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thevirgincherry · 2 months

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BLIND ITEM !

ft. og re4!leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. actor au, smut, leon is an ass, some misogyny duh, reader vomits once like non-sexual context, breaking and entering, dub-con that turns to just consensual sex, only one threat of violence :3

note. comm for the sweetest ever @liableperfections / 🪩 anon :3 plot credit goes entirely to her literally had to cut so many words down it was 10k before bc i was so excited ab it so if it seems choppy I’m so sorry… 😭 ignore my attempt at navigating la.. it’s so confusing usa system is so confusing .. ignore any typos :3 feedback n rbs always appreciated!!! REPOST CUZ TUMBLR HATES ME.

Malibu Beach is a terrestrial paradise. A post-apocalyptic Eden of sorts ‘cause there’s no tree of knowledge or any apples— Only thing Malibu Beach and Eden have in common is the naked ladies. It’s the best part of both. Which to Leon is factually correct, but to be politically correct as Hunnigan, his PR manager, would say it’s an opinion.

No need for serpent-induced bedlam, hedonism is at its peak, the fall of man is in full swing. There’s more snow than grains of sand. Leon’s world comes to life in bottle greens and muted blues, water glittering like a diamond behind the dimmed lenses of his aviators.

He snags a cabana close to the shore, draping curtains to keep him safe from blinding cameras and prying eyes and drab women who are more naked than they are clothed. From afar it’s a great sight. Up close it’s a whole lot of cellulite and over-plumped lips and over-plucked brows. Leon’s not picky, his standards are not high, he’s only asking for the bare minimum. Nice face, nice ass, nice tits— It’s expected, but it’s not an expectation ‘cause that would mean girls have to try and live up to it, but most of them come that way. Well, they’re supposed to come that way, but some girls got a little busted on the flight over from heaven.

Ashley faces him, she should be careful when Leon’s around, he pulls on bikini strings more than he tugs on his own dick, and her bikini has started to look especially stringy.

“Can you get my back?” In the light, her lashes twinkle like gossamer wet with morning dew.

Don’t need to ask him twice. Leon’s hands traverse the plains of her back, he coats her skin in lotion like the finest of pâtissiers would a cake, angling the spatula downwards to smooth thick buttercream into pastel swirls of perfection. It’s only SPF10 ‘cause Ashley’s more focused on getting an even tan and less worried about skin cancer.

They’ve been hanging out between filming. Ashley pisses him off with her hoity-toity shit, someone swapped out her brains for that rack, but she’s hot so Leon keeps her around. And to be completely honest, his perpetual state of ennui had been smashed like brittle glass by Ashley alone. If it wasn’t for her, he’d still be riding the Raccoon City wave. Biggest blockbuster to come out of 1998. That’s a big feat. Competition was big names like Deep Impact, The Horse Whisperer— Oh, who is he kidding, nobody remembers that crap, but everybody remembers Raccoon City, the Resident Evil sequel that hit the ball out of the park.

The Resident Evil series is on its fourth instalment, and Ashley Graham insisted he come back to reprise his role; she wanted to act alongside Leon S. Kennedy and no one else. She stinks of money and Chanel Cristalle. Her dad is the studio head, so Leon’s kissing up to her, takes her cruising in his Bugatti Veyron up and down Rodeo Drive. They never breach the Platinum Triangle, he fears Ashley’s diaphanous skin would erode the moment unfiltered air hits her, melt off her bones in fleshly strings until there’s a skeleton rattling around in his passenger seat.

Ashley’s back is real nice. Like, the skin is super clear and creamy white and her shoulder blades stick out the same way a slinky feline’s do. If he could use anorexic as an adjective he would. Not quite, but almost.

“That feels so good, Leon.” He catches the tail end of the glance she casts over her shoulder, it’s flirty and he knows what’s coming next. Ashley’s spine straightens, skin pulled taut to the jagged bone, she twists her upper half and pouts directly at him. She pouts a lot for someone so scared of wrinkles. but when you’re this rich, the de-ageing secret is just Botox he guesses.

“C’mere,” Leon adopts a wider stance, spreading his thighs so she can curl up between them like a cosy pup in bed. “Hey, cutie.” He traces a thumb over her lips which are a milky shade of pink, fingers curling up beneath her chin to tilt her head up towards him.

She’s giving him bedroom eyes. Feathery lashes fanning his skin with the pace at which she bats them, like hummingbird wings beating against the wind. Leon is so going to get laid. Ashley’s nails rake over the sinewed flesh of his sculpted thighs, a testament to his athleticism, he does all his own stunts you know? Shit, he’s about to get the sloppiest head of all time, his dick is about to be degloved by that perfectly puckered pout, suction must go crazy—

In a single sweeping motion, the flimsy curtain is drawn back, fluttering in the same way Leon’s gut lurches. He can’t tell the difference between butterflies and nausea. It all feels the same to him. He half expects to be struck dumb by celestial flashes of camera light that gets him hotter than the sun.

However, in a much more pleasant turn of events, he spots a black whale tail that leads his sharp eyes to a bead of sweat dripping down a toned abdomen— Her belly button sticks out which Leon hates, but those tiny hotpants make up for her faults. They’re so short the flappy pockets are visible, distressed denim fringe brushing nice thighs that have got to mean an even nicer ass is right behind.

The face is even cuter. Round cheeks yet to shed baby fat, the apples smattered with charming freckles, her reddish ponytail is stiff with salt water. “Move,” she demands in a dictatorial fashion as if the world would bend to her will, rolling over and baring its belly like an appeased dog under her command.

Leon, against his better judgement, stays put. Who even are you, lady? The audacity of some girls, must be a fan of some kind. A clammy hand lands on his leg. Feels more like a dead fish left to rot on the docks. He shivers inwardly, prying sticky fingers off of him to clarify what the actual fuck is going on.

There’s a pretty girl in your peripheral. Not Claire. She’s not pretty in the way Claire is. She’s model pretty, might be a model or an actress or both, or neither. Just plain old pretty. But, it’s not plain, it’s extraordinary really. Polly Pocket dolly plucked from her compact home— Oh, gosh, your stomach is fucking killing right now.

Life is crazy, right? One minute you’re sucking face with a cute guy from Europe, and the next minute rotgut Mai Tais are not pairing well with the sweltering Malibu heat. And now you have reached the gates of heaven, fat-bellied clouds and Polly Pocket and something firm in your hand like a muscled calf. Not like a muscled calf, it is a muscled calf and it belongs to the most devastatingly handsome man you have ever laid eyes upon.

You anticipate the sprouting of wings from his back, the halo of Malibu sunlight that crowns his dirty blond hair to form an actual fucking halo. Holy fuck. You hope God can’t read your thoughts right now. Praying is out of the question, that’s like directly asking God not to press the big red button— Everyone presses the big red button, and then God would cast you down to hell in a fit of disgust. All ‘cause you want this angel to put your thighs to your chest and fuck you boneless with his seraphic dick.

“What the fuck, man?” Is the angelic knowledge he imparts upon your dying body. You feel like you’re being cooked alive, hot oil bubbling your skin.

“What is your problem, man?” Claire’s utterance comes at the same time.

“Hey, Claire,” you greet weakly.

“Hey, babe.” The back of her cool hand rests on your forehead, the heat is going to sear her skin like a piece of Grade-A beef. “Listen, man, can you just take your girlfriend and go?”

“She’s not my—“

“Leon, let’s just go.” The blonde girl loops her arm around this divine being’s bulging bicep.

Claire closes the curtain to shield you from the sun. It brings forth a wave of relief to your sizzling body, doused in floral breeze and sea-salt-infused linen.

“Aw, babe, you’re fucked.” She fans you lightly with her hand in hopes that man-made wind is enough to combat heat stroke or alcohol poisoning or whatever it is.

“You can head back, ‘m good here,” you slur, “gonna take a nap”

“You sure?” Claire pets your head, you see past her composed exterior, inside is a girl who’s mourning the loss of that cute beach bunny who ran for the hills the moment you started to emanate the smell of sickness.

“Mhm.” You nod, a sluggish movement that makes your liquified brain slosh about in your head. “I’ll be okay.”

“I’ll come check on you later, yeah? Just stay right here for me.” She lays a damp towel over your lower half and you feel like a bit of a beached whale. Like, fucking slack and stupid and heavy with sleep. It’s so unfair. Your one day off and the excessive day drinking comes to bite you in the ass.

Your nap is plagued by divine visions - getting to sink your teeth into that angel’s biceps. So life is not all bad. At least you’ve still got wet dreams to keep you going. The sun has sunken beyond the horizon, dwindling light paints the landscape a burnt orange, the deepening blues of the water taking on a coral hue as you poke your head out past the cotton curtains.

In the distance, you spot a mildly Claire-shaped dot with a ponytail. She’s still having fun so you make no move to bother her, instead you gather your belongings in a methodical manner. Beach towel folded at the bottom of your bag, cover-up slotted neatly into the side pocket. Water bottle and sunscreen on top - making sure to check the caps on both are tightly screwed on. Purse, keys, phone. You’ve got it all.

Though you’ve regained a sense of self - whatever you were going through a few hours ago that was an out-of-body experience - a tight knot lingers in the depths of your gut. It’s lodged in your throat. You proceed to the bathrooms located near the car park, beach bathrooms are not the nicest place on earth, but you’re not going there for a relaxing retreat, you’re there to unload the unholy amount of vomit that sits in your stomach like sunken rocks in a burlap sack.

Your gait is slightly off, it’s hard to navigate the beach in rubbery flip-flops, limping as your feet are anchored into the sinking sand with each step. After a treacherous journey over the colossal (read: totally flat, flatter than a brown rat’s feet) dunes, you’re granted access to the mildewy washrooms— The door swings open and collides with your delicate skull. A surge of nausea hits your system like adrenaline, pumping through you, and you pitch forward, hands on your knees as you hurl.

“What the fuck? Are you stupid?”

His voice is like the gentle tinkering of bells or a choir of angels, it’s thick and smooth like molasses, a knife through hot butter. All of the above. Even when he’s swearing the unholiest words you have ever heard under his breath. It’s him, the guy from before. And you just missed vomiting on his feet. Narrowly. He did hit you with a fucking door though. So there’s that.

“Oh my gosh, are you okay? I saw that!” The cute blonde from before has swiftly joined his side.

“I’m fine, Ashley, she ran into me.” Ashley… Ashley…You might’ve seen her on a billboard somewhere in Hollywood. Certainly looks the type.

“Not you, asshole, oh my god, Leon. Are you serious? You hit her!” Her voice is like money. Papery thin, but there’s substance to it. Makes the world go round. Makes you happy. This concussion might be making you woozy enough to feel happy. “Oh my god, are you, like, okay?”

You clutch at the wall of the beach hut-shaped washroom, steadying yourself. “I’m good, yeah, I’m really good, thanks for asking.” The vomit is gone from your system, that’s a step forward, but now there’s an ugly bump forming on your head.

“What if you have a concession?” Ashley frets, she makes no move to step closer as she would have to manoeuvre the puddle of vomit.

“A concussion.” Leon corrects, he side-steps to make a swift and graceful exit from this situation, making a beeline for the topless convertible parked a few rows over. Oh, shit this guy is like a big shot, and you almost puked on him. Keyword almost.

“Leon! Hello? We can’t just leave her!” She waves her arms at him wildly, like she’s flagging down a rescue helicopter.

“Oh no, my friend’s still here, I came in her car,” you begin, smiling sheepishly as she has made you feel a little like an abandoned puppy. Or a nuisance.

“No, no, you’re sick, like, really sick, and Leon hit you. He totally owes you.” Ashley insists, a delicate hand grasps your wrist in a surprisingly firm grip. “Get in the front.” She’s demanding not in the same way Claire is, but in the way of a spoiled little girl. It works for her, and you plop down on a leathery seat that sticks to your skin. “Leon, I’m gonna meet daddy over in Carbon, so don’t worry about me, okay?” She flutters her fingers at him. “Behave yourself!”

Shit. This car costs more than you would on the black market. That makes you nervous. The guy makes you even more nervous. The way he’s glowering at you— What an asshole. Ashley’s right, he hit you hard, you so deserve a swanky ride home.

“Are you stalking me?” He asks, sunglasses perched on the top of his head, he looks like a total asshole, levelling you up with those glacial eyes.

“Excuse me?”

“Are you stalking me?” He’s like dead serious right now.

“Why would I be stalking you?” There’s genuine confusion on your face, at least that’s what you want Leon to believe.

“Funny,” he scoffs, “real funny.”

“I’m sorry, what’s so funny?” You blink at him stony, gaze unwavering.

You, bitch. Acting like you don’t know him, like his face isn’t plastered all over California. In every nook and cranny. From flagship stores to beige vegan cafes that are frequented by a handful of hipsters and bored trophy wives alone. “Nothing,” Leon settles on, you can play dumb all you want, but this isn’t his first rodeo with stalkers.

In your hand, your Nokia beeps, and much to his annoyance, you pick it up to make casual conversation with whatever creep that’s put you up to this plan. “No, I didn’t mean to scare you, Claire. I literally kinda, I don’t know, it’s hard to explain, but I’m safe, okay? I’m in a…” You trail off, casting a sideways glance at him, “I’m in a taxi right now.”

He squeezes the steering wheel white-knuckled. You’re playing with him right now, and it’s not fucking funny. A little pathetic if anything.

“Yeah, I got enough cash on me to make it back, don’t worry about it. I will, I will, yep, okay. Bye, Claire.” You drop your cell phone into your beach bag and it falls quiet apart from the prowling growl of his engine.

