#I LOVE U CLAIRE <3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pupcuck · 5 months

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LOVEY-DOVEY !

ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. ddlg, daddy dom/little girl duhh, leon feeling guilty for no reason, age gap, princess parts used once, an abundance of pet names, honestly just icky sappy smut, typical stuff like penetration n oral, praise kink

note. haiii :3 so insanely embarrassed to post this it’s insanely icky and soft for me .. but ignore typos as always :333 rbs n feedback greatly appreciated :33 crossposted on my ao3 clitkiss as usual, this is like very.. ddlg like he dresses u at one point but it’s only mentioned briefly

stocking filler

You and Leon are trying something new. Now, he’s no stranger to it, his moonlight trysts with Pornhub show that he’s an expert at it in fact. But that was back in his late twenties. Op in Spain made his brain go funny, and maybe it’s ‘cause Ashley is the perfect subject for it - DDLG that is. She batted her lashes up at, clung to his arms, and she needed him, relied on him. In turn, he spent his days balls deep in videos like Daddy’s Little Girl Punished For Staying Up Past 8 PM, and even classier ones like Big Cock Daddy Fucks Tiny Tit Teen Girlfriend Till She Squirts (ANAL + THROATFUCKING)! Even the occasional Step-Daughter Chokes On Step-Daddy’s Fat Cock While Mommy Sleeps! Very tasteful, very nuanced, very discreet. So yeah, not to brag, but Leon’s kind of a porn connoisseur. Dabbled in every category.

The DDLG thing got boxed up and shelved away quick. Made him feel guilty, post-nut clarity set in the second he’d milked himself dry. Then he’d lay there for hours with a sticky palm and a heavy heart. Hasn’t thought about it in years, these days Leon’s more into Busty Dom Mommy Pegs Scrawny, Ugly, Sissy Slut In Business Suit! and if he’s really feeling up for it Stupid Fucking Bitch Takes Two Dicks At Once! The titular bitch actually only took one dick at a time despite the two dicks present, quite misleading in his humble opinion. No more creepy daddy stuff though. Those days are over; he hasn’t thought about it in twenty years give or take. Claire sent him this ‘Get porn sites taken down for women blah blah blah’ petition, he signed it, clicked out of the tab and got down to watching some silly slut get fucked within an inch of her life.

It’s more of a boredom thing. Honest. Leon watches porn to fill in gaps of space throughout his day; he nods his head thoughtfully when the man so affectionately titled Blue-Collar Bear slams into the Preppy Spoiled Twink. This is all getting away from him, the point is, Leon hasn’t thought about the dreaded topic of DDLG for literal decades. Then you walk in, and Leon’s sat there listening to you prattle on about Pompompurin and Chococat, an entire lineup of characters that he now knows off by heart.

Oh, is that right, sweetheart? Cinnamoroll’s a puppy, not a bunny? Wow, I didn’t know that, baby, fascinating ain’t it? Miffy‘s from the Netherlands, god, she’s gotta be careful over there in Amsterdam, honey. They don’t call that place Sin City for no reason, the red light district is no joke. Oh, I see, she’s from Utrecht? Ah, guess she’s safe then, I’m glad. What’s her name? That’s your favourite, Cogimyun? That’s a mouthful, ain’t it? She looks like a cloud. No? She's not? She’s a what-? Made of wheat flour? Oh! Well, that’s real funny, baby. Bet she don’t do well on windy days.

You don’t tell him outright. But he knows. Leon tries to tell himself that you’re just like this, that you buy cutesy, girly stickers to make yourself happy, that you fill his bedroom with soft toys ‘cause you simply like ‘em, turn them around when you fuck as a joke. But it’s clear, the headspace you’re left in after sex gives it away, haven’t let the D word slip so far, Leon’s banking on it being soon though.

He pets your head before you leave the house one day, you beam up at him, apples of your cheeks rounded with how hard you're smiling. “Love you, daddy!” You chirp all too loudly, jaw dropping open a moment later at your own blunder. Then you skitter out the front door unnervingly like a deer with CWD.

Called it. Made a bet on it even. Leon takes fifty out of his savings account, owes it to himself. You looked awful upset, he sends you a message, tells you to be safe, text him when you meet your friends. You do. Somehow, even the message is clipped. Poor baby, you’re embarrassed. The colour had drained from his face when you said it. You’d noticed for sure.

You’re younger than him, much younger. Too many years younger. An age gap that makes his head spin. Leon tries not to dwell on it, but it gets real hard. Claire’s always down his throat about it. When you go out in public together, he’ll sneak a hand in your back pocket and get stared down by every passer-by. He’s been asked if he’s your dad before. Blow to his ego. Considered botox and filler for the entirety of the following week. Certainly not your dad, possibly your daddy. Now you’ve cemented that in place - you want Leon to be your daddy, and he’ll fill those shoes.

Even if it leaves a bad taste on his tongue, even if it makes his skin crawl. Leon is willing to lay down his life for you half of the time, best thing that ever happened to him, so what harm is a little DDLG gonna do? He just needs to get comfortable with it, refamiliarise himself with all the lingo. How hard could it be? The guilt? He can get over it, even if it clings to him like a festering scab.

When you come back home it’s late, he barely hears your footsteps. You’ve learnt how to make yourself scarce when returning on late nights, Leon’s a light sleeper. A jumpy one at that. He smells jasmine when you pull back the covers, the mattress dips and he turns to face you.

“Fuck!” You gasp, brows pinched together, he runs his thumb over the divot that’s formed between them. “You scared me, Leon.”

“Not that ugly am I?” He juts his bottom lip out, it pulls a laugh out of you, and that makes him smile. You were emanating gloom and doom the second you stepped into the bedroom. Clear skies now.

“Never, you’re sooo handsome.” You kiss the tip of his nose, smear pink Vaseline on it.

“You know just what I wanna hear, don’t you, baby?” Apart from daddy. He’d make the joke, but you’d likely flip out. Leon shuts his mouth. He’s gotten better at doing that lately. Must be the effect you’ve had on him. “Baby?”

“Yes?”

“About today—“

“Leon.” It’s a warning.

“Baby.”

“Leon.” Clearly you want to brush it under the rug. “It was just a slip-up, I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, so can we just drop it?” Uh, woah, someone’s defensive.

“Baby, it didn’t make me uncomfortable,” Leon strokes your cheek, his cold hands warmed by the heat of your dewy skin. It made him mildly uncomfortable. That’s ‘cause he grapples with all these I’m a dirty old man that deserves to be crucified, Claire’s right I’m a fucking cradlerobber, I should let her go, I’ll be dead by the time she’s ready to get married thoughts. You’re this pretty young thing and it makes him tremendously nervous.

“I saw your face, Leon, I’m not stupid.” You’re getting huffy now, fluffing the pillows and turning away from him.

“Babe, I was just surprised, pinky promise.” Leon sticks his pinky finger into your line of sight, there’s silence, then the sheets ruffle and you’ve lifted your hand, shorter pinky wrapping around his.

“Like, pinky swear, Leon?” You sound so small, so scared, his heart aches.

“Baby,” he coos, “light of my life, angel, apple of my fuckin’ eye, sugar, dollface,” you hang onto every word, eyes getting bigger and wider by the second, “I knew the minute you showed me those Sylvanian Families.” You smack his chest and he laughs in your face.

“You’re an asshole and I hate you so much.” When he touches your cheek again, you’re burning up, he places a kiss behind your ear. “Stupid old man.”

“C’mon, baby, you think I’m dumb? You gave them names.” The Persian Cat triplets are named Serena, Nate and Blair. From Gossip Girl of course, he didn’t know what that was. Tedious is his review. Leon thought Henry, Tommy and Jimmy were more fitting names. You didn’t understand the reference. “You buy ‘em little plates and forks and cups, they’re living better than us, baby.” And that’s a fact. You splurged on a Red Roof Country House. Far nicer than his apartment, once empty, now filled with junk like that. No, it’s not junk, it’s his baby’s stuff, trinkets that make her happy.

“What if I just liked them?” You’re glaring at him, cutely of course, everything you do is saccharine.

“Just adds up, don’t it?” Leon gives you a big, wet kiss on your pouty lips. Tastes roses. Literally. He just swallowed a bunch of pink Vaseline. “What I wanted to say ‘fore you got all pissy on me,” he swallows the lump in his throat, fuck it, how bad could it go, he’s just making his favourite girl happy, “I don’t mind tryin’ it out.”

Rules are implemented the following morning, albeit loosely. Leon doesn’t have a lot of control over things, the DSO has jurisdiction over him, got him by the balls. And in turn, Leon’s just learnt how to take it like a good bitch. You handed him a pink glitter pen and a page from your Hello Kitty notebook. Asked him so sweetly to make a general set of rules, so you know how to be a good girl for daddy. Leon sprung a boner so fast he got nauseous. And that’s not even the sex part of this arrangement. He uses his black ballpoint pen, pink glitter isn’t his thing. Plus, it doesn’t show up on the paper.

