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issa-pheonyx · 8 months

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CEO-sub!Leon&Chris X Fem!Reader🌶️ [Part 2]

𝗢𝗸𝗮𝘆, 𝗜 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗴𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗜 𝗴𝗼𝘁 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗜 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗯𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗖𝗵𝗿𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗜 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗵𝗶𝗺 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝘀…𝗹𝗶𝘁. 𝗦𝗢, 𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘 𝗚𝗢-🤪👹 Part 1, Headcanons referring to part 1

▌│█║▌║▌║ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ ║▌║▌║█│▌

Just because you now have your smitten boss wrapped around your finger doesn't mean you stopped doing your OnlyFans content. You were still pegging and other femdom things with your fans, male coworkers, etc. Leon does get jealous that it has been the typical arguments you both have. The relationship between you two is a mix of professionalism due to still working for each other and a mistress/sub bond. However, you've noticed that he would do romantic things since the incident was all sexual. You sense he was starting to catch feelings for you, but you let it be. It was up to him if he wanted to be up front with you

This time around though in lunch time he didn't come by to your office. Chris walked in, comfortably, since you both are accustomed to each other. Ya know, all good things. "Hey, (Y/N). I snuck in. Leon is busy talking to one of our collaborators. In the meantime you wanna get some lunch? On me, of course." He smiles and you shrug,"Sure, it has been a long time I haven't seen you, so fuck it." You got up and this time you locked your office door and snuck out the building with Chris. You assume Leon was not catching on, but he did. Again he has the cameras in his computer, IN his office, with the said collaborators with him there

'Chris, I swear I'm going to kick your ass!' Leon glares at the screen watching you leave with him as his jaw clenches. "Uh, Mr. Kennedy is everything alright?" The personal assistant of Chris asked as he shakes his head, giving a smile, but the look of rage of his eyes says otherwise,"Oh no! Just remembered I have to speak with a coworker after this. Serious conversation." They nodded their head, fully understanding as they continue on with their business inquiries

After lunch time was over Chris walked with you back to your office,"I'm going to go back now. I'll see you at your place after work?" You nodded,"Yeah, just don't let Leon know." You winked as he blushes a little looking away, but you can tell he had a bashful smile on his face. Getting back to your work, only a few minutes went by and someone was calling you from your office phone. You picked it up and answer,"(Y/N), speaking."

"Hey, come to my office...now." It was Leon. He didn't sound to happy either. "On my way." You maintain your composure and head straight to his office. It was none other than Leon on his desk, pissed as fuck, and Chris sitting on one of the velvet chairs in front of him. "So...you're using him?" Leon asked and Chris scoffs,"Leon, this could work out better if we just let it go." Leon glares at him and averts his eyes back to you,"I'm not going to. If this is the only for you, (Y/N), to stop fucking my best friend and everyone else in the building. Overall, this...OnlyFans situation then I won't hesitate to have you make me yours forever."

"What!?" Both you and Chris said in unison. "Wait...are you making some kind of proposal? You want to be my boyfriend?" He nods and answers,"Yes, I want to be yours and more~" Chris gets up, arguing,"You were never there for her before all of this shit, Leon. I know her better than you anyway." Leon smirks and stands up going around his desk,"I can promise you I can take her better than you. Only paying for her lunch? Not even her needs? Her wants? Her desire? Maybe...her power she can hold?"

"Listen here you son of a bitch-" You stand in between them cause Chris was already getting ready to square up,"Stop it!! Both of you need to chill out. I don't know what is your guys' problem, but I'm not going to add that on my list since I've already had enough with these bitches breathing down my neck about you-" You glared at Leon causing him to feel guilty,"and the fact I have now need to deal with another dog tagging on my tail!" You whip your head to Chris as he just sighs, looking away

You inhaled and exhaled sharply,"That doesn't mean I don't appreciate both of you. Chris for being there for me when Leon was a douchebag" "Hey!" Leon said, offendedly. "And Leon for actually acknowledging how your actions are before and you start to open up to me. I'm glad I'm able to build that trust with you." They both first hesitated...then they let it go and smiled saying their thank you's. "Is that all you wanted to talk about?"

They both look at each other then at you,"Well...we did mention what would happen if things would work out if we..." Leon gets closer to you as you are now chest to chest with him. "Hm? Wait what-" Chris was behind and felt his chest against your back...and more~

"W-What are you boys doing?" You asked, you try to sound stern, but your voice came out shaky. "We want to play mistress~" You gasp as you can feel their hands roam around you body. 'This is going to be...very different.' You thought

Cutting some time it was just both of them down on their knees. You skirt was lifted up, underwear removed, and Leon getting down to business with his mouth ravishing your pussy. Chris was occupied with your ass behind like a bottom feeder. It was intense, yet the pleasure was amazing. This was a first experience you've had since you're usually doing it with just one person. "Mmm, good boys. You are eating me up so good, ahh!"

They both moaned with you as their voices vibrated making you bite your lip. Leon circles his tongue on your clit looking up at you with his blue-puppy eyes examining your face how you react to his work. His hand jerking off his cock leaking with so much precum while the other is fingering you. Chris jerking himself off too and using his other free hand fingering alongside with Leon into your pussy as his face is stuffed in between your ass. "Oh fuck! B-Boys, if you do that, mmm~"

An upcoming orgasm was creeping causing your legs to tremble. No matter how your hips buck or your back arches they continue to stuff their faces in and force their fingers to go faster. "Cum in my mouth mistress, ah~" Leon sticks his tongue out and flicks it on your clit and Chris pushes another finger, three in total, with Leon using two (so competitive),"Cum on my fingers, mommy. Please, squirt your juices out, mmm~" Chris growls into your ass making his mouth slob on your hole

The orgasm hit as you gasp and let out a whiny moan, screaming,"Oh yes yes yes, fuuuucckkk!!~" You came on Leon's mouth and Chris' fingers as they moan out "Oh fuck yes, mistress~" "Oh yes, so fucking wet~"

"I got her to cum first." Leon smugly said. "Oh shut up you just got lucky cause you ate her pussy!" You rolled your eyes at their stupid bantering,"If I hear another fucking word from both of you I will leave you like a damn dog in heat and have someone else take care of my needs!" They both acted up right replying: "Yes, mistress." "Sorry, mommy." You sighed,"Good. Now lets move on~"

Next thing you know Chris is pounding you from behind as you were sucking on Leon's cock. The sight of you getting fucked by his best friend twinged with envy, yet perverse from the sight. He could imagine himself how you would look like getting railed behind. Same goes for Chris watching you suck on Leon's cock so deep and sloppy that it was turning him on so much causing him to grip on your hips to move you back into him nice and deep

You let out a moan as you glance over your shoulder face twisted in pleasure,"Mmm, you like that, don't you, Chris?~" You were jerking off Leon's cock as he mewls listening and watching going down between you too,"F-Fuck, (Y/N), ughhh~" Leon starts to buck his hips into your hand as he pants witnessing the dirty scenery, but you turn your head back to Leon,"Oh, Leon you're moving your hips, ahh, you like it when, oohh, when I'm getting pounded by Chris like this, yeah?"