“Where you need to go?” Leon asks, his teeth grinding together, offset by his clenched jaw.

“Santa Monica.”

“That’s helpful,” he says dryly. “Long way over.”

“I’m just being safe.” You shrug. “It’s half an hour, where’d you come from anyway? Beverly Hills?”

“You’re being unhelpful,” he repeats to cement the fact that he is going out of his way to be an upstanding citizen and help stupid girls who walk face-first into doors no matter how stupid they fucking are. Leon’s soft spot for girls is clearly limited. “Bel Air,” he adds a moment later, “but you know that, don’t you?” It’s in every tabloid, don’t gotta be a stalker to know where he lives.

“No, I do not, I seriously don’t know who you are, man.” Your profile is nice enough, not an eyesore, lips look kissable, you would look nice at his feet he decides. Girls like you need dick in your mouth to learn a few things about shutting up.

“You got in my car.” Leon points out.

“I was forced into your car.” Comes your rebuttal.

“Listen, I don’t have time for your shit, just tell me.” Leon never raises his voice at women, that would be a brash decision, girls hear a slight shift in tone and go cuckoo. When you talk to them all nice and sweet they turn to putty with no regard for the subject matter at hand. Could be harvesting a few organs or taking a couple billion out of their trust fund, it doesn’t matter, they’ll be stuck swooning.

“Don’t talk to me like that.” Look at you, you think you’re the shit. “I can get home from the boardwalk.”

Leon is a lot of things. He is an asshole, he would feel like more of an asshole if he made a chick walk home in the dark. He swallows his pride and he swears his Adam’s apple bulges out further than usual. “I’ll take you home, no sweat, I owe you one.”

“I’m good, I want to walk.” You are one stubborn bitch.

“You could use the walk,” Leon says, a slip of the tongue. He didn’t mean anything by that. Listen, it just came out. Promise. You’re testing his fucking patience.

You bristle beside him, to his surprise you make no move to insult him in turn. “Who are you, even?” It’s thrown over your shoulder coolly. “Like, am I supposed to know you?”

“Leon,” Leon says, and to his knowledge there are no other Leon’s in Hollywood - Leonardo DiCaprio does not count.

“Doesn’t ring a bell.” You’ve gotta be messing with him. It’s working, you’re driving him insane.

“Okay, sure.” He bites his tongue, and soon enough you tell him your address. Not the nicest part of Santa Monica, not the worst part. Definitely not Downtown L.A. so that’s good.

The velvet sky is frosted by stars, and it is a beautiful night for road head which Leon really fucking deserves for putting up with so much shit. If it were Ashley by his side he would’ve been forced to pullover more than a few times on the drive over to The Flats.

He pulls up in front of a house that looks to be made of paper mache. Wow, you’re slumming it. Leon makes an unmitigated promise to himself to never be seen around these parts ever again. The air is different, and there’s so many bad smells and oh my lord is that a homeless woman? He better leave before she knocks on his car door to offer him a good time.

“Bye, sweetheart,” Leon tells you because he is the prime example of a gentleman. “Not gonna thank me?”

“What an asshole.” You don’t even bother to say it under your breath, just to his fucking face after he dropped you off in this ugly, grey neighbourhood in his gorgeous convertible.

He forgets about you by morning. Leon has seen more women than a gynaecologist will in their lifetime. You’re another forgettable rack. That is until the following week. A blind item drops. He skims the page.

Blond guy… Plays a lot of action-hero roles… Good with women… Total Asshole… Something about harassment… Something about a full article dropping next week…

Sounds like Leon alright. Hunnigan is on his ass about it. Ashley is on his ass about it. The director is on his ass about it. The staff are looking at him funny. The room is spinning. Leon is going to take a prop gun and shoot himself. He’s managed to keep his asshole status under wraps, money and dick go a long way for girls— Shit, that bitch from Santa Monica. You were not an easy lay, there was no laying in fact. He didn’t offer you sympathy dick to make up for whatever he said to get your panties in a twist.

Leon checks his watch— Filming can wait, Ashley can wait, he won’t be long. Traffic is a nightmare, this sheepskin jacket is sticking to him - only time he has ever lamented having a roofless car. He shrugs off his costume, lays it over the headrest of the passenger seat. Your place is the crumbling stack of bricks tucked into the far corner of a street that is more litter than street.

He knocks on your door firmly, afraid it’ll knock down the paper walls. You don’t answer. He knocks again, taps his foot, and you do not answer. Leon tries the handle, he’s fucking desperate, okay? This film— The premiere has to go smoothly, he has to be back in the limelight and then you can go around making as many accusations as you please, send the pitchfork-wielding mob his way the moment promotions are over.

The door opens. Leaving your door unlocked in a neighbourhood this rough, oh, honey, you’re just begging for it, aren’t you? He steps over the threshold, the door clicks shut behind him, he moves forward in deliberate strides like he knows his way around. To be fair, there’s not many rooms to explore, not Ashley’s sprawling marble landing. From the top of the stairs, he hears your voice.

“Claire, is that you? I just got out the shower, wait there!”

Babe, you got ready for him? That’s cute, he hopes you shaved. The floorboards creak under his boots, climbing the stairs to face the open door of the bathroom. You’re in there, facing the mirror, wrapped in a baby blue towel. Easy access. When you spot him in the reflection, you drop the tub of cleansing cream in the sink basin, it splatters at the same moment your scream shatters the silence.

“What— How did you get in? Why’re you in my house? Get out!” All questions that Leon would answer if you shut up. You’re a stupid little thing, backing yourself into the wall until the back of your knees bump the bathtub. “Oh my god—“

“I let myself in, door was open, babe,” Leon says smoothly, “That’s real dangerous, y’know?”

You clutch at the shower curtain and almost bring it down on your head, Leon pries your fingers from the material as his hands find purchase on the fat of your hips. “Get off me— Get off, get off, get off!” Your spine straightens when he taps your cheek sharply. Huh. That worked. Is that what you need to loosen up? A nice, hard fuck. Some dick in that lonely pussy of yours.

“Hey, calm down, it’s just me.” The guy you think you know all about. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“You’re breaking into my fucking house, you fucking psycho, why would I want to talk to you?” Little fists hammer away at his chest, nails catching on his chest holster that looks more like BDSM gear than anything useful.

“You kidding me?” Leon captures your chin, his touch is anything but tender, a tactile intrusion that leaves crescent-shaped impressions on your jaw. “Had a lot to say in that article.”

“Is that… Is that what this is about?” You catch your breath, trying to appear nonplussed, though you tread carefully in trepidation. “The article isn’t even out yet-“ A soft whimper betrays your confident front when Leon bows his head to meet your eyes.

“Look at me when you’re speaking,” he instructs, and you do. What a good girl. “Okay, there you go, baby, continue.”

The disdain that spoils your pretty face intensifies at his words, and yet you can’t look away. Cute. Head says one thing, pussy says another. “I’m not- I’m not making Claire drop the article, this is the biggest scoop she’s ever had, and you’re gross.” You stand your ground. “You’re an asshole, I hope nobody ever has to deal with your shit again, I hope you get blacklisted, like, forever and fucking ever. I watched your shitty movies, I could do better than that and I got a D in drama class, you’re just hot and you get away with it-“

“That’s not very nice.” Leon talks to you like he is scolding a misbehaving child. Which you are. A rash little girl driven forward by noisy temerity. “We talked once, sweetheart. I wanted to go on a second date, what a shame.” He’s glad you find him hot though.

“Fuck off.”

“C’mon, you’re too cute to be using nasty words like that.” His teasing is not taken in stride, you elbow him in the gut and squirm out of his grip. Leon recovers fairly well, his fingers catching the hem of your towel, unravelling it like a spool of thread. He draws you closer, naked, wet body flush to his clothed one. Nice tits, tick, cute ass, tick, he wants to see how you’d look in a tight skirt, one that hugs your stomach and hips and the tapering of your waist. The type Hunnigan wears when she means business.

And shit. Your pussy is the only thing cuter than your face. Shaved bare like you knew he was coming. You wanted it. You did. Leon doesn’t see any other hot dates waiting for you. “Aw, baby, you shouldn’t have.” He coos, tracing your puffy pussy lips with the pad of his thumb.

“Don’t do that…” Your voice is merely a whisper, and you’re not scared, girls like you don’t get scared. They get pissed off. Heated. Angry and upset. But never scared.

“Is this what you want, babe? Some dick ‘n you’ll shut up? Just wanted my attention.” Leon’s voice is a low rumble in your ears, he drawls like a slow trickle of sticky honey. Nothing is stickier than your cunt. He parts your lips, catching the dribbles of slick that form in beads along your slit. “Jesus, you’re fuckin’ wet, baby. You needed this, didn’t you?”

“No,” you croak out, throat dry from only a few minutes of disuse.

“No? You want me to stop then, sweetheart?” Leon slows his touch, it diminishes until it’s gone entirely and you whine at the loss so sweetly. “You’re not making any sense, babe.”

“Oh my god.” You suck in a breath, trembling not out of fear, but out of unadulterated rage and dizzying lust for a piece of his dick. “Fuck you.” He takes that as a Please, fuck me!

“How about we do something easier, baby.” Leon forces you onto your knees, and he was fucking right. You look so good like this. Knelt by his feet. His belt is unclipped, pants unzipped, boxers lowered. He guides his dick into your mouth, and you really are the most cock-starved thing he's ever met, ‘cause you open up and swallow him whole.

Then you do the sluttiest fucking thing a girl has ever done for him - reach back and jab your nails into the meat of his ass to force his dick deeper down your throat. “Shit, that’s right, baby— Fuck, you’re a fucking freak, huh?” Leon rewards you with a skull fuck. Balls clapping wetly and obscenely against your chin.

You gag on it, and you love it. God, he feels the pulse of your cunt through his boot when you grind yourself down on the steel toe cap. It’s round enough to do no damage, cool enough to help that hot cunt out, and the perfect shape to part your folds and stimulate your swollen clit.

Leon slaps it on your cheek a couple of times, then he tightens his hand around the shaft as you play with his balls, try to fit ‘em in your mouth like jawbreakers. Shit, fuck, his brain fucking blanks. He’s gonna cum if you don’t stop. His hand comes to rest on your forehead, hoping to snuff out the pleasure that builds too soon in his belly, you pop off his cock, refusing to stop making out with his tip, tonguing the slit like you’re getting paid to do this.

The bedroom is a couple metres away, it’s an awkward shuffle over with his lips slotted to yours, tongue running over your teeth, licking at your gums. Your back hits the handle, then less than a metre after that it hits the squeaky mattress. He kisses down your body, you smell like fruity body wash, it might be strawberry or raspberry. It smells like pink, that’s all he knows.

A sloppy kiss is placed on the very front of your mound. “You want me to play with your sticky little pussy, baby?”

“Ew,” you whimper out, nodding anyways, legs bent at the knee to bare your sweet pussy to him.

He laps at you like a dog. Eating pussy is tedious, Leon likes pushing heads down on his dick, it’s way better. But to hear you moan like that, shit he would do it a thousand times over, latch onto your clit and suck till you see stars. “Did you like that, baby? Fuck, creamed on my fucking tongue, sweet little thing.” He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. Sure, Leon's going to go back to set smelling of your cunt, it’s not so bad. He quite likes it. Better the tang of pussy than sweat.

“Jus’ put it in,” you beg, “please, please—“

“I heard you the first time, sweetheart. Be patient.” Leon takes your ankles in his hands, puts them by your ears. See this? That’s when Leon can tell a girl really fucking wants him. When she holds her thighs up for him, and then she puts her palms flat to spread herself as open as she can get. “Jesus, baby, you’re a slut.” He laughs derisively, it rolls off his tongue as sweetly as any other pet name.

You’re left keening when the head of his dick sinks into your weeping cunt, your toes curl, and Leon cranes his neck to kiss your ankle. He runs his hands over the backs of your plush thighs, circling his hips as he eases into you— He’s lying. In his world, there’s no easing. Leon’s dick is mean, and he can tell you’ve been dying for a rough fuck. He bottoms out the second his head pops past your fluttering hole. Then he’s balls-to-the-wall. Like, literally. They’re heavy against your ass, slapping loudly with each measured thrust.

“Baby,” Leon starts, he’s breathless, rolling his hips into yours, “I swear on my life, sweetheart, if that shit drops I’ll beat you fuckin’ bloody.” That article dropping would signal the end of his life as he knows it. Your pussy clamps down on him at his words. “Oh, you nasty little bitch, you liked that?”

There’s a string of yes, yes, yeses! and then a string of expletives, and then a drawn-out call out of his name as he drives into you with all the force of a freight train. Your nails are scratching down his back, and your pussy is coating him in the same wetness that pools below your ass.

“Take it, baby, take it, fucking take it.” It takes one last thrust for you to come undone, your orgasm has your body going ramrod straight, and then your pussy fucking gushes. And Leon in all his years of sex and women and pussy and fucking has never made a girl do that. Half of him is convinced you’ve gone and pissed on him, the other half is sure he’s made you squirt like girls do in porn— Holy shit. He’s twenty-seven years old and he only just made a girl squirt.

You cry out as he grinds into you, his dick bumping your cervix, his pelvis grinding into your clit— And you sob, shaking your head as another burst of liquid spurts out of your cunt, soaking his abdomen, soaking his fucking shirt that belongs to the costume department—

Fuck, he’s gonna cum. He’s cumming hard. Leon’s balls tighten, and his shaft twitches as his load shoots out of the tip of his cock into your tight cunt. He didn’t pull out. If there’s one thing, he’s good at, it’s pulling out. Leon made a girl squirt, and he didn’t pull out. All in one day. What an accomplished man he is.

