#its time to take a break from watching until the event is over | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kihyunsflavor · 21 days

Text

Cross my heart part 1

next chapter ↪︎

Pairing: Feyd-Rautha x f!reader

Summary: When Paul Atreides is killed by Feyd-Rautha, the only hope for the Bene Gesserit plan lies with Feyd. As the eldest daughter of the emperor, your father promises you to the na-Baron to forge an alliance between your two houses. However, this turn of events is not to your liking, and you harbor little fondness for him.

Warnings: arranged marriage, sexual tension (smut in next chapter), mentions of violence and blood, pet names, size kink, enemies to lovers trope (?)

Authors note: English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes. Also let's imagine Margot Fenring did not visit Feyd on his birthday.

Horror plays on her face when her lover falls to the ground. Blade buried deep in his chest, where his heart was beating only seconds ago. There is no scream from her, she is quiet as the tears fall. Soon the room is filled with loud gasps and cries. You watch her break down on her knees. Now her lover was dead and the Fremen had lost.

From the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of your father's face. There's a subtle hint of relief, a fleeting expression that only you can discern. Meanwhile, Feyd-Rautha turns around, a broad grin stretching across his lips. "Is this your Lissan al-Gaib? The Mahdi?" he mocks the Fremen gathered in the hall.

But in that moment, the Emperor and the na-Baron were invisible to them. All attention was focused on the fallen messiah as they swarm around the body. It doesn't take long for the left over armies to come and escort you to safety. Feyd trailed closely behind, a constant amusement playing on his features.

Your father's fury is evident; his clenched fist betrays his agitation. Yet this time, you won and destroyed the upcoming force from Arrakis. You tried to match his steps, but he was eager to leave this planet. You look back once, only to see her again. You didn't. She was hidden by the crowd. Instead, your eyes meet Feyd's. He had been walking closely behind you. "Don't worry, princess." Is all he says. You turn your face away, but he falls into step right by your side.

There is a ship, that will escort you back home. Feyd stayed alongside you and your father until your departure. "For now, I will return to Kaitain. But we will come back and slaughter them all." The emperor declared. Feyd Rautha nodded solemnly. He had dropped to one knee in front of your father. "You will stay here to oversee the spice harvest." There was a long silence. You noticed how your father exchanged meaningful glances with the revered mother Gaius Helen Mohiam. The silent communication left you puzzled, unaware of its significance.

Suddenly, your father rose from his chair. "And I will give you my eldest daughter."

A cold shudder went down your spine as you heard his words. You stared at his side profile, hoping this was a misunderstanding, but the revered mother came into your sight. You understood why it had been done, you remembered the words from her. Feyd was yet another prospect for the Bene Gesserit. When your eyes fell on the Harkonnen, he smirked up at you.

"I will not leave with you, will I?" You asked, as the na-Baron had left the room. "You will. He won't claim you until he has proven himself." Your father affirmed. He referrered to the need for the spice harvest to resume successfully.

"He will come to Kaitian when the time is right."

When you arrived on your homeplanet, the emperor dissappeared immediately. He was busy tending to the Fremen rebellion. The news of Paul Atreides getting killed by Feyd Rautha spread rapidly. The other houses remained firmly aligned with the emperor, since Paul had attempted to disrupt the spice harvest. Now there was no hope, no Lissan al-Gaib, for the Fremen. No one, who would bring them to Paradise as the prophecy had been told. However, Paul had not been the awaited Kwisatz Haderach, the Bene Gesserit had anticipated. Few knew, but the hope now rested upon your future husband.

Over the past few months, reports were sent to your father. They arrived from Arrakis, each carrying Feyd's signature. He described the spice harvest as successfull and on the best way to reach big numbers again.

As your father reviewed the latest missive, his expression grew pensive. "He seems to exceed the expectations. The baron sent a report himself." The emperor said, while leaning over his table. You nodded approvingly, your heart racing at the mention of Feyd's name. "Will he come soon?" Your father frowned at your question, fully lost in his thoughts.

"My daughter, I think I need to send you away." Your eyes widened, but his remained fixed on the scroll. "You will go to Giedi Prime. Solidify our alliance with House Harkonnen, familiarize yourself with the Baron and find out his political plans. The wedding will take place on Kaitain in due time." You listened well, while he explained. "Will Feyd-Rautha also be on Giedi Prime?" The thought of facing the Baron alone on this dark planet made you shudder. It was a nightmare. "Yes."

Before the month´s end, you yourself send a letter to the na-Baron. It was a request form your father, advised by the revered mother. Every word was carefully written by yourself with your name prominently displayed beneath the message. It was not a long letter. You informed him about your upcoming trip to Giedi Prime to meet his uncle, the Baron. And suggesting that he should join you as well. It was not a plead, but like a beckoning call to him. Of course you had to charm him first. In the future he would either listen to you willingly or you would resort to manipulation. Feyd Rautha was known for his ambitious and ruthless character, willing to do whatever it took to achieve his own goals.

Oh how it angered you to travel to this unpleasant planet - but you were hiding your feelings from everyone. It was a duty you had to fulfill. Showcasing the amicable relations between the two houses was important.

The ship was prepared at the start of the next month, laden with various garments, jewelry, shoes, and other essentials. The dresses, in particular, were meticulously crafted for this trip, symbolizing the prestige and authority of House Corrino. A few servants and a Bene Gesserit sister accompanied you.

The journey was short and soon you found yourself descending into the atmosphere of Giedi Prime. Sitting composedly in your chair, you awaited the ship's landing. A scroll was clutched in your hand, an unfamiliar excitement stirred in your stomach. You read the single line repeatedly. "As you wish, my princess." While technically you couldn't hear him say it, in your mind, it was as if he were speaking directly to you.

He was a very intelligent man, with a mind sharp like a knife, yet charming and handsome at the same time. He effortlessly commanded attention wherever he went. Despite this, you wished you could avoid marrying him. While he ignited unfamiliar passions within you, you were certain they were nothing more than fleeting fantasies. There was excitement, but you couldn't shake the feeling that he wouldn't hesitate to cause you harm. Maybe with time, you'd figure him out better.

As the ship landed, there was no time left to dwell on these thoughts. Stepping out onto Giedi Prime, a servant handed you your long coat, its once vibrant color now subdued by the planet's dim light. The Baron awaited your arrival, surrounded by a crowd gathered to greet you. It was to be a grand entrance, fitting for the daughter of the emperor.

With confidence, you made your way to the Baron, your eyes catching Feyd standing beside his uncle. A smirk played on his lips, betraying his excitement to see you. In that moment, you felt a sense of relief that he was here.

"Welcome to Giedi Prime, Princess. It's an honor to have the daughter of the Emperor grace our humble planet with her presence. I trust your journey was pleasant?" The Baron's words brought your attention back to the present, as he bowed before you, followed by his nephews.

"Thank you, Baron. The journey was indeed smooth," you replied politely. As the three men straightened up, Feyd stepped forward and gently kissed the back of your hand. First, you wanted to pull away, but his touch was surprisingly soft, and you allowed him to continue. After all, it was a well-mannered gesture.

"I was waiting for you, my princess," he whispered slyly, his words dripping with charm. There was a palpable tension building between the two of you, and despite yourself, you found him captivating. Your mind wandered back to the Fremen girl you came across on Arrakis, the one who had lost her beloved. In her eyes, there had been an unmistakable depth of love and dedication. You couldn't help but envy her, for she had someone to fight for, someone to live for. You were never going to experience that.

As you were led through the castle, the architecture and decor caught your attention, though not in a favorable way. Everything seemed dark and robust, with a metallic, cold feeling permeating every corner. The building reflected the characteristics of the residents of Giedi Prime, with their porcelain-white features and hairless appearance. You couldn't help but feel relieved that the wedding would take place on Kaitain, away from this grim atmosphere.

A room was shown to you by Feyd Rautha himself. It was an uncomfortable walk. Conflicting emotions churned in your stomach, leaving you uncertain of how to act. There was only one topic you both could talk about. "I heard the spice harvest is going well," you ventured, breaking the awkward silence. Feyd, who had been walking slightly ahead, slowed his pace and turned to look at you. "Yes, my princess. The Fremen haven't been attacking our spice harvesters. They have withdrawn almost entirely." You acknowledged his response with a subtle nod. "That's great."

Suddenly, Feyd stopped, causing you to pause in confusion. The servants trailing behind also halted. "Is it?" Feyd's smirked, as he turned his body to face you directly, now standing pretty close to you. "Well, why wouldn't it be?" you replied, perplexed by his demeanor. "You know what I mean by that, my little princess," he said, his hand reaching up to caress your cheek. You allowed the touch, still unsure of his intentions. Seeing your confusion, he smiled, showing his black teeth. "My dear, you know what your father told me. If the spice harvest was doing well, I could make you mine." He leaned in, now towering over you. "And if I understood correctly, you're looking forward to our union?" It was as if a switch had been flipped in your mind. Your praise for his work could easily be misunderstood as eagerness to marry Feyd.

You took a step backwards to create more distance between you. Feyd let his hand drop to his side, his smile remaining in place. "I see what you mean now. Perhaps it could be interpreted that way, but it wasn't my intention. I was simply acknowledging the work that had been done on Arrakis." You said.

Feyd appeared disappointed by your response, his eyes betraying his displeasure at your lack of reciprocation. But first, he would have to work to earn your attention. While he may have proven himself to your father, it didn't mean you were now at his feet. You would make it especially challenging for him.

He escorted you to your chambers without uttering another word. "Good night, Princess." His tone was cold and desinteressed. You stood in the door frame, contemplating wether to say something, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. "My Lord." You interjected at the last moment. Feyd paused abruptly, turning to face you. "Thank you for heeding my request and returning to Giedi Prime." You offered him a little smile, before closing the door behind you.

It was all just manipulation, to wrap him around your finger and keep him under your influence. He was thrilled to marry you anyways. Though love and affection were foreign to Feyd Rautha, his sexual desire was his weakness.

next chapter ↪︎

#feyd rautha #feyd smut #dune part two #feyd x you #feyd rautha harkonnen imagine #feyd rautha x reader #dune x reader #dune imagine #feyd rautha imagine #feyd rautha fic #austin butler x reader #dune fanfic #feyd x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #kihyunsflavor

782 notes · View notes

xxacademy · 5 days

Text

Throne of His Own

This fic is inspired & adapted from chapter 42 of A Court Of Mist And Fury, by Sarah J. Maas. Plot is original, but I took heavy influence from the events of that scene. <3

Leon Kennedy x Agent!Reader (she/her)

18+ MDNI !!

Summary: Being sent to a rural French village to go undercover with a band of vampires was strangely typical for your line of work— But, pretending to be lovers with another agent was anything but typical. Adapting yourself from a trained agent to a submissive lover unfolds in an unexpected series of events.

Word count: 10.2k

Content warnings: smut, AFAB anatomy, exhibitionism, penetrative sex, pet names, slightly mean possessive Leon (only when he has to be), alcohol consumption, typical violence and themes associated with resident evil (like mentions/ use of weapons).

a/n: somewhere, deep in the void, this was intended to be about 2k words, just a little one shot... but now here we are, lol. anyways thank you guys for being so patient, and thank u to my besties on here for being so kind and understanding. life is crazy, and truly i cannot keep up as consistently as i’d like to. i will always be here, even if i take some long breaks here & there. i love all u resident evil obsessed freaks, my life wouldn’t be the same without u xx also i finally decided to not be lazy & do the cute colored letters i hope u enjoy hehe

— PART I —

You peered out the window as you were driven through the endless sprawl of the snow-covered French countryside. A blur of powdery white pines occasionally broken up by small villages nestled into the hills.

Behind all those tall trees were the ragged peaks of the hulking French Alps, so expansive they nearly cut the sky in half. The beauty and stillness of winter was in full effect. Every little village had plumes of warming smoke gathering above the chimneys.

The agent driving the car interrupted your silent musing over the scenery. "You'll have to hike in. It's about 5 miles to the village, but we can't risk getting too close."

With one hand still on the wheel, he reached for the center console, pulled out a large envelope, and tossed it in your lap.

"There you'll find the information you need. Your partner, Leon Kennedy, has been undercover, posing as one of them."

Your voice is monotone, almost disinterested. "And who's them?"

"Some parasite-infected blood suckers. Leon has described them as a vampiric blood cult or something."

"And I'm just expected to waltz into all this? A blood cult? Really?"

"He talked about having a lover, a woman he returned home to, and at the time, it was just banter to fit in with them. But the cultists want to meet her. Either they're getting suspicious, or they want to play ball. Regardless, this served as a rather interesting opportunity to give Leon backup. So here you are."

Your knuckle rests below your bottom lip; you watch as the sun begins its descent below the icy mountain peaks.

So here I am.

You and one of the few other survivors of Raccoon City. You've met him, sure, but you have yet to work alongside him. But, you'd always known the day would come.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

You were driven as far as the meandering forest service road would allow. Ahead of you, where the road was no more, towering evergreens had taken over. Their limbs were heavy with packed snow, creating a dense cover over the forest. Only a sliver of the remaining purple-tinted dusk made it through the trees.

"This is where you're on your own. Here are the coordinates for where you'll meet up. Just stay north until you find an abandoned barn. That's where he'll be."

You nod in understanding, equipping your array of weapons—a rifle on your back, a pistol on your hip, and a machete on the other.

"We'll have you out before the end of the week," the agent said, helping you put your pack on.

"I'll count my blessings," your face was solemn as you faced the trees, attempting to size up what lay ahead.

"Well then, you're set. The best of luck to you." a sympathetic smile formed on the agent's lips as he stepped back into the car.

Without hesitation, you departed into the cold, dark wilderness.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

Seven miles may not have been a lot for you, but Seven miles of trekking through uncharted backcountry in the dark of winter was. You were chilled to the bone, and the numbness of your limbs limited your mobility ten-fold.

