you is aware that the other is thinking about the same thing.
            The next time Bucky wants your mouth around his cock, he’ll be tying your hair back himself.
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koolades-world · 2 days
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I have a request for an MC who's never been called beautiful or handsome before, so when they're complimented, they ask why and just start to cry. The brothers (plus Dia and Barbatos, if it's not too much to ask, of course) are shocked at their tears and find out that their human had never been complimented before this moment.
Sorry if it's too specific, I had this experience and I cried for way too long, I just want to know how the boys would react.
hi there! yes of course :)
no worries about the specifics and such. so glad someone called you stunning like you are. you and everyone readying this: YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL HANDSOME STUNNING GORGEOUS PRETTY!!!!! if nobody has told you that today, know that you are!! you deserve the world :)))
enjoy <3
Mc who cries after being called beautiful/handsome/stunning
Lucifer
right after you had finally taken your last RAD exam, you thought you looked like a mess and you vocalized that
he swooped into to disagree and called you handsome
he’s quick to comfort you when you start to cry because he’s not quite sure why
when he finds out it’s because he called you handsome, he dabs always your tears and makes a mental note to call you good looking more often
Mammon
he called you it kind of in the heat of the moment
but that he didn’t mean it, but he was just so excited! you’d just helped him win a huge bet and made him loads of grim so it slipped out in a long string of compliments
he slows down once he sees you crying, and wipes your tears
he tells you he’d call you beautiful over and over again if you wanted because he really did think you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen
Levi
he really worked himself up to compliment you like this
after all, as a chronic overthinker, he sat for while thinking about the implications and how you might react
once he finally said it after almost chickening out, he totally freaked out after you burst out into tears
the following ten minutes were chaotic to say the least, but in the end he knew it was out of joy
Satan
omg I can literally see him reciting the iconic lines to you from Romeo and Juliet
this man is so extra in subtle ways
you’re gorgeous and he wants to you to know
by the time he’s at the end of his lines, you’re of course a blubbering mess but he’s there for you, ready to melt your heart all over again
Asmo
he often throws around that word comfortable
so, it's only natural he ends up calling you it once or twice
he didn't even realize the way you froze and started to tear up after
eventually he turns around and sees the silent tears rolling down your cheeks with a smile, and pulls you into a hug. he's gonna be calling you that a lot more from now on :)
Beel
he probably says it in passing after you called something or someone else pretty
something along the lines of “you’re pretty too” simple and to the point
he feels several moments of panic until you start to try to reassume him that they’re not bad tears
every time you call something else pretty or something along those lines, he thinks of that moment and says what he said back then with more purpose
Belphie
he for sure tells you while the two of you are our stargazing
out of the blue, he rolls over and tells you you remind him of the brightest, twinkling star and that you shine in the same, brilliant, beautiful way
without looking back at you, he returns to star gazing as you begin to silently sniff
he pulls you into his side, gently smiling and hugging you tight
Diavolo
after getting ready for a party and putting on the finished touches on your outfit, you turned to him to ask how you looked
after he told you you looked incredibly handsome, you couldn’t stop the waterworks from flowing
he’s very afraid at first he said something wrong but after you explain it’s just because you’ve never been called that before, his whole demeanor changes
he personally delivers handwritten notes to you daily during RAD that are just all the things he loves about you in them now <33
Barbatos
when he gives out a compliment, it’s very deliberate
he thinks very carefully about what he wants to say, not because he’s afraid he’ll say something wrong, but because he really wants it to mean something
when he called you and your work pretty along with a few other things, he wasn’t sure how to initially react to your tears
but eventually when you started to hug him, he hugged you back and comforted you. he has the little d’s make a routine or complimenting you too :)
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nervoussagittarius · 3 days
Text
i know it’s crazy but he’s the one i want
Tumblr media
matt sturniolo x reader
summary: part two of strike out. after months of being apart y/n realizes she wants nothing more then to be with matt, and matt realizes how much he fucked up. part one
warnings: angst to smut. oral (fem receiving), p in v, no protection, matchmakers nick and chris
they slammed the door on
my whole world
the one thing i wanted
your world felt like it was turned completely upside down the minute you locked your front door on matt.
you wanted to run after him. you wanted to forgive him for everything, but something in you was telling you to hold back, to stay strong. you weren’t even sure if you knew the matt that stood with you 10 minutes ago. after a month of no contact there’s so much that could’ve changed. you definitely had changed. one one thing that stayed the same though was that you still couldn’t go more the an hour without thinking of matthew sturniolo.
matt blew up your phone that whole night. it took everything in you not to drive over to his house. you were a mess and he didn’t need to see you like that. you were supposed to be strong. you were the one who told him to leave after all.
a few more days past before you got a couple texts and a call from chris. you hesitantly answered. you hated to admit it but you missed him and nick. you missed matt too but you weren’t ready to admit that one out loud yet. “hello?” you answered. there was a beat of silence before you heard a sigh of relief from the other line. “hey y/n it’s chris. listen, i know you haven’t wanted to talk to us, and i understand, but nick and i need your help.” he sounded so stressed that you couldn’t help but worry about the pair. he didn’t give you time to respond before he continued his thought. “i know you don’t want to be with matt anymore, but he hasn’t left his room in almost a week. nick and i completely understand why you did what you did. matt told us what happened.. but he locked himself in and we don’t know what to do.” you teared up at the thought of matt being alone. yeah he enjoyed being by himself sometimes, but never to this extent. you couldn’t help but feel guilt for the way things went down. at the end of the day you were both in the wrong, and you desperately wanted to make things right.
“please just come talk to him. come see him. we tried to wait as long as we could to call you but it’s time. we have your back but he’s still our brother, and we don’t want to see him like this. nick and i really miss you. matt misses you” you didn’t confirm or deny if you would really show up. you wanted to talk to him. as much as he hurt you he didn’t deserve to feel how you have felt for months. you knew how shitty it was. “i miss you guys too.” and with that you ended the call. you didn’t need to specify who you were referring too. chris knew that you meant all three of them, and he hoped that you would come help his brother.
no i’m not coming to my senses
i know it’s crazy but he’s
the one i want
it took you almost two hours to work up the courage to go to the triplets house. you got in and out of your car 3 different times before you convinced yourself to finally turn it on and start driving. the directions were muscle memory at this point. having spent the last two years driving the same streets at least once a day, you weren’t a stranger to the street signs and the traffic. although it was almost 1 in the morning you had no worries about if the boys were awake or not. they always were at this time.
you felt weird pulling into their driveway. a spot that was once reserved for you now felt like a curse. it felt like you’d end up with three slashed tires if you parked there so you opted for parking in the street two houses down. this way if you chickened out before you made it to the door they’d never know.
you didn’t though. you couldn’t because the minute you stepped foot onto their doorstep nick threw open the door. no words were exchanged between the two of you. he instantly pulled you into a hug. you both needed it after the month and a half you just had. “i’m so glad you’re here” all you could do is hold him tighter in response. tears filled your eyes as chris made his way down the front steps to you both. he took his turn pulling you into a hug as well. when you broke apart he ran a soothing hand up and down your arm and let you walk to the living room.
the three of you sat on the couch together and you pulled your legs up into you. single tears streamed down your face every once and a while as you waited for someone to talk. “he doesn’t know you’re here,” nick started. “we didn’t want to tell him and freak him out.” “oh so he’s not allowed to be freaked out so i have to be. got it” you regretted it as soon as you got the sentence out. “sorry. fuck i’m sorry guys. i really just- i don’t know what i’m doing here.” you ran a hand through your hair nervously.