He nods his head and jolts his head back, moaning, feeling your mouth again and deepthroating him as he grips on the edge of the desk. "I-I'm think I'm gonna c-cum!" Chris grunts as his cock hardens more making you moan into Leon's cock. Leon bites the back of his hand trying to maintain his moans, but fails,"Mmm, m-me too, oh god!"

Both boys were a moaning mess as Chris was going in fast and Leon was thrusting his hips into your mouth. You gagged and sucked on his dick like nothing, clenched your pussy tighter on Chris' cock as they scream in pleasure. "S-Shiitt! Ahh!!~" "C-Cum, so mmm!!~" Chris creampied deep inside your pussy and Leon came deep into your throat as you swallowed it down. You pulled your mouth away at the same time with Chris pulling out as you stand up and hum in pleasure feeling the creampie ooze out

Leon and Chris went on their knees in front of you as they lick the trail streaming down your inner thigh of the semen. You chuckled,"You two just can't get enough, huh?" They replied "No, mistress." "Never, mommy." It seems like it is not over yet. Well...not that we are all complaining~

𝗧𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴! 𝗜 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝘁. 𝗠𝘆 𝘂𝗽𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗱𝗼 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗮 𝗳𝗮𝗶𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴. 𝗦𝗹𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹~🖤🫣

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fruitblr · 2 years

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David Tennant on the Graham Norton Show🍆🍆🍆

#the graham norton show #davidtennantedit #dwcastedit #tvedit #david tennant #michael sheen #chris hemsworth #ours #by lemon #farmers market fruit

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universitypenguin · 1 year

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Word Count: 4,977

Warnings: Smut. 18+ readers only. Explicit sexual content. Rough sex. Steve suffers emotional distress. Kidnapping and hostage situation.

Master List

R is for Risk

The atmosphere vibrated with stress. Like the tolling of bells in a provincial town, tension echoed off the walls. Your mind shied away from the metaphor as soon as you thought of it. John Donne’s poem, asking for whom the bell tolled, wasn’t an analogy you wanted to connect with at the moment. It was too close to acknowledging the truth of your predicament and that wasn’t a topic you could mentally cope with right now.

After all, how did a person handle dancing on the edge of death, other than by ignoring it?

Taskmaster turned and tilted his masked head to the side, looking like a very ugly German Shepherd puppy.

“Time’s running out, girl. Better start praying your boyfriend turns up.”

You tilted your chin and met his threat with defiance. Inside, your stomach was churning. But it would be a disaster if Taskmaster knew his effect on you.

He loved seeing terror, but loved knowing that he was causing it even more. You’d clocked the glee in his voice when he’d broken your finger on video for Steve to witness. The wound still ached but had mostly gone numb as the hours counted down.

“How am I going to kill you, my pretty…? It would be more dramatic to leave your face intact, I think. Or perhaps not. I should deny him the sight of such a lovely visage ever again, so he can only remember you the way you were on our last few calls.”

Taskmaster laughed.

You rolled your eyes. “Visage? Have you been reading Jane Austen recently? No. Let me guess. Charlotte Brontë.”

His smirk didn’t budge.

“I find it fascinating that no matter how I threaten you, it doesn’t disturb you as much as when I remind you how terribly this will scar Steve. You’re really in love, aren’t you? I always thought it was his looks. Say, does he actually have an eight pack under those pressed shirts and khakis?”

You sneered. “Are you coming for my boyfriend? He’s taken.”

“Got him all leashed up, huh?”

“There’s no leash. He loves me. I love him - that’s all there is to it.”

Taskmaster’s face moved in a way that suggested he was wrinkling his nose under his mask.

“Have you ever been in love?”

He stiffened, shoulders pulling tight as his arms drew back, bringing his elbows in toward his torso.

Your eyes narrowed.

“A psychopath who’s been in love. Interesting.”

“Shut it, girl.”

Taskmaster swung away and moved to check the cellphone he’d placed on the counter.

A timer had been set right after the first ransom call. The digital clock was ticking down the minutes to your demise. If the Avengers didn’t hand over the vibranium ore stored in Tony’s safe, Taskmaster would kill you. Or to be more precise, his words had been, splatter your brains all over the wall.

“Three minutes left. If he loved you, he wouldn’t cut it so close.”

“If you were in his shoes, and the woman you loved was in mine, would you make this deal? You’re working for Klaus. In his hands that vibranium would put millions of people in danger.”

Taskmaster shrugged. “His money’s green.”

“So is Tony’s. Ask him to pay you more. Ask him for double whatever Klaus is paying you. You’re not stupid. It’s obvious which well runs deeper.”

For a moment, he pinned you with a cold glare that had your heart pulsing with fear. Had you pushed too hard?

Laughter exploded, shaking the man’s frame. He clutched his stomach and threw his head back, reveling as if you’d told the greatest joke ever written.

“You’re good. Really good. I’m impressed, Y/N. They warned me you were clever; but I didn’t think you’d get to me.”

Hope blossomed.

“I’m worth more alive than I am dead, and we both know it.”

The timer screeched its finale. A chorus of blaring horns and raging vibrations broke the tense moment.

Taskmaster clicked his tongue.

“Well, well. Time’s up. The Avengers have run out of chances to save you.”

You considered him, feeling a strange sense of calm that defied logic. In the back of your mind a trampled down instinct screamed at you to panic, but it was too distant to matter.