You giggle when he hands them over to you; Leon’s ears flush pink. He’ll get better at it, swear. He wants to do well for you. Wants you to feel satisfied with his quote caregiving unquote.

It starts off slow, you hand him your toothbrush in the morning, Leon blinks at you in pure and utter befuddlement. You say Ah! like you would at the dentist and he gets it. Leon sits you on the closed lid of the toilet seat, making sure to get your molars, your canines, front teeth, and all the remaining ones. Five seconds each. Or he tries at least. You’re quite meticulous in this headspace, letting out a disgruntled noise when he fails to be precise.

Then you sit on the mat while he showers, like a puppy, didn’t even notice you were there until he opened the sliding door. “Hi there, babydoll.” Leon wraps a towel around his waist, “whatcha doin’ down there?”

“Waiting for daddy.” You tell him plainly, then trail after him as he gets ready. Right. He’s gotta pick out your clothes. What if you don’t like them? You’re so fussy with your style, spend hours tossing piece after piece out of the wardrobe, stomp your feet when the blouse you wanted to wear is in the laundry. Right now, you’re totally placid, lifting your arms when he asks as he puts you in a ribbed pink sweater and the frilly skirt you’re so fond of, knee high socks per usual, Mary Janes to finish it off. Oh. Yeah. This is bad. He’s in deep. You’re too cute. He thinks he wants to be your daddy forever.

“My dad’s been wanting to see you, Leon.” Ashley’s all grown up now, which makes him feel a bit sappy. Hypocritical really, he’s got a college girl back at home calling him daddy.

Dad… Daddy, I love you, when are you coming home?

Leon blinks to clear his mind, gives Ashley a plastic smile. “How’s he been?”

“Oh, you know how it is, he got a little sick over Halloween, but that guy, he’s always up and kicking.” Ashley brings a vanity out of her pocket, reapplies her lipstick. “Overall, he’s been good.”

Good girl, am I a good girl, daddy?

Jesus Christ, get a grip, man. “I’m glad, should take a rest that guy.”

“I know!” Ashley moves her plate to the side and lays out her entire makeup case on the table, picking out mascara. When he looks closely, her round mirror is printed with a vaguely familiar cartoon bunny. “He never listens, hasn’t been President for decades and he just works and works and works. That’s why you should call, tell him to take it easy.”

“What’s her name?” Leon frowns, jabs his thumb towards the compact.

“My Melody!” She answers, grinning at him with her pearly whites.

My Melody, Kitty, Keroppi, and Mimi, did you write that down, daddy? And there’s—

“Aren’t you too old for that, Ash?” Leon raises his brow, he’s not serious though, and she can tell.

“Hey, I liked Sanrio before it was cool in 2004, okay?” She tosses it all back in her clutch. Ashley’s too nice, if it were Claire she’d bite back with Aren’t you too old for your girlfriend, loser? And that would shut him up. “It was nice seeing you, Leon, I wanna meet your girlfriend next time, she seems sweet. And don’t forget to call dad, I’ll drop his number later.”

Call dad… Daddy? Daddy.

“Leon, don’t you think Chris looks like our dad?” Claire’s hijacked the DSO break room once again, she’s in town for some TerraSave presentation thingy. He wasn’t listening. Eyes glassed over as he gazes endlessly at her phone screen.

Dad. Dada. Daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy.

“Huh?” Leon says dumbly.

Claire levels him with her stare. “You’ve been out of it today, what’s up?”

“Nothing.” He shrugs nonchalantly, wipes his clammy palms on his jeans. “Just didn’t sleep well.”

“Uh huh.” Claire’s not convinced. Shit. She totally knows. She sees right through you, Leon. She knows what dirty shit you’ve been up to, can see the shame on your face, and she’s building her case against you. “Anyway,” she begins, voice holding onto it’s suspicious edge, “I was saying, I found this photo album of our parents, doesn’t Chris look so much like dad?”

Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. Fuck. He needs a lobotomy. Stat. This is taking over his fucking life. A sizable chunk of his brain was removed in his sleep, and it’s been replaced by pink mushy goo. Different to the pinkish brain matter that resides inside one’s head. More a glittery pink goop that morphs into the shape of you. You’re jumping around in there, sliding down the sulci and fissures in his brain, lodging yourself deep in his mind. Making it your playground.

“You’re fucking impossible to talk to, Leon. You know that?” What’d you say Claire? He can’t hear you over the impossibly disgusting, perverted thoughts running through his mind.

The second he gets home, Leon is on you. Face between your tits, knee keeping your thighs open, kissing you breathless. “Daddy!” You giggle, delighted by the wave of affection.

“Babydoll,” Leon rubs his stubble against your cheeks to hear you squeal, “Daddy missed you so much.”

“I missed daddy sooo much too!”

“Oh, yeah? How much did you miss daddy?”

You stretch your arms as wide as they go. “This much, daddy!” Fuck. Holy fucking shit. He needs to start going to weekly mass again.

“Yeah?” Leon peppers kisses all over your little face, forehead to your neck, “what’d ya get up to?”

“Mmm,” you hum, tapping a finger against your lip thoughtfully, “coloured, ate ‘n got sleepy, daddy.”

“What an eventful day that is, baby.” Leon kisses your nose. “You colour something for daddy?” He needs to put his dick in you before he explodes.

“Mhm,” your lashes flutter when he sneaks a hand up your loose sweater, hanging off your shoulders, swallowing you up, “I put it in daddy’s office…” Your breath hitches when he rolls your pebbled nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Daddy’s gonna hang it on the fridge tonight then.” Leon mumbles, too busy shoving his naughty hand down your pyjama shorts, cupping your mound. Your fingers tremble as you lift the hem of your sweater, baring your tits for him, he takes your nipple into his mouth. Bites down to hear you gasp. Latches on like a damn baby, groping the other tit roughly.

“Daddy,” you whimper, and the sound alone makes his dick twitch. Leon pulls off with a pop, spit dripping down his chin.

“I know, baby,” Leon coos, “daddy’s gonna take care of you.” Dirty old man! blares Claire’s voice in the back of his mind. Leon can’t find it in himself to care. Watch this, bitch. “You want daddy to play with your princess parts, babydoll?” You heard that right, princess parts. He’s been sucked in that deep.

You nod, brows pinched together as you bunch up the sheets in your curled fists. Leon clicks his tongue, presses a kiss below your belly button. “Words, baby.” He reminds you, his tone delicate, only lightly chiding.

“Need daddy… need him to play with me,” it’s barely a mumble, but Leon takes it. He knows how jumbled your head gets in this mindset. Poor baby, play with your clit and it turns you all stupid.

Leon gets to work. He’s been waiting for it all day, to get his mouth on this perfect cunt. He spreads you out, urges you to go wider, as far as you can. Licks over the fabric of your cotton panties, his nose nestled against your swollen clit, sucking on the wet patch on the gusset. The constant nudge of his nose against your clit is making you antsy, your chest rises and falls, your fingers itch to tug at his hair, but you’re an obedient girl so you keep them down by your sides. Clutch at the sheets till your nails break.

He continues to lick and suck at your leaky centre through the fabric for an eternity. You have your complaints, but you can’t say no to daddy. That’s, like, against the rules. So Leon has his fun, maybe a little too much fun. You let out a strained noise, and enough is enough, you’re being so good for him, so patient. His little girl deserves a treat. Once you’ve creamed your panties that is.

“God,” you toss your head back and melt when his tongue flattens over your bare folds, he’d thrown your panties into the laundry basket a minute prior, good aim.

“Hey, give me some credit, baby,” Leon takes a break from tongueing you down, “God’s not doing shit down here, it’s all your daddy.”

That makes you giggle. Then you call out daddy so sweetly his brain blanks. He spits on your sticky core, you’re wet enough, but Leon likes it sloppy, wants to feel your mess dripping down his chin. His teeth scrape your clit, pulls the hood back, kitten licks it, kisses it three times for good luck.

“Don’t cover your mouth, baby,” Leon places a big hand on your hip, holds you in place, “Daddy didn’t say you could do that.”

“Sorry… ‘M sorry, daddy,” you whine, the hand once clasped over your mouth falling limp, and you’re moaning like a fucking pornstar. He can’t handle it. That word does something to him, something evil and degenerate.

He pushes your cushiony lips together, pinches your clit when it sticks out, makes the nastiest sounds known to mankind. Messy eater. Schlurping, schmacking, gulping. What he’s gulping down? God knows. Two fingers slip into you, knuckle-deep, wriggle around, scissor you open, his palm mashed into your clit. Leon’s face is resting on your plush thigh, admiring his own handiwork. Your slick cunt, drooling all down his wrist, covered his face in it, now you're cumming in messy spurts.

“Atta girl,” Leon croons, lays it on thick with the praise ‘cause he knows you get shy about this, “that’s right, dollface, just let it all out for, daddy, huh?”

Panting, you curl into yourself, kick your legs a little when his nimble fingers find your sticky clit, he can feel you throbbing. “No more, daddy.” You beg, rubbed raw from the back-to-back orgasms.