“Mmm.” You roll onto your front, face in the pillows as you catch your breath, still shivering as aftershocks zap at your nerve endings. Leon wipes the sweat built on his forehead, strands of his hair stuck to it. “I’m not convinced, the article’s still going up.”

What a bitch.

“Right.” He delivers a brisk swat to your ass, it elicits an involuntary yelp. “Guess I’ll have to convince you. I got a week, don’t I?”

“A week and a half,” you say, not bothering to bid him bye as he zips his cargos, “I’m pretty hard to convince.” Cheeky.

“It can be done.” Through another round of dick from Monday to Friday.

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

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guess-my-next-obsession · 1 year

Text

Elementary, Chapter Nine:

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

rating: E (18+ ONLY, brief mention of death, public-ish hanky panky, oral (f!rec), unprotected piv, joel literally goes feral and is a very dirty boy, talks of planning a pregnancy/trying for a baby)

wc: 3.8k

series masterlist | joel masterlist

— June 3rd, 2003 —

The Hawaiian breeze was warm against your skin as you laid in the beach cabana, the curtains flowing in the wind giving you peeks of Joel and Sarah playing together in the shallow waters of the ocean.

You felt more content than you had all year, your first year teaching high schoolers turning out to be harder than you could’ve ever imagined. It was an even harder year for the Millers, Joel’s parents passing away last autumn after a bad bout of pneumonia went untreated.

Safe to say this vacation was desperately needed.

Joel’s freshly tanned and broad form strutted up to you from the water, a relaxed but mischievous smile on his face. Pulling the curtain open, he crawled onto the bed, the coolness of his wet swim trunks causing your skin to prickle as he crawled over your bikini-clad form.

“Come out and play,” he ordered in a husk as he leaned down to press a kiss to your jaw.

“But I’m so comfortable,” you argued with a content hum, your smile growing wider as Joel’s kisses turned to nibbles. “Don’t you dare try to start something right now. Sarah’s right there.”

“Not for long, Tommy’s comin’ to take her for their snorkelin’ lesson.” His lips continued south, pressing against your pulse. “Besides, once I close these curtains, no one can see shit.”

“Joel Miller—“

He repeated your name in the same tone, lifting his head so that he could grin at you.

“Dad, I’m going with Tommy!” Sarah called out from down the beach. Joel pressed a kiss on your cheek before crawling out of the cabana to see his daughter off. He gave Tommy a wave before crawling back into the cabana, this time zipping the curtains shut.

“Joel, I’m not going to fuck you out here—“

“Who said anything about fuckin’?” He gave you a mischievous grin and rested himself between your thighs, throwing your legs over his shoulders as his nose swiped up and down your bikini-covered center. “Just wanna taste you, baby.”

“But…what if we get caught?” Your resolve was crumbling with each swipe of his nose, your legs spreading even wider to welcome him.

“Just be quiet. Nobody’ll know a thing.” His eyes met yours as he brought a finger to your seam, silently asking for permission to continue. With a nod of your head and a bitten smile, you watched him pull your bikini to the side, his eyes lowering to take in the sight of your cunt. “God,” he moaned, licking a broad stripe from your entrance to your clit. “Been thinkin’ about spreadin’ you open like this ever since you stepped out in this goddamn bikini earlier.”

You silenced your moan by turning your head into your pillow, one hand clutching it to keep it over your mouth while the other rested on his head, keeping his mouth as close to your cunt as you could get him.

“Tastes so fuckin’ good, baby,” he groaned against your pussy as he came up for air, using the opportunity to slide one of his thick, skillful fingers into your heat before adding another. “That’s so goddamn pretty. Fuck. Need to get you back to the room so I can fuck you with my cock instead of my fingers.”

A sharp whine sounded through the muffled cushion of the pillow pressed to your face, Joel’s smile proud as he returned his mouth to your clit, lapping and swirling over the swollen bud before sucking it into his mouth.

“You’re doin’ so good,” he praised, hardly lifting his mouth away from you to speak. “Gonna make you cum and then I’m gonna take you back to the room and do it again.”

“Joel,” you managed, pulling the pillow away from your face so that you could watch him as your climax threatened to dawn. He hummed against you as he sucked your clit into his mouth, pulsing against it just how you liked until your walls started to squeeze his fingers. “Joel, I’m—“

“I know,” he rasped, kissing your clit as his fingers pumped you through your high, your thighs shaking as they squeezed shut around his head. “So good. Fuck.”

It was as if adjusting your bikini to cover you up again physically pained him, the low, rumbling groan slipping from his lips doing little to calm your excitement.

“Come on—” He helped you sit up before unzipping the curtain. Joel stepped out first and adjusted the growing tent in his trunks before giving you a helping hand onto the sand. He quickly grabbed your beach bag and slung it over his shoulder before finding your hand again, this time clasping them together. “I wonder how much time we got left.”

“Maybe we should hurry,” you suggested with a smirk. Joel gave your hand a squeeze before the two of you took off through the resort, weaving through people and bushes to find the quickest way back to your room, giggles spilling freely into the air right up until he pinned you against the door of your shared room. His lips traveled from your own down your neck, his hands copping a feel of whatever bit of he could find, and with your barely there swimsuit, he could find quite a bit.

“Joel, baby—“ You giggled at his eagerness, but the people walking by didn’t seem to enjoy it as much. “Maybe we should go inside.”

“Right,” he whispered, sounding almost high on you. Taking the key card out, Joel unlocked your hotel room, Sarah’s right next to it with an adjoining door on the inside. Joel made sure to lock that door while you untied the strings of your bikini and jumped onto the plush, white duvet. Joel was grinning from ear to ear, those dimples you loved so much coming out just for you as he leapt onto the bed behind you, very nearly breaking it. “Maybe I’m too big to be jumpin’ onto beds anymore.”

“Yeah, maybe.” You laughed again as his greedy hands found your hips, flipping you over onto your stomach. You instinctively propped yourself up on your knees, keeping your face chest against the pillows as you batted your eyes and smiled at him from over your shoulder. Joel swiped over his bottom lip as he watched you shake your ass for him, his eyes glued to the jiggle. He quickly shedded his swim trunks and found his place behind you, his cock nearly purple and leaking from how worked up you’d gotten him.

“Now that’s a view,” he mumbled as he pumped his cock against your heat. He bit down on his bottom lip as he swiped the weeping head up and down your slit, coating it thoroughly in your slick before daring to try and slide in.

“Mm,” you hummed at the familiar teasing of his cock dipping shallowly in and out of your heat to get you ready.

“Baby, god,” Joel let out a strangled groan as he slipped in an inch more, his head falling back for a second before he regained his composure. “I’m not gonna last.”

“Then don’t,” you purred. “You already made me cum. Now I just want to feel you cum…inside me.”

“Jesus, woman.” Joel’s brows furrowed as he slipped all the way into your cunt, your walls sucking him in greedily in a show of appreciation for his talented tongue’s work. Joel’s hands gripped the flesh of your ass as he started slowly, but quickly gathered his pace, fucking into you like you were a toy made for his pleasure.

The thought of him using you like this just to cum inside you may have set feminism back a few years, but you didn’t care. It drove you wild seeing him lost in his pleasure, his sweet whimpers and moans filling the room along with your own, though you tried to keep them softer than usual to properly relish in the sounds he was making.

“God baby,” he groaned, strangled and wrecked, his hands squeezing your hips so hard you worried you’d have to hide your bruises for the rest of the trip. “I want you to cum with me. I need it, baby. Touch yourself.”

“Mm, don’t know if I can again,” you warned, but obeyed anyway.

Your clit still tingled from the orgasm he’d just given you fifteen or so minutes prior, and given the fact that for the last three days of the trip Joel had made it his personal mission to fuck you senseless each and every time you were given a minute alone, you weren’t sure you had any orgasms left.

“Baby, I want you to just use me—“ Your demand elicited a choked cry from Joel, his hips snapping against your ass so hard it stung your skin. “Use me. Cum inside me…and if we still have time, I’ll let you clean it up—“

“Fuck!” Joel’s thrusts slowed to a halt as he came inside you, his chest heaving, his moans turning to whines and then content hums. His cock throbbed inside of you, twitching every time you intentionally squeezed his length with your walls.

Slipping out of you faster than usual, you gasped as Joel practically threw you over onto the other side of the king mattress, your back falling against the pillows with a puff. Before you had time to gather what he was up to, Joel was already between your legs, cleaning up the mess he made.

Your brows furrowed as you watched him work, his eyes locked on yours as he swiped his messy and pleasure coated tongue over your clit, swirling in round and round and round until that familiar knot began to tighten in the pit of your belly. Clutching the blanket on both sides of your hips, you let out a choked cry, your climax hitting you like a freight train the moment he started to slurp against your slick.

“Jesus Christ, Joel, fuck!”

He didn’t relent, his pupils blown out as he continued to lap at you to the point of overstimulation. He looked beyond high, beyond drunk—he looked crazed. You weren’t sure you’d ever been so turned on before.

“Come here,” you demanded, tugging him up to your lips. Joel moaned as he shared your taste with you, his tongue sliding against yours, neither attempting to claim dominance. You felt him fisting his cock as he rested between your thighs, surprisingly managing to get it hard again even though it had only been less than ten minutes since he last came. Pressing your forehead to his, you watched as he swiped his tip up and down your slippery wet cunt. “You gonna fuck me again? Huh? Gonna fill me up?”

“Yeah,” he whimpered and sank deep into you with no friction, his cum easing his entry. “So goddamn good. Wanna stay here forever—“

“Knock, knock!” Tommy entered the room without much care, apparently possessing the spare room card that you thought went missing.

“Tom—goddamnit—get out!” Joel hurried to cover your bodies with the blanket as best as he could as he cursed his brother out. “Give us a goddamn second!”

You covered your mouth to hush your laughter as Tommy bolted out of the room, Joel’s face now red with embarrassment as he hovered over you.

“It’s not funny,” he scolded, but his laughter quickly joined yours.

“It’s a little funny.”

“Good thing it was him and not Sarah. Woulda scarred her for life.”

“Would’ve scarred me for life,” you added, tapping his chest to get him off of you. Joel obliged, pulling out of you with a hiss, his cock already fully flaccid from the unexpected entry of his brother. Laying back against the bed, he allowed himself to catch his breath.

“I was just gettin’ started,” he lamented, making you laugh again.

“I swear…I think you’re on a mission to knock me up on this trip,” you joked as you walked into the bathroom to quickly shower off the sex. Joel was quick to follow you, hopping in right behind you, and surprisingly behaved himself.

The two of you bathed and dressed for dinner in comfortable silence, your lust satiated for now, though you were sure once Sarah went to bed that you’d be right back at it.

“How have you been feelin’ since comin’ off your birth control?” Joel asked as he buttoned his shirt.

“Honestly, better than I’ve felt in a while. The first month was a lot of crying, remember?” You chuckled at the memory of your hormonal state as you slipped into your sundress. “But after that, it’s been smooth sailing. Besides the whole still not pregnant after four months of trying thing.”

Joel stepped behind you as you slid your sandals on, hugging your waist and resting his face against your shoulder.

“It’ll happen when it’s supposed to,” he mumbled, giving you a squeeze. “There’s no hurry.”

“Says the man who’ll be able to crank out kids until he’s 80,” you countered, spinning around in his arms to smile at him. “I know I still have a good amount of time before I should start worrying, but…I’m impatient. I want a little you running around. Like…right fucking now.”

Joel laughed and clasped his hands around the small of your back.

“Sweetheart, I promise you, one way or another we’re havin’ a baby. Alright?” You nodded. “For now, let’s tend to the two we got.”

The summer air warmed you up as soon as you stepped out of the well air-conditioned hotel room, Tommy and Sarah throwing a frisbee in the grassy courtyard. When his brother caught sight of the two of you, he let out a whistle, turning Joel’s cheeks red while you simply whistled back.

“Maybe you should learn how to use the deadbolt,” Tommy snarked as the two of you crossed through the grass to meet them.

“Maybe you should learn how to knock,” you countered with a smirk and a raised brow, earning a laugh from both Miller boys.

“Ew,” Sarah cringed. “I don’t even want to know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I walked in on your dad—“

“Tommy,” Joel interrupted sternly.

“Thanks,” Sarah breathed out in relief.

“Oh, someone’s totally getting proposed to later,” Sarah spoke up at dinner, pointing across the beach at a man setting up candles and flowers on the sand.

“How sweet!” You beamed, the love you felt for Joel turning you mushy. “And it’s not embarrassingly public, either. Well done, stranger.”

Joel cleared his throat and pointed his fork towards Tommy.

“How was snorkelin’?”

“Good, didn’t go too deep, but—“

“Uncle Tommy fell in love with the instructor,” Sarah interjected with a smug smirk pointed towards you and her father.

“I did not,” he argued, but his pink cheeks gave him away.

“Aw,” Joel cooed mockingly, earning a napkin thrown his way. “Hey, I’m just congratulatin’ you on finally settlin’ down.”

“Ha-ha.” Tommy rolled his eyes and looked off to the side while Sarah leaned in to whisper to you.

“He asked for her number but she shot him down.” You gasped and looked at Tommy who was already looking at the two of you. “Said she didn’t like country boys.”