“it’s okay y/n/n we get it. we really just think you guys should talk.” chris said patting your knee. “yeah, we don’t want to pressure you but we think it will help both of you get some closure. so you sit here. we’re going to go out for a little bit, give you some space. if you decide you want to leave then please do so, but we won’t be upset if you’re here when we get back.” they gave you soft smiles as they made their way out of the house leaving you with your thoughts.
once you got the tears to stop, you knew that if you didn’t get off the couch now you would never make it to matt’s room. you were hesitant to knock. you didn’t hear anything in the otherside of the door. you were almost hoping he was asleep so you could go home and forget this ever happened.
as you began to raise your hand the door slowly opened. matt’s head was hung low looking at his phone. your lips parted slightly in shock. he quickly looked up when he noticed someone was standing there. “i- sorr- i um- i have to go.” you barely got out. as you tried turning so you could walk in the other room. “y/n?” matt was in shock and confused. you were the last person he expected to see. he just wanted to run over and hug you, but he kept his restraint. you rushed over to the couch looking for your keys. “i’m sorry i shouldn’t have come. chris and nick called me and i was worried about you but i really shouldn’t be here.” when you got nervous you just talked fast. your mouth couldn’t keep up with all the thoughts running through your head.
matt hadn’t moved from his doorway. he was frozen watching you pace the living room. when he finally came to his senses he spoke up to stop you. “wait please stop. please. i want to talk to you.” matt rushed over to you and grabbed your hand trying to get you to look at him. he fully expected you to pull away, but his confidence slightly boosted when you didn’t.
“please.” he repeated. “please come sit with me.” his words were soft and nervous. you nodded looking up at him. he walked you over to his room hand in hand. matt gestured for you to sit in his bed as he sat across from you. you decided to talk first. you just wanted to know he was okay. “um. your brothers asked me to come talk to you. they said you hadn’t left your room, and i know i shouldn’t be, because of the way we ended things, but i was really worried about you, matt. i don’t want you to be upset. i know i was really mean and i’m so sorry-” “no. please do not apologize.” he reached over to hold your hands. “i deserved everything you said to me. you were right. please look at me, sweetheart. i have been a mess because i feel so shitty about the way i treated you. and i couldn’t look at chris and nick because they lost you too. i feel so fucking bad.”
“i know you do, baby. i want to forgive you i really do, but i can’t go back to the way things were.” both of you had tears running down your faces. you just wanted to hold each other and forget everything. “i promise i can be better. i promise that i can do better. you deserve better then i’ve ever treated you and i will work my ass off everyday to prove that to you.” you moved closer to matt as you held his face and used the pads of your thumbs to wipe his tears. you leaned your forehead against his as you sat there debating what to say. “i know you will, matt. i believe you.” “do you really?” he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. he wanted nothing more then to kiss you but he couldn’t push your boundaries. “i do, baby. i’m so in love with you. i don’t know how i’ve spent this long without you.” you said slightly leaning in to matt.
both of you flicked your eyes between your lips and back to each others eyes. “i love you too.” matt said. “can i please kiss you?” he asked nervously. you guys had kissed millions of times before but something was different this time. you guys felt closer. “please, matt. you can do anything to me.” and with that your lips instantly connected. you two melted into eachother as the kiss deepened. he quickly swiped his tongue against your bottom lip asking for entrance which you accepted. “let me show you how sorry i am?” “please.”
he was chaos, he was revelry
bedroom eyes look like a remedy
matt gently pushed your back down onto his mattress. he took his lips off of yours as he pecked his way down your neck. your hands traveled down his chest as you pulled on the edge of his shirt. he took notice to this and hastily removed the piec rod fabric. he sent you pleading eyes as you nodded at him to take yours off as well. he took your bra off with it and trailed his hand down your arm to intertwine your fingers. your unoccupied hand went to matt’s hair as he placced soft kissed to your boobs. he’s movements become desperate as he attached his lips to my nipple as he gently sucked.
soft pants came out of your mouth as you pushed matt’s head lower towards where you were craving him most. he tilted his head up at you with a smug grin. “yeah baby, is that what you want?” he smirked at you as he shimmied your legs out of your pants and threw them to the corner of his room. he traveled down lower as he started to spread your legs letting him lay between them. he breath met your clit and he turned his head to bite the inside of your thigh.
“tell me what you need, sweetheart” “you, matt. i need you to touch me.” you rushed out. you needed to be close to him. you just wanted to feel him. matt pulled your underwear to the side and ran a finger through your slit. his cold hands tips sent goose bumps through your body. you swallowed thickly as he sent one quick lick to your core. he looked at you for a reaction only to get a nod of encouragement from you.
matt hummed while he wrapped one hand around your thigh spreading you farther apart for him. he slowly leaned into you dipping is tongue deeper into your wet folds. matt could feel the blood rushing to his cock due to your small pants and moans. the tight grip on his hair only encouraged him to keep going. you let out a small scream as he slowly began to enter his fingers into you. “fuck matt just like that.” you said as his middle and ring fingers curled up hitting that spongy spot. matt hummed into your cunt as he violently licked your clit.
neither of you had touched yourselves or anyone else in over a month. the pent up frustration made things go a lot faster then either of you expected. matt began rutting his hips softly into his mattress trying to relieve the tension he was feeling. you clenched around his fingers signally your close orgasm. matt’s head came up as his fingers still thrusted into you. “that feel good, baby. you gonna cum for me. come on, sweetheart. cum for me.” matt didn’t let up as your moans got louder if anything it made him to go in with more force. your orgasm came fast and hard. matt continued sucking as you came down from your high. you panted as matt slowly pulled his fingers out of you.