“I suppose you’re going to kill me and not double your pay. I’d thought you were intelligent. But it’s no matter, since I’ll be dead in… five minutes?”

Taskmaster grinned.

“Your calculations missed a variable. Loyalty. I have a reputation to protect and Klaus is a well connected man. If I double cross him, I’m as good as dead. So yeah. No deal. But I’m not going to enjoy this next part as much as I planned to. You made a good sparring partner, Y/N.”

The sound of your name on his lips sent a chill through your heart.

Fuck. He’s going to do it.

You stiffened as he stepped around the kitchen island, moving towards the living room, where you were cuffed to an armchair. The raw panic you’d thought would overwhelm you didn’t come. Its absence was the most remarkable thing about the whole situation. You were gripped by a cold fear that froze you, but heightened your awareness of everything else.

Taskmaster had taken two steps, his gun raised and movements purposeful, when the world exploded. There was an ear shattering sound, as if a firework had gone off beside you. Glass flew and stung as it sliced your legs. You covered your face and dove for safety beside the barricade of the sofa. Surprisingly, the cuff came loose as the chair tipped over and you jerked your hand free.

Gunshots snapped through the air. You crawled towards the door, away from the flying glass. Hands grabbed your waist, pulling you backwards.

You screamed.

Training with Steve paid off in that moment, when even despite comple terror, your elbow flew back and cracked against your assailant’s jaw. He was momentarily stunned and then seized your waist even harder, his fingers digging until they pinched. You yelped and kicked at him, then remembered to twist your hips for better leverage. Now on your side, you trapped one of his legs between yours and flipped on top of him.

“Y/N, stop! Stop! Hey!”

He blocked your fist with his forearm and pulled off the black ski mask. You gasped at the sight of Steve’s face. He hauled you into his arms and drew you tight against his chest as you tucked your face into his neck.

“It’s okay. You’re safe. You’re safe now.”

With a shudder, you felt your bravado melt away, and went limp in his grasp.

From behind the couch there was a chuckle. Tony snickered.

“Quite the romantic reunion.”

“Romantic? She nearly knocked out his teeth,” Thor said.

Tony sighed. “Sarcasm isn’t a language you’re ever going to master, is it?”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

There was a mandatory post hostage crisis interview with SHIELD. Steve protested the exercise, pulling out his “I am the Captain” voice on Maria Hill. You intervened by cutting in and agreeing to the interrogation. While they called it an ‘interview’ everyone knew what it really was. Steve was upset, and took you aside to ask if you were certain you felt up to the task.

Of course, you didn’t, but it was a matter of pride.

You wouldn’t use Steve’s status to get special favors. There was a stubborn desire to prove that, even if Captain America was your boyfriend, you could stand on your own.

You promised you were alright, kissed his cheek, and went with Agent Hill.

After the interview she insisted that medical checked you out. You were exhausted. All you wanted to do was go home but she insisted. Until you went with the nurse, you didn’t realize why.

Steve was waiting outside the exam room when you were done. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed and a deep scowl on his face. When he saw you, he straightened. You took what felt like your first full breath in hours when his arm curled around your waist. His jaw was bristled with stubble when he pressed his lips to your forehead. The big hands cupping your face were trembling as he clasped your cheeks.

“She’s all yours, Captain,” Agent Hill said.

Steve didn’t seem to hear. His gaze was fastened on the bruised skin of your neck. The marks had begun to show up during your conversation with Maria. By the time you’d gotten to medical for the check up, they’d sharpened into a clear shape. You wore Taskmaster’s hand print around your neck and would be wearing his marks for weeks.

Rage bubbled in Steve’s crystal eyes. You held still as he brushed the back of his fingers over the painful areas, and gently traced the marks that showed the outline of your attacker’s fingerprints.

He was silent. It coated the air with tension. You waited, but rather than speak, Steve dropped his head and breathed deeply. When he lifted his gaze again the violence had been replaced with his usual calm, steady expression.

The unnatural compartmentalization was unsettling. Steve shared his emotions freely with you. Your relationship had begun as a slow burn, but when Steve chose to be in a relationship, he held nothing in reserve. After more than two years together, you’d seen him fall apart, scream, cry, and laugh himself silly. This was not your Steve. The way he’d shut down his emotions in a single moment… it just wasn’t him.

He led you to the elevator bay and pressed the down button. You wrapped your arms around yourself for comfort. From the side of your eye, you watched Steve. He was distant, and not only in terms of the physical space he’d place between you. The composed mask was a hideous disguise on your handsome boyfriend. Emotions you’d had locked down tight were suddenly loosening. You looked up at the dial and willed the descending car to move faster. When you had the inevitable breakdown, you wanted it to be inside the walls of Steve’s apartment. Your hands began to tremble. You shoved them into your cardigan pockets to hide the reaction.

By the time you stepped into the lift, you were trembling from head to toe. Next to you, Steve was lost in abstraction. He wasn’t really there. Knowing this, being able to read him so easily, made his mental distance harder to tolerate. You wavered between asking him for a hug and crawling into the corner to hide. The elevator doors closed and you almost spoke up, needing the comfort of his arms, but Steve retreated to the corner of the car. He leaned, his left hand on the back railing and his right on the side rail. He was locked down.

He’d want to break down behind closed doors, too.

For all his emotional vulnerability, which you greatly admired, Steve liked to keep his rawest emotions private. You mimicked his posture in the other corner. The lift whirled. Your heart started to palpitate.

The lights flickered; that was the only warning. One moment you were in a beam of fluorescence, the next, everything went black.

With a lurch, the elevator stopped.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Damn it,” Steve muttered. He stepped forward and punched the button on the call box. “Hey, we’re stuck. The electricity went out.”

A buzz, then the disembodied voice of Happy Hogan came through the speaker.

“We’re aware. Sorry, Cap. The building took some damage when Taskmaster blew through the lobby. One of our circuits overloaded. It shouldn’t be too long. Tony is on it.”

“Understood. Thank you.”

Steve turned to look at you and jolted when you weren’t there. For a moment he was terrified. Then his gaze dropped and he saw you crumpled on the floor with your head between your knees. He wasn’t sure what to do. There were no tears. Instead, you just sat with your hands clasped behind your neck and your elbows tucked around your head. Silent. He blinked in the low light from the single safety panel that was still lit and saw you were shaking.