“I told you to keep it a secret,” Tommy playfully scolded his niece, poking at her side. While they went back and forth, your gaze wandered to Joel sitting beside you, his head turned to watch the man setting up the proposal scene down the beach.

“You gonna do something like that for me when it’s time?” you asked, bumping his shoulder with yours. Joel quickly snapped his attention to you, managing a half-smile before reaching for his beer and taking a big gulp. “Joel, I was kidding. You know you don’t have to even propose, I’m fine just the way we are.”

“Yeah, I know,” he nodded, though his tone wasn’t believable, his eyes not even meeting yours. “Hey, what do y’all think about hikin’ that mountain tomorrow? The one with the volcano tube thing.”

“Na-somethin’?” Tommy looked to Sarah and she shrugged.

“Nahuku, I think,” you spoke up, though you were only half invested in the conversation, Joel’s reaction to your joke about marriage not sitting well with you.

“Yeah—“ Joel nodded, still avoiding looking over at you. “That’s it. What d’ya think, baby girl? Sound like fun?”

“Yeah,” Sarah nodded, but was seemingly much more intuitive than the men beside you, her observant eyes glued to the way you pushed around the remainder of your food. Clearing her throat, she looked to her father who was busy bouncing his knee and watching the set-up again. “Dad.”

“What?” He turned to her, watching as she tilted her head towards your gloomy state. Though it went unseen by you, for eyes fixed on the broccoli you didn’t eat, Joel mouthed to his daughter, “I’m tryin’ to make sure they don’t mess it up.”

She mouthed back, “Well, you’re messing it up.”

Watching the exchange, Tommy shook his head and chuckled.

“Hey, why don’t you and I go to the pool before it closes?” he suggested, throwing his brother a bone.

“Yeah! That sounds perfect. Give these two lovebirds some privacy.” You felt her kick her father’s shin from beneath the table, Joel’s knee rattling the plates sitting on top of it as he hissed at the pain.

You watched the two of them go off before turning to Joel, finding him already looking at you with a strange smile, one you’d never seen before.

“Wanna go for a little walk?” he asked, nudging his chin toward the shore. You let out a confused huff of a chuckle and shrugged, placing your napkin on top of your plate and stretching while he took care of the bill.

Down by the beach, the sun had just set, the world now a pretty shade of navy blue as you walked hand in hand with your lover down the shore, your shoes in your free hand to relish in the feel of the cool, wet sand. “So…”

“So,” you repeated, looking at him with an intrigued smile. “Why are you being so weird? I’ve never seen you like this. Is it really because I brought up marriage?”

“No,” he shook his head, chuckling as he stared down at his feet.

“Then what is it?” Joel stopped you, dropping your hand so that he could get a good look of you in the moonlight, the ocean your background. Behind him, you watched as the candles were lit, the shape they were arranged in now clearly a heart. With a cheeky grin, he slipped his hand in yours and started to walk backwards towards the set-up, your brows furrowing for a moment before it dawned on you. Freezing just short of the candles and flowers, you let go of his hand to cover your mouth. “You’re kidding.”

“No,” he assured, those dimples you so dearly loved coming out again as he stepped into the center of the heart. You followed, carefully hiking up the hem of your dress so that they didn’t catch on the flames. Bending down onto his knee, he reached into the pocket of his jeans and tugged out a small, velvet box with gold trimming, your eyes unable to decide on what to watch—him or the shining diamond ring he just unveiled. “When I showed up late to that conference three years, three months, and three days ago, I had no idea I was makin’ the love of my life wait. But the minute you opened your mouth—that quick mouth that I can always count on to tell me the truth, to make me laugh, to make me…” He gave you an eyebrow raise rather than finish his sentence. “I knew I never wanted to keep you waitin’ again. I’m sorry it took so long, baby, but I promise, I would’ve proposed to you after our first fuckin’ date if I had enough cash saved up to pay for this goddamn ring.” You laughed through your tears, your hands still resting over your mouth as you watched him fight off his own tears. “I love you. I love everything about you. The way you treat people, the way you treat me, the way you treat my daughter. You’ve been there for me through so much. I…I couldn’t have gotten through my parent’s death if it weren’t for you helpin’ to take care of Sarah when I couldn’t even get outta bed. You are…an extraordinary woman, and I am so goddamn lucky to be sittin’ here on my busted ole knees, asking you to be my wife. So…will ya?”

You blubbered like a baby as you nodded, tugging him up to pull him into the tightest hug he’d ever received. Kissing him through your tears, you found that he was crying too. Smoothing over his cheeks, you pulled away and looked down at the massive stone on the ring.

“Jesus Christ.” Both of you laughed at the sheer size of the diamond. “I would’ve been happy with a ring pop!”

“Well, I’ll just go return it then—“ You interrupted his teasing with a kiss, your arms crossed behind his neck while he hugged your waist. “So, this is a yes, I take it?”

“It’s a fuck yes.” Joel let out a chuckle and picked up the ring with a trembling hand, sliding it onto your finger before bringing it up to his lips to kiss it. “That’s why you were so nervous at dinner?”

“Yeah,” he breathed out a chuckle before reaching down to pick up one of the bouquets, handing it to you with a boyish smile.

“This was…perfect, baby. Thank you,” you kissed him one more time before remembering the two you’d come on the trip with. “I just wish Sarah was here.”

“Surprise!” Sarah popped out from the small crowd that had gathered to watch the proposal, Tommy wearing a content smile as he walked over, waving a camera at you.

“God,” you exhaled, feeling another wave of tears dawn. “I’m gonna be crying like a baby all night.”

“Well, I thought maybe we’d finish what we started earlier,” Joel mumbled into your ear, making your skin pimple with pleasant chills. You nudged his side with your elbow and gave him a wink before Joel helped you out of the heart-shaped candle ring, the man that had been setting it up immediately going to take it down.

“Well, they certainly don’t waste any time, do they?”

“That’s alright,” Joel assured, hugging you into his side as he walked with you and the rest of his family back up to the resort. “I’m in a hurry, too.”

“What about Sarah?” you whispered, eying the fourteen year old as she raced with her uncle in the grass, both of them clearly not going to bed anytime soon.

“Paid Tommy a hundred bucks to keep her in his room tonight.” He smirked down at you before leaning in to whisper in your ear. “You can scream my name as loud as you want tonight, baby.”

“I don’t know, maybe you’ll be screaming mine.”

•

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fluff #joel miller #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller reader insert #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you #joel tlou #tlou fanfiction #elementary

1K notes · View notes

stargirlsturniololover · 2 months

Text

our beautiful boys

request?: si senoras y senors by @freshloveee

warnings: well they had kids so implied smut, that’s about all talk of pregnancy

also: i feel like this cooked lowkey😭 and also if y’all like for this to become like a a series or a trope on my account please lmk cause it made me so happy writing this

also^2: i got baby fever yet i hate children

also^3: i’m gaslighting myself into summer so if y’all see more summer stuff in the future months don’t worry🤫

also^4: these are such random names BAHAHA

fit check:

reader

chris

milo

noah

dad!chris sturniolo x fem!reader

the chances of you and chris having triplets were slim.

but, the chances of having twins was high considering twins ran in both your families.

and it’s not that you didn’t want multiple children, in fact, you and chris both loved kids, but you were also both 22.

and you’d never had kids before.

and you still weren’t engaged or married to one another.

so when you gave birth to your twin boys, it’s safe to say you were both a bit scared.

even still, chris stuck with you all through your pregnancy.

you’d never seen chris be this gentle and loving before, he always treated your babies as tenderly as possible.

one and a half years after milo and noah’s birth, chris proposed to you.

and another year later, the two of you got married.

and now here you were, on your honeymoon, with your almost-three-year-old sons.

“are you ready to go down to the beach yet baby?” you called through the beach house to chris.

“yes ma, let me finish putting sunscreen on the boys.” he calls, gently rubbing baby sunscreen into milo’s cheeks.

you walk from the bedroom to the living room to see your three boys sitting on the floor.

prior to the trip, you bought the twins coordinating swimsuits.

milo was in green and noah was in blue.

chris smiled up at you as you came out in your green and blue bikini.

“you look beautiful mama.” he says, as noah toddles to you.

you scoop him up and kiss his cheek, as he grabs your face and babbles “pretty.”

you smile at noah and then at chris as he picks up milo.

“alright boys, let’s head to the beach.” you hum, grabbing the beach bag from it’s hook by the front door.

5 minutes later, the four of you arrive at the beach.

“mama, can you watch the boys while i set up the cabana?” chris asked, grabbing the cabana from the wagon you hauled to the beach.

you nod at chris as you hold milo and noah on either arm.

“let’s go look at the water yeah boys?” you asked, setting them down as they run to the water, you following them close behind.

“oh boys wait,” you call, as they turn around and run back to you.

“here let’s get your floaties on.” you say, going back to the wagon and getting their shark arm floaties.

you slip them on either boy’s arms and then send them back to the water.

you stand by the water’s edge as you watch the boys splash around.

you feel a pair of arms wrap around your torso and a kiss being placed to your shoulder.

“‘m so happy chris.” you say, leaning into him as the two of you watch your boys with pride.

“me too baby, ‘m so glad i’m here right now.” he says, coming to stand beside you now.

the two of you watch as the twins run up to you.

“mama, daddy!!” milo squeals, running up and wrapping himself around your legs.

“come play in the water!” noah screeches, grabbing chris’ hand and dragging him to the water.

after 3 hours of splashing in the water, building sand castles, and boogie boarding, it was time for lunch.

“alright i packed some sandwiches for us and lunchables for the twins,” you tell chris, as he nods, grabbing the lunchables from the cooler.

you sat down on a towel beside chris and the twins as the 4 of you enjoyed your lunches.

after lunch, the twins started to get sleepy.

you grabbed milo and chris grabbed noah as you tried to put them down for their post-lunch nap.

while the twins slept under their canopies, you and chris enjoyed the alone time.

you scooched into the crook of his arms as you stared at the crystal water.

“i love you chris” you hum, as you look up at him.

“i love you too mama, and i love these beautiful boys of ours.” he says, kissing your forehead and checking on milo and noah to make sure they’re still asleep.

10 minutes pass as you build up the courage to tell chris something.

“chris?” you ask.

“yeah mama?”

“can i tell you something?” you asked, turning to face him.

“of course you can…” he says.

“i’m pregnant… and i know it’s not like what we had planned and i know that are kids are young as is…” you ramble before chris stops you.

“baby… when’d you find that out??” he asks, excitement tinting his tone of voice.

“like a month ago and i wanted to tell you but everything was so busy with the wedding and all and i hope you know i’m not worried at all you’re a great father and husband and….”

“y/n… breathe, of course i want another baby with you.” he says, grabbing your face.

“really?”

“really, and whatever it is they’ll have great big brothers and a great mama.”

“and a great daddy.” you say, pressing a kiss to chris’ lips.”

he smiles at that as you here milo and noah stirring.

“should we tell them?” chris asks, as they peek up at you to.

“no… not yet.”

• • •

let me know how y’all liked it and if i should make this a seriesss

[tags 𖦹 @sturniolololover , @madsmadeit , @littlebookworm803]

#dad!chris #the sturniolos #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo

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avatar-anna · 1 year

Note

I need to check in on professor and H!

I love them so much. I would adoreeee a lil blurb or something! 🥺💘 xx

Hot and Bothered

where Harry and the professor are feeling the heat. enjoy!!!

The Professor Series

You weren’t going to go down to the pool. The outdoors weren’t really for you, and warm weather? Hot weather? Forget it. You liked bundling up in cozy sweaters and wearing thick woolen socks and letting the steam from hot tea warm your face.

But everyone was hanging out by the hotel pool today, and recently you’d been making an effort to be more social. That, and Harry left the hotel room before you woke up, so you hadn’t seen him all day; the only way was to get into some shorts and sandals and brave the semi-public pool.

You were in one of Harry’s shirts, not the same one you woke up in, the sole swimsuit you owner underneath. It was plain, not particularly revealing or prudish, merely the first one you grabbed at the store when you were preparing for the trip to South America. Fiddling with the hem of the lace button down, you scanned the poolside for Harry.

It took a few moments, everyone staying at the hotel seeming to have the same idea today. But your eyes snagged on a figure partially covered by the shell of a small cabana. His face was covered and out of the sub, but you would recognize those tattoos anywhere, the defined muscles beneath them. Seeing him laid out so leisurely—legs and arms spread as he dozed on his back, sweat making his skin gleam—made you blush.

Perhaps it would seem odd to some people, but sometimes you forgot your boyfriend was extremely attractive. You recognized that he was beautiful, of course. He had a gorgeous face with incredible features, but the Harry you were used to was sweet and caring and gentle. Soft, tender. This Harry was...he was just hot. Sexy. And he wasn’t even doing anything but lounging on a cabana. But he looked the way he did after they spent a couple hours in bed together. The thought made you blush even more.

Doing your best to reclaim your composure, you went over to Harry and the rest of the band and crew who were all lounging together. Sarah smiled at you and joked about the unrelenting heat, and you smiled back, though you were having trouble focusing now that you were closer to Harry. Setting your stuff down, you sat on the open spot on Harry’s cabana and poked his leg a couple times until he stirred.

“Was wondering when you’d come down,” he said, voice still thick with sleep.

Your mouth suddenly felt dry. He was your boyfriend, not a silly crush. Why did he have this effect on you still? “I—I was watching a documentary about the local flora and fauna.”

“Of course you were,” he said, grinning wide as if he expected nothing less. “Come over here and tell me all about it.”