you started to sit up you you could return the favor only to be pushed back down as matt met you in a kiss. “no baby. tonight’s about you. i just want to make you feel good. i want to show you how sorry i am.” you looked at him with puppy dog eyes. “you do make me feel good matt. just let me return the favor.” you were quickly cut off by the sound of matt’s pants being pulled down. he shock his head at you to deny your request and your hand found the waistband of his boxers as you began to pull his cock out.
he was hard and somehow looked bigger then you remembered. matt’s head fell forward when you started stroking him. his arm that he was using to hold himself up almost giving out at the sensation. you ran his cock through your folds wetting him from you arousal and his precum. he took control as he slid into you, giving you a second to adjust, and then bottoming out at the sign of your approval.
you both let out signs as matt started thrusting into you. he ran his hand up and down your side and placed long kisses on your neck. certain to leave at least one hickey. matt was fully immersed in you. “matt please don’t stop. faster..fuck.” matt had every intention on taking his time with you tonight, to really show you how he feels, but he couldn’t turn down the opportunity. “fuck baby.” matt said speeding up. “faster? you want me to fuck you faster hm? tell me how good i’m making you feel baby.” matt kept up his pace as your hands found his back. your nails scratched down his skin leaving red marks in their trail. you threw your head back in pleasure when matt began rubbing your clit in figure eight motions. your noises only got louder but you were so fucked out that matt laughed when you couldn’t form a sentence. “you got it baby. you’re doing to good for me.” matt’s hips slammed into you surely leaving bruises. “tell me how good i’m making you feel. use your words.”
with one hand on your clit and the other brushing hair off of your forehead, matt soon approached his first orgasm of the night. you gasped and tried to catch your breath to say coherent words. “shit- i- god you’re doing so good, mmh. you feel so good. don’t stop. gonna cum.” you quickly reached your second orgasm. “yeah, you gonna cum,” matt taunted as his motions became sloppy. “good girl, cum with me, y/n.”
both of your orgasms built rapidly and didn’t disappoint. your head flew back in pleasure as matt lowly groaned and let out a small whimper. he rode out both of your orgasms and you reached out to out your head in this chest as you became overstimulated. matt slowly pulled out and fell down beside you as he leaned for his shirt to clean you up. “i love you.” you said as you rolled over to place your head in his chest. “i love you most.” he replied giving a kiss to the top of your head.
thinking it can change the
beat of my heart when he touches me
and counteract the chemistry
and undo the destiny
matt and you layed in a comfortable silence as you held each other. no one could ruin this moment for you two. you saw the comments over the months that you had ruined matt or that you’re a whore and you didn’t deserve him. no one knew the real truth. matt and you were made for each other. you didn’t believe in soulmates until matt came around.
you were still in matt’s bed when nick and chris got home that night. sound asleep you two basked in the presence of eachother. matt’s two brothers saw his bedroom door slightly ajar, they made their way over to see what was going on.
with no comment they smiled at each other noticing your states. they were happy to have their favorite couple back.
you ain’t gotta pray for me
me and my wild boy
and all this wild joy
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kitchenisking · 21 hours
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Day 4
Seires Fic Rec part 14
Queer Your Coffee by alisvolatpropiis - (Queer Your Coffee) - (Rating: Not Rated, Words: 3,084, sterek)
Derek's just over the city line when he sees a sign for an independent drive-thru place, Full Spectrum Brew. There are three cars in line when he turns in, which annoys him but gives him hope. Not that he really trusts the people of Beacon Hills to have much taste when it comes to coffee (god, he is a snob), but the shop’s popularity does seem to bode well. The line of cars moves way more slowly than he’d like, each customer in front of him seeming to take way too long to order, and then lingering when they get their coffee. He’s irritable from lack of sleep and an even more detrimental lack of caffeine, anxious to get out of the car. Finally it’s his turn and he slowly rolls up to the window, turning the radio down.
For a second, he thinks he must have fallen asleep while he was waiting, because what he sees when he looks in the window surely must be a dream.
Stunning brown eyes like glowing honey and sweet little nose, slightly upturned; a shapely pink mouth, bottom-lip pierced by a thin black hoop that he's worrying with the tip of his tongue as he smiles a gorgeous hello.
He's the most beautiful man Derek's ever seen.
And he’s shirtless.
It's a Beautiful Night by khasael - (Hale and Hearty) - (Rating: T, Words: 2,887, sterek)
Just because they're all almost used to fighting against the Creature of the Week and assorted other Bad Guys, doesn't mean it doesn't get Stiles's heart rate going.
Dream a Little Dream by Yoiko - (A Little Dream of Me ) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 1,101, sterek)
“There’s something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time. And since this is my dream you’re going to let me do it.”
All things share the same breath - the beast, the tree, the man. by devilscut - (There are nights when the wolves are silent and the moon howls.) - (Rating: Mature, Words: 11,687, sterek)
A shell-shocked Stiles regroups with the pack to find his father who has been kidnapped by the Darach. Their search leads them to the Nematon, where their confrontation with the Darach reveals her plans and that there is more to being a True Alpha than they know. Derek and his family's legacy is at the heart of her schemes and when the Darach has him under her control Stiles begins to realise the extent of how much he really cares for the sourwolf. In true Scooby-doo fashion, the villain has told them of her plans but more shockingly to Stiles she also reveals a very important aspect of his and Derek's relationship.
The virtue of patience by nofeartina - (Patience) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 11,827, sterek)
Stiles isn't afraid of admitting his feelings to Derek, but that doesn't mean that Derek wants to hear it. 
Or the one where Stiles knows that all good things come to those who wait.
I Feel Like You Can't Feel the Way I Feel by i_might_be_in_over_my_head - ( Einherjar MC ) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 14,087, sterek)
“Fuckin A, dude! The last time you gave me that look I ended up in the woods in the middle of the night, lost my inhaler, and almost died. Please tell me why you’re always trying to get me killed?” Scott shook his head resigned. He knew Stiles was going in and nothing he could say would change that. “If we wake up dead tomorrow just remember this was your idea.”
Stiles threw his fist in the air enthusiastically, almost punching Scott in the face, and turned to the door. He knew if he didn’t go quick Scott would probably change his mind and he’d have to start all over. “Dude that was sophomore year of high school, let it go! Plus dead body! We had to go. We’ll just have a drink and check it out. It’ll be fun!”
fingertips have memories by thatworldinverted - (let's talk about sex ) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 1,800, sterek)
Pochemuchka (Russian), noun: a person who asks a lot of questions. 
"I saw the way you watched me, when I was home last month. How long have you been dreaming about getting me on my knees?"
seems to me it's chemistry by HalfFizzbin - (covalent bonds) - (Rating: T, Words: 4,153, sterek)
Awkward Nerd Derek has been crushing on Handsome Jock Stiles since forever—so getting paired with him on a Chemistry project is definitely the best/worst thing that's ever happened to him.