The thick undergrowth of the forest only got denser as you progressed, and your machete-wielding arm throbbed with every strike.

You stumbled up an embankment. With every step, loose, powdery snow slipped underneath your winter boots. Each sharp breath you took appeared as mist, illuminated by your headlamp.

As you finally reached the crest of the hill, you spotted a dilapidated barn at the base. It was nestled underneath a skeletal weeping willow tree. As you moved closer, you noticed half of its roof had caved in. Just one billow of wind could send the thing toppling.

You made your way down the slope, encroaching on the barn. You pulled out your pistol and dimmed your headlamp just to be safe.

Focusing on sound, you surveyed the area for footsteps, rustling, or speaking.

There was not a peep to be heard. Aside from the occasional whisper of wind, the surrounding forest was eerily quiet.

The crunch of the snow under your boots was frustratingly loud as you circled the barn's perimeter, searching for traps.

To your surprise, you peeked through a frosty window and saw the dull glow of a lantern, and a man sat beside it.

He was bundled head to toe in fur-lined clothing similar to your own. His eyes flicked up, and they met with yours. Without speaking, he signaled you in.

You couldn't recall what he looked like, but you remember a distinctly boyish look despite him being around your age when the incident happened. But the person who stood before you was a lot different.

This man is rugged and muscular. His cheekbones are much more pronounced, and his pale blue eyes are set deep in their sockets. Gentle yet battle-hardened. All that boyishness has dissipated.

"Leon," he said, stretching a gloved hand toward yours.

You stuttered your name through shivering lips, your hand meeting Leon's in a firm shake.

His tactful eyes scanned you, assumedly noting how cold you were.

"We really should get going. I've been holed up in a cabin only a few miles from here."

"Gladly, I'm freezing my ass off."

Without any further small talk, Leon leads the way, setting out once again for the dark, unforgiving woods.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

"Make yourself comfortable; I'll get a fire going," Leon said, opening the door for you before heading back outside for firewood.

You threw your pack onto the ground beside the fireplace. The room was completely dark, except for the small path illuminated by your headlamp.

You fumbled a matchbook out of your pocket and started to light the myriad of taper candles around the cabin.

Warm candlelight flooded the room, illuminating the interior of the gothic-style cabin. It was constructed of dark, ashy wood—the walls, the floor, the ceiling, and everything else.

Eclectic, mismatched carpets overlapped each other. And dark red curtains pooled along the ornate windows.

He called it a cabin, but the interior was rather grand.

Your heavy .22 caliber rifle had been digging into your back for hours, so you peeled it off with a relieving sigh. As you set it down on the wooden dining table, it made a hollow metallic clunk. You stripped off your other heavy layers onto the table, like your machete and belt, but kept on your fur-lined outerwear. Inside wasn't that much warmer.

With a heavy boot, Leon kicked open the front door, cradling wood in his forearms. With him, a gust of snow flurries blew into the cabin. He again kicked the door closed behind him and dumped the wood beside the fireplace.

"The snow is picking up again. You got here at the right time," Leon said, striking a match and tossing it into a pile of kindling inside the stone hearth.

You sit on a deep red Victorian-style couch in front of the fireplace. You sighed and kicked your boots up onto the coffee table.

"You call this place a cabin?" You say as your hand brushes the fine velvet upholstery of the couch.

"Well, when you see the rest of this village, you'll see why this place is considered just a cabin."

"These cultists must be the extravagant type then, huh?"

Leon piled wood onto the roaring fire, the crackling glow illumining his features. He stepped back from the heat and faced you, pulling off his heavy jacket. "Yeah, to say the least. They're greedy fuckers with bloodlines full of wealth. These gaudy homes just scratch the surface."

"So, now my real question is—how did you weasel your way in? How are you seriously posing as a cult member?" You stretched your shaky hands towards the fire, desperate for warmth. "You can't be serious that you, an American, just waltzed into a French village and are pretending to play cultist," you said with heavy speculation, your stern eyes meeting his.

Leon's lip ticked, calm eyes unbreaking from yours.

"They have plenty of outlets funneling within the United States, which gave us the perfect opening. We intercepted communications from a faction of theirs based in the States and used them as a bleed for information. Eventually, it was requested that they, we, send over a high-ranking nobility to come to France to one, act as a messenger, and two, be part of their transformation ritual."

"And that's where you came in?"

Leon's face went grave.

"Yeah, I trained to be and act like one of them. I learned every piece of information we know about this narcissistic vampire cult and its deviant religion. I've had to change everything about my life and thinking to be here. It's been months kissing ass in the hope of more information."

The room was becoming increasingly warm, and you started to feel claustrophobic in your winter clothing. You began to shed your layers of outerwear.

"That sounds awful. I can't believe you've made it out here, alone, for so long..." you paused for a moment but resumed, "but please, tell me that it has been worth it."

The question loomed thick in the air as you struggled with your boots, eventually kicking them off and walking to the fire to warm your cold, damp feet.

You could really get a good look at Leon here. He wore a tight black shirt that emphasized his muscular build and black cargo pants. His complexation looked soft against the warm firelight, juxtaposing the intensity of his prominent features.

He, too, seemed to be taking in your appearance as you sauntered toward the light. What he was thinking about was absolutely unknown, as he remained stone-faced.

"It has," he said, breaking the silence. "It has been worth it."

Leon's eyes drifted to his hands as if in a trance.

"What we now know about the cultists can completely change the course of this fight. But as I push forward, it's not going to be easy. I don't think this is going to end smoothly. That's why I needed backup." Leon cleared his throat. But there is a catch, too."

His eyes darted up to meet yours. You tensed, straightening your back, an inquisitive eyebrow raised.

"The king, that fucking king, wants me to bring my lover."

Although you were briefed on this situation prior, nothing could have prepared you for hearing it from him directly.

You laughed-- partly to ease the tension, but mainly because the mission-altering crux for the honored agent is his girlfriend.

"It's crazy, I know, but it couldn't be a more perfect invitation to bring another agent in." His cheeks flushed with the slightest hue of red.

"Please, tell me how you got into this situation in the first place". You tried to contain your laughter but failed.

Leon breathed an exasperated sigh.

"Well, the Lords, false prophets more like, banter about their romantic conquests. And well, after they all had drowned on about all the unsavory details, they looked at me, awaiting what story I had to tell."

"And what did you tell 'em?"

"I did what I had to do. I made up stories about having a girlfriend at home... And whatever else would keep them from asking too many questions."

You nodded.

"They also bring their women to the castle and flaunt them like furs. Sometimes, it's literally for their blood. Most of the time, it's just to stroke their own ego by having pretty women hanging off them." Leon added.

Of course, the power-hungry vampire kings saw women as conquests. Ultimately, it shouldn't surprising that it would come to this.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

It's been a long, long day.

You have all the information you need at this point, and the exhaustion is quickly overtaking you.

You yawn with outstretched arms, relaxing them to rub your heavy eyelids. Your body is finally warm, and you realize how well the bone-chilling cold kept you awake.

"I'll show you to your room," Leon said, helping you collect the things you dumped around the room. He led you down a darkened hallway to your bedroom.

"There are some clothes and a few other things you may need. If you need anything else, my room is just across the hall," he stated, setting your things down.

"Is there anything I need to know about tomorrow?" You added before Leon could step out of the room.

"You'll have the day to adjust. We'll go over the mission then. Just focus on resting up for now."

His lips came to a subtle smile, "Goodnight."

You smiled back, "Goodnight to you too."

You surveyed the room, starting with the armoire. It was full of clothes that looked like they were from another time: grand dresses with sheer, lacy fabrics of black and red with low sweeping necklines. There was also a long black hooded cape, corsets, and tall-heeled boots. The drawers below housed underwear and pajamas.

You slipped off your dingy clothes for a long black strappy nightgown from the armoire.

You hid your weapons around the room, your rifle, machete, and extra ammo in the closet, your knives in the vanity, and your pistol tucked under the mattress.

Like the rest of the decor, the bed was ornate. It was intricately carved out of the same ashwood as the cabin. The white sheets were plush and soft to the touch.

After securing your room, you crawled into bed. Falling almost immediately into sleep.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

Blinding white winter's light singed your vision as you woke up in a panic, a persistent cracking noise echoed from outside. It was a splintering sound as if someone was trying to get in.

You stealthily crawled out of bed and cracked open the bedroom curtain to peer outside. Nothing of interest could be seen, only the quiet woods blanketed by fresh snow.

The woods were now illuminated by sunshine, making them appear significantly less intimidating than last night. That didn't make them any less haunting, though.

Pistol in hand, You tiptoed through the house in search of Leon. First, you knocked on his bedroom door, and when he didn't answer, you investigated the rest of the house.

There were no signs of Leon, only the smell of something cooking and the sound of that grating thudding noise echoing through the house.

You silently opened the front door and exited barefoot, the coldness of the snow against your skin sending shivers up your spine. The satin fabric of your nightgown offered no protection from the elements.

One step at a time, you sneaked around the side of the house. The thudding got louder with each pace, and your heartbeat raced with adrenaline.

Carefully, You rounded the corner to the source of the noise. Arms straight, gun drawn.

Leon's eyes, bewildered, raked your figure, and he huffed a laugh, "Good morning, super cop. You must be freezing."

He looked down the barrel of the gun before you put it down.

He was just chopping wood.

Clearly, your senses were on high alert. You felt embarrassed that something so trivial and ordinary ticked those mental alarms.

Defensively, you retorted, "Well, I'm not the one chopping wood in a creepy vampire town first thing in the morning! For God's sake, I thought someone was breaking in or attacking!" You huffed, crossing your arms, a once panicked stare turning to one of annoyance.

Leon dropped the axe in the snow, reaching for a large piece of wood.

"And coming outside, in the dead of winter, wearing only a nightgown would have made a difference?" Leon said with a smirk, but it dropped quickly as he again reached for the axe to chop another piece of wood.

"And a gun! You seemed to have missed that part, and what else was I supposed to do? Spend 10 minutes putting my gear on?" You argued with a pout. Muscles tensed as adrenaline melted away.

You were still waking up and not in the mood to argue. But yes, you definitely could have kicked ass in your pajamas.

"Okay, okay, I promise I'm done pestering you. Breakfast is on the stove. You should go eat."

Begrudgingly, you walked back inside, mumbling your frustrations to yourself. It's safe to say you're not a fan of rude awakenings.

While lounging on the couch, you ate the breakfast of eggs and bacon Leon had prepared. You flipped through your logbook, filling in everything that happened in the last 24 hours.

Leon opened the front door, shaking off his snow-covered clothing before entering. He'd been out there for hours, and it was evident in the sweat that lingered down the side of his forehead.

Standing in the foyer, Leon peeled off his brown fur-lined bomber jacket and casually pulled the sweat-drenched black t-shirt over his head.

You watched him from where you sat on the couch, a bit confused as he acted as if no one was around.

You got a glimpse of the toned plane that was his back. He stretched his arms out, unintentionally giving you a better view. He rolled out his sore shoulder blades for a moment, and you discreetly watched from the corner of your eye.

You stifled whatever the fuck that feeling was and resumed your logbook.

In an attempt to find some grievance, you cleared your throat. It was subtle enough not to seem suspicious but clear enough that Leon definitely heard you.

But you're sure he was aware of you the entire time.

Leon walked toward the hallway and said, "I have a business to take care of at the castle; when I get back, we'll go over what's expected for the mission tomorrow. You'll find the notebook I've kept about these people on the bookshelf. You should skim it to familiarize yourself."

He walked into the bathroom without waiting for your reply. The only sound was the door shutting behind him.

Leon had left to take care of his end of the mission, and you remained alone in the cabin for the rest of the day.

You bathed and changed into real clothes, skipping over the elaborate dresses in favor of the spare black jeans and long-sleeve t-shirt you packed.

You left your bedroom to head to the living room but stopped at Leon's door adjacent to yours.

You were curious about what his room looked like, and rightfully so. He was rather serious, not letting off much about his personal side. Even while working, other agents, like Jill Valentine, had more outward displays of self-identity.

You wondered what the man behind the agent's identity was like, But you respectfully kept walking.

Typically, you're not overly curious about your cohorts, But people like Leon and Jill lived through the same tragedy you did. You often felt alone in your pain, But you found a sliver of comfort in knowing that you, in fact, were not.

You flipped through the very detailed notes Leon had taken. He explained the parasite they intended to use for "world domination," the pecking order amongst the rulers, detailed maps of the castle, and whatever else he found out.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

"Hey, wake up," Leon said gently, nudging your shoulder.

You woke up sitting on the floor, arms crossed and body hunched over the coffee table.

Through blurry vision, you saw Leon beside you, wearing a fancy white dress shirt and a tie loose around his neck.

"What time is it?" You mumbled, sitting up to stretch out your very numb legs.

"Late—I got back about an hour ago, I made dinner if you're hungry."

Leon reached out a hand, and you took it. Grunting as he helped you up.

"Yeah, I am," You replied, your stomach grumbling.

You sat at the dining table with Leon. He prepared grilled veggies and chicken for dinner, which was surprisingly good.

"How'd it go," you asked between bites.

"Fine, everything is going according to plan. We're all set for tomorrow," Leon replied,

"What exactly are we doing tomorrow?" you raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sure you saw those dresses in your room. You'll have to wear one, but it's easy from there. You'll stay quiet and follow my lead. You'll have to act like my girlfriend. But it will also be a good time to familiarize yourself with the castle and, you know, memorize the layout."

Leon took a sip of wine and offered you a gentle look, "Are you okay with that?"

You replied, "Of course I am. It's a pretty small price to pay to take these fuckers down." You flashed a cheeky grin before taking a sip of your wine. "We got this."

You continued to talk over dinner, going back and forth and sharing each other's backgrounds. You told Leon about your experience in Raccoon City— what had happened and how you'd escaped it.