He eased down and very cautiously, rested in a squatting position, his hands dangling between his splayed thighs.

“Doll? You okay?”

You didn’t answer and he kicked himself mentally, regretting the stupid question.

“I’m just gonna slide over and sit next to you, alright?”

He sat down and did as he’d said. When he was next to you, Steve was startled as you slumped over from your defensive posture, right into his lap. Your shoulders and back were still curved, but you settled into a modified fetal position, with your hips and legs still on the floor, the rest of your body tucked into his lap.

Steve wrapped his arms around you. His hands were still encased in the fingerless gloves of his sleuth suit. Through the exposed fingertips he could feel how cold your skin was.

“Shit. You’re in shock.”

“No.”

You murmured the single syllable answer, the denial surprisingly strong.

Steve smoothed his hand over your hair.

“Baby, you’re shaking like a leaf. You’re freezing.”

You curled tighter and shuddered as a wave of terror emulated through your body. Steve pulled you all the way into his lap. He was worried by your lack of reaction as he situated you between his spread legs, your back to his front. There was no point in calling back down to Happy. Steve knew Tony was working on the elevator as fast as he could. Triaging what issues he could affect, and which ones he couldn’t, Steve used the mass of his body to surround yours. He peeled off his gloves and laced his fingers through yours, rubbing the skin to warm it. You shuddered again, violently.

He heard the short quick breaths and knew that no matter what you said, this was panic. Maybe even a panic attack. He wasn’t familiar enough to know the exact threshold of what constituted a full blown panic attack, but your gasping inhalations spoke for themselves. Steve clenched his arms around you and held on. You groaned and he saw the corner of your eyes crinkle as he nuzzled your temple. What had been shaking and tremors a minute ago were increasing to convulsions that rattled your entire frame.

“Shhh… It’s okay. I’m right here. You’re safe. We’re in Avengers Tower. You’re safe.”

You were as rigid as a board.

He settled a firm hand on your shoulders and kept a gentle grip. You shuddered and clutched your arms around your knees. He stroked up and down your upper arms. His hands moved down to your elbows and back up, over your shoulders and neck. He didn’t know what to say - so he didn’t say anything. He just kept trying to soothe you with his hands and the shelter of his body.

Slowly, you eased against him and uncurled from your tense position. Steve sighed, quietly, his eyes sliding shut on a wave of relief. You turned to burrow into him as if you could crawl into his suit with him. At the moment, he wished you could.

Then, to his surprise, you grabbed his shoulders and swung your leg over his hips. Steve’s hands automatically moved to your bottom. Out of habit he kneaded the supple flesh. When he realized what he was doing, he froze.

“I’m sorry, doll. I-”

He broke off when he looked up and saw the burning lust reflected in your eyes. His brain short circuited. In a moment, all of the information he’d ever stored in his mind was lost. Steve stared, unfathoming, as your mouth descended onto his. Later, he would reflect that he’d felt like a male spider being hypnotized by its mate.

Your hands went to his utility belt and undid the buckle with quick fingers. Steve hadn’t yet recovered his senses. He was motionless as you undid the snaps covering the zipper of his pants. Lust unfurled in his belly as you slid down the fly and pushed the material apart. The familiar feeling of your hand closing around his dick triggered an instant wave of arousal.

“Ah, fuck…”

The word slipped from his lips, the vulgarity almost going unnoticed, as his brain switched off and his body took over. Steve moaned and thrust into your teasing grip. He moaned as your hand fell away, then grunted approvingly when your lips pressed against his. Steve could still feel the heat of post-mission adrenaline pulsing in his blood. Combined with the pleasure of arousal, it created an intoxicating cocktail in his brain.

“Baby, please,” Steve gasped as you ground yourself over his dick.

“Mmmhh…” your tone was sweet and as viscous as honey.

The sound went straight to his cock.

“Off,” Steve grunted, tugging at the waistband of your skirt.

You continued voraciously attacking his mouth, cheeks, neck, and throat with your lips.

Steve was bubbling with emotions. After days of pent up stress, fear, rage, and despair, he’d thrown himself into your rescue mission. The consequence was that now he was a super soldier teetering on the edge of control. His usual control was slipping away and he just couldn’t hold on to it for another second. Your teeth scraped his jugular and your tongue darted out to soothe the wound with a gentle lick. The sensation went straight to his spine, electrifying every nerve in his body as it traveled down to his groin.

He threw back his head, snarling at the wild pleasure and the mounting frustration of not being inside of you.

You pulled back from the kiss, just enough to speak. Your lips brushed his.

“Fuck me. Please, Steve. I need you so bad.”

That snapped the last thread of his control.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

He pushed you off his lap, and stood in a graceful movement. You’d almost climbed to your knees when Steve reached down, cinched an arm around your waist, and lifted you. He pivoted to the wall in a whirl and lifted you higher so your legs could wrap around his waist. You clung to him, breathless from the rush of being manhandled against the wall.

Oxygen left your lungs as Steve attacked your neck with the same fervor you’d gone at him with. Your eyes rolled back as he found the spot that made you feel as if every nerve in your skin was on full alert.

“Steve! Oh!”

He growled and rutted against you, only separated by the thin barrier of your panties.

“Fuck me!”

You meant for the words to be a demand, but he rubbed the head of his cock across your clit at the moment you started to speak. You whimpered the command in a hoarse cry of need.

Steve shoved a hand between your bodies, pushed his fingers into the crotch of your panties and ripped. The material was strong and you felt the sting as well-stitched seems dug into your skin. Steve hissed and twisted the material around his hand. You yelped at the snap of elastic, then moaned as the material vanished. The heated flesh of Steve’s arousal finally pressed to your needy core.

He adjusted his grip and lifted you over his erection. Accommodating the broad tip was always the most difficult part of making love to Steve.