These next two fics go hand in hand. 😇
The One with All the Kids by Itsreallyjustforresearch83 - (Rating: G, Words: 6,527, sterek)
Derek didn't know what he did to deserve to have this again. A house full of people, of family. He's going to be forever grateful to that rouge witch for what she did for him and Stiles, because after all the hurt they went through together, many years later, they're standing in the Pack house, in their house, surrounded by their family.
A New Hale by Itsreallyjustforresearch83 - (Rating: G, Words: 4,543, sterek)
The Pack meets the werewolf cub that Stiles and Derek gets placed with them on Christmas.
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houseofpendragons · 20 hours
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New Ideas for HOTD Fashion pt.4
This one’s a little different, considering we’re also going to include Alicent in this little change of costumes 😊
So exhibit A:
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The Blue Dress and the Gold. How many times have we seen those now??? Time for a little change. Not only are these the outfits they were when Rhaenyra calls Alicent a WHORE💀 but it’s also the scene where it is revealed that Alicent will be betrothed to Viserys…not long after their appropriate period of grieving had ended.
I feel like Rhaenyra is not entirely out of her grieving period (bc why should she be) and it might be reflected in her clothes with darker tones. Now I don’t imagine her in complete darkness but with some gold peaking through around the sleeves and the neckline, not the complete gold that she wore in the beginning when she was but an innocent child but enough to show a start of an internal struggle. The bits of red could also be a show of her start into maturity and her beginning to take her role as heir more seriously. By having just small amounts of the gold and red that almost seems overshadowed by the seemingly Targaryen black could be a symbol of her standing on the line between her innocence and her duty, being tugged this way and that by her grief. Bc make no mistake she is still in grief, now not only for her mother but in the scene she begins to grieve the loss of Alicent as well. Now Alicent may not be dead but what Rhaenyra deems as her BEST FRIENDS betrayal is far worse than death in her eyes.
As for Alicent she is bordering on (forced) maturity. She’s been subtly flirting and playing the game of courtship, she’s been wearing more of her mothers dresses, but at the end of the day she’s just a little girl and she’s sad as hell and anxious and distraught in both scenes. That could be reflected in many ways, perhaps by her wearing another one of her mother’s dresses but perhaps one of a lighter color as Alicent clings to her innocence that is being stolen away. Green embroidery or a dark velvet green border as a symbol of marriage and motherhood creeping in at the seems to swallow her whole :
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These dresses are exactly what I in-vision, the subtle symbolism you can find or weave into these dresses for the moment they are worn speaks volumes. When I see a costume I want it to reflect a character and what they’re going through, their personality, bc a lot of people express themselves through their clothes.
The jewelry would obviously have to change a bit, Rhaenyra was currently not wearing the necklace Daemon had gifted her after he stole Baelon’s egg, and Alicent needs a necklace as well.
For Rhaenyra’s necklace I would make it a combination of these two:
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I like the gold as it matches her earrings, as does the rubies, but I also like the symbolism that could be created by adding the diamond as the final hanging gem. A diamond that reflects as it catches the light. Like tears shed and unshed that had and will soon fall down her cheeks.
And with Alicent, I’d expect the same symbolism. Blue fading to green, innocence fading to maturity, a candle turning into a blaze, a Lady becoming a Queen:
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(And her earrings could be much the same, with one being a blue and one being a green)
And lastly the hairrr👩‍🦳
For Rhaenyra I imagine something like this:
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Nothing too out there, but beautiful and fitting. It would keep it out of her face whilst still holding the beauty of the Targaryen braid and letting her hair flow down straight and free. Combination of kept and free. Rhaenyra has freedom, in her cage.
Alicent was a little more tricky bc I wanted something that was simple, not too regal yet, and still more of her usual style that we saw in her younger years. I stumbled on this:
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I like the braided crown, a symbol of the future crown that will come to rest on her head as Queen. I also love that Helaena wears this in her hair, and I like that maybe she stole it from her mother bc she remembers her wearing her hair like that when she was younger. And whilst we have seen Alicent with a braided crown before, this one was more prominent and pulled more forward like an actual crown.
Alright that’s all I’ve got for the outfits in that real and deleted scene between Alicent and Rhaenyra. I’m sure I’ll find more I’d like to see a little differently. I know it won’t change the costumes but hey it’ll give me a little something more to picture in my mind
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nesiacha · 3 hours
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I already talk about horrible movie about the frev. Today I will make a critic about the bad points about a good movie with a very good historical accuracy that I really like but it’s also important to criticize good historical films even if we liked them as a whole (I must say that I liked them personally and I continue to do so) . Firstly, even if it may not have been the intention, because it was not the theme of the show as the writers had planned several themes with the people, including the Night of Varennes, I didn't like that the politicians were seen prominently while the people were too much in the background (minor criticism because the show was discontinued after the success of 'La Terreur et la Vertu,' so maybe they intended to do it later).
Next, the women of the French Revolution are too sidelined, and Lucile Desmoulins is portrayed more as simply worried for Camille Desmoulins without showing Lucile's political side, which accentuates the sexism. Camille Desmoulins is depicted as more naive than he actually was, in my opinion, perhaps to absolve or infantilize him, I don't know.
I would have liked it if we briefly mentioned the retaking of Lyon by Couthon, even just in passing. We have 4 representatives of the indulgent faction (Fabre d'Eglantine, Danton, Camille Desmoulins, and Philppeaux) compared to only 2 on the Hebertist side (Hébert and Chaumette). We only mention Vincent, Ronsin, and Momoro briefly, but I would have liked them to have the same amount of screen time. We should also see their trials and the fact that they were going to the guillotine instead of that, the topic is quickly dismissed.
Moreover, although Castelot and Decaux had a very good debate that I invite everyone to watch, there's something that bothers me. It is said that the CSP (Committee of Public Safety) is at fault for parodying justice against the indulgent, but as usual, we forget the parody done to the Hebertists and also forget that done to the Enragés like Jacques Roux when the CSP, the CSG (Committee of General Security), and the Convention relentlessly attacked him illegally to the point where he committed suicide. Double standard once again, and the parody of justice is justified a bit too much for my taste (which also executed many innocents like Lucile Desmoulins, Marie Françoise Goupil, even Chaumette who had, however, refused the insurrection of Hébert, Gobel, etc)...
Then to say that Barère is acting in good faith from Decaux's point of view? No seriously, I don't buy Barère's whitewashing, he's generally a weathervane (the only time the show mentions it from this side is when Danton says that Barère is for the tipping scale).
Another point is that I found Robespierre a bit too naive at times. In real life, he knows that deep down Danton is a dubious character, but he thinks that the Hebertist wave is more dangerous. It's a political calculation until he realizes that he underestimated the indulgent movement and will opt for a middle policy. There he is almost surprised by some of Danton's movements.