But for you, It was surreal hearing about Leon's involvement in the incident. Hearing about the people he saved, the enemies he took down, and the sacrifices he made were… Comforting.

Comforting to know someone else could actually relate to you.

Comforting to know there is hope.

You know there are scars deep below the surface—you know that from experience. But meeting someone who still cares so much about helping others proves that those wounds do, in fact, heal.

You and Leon cleaned up the kitchen before saying goodnight and heading to your rooms for the night.

You lay in your plush bed, unable to sleep. Your mind is whirring with a frenzy of emotions. Your conversation with Leon is still sinking in. The nerves concerning tomorrow's mission stake their claim.

It's okay. It's okay.

You try to soothe yourself. Suppress whatever unreconciled emotions were brought up.

Just finish the mission.

— PART II —

A beautifully lavish Victorian-style ball gown adorned your body. It has a flowing tiered skirt constructed from deep, blood-red satin. The bodice was corseted tightly to your abdomen, pushing your breasts up so that they are nearly spilling out of the gown's low square neckline. The quarter sleeves fit tightly but poof out at your elbows with frilly lace. The whole ensemble is accented with black bows and delicate lacework.

You watched yourself in the vanity mirror as you carefully pinned your hair up. Enchanted by the unfamiliar person the mirror reflected back.

This wasn't you. But a princess.

A princess who has never killed or witnessed the mass extinction of innocent people. A princess who didn't have to give up her normal life against her will.

Although seeing yourself dressed up like the beautiful person you'll never be was strange. But maybe, battle-scarred government agents could wear pretty dresses, sometimes.

With your hair set in place, you head to the living room, where you are met by Leon in an equally uncharacteristic outfit.

He took in your appearance, a smile decorating his face. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words came out.

You filled the silence instead. "You look nice." You spoke softly.

He did look nice.

Leon wore a billowy white shirt with ruffles along the neckline. The plunging neckline had a small corset-style detail, and it was tucked into a pair of perfectly fitted black trousers.

Simple, but effectively good-looking. The fit of his clothes came off as rich and a little romantic. Well suited for a band of vampires.

"As do you," Leon said, voice deep and restricted.

You hid your face by looking down at your shoes, concealing the growing flush along your cheeks. "Thank you." You said in almost a whisper.

"Are you ready?" he asked, offering his arm to you.

You nod in affirmation and thread your arm through his.

Leon led you through a little stone path through the woods. At this time, it was only about an hour before dusk.

The combination of winter woods and the near-setting sun created an image of beautiful calm. If you were to let your mind wander, It would feel like you were on a date, taking a stroll through the forest.

"I told you these cultists were sick bastards, right?" Leon said too casually.

You nod, "Yes, you definitely mentioned that."

The dense woods begin to clear, and the path leads to a small village. At the horizon, the pointed spikes of a grand castle make a lethal appearance. You take it all in, honing yourself into a covert weapon. Descending into this "character" of unexpected harm.

"And you understand that how I'll behave tonight is all a part of the act?" Leon asks for your assurance one last time before entering the village.

Your heels land on the cobblestone that had been cleared of snow. The warm glow of the town's candlelight radiates as the sun begins to set.

Making brief eye contact with a villager, you squeeze Leon's arm a little tighter and murmur, "I could say the same to you, my lord." A wicked smile now painted your face.

Leon whispered lowly, "Glad to see you're committed to the bit."

As a pair, you two walked through the town's main pathway, a straight shot to the looming castle ahead. You noted that the townspeople were off.

Very, very off.

They behaved more like mindless zombies than people; their eyes glowed crimson red. Most of them just walked by idly, with no sense of purpose. Others stood hauntingly still, staring at you so intensely you felt it in your soul.

Even the farm animals that lingered on the streets were off. They walked erratically, and their eyes glowed, too.

This place gave you the creeps. Typical Umbrella.

Reaching the castle at last— It demanded your attention with its many oversized spires and massive arched windows. Light flowed red through the stained glass, adding to its intensity.

The snow-covered graveyard and cross-tipped spires informed you this wasn't just a castle but an unholy cathedral.

You had to walk through the graveyard to reach the entrance. You noted the tombstones engraved with outdated French names and dates as far back as the 1800s. It all added to the ancient terror surrounding the looming cathedral.

Upon arriving, the massive arched door began to creak open, and a man clad in a dark red suit greeted the two of you with a thick French accent. "Good evening, Sir Kennedy. We are so very pleased that you and your-" he paused, a sly smile forming, "madame, could make it."

Leon did not reply to the doorman.

He walked past with his head held high and eyes peering downwards. His look emanated superiority as if he had no interest in conversation with a man so far below him.

Leon grabbed your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours, guiding you up the curved stairs that dominated the foyer.

You passed servants who wore simple, white, floor-length dresses with aprons and bonnets. Each servant stopped in their tracks to bow their head as you, he, walked past.

The action sent chills down your spine.

What was the true extent of power he reached in this so-called monarchy?

You arrived at a grand arched doorway swirled with ornamental gold detailing. Two men opened the doors in unison, letting you through.

Elegant music flooded the huge open ballroom. Orchestral pianos and violins serenaded your ears.

People waltzed, people drank wine, people talked, and the vampires watched.

On the dais, the looming darkness of men sitting on ornate thrones watched the every move of the people below.

Every seat was occupied except for one.

Everything suddenly stopped. The music went silent, and the people parted, bowing their heads down.

Slowly, you two approached the dais, Standing hand in hand at the steps. The man who sat in the centermost seat smiled devilishly. "Glad you could make it, Lord Kennedy." His French accent was thick.

Leon bowed his head. "Of course, your majesty."

"Why would you want to miss a ball as extravagant, as special, as this one, anyways? Lord Kennedy, we wouldn't want to disappoint our guest, wouldn't we?"

The Lord ticked an eyebrow, reaching a pale, lanky hand to you.

Leon's breath seized but quickly relaxed as he let go of your hand, hinting for you to accept.

You gracefully walked the steps, rhythmically breathing in and out to offset the heavy heartbeat that accompanied each step. The air loomed cold and silent as the echoes of your footsteps filled the hall.

The King was pale as fresh snow, with icy blue veins protruding from his skin. His eyes were glowing red, and long black hair cascaded down his shoulders to his chest. He wore an ornate gold, black, and red suit and a crown topped his head. He looked as if he was once very handsome, but now, he is not so good-looking.

You rested your hand on him, avoiding eye contact. His freezing touch sent a shiver through you.

The King lowered his head and placed a prolonged kiss on the back of your hand. His left hand grabbed your upper arm, turning it so your wrist faced upward. He ran his fingers down your arm, resting on your wrist. A devilish grin formed on his thin lips, presumably from the pleasure in whatever he found in you.

His head raised, but his hand remained fixed on your wrist. You made eye contact this time. His gleaming eyes burrowing into yours.

You could feel your hot blood running against his cold touch. Your pulse filled the silence of the too-quiet ballroom. You wanted to run, but not without a fight, and get out of this Umbrella Corporation daymare.

"Ma chérie," he whispered into your skin.

There is no running. No fighting. Today, you must pretend.

Leon stood beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist, his eyes dark, looking down at the still-seated King.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Leon asked rhetorically, a bite in his tone.

The Lord laughed, releasing your hand.

"No need to be so overbearing, Leon. N'aie pas peur. Please sit and join your fellow nobility."

The last empty chair was his. You scanned the other taken thrones. Some of the men were already turned, marked distinctively by glowing, crimson eyes and a lifeless complexion.

Although some, like Leon, had not yet been turned.

From your reading the previous day, you learned that in the eyes of the cult immortality was a privilege, not a right. They believed one must earn that privilege by dedicated service to the organization before even being considered.

Leon took a seat, relaxing on his throne. You stood beside him awkwardly, not entirely knowing what to do. But, with a tap at your side, you figured it out.

You perched on Leon's lap, your billowy dress flowing over his legs and spilling like blood onto the marble floor. He wrapped a hand around your corseted abdomen, and the other rested in your lap.

Your heart raced a little harder.

"You must be in need of a drink." The King asked.

"Some music would be nice, too," Leon said with a scoff loud enough for musicians on the floor to hear.

The music resumed, and again, the bowing people began dancing. Still, it was finally replaced by the movement and energy of song and dance.

One of the white dress servants arrived with two glasses full of red wine upon a silver platter. Leon made no effort to grab them, so you took them both, passing one off to him.

Leon pressed his lips up to your ear, "drink up, baby," he whispered.

You almost forgot— even your whispers could be herd by the immortal's keen hearing. Every thing that was said, even in a murmur, had to be in line.

It was strange to hear him talk like that, but admittedly you weren't bothered. Although the closeness was unexpected, It's been a long time since you were this close to someone. It had been a year? Maybe two? Since you were at all intimate with another person.

It felt good. He radiated warmth, his touch was gentle, and his handsomeness unmatched.

You downed your glass while Leon sipped on his. His scanning eyes watched the crowd, occasionally flickering back to the King but always ending on you.

He admired as your painted lips caressed the edge of the fine crystal wine glass and how your throat bobbed with each drink.

He called for a refill and demanded more, which the servants promptly fulfilled, And they kept it coming. After every glass you two emptied, they refilled.

Amongst themselves, Leon and the vampire Lords talked about courtly business. and as they talked, Leon's large hands ran down your leg, pulling up your skirt, and exposing up to your knee.

They were talking about war, and all rather intense subject matters. But Leon's hand kept working higher up your legs. Petting and caressing every bit of exposed skin. The King couldn't look away, neither could the other lords, or even the people below.

He used you as a spectacle, to assert his dominance, and power over the rest of the court, and it worked. The commoners were afraid of him, and the lords respected him. He mastered the facade of villainous superiority that belittled all in its path. One that possessed his lover entirely and wanted the world to know it.

His lavish touch across your legs, mixed with the headiness of the wine, brought you to a euphoric state. Coaxed by his affection, you can't help but submit.

Your back arched into his abdomen, yearning for more touch. You could not recall any of the words spoken around you, only the ecstasy of his lips meeting your neck. A soft whisper of a kiss was all he gave you, but your breathing hitched, and your body heated.

You were damned. Damned for liking it as much as you did.

He paused for a moment. Only a minute's break in time, and he still left you internally begging like a dog.

"My, my, what a statement you're making, Lord Kennedy. You plan on sharing?" The King taunted, practically drooling at your bare, pawing legs.

You spoke for the first time the entire night, causing every member of the court's head (that wasn't already) to turn.

"No."

You shot an arrow through the King's fragile pride.

The King's lip twitched. "What a defiant whore you managed to fish up."

Leon laughed, grinning wildly, "Oh, well, you should see how well she obeys me." He patted your thigh in approval, placing an absolutely panty-drenching kiss along your neck.

The King rolled his eyes, but lords couldn't hide their amusement as they stifled back laughter.

Leon rested his knuckle under your chin, "Go on, my love, apologize."

The King retorted snappily, "There's no need for that."

Thank God.

You took an extra large drink of wine to ease the tension, falling back into Leon's warm chest.

They continued on as if nothing ever happened, talking about things you knew nothing about.

Leon listened, cool and aloof, but his hands satiated your need. He resumed the game of inching higher up your leg. His warm fingers trace dizzying circles along your inner thigh.

His calloused fingers felt rough and masculine against your velvet soft skin. He squeezed your thigh, accidentally eliciting a lusty whimper from you.

"You like that, don't you, pretty girl?" Leon's breath grazed along your neck, his lips taunting you mere centimeters away from your bare skin.

You pressed your back into the hardness of his body, a needy and desperate attempt for more—more of his lavish touch. You didn't even care who saw.

You turned a cheek, sharing Leon's darkened, sultry gaze. The usual warmth in his pale blue eyes was totally vacant. He observed you like prey, nothing more than a deer in the crosshairs.

The hand that rested on your waist dragged up to your face and cupped your jaw, his thumb petting your lip, transferring your red lipstick to his skin.

His grip on your thigh intensified, digging hard into your skin. Your lips parted with a soft gasp, and your legs opened wider in response to his touch.

Hunter and hunted.

Leon bit his lip as he slid his finger into your mouth. Your lips puckered pretty around his finger, and Leon watched in feral attraction as you teased him with the tip of your tongue. You oozed confidence and sultry submission, letting your doe eyes do the talking.

The lines between the act and reality truly blurred.

The way he touched you felt too real, too right. You craved more than just the teasing.

As if in an answer, Leon's hands migrated lower and lower down your abdomen. Finally, working to where you craved most. But, he couldn't find the proof of how good he made you feel. Your soaking wet underwear would be damning to your case.

In a desperate attempt, you arched your back, attempting to pull yourself away from his wandering touch. In turn, you could feel the unmistakable hardness in his pants pressing against your back.

Oh, he wanted you too. At this stage, you both should just be condemned.

The on-lookers watched from below as you pressed into Leon's length. You ground yourself against him. Your skin glowed with sweat, and strands of hair were falling from your updo and swept around your face.

There were no secrets in the way you felt; you practically radiated sex, intimacy, and everything in between.

One of Leon's hands dragged up your body and grasped your ribcage directly under your breast. The other rested on your collarbones. He pulled your ear to his lips and whispered, "Don't let it go to your head."

You swallowed, heart racing. "What?"

Leon's arrogant grin now pressed against your ear. "That every man in this room is imagining themselves in my place. Don't forget that you belong to me, darling."

"I would never-" You were cut short by Leon's grip tightening around your abdomen.

"Don't patronize me," he demanded, but his white-knuckle grip loosened and transformed into apologetic strokes down your side.

"Yes, my lord." Sweet and submissive.

The King seemed to approve, as marked by an appraising nod he shared with Leon.

A servant walked by, head hung low, and Leon's voice cracked like thunder. "Wine, now." Pure demand in his voice.