“Too much, baby?” Leon’s hand comes to cop a feel, his nose pressing into the nape of your neck. “Can you get daddy off?”

The energy seems to zap back into you within an instant. You nod, head bobbing up and down like it should be doing on his dick. You love having your mouth full, keep his cock down your throat till you go numb. Suckle on it with pride and integrity. You gaze up at him with those eyes, heart-shaped pupils and all, blowjob eyes.

“How’d you want daddy?” Leon asks, you roll over, laying flat on your back, you want him like that? Alright, naughty girl. With your head between his meaty thighs, Leon guides his weeping tip past your swollen lips, you lap at the slit, collecting droplets of his precum on your tongue.

“Shit,” Leon gets out through gritted teeth, covers it with a cough, he shouldn’t really be saying bad words, not setting a good example for his baby. The suction is crazy, feels like he stuck his dick into the tube of a vacuum cleaner. Your cheeks hollow out as he thrusts his hips forwards, tip hitting the back of your throat, making you gag each time. Still take it like a champ though. You always do, his good fucking girl. “Doin’ so damn well, baby, makin’ daddy cum.”

Your little hand comes to rest on his abdomen, Leon eases up, lets his fat cock slip out of your mouth, he thinks you’ve had enough, but you go for his balls instead. Open your mouth wide as you try to fit ‘em in your mouth. “No chance, baby.” Leon smiles, patting your head, you lick along the seam and his dick is fucking throbbing. Hail fucking Mary. “Not gonna last, babydoll, can daddy fuck you now or ya need a break?”

You nod, he raises a brow, “No, daddy, I’m fine, daddy. Need daddy in me so bad.” You croak out, throat sore from the time spent with his cock lodged in your windpipe.

That makes him groan. The non-explicit dirty talk is fuckin’ weird, turns him on in ways he can’t explain. He loves when you avoid saying the word pussy, can’t say cock, makes it sound even dirtier. Maybe it’s the control aspect. You can’t say those words ‘cause daddy said so, ‘cause Leon said so.

His dick jumps the second he tries to slide in, bumps against your sensitive clit, shit, that hasn’t happened since he was twenty. Leon grabs your ankles, kisses one before he throws them over his shoulders, uses one hand to guide his dick to your sloppy hole and the other is intertwined with your smaller one. Tender, sappy, sweet. Oh, don’t make him tear up, princess. With age he’s softened up. For you Leon has softened up. Brought back part of who he was before it all went wrong.

“My pretty girl,” he pets your cheek like he does the neighbour’s well-fed cat, and you lean into it all the same. He fills you up so well. No matter how much Leon plays with your pussy, there’s always a stretch, and he can tell by the look on your face. Nose scrunching, lips parting, letting out a sharp breath as the weight of his cock knocks against your cervix. “All done, baby.” Leon tells you, and you open your eyes, sit up on your elbows to see where the two of you meet in a sticky, squelching embrace. “Well done, baby, you’re such a big girl, takin’ all of daddy, aren’t you?” Leon presses his hand down on your lower tummy, his cock angles upwards so he can hit that spongy spot deep inside, the one that makes you sob. “Is it there?”

The cry you let out is the confirmation he needs. He bullies his cock into you, fucks you rough ‘cause he loves you. Making love is for mornings, when you’re sleepy and pliant, nasty fucking is for after work. When he’s pent up, when you’ve been on his mind all day. Leon pulls out, only his tip keeping your cunt spread open, then he slams back in, and you begin to sniffle, squeezing his hand so tight you cut off his blood circulation.

“Daddy,” You drop his hand, nails clawing down his back, his lonely hand suffering from a severe case of pins and needles, “daddy, daddy, daddy— oh, daddy!” It’s the only thing you can say. Stuffed your cunt and your head is full of him too. Leon adores you. Prettiest girl in the whole world and you’re here speared on his cock. Dexterous fingers find your clit once more, helping you reach the edge.

“You can do it, baby, don’t worry, daddy’s here.” Leon dips his head down, kisses you and swallows up your sounds, stringy spit keeping the two of you connected. Red string of fate or whatever. “Daddy’s right here, daddy loves you.”

All it took was the L word, and you’re squirting. Pushing his cock out, dripping down his heavy balls, digging your nails into his back, chanting daddy like your life depends on it. And Leon can’t take it, he’s been ready to bust the second he got home, his stomach contracts, spills his seed into your wet cunt. Messy just how he likes it.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Leon lets his full weight drop on top of you.

You grunt softly, “Heavy, daddy.”

“Yeah, I know, gimme a second.” Leon grumbles, teeth tugging on your earlobe. “How’d you rate me? Five stars? Ten out of ten?”

You yawn into his hair, “Stop bein’ silly, daddy.”

#leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x you #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader

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yourstrulyrika · 3 months

Note

leon taking care of fem reader after a long day? could be nsfw or sfw, either would be to die for <3 thank you!!

of course we live for caring leon ♡ thank u for your rq!!

i decided to do both sfw and nsfw because i love both <3 i may be smut focused account but i lovelovelove comfort and fluff. i am a SUCKER for it. i have a whole ass playlist for soft moments that fit leon imo. if you guys would like to see it, i can share!!

honestly no warnings, fem! reader obviously, leon taking care of reader, that’s really it :3

you guys will actually end up like this is you keep being so sweet smh. love you all ♡

SFW ver!

long days aren’t something new for you two. it’s nothing new for you to be tired, sleepy — sometimes you just end up asleep the second you’re in bed.

however, Leon is always there to take care of you — just like you do when he has a long day. when you’re sleeping, he’ll just lay down beside you, making sure you’re in a good sleeping position so you won’t be in pain when you wake up, holding you until you wake up. Leon’s actually the type of person to stay awake when his darling is not feeling well, had a long day etc. he’s just too focused on taking care of you, so he ends up staying awake. when you’re not asleep yet though, things are a little different.

he’ll definitely make you dinner, or if he’s tired himself he’ll just order your favorite food. he always makes sure you’re not doing anything — you always take care of him, let him have his turn to care for you. you’re his princess, and he won’t let his princess strain herself right? you insist on dealing with things yourself — after all, this man struggles a lot already, you feel like a burden, you don’t want to tire him further. but he’s there to shush you with a kiss, before wrapping you in his arms.

“No no no, you’re staying here. Just sit down and be pretty, alright? Let me take care of you for once.” he says this so sweetly, you only hear this tone from him when he’s around you. and he’s looking at you with so much love in his eyes it’s hard not to cry. this man is actually so in love with you, when he’s staring at you it’s like he’s staring into the most precious thing he’d ever seen. and that’s how he sees you.

when you finish eating, he carries you to the bathroom, because let’s be honest Leon loves carrying you around. he knows you like this too — who wouldn’t like being carried by his big, strong arms?

he helps you take off your clothes, filling the bathtub with rubber ducks (you bought them one day and he loves them ever since) and lavender oils, epsom salts (recommending this btw it’s actually soothing for muscles) and green tea. he literally asked Claire for help one day on what to do when you need relaxing. he turns off the lights, lights up the candles and sinks in the bathtub with you. he’s holding your hands all the time too, wrapping you in a warm hug from behind. only stops holding you to wash your hair, but otherwise? no way, he won’t stop holding your hands.

“I love you so much. You know that, right? You’re all I could ask for.”

once the water starts to get cold, he helps you out, gives you one of his shirts and waits for you to dress up— once that’s done, he takes your hand again and guides you to the bedroom where he lays you down, disappearing for a moment before going back with drinks and your beloved snacks before laying down beside you, wrapping his arms around you protectively. he turns on the TV, putting a show or a film you like, depends on your choice. you just end up falling asleep together while the show goes on.

NSFW ver!

Leon knows exactly what to do when you have a long day. he knows you like the back of his hand, and if he sees you having a long day but still feeling needy, he’s here to help.

it can go both ways.

he makes you sit on his face, wrapping his strong arms around your thighs to hold you down tight so you won’t squirm too much. put your whole weight on him, he doesn’t care if he’s struggling to breathe. he loves eating your pussy out— especially when he knows it’s relaxing for you too. just use him all you want, he’s all yours.

“That’s it, what a good girl. Mm, you’re doing so well. My girl works so hard, huh? You deserve a bit of rest, you know? Don’t worry, ‘m gonna make it aaalll better.” he’s saying it so lovingly, voice muffled by your pussy but it’s okay — he loves it here. loves being suffocated by you, it’s literally heaven on earth for him. eats you out like man starved, eyes closed so he can focus on your taste. he remembers the shape of your pussy at this point, knows the points that make you see stars, and he uses it to his advantage.

“Fuuuck, she’s so sweet. Could eat it out for hours on end,” if you haven’t noticed it before, he actually loves talking to your pussy sometimes. it happens when he grows really pussydrunk, which is quite easy because he’s always drunk on you. he won’t let you go until you cum, and even then, he won’t. he’ll eat you out until you cum at least three times, or if you beg him to stop.

when he finishes, he lifts you up by your hips, and you see the prettiest sight you could see. eyes hazy, messy, sticky hair, flushed cheeks, your juices dripping out of his mouth and trailing down his chin, and a content look on his face. he’s so damn beautiful like this. he takes a moment to get back to his normal state, before speaking up.