Finally, the end of 'La Terreur et la Vertu' is not bad and very emotionnal; there is an explanation that Saint Just did not move during the insurrection. But personally, I think that our five deputies certainly had scruples regarding the legality of the Convention, as has been said repeatedly, but they mainly hesitated because of it. If they were 100% against not moving against the Convention due to legality, they would have said so. My theory is that they felt exhausted and confused because 17 out of 49 sections had risen, which was a significant number but not enough to justify an uprising, not to mention they were at least somewhat legalistic.
Finally, I would have liked an explanation of why Hanriot was so loyal to Robespierre (we know this if we research the character a little, but a line or two of mention wouldn't have cost much), but I'm glad he wasn't demonized. Far from me the idea of wanting to put this excellent film on trial, but as I said earlier, it is also necessary to see the negative aspects of this film to have a better improvement of the content (although today it regresses even more).
I would have liked it if we also briefly saw Tinville refuse to prosecute Fleuriot Lescot; it would have added a little more humanity to his character (although I don't like Tinville at all, I find that he is always too caricatured to be believable. Fortunately, the TV movie shows his "human" side, but not enough).
The only problem is that I have the impression that they are telling the false message that the execution of Robespierre and his colleagues marks the end of the social revolution when in reality the coup de grace was not done for me. that with the execution of Romme and his friends (the episode of the execution of the Hébertists, Cordeliers, indulgents and of Robespierre and his colleagues was above all only a continuation of weakening between 'internal struggle') and the end of the frev was only after Bonaparte coup d'etat . After seeing that the show was suddenly stopped, perhaps the writers intended to rectify it.
A small gratuitous jab nonetheless from a line in a TV movie: Barras: You will take Robespierre and Saint Just.
Me: Wow, and does Couthon count for nothing, I guess? The poor has just been royally ignored."
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drunkenskunk · 13 hours
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Welcome to another Drunk Skunk™ rant!
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So.
I've had some time to sit and stew on the Fallout show, and I think I've finally figured out exactly what I want to say. Because kids? I got Opinions™ about this fucking series. I sincerely wish I didn't have all these Opinions™, because that would almost certainly cause me significantly less stress.
But here we are.
The Fallout show annoys me, but not for the reasons you think.
Let's get the good out of the way first. And by "good" I mean "damning with faint praise."
The Fallout show, as a piece of entertainment and experienced in a vacuum with no prior knowledge or context of the rest of the series or any of the other video games, is... fine. It's an entertaining television show. It's not great, but it's not terrible. It's okay.
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The best part of the show is, unquestionably, Walton Goggins. Which is probably the coldest take here, everyone agrees that he's fantastic in this. And it's true! Granted, he doesn't look nearly as gnarly as he should, as the makeup is really giving Ryan Reynolds Deadpool Hugo Weaving Red Skull vibes, but I can honestly give that a pass. He steals every single scene he's in. He has all the best lines. Plus, all the pre-war flashbacks with him are excellent. That first scene when the bombs drop is fucking harrowing.
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SPEAKING OF THE BOMBS!
The big reveal that Vault Tec were the ones to kickstart the apocalypse. My initial gut reaction to that was... Not Great. I didn't like it. In fact, I kinda hated it. I thought it was an answer to a question that nobody asked, because nobody cared, because it was never supposed to matter who shot first. The original point was that the end of the world was the inevitable outcome after so many years of war, so many years of stockpiling nuclear weapons, and so many bad decisions from everyone in positions of power on all sides of the conflict.
But the more I think about Vault Tec being the ones to destroy the world... I dunno, the more I... kinda like it? In a fashion. Sort of. As you can see by the remaining length of this fucking rant, I have Complicated Feelings about this!
See, Fallout has never exactly been subtle with its themes, but the show drops all pretense, and openly embraces a staunchly (and honestly, extremely surprising) anti-capitalist narrative.
The Fallout show pulls a Garth Marenghi unironically, and it honestly... kinda works?
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Vault Tec were the ones to drop the bombs because they wanted to recreate the world in their image of a capitalist "paradise" free of any and all government regulation. The inevitable end result of the "great game" of capitalism is the literal end of the world, and the capitalists will do everything they can to destroy any attempts to rebuild any civilization not explicitly under their direct control. Because that's what capitalists do: they pursue an ultimately self-destructive goal that is not, and never was, sustainable, and will destroy everything else in their pursuit of endless, infinite, exponential growth, forever. Nothing else matters except Make Number Line Go Up.
Side note: it is extremely funny to me that Bethesda - a hollow shell of greed and excess who have been releasing the same game with different wallpapers over and over again since Oblivion - and Amazon - which is fucking Amazon - bankrolled a show where the villains are greedy capitalists who explicitly destroyed the world because of fiduciary duty to the shareholders. Like... guys, you do realize you two are Vault Tec in this scenario, right?
Ah well. That's capitalist realism for ya.
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Anyway, the more I think about it, the more sense it makes that Vault Tec were the ones to drop the bombs.
HOWEVER.
Maybe this is just me being a cynical, drunken asshole here, but... it feels like this was a decision that was made, not because it was the best way to take the narrative, but instead as a means of enforcing the Status Quo of Bethesda Fallout.
See, the thing I liked about the west coast Fallout games was that it showed a world ravaged by the apocalypse, but it also showed that world beginning to heal. 200 years after The End, and civilization was returning. It was a natural evolution of things, emphasizing the post part of "post-apocalypse." It showed us a world that really sucked a lot of the time... but also gave us a small sliver of hope that, no matter what nightmares existed after The End, things could - and would - get better, so long as we put in the work to make it better. It was a world that showed us that nothing was ever so broken that it couldn't be repaired. We just had to fucking EARN that happy ending.
Bethesda Fallout, on the other hand, is just Wacky Wasteland Adventure Time. They are not interested in showing a world evolving or changing or growing, they just want a blasted hellscape that looks like it was freshly nuked yesterday. Why? Because that's the surface-level Aesthetic of Fallout. That is what is recognizable. And Aesthetic is all they know how to do. That's the mother fucking Brand.
Doing something different would risk changing the Brand, and if that kind of change happens, then it's no longer easily marketable. So they just keep with what's familiar: freshly irradiated hellscapes, caps as currency, makeshift weapons, psychotic raiders with no purpose or goals beyond Fuck You, and more of the fucking Brotherhood of Steel. It's all the stuff we remember, so we can point at the screen and go "I recognize that!" instead of allowing the setting to evolve and creating something new.