You drank the seemingly bottomless glasses of wine Leon ordered. You should have stopped, but you drank on to avoid any unfavorable conversations.

Tonight, you learned that French vampires love to drink.

The night grew late-- You, Leon, and the other Lords were drunker than sailors. Conversations of importance were divulged into off-topic chit-chat and banter. The people below slow-danced to the soft ballads that hummed through the castle.

It was a struggle to stay awake. All the wine, the music, the expectations, the teasing. It tired you out. Your head lay in Leon's chest, soaking up his sent-- Open sky and rugged woods. Your dainty hands gracefully stroked his exposed chest, painting little circles, occasionally your hands reached up to play with his pretty blonde hair. Leon languidly stroked your arm, head resting lazily to the side.

Leon sat up, shifting you with him, and cleared his throat, "My king, It's been a pleasure, but we should head back now."

"Why don't you just say the night? I would hate to see your poor madame walk all the way back to your... Maison, this late."

You and Leon exchanged a look; you weren't exactly sure if he had accounted for this in his plan. Your eyebrows threaded together, a look of annoyance and confusion, but Leon quickly turned away.

"What a hospitable offer, your highness." He responded eloquently. He knew that someone who was actually in his place would never reject an offer like that.

"It's the least I can do for you, Lord Kennedy; after all, you've been so dedicated to our cause." A sly villain-like smirk formed on the King's lips.

Leon politely bowed his head in acknowledgment.

The King snapped his fingers, and without an exchange of words, a servant was at the throne you and Leon shared.

You both stood up and followed her, hand in hand.

You passed by the other Lords still seated along the dais. Their prowling eyes raked your body as you walked by. Leon was right; you were in everyone's minds. Stripped bare and doing unspeakable things to them.

It repulsed you to be thirsted over by depraved vampire lords, but in some sacrilegious facet of your mind, you were flattered by it. You even walked in a way that accentuated your hips, teasing them just a little more.

You were just passing the King's throne when suddenly someone grabbed your arm. It was the King who had implored his icy hand around your arm, pulling you into him. You gasped as he bent you over the armrest of his throne and placed a kiss on your cheek. "Bonne nuit, ma chérie" He whispered in your ear.

He activated your desire to fight back; you wanted to place your hands around the scrawny King's neck and kill him right there. You could without any resistance, too.

But, you suppressed your urge. Sweet and submissive, you told yourself. You already got yourself in enough trouble with your previous stunt, best not to ruin it now.

"Goodnight, your Highness," you muttered back as dainty and feminine as you could manage.

The King released you, and as you took a step back, you were in Leon's chest; his arms were quick to wrap around you, like a knight in shining armor waiting for his princess.

As you left the dais, the people of the ballroom once again stopped dancing, and bowed as you and Leon walked through, escorted by the servant.

She showed you to your room, opened the door, bowed, and left promptly.

The room was entirely white and gold, similar in design to the rest of the castle, but featuring a giant bed in the middle of the room with a canopy of pooling gauzy fabric.

"What are we supposed to do now?" you whispered once the door was closed behind you.

Leon rubbed the temples of his forehead as if he had a headache, "I'm not sure. I didn't expect him to want us to stay the night."

You looked around the room, unsure of what to do now. "Should we escape?"

Leon peaked his head out the window, surveying the area, "That's an option, but risky," he muttered. "It would blow our cover when they inevitably found us gone. The plan was to kill the nobility a few days from now, on the full moon. That's when they're planning on turning one of the human lords immortal."

"Why does it have to be then? Can't it just be now? They're all drunk and lounging around, for God's sake!" You accidentally raised your voice, and Leon shushed you by pressing his finger to your lips.

"When they turn someone immortal, they have to use the parasite... The plan is to steal the parasite during the ceremony and then kill them. We need to bring it back to America so it can be studied.

But, I haven't been able to find where they store them; as far as I'm aware, only the King knows. That's why I've been waiting for the ceremony."

"So... We stay?" you said defeatedly.

"Unfortunately."

You looked around the room, rummaging through the wardrobe and the various drawers throughout. Everything was empty except for the Holy Bible in a desk drawer.

"You can have the bed, I'll take the couch." Leon offered kicking off his boots before sitting on the small white and gold couch.

"That couch is so small, you can have the bed." You tried to negotiate.

"No, no, it's all yours. I've slept on much worse than this." He said, stretching his legs out along the couch. It was too short for him, so his feet dangled off the armrest.

You sighed; there's no point in arguing.

"Well, I can't sleep in this dress. It weighs about 20lbs, and it's too damn hot."

"There was no spare clothes?" Leon asked.

"Nope."

Leon looked around the room, eyebrows stitched together in thought, before he resolved, "You can have my shirt."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, It's no trouble at all, really."

Leon remained where he was on the couch, eyes closed.

You stood on the other side of the room, fumbling with the corseting on your dress, unable to unlace it. "How the hell did I even get this on earlier?" you mumbled to yourself.

Leon's eyes perked open, watching you struggle. He cleared his throat, "Do you need help with that?"

You didn't answer but still struggled.

Leon took it upon himself to help you. He walked over and began unlacing the many rows of tight lacing along the back of your dress.

"Thank you," you said so very quietly.

"I wanted to apologize for earlier, I—"

You cut him off, "Don't—You don't have to apologize. I understand, truly."

Silence loomed over the room, and only the sound of fabric rustling filled the void. You tried to find the right words to say, but you came up empty-handed.

Leon reached the last eyelet, and you held the gown at the bust so it wouldn't fall off. Although you admittedly wouldn't mind if it did.

Your back was entirely exposed to him, only inches away from pressing against his chest. Your mind slipped— what if you took a step back? Let him do what you want him to do. Let him explore your body even more than he did earlier.

His strong hands could surely do a lot, and his pretty blonde hair would look great between your legs—

God damn.

Leon broke your silent daydream by taking off his white-ruffled shirt. He handed it off to you at your side, gentlemen-like.

He meandered back to the couch, resuming his position of outstretched legs along the cushions, closing his eyes.

You checked over your shoulder to ensure his eyes were closed, and then you let your dress fall to the ground.

You dawned Leon's shirt. The cottony fabric felt soft against your skin and smelled overwhelming like him, rugged and masculine.

In the mirror, you watched yourself let down your updo, letting your hair fall and combing it out with your fingers. Here is where you noticed that Leon's shirt is just a little too sheer.

The outline of your silhouette was vaguely noticeable through his airy shirt, but your nipples were definitely visible.

Oh well.

You folded up the gown and placed it at the foot of the bed atop the quilted velvet ottoman. You were about to get into bed before peaking one more glance at Leon.

He was statuesque in the way his body stretched along the couch. He had a hand atop his very defined abs, and his other arm dangled off the couch.

The faint blueish hue of the moon illuminated him in gentle light, it was the only light in the room, save for the single lit candle next to the bed.

Leon was so pretty in the way he slept. He looked so at peace, so beautiful, and so kissable.

It pained you to not invite him to your bed; maybe in another lifetime, you would have.

But you certainly could not let him sleep without a blanket or a pillow.

You peeled off the first blanket layer of your bed, grabbed one of the many over-filled pillows, and tiptoed to where Leon rested.

Gently, you set a folded blanket on the foot of Leon's bed, causing him to open his eyes.

"What are you doing?" Leon's mumble trailed off into a yawn.

You whispered, "I don't want you to get cold, so I'm giving you some of my blankets."

Leon smiled faintly. "Oh, I see…" he trailed off and then added, "Thanks for that."

You looked pretty; your hair and makeup were a mess but in all the right ways.

Leon noticed how pretty you were. How pretty you were in his shirt, with nothing else underneath.

"I hope this is enough for you."

"Yes, it's more than enough," he reassured.

"I'm going to head to my bed then, goodnight Leon."

He didn't show it, and you would never know it, but he loved how you said his name.

"Goodnight to you, too."

In that moment, time stood still. You couldn't walk away. You wanted to bask in the shared space of each other's gazes, bound by lust. Leon, too, made no attempt to break away.

You'll probably regret it later, but there is no harm in trying, right?

Instead of leaving, you bent down as if to pick something up, but you stopped when you reached his ear.

"Leon..." You whispered quietly.

"Yes?"

Your heartbeat raced so fast it felt like it was gonna jump out of your chest. "Do you really want me to go?"

Leon paused, raking his mind for the correct answer. "No."

He turned his head, pressing his forehead to yours, and resting his hand on the back of your neck, running his fingers through your hair.

"I didn't want to either," you said breathily.

He smiled and kissed you. The first real kiss you shared. It felt like a wave of warmth crashing down your body, every one of your instincts telling you yes. His lips were soft and gentle against your own.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you," Leon whispered into the kiss.

You replied, "Me neither."

Leon pulled you by your waist, sitting you on top of him, and deepened the kiss by grazing his tongue against yours. He tasted purely of wine.

Your hands ran desperately through Leon's hair as his hands caressed your ribcage down to your hips. His grasp settled onto your waist, stroking his thumbs along your ribs. You playfully bit his lip, praising the way he touched you.

Leon's lips broke away from yours, and they began to press small kisses down your cheek, and then your neck, and then your chest. Every single one felt like pure ecstasy against your skin.

Your arms wrapped around Leon's neck as you arched your back, pressing your chest deeper into his kiss. His grasp along your waist tightened with your movement.

He was aching and so hard in the confined trousers he still wore; Leon rocked you against himself while he made out with your chest.

You moaned with gasping breaths at the feeling of him rutting into you, your head falling back carelessly.

Leon's hand met the spots he kissed, dancing along the wet skin of your chest. His wandering fingers teased the outer edge of the shirt you wore, wanting to pull it down. His lips followed down the V of the shirt, But before he could do anything more, you raised your arms, slipping the shirt over your head.

You were entirely exposed to him, save for your underwear. Leon thanked you by pressing kisses along your pretty breasts, thumbs twirling around your hardened nipples. His lips met where his thumbs danced, puckering his lips around your nipples, stroking and sucking them with his tongue.

You gasped, nearly at the edge of becoming undone. Leon worshipped your breasts like his own personal deity, letting out low, strained moans.

You lost all sense of control, grinding yourself into Leon's bulging lap, getting off at the sensation of his cock twitching for you.

"More," You moaned as Leon released the suck on your nipple with a wet-sounding smack.

You pressed down on Leon's chest, pushing him into the couch.

God, you looked so lovely and desperate from Leon's perspective.

Your hands slipped between your legs, resting on the bulge that strained between them. You caressed him through the fabric, teasing him with a pouty smirk.

Leon's mouth gaped slightly, sucking in a breath as he watched you adore him. You nimbly unbuttoned his pants, pulling down the zipper.

Leon sat up and pushed you back so your legs wrapped around his waist. He stood up, picking you up with ease, and walked you to the bed, gently resting you onto the fortress of overstuffed pillows.

He took off his trousers before joining you, his protruding cock making a tent in his underwear.

"You're beautiful," Leon fawned at your figure before bending down to kiss your thighs. "I loved touching your legs earlier, darling," he added.

You're fully melting at his sugar-covered affections.

You sat up, taking Leon's head in your delicate hands with a devouring kiss. You pulled him back, so he laid on top of you. One of his arms embraced you, and the other brushed between your legs.

His fingers toyed with you, sweetly caressing you through your soaked underwear. You moaned into the kiss as Leon began tracing small circles over the fabric. His hands then nuzzled beneath your underwear, meeting your aching sex fully.

His calloused fingers lapped your cunt, but ended on your clit, circling it gently. You broke from his kiss, head arching back from the intensity of pleasure you felt. Leon licked his lips as he watched you fold under him. Leon tugged off your underwear, deepening your pleasure as he rubbed his fingers around your opening.

Your hands, in desperate need of touch, caressed the expanse of Leon's amazingly defined torso. It alone killed you, the sheer strength he possessed. He was trained into a lethal weapon, but man, did he feel so good.

From Leon's torso, you ventured lower, tugging at the waistband of his underwear. Leon's gaze met your begging doe eyes, pleading him for more.

With your help, he pulled off his underwear, releasing his pretty, throbbing cock. Your hand softly wrapped around his length, petting him slowly. Leon's breath hitched as you did so.

You wrapped a leg around Leon's waist, pulling yourself up to straddle him. Perched on his lap, you rested your soaking cunt onto the length of his cock. Leon's hands dug into your hips, grinding his himself against your folds.

"Leon," you gasped, soaking in the feeling of him beneath you.

He moaned, hungrily watching the way your bodies met.

He sat up, pressing his chest against your stomach, and pressed kisses along your breasts. As he did so, he lifted you up by the waist, giving himself just enough space to push his length into you.

Loudly, you whimpered as his length filled your entire cunt. You bounced yourself on Leon as he sucked your nipples.

Leon released you from his mouth, lying back down, fingers digging into your upper thighs as he fucked himself into you hard. Letting his entire length fill you up before pulling back.

You couldn't help your hopeless cries and moans as his pace picked up, fucking you like the world depended on it. Maybe it did.

You were a few forceful pumps away from reaching your peak, and as you forced yourself into him even deeper, Leon lifted you up by the waist, off of him.

Dazed, you whined, "Why."

He only responded by nudging you over onto your hands and knees, spreading your legs wide for himself.

Leon's cock pressed at your entrance while his hand toyed with your clit, teasing you. He so very slowly pushed himself in, making you feel every inch of his length as he entered you.

"Just like that," he hushed under a moan and then rammed his cock into you, building up speed, fucking you faster and faster.

Your nails dug into the bed sheets, reaching for something that does not exist. Leon smacked your ass with a deep moan as his tip reached even deeper inside of you.

The only noise filling the room was the sound of your skin clapping against his and your shared feverish moans.

"You feel so good," you cooed, pawing at the sheets. "I don't think I can last much longer."