“Told you, always ready to take care of my girl. Come on now, let’s clean up and rest, yeah?”

or,

he lays you down on your shared bed, making sure there are comfy pillows under you, making sure you’re comfortable and ready. he sticks his two thick fingers in your warm walls at first, preparing you for his fat cock. fingers you so good, curling his fingers until he finds that sweet spot and then repeatedly rubs it. he won’t stop until you’re cumming, arching you back so prettily for him.

“Thaaaat’s it. Sweet girl, always doing so well. But you want my cock, don’t you?” he teases you because he knows — hell, he wants to be inside you too. his cock is actually so hard, throbbing and just begging to be taken care of, already leaking precum.

he slides off his clothes, positioning himself on top of you before rubbing his thick cockhead against your clit a few times, tapping it and teasing you until you whine and say to slide in already.

“Impatient little thing. But I like when you’re impatient like this. Your wish is my command, baby.”

he reaches out to take your hand in his, before finally sliding in, and fuck, it feels so good to be buried deep in your walls already. so warm, so soft, gummy walls taking his fat dick like it belongs here. it does belong here, obviously.

“Oh fuck, gripping me so hard, can’t take it. Don’t worry, I got you, ‘m gonna make you feel so good you’ll forget about today.”

he can’t help the grunts and moans he lets out when he starts thrusting. you’re already sensitive due to previous orgasms, so you’re pulsing around him, massaging his cock so well his brain just goes blank. his body goes on autopilot at some point, pulling your legs over his shoulders so he can slide deeper into you, folding you all he wants. thrusting in and out, in and out, hitting your spot so well you can’t help but cream his cock. his heavy balls hit your ass every time he thrusts in, lewd squelching sounds mixed with skin slapping echoing through the house.

“God, ‘m gonna cum, so fucking close, baby, can feel you squeezin’ me so much, you’re close too aren’t you?”

he always makes sure you cum first— speeds up his movements until you let out a loud moan, spreading your legs wide when it hits you. he still moves, helping you through your orgasm, before finally cumming deep inside you, warm seed filling you up to the very brim. he stays like this for a while, before pulling out and almost collapsing on top of you. he simply presses a kiss to your forehead before he notices you’re already half asleep.

“Awww, my baby’s so tired huh? Don’t worry, go to sleep, I’ll take care of everything.” he coos, before reaching out for damp, soft cloth to wipe the cum off of you, cleaning you up like he promised. he’ll take a bath with you once you wake up — for now, he’ll just clean you up like this. gently cleaning you up, using baby wipes front to back to prevent infections. once both of you are all clean, he lays down beside you, pulling you on top of him so you sleep on his chest. he lets out a content sigh, pressing a kiss to your forehead before closing his eyes, too.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil #resident evil smut #leon kennedy smut

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sunflowerkiwis · 7 months

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heyy wife i was wondering if you could do a smau of charles leclerc x southern reader. like gorgeous, blonde, uf or fsu student, sports broadcasting major, sorority girl, but she has like a claire monroe or sadie crowell type of vibe. she's a freshman and she takes him to a game, frat parties, and waffle house (waffle house is very important). they get a lot of hate, because the pairing is so unexpected and the age gap. but then he like posts her to lyrics from southern girls by tim mcgraw

Southern Girl

charles leclerc x reader requested - i hope this is what you wanted love feedback is appreaciated + requests are open! enjoy xx

yourusername

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yourusername it's game day, say it with me

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yourfriend2 looking gorgeous😍

charles_leclerc ❤💛

user01 charles, honey... user03 what?? user01 don't you think their relationship's kinda weid?? i mean she IS nineteen user05 hey, university of stfu called, they're asking for you. i think it's none of our business

logansargeant go semicircles, or whatever

yourusername seminoles😐

yourfriend1 you did awesome!!

yourusername thanks babeee

user07 she's so pretty 😭

user09 if i were charles, i too would not gaf about the world and date her

charles_leclerc

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charles_leclerc the beaches are nice, but you're better❤⛱

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yourusername i love you charlie <3

charles_leclerc je t'aime ma cheri user11 they way you can tell they're genuinely happy, i don't understand why they get so much hate just living their lives :')

logansargeant yeah, yeah, you're in love, we get it🙄

yourusername you're just bitter bc nobody wants u logansargeant i most absolutely am not yourusername someone's jealousss logansargeant of you? never. user21 IN MY BOOK YN AND LOGAN ARE BEST FRIENDS AND YOU CANT CHANGE MY MIND FIGHT ME

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yourusername

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yourusername and now we party

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pierregasly oh god, please bring him back alive

landonorris or just... y'know, don't bring him back at all yourusername pierre, your boyfriend will be fine pierregasly just making sure

yourfriend3 he picked her up and we never saw her again... legend has it they're still taking pictures in the kitchen

liked by yourusername

yourusername 💀💀

user27 something about this still doesn't sit right with me...

user39 right? it was just so sudden and unusual. still love them tho user19 she's so young though user71 omg look at that, nobody asked

charles_leclerc that pizza looks amazing

user13 sure charles... the pizza...

logansargeant wowww hanging out without me. i see how it is.

user25 top ten betrayals in f1 history logansargeant right???

logansargeant added to their story!

caption: get a room🤢

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yourusername you're unbearable <3 logansargeant you two are disgusting <3 yourusername deal with it <3

yourusername added to their story!

caption: many many hours later...

yourusername

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yourusername baby's sixty-first waffle house trip 🤧🥹

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yourusername yes, logan, we got you some

logansargeant oh you're gonna make me cry logansargeant best best friend i could ask for

charles_leclerc and it was just like all the other sixty times

yourusername amazing? charles_leclerc sure logansargeant "sure"???? dump him. yourusername charles? 🤨 charles_leclerc it was great love logansargeant hm, he's ok ig🙄

yourfriend1 some things will never change 😂

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logansargeant

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logansargeant she brought me waffles!

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yourusername sir, who gave you permission to post that

pierregasly looking great, yn

yourusername shut up, gasoline

user17 if your best friend doesn't get you food even though she was out with her boyfriend buying food for themselves and you're piggybacking off their relationship bc they're your parents, is she even your best friend?

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logansargeant a true friend yourusername always

yourusername

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yourusername my pretty boy ❤

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user61 they're so cute😭

charles_leclerc mon amour❤

yourusername ❤❤

user01 she's too young for him

user87 right? it's so weird user93 literally go away. it's their relationship not yours. stfu.

logansargeant ew

logansargeant no

logansargeant delete this immeadiately

logansargeant i have to go bleach my eyes

yourusername omg you're such a drama queen user77 i'm sorry but thE WAY HE LOOKS AT HER???? user55 my mans is whipped

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caption: just a reminder that if you don't like something, you're still 100% able and welcome to click away or not even click in the first place. stay safe ya'll🫶

charles_leclerc

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charles_leclerc kisses sweeter than tupelo honey... southern girl rock my world, hazel eyes and golden curls. ❤.

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#f1 grid x reader #f1 x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x yn #charles leclerc smau #f1 smau #f1 fanfic #formula 1 smau #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 #thanks anon!

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fraserstanclub · 1 month

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"My return has been confusing and frustrating. But it's never been a question of whether I love you."

CLAIRE FRASER THROUGHOUT THE YEARS O U T L A N D E R ↳ Season 3

#**ol tty #outlander #claire fraser #perioddramasource #cinemapix #userelizabeth #mediagifs #userthing #usersource #usersteen #userteresa #useremsi #userkayjay #there's nothing i wouldn't queue for you

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mrs-kmikaelson · 10 months

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05| The Tribrid

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x daughter!reader Summary: As you settle back into the Quarter, you juggle your personal and new professional life—but with the Mikaelsons, it was almost as if there was no difference between the two. Warnings: none Words: 5.6K

Masterlist | Part 6

a/n: i see this series getting long, guys; just letting you know. btw, i'm pretty much unoccupied, so u can expect new posts for this series and possibly other imagines like every 2-3 days. and tysm for all the support! anyway, i'll let you get to reading now.

I walked into the Abattoir with a façade of confidence. I was now completely sober, facing the repercussions of my drunken actions. It'd been about a week since my agreement with Elijah and he'd only just called me in to speak with him yesterday.

I was currently cursing my drunk self, but at least Marcel was now allowed back into the Quarter without any fuss. Of course, he wasn't allowed back into the slaughterhouse, but he did compel himself a nice little townhouse a few minutes of human-walking away from my place.

In New Orleans, it was always better to live in the Quarter than anywhere else. This was the heart of the city's supernatural happenings. You were both safest here and also at most danger. But I guess, if you had enemies, you wanted to be in the Quarter because, if you had a crew to roll with, then nobody would really try you.

That's how it used to be at one point in time, and that's what the factions were trying to achieve now.