And that's what annoys me the most. Because even though Vault Tec destroying the world in 2077 makes a certain amount of sense, it also feels like it only exists as a means of artificially enforcing the status quo of the setting. Which means that nothing will ever matter in Fallout ever again. It doesn't matter what happens, or what changes in the future, or who wins the next ideological conflict between the same factions that keep reappearing over and over again like radroaches. Because whenever something strays too far from the established setting, Vault Tec (or, more accurately, Bethesda) is just going to nuke it again, like what happened to Shady Sands.
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And, y'know, Shady Sands getting nuked like that really does rankle. Not because I ever had any attachment to the NCR, but because destroying it in the way that they did just felt so fucking lazy. If they wanted to get rid of the NCR, there were easily half a dozen other things they could've done that would've made far more sense. The NCR was a fantastically corrupt government, making the same mistakes as the same governments that (up until the show) were responsible for destroying the world. California was running out of food and clean drinking water because of gross negligence and mismanagement, public unrest was high because of excessive taxation and the "stop tolls" of corrupt border guards shaking down people, and both the military and bureaucracy of the NCR was spread fucking paper-thin, due to their policies of violent imperialist expansionism trying to take far more territory than they could reasonably hold, far more quickly than they could ever manage.
And did any of that matter? No. Not at all. Pursuing any of those plot threads would've required the writers to actually come up with some new ideas. So, instead, it was destroyed because of a cryogenically frozen Vault Tec middle manager with family problems. It was such a fucking lazy solution to a problem that should never have existed in the first place. It felt like the Fallout equivalent of "Somehow, Palpatine has returned."
That's why this show annoys me so much. Because this show that exists without subtlety or subtext, is telling us, to our face:
Don't hope for a better future, because it will never come. The world of Fallout is a destroyed, irradiated hellscape, entirely devoid of hope, and it will never, ever change, ever again.
Because that's the Fallout Brand, and that's what fucking sells.
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chirpsythismorning · 7 months
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In s5 when Mike and Will are having their big final boss argument and Will says, Just forget it, Mike! It’s not your fault, okay!?!!
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catzy88 · 1 year
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i'm just saying, if this vgk vs. edm playoffs and the second draft pick beating the first draft pick doesn't revive the mceichel fandom (at least momentarily), we're beyond salvation 😭
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britneyshakespeare · 20 days
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throughout the series of drake and josh it pretty consistently implies that josh nichols is a christian (josh peck is jewish) and in the finale of the series helen (played by yvette nicole brown, not jewish[?]) is portrayed as a practicing jew
#i dont have a problem w either of those things necessarily i just find it interesting#if i had to guess. drake and josh was a mainstream that didnt wanna touch on religion generally#but josh was kind of a dork and usually when josh's religious beliefs are implied it is in dorkish ways#such as praying and thanking the lord after he has his first kiss.#but since dan schneider is jewish perhaps he wanted to make helen have a jewish wedding in the finale?#not that there needs to be a reason. but u do notice occasional jewish-related jokes in d&j but none of them are what you could call#offensive. in good faith that is. 'eric is a pacifist' 'i thought he was jewish?' like come on#text post#i have been rewatching drake and josh recently and i have had so many thoughts#im almost done. i just have left that stupid dance episode that they premiered last for the stupid reason#of a special dance-themed premiere night in fall 2007. they premiered the third episode of icarly and a new zoey 101 on the same night#which i think is so stupid. they should've aired really big shrimp last. it messed w my understanding of the series at the time lol#i remember not really knowing that the show was ENDING. like i knew icarly was starting & miranda was doing that#i thought really big shrimp was like just another special like go hollywood.#and then like two days later they premiered the helicopter episode for some reason#and i was like why is drake not famous in this. he just had a number 1 song in a superbowl commercial#and then a month later the dance one. which. if anything is satisfying about that as a final episode it's just that#that unnamed girl from the blues brothers episode who is obsessed w drake shows up again and congratulates them#and the very final line of the series is 'who is she?' because. because really who IS she?#that's a funny enough throwback to wrap things up with i suppose#drake and josh wasn't a highly serialized show so i can see how they could air those after the intended finale and act like it didn't matte#but i have to tell you it did fuck with my brain a bit at the time. lol. i still think of those episodes as having 'happened' after#and on paramount plus those episodes are still placed after really big shrimp. the injustice#but thats kinda messy. what a weird way to end such an influential and popular sitcom#season 4 had a few lowpoints while still also having some VERY solid episodes.#idk. ill have to continue my series review another time im getting way too longwinded here#helen dubois is jewish
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*collapses on the floor and starts having visions (new fic ideas)*
#godsrambles#godsficideas#tags essay#the idea is: in his early portal travel days. ford thinks he has discovered a way to quickly and easily confront and kill bill#it sounds almost too good to be true. but he has to try.#the random alien stranger/s who sold him this 'opportunity' for a high price are like 'ok. setting up the death ray now. brb'#'meanwhile a portal to bills dimension will start opening up. its safe youll be fine.'#so ford is sitting in this tiny storage room place with an alleged portal to the nightmare realm slowly opening up before his eyes.#and bill is on the other side of the so-called 'portal.' he can look right back at ford. fords like 'hmm i hate this actually im going'#turns out the door is locked. fords first thought is 'uh oh they sold me out to bill it was all a trick'. but bill is unable to reach him.#it isnt even a portal. its just a glorified interdimensional video call. they locked the door to give them enough time to run off#before ford realized the scam. so bill laughs at him for a min. and then they have a conversation. ford finally asks 'Why??'#'why would you ruin my life??'. and bill kinda. obliges him just this once. drops his cheerful annoying act just this once.#and answers him plainly and honestly 'I didnt. i didnt try to ruin your life. it never even crossed my mind how your life could be affected#'it was all a means to an end. i wasnt ever out to get you. you never factored in at all beyond your use for making the portal.'#'i never even thought about you when we werent interacting. not even once. you think i had some big evil scheme that youre at the center of#'youre insignificant to me. all that happened was: you fell for a scam.'#'will the guys who locked you in here ever think about you again? theyve probably forgotten your face and name already.'#'im not out to get you. i just want my job finished. the same way those guys just wanted their money.'#the bottom line of the convo being: bill really *doesnt* give a single fuck. and ford never mattered to him.#not even enough for him to *think* about ford every now and then.#fords holding a grudge against a guy who barely even remembers him.#obviously this goes against my interpretation of canon but it would still be fun to write#au where bill Truly doesnt care about ford in any way and isnt even interested by him at all#the inspiration for this was just the concept of: how crushing the realization would be for ford#the horror of realizing exactly how insignificant you are in the eyes of the eldritch being that ruined your life#i am willing to write something that feels ooc for bill when it is for angst purposes lmao#indifferent-eldritch-being bill is such an angsty concept. very fun to explore#an ao3 fic called 'the bolt that busted off the lever' (iirc) has this interpretation of bill and it is great#bill looking *bored* while interacting with ford??? absolutely heartbreaking concept 10/10
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backagainpodcast · 2 years
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Fitting that The Longest BABA Episode By A Metric Fuckton is a history of Rhia. I like this one a lot :)
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Ah yes, the classic ask game! /pos
💬 & "apprehensive" for Aqua, please! - @edencantstopfallininlove
Hehe, thank you for this! I definitely have something in mind for this emotion, so thank you kindly for it!~
(source: this post by queenieboo22)
send me 💬 and a character (and optional bonus emotion) and I’ll give you a line my self-insert would say if in a canon interaction with them - "I.. I suppose what I worried about for so long was whether you would truly want to be with me. Whether you would truly want me to be with you, as well. With what you have told me of how your Master taught you and Terra, I can't help but shake the impression that.. you would have merely struck me down as if I were any other creature of darkness, had we first crossed paths in circumstances where you were stronger. I, for my part, am still so enraged at the man who did all this to you and to the people you cared about. And so I will do everything I can in order to destroy him, and to do so at your side. But.. that’s only if you want me there with you. And.. I can’t say I wouldn’t understand if you were to say that you didn’t. The idea of it still worries me, but I know that it could be a possibility..”