He slowed down his pace, pulling his cock almost entirely out of you before inching himself back in. "You can last just a little longer for me, pretty girl."

"Okay, yes, please just fuck me harder," you pleaded. Grinding yourself on his length, desperate for more than he was giving.

"Well, since you asked so nicely," Leon groaned and fucked you so hard that the bed was shaking back and forth. His arm reached up from behind, grasping your neck in his hand. He was hunched over you, fingers squeezing your jaw as he plunged deeper and faster.

His teeth were clenched, and his breath was fast as he burrowed his throbbing cock so far into your cunt that you came completely undone, crying his name as you rode your climax out.

"Leon, Leon, Leon," you cried as your wetness dripped down his leg.

Leon's breath seized as he pulled himself out of you, resting his cock on the small of your back, spilling hot all over your skin.

His grasp loosened, trailing down your neck. His head rested on your back, reeling himself back from his climax.

You rested your body, splaying yourself along the bed. Leon got off of you and frantically looked around the room for something to wipe your back with. He settled on the blanket you had left for him on the couch, thinking to himself, their problem, not mine.

"Thanks," you giggled as he cleaned you off.

He crawled into bed, tucking into the massive billowy covers, and you did the same. You blew out the single candle next to the bedside, leaving only moonlight to douse the room.

Leon opened up his arm, beckoning you into his embrace.

You cuddled him, soaking up his scent and his warmth. All while relishing in the tingling euphoria your body felt.

"Goodnight, for real?" Leon said quietly, sleep heavy in his voice.

"Goodnight, for real, Leon." Your heavy lids shut, falling into sleep.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

You wake up on Leon's chest to a knock at the door. The morning sun singed the pounding headache induced by last night's wine-filled activities.

Leon woke up, too, wincing and rubbing his temples. He got out of bed, pulling on his underwear and pants.

Leon's hair was a disheveled mess, and the remnants of your lipstick still stained his neck and his cheek. He answered the door to one of the servants standing there.

She bowed, her thick French accent trembling. "Lord Kennedy, I apologize if I interrupted, but the king wants a word with you."

"Can you show me to the bath first? You can't seriously expect me to talk to him looking like this?" he sounded harsh, and you almost forgot about the character he had to play.

Her voice trembled. "Yes, of course, sir. Not that you look bad, but yes, I'll show you to the bath."

"And her too," the servant peaked her head through the doorway, under the arm that Leon propped himself up with, and saw you, sitting up in bed, covering your naked body with the duvet.

She immediately ducked back in line, "Yes, of course." she bowed her head once more.

Leon tossed you his shirt, which was lying on the ground beside the couch. Quickly put it on, and with a motion of his hand, Leon summoned you to him.

You acted shy, meekly hiding behind Leon.

"Follow me, My lord," The servant hushed, trailing you two down the hallway.

As you tiptoed down the hall, you were barefoot and more exposed than you cared to be. It felt slightly embarrassing, but there was no point in caring now, was there? At least you found amusement in a shirtless Leon.

The servant guided Leon to a bathroom for himself. She signaled him in with her hand while her head was low.

Before he entered, he added, looking down at the servant. "And get her a new dress, she can't go out looking like that... And she wouldn't be caught dead wearing her evening dress during the day, would she?" Leon sounded like an absolute asshole, but that was somehow amusing.

"Yes, my lord," She bowed for the 100th time.

He entered the bathing room, closing the door behind him, and the servant showed you to another bathroom.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

You bathed in a massive clawfoot tub, sweet floral soap washing off all the makeup and memories of last night.

You were not sure how to even feel about last night. You'd never slept with a coworker before; you barely sleep with anyone anymore. Is this going to make things awkward when you leave? Or are you to pretend nothing happened at all?

A servant knocked on the door, interrupting your silent pondering before letting herself in. She quietly hung a pretty cream-colored Victorian gown hanging behind the door.

"Madame, Lord Kennedy is speaking with the King. He has asked you to wait while they finish up. We prepared breakfast for you in the dining room in case they go long. When you're ready, the dining room is down the stairs and to the left."

Who are you kidding, there are more pressing issues ahead; you're bathing and being fed in a vampire cult's castle for God's sake.

"Thank you," you said sweetly.

The servant promptly left the bathroom with a bow.

Soon, you will eliminate these vile creatures and leave. You just have to tough it out a little longer. One more day of acting like a mild-tempered little plaything, and this will all be over.

part two coming soon xx

#thank you for reading <3 #i've been so nervous to post this eek #i hope you like it #academy fics✨#throne of his own #leon kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy smut #resident evil smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon resident evil #leon kennedy fanfic

336 notes · View notes

kimbappykidding · 2 months

Text

Imagine secretly dating San but all the Ateez members having a thing for you

Given San's confident stage presence everyone always got the wrong idea about him. They figured he'd be super into PDA and anything that made it obvious his partner was his and his alone. San wasn't like that though. He'd actually been the one to suggest keeping your relationship a secret. He wanted it to be special and something just between the two of you. He basically knew if the guys found out you'd no longer just be his. They'd start wanting to hang out with you and taking up your time. So you kept it a secret. However, San never expected another problem to arise...his members to fall for you.

San of course got it. You were a gorgeous fellow idol at the same company as them. You were smart, strong and cool. You had a hundred talents and looked good doing anything. So San understood why his members acted this way and at first, took it as a compliment that all his friends liked his girlfriend. But with time his members suddenly got a lot more confident and that worried San. They weren't hiding their feelings for you and if anything there seemed to be an outright war for your hand. This week alone San witnessed all his members shoot their shots with you. You passed San and Seonghwa on the corridor and had clearly just come from a fitting judging by your outfit. "Looking good Y/n" Seonghwa called as you passed and you smiled "wish I could say the same for you". "Ow come on you know you like me in this shirt or maybe you’d prefer me without it on?" Seonghwa said running a hand down his chest and you watched before shrugging "eh" and walked away. On the day your latest comeback came out, they played it in the company cafe the second you walked in and everyone started dancing to tease you and celebrate its success. The staff did it to film a reel but you stayed after that and joked around with all the other idols. Ateez were there and Hongjoong soon approached with an outstretched hand. You took it and playfully danced with him while Hongjoong grinned like a kid at Christmas while San watched, trapped on the other side of the room. You got the lift out at the same time as Ateez one night and Wooyoung chatted to you about your day. When you want to part ways he smiled "I guess I'll see you later then?" Wooyoung asked and you paused "you will?". He nodded "I'm my dreams" and you fell to the floor in mock swoon. San went to the gym one lunch break and did a double take as he saw you spotting Jongho over by the weights. The two of you seemed to be working out together and the maknae was definitely flexing his best weapon. Jongho's arms rivalled even San's and he looked down self-consciously. One dinner San came into the breakroom to get dinner and saw you and Yeosang eating dinner together. You were chatting happily, laughing and joking a lot which there was nothing wrong with but then San heard the flirting. "You have a really pretty smile" Yeosang told you and you smiled even more "thank you! So do you". Yeosang went bright pink. There was a company corporate event and you and Mingi happened to get stood beside one another. Some members of staff asked for a photo and you posed together. San saw you both trying not to laugh and found it amusing until it wasn't. All night after that you stuck together and whenever you need anything, a hand getting down the stairs, someone to hold your bag etc Mingi was that person. San came into the studio one morning and heard your laugh. He came around the corner to see you and Yunho sitting together on a sofa. Yunho was showing you something on his phone making you lean in together and Yunho had his arm around the back of your chair and looked very comfortable there. This all happened in one and so by the end San was very annoyed...that's why when one of the guys said your name in conversation he scoffed. He wasn't annoyed at you but thought it was typical they'd bring you up. They never seemed to leave you alone...but the members didn't interpret San's actions that way. Woyoung noticed San's reaction and looked at him "what's up with you?". "Nothing I just think the way you all act around Y/n is so stupid". "Just cus your blind and don't think she's hot" Mingi commented. San never joined in when the guys would mention you and his member took that to be dislike when it couldn't be further from the truth. "I never said I don't think she's hot I just don't throw myself at her the way you do". Seonghwa shrugged "Y/n's never complained about it so why do you have such a problem with it?". "Maybe she just feels uncomfortable telling you to back off" San asked speaking for you more than repeating what you'd said. Yunho frowned "has she said something? Is she really uncomfortable?". Wooyoung shook his head "no she hasn't. I spoke to her about it the other day and she said she finds it cute or fun depending on the members but wouldn't tell me who". San's jaw dropped but luckily the members were too busy, guessing who was fun and who was cute to notice. "I do think she's dating someone though" Seonghwa said and everyone paused. "What makes you think that?" Hongjoong asked. "Because...I asked her out and she didn't say no but also didn't say yes". "You asked her out? What about the rule none of us would ask her and wait for her to make a session?" Jongho asked. "Well, I thought I might help her make her decision" Seonghwa admitted "also I know Wooyoung also asked her out so I'm not alone". Wooyoung gasped but quickly admitted that he had asked you out. "Me too" Hongjoong said and Yunho shook his head "unbelievable! What about you three?" turning to Yeosang, Mingi and Jongho. They shook their heads. "No but now I'm thinking I should if she rejected these 3" Jongho said. "She didn't reject me she just said she'd think about it" Wooyoung said. Hongjoong nodded "we were both drunk when I asked her and she told me to re-think about it in the morning". "So she basically said no without saying no" Yeosang said and they all shrugged. "Hmmm maybe she doesn't like us" Mingi said. "No I think she's dating someone and just doesn't want to say. She doesn't want to draw attention to that so she just puts us off and doesn't admit it" Seonghwa said. The boys nodded when Wooyoung paused "what if she's dating one of us?". San froze and Hongjoong frowned "What?". "Think about it, she knows us best out of all the male idols right? So what if the person she's dating is one of us?". "Yeah but it can't be us! We'd know" Mingi said and Wooyoung shrugged "like you knew me, Seonghwa and Hongjoong had asked her out?". That made everyone nod "it's possible...anyone want to confess?" Hongjoong asked. "If any of you are lucky enough to date Y/n and didn't tell us I will personally kick your ass" Seonghwa laughed and that did make San smile. San was feeling better hearing how you rejected all his members and sat back in his seat smiling...but that changed as the guys started talking about who would look best beside you and his jealousy came racing back. When San saw you that night he had his pouty face on and as much as you loved how cute pouty San was you had to do something about it. "What's wrong?" you asked and San whined "nothing...". You sighed "San I know you and I know when something's up so what's happened? Tell me" you said taking his hand and San sighed. "The guys all have crushes on you". You laughed "no they don't we're just friends!". "Y/n I'm telling you they do and 3 of them have asked you out so you can't pretend they're not interested". You looked down feeling guilty "well Hongjoong was drunk so I figured his was a joke and Seonghwa and Wooyoung are just flirts or so I thought, are you mad I didn't tell you?". San shook his head "no, I know you did it to protect me and it was actually really reassuring to hear them say how you rejected them...but then they started debating which one of them would look best with you and that all went!". "What is it like when they talk about me?" you asked slightly nervous and San shook his head squeezing your hand "don't worry nothing vulgar, I'd yell at them if it was. It's more just petty squabbles about who you waved to or whose names would sound better together. It was funny at first but now I'm sick of them all talking about you and staring at you. I want them to know your mine and only mine" he said and you smiled "okay". "Okay?" he asked and you nodded "if you want to tell them that's fine by me and if you're feeling particularly evil why don't we show them instead?". San smirked loving the look in your eye. You could've just told them you were together but you knew San needed something a little more so you devised a plan. The idea would be that you and San lost track of time and the guys caught you together. San was a little worried at first, not wanting to go too far and you assured him it'd be tame. So when the guys went out for dinner San suspiciously stayed back claiming he didn't feel well. You could see the restaurant from a window from the company building and you and San did a stakeout. When you saw them coming back you raced into the practice room and got into position. "You ready?" you asked San and he nodded "I'm actually a little excited, is that normal?". You smiled "you little exhibitionist" and San blushed "I'm just happy for them to realise someone like you chose me". You shook your head "you're just making this too easy". You were a little nervous this might be too staged and you wouldn't be able to kiss San so passionately with this being more artificial than natural but you soon changed your mind about that. You and San positioned yourself on a sofa in the corner of the room and you sat in his lap. San kept his hands on your waist and you had your arms around his neck. With a small smile he kissed you and you were lost from there. San was always a good kisser but he was also a great actor and kissed you with the intensity of a hot make-out session. Your body responded before you even could think to and you ran your hands-down San's chest which spurred him on more. Soon neither of you was acting, you were desperately trying to close any space between you and the kiss was becoming more frantic. So much so you actually didn't hear the guys walk in and it wasn't until the light flicked on you remembered why you were here. "What the fuck?" Seongwha cried and you and San jumped. You pretended to be shocked and sprang up off him. "You weren't meant to be back until 2!" San cried and Wooyoung nodded "yeah It's 1:55 What is going on?". You looked at San and then shrugged "what it looks like". "So you two are...together?" Hongjoong asked. San nodded snaking a hand around your waist "yep". "So that's why you always pretended not to be into her! You were already dating her" Jongho said. "How did none of us realise?" Yunho said and the others all nodded wondering how. "Well now you do so I'm going to say this once. No staring at my girlfriend! She rejected you all for me and we're each other's". The guys looked at you expecting you to say something so you nodded "I want San". San beamed and the members laughed "I've never seen San so smug" Hongjoong smiled. "Yeah no worries we'll back off" Seonghwa said. The guys all nodded and began to leave the room. You turned to San "you happy now?". He nodded pulling you close to him "yes but I'm always happy around you...to be honest I was really happy before they walked in" and you laughed "I bet you were". San rested his hands again on your waist "I'm happy you're my girlfriend and now all the guys know how crazy I am for you. You're my everything Y/n". You blushed "I love how you make me feel" and San grinned "speaking of that, all that acting's really got me in the mood. Should we keep going?". You nodded and San picked you up carrying you to the sofa when the door opened again. "Why did we leave, we have practice in here!" Wooyoung cried and you and San paused. "Yeah so put her down or go do that somewhere else" Seonghwa said and San paused before nodding "see you all at home" and he rushed out the door holding your hand. "Lucky bastard" Hongjoong said and the others all nodded. "Y/n’s got good taste though" Yunho said "especially if she rejected all of you for San!". Which started a 10-minute argument about if you really rejected Wooyoung, Seonghwa and Hongjoong or not. Meanwhile, you and San were having the time of your lives, not a care in the world. Sometimes it pays to be sneaky.