I was immediately greeted after making it past the gates. "Y/N," Elijah said, walking towards me, hands held out. He wrapped an arm around me, walking me to the couches in the middle of the courtyard. I tried not to show any discomfort at the physical touch. "It's lovely to see you."

I chuckled a little. "Feeling's mutual," I replied, causing the nobleman to let out a little laugh himself. I sat down on one of the couches while he sat on the other. "So, what have we got today?"

He sighed, "The withes are unhappy because of- all due respect, Marcellus' actions."

Right. Marcel forbade anyone to do magic. While I understand his reasoning, trying to protect a little witch by the name of Davina Claire, it was cruel. To ask a witch to go without magic was like asking a human not to breathe; it was damn near impossible.

Even though I get what he was trying to do, I still didn't agree with it—but that didn't mean that I agreed with what the New Orleans witches were doing either.

"So I've heard. But I'm sure you're aware of why he did what he did." He was; otherwise, I wouldn't have brought it up. I wouldn't do anything to endanger Davina; she'd become like a family to me. I knew that the Mikaelsons knew all about Davina, the harvest, and whatnot.

"Yes, of course. To protect Davina, I understand. She is special, without a doubt." Elijah's voice with filled with nothing other than conviction; I'd expect nothing less when people were speaking about Davina.

I smiled thinking about her. "Yes, she is."

"However, it still hasn't done us any favours on a community-wide scale." Elijah ran a hand through his hair. "The witches' spokesperson, Genevieve, is just about furious with the treatment they've received." A look suddenly appeared on his face. "And considering the... interactions my family has had with her, I wouldn't want to anger her further, especially since Hayley is with child."

This was the first time my heart didn't stop at the mention of Klaus' unborn baby. Instead, I was too focused on the witch Elijah named: Genevieve. Now, this was a name Marcel had somehow neglected to inform me about, but I was well aware of who she was.

From my understanding, Rebekah Mikaelson killed her the same year the Mikaelsons fled New Orleans, sometime in the early 1900s. Marcel spilled the whole story to me one night when he was drunk.

Genevieve died. Yet, according to Elijah (and I know this is not a coincidence) she's alive leading the NOLA coven.

Great.

I responded after a beat, bringing my hands together. "Okayyy, so what are we doing?"

"Making the witches happy, love."

Now my heart stopped.

I turned my head to see Klaus just finishing walking down the stairs. "Elijah tells me you're our new... fixer." He shrugged, making his way to the minibar. "So fix it."

"Niklaus."

"Get a grip, Elijah. I don't think I'm offending the young woman," he said before turning to face me. "Am I offending you, love?"

I skipped the whole processing bit of this situation and dived straight into my persona. "Not at all."

Klaus made a gesture to me with his hand, turning back to his brother. "See, Elijah. Marcel's right hand has tough skin." Elijah responded with a much more exhausted sigh than before, rubbing his hand on his face. Klaus ignored this, turning back to me with a bottle of bourbon in his hand. "Want me to pour you a glass, Y/N?"

"It is ten o'clock in the morning, Niklaus."

"All the more reason," he quipped back. "Y/N?"

I tried to loosen up, but my smile probably came out a little more tense than I originally intended. "I'm good; thank you."

Klaus looked at me for a few seconds before shrugging and pouring his own glass. Elijah took this opportunity to continue, but not before letting out another sigh. "As I was saying before my brother so tersely interrupted us, Genevieve has agreed to meet with us after I told her that you—Marcel's right hand, as Niklaus put it—were going to be representing us."

I tried to focus all my attention on the task at hand instead of my absent father who kept looking over at me periodically. I remembered what this was like when I did it for Cellie; I just had to get back in the game. "So, if you are looking to make an agreement of some sort, what are you willing to negotiate—give up, even?"

Just as Elijah was about to answer, Klaus briskly cut him off. "Oh, that's all on you, love." I narrowed my eyes slightly and he elaborated. "You decide then and there what you think is fair." He shrugged again, and although he looked carefree, he also had a smug look on his face that I doubt he was even trying to hide. "Ball's in your court." This was a test.

I didn't ponder on that for too long, nodding to him. "I can do that."

Klaus nodded back. He looked like he wanted to say something, but a quick look from Elijah seemed to make him want to hold his tongue. Thank God.

While I seemed like I was coming a long way, just the mere idea of holding a conversation with this man was terrifying. There were so many things I was holding my tongue about. It was just lucky that I so happened to be 500 years old. A few, quick conversations with my dad who had no idea I was his illegitimate child would not break me. Maybe it fucked with my head, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle.

I'm here after all, aren't I?

Elijah cleared his throat. "Well, it seems to me that we've discussed everything we needed to discuss for today." He stood up and I followed suit. "Again, it was lovely seeing you, Y/N."

"Likewise." I shook the hand he held out, once again ignoring the weird original rush I felt. "I'll see myself out." Couldn't get out faster.

I walked toward the exit before Elijah could say something gentlemanly about escorting me out and before Klaus could say something that'd boggle my mind even further. I assumed he'd text me the details about the meeting later.

I took a deep breath immediately once I was far enough from the compound that I was sure they wouldn't hear me. I had no idea how I was going to get used to any of this, but it was too late to go back now.

In the meantime, I decided to take my mind off the Mikaelsons for a bit by visiting someone who I've yet to see.

I walked into the old church with caution. It wasn't like I had a problem with Kieran; I just felt awkward whenever I talked to him, so I'd rather avoid him. I've had enough awkward situations in these past few weeks to last me a lifetime.

To my luck, he was absent and so I just walked straight upstairs, dodging cobwebs as I went until I made it to the attic's ajar door. A girl sat on a stool in front of an easel, painting a landscape. She was so focused she didn't even notice me push the door the rest of the way open.

I smiled, leaning on the door as I looked around the room that'd changed since I last saw it, now more decorated and screaming it'd been touched by a teenage girl. "So Marcel's still got you holed up in here, huh?"

She instantly spun around with her jaw dropped. "Y/N?!" She ran toward me, engulfing me in a tight hug that I'm sure would've broken some bones if I was human.

I chuckled, "Hi, Davina. I've missed you, too."

She pulled back, looking over me with disbelief visible on her face. "Oh, my God- when did you get back?"

"A little while ago. I'm sorry I couldn't come see you sooner, but I've been absolutely swamped. I promise, though—going into the future, I'll make time to see you." Davina smiled, pulling me back in for another hug. Her happiness spread to me and I started smiling so hard that my cheeks hurt. I think this might be the first time I've been this happy since I got back to New Orleans.

Davina was an amazing kid. I was supposed to meet up with Marcel the night of the harvest when he saved her, and so I ended up meeting her a few months before I left. She just so happened to be one of the few people who know my secret. She was incredibly gifted and reminded me so much of my younger self. I felt like I owed it to her, to myself, to be there for her. In the short time I've known her, she's become something like a little sister to me, if not a daughter.

When we broke from the hug, we both ended up sitting on the bed. I let her catch me up on what's been happening, even though I already more or less knew it from Marcel's summaries. "Okay, so if the witches aren't trying to hunt you down anymore, why are you still hiding away in this attic?"

"Well, I'm not hiding away anymore," she replied. "Marcel just figured it'd be safer for me to stay here instead of with them. He still doesn't trust them and, honestly, neither do I. They've been acting kind of weird since the witches were resurrected, but I just deal with it and go there everyday to practice."

I hummed. I understood Marcel's reasoning; keeping Davina at the church was actually pretty smart. I wouldn't trust her with a bunch of vengeful witches, either, especially after they tried to kill her once. But this attic was far too small for a little girl to spend her days in.

I looked around the cluttered room, thinking before I said screw it and decided to propose my idea to Davina. "What if you didn't have to stay here?" I asked, looking back at her.

She furrowed her brows. "What do you mean? It's not like there's anywhere else I could go, besides with the witches."

"Not necessarily true." I sat up straighter. "I mean, my townhouse has three rooms, and only one of those rooms isn't empty." I shrugged, gesturing around the room. "It's bigger than this place, so all your stuff would fit."

She sat up too. "Wait, are you being serious?"

"Hell yeah, I am. And the protections on my place are a lot better than this church's, trust me."

"You want me to move in with you?"

"Yeah, Davina, that's what I've been sayi-" I was cut off when she threw her arms around me in the tightest hug she'd given me since I entered the attic, and that was saying something.

"Oh, my gosh! Yes, of course!"

I giggled at her enthusiasm, hugging her back before pulling away to pull my phone out of my back pocket. "Okay, I'll drop you off at the apartment now and I'll text some people to come pick up your stuff and bring it to you." I glanced back up at her for confirmation, looking back at my phone when she giddily nodded. "You can just make yourself at home and get settled in. I'll be home a bit later; I just have a business meeting first."

"Yeah, sure." Davina then stood up, looking around and clapping her hands. "I'll start packing!"

I laughed for what felt like the umpteenth time since I've seen her, standing up too. "Alright, D. I'll see you later," I said, but she was already far too engrossed in packing her things, giving me a distracted goodbye. I shook my head, the corners of my lips going up even higher as I left the room.