I hope that that was alright! Thank you very much again for sending this in ^-^
#a call from the void#selfship#selfshipping#heart of the void#love: wayfinding waters (aqua)#selfship: survivors of the dark (aqua/aria)#self‑insert: darkness' champion (aria)#it's rare I get to demonstrate this fully but aria's more.. clunky? way of talking is deliberate on my part#as you might be able to see i'm doing now because i was writing the line out in ''her'' tone of voice#the idea is that the structure of how she speaks is the same way my latin translations turn out#which is to say it is in places somewhat clunky/less fluent-sounding in favour of preserving the original word order as closely as possible#because while I understand the importance of taking liberties with translations to make them flow more naturally in the new language..#I personally like preserving as much of the original's.. essence? flow? in the translation. almost so you could translate it back smoothly#then again when the only language I knew well enough to translate epic excerpts of is the one of two thousand years in the past#whose most famed-to-us-now writers tend to *miss out half of the verbs for the sake of preserving the metre*#I suppose it's only natural for keeping close to lead to an arguably less fluent/less fluid end result#..that was a ramble and a half wasn't it? maybe when we're finally settled i'll be able to find my aeneid translations from a-level#out of the inbox#selfship asks#eden tag!#oh also suffice it to say aria doesn’t have to worry about aqua not wanting her because she does want her and she does value her company
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shimmerbeasts · 3 days
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Tag Dump.
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satoruhour · 7 months
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AFTER MISSION HOURS
a/n: mb guys, i cant escape the soft dom allegations i just love it too much. but gojo is a little rougher in this. wrote this as a result of the latest jjk ep and uuuhhhhhmmmm imma need him to be angry more CAAUUUUSEEEEE .....
warnings: sorta rough dom!gojo, fem!reader, face-fucking, deep-throating, oral (m receiving), multiple rounds, unprotected sex, spitting on your pussy, praise, degradation, use of ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, creampie / breeding kink, aftercare and cute gojo at the end, n*sfw under the cut
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“s— satoru?” you’re taken aback when he stalks through the door, almost making a dent in the wall from how hard he slams it open and the darkness of the front door light does his eyes justice in showing just how bright they are. albeit a little less blue and swirling with something darker and you’re taken aback when he finally walks up to you and seizes your wrist.
“’toru— you should go see shoko—!” you’re surprised when he whirls you around and nods his head towards the big sofa wordlessly and while you’re not a stranger to gojo’s outbursts when you’re arguing about how he needs to value his life more or when he’s uptight from a stressful meeting with the higher-ups, but never like this. frankly, you’ve never even had to courage to tell him all the times he’s stared at you with hooded eyes and a frown etched onto his face, you had to hold yourself back from jumping him.
but now he’s taking matters into his own hands.
you yelp in shock as he pushes you onto your hands and knees and you look back at how he kneels in front of your slowly soaking underwear. gojo plants his hands on your ass and kneads, bringing his nose right up to your pussy lips and licks a stripe over the fabric.
“so wet jus’ from that? fuckin’ slut,” he whispers just loud enough for you to hear and you’re ashamed to admit that you like it a little too much when you let out a small whine unknowingly. “oh? like it when i call you a little slut?”
he makes sure to spit out the last part and his anger and stress lowers a little just seeing how you wiggle your butt closer to him and a smile spreads on your face. there’s a little twinkle in your eye when you see the way your boyfriend’s hands make their way down to his pants but he stops short, larger hands wrapping around your waist to flip you over. thank god the couch was big, and he inches his way up your body.
“c’mon. take my cock out,” he’s staring at you from above, a sight you weren’t used to, rather more accustomed to having him below you but this new change sends chills right down to your core. you tug at his pants impatiently and satoru watches with a close eye how you scramble to pull down his underwear and the way your lips part slightly. gojo hums softly when you start stroking it to full hardness and the awe on your face is just so adorable.
“suck.” you didn’t need to be told twice, bringing his angry weeping tip right to your mouth to suckle the pre-cum out of it and your eyes flick up just as he smirks. your mouth’s so full of him, moaning around his length as you bob your head in the uncomfortable position. “all ya good for, huh? made just f’r suckin’ me off.”
this gojo was miles off from your loving boyfriend but you loved it all the same, nodding and hollowing your cheeks and using your hands for the places you can’t reach. your mouth and hands were no comparison to your tight cunt but they’re second best, so warm and pliant. you stare up at him before coming off and drool drips down the side of your mouth.
“fuck my mouth, satoru,” your pleading eyes are too much for him, both hands still stroking him non-stop as you mix in your saliva with his pre-cum, lewd noises filling the hall. “please?”
gojo simply laughs, a laugh that definitely says i should do this more, “sure, baby.”
and while his stress is immediately gone from seeing you beg, he’s not any more gentle as he lines his cock along your lips and holds onto the arm rests of the couch and fucks your face. the first thrust into your mouth, he moans out loud before his hips move quicker and quicker and you have hardly any time to adjust. your fingers squeeze his thighs with each ram into you, tip kissing the back of your throat you swear you can feel him in your stomach. you’ve learned to hold your breath even when your nose meets with his untrimmed pubes, eyes never breaking contact as he slams into you.