308 notes · View notes

theemporium · 5 months

Note

🧸 maxiel baby taking its first steps? Thank you for writing such amazing blurbs!

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

As much as the boys loved racing, the winter break was eagerly awaited for both Max and Daniel.

They adored their job. They adored that they were able to do the thing they dreamed of doing their whole lives. They adored that they were lucky enough to be on the same team, be by each other’s side and help each other through what could be a taxing and rough racing season.

But, fuck, did they miss their little family.

It had just been before the end of the last race season when the three of you welcomed Beatrice Ricciardo-Verstappen into the world. And now almost a year later, they were eager to have an undisturbed three months with their daughter and with you, after neither of you were able to visit the different races over the season.

“My little bumble bee,” Daniel cooed as he prepped kisses on his daughter’s chubby cheeks as she giggled and laughed. Beatrice wiggled in her father’s arms but he just continued until the sound of her laughter was echoing through the apartment. “Oh, I missed that sound.”

“You’re hogging her,” Max complained as he sat on the other side of the carpet, both of them surrounded by most of her toys they had dragged out from the nursery into the living room. “This isn't fair. I missed her too.”

“I missed her more,” Daniel teased, only for the Dutchman to let out a scoff.

“Put her down and I bet she will crawl over to me,” Max announced, puffing his chest out a little.

Daniel’s eyes lit up. “I’ll bet you nappy duty that she crawls to me instead.”

Max smirked a little. “Deal.”

“You both are ridiculous,” you stated as you walked into the room, shaking your head as you saw the boys place Beatrice in the centre of the room before moving to different sides. “She loves you both, is that not enough?”

“No,” they both answered at the same time.

“Give me peace,” you grumbled under your breath as you took a seat on the couch, waiting to see the event unfold whilst knowing full well one of your boys was going to be pissy in a few minutes.

However, the last thing any of you were expecting was for little Beatrice to start pushing to stand up. And you especially didn’t expect her to start taking wobbly steps towards the couch where you were sitting whilst the three of you gaped proudly at your little girl.

You didn’t even realise you were crying until the warm tears ran down your cheeks as you swooped her in your arms, kisses and mumbled praises pressed against her cheeks as the boys quickly clambered over to the couch.

“What a smart girl,” Max praised as Beatrice reached out to him, a big toothy smile as she accepted her father’s cuddles and praises.

“Little Bumble Bee is learning how to fly,” Daniel murmured, his eyes wet but his grin huge as he watched his partner coddle the baby.

“Shut up,” you muttered, swatting his arm. “You’re gonna make me cry harder.”

“She is gonna be buzzing away soon.”

“One more comment from you and you’re stuck on nappy duty for the whole week.”

536 notes · View notes

mynameis-noe-body · 7 months

Note

marquis de gramont fic

Y/n is sweet and kind and isn't part of Vincent world, but he fell for her anyway and although he's ruthless he has a soft spot for her as she's his wife. A fic of him killing someone and she accidentally sees and get scared and he comforts and cuddles her.

Thank you for the request! I found myself immediately inspired and I wrote it as soon as I could.

I am working on the other requests, too! It will just take a little time :) 🖤

Safe in his arms

Marquis Vincent Bisset De Gramont × you (F)

Rating: Teen & Up Audience

Status: Complete (one shot)

The first time he had seen you, truly seen you, was at the Louvre. On a January morning, when Paris was still cold and tormented by a wind blowing from the north, when the fog rose in the city's parks and around its splendid monuments, bathing everything in an intense white, you had waited for hours on those stairs, with your arms crossed, looking at one single work of art. At first Vincent didn't give it much importance. But when the crowd thinned out, around noon, knowing that soon the guests would arrive at his private event — yet another official HighTable lunch right there in Paris — and seeing you still there, fascinated, he approached.

"Madmoiselle, I am sorry. These rooms have been reserved for a private event. You should leave" he had said, coldly.

But you, you smiled. And your smile was sweet. "Can I just ask you for a minute? One minute, and I'll be gone. I've never seen her like this." You looked up dreamily at Nike — that marble statue at the top of the steps, as proud and silent as you'd ever seen it. “She is just so beautiful” you had commented under your breath, as if not to break that spell. "They deprived her of her arms, of her very face. They tore her to pieces. Yet no one has ever managed to take away of her wings."

Vincent, enchanted by your words, so simple and so true, lost himself in your face. His gaze filled with you for the first time. He watched you go, nodding at you when you wished him a good day, and he followed you with wondering eyes until he saw you disappear. He didn't know it yet, but you would haunt his days and his nights from now on.

He looked for you. He had his men search for you until he could find you. Your subsequent encounters must have seemed casual; a casual meeting in the park during your walk, a chat over a coffee, you even met in the library.

You laughed about it. “It almost feels like fate.”

Vincent nodded. Fate, sure.

He wooed you with expensive gifts, luxurious dinners, evenings at the theater, visits to the most prestigious private art collections — but you weren't as impressed as he expected.

“How can I make you happy, mon amour?” he asked you.

"I don't want your money, Vincent, only you."

And so, one spring evening, you found yourselves simply walking through the streets of Montmartre, laughing and chatting amiably, holding hands, exchanging a few kisses without realizing that the night had already passed; at dawn, on the steps of the cathedral, it was just the two of you, two hot cappuccinos and two croissants, watching the sun rise from the east, illuminating a new day.

Soon after, he asked you to marry him. And you said yes.

There was only one small problem. You knew nothing about him.

▪️▪️▪️

You were beautiful. Naked in his bed after yet another night of love, entwined with the ivory silk pillow, your cheeks slightly flushed and your lips so sweet, so languid. Vincent stroked your hair, watching you sleep. You had the power to unleash in him a tenderness that had long been buried, forgotten and drowned in an ocean of violence. There was nothing he loved more than taking care of you, spending hours listening to your stories so simple and yet full of emotions; he was surprised at how you were able to find beauty in the most mundane things. There was no art that compared to the perfect curves of your body in his hands, against his lips, kissed by his mouth, worshiped by his limbs. There was nothing he wanted more, at the end of a day, than to soak in your immense bathtub with you — a glass of champagne, a tray of mini pastries, macarons and fine chocolates, essential oils and perfumes in the warm water and his hand gently caressing your breast, listening to your heartbeat — before carrying you to bed and falling asleep in your arms.

You were his most precious jewel. And because of this, his biggest fear was losing you forever.

Yes, in his world you were a weakness. Vincent had taken every precaution to keep you away from the monsters that lurked in the shadows of his life, but on the other hand it was inevitable that sooner or later the Great Table would learn of your existence. With this, the problems had begun. Vincent was a powerful man and a powerful man always had enemies. Indeed, the more power he had, the greater the number of his nemeses.

House Bisset De Gramont was a peaceful, safe place, far from danger. Immersed in the Provençal countryside, surrounded as far as the eye can see by lilac fields of fragrant lavender, kissed by the sun, it was one of your favorite places to spend long summer weeks. You knew that Vincent was a Marquis, that his family had been extremely wealthy, and that his business took him all over the world... and nothing else. You enjoyed your holidays with a carefreeness that he envied. Vincent watched you tan by the pool, read your favorite novels lying on the green grass of his gardens, paint the spectacle of lavender swaying in the wind, and hoped that nothing would ever affect your happiness.

But that morning, that morning...

There was a knock on your bedroom door. Yet they knew — his men had been well instructed about it and it was forbidden for anyone to come near your bedroom! What the hell were they doing?

Quickly, he stood up and put on a robe, stomping out of the bedroom with frozen anger in his eyes. "What the fuck are you doing? What made you think you could—"

"Monsieur — Marquis. Please listen" one of them interrupted. "We have the man."

The man. Vincent took a deep breath. The son of a bitch who followed you. He had noticed that black sedan since your departure from Paris a week earlier. He was sure it was a hitman sent for you, the easiest target, most disarmed in the face of the capabilities of his enemies. Some had understood that if they wanted to destroy the Marquis De Gramont, they would have to destroy you first. You, who were his strength and purpose in life. His one true love.

Many had tried, that man was just one of many.

Vincent growled, grabbing his helper by the collar of his shirt. "You separated me from my wife at seven in the morning, on a Sunday, for yet another son of a bitch? At least tell me it was worth it!"

"He's here, sir, we thought you would—"

"He is here?!"

They carried him forward. Two other men had tied the hitman with tight ties around his wrists and legs, blindfolded him and were now dragging him forward, holding him by his arms.

Vincent was inflamed with terrible anger. "Don't you ever dare bring one of them into my house again! My wife - my woman, she's in the next room sleeping and you bring one of these worms into my house!" the Marquis grabbed the knife from his man's pocket. "Kill them and get rid of them! This is my order!" and with a mechanical gesture of the wrist, making it seem so simple, he threw the blade and it pierced the assassin's neck. He gasped for just a second. Blood ran down his wounded throat and, now dead, he collapsed in the arms of his captors. It was only when a trickle of blood reached the white marble floor that, with a short, anguished breath, you attracted attention. And with terror in his eyes Vincent turned away.

You had just woken up, you were wearing his shirt, you had walked silently barefoot to the ajar door. And you had seen it all. You had covered your mouth with the palm of your hand, but this was nothing compared to the terror you felt when you saw the blood. The death. A murder. Your Vincent, your sweet, caring husband, who had just killed a man. Stepping back, trembling, you risked fainting. You suddenly felt pale, weak, powerless, completely disconcerted. Cold shivers ran through every fiber of your body. But before you could fall to the floor, Vincent had rushed to catch you. Lifting you into his arms, he had carried you back to bed.

"It's okay, mon amour" he whispered, kissing your forehead. You were shaking and crying. "No one will hurt you, you are safe with me, ma chéri."

You pointed to the door, now closed. "That man — I saw, oh God, I saw that man! You killed him! Vincent, my God, oh no. No, no — you killed a man!"

He shook his head. The more you trembled, the tighter he held you against his chest. "He was an evil man and he would have hurt you if you had let him live. He had been paid for this, my love, for you."

"Me?" you exclaimed, horrified. Your face twisted into a grimace of disgust and terror. "What have I done wrong in this life to deserve death?!"

Vincent chuckled. It was really fun. “Oh dear, you married me.”

You tried to move away from him, to squirm, to slip away from his embrace, but despite managing to slide against the other end of the bed Vincent took your hand, your wrist, and dragged you towards him again. Laying back on the sheets, he held you down with his entire body. "I am a very powerful man. And powerful men must protect themselves, and protect those they love." He caressed your face wet with tears. He found them so innocent.

You stammered, still shocked at the sight of that blood, that death, that ruthlessness. "Then we should hide!"

Vincent laughed even harder. "There's no hiding from this! It will always be a part of me, darling. But I can assure you of one thing. If there is a safe place for you in this world, then this is right here, by my side." He kissed your forehead, your cheeks, your neck. He hugged you, rocking you gently.

" I love you" he whispered, "and I live for you. I am willing to kill — to die, if necessary, for you. I ask only that you continue to love me as you always have. I am still me, always your Vincent. You can do this for me, mon amour?"

He left the ghost of a kiss on your lips, and covered you both with the sheets, stroking your hair to help you fall asleep again. Before closing your eyes, answering his question, you nodded softly. "I love you, Vicent."

He smiled.

#marquis de gramont #marquis de gramont x reader #vincent de gramont #vincent bisset de gramont #marquis vincent de gramont #Marquis Vincent Bisset De Gramont × you #vincent de gramont x reader #Vincent de Gramont x you #john wick fandom

563 notes · View notes

penmansparadise · 25 days

Text

Tommy Shelby ~ Dust in the Wind

*I DON'T OWN THIS GIF* *CREDIT TO GIF OWNER*

*I do not give anyone permission to repost my work in any way (translations included)*

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: Discusses infant loss/stillborn, ANGST, mild language, possibly ooc Tommy

a/n: Alright, well, it has been quite some time since I've posted on this site. First, let me get a few things out. 1) This is the most self-indulgent piece I have ever written, so if you don't want to read it, please just keep on scrolling. 2) This does not mean that I am ready to start taking requests again or that I will be regularly writing again. As stated before, this is a very self-indulgent piece because I just experienced the loss of my daughter, who was born prematurely. It has completely wrecked me, and I have just finally decided to start writing again. I am trying to navigate my loss and thought maybe writing would help. It did, and although this piece is a little darker than I usually write, it was therapeutic, and I wanted to share it because I am proud of my work. I did write it as a reader insert, but if you all read it and think it would be better as an OC story, I'll change it. Anyway, this is the first time I've ever written for Tommy, so please forgive the potential out-of-character actions he has in this story. Also, it has been a bit since I watched season 3 so forgive any mistakes. I took some liberties with the story by adding different children for Tommy and Y/N and some of the things that happened in the show. Well, I hope you enjoy this story, and would really like to know what you all think.