You hesitated. Something about the heat was making your brain short circuit. You weren’t sure what you would do with Harry sprawled out like that. You looked around the pool deck, reminding yourself that you were far from alone. That seemed to ground you in reality once more.

“If you’re uncomfortable with all the people around, I understand,” Harry said, taking your quick glance to mean something completely different.

“That’s not it,” you reassured. You knew he felt bad about the lack of privacy in your relationship. “It’s just um...It might be a little hot, right? All—All squished together like that.”

Harry seemed to consider your point. “Mmm. You’re right. I’ll be back.”

You didn’t have time to utter a single word as he shuffled out and off of the cabana and headed for the pool. You watched as Harry slid in, quickly dunking his head underwater.

The sight in front of you could’ve come straight out of a movie. The sun seemed to set the droplets of water on Harry’s skin aglow, the muscles in his abdomen flexing as he pushed his hair away from his face, the strands darker than usual now that they were wet.

Your eyes followed the little drops of water down, down, down his body, catching on the strands of hair beneath his navel or disappearing beneath the band of his swim shorts.

There were no words, not a single one, to describe your reaction. Your skin felt fuzzy, mouth dry of all moisture and gaping at your boyfriend a little (later you fretted over whether anyone at the pool caught your reaction and posted it online). Your head was simultaneously empty and full of thoughts you should not have been having in such a public place, first of which being to pull Harry’s shorts down with your teeth—

“There. I’ve cooled down. Now come lay with me.”

There was really no other choice but to say yes.

Harry repositioned himself on the cabana, his arm open for you to press yourself against his side. The sensation of his wet body against yours that was nearly bone dry was a tad uncomfortable, but you didn’t care, not when one of his hands was high up on your leg and drawing patterns into your skin.

You tried to settle, tried to go through the diverse plant population of South America in your head to distract from his hands, his legs tangled with yours, your cheek on his broad shoulder, all the muscles he’d developed with this new work out regimen he’d been trying out recently. It was all going to your head, flooding your senses to the point where you had to close your eyes and try to drown it all out.

“You okay?”

Harry, bless him, didn’t have a clue as to what he was doing to you. Even his voice was unfairly husky, and it nearly made you shiver.

“I’m fine.”

“Sensory overload?” he asked, taking on a gentler tone, but that only made it worse. You wanted him so bad you could’ve screamed it to the whole pool. “If you want, we can go back upstairs and—”

“I’m fine, I promise,” you said.

Tilting your head up, you kissed him, hoping to satisfy the little monster writhing in your belly. For a moment, the slide of his lips against yours seemed to do the trick, but before you thought better of it, your hand was on his cheek to deepen it.

Harry wasn’t opposed at all. He hummed happily as he ran a hand through your hair, but when you broke away to kiss his jaw, leave a little mark behind his ear, his neck, he seemed to understand.

“So you do want to go back up to the room,” he mused. Harry held your chin in his hand, his eyes alight. “You could’ve just said so.”

“I don’t know what’s come over me. I think the heat is altering my brain chemistry, or—”

“Or,” he said, kissing your nose. “You just find me insanely sexy and are losing your mind over it.”

That’s exactly what it was, but he didn’t need to tease you about it.

Harry kissed you again, pulling away too quickly for your taste. “Don’t worry, my love. Happens to me too sometimes.”

“Really?” You didn’t mean to sound so incredulous, but Harry was...well he was on a different playing field than you were physically.

“Mmhm. You drive me absolutely crazy sometimes,” he said, right against your ear so no one else could hear your conversation. “Remember when you were mad at me because I kept leaving dishes in the sink?”

You quirked an eyebrow at him. “I was yelling at you.”

Harry shrugged. “And when I joined you for office hours that one time and you were being very stern with one of your students?”

You blushed. Harry had practically dragged you out of your office once the student was gone. Your office hours hadn’t even ended yet.

“That’s what...what,” your voice hushed to a whisper, “turns you on?”

He shrugged again. “We all have our things, and I like seeing you be assertive.”

A small laugh bubbled out of you as you hid your face in the crook of his neck once more, his skin warm once again. You took a moment to enjoy just laying with him in the sun, the scent of his cologne mixing in with his sun block and the chlorine from the pool. Your fingers found his hair, unclipping the hair clip so you could run your fingers through it briefly. The frenzy you’d been in had dissipated, and now you felt calmer, lulling yourself to sleep in Harry’s arms.

“Love,” Harry said, breaking the silence.

“Yes?” you half mumbled, your lips moving against his chest.

“I’m glad you’ve calmed down, but it seems you’ve transfered your horniness to me.”

Your eyes blinked open in an instant. Not moving from his chest, your gaze flicked up to his, blinking with surprise.

“Yeah. That’s not helping. Come on,” he said, voice tight. He sat up, bringing you with him. Harry quickly gathered his things and even grabbed your bag full of the books you planned on reading while you were out here before your brain turned to mush on you. They were only a couple hundred pages each, a quick read for you, so you needed multiple. Though now it seemed you would be starting them later.

Harry waved goodbye to everyone, and you did the same, anticipation coiling in your stomach with each step back to the hotel room.

When the elevator slid open to reveal the empty hallway that would lead you to the room, Harry picked you up. You squeaked, legs wrapping around his middle on instinct. Both of you were clothed, but heat emanated from your skin as if you were still lying in the sun. Harry kissed your cheek gently as he unlocked the hotel room, tossing everything in his hands onto the floor by the door as he shuffled inside. Clothes were off in an instant, but Harry didn’t seem to want to wait to get to the bedroom. Sitting you on the counter, he gave you one last gentle kiss. A pinch to your inner thigh was enough to tell you that was the last of his gentleness for a while.

#harry styles #harry styles x professor yn #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

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imgeekgirlfan · 1 year

Text

el paraiso de las pandillas.

Pairings: Pacho Herrera(Narcos : TV Series)x f!reader

Warnings: No Warnings, Just a Family Drama

Synopsis: Y/N meet the man whom you save his life two months ago, only to find out that he is the godfather of Colombia and he knows all the secrets you've been trying to keep hidden for two years.

AN: I was greatly inspired by The Sopranos series (about the Moltisanti family). I hope you'll like it. // And the bad news is, I may have to postpone updating the new episode of el paraiso de las pandillas for a while because I still don't know what to write next. But I have a plan to translate my other fic (Amado x Reader) soon. I hope you'll wait for me. luvvvv u <3

Previous : Next (Soon)

Part Two :

That man left in the morning when the sun rose. What was left in front was a mess of blood that made you spend a long time cleaning. And beyond that was a deep-seated suspicion that was difficult to eliminate.

Everywhere in Colombia, which used to be beautiful and charming in the midst of bright sunlight, whether it was the clear blue sea, various coffee shops, markets, churches, it turned out to be hidden in darkness that cannot be seen. Anything could happen, Anything like gunshots and strange men who come with blood all over their bodies.

You did not inform the police about what had happened, not just because you wanted to keep the words you had said before, but because of your own anxiety. If you spoke up, that man and his gun might come back to deal with you at any time. You knew very well since you met that he could easily kill you without you realizing it, and the only reason you were still alive was because he chose to spare your life.

It was as if everything in life was beyond control, as if there was nothing you could do anymore. You did not want to encounter such a crazy situation again, especially with that man. Meeting him once was more than enough.

You desperately wanted your life to be normal again without even realizing that it was just the beginning of a nightmare.

"Wow, what a strong wind! Did it blow this Chica here?"

a playful remark made by a bartender at a local nightclub called "Copa Cabana" which always happens on any night you choose to go out for a drink outside.

You didn't respond anything except for raising your middle finger before sitting down on the wooden bar stool next to the third bar seat, your regular spot. Before you could even order, the bartender behind the wooden bar had already placed a glass of whiskey with ice cubes in front of you.

"Whiskey on the Rock" Manny spoke warmly to the American customers who came here often until they became friends. "You've been missing for a while , stuck with work at the school or something?"

Two months, you thought, Two months since that night when you had to sit and pick bullets out of a stranger's man who was shot.You took a long breath before downing the whiskey in one shot, the bitter taste burning your throat slightly. You raised the glass for a refill, and Manny laughed before filling it up immediately. "You don't have to drink that fast. You'll get drunk quickly. Take it easy," he added.

You ignored his warning because your desire tonight was to drink until you were drunk as quickly as possible, then stumble back home to sleep without having to worry about anyone else showing up to ask for help. "If I can't make it, will you carry me back?"

Manny grinned with a smile before picking up a nearby empty glass and wiping it clean with a napkin. "If I didn't know you before, I would think you were hitting on me," he joked.

He played it off, but you didn't feel like laughing with him. You are still thinking about what happened two months ago. Doing good deeds will always bring good rewards; that's what your mother always taught you when you were still a child. However, you weren't sure if the decision to do good that night would bring you any good rewards in return.

You were lost in your own thoughts and didn't notice the changing atmosphere in the nightclub. until you noticed that many people's eyes were turned towards the same direction, including Manny, who muttered to himself, "Oh no," before looking at you as if to warn you–not to turn around.

But curiosity got the best of you, and you couldn't resist glancing back at the newcomer. At that moment, you feel a deep sadness that you didn't believe Manny at first.

A group of at least five big men were standing by the door, all armed with guns holstered on their hips. But the most striking one was the handsome young man in the middle, with a strong and confident demeanor, dressed in a smooth and well-fitted black leather jacket. His intense gaze swept through the club, scrutinizing everyone, before locking onto you and revealing a look of surprise when he saw you.

You quickly turned away from his gaze, even though you knew you had already caught his attention.

You would never forget his face, just as he would never forget yours, especially since he was the same person you saved two months ago.

Manny noticed everything, but he was a good employee who was smart enough to know when to speak and when to remain silent. Everything around you seemed to be quiet and tense, so quiet that you could hear footsteps behind you, followed by the smell of expensive cologne and the sharp scent of cigarettes when another person moved to sit in the chair next to you. You pursed your lips and drank your whisky until your glass was empty, allowing the alcohol to flow into your bloodstream before turning to face this man.

His deep brown eyes looked at you without blinking, his perfectly trimmed beard under his thin lips just barely lifting into a small smile when he greeted you, making it seem as if he knew you well.

"We haven't seen each other in a while."

You glanced at Manny, noticing him bowing his head and lowering his eyes. Although you were a foreigner who had not been here long, you were smart enough to guess that everyone knew and feared this man.

"I didn't expect to see you again." You crafted a friendly smile for the person next to you. "What brings you here?"

"Just taking care of some personal business that was delayed two months ago," he said casually, as if talking about unimportant things in life. But for you, who might know the details of what happened two months ago, it wouldn't be difficult to guess why he appeared here and why there were a few drops of blood on his shoes and pants.

It's better not to doubt. You carefully avert your gaze before pretending to drink your own whisky. The dull colors start to flush on the side of your cheek in proportion to the strong alcohol in your body.

"Oh, I haven't introduced myself yet." The man said it politely, extending his hand to you. "Pacho Herrera."

Pacho Herrera That was the name he told you that day. And if you could choose, you wouldn't want to know this man at all.

"Y/N"

You grasp his hand, the strong pressure of Pacho's hand adding to the effect of the whisky you had just consumed, making your pulse slightly higher than before. You quickly released his hand, as it felt hot to the touch. It seemed rude, but Pacho didn't hold it against you. He turned to the bartender behind the counter and ordered what he wanted.

"I'll have a Daiquiri for me and whatever Monada wants."

The cash thrown on the table was enough to buy all kinds of liquor sold in the nightclub, and the glasses were filled with whiskey almost immediately after Pacho ordered, followed by the Daiquiri placed next to it. He grabbed his own glass and raised it to you, sending a small smile that blended charm and danger.

You wanted to get up and leave this place too much, but the only thing you could do right now was to pick up the glass of whisky and clink it with his before taking another sip while realizing in fear that you had no way of going home anytime soon.

✧◈ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ◈✧

When the morning sunlight shines into the eyes, it slowly wakes up a sleeping girl amidst a throbbing headache from hangover. You try to stay calm and take a deep breath until you realize that the place you're in right now is not your own home, but somewhere unfamiliar to you.

The spacious bedroom is covered in soft, light-colored silk sheets, and the room is illuminated by white and gold-dotted curtains from floor to ceiling. When you decide to step outside, everything is more extravagant than before. You walk slowly, confused, and dazed by the remnants of the drunken stupor that lingers in your head.

What crazy thing happened last night?

Suddenly, you hear someone talking loudly from ahead. You choose to quietly follow the sound until you reach a room that looks like a large kitchen. You are startled to see several armed men standing guard. They all turn to look at you with stern eyes, except for one man who is sitting drinking black coffee and reading the news comfortably in a white bathrobe.

It's Pacho Herrera, the man you met at the nightclub last night.

Memories are starting to come back a little bit. You only remember drinking with him last night, but the rest was empty, like a blank piece of paper without any letters. Pacho raised his eyebrows as if he knew that you were staring at him. A slight smile appeared on his face before he gestured to the chair opposite him.

"Come sit here. I think you might be hungry, so I had someone make breakfast for us."

You still stood there, refusing to follow his invitation. "What happened last night?" you asked.

"You really can't remember anything? That's too bad" Pacho took another sip of coffee before continuing, "It's not a big deal. You were very drunk last night, so I took you to my home. Then we had sex, that's all."

The answer you heard made your body stiffen. Your pale face became even paler than before, and Pacho chuckled lightly at the shock written all over your face. "I'm kidding. But are you going to keep standing there? Have a seat."