Thank God I wouldn't have to come back to this creepy ass church anymore. I really hadn't even thought of asking Davina move in with me; it was such a spur of the moment kind of thing, but I had no doubts then and no doubts now. She'd be safer with me than here, with the witches, or even Marcel.

At the though of my friend, I went to text him about this new development, coming across a message from Elijah along the way.

Elijah M. We'll be meeting the witches at 7:00 PM at the compound.

You OK, I'll be there.

I stuffed my phone back into my pocket after responding to Elijah and texting Marcel about Davina. Seven was two hours away, so I had time to go home and freshen up before the meeting.

I wasn't nervous; I'd already been here before, already done it all, but I did feel a weird pressure to do this well. Something in me said Klaus was counting on me to fail, so it was my job to prove him wrong.

I walked right into the compound later without standing out front for ten minutes like I did this morning. I was gonna have to get used to this all eventually and I'd prefer that'd happen sooner rather than later.

I was apparently earlier than everyone else because there wasn't a Mikaelson or red-haired witch in sight. I checked my watch: 6:30, it read. Earlier than I expected, but that was fine with me. I wiped the imaginary dust off my outfit: slacks and a tight white dress shirt that I'd unbuttoned just enough to not look like a female Elijah. Resemblance to the Mikaelsons was not what I needed right now.

I was just about to pull out my phone to keep myself busy when I heard footsteps behind me. I turned around, my eyes meeting the mother of Klaus' kid. "Oh, hi," she greeted, a surprised look on her face. "What are you- oh, right, Elijah told me you guys were meeting with the witches tonight."

"Yeah- it, uh, appears that I'm a bit early." I chuckled, making small talk even though I really didn't want to have any unnecessary conversations with anyone that lived in this building.

"No, it's a good quality. Elijah's like that," she told me. I nodded, ignoring my thoughts which were questioning her relationship with Elijah. Something told me it was a lot more complicated than it seemed. "I wanted to thank you, by the way."

My brows furrowed. "Hm? For what?"

"For covering me that day with Elijah- and for saving me from that vampire that day, too," she expressed with an almost bashful look on her face. "I realize I was pretty rude to you, but I was really just having a bad day, and-"

"And I'm a vampire, so you were just being careful." She let a small, embarrassed smile form on her lips which I reciprocated. "It's fine, I get it. I'd do the same if I were in your shoes."

"Thank you for understanding; I really appreciate it." I told her it was no problem, resisting the urge to be nosy and ask why she didn't wanna tell Elijah what happened; I didn't want to risk her growing suspicious of me.

Before Hayley and I could fall into an uncomfortable silence, Klaus and Elijah strolled in through the gates into the courtyard. Klaus' eyes narrowed between me and Hayley, probably in a protective manner, while Elijah greeted me.

"Y/N, sorry to have kept you waiting-"

"Oh, no, it was no biggie." I gestured to Hayley. "I had good company, anyways." Hayley smiled, excusing herself after wishing us luck with the witches, but I doubted I'd need it.

I was good and I knew it. Half a millennium alone in the world taught you how to negotiate, how to get your way when you had no one else on your side. Really, I was less worried about the witches and more worried about being in Klaus' presence.

Speak of the devil.

"The witches should arrive soon," Klaus announced, glancing down at his watch then up at me, a smirk arising on his face. "And then you'll be able to play your hand."

I stopped myself from narrowing my eyes or doing anything that showed I felt the shade he was so obviously throwing my way. Clearly, without even having really spoken to me, dear old dad has decided he doesn't like me, much less trust me. I don't know why that hurt because I don't even want to be talking to him period. I guess there's just a part of me that disagrees with that.

Like this morning, Klaus didn't waste a second before walking over to the bar. "Can I interest you in a drink whilst we wait, love?" He poured himself a glass. "Some... liquid courage, if you will."

He's being a jackass on purpose.

I declined, "No thanks." I shook my head. "I don't need it." And I also don't need to be under the influence around the Originals.

Klaus chuckled in an almost sardonic manner. Like the night I met him, he had a dark air around him that he barely cared to conceal. Klaus wanted people to notice that about him; he wanted people to be scared. And I was, but for entirely different reasons.

However, I'd sooner die before letting him know that. If he wanted to play hard ball, then I'd be the best damn batter he's ever seen.

Klaus turned around, tipping his glass to me. "You're quite confident."

"Well, I can back it up," I quipped back. In response, he sarcastically smiled, taking a sip of the brown liquid in his hand. From the corner of my eye, I saw Elijah glancing in between us watchfully.

"So I've heard- and you know, it got me thinking, what exactly is it about you that makes you so special?" This-

I was given time to pause by Elijah's interjection. "Niklaus."

He held his hands out in the air. "What, Elijah? I'm just curious," he reasoned.

I cut Elijah off before he could say something more in order to respond. "No, it's alright, Elijah; I understand the skepticism." I looked back to Klaus whose eyes just so imperceptibly narrowed. "The reason why people are more inclined to listen to me is because I don't operate with a desire to instill fear in others, just respect." I maintained eye contact with Klaus, hoping he was picking up what I was putting down. I knew he got the message when I saw his jaw clench.

He looked like he was going to say something else, but before he could, the gates to the compound opened. All three of us looked toward the entrance to see Genevieve and two other witches walking beside her, like a little entourage.

Elijah seemed to let out a sigh of relief at the intrusion. "Genevieve," he greeted, walking toward them. "Thank you for agreeing to this meeting. Please, take a seat. Can we interest you in any beverages?"

While Elijah was clearly doing his best to mediate, Klaus didn't say a word, only burning a hole into the side of Genevieve's head with a hard glare while he drank his scotch.

The three of them sat down on one couch as Elijah and I sat on the one parallel to it. "No, that'll be alright," she said, crossing her legs. "I know you appreciate verity, Elijah, so I'm gonna be honest: I wouldn't have agreed to this meeting if it weren't for the woman sitting next to you."

Elijah nodded. "Yes, I'm completely aware. Y/N is here to make sure that we both get what we want and to ensure that the future of the Quarter, and everyone in it, is prosperous."

I smiled, holding my hand out. "Hello, it's lovely to meet you. I've heard many good things about you." That was a lie.

Shaking my hand, she responded, "Likewise. The elders of the coven are practically smitten with you. I've never seen witches so eager to deal with a vampire."

"Well, I hope that, after our discussion, you will also be more eager to work with the Mikaelsons."

Genevieve almost scoffed at what I said. In my peripheral, I saw Klaus roll his eyes—at me or her, I'm unsure. "Please, Y/N—I'm sure you're aware of who exactly these people are and what they've done. Even though you're a vampire, you have to admit it's outrageous." Her voice was incredulous.

I really don't understand what she was making a big fuss about. From the way the story was told, Genevieve used to have a huge crush on Klaus back in the day—ew—but I wasn't gonna actually use that against her. I didn't want her to resent me; I actually needed her to like me for this to work.

"I understand where you're coming from," I told her, managing to muster up a sympathetic expression. "But we all want the same thing: peace. That is the final destination; there are so many stops along the way to get there, so if peace is where we truly want to be, then we need to be willing to put aside our differences."

The redhead sighed. "I hear what you're saying, but how can we expect peace while working with these people? How do you expect us to trust them?" Now, Klaus scoffed, causing both Genevieve and Elijah to look over at him, Elijah with a more stern look in his eyes. I, on the other hand, ignored him altogether, focusing completely on the witch in front of me.

I said her name to get her attention back onto me, thus causing Elijah to look away from his brother, too. "I am, in no way, asking you to trust blindly. We're willing to negotiate; just state your terms." I knew this was dangerous, giving her the opportunity to ask for whatever she wanted, but the witches had been recently oppressed; giving them the chance to ask for what they wanted was like an apology of sorts, one that I felt they'd appreciate.

Genevieve looked hesitant, glancing at both of her associates, to Elijah, Klaus, and then back to me. Even without looking at him, I could feel Klaus staring at me, probably questionably. None of them were expecting that move.

See, because I was representing the Mikaelsons, Genevieve expected me to state their terms first then negotiate since they were more powerful. So, of course she was surprised.

After a beat of silence, she finally spoke up. "We want to practice freely."

"Done."

"And we want to celebrate our festivals without a hassle."

"Of course."

"And we want to reclaim witch territory for ourselves and ourselves alone, like the Lafayette cemetery."

"Reasonable," I noted, waiting for her to say something else. When she didn't, I asked, "Is there anything else we can give you? You don't have to answer right now; we'll take some time then I'll get a contract drafted-"

"Esther Mikaelson's grimoire." At her interjection, the room went silent. I didn't even wanna know what Klaus looked like right now, but Genevieve sure as hell seemed to have regained her confidence. "We want Esther Mikaelson's grimoire." That was one ballsy request.

"Are you out of your mind?" For the first time since the witches walked into the compound, Klaus spoke. I looked over at him to see a look of shock adorning his face as if the redhead just tried to kill him—and, I mean, was he that far off?

You don't ask for the Original Witch's spell book without wanting to kill or at least having the ability to kill if you so need it.