Y/N was no stranger to death. It was Small Heath, for goodness’ sake. Death practically ran in the water. Being deeply entrenched in the Shelby family since she was a young girl only made her acquaintance with death’s steely grip all that much closer. She had been to more than enough funerals in her 29 years of living. She was present at the cemetery when her father finally drank himself into his grave, she was there to mourn when consumption took her mother, and she showed up to support Ada when they buried Freddie. Y/N was always there when any of the Peaky boys were killed in the line of action, and she even showed up for her elderly childhood neighbor’s funeral. But this time, it was different. She wasn’t gathered in the woods on the outskirts of Small Heath to mourn for someone else. There wasn’t a stranger tucked away in the wagon standing in front of her. The Shelbys weren’t gathered to bid farewell to a distant relative or friend. The Lees weren’t generously providing this funeral for a price. No, the whole Shelby and Lee families were there for her and Tommy this time.

The heat from the flames washed over Y/N’s face, making her sweat a little, but she didn’t move. She wanted to be as close as she could possibly be. If she had it her way, she would have jumped into the wagon and let the flames swallow her whole, but Tommy’s hand tightly gripping hers anchored her to the ground. It had only been a few days. It couldn’t have been more than four, but with how time was moving, it felt like a lifetime had passed. The flames roared on, and Tommy squeezed her hand a little tighter, causing Y/N’s throat to tighten. She swallowed down the sadness trying to claw its way out of her. Y/N wasn’t going to break down in front of all these people. She didn’t want to cry at all, for that matter. It felt like it had been an endless stream of tears, and Y/N was done. If only her aching heart would catch the memo. Y/N’s eyes traveled the length of the flames until they landed on the little plaque one of the Lee boys carved for the wagon. “Lily Eleanora Shelby,” it read, and suddenly, the sadness returned with a vengeance. Y/N shut her eyes, and the events that led to this day played in her head. She was supposed to be happy. She was supposed to be full of unadulterated joy. She was supposed to be cradling her newborn baby girl. But she wasn’t. Instead, she held onto her husband’s hand like a lifeline as she watched her daughter’s wagon burn. One day. That’s all it took to completely destroy her.

Even as she stood there, watching the flames devour her daughter’s wagon, she still recounted everything she did four days ago, trying to figure out what could have possibly led to this result. Four days ago, she was a cheery 29-week pregnant woman. A stay-at-home mom who, with the help of their maid Frances, cared for her and Tommy’s three-year-old son, Benjamin. That day had started like any other. Tommy was already out, and she could hear Frances chasing Ben around his room. The little boy’s giggles echoed through the house, and she remembers smiling as she slid a hand over her round tummy. Y/N couldn’t wait for Ben to be a big brother. She got ready like any other day and eventually made her way to her son, who welcomed her presence with a hug and a kiss. The little boy rubbed her tummy, planted a chaste kiss to her navel, and smiled at her.

“I just wanted to let my little brother or sister know that I love them too, Mommy,” he had said, causing Y/N’s heart to clench. Even at three, he was a charmer, just like his father. She knelt to be at eye level with her son and lifted her hand to cradle his face.

“You’re going to be a wonderful big brother; do you know that?”

“Of course I will be, Mommy. I’ve been practicing sharing my toys with Frances and making sure I listen real good to you and daddy.” He said, standing up straighter to exhibit his full height. “Frances says I need to be a good example for the new baby, or else Santa won’t bring me any presents this year for Christmas. How outrageous is that, Mommy!?”

Y/N stifled a laugh before brushing Ben’s hair back and looking up to see Frances smirking from her spot by Ben’s block tower.

“I’m sure Santa won’t forget about you this year, honey.” She told her son. The boy gave her a toothy grin before trotting off to continue playing with his blocks.

Y/N returned to her feet and watched Ben for another minute before retreating to the new nursery. It was already put together, and she often found herself hiding away in that room. She glided her hand over the bassinet and let the soft fabric tickle her palm. The walls were already decorated with paintings of horses, some of which came from Ben, who insisted that his younger sibling have them. She sat on the rocking chair and gently rubbed her hands over her stomach, earning a little kick from her unborn child. A soft laugh fell from her lips as she looked down at her growing bump.

“Sorry to disturb you, love.” She whispered, her hands still rubbing slow circles. “Mommy just wanted to let you know she loves you very much. And so does your big brother, who is very excited to meet you.”

Another kick came.

“You’re excited to meet him, too? I’ll have to let him know.”

“Daddy loves you too, just in case Mommy forgot to mention that.” Tommy’s voice came from the doorway, causing Y/N to look up. He gave her a full smile, the one he reserved only for her and their son, and it fell over her like a warm blanket.

“Mommy was just about to get there. Had daddy not interrupted her,” she said. Tommy hummed in response as he floated across the room to kneel before her. He looked up at Y/N through his lashes and said, “Sure you were,” before removing her hands and planting a soft kiss where they had just lay.

“Daddy can’t wait to meet you,” he whispered against her stomach, his warm breath radiating throughout her body. Tommy looked up at Y/N before standing and pressing his lips to hers. When he pulled away, a smile matching his spread across her face. She was beaming. She had dreamt of being in this position for many years as a teenager, and now it was real. Thomas Shelby was hovering over her very pregnant figure in their unborn second child’s nursery. Their lively three-year-old son’s muffled laughter ricocheted off the hallway walls. It was everything she ever wanted, and she was so happy.

“What’s that look for?” Tommy asked, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“Nothing,” she hummed, gaining a skeptical eyebrow raise from her husband. “I just love you. That’s all.”

Tommy nestled his face into the crook of her neck, peppering kisses along the exposed skin. Then he pulled back, looked into her eye, and said, “I love you more than you know, Y/N.”

He gave her one more swift kiss before standing and sauntering out of the room with a smirk. The rest of the day went by like any day usually went. She sat around and read, played with Ben, ate lunch at 1100, put Ben down for a nap at 1230, and then went back to reading. Tommy was in and out, balancing work from home and the office. She could tell that day was extra tiring from how he sighed every time he left the house. It was after Tommy left for the last time of the day that Y/N got the idea to wander down to the kitchen. When she entered, the cooks were hard at work peeling and slicing vegetables.

“Good evening, Mrs. Shelby,” the head chef began, “is there anything we can do for you, ma’am?”

Y/N clasped her hands behind her back as she rocked back and forth on her heels like a guilty toddler. “Um,” she said, “actually, yes, there is.” She stepped into the kitchen and moved her hands to rest on her stomach. “I was thinking that maybe tonight you and the rest of the staff could take the evening off and allow me to cook dinner.”

The head chef’s eyes widened at her statement. Everyone else stilled for a brief moment, waiting for him to speak. “Oh,” he stammered, “b-but, Mrs. Shelby, and please forgive me if I am overstepping, but shouldn’t you be resting instead of cooking?” His eyes dipped down to her protruding abdomen before landing back on her face.

“Resting? I rest all day. Really,” Y/N said, waving the chef’s comment off, “it would be nothing. I actually miss being in the kitchen. It’ll be nice. Therapeutic.” She couldn’t miss the wide-eyed stares from everyone in the room, but she chose to ignore them. When they didn’t move to leave, she stepped forward, placed a gentle hand on the head chef’s back, and began leading him out of the kitchen.

“Trust me,” she said, “I’ll be fine. Thank you for your concern, though.”

Once she ushered the staff out, she began working on dinner. It had been a long time since she cooked, but it came back to her like riding a bicycle. She couldn’t escape the excitement that bubbled inside of her as she fell into a groove preparing dinner for her family again. She boiled the potatoes the staff had peeled, sauteed the peppers and onions, and braised the beef that was in the refrigerator. About an hour into cooking, a dull pain emanated from her lower back and into her hips. The dull pain slowly morphed into a pressure that she just assumed was normal 29-week pregnancy symptoms. It’s just the baby getting comfortable. The baby is just moving around and pressing a little harder than usual on my cervix. She ignored the feelings and finished cooking before asking the kitchen staff for help to bring the meal into the dining room. Once the table was set, Frances went and fetched her boys, alerting them that not only had Y/N cooked dinner, but she had also served it. She greeted the boys in the doorway of the dining room and gave each a kiss before they all sat to eat. That pain returned in her lower back and hips, making it hard to get comfortable in her seat. She let out a low groan of discomfort, and Tommy placed his hand over hers to gain her attention.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his eyebrows knitted together. She swallowed another groan that threatened to come out and nodded with a strained smile. Y/N could tell that her weak answer did nothing to reassure Tommy, but he didn’t press her.

“How do you like the meal?” She asked, doing her best to not sound strained against the constant pressure she felt pulsing between her legs.

Before Tommy could answer, Ben nodded with enthusiasm and stuffed a heaping scoop of mashed potatoes into his mouth. “I love it, Mommy! This is the best dinner I’ve ever had,” he said through his mouthful of food.

Y/N smiled, but it must have looked more like a grimace because this time, Tommy stood up and moved to her side. “Y/N,” he said, placing his hands on her shoulders, “are you sure you’re okay? Should I have Frances phone the doctor?”

Y/N grabbed his hand and squeezed it as she looked up to her husband. “I’m fine, darling. I promise. Let’s just finish dinner.” She pulled his hand to her mouth and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. Then, using her head, she motioned for Tommy to sit again. He stared at her for another moment, the line on his forehead deepening, before sighing and retaking his seat. She kept her discomfort under wraps for the remainder of dinner because Tommy didn’t mention anything until after they had put Ben down for the night and were about to crawl into bed. The pressure and pain had only grown in that short time, and she was beginning to get nervous. She was sitting on the edge of their bed, eyes shut, and taking some deep breaths when Tommy’s hands landed on her thighs. She could feel him kneeling between her legs, but she didn’t open her eyes. She didn’t want to admit that her anxiety was consuming her or that the pain and pressure had turned into abdominal cramps. It wasn’t until she suddenly felt the bed beneath her sopping wet that she looked at Tommy. He looked down and saw the fluid dripping from her nightgown and their duvet before his gaze landed on her. She could see his mouth moving, but his voice was drowned out by her rapidly beating heart. Something is wrong. She thought. This shouldn’t be happening. I’m too early. Tommy pushed away the hair that had begun sticking to her sweaty forehead, and then ran out of the room. His voice was distant, but she could have sworn he said something about calling Polly and Ada. She wasn’t sure because all she could focus on was the sharp pain that was puncturing her abdomen and the immense pressure building between her legs. Before she could comprehend what was happening, Tommy scooped her up and lay her on their bed. What about the sheets? I’m going to ruin the bed.

She must have said those thoughts aloud because Tommy quickly said, “Don’t worry about the bed, love. We’ll get another one if we have to.” The pain was only getting worse, and she had to shut her eyes and bite her tongue to prevent a groan from escaping. She didn’t know how much time had passed before Polly and Ada came rushing into the room, shoving Tommy into the hallway. When it was just the three of them, Y/N finally let out a guttural moan. She didn’t remember this much pain when she gave birth to Ben. Something is wrong. Something is not right. Those words chanted in her head like a mantra. Polly set her up on her bed while Ada used a wet towel to wipe away the sweat beading on her face.

“Just breathe, Y/N,” Polly chirped soothingly in her ear. “Ada and I are here. We’re going to take care of you.”

Anxiety coursed through her veins and unfurled in her gut when the pressure between her legs began to increase. She tried to cross her legs and prevent the inevitable from happening, but Polly and Ada wouldn’t let her. Tears of pain and fear streamed down her cheeks. She wanted to scream at them to stop and let her try to stop this urge to push. But the pain and pressure were too much, and the only sound that came out of her mouth was a low groan.

She could feel Polly’s hand between her legs, and the words “crowning” and “push” floated to her ears. Ada took her hand, and Y/N tried with every fiber in her body to not push, but her body had other plans. She held her breath and begged her body to stop forcing her baby out of her, but it was too late. The pressure was building. Climbing to a peak that felt like it would rip her in half until suddenly, she felt relief. Her heavy breathing filled the room, and she waited impatiently for the tell-tale cries of her baby, but they never came. She opened her eyes and looked at Polly and then at Ada. They both just stared back at her, and Y/N knew something wasn’t right.

“Y/N,” was all Polly whispered, and she knew. The silence was deafening. She lay there, completely exposed, bleeding, and sweaty, and waited, but her baby gave her nothing. Her eyes shut and then, without any strength to stop it, let out a crushing wail. The tears overflowed, and when she opened her eyes again, she watched the door burst open and Tommy storm in. He moved over to where Polly held their baby and looked down at their motionless child.

“Why isn’t she crying?” He asked.

It was a girl. I had a baby girl. Even through her tears and sobs, she could see Tommy’s chest rising and falling at a rapid pace.

“Why isn’t she fucking crying, Pol!?” Tommy’s voice boomed through the room and mixed with her loud cries to create the saddest song. She could see the distress in the slant of his shoulders and how he ran a hurried hand through his cropped hair. He didn’t wait for anyone to answer his question before bounding across the room and landing on the floor next to her. His hands found hers, and she could feel them shaking. His lips pressed to Y/N’s forehead and cheeks, absorbing only some of the tears that continued to cascade down her face.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, but the way his voice cracked in her ear told her he didn’t even believe those words. “I love you, Y/N.” She could hear that his words dripped with the same despair she felt. “You know that, ey? I love you, and it’s going to be okay.”

Tommy’s words echoed in her head as she watched the fire blaze around her daughter’s wagon. She wanted to be convinced that his words were true, but she couldn’t bring herself to believe them. When the funeral finished, they all returned to Arrow House, where the wake was being held. Even being in a crowded room surrounded by family, Y/N felt alone. Her whole body was like radio static – unfeeling. Tommy’s hand was on her lower back the entire time, but she still felt like she was floating away. Nothing could tether her to this reality anymore.

Several people approached her and Tommy, and with every person, a new empty comment emerged.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” which loosely translates to, “Boy, that sucks to be you.”

“I can’t even imagine what you’re going through,” which means, “I’m really glad I’m not dealing with that!”

And, “At least you still have Ben,” equates to, “You shouldn’t be upset when you still have one kid alive.”