Pacho's demeanor changed as he placed his hands under his chin and stared straight at you with eyes that seemed to be peering into your soul. as if he could see every dark secret of yours with just one glance. You were silent for a moment before taking a deep breath and finally walking over to sit across from him, trying not to show any signs of being startled for him to see.

When Pacho waved his hand, everyone in the room left, leaving only you and him alone. He slid a plate of sandwiches and hot coffee towards you, but you didn't want to touch it. The increasing pressure was getting to you, making you lose your appetite.

"Do you know I also have a business in New York? So, I get to hear a lot of news from that side as well. And when you told me that you were American, it reminded me of some news I had heard before," he said.

It didn't sound like good news at all, and you could feel it in your gut from the moment you laid eyes on him.

"Do you familiar with the Moltisanti family? They're an Italian mafia that holds power in New York. We had the opportunity to do business together often. It seems like they're looking for a certain woman. She is the daughter of Christopher, the big boss of the Moltisanti family, who disappeared two years ago. And you've been here in Colombia for two years now. What a coincidence, don't you think?"

Your anxiety came rushing back. You realized that you weren't prepared enough for this situation, you just didn't think it would happen so soon.

"You're right. I am the missing daughter," you said, clenching your trembling hands tightly and looking up resolutely. "But I am just an illegitimate daughter who is insignificant. Everything about Moltisanti has nothing to do with me. I suggest that you and your 'Los Caballeros de Cali' should not take any interest in me."

Gentlemen of Cali is one of the nicknames for the Cali Cartel, the criminal group of godfathers in Colombia, who produce and export cocaine almost worldwide. Consisting of four main founders: Gilberto Rodríguez, Miguel Rodríguez,José Santacruz and the last person is sitting right in front of you, Pacho, who is the most notorious in terms of cruelty, intelligence, and charm, making him the main face and brain of the gang.

He is not the only one who is determined to investigate your history after meeting you that night. You are also determined to investigate his history.

"We don't have any problems with the Moltisanti, at least not right now," Pacho move forward, creating an uncomfortably close proximity with clear intention to press on. "I just have a question. Will you not be a problem for us in the future?"

Pacho wanted to see a hint of fear or unease in your eyes, like anyone else would when caught with a secret they didn't want to reveal. But what he received in return was a cold, intimidating gaze.

"You may have forgotten that two months ago, I saved your life. Without me, you wouldn't be sitting here," your voice was harsher than usual and you didn't look away even for a second. "You promised me that you won't do anything to me, and you won't let anyone else do anything to me. I hope a gentleman from Columbia like you will keep his promise for life."

Your words made Pacho pause for a moment before his old smile slowly returned, now with a hint of surprise and satisfaction.

"I really like you a lot, Chingona." That's not a fake or deceitful word to please you, and it's uncommon for someone like Pacho to be so straightforward with others. At a moment when his complex emotions were projected through the dark tint of his eyes, he looked at you and said, "Maybe I can help you escape from your family drama."

You paused and furrowed your brows slightly "You already know?"

"It's not hard to guess. Christopher is seriously ill, and right now Tommy, your older brother, is taking over as the head of the gang. I guess he doesn't like having a young sister around much, and Colombia is a good place to hide from the influence of American mafia. Am I right?"

There was something in his brown eyes that you didn't like at all. It was a very gentle emotion, almost sympathy or empathy. "Well, That's close, but not entirely" you slowed down, seeing no benefit in concealing anything from this man.

"If you were mine, you wouldn't have to worry about the Moltisanti family interfering with you again."

"Are you saying you want me to be your whore?"

Pacho shrugged nonchalantly. "I haven't really thought about that, but it's okay if you want to be." Pacho laughed again, not sure how many times the woman in front of him had made him laugh today. "Speaking bluntly, I'm quite impressed with many things about you. Plus, our main market is already in America. It would be great if we had some beautiful Americans helping us out. I can send you back home and guarantee your safety. What do you think?"

"I remember you said that you didn't like gringos."

"And I also remember that I make an exception for you."

This is not like a negotiation proposal at all, but more like a heated argument between two people who know each other well. Although you two only met twice.

"Thank you for the offer, but I still insist that it's best for both of us to stay apart." You took a deep breath and let out a small smile before picking up your cold coffee cup and taking a sip. The bitter taste at least helped to sober you up a little. You stood up to your full height and reached out to him. "I hope we can put this behind us."

Pacho didn't immediately take your hand. He just looks at you with an unreadable eyes before standing up as well and finally accepting your hand in the end. "I'll walk you out," he said.

"In this outfit?" You looked at the bathrobe on his body with a strange face, but Pacho didn't answer. He arranged his hand on your back before pushing you forward at a steady pace, not too slow and not too fast. Passing through the shady garden with blooming flowers and a large pond decorated with strange animal sculptures until you reached the menacing-looking bodyguards who eyed the two of you without blinking.

When you arrived at the imposing gate of the house, he kissed you lightly on the cheek and said, "See you later."

There's absolutely no way. You're thinking but not speaking. You just smile politely at him before hurrying out of here without looking back even once. despite feeling his sharp gaze following you until it's out of sight.

At that moment, you didn't think much about it, except feeling a great sense of relief that you had escaped from that crazy situation. But if you ponder a little bit about his last sentence, you might need to be more cautious

Because no one can avoid the godfather. That's the truth that you'll deeply understand later.

#narcos: mexico #narcos #pacho herrera x reader #pacho herrera #narcos x reader #alberto ammann #narcos netflix #pacho x female reader #el paraiso de las pandillas

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tv-moments · 2 years

Photo

Ms. Marvel

“Crushed”

Director: Meera Menon

DoP: Carmen Cabana

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cowboymenace · 5 months

Text

T-Shirt Salesman Makes Embarassing Return

At All In 2023, CM Punk would ruin his second chance run in a company willing to give him everything by starting a backstage scuffle. He seemed gone from wrestling in general, but his truest believers hoped and coped that he would show up in November 25 Survivor Series in Chicago. It was a funny prospect knowing that several company line towers like Seth Rollins and Booker T would have to swallow a bitter pill, Cody Rhodes's story will most likely not be finished this Wrestlemania, and some poor title holder will lose their belt to him. As funny as it may be, I still did not want it to happen.

Punk spent 9 years griping and complaining about his time in the WWE. He took potshots when he could, sometimes taking a moral stance when doing so. For example, he would tweet about how abhorrent it was for the WWE to work with Saudi Arabia.

The tweet is now deleted.

His signing with AEW was a massive shock, but it makes sense. AEW feels like something that was for wrestling fans by wrestling fans, and the guy who presented himself as the voice of the voiceless seemed like a good fit. His first few programs were rock solid affairs. Everything was going fine until one bad back n forth town hall battle.

Hangman Adam Page would make sneak references to CM Punk and Colt Cabana which would be something Punk would tuck into the back of his mind. Then you add his foot injury, his mood began to really sour. CM Punk would have one of my favorite title matches with Jon Moxley at All Out, I was reassured that he would be back and stable. Then all hell broke loose.

Everything about this has been said, but this is still the craziest thing I've ever seen. A top star having an end all be all meltdown and completely killing Kayfabe. At this point, I thought he was done as he got suspended indefinitely. Months pass and suddenly a sign that CM Punk was coming back (again) but this time with his own show. To be honest, I think AEW should have a second show to give their large roster some time, and it has that vibe. You got guys like Andrade, House of Black, Bullet Club Gold, and Ricky Starks evolving themselves. Jokingly, it was the show for people who had too much beef with people on Dynamite, Thunder Rosa and CM Punk to be exact. Again, everything was going fine until nepotism hire Jack Perry provoked notoriously easy to provoke CM Punk.

Another backstage altercation occurs. CM Punk is fired. Young Bucks do a victory lap off air in front of a collision crowd (ratings for that show are in the dumps by the way, to give you an indication for some of the EVP's priorities). It seemed like CM Punk was gone for good.

Everyone scoffed at the idea of Punk going back to the WWE. Why should he return? The same company that hosted a video with weird zooming in on his ass to prove he didn't have a staph infection

The same company that sent him his termination papers on his wedding day. The same company that down played his value because he wasn't the guy they chose to be the main top star. It just tells everyone who believed that he has convictions that he is a massive mark for himself. What, suddenly the company that mistreated you is gonna give you top star treatment? The guy who you specifically mentioned as the primary actor who's goal was to make sure you don't succeed is in charge! CM Punk does not realize he is Charlie Brown, Triple H is Lucy, and the football is a main event at Wrestlemania.

I'm certain Punk will make good money during this run, it's a guarantee. The man who once said 20 million is enough now says otherwise. The only thing that isn't certain is how much will Punk tolerate? Will Punk keep his mouth shut as a trainer hands him a Zpak? Will Punk work the schedule he once bemoaned? How sturdy is his body that seems to be crumbling? He is in his 40s now, how much further does he have? He probably hasn't considered those questions, he's too preoccupied with how many T-shirts he is going to sell.

#cm punk #pro wrestling #wrestling #wwe #aew #survivor series #fake fighting is serious business

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randyortonofficial · 5 months

Text

title: show me something real (click here for the ao3 version) pairing: cody rhodes/randy orton (candy), hhh/punk if you squint SUPER hard word count: 4975 important tags: shower sex, dirty talk description: People in the locker rooms might be throwing a fit about the return of CM Punk tonight. They may just be trying to find Hunter to bitch about it and demand an explanation, but it’s not something Cody and Randy think too much about, not when they have each other to focus all their attention on.

Because who the hell cares about CM Punk when Cody’s husband is back in town to give him the dirtiest sex in the world whenever they want?

It was the best Survivor Series night of Cody’s career.

Previously, it was Survivor Series back in 2008. That was the one he and Randy won, both of them being the sole survivors out of all the ten participants in the match, and thusly, a foreshadowing to their eventual future together.

They weren’t the sole survivors of this one. It was a special Wargames matchup, focused mainly on destruction instead of elimination, and Randy was only in the match for the last ten minutes, but he had finally returned back to WWE after being out for eighteen long, long months and Cody was going super stir crazy as a result.

Hell, he almost wished for another injury so he could keep recovering at home with his husband by his side. The pec injury did give them some precious time together, but there was still about eleven months to account for.

Not anymore though.

Now, Randy is back.

Randy is back, and here to stay, and now he and Cody can get it on in a major way.

(As Randy had so eloquently told Cody when he landed in town last night).

“We had a pretty tough match, huh?” Randy lets out a long sigh as he stretches his arms up high. “We should uh… shower off.” He crosses his arms over his chest before leaning against the wall. His steel blue eyes roam all over Cody with purpose, his gaze lingering in certain places. “Clean up some before going out. Don’t you agree?”

Cody’s grin spreads so wide across his face that it actually kind of hurts. As he opens his mouth to enthusiastically agree with him, he’s cut off by someone’s strong arm wrapping around his shoulders from behind.

He and Randy frown and both furrow their eyebrows together before looking to the man at Cody’s side.

“Hunter,” Randy starts, “can me and Codes have a moment?”

“Just excited to see my favorite couple back in WWE!” Hunter praises. “Hey guys, tell me something.”

Cody and Randy both immediately answer with, “something,” and as Hunter rolls his eyes, they both chuckle at each other.

They both really are just so funny sometimes.

“What do you guys think of Phil being back?”

“What’d you offer to get him back here?” Randy asks. “A win against Roman at Wrestlemania?”

“A spot on WWE’s board of directors?” Cody adds.

“All the ice cream bars in the world?”

“A chance to set Colt Cabana on fire?”

“Your big, fat co-”

“Are you guys gonna keep going back and forth with each other until I leave you two alone to do whatever the hell it is you guys do now?”

“Yup.” Randy raises his eyebrows and holds out his hand. “Can I get my husband back now?”

With a sigh, Hunter unwraps his arm from Cody and holds up his hands in defeat. “He’s all yours. Whatever you guys do though, uh,” he shoves his hands into his pockets and looks them both over as they hold onto each other’s hands, “don’t make it too obvious what you decide to do with each other. You know what I mean?”

“You mean hardcore sex with each other?”

Hunter blinks at Randy a few times before pressing his lips together in a strained, but still fond smile, the kind that comes along with mentoring Randy Orton for near two decades. “Good to have you back, Randy.” He pats Randy’s shoulder before looking to Cody and telling him, “keep making sure he stays out of trouble.”

Randy groans and rolls his eyes while Cody chuckles. “Hey!” Randy calls out. “I’ve been on my best behavior for thirteen years now!”

Hunter holds up a middle finger in the air as he continues down the hall, right before disappearing down another one.

“How come nobody ever tells me to make sure you stay out of trouble?” Randy mentions while he and Cody make their way down to Cody’s locker room.

“Because I never get into it.”

“Neither do I.”

“Not anymore with my influence.” Cody squeezes Randy’s hand and smiles over at him. “Kidding, obviously, I know a lot of it was your doing. However,” he walks in front of Randy, still holding his hand, and raises an eyebrow, “I would like for you to be on your bad behavior real soon.”

With a smirk and a rising hum, Randy tilts his head back to show off the column of his throat. He proceeds to look Cody over and licks his lips as he surveys his body, so much different then from when they first got together all those years ago.

He’s no longer some toned twink with a hairless chest and delicate limbs. He’s got huge biceps now, hair all over his chest and leading down chiseled abs, he’s got that pec tattoo of his dad’s name and his logo tattooed on his bicep (after Randy talked him out of doing it on his neck), and he’s an absolutely manly man now.