Before you knew what was happening, he’d rubbed his thickness in your dripping juices, coating himself just enough, and then buried his dick in your vulnerable sex. The panels of wall behind you bowed, rattling under the force of Steve’s invasion. You cried out and clung to his shoulders as he slammed into you, splitting you open without a shred of finesse. Tears rolled down your cheeks at the harsh burn of him pushing through your folds. The friction should have been unpleasant but the heightened tension made it feel different. Your pussy rippled and juices flooded your channel to ease his entry. Steve moaned against your ear. That noise reverberated through your body and echoed in your heart. This was exactly what you needed.

You tossed your head and rocked against him o aid the difficult joining of your bodies. Steve gave a low grunt and cinched his arms around your hips. You gasped when he lifted you and thrust up at the same time he let go. You shrieked at the abrupt invasion of him in the deepest parts of your body. The wetness eased the burn as your pussy accepted every inch.

Steve grunted and you felt the coolness of the elevator panel on your back again as he pinned you against the wall.

“That’s it, baby. That’s what I want. What I need. You feel like heaven.”

Your pussy clenched and he gasped.

“Fuck. Fuck! I’m… I need…”

You stroked your hands over his trembling muscles and nuzzled his jaw.

“S’okay,” you said. “Please. I need it too.”

He shivered. Then his eyes turned dark, so only a tiny ring of blue remained around his pupils. You clung tightly as he left control behind and simply unraveled. It was impossible to keep up with him as he pounded out all the frustration, terror, and pain he’d felt over the past few days into your body. Your legs shook from the depth of his cock and the angle of his pelvis as he hammered into you with abandon. Pleasure swamped you, radiating out from your core, extending deeper and further with every brutal thrust of Steve’s hips.

“Aaahhh!”

The tension snapped without warning and you screamed in ecstasy as the climax erupted. Your vision went black and your heart felt as if it was about to explode. The orgasm destroyed your senses and ripped your muscles apart in spams of ecstasy more powerful than anything you’d ever experienced.

Steve didn’t seem to realize you were in orgasmic bliss as his thrusts continued in the exact same rhythm. You choked on an exclamation, so lost in the throes of your own release that you couldn’t speak. Steve growled and his hands tightened on your hips.

“Hold still, baby girl. Fuck. Aw… fucking hell!”

His head dropped to your chest and his panted breath warmed your decolletage as he rutted even harder. You croaked out what should have been a wail, if you’d had the air to make such a sound. You couldn’t get enough breath for a proper scream. Steve rolled his hips and the slight change of angle ground your clit against his pubic bone. A second orgasm slammed into you, shattering all sense of self and stripping you until the only thing you knew was the endless pleasure rippling through your muscles and sizzling along your nerves. The orgasm went on, and on, flooding your eyes with tears and finally bringing air into your lungs. You sobbed. The pleasure was so intense it was almost painful. Your pussy didn’t flutter - it seized with the violence of a climax you hadn’t imagined yourself capable of.

Steve’s tongue curled around your nipple before his lips closed to suck the tender bud with enthusiasm. You screamed and arched, bucking with the sudden flash of pleasure that blazed through you. In the haze of climax, you hadn’t even noticed when he’d tugged down your shirt and pushed aside the cup of your bra.

He was still thrusting. You felt the warmth of his release and knew he’d already come, perhaps several times. The release didn’t seem to matter. You remained trapped between the pleasure demon feasting on your breast, and the metal panel of the elevator wall. It shook from the force of Steve’s body pounding into yours. The deep angle was nudging a little spot you hadn’t known about before today. It was somewhere in the very back of your pussy and his thrusts seemed to strike it at just the right angle to make your bones turn liquid. Your muscles went slack as the next orgasm came. You whimpered, then it stuck. This time your muscles shook and your body trembled but there was no wild thrashing - you were nearly limp from exhaustion.

Steve groaned. You felt the warmth of his release. He shuddered and you felt the signs that he was finally slowing. Unexpectedly, he reached between your legs and stroked your clit. The rumble of his voice was reassuring, but you couldn’t hear the words, as your body shuddered through a climax that hit like a sucker punch. You clawed at the material of Steve’s uniform, lost in the pleasurable agony of the last orgasm being ripped from your body.

The world fell away. Steve’s arms holding you tight were all you could feel as blackness descended.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Come on. Come back, sweetheart. Open your eyes.”

You turned away from the fingers gently stroking your cheek. You felt like your eyelids were weighted down.

“That’s it. There she is.”

The crooning voice interrupted your peaceful cocoon of sleep.

“Honey. Open your eyes.”

This time the voice was commanding. Your eyes flickered, but fell closed. A hand grasped your chin and white light glowed behind your closed lids.

“Come back to me.”

The sternness was nowhere to be found now. The voice had an edge of fear in it. Your eyes opened to the blurry sight of a figure leaning over you. Your arms were warm. Looking down, you saw Steve had draped your sweater over you like a blanket. You were in his lap, curled into his chest, with his arms cradling your back and knees.

You struggled for words and realized that your tongue was thick and your mouth was dry.

“Shhh…” Steve murmured.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead and nuzzled your temple.

“It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m sorry. They’re going to be done fixing the elevator in a minute.”

That sounded really good. You nodded and relaxed into his arms, resting your head on his shoulder.

“That’s it. Go ahead and rest. I’m not going anywhere.”

The fierce note in his voice nearly permeated the fog over your brain but you were so exhausted that you couldn’t push back the urge of sleep.

An unknown length of time passed before a jolt of the elevator car started you into awareness. You bolted upright and were only saved from hitting your head on the railing by Steve’s grip on your waist.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. We’re going to get out of here. I’ve got you.”

The words circulated in your brain, only half absorbed, as you struggled up from the depths of a sleep cycle.

“How long…?”

“Ninety minutes.”

Steve’s voice sounded odd. You looked at him and saw the worried knit of his brow, and the tension in his shoulders.

“Steve,” you mumbled through a sore throat.

The word came out scratchy. His eyes dropped and he looked as if he’d been slapped. Then the pitiful look disappeared behind a composed mask.

“I’m going to take you back to medical, sweetheart. They need to check you out again.”

“No.”

“Don’t argue,” Steve said.

You shook your head and burrowed into his arms.

“Not…going…”

A heavy sigh, followed by a gentle squeeze of Steve’s arms, let you know you’d won as the elevator began to move again.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The next time you woke up it was sunny.

Light streamed through the window and you were surprised to find that you were the only occupant of the King sized bed you usually shared with Steve.