Elijah seemed to recover from a shock of his own, trying to calm his brother down. "Niklaus-"

"I am not giving you my mother's grimoire." Klaus had set his drink down, walking toward where we were all sitting. Smoke might as well have been coming out of his ears. I knew that, if I were one of the three witches sitting across from me, I'd be shitting myself. "After what you tried to do to my family, you expect me to hand over-"

"Niklaus." Elijah cut him off, but more firmly and this time Klaus actually listened, turning to look over at Elijah with hard eyes. His eyes flickered to me for a split second before looking back at Genevieve—or glaring, rather.

While Genevieve looked slightly startled, I saw the dead-set expression on her face. It'd be hard to try and convince her that Esther's grimoire wasn't what the witches wanted, but it was possible.

Gears turned in my head as I thought it over until a quick idea popped into my head. At that moment, I began, "I'm sorry, Genevieve. We can do everything else you mentioned, put it in writing, but Esther Mikaelson's grimoire is a no-go." I saw her shaking her head before I even finished.

"Then no deal-"

Elijah cut in, "Genevieve, please-"

"I can give you the next best thing." I caught Genevieve's attention easily, along with everyone else's in the room. In seconds, I had come up with a quick fix; it was a gamble, but if you aren't willing to go big, then go the fuck home. "I currently have a Bennett grimoire in my possession." I paused, gauging her reaction. Clearly, this night was full of surprises.

I suppressed the urge to glance over at my relatives; I had a feeling that I already knew what their faces looked like.

Genevieve struggled to compose herself, so I continued, "It's yours, so long as you accept." I understood what was happening here: the witches or the spirits or whatever were already decided, and they wanted the Mikaelson grimoire, but how could they be upset with what I was offering? A Bennett spell book was a damn good replacement if I ever saw one, and if anyone knew that, it was Esther's children themselves.

I knew the history—I've spent my life learning it. Ayana taught Esther everything she knew; the Bennett bloodline was one of the strongest, maybe even stronger than the Mikaelsons. And although I doubt Genevieve knew the lengthy Bennett history, she quickly got her bearings and responded, "I- we accept-"

I cut her off, smiling, "Great. Now our turn." I clasped my hands together. "You guys can keep your sanctuaries, the cemetery and whatnot, but in shared areas like the rest of the Quarter, we ask that you remain peaceful and avoid altercations with other factions. We're asking the same of the other factions, as well. Similarly, the Mikaelsons don't want conflicts, so we'd also like to avoid altercations in that area."

It seemed pretty simple because it was. It was like what Elijah said to me that night in Rousseau's: everybody wants power, and the witches were no different. They didn't agree to this meeting for peace; they agreed because they wanted power, and the Mikaelsons struck this deal for the same exact reason, even if that's not how the nobleman would've phrased it.

While I didn't provide the witches with the same prepared list of terms, what I was asking for would have the same effect. The Originals were already on top, so what more did they really need to ask for?

Genevieve, once again, looked over at the two girls sitting next to her who both nodded at the silent question she was asking. When she turned back to me, the smallest of smiles was on her lips. "You have yourself a deal."

I reciprocated her expression as we both stood up. I shook her hand. "Pleasure doing business with you. I'll work on getting that contract drafted in more detail, so please, come to us with any other requests you may have."

Genevieve nodded, letting go of my hand, and Elijah took the pleasantries from there, walking them out of the compound. This left Klaus and I alone momentarily.

I looked over at him to see that he was already staring at me. I felt a chill go down my spine from how intently he was looking at me, my mini adrenaline rush dying down. It looked almost like he was picking me apart with his gaze.

I didn't want him to think I had something to hide, so I held his stare. We were both silent until Elijah walked back. This time, he didn't seem to sense the tension in the room—that, or he just chose to ignore it.

"Thank you, Y/N," he said. I looked away from Klaus to smile in response, but the second I did, he broke his vow of silence.

"How do you have a Bennett grimoire in your possession?" Klaus' voice was cold and accusatory, just as his eyes were. Elijah just might have frozen had he not been a thousand-years-old; hell, I probably would have, too, but I'd already been crafting an explanation as soon as the idea popped into my head.

Not the real explanation, but one that made more sense.

I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "I met one a few hundred years ago. She died after she was in the wrong place, wrong time, but she left that book to me."

Klaus didn't look sold. "A Bennett witch left her grimoire with you, a vampire? Not with her family?"

"Well, to be fair, she wasn't in touch with her family at that time," I retorted. "And I was human at the time so, yes, she left it to me because she knew it could come of use one day."

Klaus didn't reply to me, instead choosing to continue staring me down. However, his glare was now lessened, so I knew he sort of believed me, even though he had doubts.

In the time that Klaus wasn't saying anything, Elijah cleared his throat, bringing the attention back to him. When I looked over, he smiled and tried to further de-escalate the situation. "Thank you, again, Y/N."

That was my cue to leave. "No problem. Are you okay with meeting up tomorrow to discuss the contract?"

He nodded. "Of course. Lunch?"

"Sounds great," I said, grabbing my bag that I'd left on the armchair next to me. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

Elijah bid me farewell while Klaus remained mute, but I still felt him staring at me, even as I was walking out; only when I'd walked two minutes away from the compound did I finally let go of that feeling

I didn't speed all the way home this time like I had been doing recently after exiting the Abattoir. Instead, I decided to take this time to think since I really haven't gotten a moment alone all day.

The excuse I gave Klaus wasn't too far from the truth—I only warped it slightly. I didn't know who he knew or how well he knew my mother before he slept with her, but I knew that if I gave him the real story, there was a possibility that he'd find out who I was.

The real story was that my mother was best friends with a Bennett. Almost like history repeating itself if you thought about it; Amelia Bennett was to my family what Ayana was to the Mikaelsons. She was both a mentor to my mother and me.

In reality, we were a lot closer than I made it sound. She was a lot closer to my mother than she was with the rest of her family. We were in Salem; the witch trials were just beginning, so any witch in the area was either preparing to leave or to die. She was anticipating the latter, so before she died, she made sure to leave the assets she had to my mother.

The other Bennetts didn't dispute this, fleeing west. The rest of the story, I try not to think about. I needed to be strong, for Davina, for Marcel, for Amelia, for my mother, and for myself; otherwise, everything I've sacrificed would've been for nothing.

With that thought, I had a new resolution.

This, what I was doing here in New Orleans, could not fail. I have not lived the life I've lived just to fail. So from this moment forward, I decided to be better, to be stronger. No more quivering at the mention of my father or his baby, no more getting shaken up by conversations with the Mikaelsons.

Walking toward my apartment, I made myself a promise.

This city will not break me, no matter what.

#klaus mikealson fanfiction #klaus x daughter!reader #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson #tvd #tvd fanfiction #tvdu #the originals #elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson x reader #tvd fandom #tvd fanfic #fan fiction #klaus mikaelson imagine #the mikaelsons #hayley marshall #davina claire #bonnie bennett

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yellowharrington · 9 months

Text

jaded -- chapter 3, carmy berzatto x reader

pairing + fandom: carmen “carmy” berzatto x fem!reader (she/her pronouns used), the bear fx

warnings: smoking as usual. angsty!!! minors dni with this story please.

word count: 2k

a/n: sorry for the kinda late posting, was at the lake this weekend hehe. v angsty chapter but i hope u love it!!

summary: feelings get involved.

masterlist | chapter 2 | chapter 4

When the morning light filters through your curtains that morning, it’s disappointing to see that he’s not there laying with you. Not an abnormal offence, sure, but it was beginning to hurt more and more when he would sneak off in the middle of the night. The closer you got with him, the more it hurt to wake up alone, knowing he didn’t want to spend the night with you afterwards.

When you finally did make it out of bed, you opened your bedroom door to a very not-empty kitchen. Carmy had his back turned, slightly hunched over the stove with a two pans on the burners, soft sizzling coming from his general direction. You were surprised to see him there, dipping a spoon in the sauce he was making before turning around and seeing you standing there. “Good morning. Did I wake you?”

This was certainly becoming something else entirely.

“No, not at all. Hi.” He looked a little disheveled and sleepy still, white t-shirt now pulled over his chest, slightly riding up in the front and exposing his lower stomach. You did make a mental note that he hadn’t worn his boxers to bed last night. “Hi,” he does a little skip out of the kitchen, coming towards you, leaning in for a warm kiss planted right on your lips. He tasted of butter and slightly of toothpaste. “I made you an omelette,” he goes back to his pan and grabs you a plate, but not before looking through a few cupboards to find where the plates actually are. He puts up a perfect orange-yellow French omelette, sprinkling a few fresh chives overtop. “What has gotten into you?” you laugh, taking the breakfast from him and cutting off a small piece. He looked a little flustered, watching you take the first bite. “Good?” He asked excitedly. “Delicious. Don’t dodge the question. Why are you being like this? What… happened?”