He always was, but it’s much more prominent this time. Cody carries this distinct alpha-like air, he walks the halls with confidence and commands everyone’s attention…

… and yet, despite what Randy sees in front of him, he still sees that toned twink with the hairless chest and delicate limbs.

Randy takes in a deep breath as he lets go of Cody’s hand. “We gotta go wash up,” he tells him in a low tone.

And suddenly, he’s bending down onto a knee to hoist Cody up over his shoulder like he weighs nothing at all. To Randy, this will always be the case, and Cody is thankful that, after all this time, Randy can still pick him up and throw him around with ease. It was something he worried about when he started to gain muscle, if it would affect their sexual dynamic, but it’s only intensified what they’ve been doing with each other.

As Randy continues down the hall, Cody raises his head to look down the other way. There’s a blush on his cheeks and it grows much more seeing Phil at the other end.

Phil tilts his head. He blinks at the two men as he casually waves their way.

Cody waves back before Randy disappears with him down the hall.

Phil from the past would have given Cody and Randy a lot of shit for being so open about doing this kind of thing where anyone could see, but they’ve all let bygones be bygones at this point. Phil might not have changed in some ways, but he has in others. It depends on who you ask whether they think Phil has truly changed.

People in the locker rooms might be throwing a fit about the return of CM Punk tonight. They may just be trying to find Hunter to bitch about it and demand an explanation, but it’s not something Cody and Randy think too much about, not when they have each other to focus all their attention on.

Who the hell cares about CM Punk when Cody’s husband is back in town to give him the dirtiest sex in the world whenever they want?

After setting Cody down on his feet on the floor, Randy leans in to murmur into his ear, “get undressed.”

And he doesn’t have to tell Cody twice.

His boots have to come off first before he can pull down his tights. He hears the water running nearby and raises his head to see the wonderful sight of a naked Randy under the showerhead. It motivates him to quickly rid the rest of his ring gear, to the point he almost trips stepping out of his tights, and Randy has to laugh at his dramatic, eager display.

“Fuck, you really couldn’t wait, could you?” Randy asks as he leans against the tile, his big arms crossed over his even bigger chest. “Were you that desperate, baby boy?”

Baby boy.

The familiar nickname cuts through Cody’s facade and sentences it to death immediately. That bravado of a confident man who can command the ring and inspire others with his effortless leadership has now reverted back to that lost boy still trying to figure out his footing in the world and had to rely on Randy to help him through to the other side.

Cody’s mouth goes dry looking at Randy. He has to grab onto the bar in the shower to steady himself as he steps onto the tile, water gently splashing under his feet. His grip tightens on the bar and he’s whimpering out, “yes, daddy.”

Cody was really proud of himself for gaining all this muscle. Being a pretty boy was fun, and he misses it at times, but he’s at a place where he’s fully confident with his body. People take him seriously now, they see him as the leader he’s worked so hard to be, and it’s great to no longer be wondering what his purpose is or what sort of path his career is going to take.

But Randy sees him for all that he is.

Randy sees him as that confident leader, but he also still remembers Cody as that boy who desperately needs to be taken in his big, strong arms and fucked relentlessly until he forgets everything but his name.

Cody’s so big now, but Randy is, somehow, even bigger.

Randy is the most shredded he’s ever been in his life. Fuck, even his muscles have muscles. Cody’s pretty sure Randy developed muscles he never knew existed and it’s such a crazy thing to think when they’ve been together for over a decade but Randy continues to blow his mind, day in and day out. Those muscles, the arms and the thighs, oh god, the thighs, Cody can never get over those beautiful fucking thighs, and then there’s his cock-

His thick fucking cock. Thicker than any other part of his body.

A hot breath pushes past his pretty, pink lips as he watches Randy’s fingers wrap around his hardening erection. His own fingers are twitching, wanting more than anything to reach out and touch but despite his best efforts, he’s frozen in place. As if being held there by another presence so strong that he can’t even attempt to step into it, not without permission-

“What are you waiting for?”

Cody looks up into Randy’s eyes with his own, bright and blue, as Randy pulls him right up against his body with his other hand.

Randy looks down into Cody’s eyes with his own, a cold and calculated steel. He smirks before letting his tongue swipe out along his lips. Gently, he lets go of Cody’s hand and he holds his own up in the air, appearing to offer himself in his entirety to the other man. With Randy’s implied permission, Cody finds it in himself to finally touch him and he can’t even help the moan that falls from his lips as he grabs Randy’s biceps. The heat in his eyes is prominent watching his hands move up those strong arms he’s fantasized so much about, a heat that burns up, flares hot when they make eye contact again.

Cody swallows his arousal down enough for him to speak. “I missed you like this,” he says just above a whisper. “Thought about it so much.”

“Yeah, daddy did too,” Randy’s voice rumbles out as he leans in, so close their foreheads almost touch but not quite. His hands then slip down Cody’s back to grab his ass, squeeze it tight in his hands, and he grins at the gasp Cody exhales against his lips.

“Thought about this every day, you know that?” He then moves his mouth by Cody’s ear to whisper, “getting my baby boy alone again, doing whatever the fuck I want to him.”

With a whine, Cody closes his eyes. “God, I need you,” he pleads. “I can’t wait anymore for it-”

“You were pretty fucking obvious about it out there,” Randy scoffs. “You were calling the shots out there just fine earlier. Telling everyone what to do, taking charge and taking names and all of a sudden I walk out there…” He bites at Cody’s earlobe to drag it out with his teeth, and as Cody moans, Randy is fully pressing their foreheads together. “... you turn right back into a slut for me. And you let everyone knew it too, I fucking saw you spreading your legs out there when I gave that RKO to JD-”

“I-I couldn’t help it, daddy.” Cody’s hands move over Randy’s shoulders and down his broad pecs. “Reminded me what it was like… all those years ago in Legacy…”

His hands continue downwards over his abs. Twitching fingers run along the ridges of Randy’s muscles and press into the skin just to feel how firm and hard they are. Cody bites back his moan at first before deciding to let it out, because it’s just the both of them here in this shower and he has no reason to hide how much he wants the much bigger man in front of him. Sure, they could just do this back on Cody’s tour bus, but where’s the fun in that? Why do it there when they can do it here, just like old times?

“Back when I had no idea what I was doing,” Cody chuckles quietly. “And I just followed your every word. Watched your every action. Trusted you, at every second, to take care of me…” And as his hands roam back up to grip tight at Randy’s shoulders, he looks back into his eyes before telling him, a low voice that drips with desire, “begging for you to take me.”

In an instant, Randy has his hand pressing Cody to the wall by his throat. It has Cody gasping out for air and darkens his eyes so much so that you can’t even make out the bright blue anymore, eyes now a mystifying shade of absolute lust.

Randy bites his lip as his eyes encircle Cody’s features. Those mystifying eyes and those pretty, pink, and naturally pouty lips. There’re crinkles at the corners of Cody’s eyes now, a fact of getting older, and his life experiences show better over his features, no longer that perfect babyface from years ago, at least not in appearance’s sake, but in state of mind, this will always be the core of who Cody is.

Doesn’t matter how many press conferences Cody does, how many suits he wears, or how many people he’s able to lead, because he will always bow down to Randy Orton.

Then, now, and until the end of time.

Cody watches Randy with baited breath, eyes as dark as the night that they’re heading for together. He can barely focus because he’s so aching hard and dying for Randy to soothe the pain that came from waiting for him to come back, waiting month after month after month, fuck, so many of them and it seemed never ending, just like the building anticipation between them in this shower.

Randy narrows his eyes. “And that’s what you want, isn’t it?” he asks quietly. “For me to take you again?”

Cody swallows heavily. He nods as best he can. “More than anything, daddy.”

“Well, you don’t gotta worry anymore, baby,” Randy murmurs as he begins to lean in. “Cause daddy’s back home…”

Although he takes Cody’s lips so ruthlessly, it is done with great care. Randy is taking whatever his heart desires, but it just so happens that Cody’s heart wants the same exact. It’s just the way Cody likes it when it’s been as long as it has - powerful, insistent, and so sloppy that it makes even the most experienced people blush.

Layers of steam shroud their bodies as the hot water rains down, which besides the benefit of adding to the growing atmosphere of lust, provides much relief to their sore bodies from earlier in the night. The droplets steadily roll down their wet skin, it drips down Randy’s pec and onto Cody’s stomach and it’s just wonderful how they’re so connected right now. Their tongues are eagerly rolling over each other’s mouths, slipping past the plush lines to dance within, and they’re biting too, biting and sucking, licking and pressing, gasping and moaning in between.

As far as Cody and Randy are concerned, they have the whole night to show each other just how much they’ve missed one another.

It’s not certain how long it’s been when they pull away, and it’s just barely. Cody rolls his lips back between his teeth as his eyes dip to Randy’s lips, and his breath hitches when Randy wipes his tongue out. Randy gives Cody’s throat one more squeeze before his hands latch onto his hips, and then he’s leaning forward to sink his teeth into Cody’s neck. It pulls a loud gasp from Cody’s lips, his eyes widening before they flutter shut, and his head rolls off to the side as Randy begins to suck at his skin.

Once.

Twice.

After the third time, however, Randy is pressing his tongue to the column of Cody’s throat to tantalizingly lick all the way up to Cody’s lips, though he doesn’t kiss him again. He just lets his breath hotly ghost out over Cody’s mouth and Cody is whining out loud because fuck, Randy’s lips are right there, what the fuck is he trying to pull? Why is he depriving him, depriving them?

“I wanna see that mouth get put to work, boy,” Randy drawls. “Understand?”

Cody’s eyes light up immensely.

He can’t remember the last time he’s wanted to suck off Randy so bad. Fuck, he can’t remember when he’s wanted anything ever in his life so bad.

A nod from Cody is all Randy needs to growl at him, “good. Show me what those pretty, dick-sucking lips of yours can do.”

And then Randy is gripping tight at Cody’ hair to force him down onto his knees. He’s pulling Cody’s face forward and thrusts against his lip with a groan, and Cody is moaning as he sticks out his tongue to curl around the head. He lids his eyes open at the other man and grabs onto his hips, nail pressing into the skin.

“C’mon, I don’t got all day,” Randy warns. “Take me in, now.”

Cody doesn’t protest, doesn’t say a word as he licks right up Randy’s shaft before taking him in, all the way. Randy lets out a loud moan, eyes closing and his head lulling back.

“Fuck.” Randy’s fingers thread back into Cody’s blonde threads. “Holy fuck, Cody, that’s it.”

He’s moaning, over and over, as he quickly moves his mouth. The heady taste of Randy’s musk, that tinge of saltiness and ounces of sweetness drive Cody crazy. Randy carries just a little bit of everything to keep Cody coming back for more, and he decides to deepthroat him again, and again, and again, with relative ease.

Cody’s letting all the fantasies he’s had about their reunion guide his movements. His hands can’t help but to wander over Randy’s firm, sculpted abs and he moans feeling how hard he is under his fingertips. The knowledge of what a big, powerful man he’s somehow managed to marry sends flares of arousal throughout his body, causes his hole to clench around the nothing, and he’s whining out after pulling to the tip.

“Fuck, I missed my daddy.”

“Miss him telling you what to do?” Randy breathes out as he yanks Cody back by his hair to stare down into those beautiful eyes. “Making you do what he wants?”

“Can you fuck my mouth?” Cody asks so sweet. “Please, can you fuck it? Use me? Please?”

“Fuck yeah, I can,” Randy groans out, steadying Cody’s head with one hand as the other steadies his cock at the base to rub it along Cody’s pretty lips. Randy moans as Cody gives the tip a little suckle, because Cody can’t fucking help himself when Randy tastes so good, better than anyone and anything. “Yeah, open up wide for your daddy, baby boy…”

The moaning Cody gives is muffled as Randy pushes past his lips to sink his cock down his throat. He has no time to even grab at Randy to keep himself grounded before Randy is grabbing both of his wrists to pin them high up on the shower tile.

“Take it, Cody, be a good boy and take it,” Randy growls at him as he sinks his nails into Cody’s wrists. Cody is gagging around Randy as Randy continues to push in, but when he can’t anymore, he starts to swivel his hips around, moaning as he does so.

Cody is settled on his knees, right at Randy’s mercy. He is helpless as Randy keeps him pinned to the wall by his wrists, and he only needs one hand to do so. One hand practically crushes his wrists in their grip as the other hand threads right back into his hair to tug at the strands, and it makes his scalp burn but only in the best way, as it always is with Randy.

He’s using Cody just like Cody wants. No regard for his being (at least on the surface) and using his mouth solely as a vehicle for his own pleasure. Cody can’t even move, the only thing he really can do is gag around Randy everytime he pushes in too far or flex his fingers, maybe even tense his thighs. Sometimes, he looks up to Randy and even through the tears beading at the corners of his eyes, it’s clear to him how much Randy is enjoying his velvety hot mouth.

As Randy continues to fuck his throat raw, all Cody can think about is being a good boy for him. Being a good hole and letting Randy take him, wreck him, and destroy him, just like he did all those years ago, because things never really do change, don’t they?

With a loud groan, Randy pulls Cody down all the way and swivels his hips once more. He tugs at Cody’s hair and begins to pull him to the tip, and with the way Randy’s breathing is getting, Cody can tell he’s about halfway there. It means he has other ideas in mind, and in all of Cody’s excitement and hopefulness, he’s whining out at his beloved, “I’ve been wanting you, Randy, I’ve always fucking wanted you, god, I need you to give it to me, I need you to just fuck me and I’ll be a good boy, I’ll always be a good boy, please Randy, please daddy, please, please, please-”

“God fucking damn, Cody,” Randy huffs out a laugh as he looks up to the ceiling. He shakes his head in amazement. “Thirteen fucking years, and you’re still as much of a desperate slut like you were the first time. You’re fucking perfect, you know that?”