Shoving down the covers, you stood on shaky knees to make your way to the living room.

Steve didn’t look up when you came in. He was so still that it took a second for you to notice him. He had the lights off and the curtains drawn. A feeling of dread washed over you. Dawn was Steve’s favorite time of day. Unless he was seriously injured, or sick, he never missed a chance to sit with his coffee and enjoy the sunrise.

You stepped towards him and he startled, his head whipping around.

“Steve?”

He blinked, his lashes fluttering with surprise.

You could sense anxiety but couldn’t understand the reason for it. Seeing Steve’s emotions so plainly written on his face triggered yours. You climbed onto the sofa next to him, curling your feet underneath your legs.

“Are you okay?” His voice was raspy.

Your eyes settled on the end table where two empty bottles of blueberry bourbon sat.

“Yeah. Are you?”

His head tipped back. “No.”

You reached for him, but he pulled away. Miffed by the rejection you stared as Steve slid to the corner of the sofa.

“What? What’s wrong?” you asked.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

Steve blinked, his eyebrows drawing down as his jaw clenched.

“For what?” He said, repeating your question with a sharp sting of bitterness that made you flinch.

You were at a loss for words.

“Steve…”

What did you do? What does one say when they don’t understand the root of the problem? You could read the obvious signals that he didn’t want to be touched, but decided to ignore them.

There were a few things you knew about your boyfriend. One of them was that, while his main love language was quality time, when he was upset his love language became physical touch. Steve shifted away, but you pretended not to notice as you wrapped yourself around him and snuggled up with your head on his shoulder.

“Talk to me. Please, Steve.”

He grunted.

“I apologize. For how I treated you today. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say. All I can tell you is that it will never happen again.”

You turned your face up, ready to protest, but Steve laid a finger over your lips. His expression was stern and set with determination.

“It. Will. Never. Happen. Again.”

- - - - - - - - -

Master List

#steve rogers smut #steve rogers alphabet #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america lemon #captain america smut #captain america x fem!reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #18+ only #minors dni #no minors #smut fanfiction #chris evans charaters

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gjdraws · 1 year

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variations on chris / ruben patterson

edit: on reflection have realized this was also influenced by That Scene in Pop Cradle by @thereminwriting

#it’s art block #I have it #ruben patterson #shootfighter #Chris (niny)#billy zabka #ralph macchio #was this vaguely inspired by cookietastic throwing shootfighter into the wind?#maybe #it’s a comfort movie ok #anyway #lemons #naked in new york #does this qualify as nightposting #spo it’s cookie and theremin #now I have to watch shootfighting 2 again #my favorite b movie

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thatgaybitch240 · 7 months

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Bottom Trans Chris Redfield x Top Reader. No pronouns for reader but reader has a penis. Pet names. Cringe? It's my first fic. Short fic. Hope you like it! ❤️

The sound of skin pounding on skin reverberated in the bedroom. It was the most pleasant sound you've ever heard. Each new sound was followed by a wave of pleasure as you buried yourself deep in Chris Redfield's wet folds. It was iconic really, the big tough Chris Redfield is currently putty in your hands. He is yours to play with as you please. You run your hands up and down Chris's body. His hairy chest, his rock hard abs, his thick thighs. He was yours, and yours alone.

He let out a loud moan as you pounded yourself deeper into him. You quickly put a hand over his mouth and leaned into his ear. "Didn't I tell you to be quiet, my love?" You growl seductively into his ear. Even though your hand was around his mouth you could hear the whimper that escapes his mouth. Something about his whimper pushed you over the edge. You wanted more, you needed more. You quickly pounded into him, not caring about being gentle. The muffled moans he let out was bliss to your ears. You removed your hand from his mouth and put your hands on his muscular hips.

"Fuck, if you keep that up I'm going to cum!" Chris moaned loudly. It seems that he's close to finishing, and so are you. "I'm close too, baby boy." You breathily whisper in his ear. "Cum in me. Please baby, I need your cum deep inside of me." Chris begs you. And with that, you pound even harder into his pussy. In a matter of seconds you finally release yourself into him, painting his wet, tight, pink walls white. You stop and let out a shaky breath of pleasure. After a few seconds you continue to pound into his pussy that is now dripping with your cum.

Chris lets out a quiet gasp as you continue to pound his little pussy. Your dick is sensitive but you push through it to make your lover cum. Chris's moans become louder and more frequent as he gets closer and closer to his release. You can feel his warm walls tighten around you as continue to thrust into him. It only takes a few more seconds until you hear Chris let out the loudest moan he's made tonight. "Fuck, I'm gonna- UUUUGGGGHHHH!" You feel his warm liquid coating your dick, causing you to let out a small moan. You slowly exit him and embrace him in your arms, giving him light kisses on his jaw and neck. Chris swiftly pushes you onto the bed and develops you in a warm hug. Neither of you say anything. You just let exhaustion take the both of you in it's sweet, comforting, familiar embrace. Seconds later, you two peacefully fall asleep in each other's arms.

#chris redfield #chris redfeild x reader #transgender #trans guy #trans man #x reader #fanfic #resident evil #lemon #smut

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kent-farm · 8 months

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—Supergirl, “Resist”

#Supergirl #Mon-El #Chris Wood #Lena Luthor #Katie McGrath #2.21 Resist #Lemon

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tvklike · 9 months

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hey leon kennedy lovers 😼

check this out

if you’re over 18 and enjoy leon getting what he deserves, head over to my twitter (@/nokoseoklane) for the full picture

#my art #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon #implied:#chris redfield #resident evil #re2 #re4 #re6 #resident evil vendetta #again implied:#chreon #nsft #mlm nsft #lemon #smut

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shannaraisles · 1 month

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No More - for @megasaurusssss

A piece for @megasaurusssss, who has also been an absolute delight with the patience of a literal saint. It was fun to dip my toes back into Dragon Age, and Chris was such a joy to write. Thank you so much!

No More

“I would have preferred to remain with the rest of the men.”

Chris couldn’t help the sting that snapped through him at the sound of Cullen’s quiet complaint. Surely it wasn’t so bad to be left alone with him, was it? All right, so they were not exactly on an even keel in terms of their relationship after everything that had happened, but even so ... would the commander rather have ordered someone else to keep watch over the declared most precious asset the Inquisition had than stay another minute in proximity?