“mouth s’good— s-shit . .” gojo chuckles breathlessly when he hears you gurgle on his fat cock, feeling your tongue massage the base of his dick. the obscene gawking noises only gets louder when he pushes himself right to the limit, obsessed with how your eyes roll to the back of your head and you can make little noises around him. he gives a little quick glance to see your playing with yourself and he swears under his breath, pulling his hips back and letting you breathe. “filthy girl. jus’ need me so bad.”
“y—yeah satoru. wanna take your mind off . . work,” you mumble, eyes focused on how his cock twitches and leaks pre-cum from his tip and you just wanna make him feel so good — you’re not even that big on the whole housewife thing, but the way gojo treats you? you’d be on your knees all day if you could, taking his warm cum down your throat. 
“yeah? cute lil thing you are.” he taunts, bending his body so he could be inches from your face even as you continue pumping him and he’s trying not to lose composure. his eyes bore holes into your face from how hard he stares at you, breath shaky as your hands move under his jujutsu uniform and all over his upper body.
“use me.” it comes so abruptly even you are surprised, knowing how you liked to be more passive in your sex life and still, this is your first step out of your meekness. “take it all out on me, satoru.”
gojo’s chest heaves and he silently pulls away to face your cunt, removing your panties and he really wants to give you everything slowly like he likes it. he wants to see you cry as he rocks into you with gradual grinds but when you tell him something as dirty as that — he’s doing anything but that.
“haah . .” satoru sighs at your clenching pussy, dragging his tip up and down, up and down your folds and just seeing your juices just flow and flow and he’s hypnotised, “careful what you wish for, darling girl.”
you barely have time to register his warning before he slams into you and you’re screaming. it’s easy from how wet you are and it takes a small while as you adjust to his thrusts and gojo uses your body like a ragdoll. he hovers over you as your legs are limp and unsure of where they should go. this little dilemma isn’t lost on satoru, grabbing your ankles and holding them as his hips move relentlessly and this has your hips lifting off the sofa; he easily reaches your g-spot like this.
“satoru— fucking g-god! satoruuu . . !” you moan at the roughness of his ministrations, thinking you were free from the assault when he lets your ankles rest on his shoulders but all he does is spit on your pussy. a perfect shot and he rubs it in with his thumb and it has you whining out loud at the sudden stimulation, “t-too much!”
“you can take it.” gojo simply mumbles, thumb drawing timed circles on your clit as he watches his cock disappear into you. “can do it when you’re clenchin’ around me this hard.”
gojo grins, sickly.
“ah! my pretty little slut did it again.” the names were an exact opposite from the softer praise you were used to, and still they have you biting your lips and giggling in between moans, letting him fuck you like the cocksleeve you are.
“breed me, ’toru. need it—!”
“that right?” gojo slams into you at the speed of an animal, clearly still high-strung from the mission and notices how you still are making sure he cums first. the thought makes his hips stutter paired with seeing your doe eyes as little pants leave your mouth and he needs to pull away from your clit to hold onto your thighs before he cums and cums and cums. your back arches at the feeling and a soft moan is heard from your lips at how it starts to fill you up.
gojo wastes no time to pull out and see his cum spill out of you before he’s doing a circular motion with his finger and you’re lying on your stomach like a good girl. you melt when you feel him scoop it all up, pushing the escaping cum right back into you and your head sinks into the cushions while your ass only pushes more into him.
“hol’ on, baby, got another load for ya,” this thrust is wet. you can basically hear his cum struggle to stay in you to the point where his cock is coated in a thin layer of white and you can only moan out for him from below. he shuts you up but pressing you deeper into the sofa, a harsh hand on your lower back and your ass sticks out more.
“thaaat’s it . .” gojo smirks, licking his lips as he watches your ass ripple from the contact. each drag of his cock into your warm, cute pussy, his eyes are there, and each spurt of your arousal and his cum as his pelvis meets yours, he’s searing it into his brain, “this what you mean by using you?”
you’re murmuring “yeah”’s into the sofa, knees and arms suffering from fabric burn from how much your body was moving, and yet his throbbing cock is just too good. your mouth falls open when satoru reaches around to rub at your clit again and your hands fly to hold onto his wrists, “oh— right there, ’toru . .!”
it’s all too much for you, the previous load of cum spilling onto the couch below you, the filthy sounds of slapping skin and the sloppiness of your pussy that it’s even having gojo moving aimlessly into you, rather just rutting in you messily.
“g’na cum again— f-fuck,” gojo swears as his fingers on your clit are more frantic to try to match his pace while he props a leg up onto the sofa and you thrash against his hold because his tip brushes against your cervix so good that you’re convulsing in the next second, whining and mewling as you cum all over his cock.
he can feel your cum and the sorcerer moans, switching to short, impatient thrusts into your tight cunt and his grunts merges with calls of your name, eyes scrunched up as he shoots his second orgasm into you. you try to grab at something as there’s the familiar feeling of his tip releasing ribbons of cum deep into your womb, but you come up short, settling rather to dig your nails into fabric.
“take my load like the cock drunk whore you are,” gojo grunts out lowly, grinding his hips into you just to get his last drops of cum into you and he has the audacity to massage at your lower back while your body’s still reeling from the intense high and yes, his anger is quelled a little but each time you’re with gojo satoru there’s always surprise ambushing you from every corner.
you gasp when he pulls you up and pulls you against his chest, moving his hips in an experimental thrust right into you and you’re sagging over his strong arms that hold you up, whining incoherently as you struggle to stay awake.
“alright, alright,” satoru laughs softly, pressing a peck to your cheek, “needa thank my baby for letting me use her.”
you barely manage a smile, turning back to him with a raise of your eyebrow, “can still go . . ’toru . .”
he hums, and pulls you off of him slowly, dick jumping just a little when he hears a choked moan leave you at the feeling of his cum dripping from your cunt but he steels himself, “hm, don’t think so, princess.”
you pout, immediately turning around to hug him close to you and gojo’s heart flutters at your cuteness. he sighs at your adamant stance, easily standing up with you wrapped around him and carrying the two of you to the master bathroom.
“let’s clean up and we’ll see if you’re awake enough to go again, alright?” satoru whispers to you before turning on the shower, and later when he’s stuck in the toilet tidying up his pubes (he saw how uncomfortable you were earlier) and he’s letting you take the bed first, there’s a perplexity and small fear that overcomes the male at the lack of answer when he calls out to you.
but gojo comes out to you slipping in and out of consciousness with only his shirt whilst hugging his pillow and he smiles to himself, getting dressed as quickly as possible and slipping in beside you. a soft smile is still plastered on his face when you naturally curl into his warmth and mumble out a soft i still had stamina, satoru.
“shh, go to sleep, baby,” satoru tugs you closer into him and he wonders if there’s any way to love you even more than he already does, “we have all the time in the world, silly girl.”
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shibuya incident? tf is that?? never happened bitch
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