He seemed a little nervous, before leaning over the counter across from you and clasping his hands together. “I’m bad at this,” he starts, drawing his eyes down and attempting not to make eye contact with you. “I’m so bad at all of this shit, and, I feel fuckin’… I feel bad.” your heart sank a little, as you placed the fork on the side of your plate and listened. “Y’know, I was with Claire for a little while, as you, well, as you know it didn’t end well, so I’m kinda scared of all this shit.” You nodded along, not being able to avoid taking another small bite of the food in front of you. Shit, he really did know how to fuckin’ cook.

“But I like you. And I kept leaving in the middle of the night because I was scared you were gonna wake up and regret it, and regret me, and all this,” he’s so awkwardly sincere, it almost makes your stomach hurt. “But at the restaurant yesterday, and last night, I just felt…” he stops for a moment, trying so hard not to self-sabotage for once, “I felt like you just really wanted me here. And I haven’t felt like that maybe, maybe fuckin’, maybe ever.” the silence that was laid over the kitchen was loud as you let yourself stare at him a little. “Please say something,” he pleaded, his smirk curling up on the left corner of his mouth.

“Carmen, every second I get to be with you is fucking… awesome,” you start, getting up from your seat and letting your hands press against his chest. “I don’t know how to do this either. I just… I’m really happy you’re here too.”

“And, well, I just feel, just fucking stop me if I’m being insane-” you let your lips attach to his then, closing the gap between you two and forcing him to just be in the moment. “Shut up,” and it’s eager against his lips. “Don’t burn your hollandaise.” And when he pulls away to turn the heat off on the pans, he laughs at his own clumsiness.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

—

The only problem now is that there is a secret looming over everyone at The Bear. It’s like the mood shifted when you walked into work on Monday morning, and not just because you had a little pep in your step, but it almost felt like everyone knew.

You’re sure they didn’t, there was no way to know, truly, but it felt like it. There wasn’t even really anything to know, because you hadn’t done a lot of talking about anything after that morning, and instead had chosen to spend the day tangled up in your sheets and trying new recipes in the kitchen. There was no label, no conversation, no anything, so there was really nothing to know.

But it felt like everyone knew.

So when Carmy waltzed in at noon and put his bag away in his locker, hanging up his wool jacket that now smelled of your vanilla perfume, it took every bone in your body not to act like he was your boyfriend. Or, whatever this was now.

But he breezed by you easily, barely even giving you a nod of acknowledgment, and you guess it kinda made sense. Workplace relationships were generally frowned upon by, well, everyone, and the mess that Carmy had gotten into with Claire certainly didn’t paint him as the nicest person to be involved with. He was always going a mile a minute at work anyways, back and forth from office to prep to expo, and you knew he wouldn’t be giving you any special treatment.

What you weren’t expecting was his completed ignorance of your presence, as if you weren’t even in the building. He didn’t want to make anything obvious, sure, but he was at the point where it was honestly kind of funny how much he had switched up.

“Is Carmy mad at you or something?” Sydney asked, pulling you out of your coconut macaroon trance. “I don’t think so, why?” She leaned against your station and watched as he fingered through paper in the office, making a few small notes into a notebook. He was oblivious to the fact that Sydney was staring daggers at him. “He just seems like, annoyed, I guess.” “Isn’t Carmy always annoyed?” she giggled a little at that. “Yeah. He is. I heard Claire was trying to get a hold of him, from Richie,” she whispered. “Like a few nights ago. I guess she wants to give it another chance and like, forgave him or whatever.” You felt your cheeks start to get hot. “Oh, yeah? She, uh, - she told him that?”

She looked at you, seemingly right through your eyes and into your soul. “Does that mean something to you if she did?” You suddenly felt very on the spot, not knowing what to say. “Look, you’re not the first person to have a little crush on your boss okay? But don’t… don’t do it with him. He’s got something going on with Claire that’s just… something else. That’s old family shit, you don’t wanna get involved with that. He’s never gonna get over her.”

“Thanks for the heads up, Syd,” and it all felt a little wrong because now your mouth was dry and your head was spinning a little, because deep down, maybe there was some truth to that. Maybe if Claire was gonna come running back and forgive Carmy, maybe you didn’t stand a chance.

So you made your macaroons, and iced your cakes, and tried not to think about it.

It’s the beginning of the end when he starts just coming over to your place after work, instead of asking.

It’s a routine now - you’d stay late together, watching every last one of them leave, before hopping into Carmy’s passenger side and letting his rough hands find the top of your thigh as he drove the familiar way back to your place. You’d share a bowl of chips and salsa, or sometimes a grilled cheese if you were feeling particularly fancy. On Sundays, if he hadn’t stayed the night before, you’d order takeout and watch each other’s favourite movies, no matter how many times you’d seen them before.

It was becoming harder to ignore the looming cloud of Claire. You knew you needed to ask, like, what the fuck was going on, because the problem with dating Carmy and no one knowing was that you were still in on all of the kitchen gossip. Richie was the perpetrator of it all, which made it mostly questionable, but it had some merit nonetheless.

“I heard she called him crying on the phone and was begging for him back, and he was all like, “Claire no, you’re drunk, you’ll regret calling me, or some shit,” Richie had started, and your interest was piqued. “I doubt that happened,” Sydney added, talking just loud enough for you to eavesdrop. “He’s just never gonna get over what an ass wipe he is, beat himself up about it forever, and never properly love again. I think.” And even though the small giggles that erupted from the group were low and gentle, it didn’t hurt any less that everyone seemed to collectively agree that Carmy had fucked her over so bad that he would probably be broken forever. Ergo, you were just a rebound. Nothing more.

When you’re being eerily silent on the couch one night, he seems to notice. “What’s up?” He’s so innocent when he asks, eyes still on the TV in front of him, a spoon stuck into a pint of Ben & Jerry’s in his lap. “What really happened with you and Claire, anyways? What’s the story?”

He looked a little jarred by the question, suddenly feeling like the room was too small and the breeze was too cold and it all felt a little weird.

“What do you wanna know? Like, from the beginning?”

“Yeah. Whatever you wanna tell me. However deep this goes.”

He can tell you’ve already overthought this to shit, and this was something he would have to navigate fairly carefully, lest there be a landmine.

“Uh, well, um, she was - like a family friend, while we are growin’ up, y’know. And I had a big crush on her then and I, um, well I didn’t see her for a long time and then she was just, like, in the grocery store that day, when I was buying veal stock?”

You nodded along attentively, watching as he slid his palms down his clothed thighs nervously.

“And uh, we started talking after that, rekindling old shit and just reminiscing, y’know? And it felt really nice. I hadn’t really had like, a real girlfriend before that, like a few hookups in New York and whatever but not like a partner,” he let his tongue dart in between his lips, a pause. “I guess I’m kinda outing myself as a loser, first real girlfriend at this age, but, I trusted her a lot and it felt kinda right.”

You don’t know if you were prepared for this conversation, but it was too late to take back the question.

“So we went out for a bit, and I really liked her, I guess I loved her, I don’t know. But when I was locked in the fridge on opening night and shit was going wrong I just, went on this tirade about how much I regretted being with her and spending so much time and energy on her when I should’ve been dealing with my fuckin’ restaurant. And shit was falling apart and I was so upset about it all, and I just broke.” The silence was palpable.

“And she called me a few nights ago and she was drunk and yelling at me, and I never intended to be such a fucking asshole but I was. And then I kinda heard through the grapevine that she wanted to talk to me again, and explain, but I just felt… like I can’t fix it. So what’s the point, ya know? And- and she told me that she wanted to fix it, and she would forgive me, and stuff, but it’ll never be the same.”

“Would you fix it with her if you could? If it could go back to the way it was?”

There’s silence, again. And this time, there’s an answer hidden under it, one that is better left unsaid. Suddenly there’s an awkwardness, and Carmy’s looking at you with his usually warm blue eyes, but they look icy tonight. You know he feels bad, but not bad enough to be over her completely, and the blanket of sadness that is laid over the room suddenly feels rather overwhelming.

The words hang on the tip of his tongue, as you grab the dishes in front of you and step over him to go to the kitchen, putting them in the sink to soak. You let the hot water run over the porcelain, letting a few small tears fall from the sides of your eyes, into the murky water below. The long sleeve you’re wearing gets pulled up over your hands to wipe the tears away, taking a few shallow breaths to hopefully stop them from staining your cheeks.

He’s beside you in the kitchen now, an apologetic look on his face, watching as you turn to face him. “Maybe you should just go home tonight,” you finally say. “I could use a night to myself.” “Don’t, I didn’t mean-“ “It’s okay, Carmen, really. I’d just rather be alone.” He looks down at his socked feet on your kitchen floor, nodded silently before grabbing his keys and his coat, slipping on his shoes, and walking out.

You watch him from the front window, arms crossed over your chest. He lets a fist hit the roof of his car, and you can hear his “Fuck!” Ring out into the night sky. The orange tip of his cigarette creates a faint glow by his face as he gets in. The tears well up in your eyes as he drives off, leaving you alone in your apartment, before you turn away and let yourself collapse into bed.

#carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto fanfic #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy x you #the bear fx fanfic #the bear fx fanfiction #the bear fanfic

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