“I ...” He paused, taking a moment to scan the sentence before he said it aloud, seeking out anything that might further upset his companion. “I can try to go faster, we ... we could catch up sooner if we don’t stop so much.”

Cullen cast him a sharp glance, taking in the heavy splint that guarded a badly broken leg and the fresh scar decorating his face.

“You can barely walk, let alone quickly, Christopher,” he said, his tone gruff but, for a split second, his eyes were kind. “We will make our own way. Unless you believe me incapable of protecting you on a two day journey to the main camp?”

And there was the sharpness again, that prickly coat that wrapped so tightly around the commander’s heart and mind in defense against anything and anyone that might even suggest a sense of closeness he was not prepared to risk. It brought back the sting of his initial words, confusing the softness of affection with the sandpaper roughness of defensive fear. There was more than just that hostility there, he was certain of it. In fact, he knew now that hostility was not even directed personally toward him - it was born of an old fear, past trauma, and wielded like a weapon against anyone who so much as brushed up against any similarity to those that had inflicted that trauma in years gone by.

But behind the hostility, Chris had seen softness. It was there in the care Cullen showed for his soldiers’ wellbeing. It was there in the scrupulous attention to detail that had fortified and armed Skyhold within a few weeks of their arrival. It was there in the meticulous concentration on every task or problem, narrowing with laser focus until the commander found the solution that would cost the least lives on either side. It was even there with his worried oversight of the mages - overbearing, yes, but it was born more of fear of who might be harmed than of what could happen.

“Why are you so far away?”

The question seemed to come from nowhere, rising from Chris’ chest, blurted from between frozen lips, ears barely believing what they had just heard that familiar voice say. Cullen’s head jerked up, his whiskey-warm eyes snapping to meet Chris’ gaze, wet with icy shock at the question. They both knew it had nothing to do with his physical distance.

“You know why.”

The words were cold, but the heat was there, barely hidden beneath the surface. But was it heat from anger, or something else? Was he denying his fear, or denying his desire? Chris didn’t know. Cullen could be hard to read at the best of times, and this clearly was not the best of his times.

“No. No, I really don’t.” Chris held up a hand, preventing his companion from interrupting with snatched, thoughtless words. “You say I’m different. You ... you treat me, treat me as though I am sometimes your friend and sometimes your lover, and sometimes I-I’m ... sometimes it feels like I’m not even me to you. Sometimes I think you look at me, and you’re looking at someone I’ve never even met.”

Guilt, fear, a moment of frenzied fear ... all these flickered across those warm, cold eyes as Cullen let him speak. However much the commander may have wanted to shut his ears against these words, he had never done Chris the disservice of not hearing him. Not listening sometimes, certainly, but he always heard.

“I don’t know what you are looking for, Christopher,” he answered, stiff and brittle in the face of emotions rising that were unaccustomed and terrifying. “You are ... dear to me. I care for you, as far as I can. But I am more broken than you know.”

“So am I!” Frustration painted the outburst as Chris flared in the face of that outright denial. “So is everyone! You are not the only broken person in this world, Cullen! But you-you are ...” He swallowed against the choking lump in his throat, wondering why his words kept trying to dry up before they could be released. “You are the only one I know who refuses to believe he can even begin to mend.”

The ice seemed to thicken over Cullen’s eyes, the leather of his gloves creaking as he flexed and clenched his fingers.

“You do not know what you are speaking of,” he said, and in his tone, his posture, in every facet of his being was a warning. The beast within was riled, and who knew what it might do if he lost control for even a moment? “The things I have done, that I have allowed to be done ... that I have experienced ... don’t spout your nonsense to one who has lived through more than you should ever be in a position to even see.”

“You are not special,” Chris snapped back at him, more hurt than angry, more roused than riled by the heat lurking beneath the ice in Cullen’s eyes. “Well, you’re special to me, but not because of what you’ve suffered. It’s not a competition to see who’s had it worse.”

A low snarl erupted from the commander, and in a flurry of movement, suddenly Chris found himself flat on his back, one of Cullen’s hands gently cradling the back of his head, the other gripping his hip with possessive demand. Nose to nose, he could taste the commander’s breath on the air between them, his focus narrowing to the scarred lips hovering so very close to his own.

“I would not say such things if I were you,” the former Templar warned, his breath hot against Chris’ lips.

“Stop me, then.”

Where that challenge had come from, Chris could not have said, but barely a moment later, he did not care. Cullen’s mouth crashed into his own in a punishing, devouring kiss that was more teeth than lips, more passion than care, and more wonderful than the rushed desperation they had shared at Adamant. Chris gave as good as he got, nipping, licking, tasting, hands grasping and groping, tugging at hair, clothing, hating the breastplate that kept him from feeling the full heat and hardness of the commander flush against his form. Even the sharp lurch of pain from his splinted leg wasn’t even to make him pull away, even as he hissed in pain, filling that kiss with his own breath. But the sound of pain was enough to rouse Cullen from his passion, concern clouding that ardor in his eyes as he began to pull back.

“Your leg -”

“Forget it.”

Chris’ grip tightened in the soft fur of Cullen’s mantle, dragging him back into that needful kiss, unable to say what he needed to say, only daring to hope that this closed off, imperfect, wonderful man could somehow understand those unspoken words if he was shown in a different way. The commander groaned, and somehow that kiss softened, wordless surrender to a feeling he did not truly wish to fight any longer but did not know what to do with. Hands gentled, the snarling faded, and soon the small clearing was filled with the sounds of passion kindled at last away from the gossiping eyes of the Inquisition.

It was awkward, what with the broken leg and the half-plate armour, but even that awkwardness was a release of some of that tension, unexpected laughter burbling between the two men as they fumbled to be rid of the cold metal, to adjust until Chris was no longer in danger of undoing the good work done in splinting his leg just for the sake of their shared desire. And even in the midst of that simmering heat, they retained enough sense not to disrobe fully ... Cullen was not a man to lose his senses so wholly as to be both naked and distracted while on the road.