The praise has Cody giving a little trill. “I am?”

“Always. Now get the fuck up and turn your pretty little ass around, boy.”

The moment Randy removes his hands from him, Cody is instantly scrambling against the wall to pull himself up to his feet. He goes to turn around but Randy is doing the honors for him, easily turning Cody to shove him up against the wall and grabbing at his hips to pull him back so his ass can present itself.

His ass is actually much bigger than it was in the past. There’s much more meat to it, and it’s obvious in any pants he wears, or right now, what he doesn’t wear. It grew with him like his muscles, and Randy has always been so appreciative and supportive of the work Cody has put into his body. They got together when Cody was leaned and toned, more of a pretty boy than the obvious manly man he now is, but Randy still treats Cody the same way he did all those years ago.

And right now, Cody is so thankful for that.

It hurts when Randy pushes into him, but it’s what he expected, what he needed. Cody needs that pain, the excruciating stretch, the heat of Randy’s hands on his body to keep his back arched so pretty as the water continue to cascade over them from above. Randy pulls out to the tip just to slowly push all the way back in and Cody’s eyes almost roll into the back of his head as he lets out a long, and almost whiny moan out into the open.

“That’s it,” Randy murmurs as he continues with his movements - slow, but each thrust packing a hard punch. “Taking me so good, baby boy. Doesn’t matter how many times I fuck you, you’re always gonna be tight for your daddy, huh? The perfect fit?”

Cody whimpers and nods. “A-Always, daddy-”

He gasps as Randy grabs his throat from behind. His eyes fall shut and he doesn’t move a muscle as Randy leads him up to stand up a bit more, until they’re both standing up straight. Randy’s breath is ghosting over his ear, hot air expelling from his mouth in short bursts as he breathes in and out.

“You said you were always gonna be good for me, right?” Randy grumbles into his ear.

“Always,” Cody whispers. “Wouldn’t be anything else.”

Randy’s lips slowly widen into a proud smirk. “Good boy,” he whispers in turn before kissing Cody’s cheek. “Daddy loves you, you know that?”

“I-I love you too-”

Cody’s voice cracks when Randy squeezes his throat. He’s gasping out for air before Randy spanks him, the sound cracking throughout, and he’s crying out right as Randy begins to give it him with all the strength he has and fuck, is there so much of it. If it was Cody from years ago, he might even say it’s too much but he can take whatever Randy throws at him now.

Randy is brutally hammering away into Cody, hand under Cody’s chin and over his throat, fingers almost crushing Cody’s jaw with the kind of hold he’s adopted. It hurts, god, it hurts, it’s never hurt like this before, but it’s never felt so damn good like this either.

Cody is a willing slave to Randy’s desires. He has no more theory of mind, no thoughts beyond RandyRandyRandy and please more and daddydaddydaddy, he is a mere shell, a being comprised of all of Randy’s dirtiest fantasies and he can’t think of a sweeter fate. He cries out with each slam of Randy’s hips, over and over again. Even with his eyes screwed so tightly shut, the tears manage to find their way out to roll down his cheeks. Randy is truly giving him everything and it’s shocking, tragic even, that none of the men Cody has been with could ever induce this in him. All of this wonderful sex, the best sex in the world, locked behind the closet of a straight man that only Cody held the key for.

“Oh my - fuck - R-Randy, Randy,” Cody sobs, “Randy, please-”

“Yeah, say my fucking name,” Randy growls. “You like this, baby? You like being used like a fucking slut?”

“Yes, daddy, just your slut, daddy,” Cody gasps.

“Want daddy to fill you up? Give you his come, is that what you want, baby boy, huh? Is it what you need?”

“Need it, daddy, please, need your come-”

“I bet you fucking need it, you little whore,” he growls out as his other hand pulls one of Cody’s back to keep it behind Cody’ back, grip on Cody’s wrist so hard it’s pressing against bone, and it hurts, it’ll leave bruises with all the others that are forming on Cody, and Cody loves it, fuck, he welcomes it.

He loves everything Randy does to him, and he loves it even more when Randy fills him up with a long and loud groan. His wrist and chin hurt like fucking hell, to the point it makes him wanna cry, but it’s what he needs, he needs to be dominated, to be told what to do and not given a choice because this is what he knows so intimately.

Despite everything that’s happened in his life, and all Cody has gone through, this is where he feels the most comfort. It’s how he can escape from the responsibilities he has now. No thoughts beyond letting Randy take control of him, take care of him, he gets to let Randy call all the shot and he can go back to being that lost boy still trying to figure out his footing in the world, the boy who had to rely on Randy to help him through to the other side.

Cody comes along with Randy, the both of them pretty much in sync now with the amount of times they’ve fucked at this point. Randy’s grip on Cody begins to loosen in the wondrous afterglow of their shared orgasms, and the gentle, butterfly kisses he trails over Cody’s neck and shoulders is a welcomed juxtaposition to his harsh treatment mere minutes ago. Cody’s shoulders slump with relaxation under the kisses and he flexes his fingers in appreciation for the newfound freedom. Randy’s hands are kneading his sides in soothing ministrations and after letting his lips graze up Cody’s neck to his ear, he whispers, “I really missed you, Cody.”

Cody tilts his head to the side. He lets out a long sigh, just to get his breath back, and is able to muster a smile. “You think being all soft now will make up for the way you fucked me just now?”

A chuckle rumbles up from Randy’s throat. “Abso-fuckin-lutely,” he drawls. “Is it working?”

After pressing a gentle kiss to his husband’s lips, Cody tells him, “yeah. It really is.”

#candy #my fics #enjoy bc god know i did

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mysteryideasgroup · 7 months

Text

Msa x Vortex Point AU Crossover

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Mystery Skulls Teams/Groups/Gangs

Lewis Pepper (Human/Ghost), Vivi Yukino, Arthur Kingsmen, and Mystery the Dog/Kitsune

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Mystery Teams/Groups/Gangs (ocs sonas)

Girls’ Clues Club Teams/Groups/Gangs

Sarah Cabanas, Sapphire the Dog/Kitsune and Samantha the Polter Dog/Kitsune, Laura Sanchez and Sardonyx the Polter Cat

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The Sector Mystery Teams/Groups/Gangs

Bart Minnie (Human/Ghost), Matilda Weld, Josh Rivas, Miles the Dog/Kitsune, Molly the Dog/Kitsune, Jaxson the Dog/Kitsune, Eve Rosebell (Human/Ghost), Ava Lee and Darling the Dog (Cavalier King Charles Spaniel)

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Mystery Ideas Teams/Groups/Gangs

Cera Minnie (Human/Ghost), Mike Weld, Ecole Rivas, and Misti the Dog/Kitsune

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The Amazing Mystery Teams/Groups/Gangs

Lewon Minnie (Human/Ghost), Viana Weld, Arther Rivas, Myisha the Dog/Kitsune

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Mystery Hunters Teams/Groups/Gangs

Lewinn Minnie (Human/Ghost), Vicki Weld, Albert Rivas, Mira the Dog/Kitsune

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Mystery Slayers Teams/Groups/Gangs

Landon Minnie (Human/Ghost), Vera Weld, Aaron Rivas, Maren the Dog/Kitsune, Alden the Dog/Kitsune

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The Mystery Saviours 10 Teams Teams/Groups/Gangs

Miguel, Connie, Sammy, Dorothy, Ethan, Buster, Chelsea, Adrien, Nathan, Minnie

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Vortex Point Teams/Groups/Gangs

Kevin, Craig, and Caroline

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For @laurasanchez36

Crossovers of AUs Alternate Universes belongs to me

AUs Alternate Universes Crossovers belongs to me

AUs Alternate Universes and Crossovers belongs to me

Mystery Teams/Groups/Gangs belongs to my msa ocs sonas Teams/Groups/Gangs

Mystery Teams/Groups/Gangs belongs to her msa ocs sonas Teams/Groups/Gangs

Mystery Teams/Groups/Gangs Paranormal Investigators belongs to my new msa ocs sonas Teams/Groups/Gangs

Mystery Skulls Animated belongs to Ben and MysteryBen27 of YT Series

Vortex Point Games belongs to Carmel Games of Mousecity Games

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literatureatthebowofnails · 1 year

Text

A/N: Apologies for another long wait. I thought I was going to post a few days ago, but my muse insisted the final scene I'd written was insufficient. It has since been remedied. I love you like Cap loves America!

Series masterlist

Pairing: Loki x reader

Warnings: Smut, drinking

Summary: Our couple takes their first trip together

Cherry blossoms drift lazily downward as you nibble cheese and sip champagne from lemonade bottles. Lounging on your picnic blanket, you watch goslings paddle after their parents beneath Bow Bridge. A scurry of juvenile squirrels dashes up trunks and around branches, disturbing a woodpecker in search of his lunch.

"I have something for you," Loki says as you bite into a slice of apple. A wrapped box appears near your lap with a green glow.

"Oooo," you pull back the paper, opening it to reveal a black and green bikini. "What's this for?"

"I've booked us a trip to Cozumel for your Memorial Day weekend," he grins.

☕

You step off the plane and into the warm Mexican sunshine. A salty breeze toys with your skirt and hair as you follow Loki down to the tarmac. Within an hour, you're checked-in, unpacked, and carrying your beach bag to the shore.

The picturesque Caribbean laps at the white sands and you settle into a lounge chair. A mariachi band plays on a low wooden stage, accompanied by the occasional trills and squawks of vibrant birds.

You methodically apply your sunscreen as the dark-haired prince stretches his long limbs out beside you. A cabana boy takes your order and returns with fresh margaritas and a plate of lime-caressed papaya.

"Could you?" you ask, looking over your shoulder at the lounging god.

"Of course, darling," he takes the bottle. "Why don't you lie down."

You adjust the seat to rest on your stomach, cradling your chin against your arms. Loki kneels beside you in the sand, his fingers expertly searching out every kink and knot as he massages the creamy protection into your skin. "Mmmm," you let out a pleasured groan. "That feels good."

"This is nothing compared to what I have planned for you," he grins, giving you a kiss before recapping the bottle.

☕

As the sun slips below the horizon, you return to your room. Flip-flops kicked off at the door, the beach bag tossed on the bed, and Loki is at your back as you reach the shower. He tugs the string around your neck, revealing your chest as you switch the water on. You turn to face him and untie the other bow, letting the top fall on the tile.

He cups your breasts, grazing over your nipples as you back him into the vanity. You shudder at the sensation and lean in to suck his lower lip between your teeth. Your thumbs slide beneath the elastic at his waist. His cock springs to attention as his trunks join your top on the floor.

"Mmm," he nips your neck. "I do love it when you're needy, darling."

"Oh, do you?" you roll down your bottoms, kicking them free of your ankles. "Prove it."

In an instant he scoops you up, pinning you against the cold shower wall. Hot water rains over you, dousing your hair and running rivulets along his chest and abs. A large hand protects the back of your head as he crashes against your lips, groaning when you grasp his pulsing need.

He thrusts against your palm, a hand kneading your breast. Sinking down, he takes a nipple in his mouth. Your back arches, one hand against the marble, the other in his hair.

He pinches your nipples, rolling them between his digits and continues his trail of kisses down your front as you keen. His head shifts lower, his mouth reaching the crease of your legs. They part for him without thought and he nuzzles against your mound, inhaling the scent of you.

He pulls a leg over his shoulder and grips your thigh, delving ravenously between your folds, lapping at your juices, sucking at your lips and clit until your knee buckles. A whine of his name builds in your throat, the hand on your breast the only thing keeping you vertical as your fingers wind tight in his raven locks.

You buck into him, and his digits find your entrance, slipping past and curling until you give a stifled scream. Your orgasm crashes over you in waves. As it subsides, he keeps them buried in you, slowly pumping and scissoring.

He stands, spreading long fingers to guide his girth between them. You gasp as you stretch around him, the slick of your release easing his entrance as he gives a few shallow thrusts.

He pulls your knees over his elbows one at a time, each defined muscle flexing under his glistening skin has you fluttering around him. You slide your hands around his neck and up into his hair, pulling his head back to nip his collarbone. He hisses at the sensation, setting an emphatic rhythm as you moan against his neck.

Heat floods your core, and you feel the tug like a rollercoaster drop. You press your head against the tile, cunt pulsing and spasming as another orgasm rolls through you. His name topples from your lips over and over until you're out of breath, shuddering and babbling.

"You're so..." he gasps, "...beautiful when you cum for me, darling." He continues to pound into you, letting down one of your legs to thumb circles over your clit. "I've never heard a prayer as sweet as the way..."

"Lokiiii!" you scream as another high crashes down upon you.

"Ex-exactly," he stutters your name, jutting into you erratically as his jaw clinches.

You feel the satisfying swell of him just before his seed coats your walls. He gives a few more thrusts and lets your leg down to pull you into a fiery kiss. With a last, sharp tilt of his hips, he pulls out. "Thank you for coming down with me darling. I can't imagine a better way to spend the weekend."

Taglist: @peaches1958, @javagirl328, @loopsisloops, @goblingirlsarah, @buttercupcookies-blog, @lovelysizzlingbluebird , @cakesandtom, @ladymischief11, @km-ffluv, @coldnique, @glitterylokislut, @eleniblue, @lokiprompts, @lokisgoodgirl

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