Finally there he was, hisplate and gambeson discarded, the mantle rumpled beneath them, his rust-stained undershirt hanging open to reveal the paler skin of his chest ... not quite as ripped as barracks gossip declared him to be, but no less a feast for the eyes for the suggestion of softness. Indeed, Chris was almost glad to see that softness; he knew Cullen as a man who drove himself hard, to the point of self-denial and even, perhaps, self-harm at times. But perhaps he wasn’t quite as hard on himself these days he once had been. He was certainly self-conscious, rose painting his cheeks as he panted, casting his eyes away from Chris’ earnestly admiring gaze in shy uncertainty.

“Christopher, I ...” He blew out a harsh breath, his hands trembling where they lay against Chris’ arms. “This is farther than I ... than I have ever ...”

Chris reached up, gently smoothing his fingers over those deliciously scarred lips to still the emerging burble of cautious fear.

“Do you want to?” he whispered, curling his palm to the other man’s cheek, drawing Cullen’s whiskey-bright eyes back to his own. He needed to see the consent, as well as hear it. They both did. “I, I know I do, but ... but you have to want it too.”

“Maker’s breath ...” The curse was barely a ghost of a breath between them, a slow, longing shudder rippling through Cullen’s tense frame as he propped himself over Chris in the soft, mossy grass. “I do, I ... I do not know what, or how, or -”

His words faded, strangled in a rushing groan of fever-filled lust as Chris’ hand slipped between them to cup the straining leather of his lover’s britches. The whiskey-warmth flared to burning ardor, head dipping down to demand the kiss that was so willingly given even as Cullen now found himself rolled to his back. Chris smirked against his lips, finally in a position where he knew what he was doing more than the commander could bluff himself through it.

“Just relax, if you can,” he murmured, trailing kisses over the blunt line of Cullen’s jaw, dragging his teeth briefly against the scratch of stubble as he let his clever fingers figure out the lacing at the commander’s waist and gain entry to the hidden jewels within.

His reward was a swallowed cry of pure, startled lust, an almost violent bucking of Cullen’s hips, and the sight of the always cool and mostly collected Commander Rutherford writhing on the rumpled folds of his own mantle, fingers digging deep into the mossy ground beneath them as his teeth bit down just shy of drawing blood in an attempt to hold back the sounds of his visceral pleasure.

“Easy,” Chris murmured, unable to hold back his laugh at Cullen’s unintelligible response.

The commander sounded somehow both eager and embarrassed, and oh, so ready for him to continue, finding his words only after several moments of slow, tender touches that seemed designed to reduce every bone in his body to quivering jelly.

“I ... what about ... what about you ...”

Chris couldn’t help his satisfied grin, lips curving against the stiff line of Cullen’s throat, tasting the dampening salt-sweat of the man’s skin as he trembled in the grip of his passion. His busy hand abandoned Cullen’s cock for just long enough to wet his palm before returning, the new lack of friction somehow setting his commander to greedier trembling under his practised fingers.

“Don’t worry about me,” he murmured, letting out a gasp of his own as Cullen’s fingers gripped his hair, dragging his mouth back for a fresh onslaught of hungry kisses.

He’d take care of himself later, if he had to. Right now, the commander needed this release so much more than he did and, if he were truly honest with himself, leaving Cullen in his debt might give the man more motivation to see this through to the end, rather than try to pretend there was nothing left between them once this night was done. He needed Cullen to surrender to this, to accept it and even embrace it, if he could. They both deserved more than the harsh recriminations this war was forcing between them thanks to magic and its misusers.

So Chris dedicated himself to Cullen for these too-short moments. He stroked and teased, palmed and played, urged, toyed, guided ... he gave as much as he could, learned as much as Cullen would let him, until the commander burst through his fears and worries and uncertainties to lie panting and spent in his arms, eyes whirling with as much tenderness as shock that this kind of intimacy was possible for him.

How long they lay together, he couldn’t have said, revelling in the soft silence between them, in the play of Cullen’s sweaty fingers through his hair and the sound of the man’s heartbeat slowing beneath his ear. This moment of freedom for them would not kast too much longer; too soon, the commander would return to full strength and regain his composure along with his pants and armour. But for now, in this moment, it was enough to listen to his breathing and know he had given into the heat between them. To hope that it would be the first time, and not the last.

“I should not have allowed that,” Cullen said, his voice a mere murmur beneath the soft night breeze. “To leave us both so vulnerable ... it was a foolish whim.”

Chris raised his head, looking down at the dishevelled man in his arms in hurt disbelief.

“Foolish?” he repeated, almost daring Cullen to clarify himself.

The commander’s scarred lip pulled taut for the briefest of smiles, amusement flickering in his warm eyes. He drew his knuckles against Chris’ cheek, a kiss of skin to skin, before moving to set himself to rights. Chris sat up, watching him clean himself, lace his shirt, pull the gambeson back over his head, his own brow furrowed in a deep frown, uncertain quite what to say in the face of those words.

Cullen paused under the weight of that gaze, raising a brow in curiosity at the expression on the other man’s face.

“Christopher.” He reached out, rubbing a gloved thumb between Chris’ brows to smooth out that frown. “I’m not so much a fool as to say never again. But to take such a risk with your life and mine?.”

He bent, daring to brush a hesitant kiss to Chris’ upturned mouth before drawing back swiftly to buckle his armour.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, and I will not be much good at it,” he said, shrugging to settle the plate more comfortably before reaching for his mantle. “I daresay I will cause more harm with thoughtless words in the weeks and months to come. But ...” His expression gentled, that tenderness reemerging for Chris’ eyes only. “I believe I am done running from it. No more cowardice. No more running.”

The relief was a palpable flare in Chris’ chest. Cullen never said anything he would not hold to, never promised anything he felt incapable of delivering. If he was saying this, then ... there would be no more running. No more cowardice. No more lashing out with the intention of causing pain. And Chris could try to be more understanding of his reactions, if it meant that no more became a daily occurrence. If it meant that no more might become forever. He’d thought he had forever once, and lost it far before he could ever have been ready to be without it. So perhaps this was enough, for now. For Cullen, he could live with no more.

#dragon age fanfiction #niamh does commissions #cullen rutherford #oc- chris #chris x cullen #angst #lemon #mlm #hurt/comfort #fluff #mild smut #relationship dynamics #hopeful ending

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