With every consolation tossed at her feet like the change she used to find on the ground when she was a child, this unknown sensation began to build in her chest. It was heavy and wild, like an untamed animal. It was red and bared its teeth, ready to bite. It was something Y/N had never felt before. She was usually understanding, calm, and collected. She wasn’t hot-headed or easily provoked. But now, she was quickly discovering that what she was feeling was rage. Hot and stormy, it ravaged her insides, and instead of beating it back into its cage, Y/N leaned into it, letting it hold her battered and broken soul up.

After the wake, Y/N let her sadness swallow her. She hid in one of the guest rooms daily and even went as far as to avoid Tommy. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him because every time their eyes met, two things happened. 1) she could see the grief he was carrying like cinder blocks chained to his neck, and 2) she could see the way he looked at her like she was a broken piece of artwork now. She knew she was a shell of the woman she once was, but it hurt her even more to know that Tommy saw it so plainly in her, too. He didn’t see her as the strong, independent woman he fell in love with. No, now she was a ghost of her former self, and she couldn’t take his pity for having lost their daughter and herself.

Although clearly grieving, Tommy didn’t seem nearly as phased by their loss as Y/N. He was able to jump back into work, and now, nearly a week since the wake, he was back to being fully invested. If Y/N were being honest, she envied Tommy for being able to distract himself. She couldn’t do anything but hide from the memories that haunted their home and do her best to still be a good mother to Ben. When a week finally passed since laying her daughter to rest, Y/N knew she had to do something. She would talk to Polly and beg for some sort of work. She didn’t care that Polly insisted that Y/N take some “time to heal.” She needed a distraction. Being in Arrow House felt more like a prison than a home.

Y/N got dressed and began to head for the door after handing Ben over to Frances. But, as she approached Tommy’s office, she could hear him talking. She peeked through the tiny crack to discover John and Arthur sitting at Tommy’s desk.

“Ada’s handling the Communists. She’s got someone on the inside who’s giving us information,” Tommy stated. “And,” he shuffled papers around on his desk, “I’m…dealing with Father Hughes.”

“And what about the horny princess?” John asked, leaning forward and adjusting his jacket. “You gonna figure out where her family keeps the jewels?”

Tommy waved him off. “I already know.” That single statement had both his brothers and Y/N leaning forward just slightly. Tommy lay a large blueprint on his desk, causing the brothers to stand.

“They keep their entire collection in this strong room. There’s no way to get in from above without a key,” Tommy stated, flattening the paper and looking up at his brothers.

“So, what’s your plan, brother?” Arthur asked like a good soldier. Tommy straightened slightly, and Y/N could tell he was a little uncomfortable. He pulled a cigarette from his case and slid it across his bottom lip before lighting it and taking a drag.

“We’ve gotta tunnel in,” Tommy said without hesitation. Those four words landed on the Shelby men like a grenade, and Y/N could almost feel the atmosphere shift at the statement. None of them moved. It was evident that the idea of tunneling hadn’t been a thought in any of their minds since the war. Tommy cleared his throat.

“I know,” he began, “but there’s no other way. I’ve already got Johnny Dogs ready to help. He’ll set up camp where we’ll start the tunnel.”

The air was thick, and again, neither of the brothers spoke. She knew they didn’t like the plan, but they would comply because Tommy was giving the orders. Y/N watched as John and Arthur fiddled with their suit jackets, their anxious energy hitting her like a baseball bat to the face. It wasn’t until Arthur blew out a puff of air and ran his hand through his messy hair, exposing his apprehension, that Y/N knew what she would do. Without even a second thought, Y/N opened the door to Tommy’s office, and all three men turned to face her. She was only adding insult to injury as the silence in the room became even heavier. Neither of her brothers-in-law had seen her since the wake, and the uneasy energy was almost palpable. Tommy stepped toward her but didn’t get too close, which Y/N could see his brothers noticed.

“Y/N, is everything alright, love?”

Her eyes flitted between all three of the Shelby men for a moment before finally landing back on Tommy. She knew she probably looked like a deer in headlights. Her stare was frazzled, and she knew she looked a bit harried. But she still squared her shoulders and stated with the most conviction she could muster, “Let me help.”

All three men’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, but only one spoke.

“Excuse me?” Tommy asked, incredulity lacing each word. There was no going back now. Y/N had to double down on her commitment. So, she waved her hand toward the blueprints on Tommy’s desk.

“With the tunnel.”

Tommy’s eyes turned a shade darker, and Y/N could see his jaw tick. She only glanced at John and Arthur for a second, and they both looked like they might choke on the thickness of the air. She felt like she might, too, but she held her ground. She was not a fragile porcelain doll and could help her husband like she used to. Tommy coughed, then turned to his brothers and, in a calm voice, asked, “Would you mind giving me a moment with my wife, boys?”

Neither of the brothers wasted a second before hustling out into the hallway. Once the door shut behind them, Tommy’s steely gaze landed back on Y/N. Before, she would have felt a little nervous under Tommy’s intense glare. She had never inserted herself into his shoddy business in the past. But now, she didn’t care. She needed a distraction and a way to prove that she was still a force to be reckoned with even after her loss. Y/N could see Tommy trying to contain his anger as his nostrils flared and his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. His eyes shut for a brief moment as he took a deep inhale.

“Are you fucking insane, Y/N?” He finally asked, his voice level. Y/N’s mouth fell open, and she reared back just slightly. But before she could say anything, Tommy continued.

“You’ve been avoiding me, your husband, for a week in our own home, and when you decide to finally speak to me, that is what you say?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Tommy.”

“No, Y/N!” He shouted, causing her to startle. “You can’t just move past this!”

That statement made Y/N see red. In the week since Lily’s passing, Tommy did precisely that. Y/N’s spine straightened, and her whole body became rigid.

“Why not!?” she shouted back, stomping toward Tommy. “Is that not what you did? Pretend like we didn’t lose our daughter? You threw yourself into your work. Why can’t I do the same thing?” Her chest was heaving, and as badly as she didn’t want them to, she could feel tears pricking at her eyes. She hated that she was a frustrated crier. Her fists were in tight balls at her sides, and every muscle in her body was flexed. She was ready for a fight. She was prepared for Tommy to yell back at her. In fact, she wanted him to yell at her. She wanted Tommy to tell her how stupid her idea was and that she was out of her mind. She mentally begged Tommy to scream at her for barging in on his meeting with his brothers and even thinking about tunneling. Y/N wanted to feel the passion he usually had toward her before they lost their baby. She needed him to reassure her that she was not a lost cause he was housing but his fierce wife. But he didn’t yell. The fire in his eyes dimmed, and his features softened. The pity eyes were back, and she was struck by the sadness she was trying to escape. She shut her eyes in a lame attempt to avoid looking at her husband and keep her tears at bay, but it was futile. The tiny droplets fell down her cheeks, and when she opened her eyes again, Tommy was right in front of her. He lifted his hands to cradle her face, and she hated how she melted into his touch. It had been a week since she even looked at Tommy, let alone touched him. She couldn’t lie, she missed him. But it was easier to hide from the pain and suffering they both shared than deal with it head-on.

Y/N let out a shaky breath and looked into her husband’s eyes.

“Why can’t I, Tommy?” She asked, barely above a whisper. “Let me help you. Please.”

Tommy’s thumb stroked her cheeks, wiping away a stray tear. He cataloged her features, and for the first time in a very long time, she wished she could see into Tommy’s thoughts. She stared at him and hoped that everything she wanted to say was conveyed in her eyes. I’m no longer the same woman I was a week ago. I’m a failure as a woman and a mother. I’m alone, letting my thoughts eat me alive. I’m scared you won’t love this broken woman I have become. Her eyes pleaded for Tommy to let her prove that she could still be the same person as before. She needed to prove to him and herself that she wasn’t hopeless. But when Tommy shut his eyes and let out a sigh, she knew his answer before he even said it.

He looked at Y/N and said sotto voce, “You know I can’t, love.”

Y/N’s body went rigid, and that new familiar sensation began to bubble in her gut. She could feel it rumbling and swirling, mixing with her fear and sadness, creating an uncontrollable fury. It burned like venom, but she found herself welcoming the sting. Her once soft features hardened, and Tommy noticed the change immediately. Her stare was blank, and the joy that used to fill it had vanished. Before losing her daughter, she never understood why the war had changed Tommy. She supported him while his experiences ravaged him, but she never knew why he returned with a harder exterior than when he left. But now, after suffering such a devastating loss, she understood. There is no coming back from witnessing a tragedy.

Tommy’s rough thumbs brushed against Y/N’s tear-stained cheeks and bent until his forehead rested on hers. “Where did the woman I married three years ago disappear to?” He said, his breath fanning over her face. He pulled back, his distressed stare locking Y/N in place, and whispered, “I know she’s in there.”

The words stung like a slap to her already bruised ego. She could feel the weight of that question in every bone of her body. All her fears began raging a war inside her head, and she could feel her armor cracking. She could feel the tears clogging her throat, burning as she swallowed them down. Her lungs felt like they weren’t getting nearly enough oxygen, and she was only seconds away from either crying or breaking something. With a swift step backward, Y/N separated herself from her husband. She hated to admit that her body yearned for Tommy’s hands back on her, but she batted that thought away as quickly as it appeared. Tommy slowly lowered his hands back to his sides, and she leveled him with a callous stare.

“That woman is gone, Tommy,” she spat. “She burned to ash with her daughter a week ago.” She could see the way her words landed on Tommy like bullets striking his chest. Some of her felt bad, but the angry beast slowly becoming her new persona convinced her she did nothing wrong.

Y/N waited for Tommy to say something, anything, back to her, and when he didn’t, she turned and reached for the door. Confidence that felt different from what she was used to coursed through her body like electricity. She was a little scared of who she was becoming, but those wild and fiery feelings of rage were the only things that brought her peace. Before pulling the door open, she turned back toward Tommy and said, “If you won’t let me help you, Tommy, I’ll find someone else who will. You forget, my roots run deep in this business, too.”

Tommy let out a dry laugh. “You’re really threatening me, now, ey?”

Y/N’s grip tightened around the cold door handle, and, through gritted teeth, she growled, “It’s not a threat, Thomas. It’s a promise.” Without a second look, she flung the door open and stepped out.

John and Arthur straightened at her abrupt appearance, and she just brushed past them, letting her feet carry her toward the front of their home. She knew they heard her and Tommy’s conversation, but she didn’t care anymore. This newfound boldness that her bereavement had granted her washed away any and all anxiety.

“Hope you enjoyed the show, boys,” Y/N tossed over her shoulder toward John and Arthur. “Next time, I’ll sell tickets and make talking to my husband more worthwhile rather than a waste of my time.”

She didn’t turn back around to see their reaction to her words. Instead, she showed herself out and hopped into one of Tommy’s many vehicles. She would find another way if he wouldn’t allow her to help. The image of a tall Jewish man whom she briefly met a while back when Tommy first started expanding into London entered her mind. She knew exactly who would be more than willing to give her a hand in her effort to help the Shelby family – Alfie Solomons.

175 notes · View notes

beneathstarryskies · 2 years

Text

A/N: These were not at all requested, I just wanted to try a new format and I needed to take a little break from my 1k event!

Warnings: fem!reader, light daddy kink (in Jiraiya's section), smut, oral sex

How Kakashi, Itachi, Sasuke, and Naruto fuck you after a long absence. W/ BONUS Jiraiya for @actuallysaiyan

Kakashi

The longer Kakashi is away from you the needier he becomes.

Definitely uses reading Icha Icha as a coping mechanism.

When he is finally with you again, he is absolutely insatiable.

“Just one more time, princess. I know you can take it,” Kakashi coos as he slips his cock into you for the third round of the evening.

You’d been just as eager for the first round. After not seeing Kakashi for weeks that seemed to stretch into eternity you’d been almost frantic to pull him into your apartment and have his hands all over your body. Now you’re whining as he picks up a slow pace, his long cock easily brushing against your abused sweetspot.

“‘Kashi, I can’t,” you whine.

He’s already buried to the hilt and his face is pressed against your warm chest. There’s no stopping him now, but truthfully you don’t want him to. You’d let Kakashi fuck you until you can’t hold onto conciousness anymore if that’s what it would take to please him. Kakashi knows he’s pushed you past your limit, so he’s gentle this time. Soft praises falls from his lips as he makes love to you for the rest of the night.

Itachi

Itachi hides his longing for you. You’re his only weakness, but dammit if someone had the chance to exploit it he’d be ruined.

When he first arrives back to the hideout, he acts cold and cordial.

Things switch as soon as he’s alone with you. The first thing he wants to do is taste you.

“Is my pretty girl gonna cum for me again?” his hot breath hits your swollen clit. You can’t even form a coherent sentence anymore. An eager nod and a soft whine is all you can manage. It’s enough to earn you the rare sound of his soft chuckle before he leans in to drag his tongue between your folds. His sharingan flashes in the low light as he watches your face.

“I missed you so much,” you whine as he sucks on your clit.

“Hm, missed you too,” he mutters.

His hands grip onto your trembling thighs. He can feel the muscles tightening as you get close again. He could stay like this all night. It’s your taste he dreams of when he’s away from you. He lives for these moments when he has you weak for just his mouth. He drinks your juices like it’s coveted nectar.

Then again, Itachi has always had a sweet tooth.

Naruto

Naruto makes 0 attempts to play it cool when he comes back from a long mission. He missed you like crazy and its everyone’s problem.

You have to beg him to take you home instead of just pulling you into the nearest semi-empty place he can find.

Naruto is all over you the second you finally give him permission.

“Missed you so bad,” Naruto groans as he thrusts hard into you again. “So fucking bad.”

He’s not taking it easy on you at all, but you’ve come to expect that by now. Naruto is a handful on the best of days, but sexual frustration nearly drives him insane. His pace is frantic. Every moan is punctuated with the squelching of your wet cunt. His skin slaps against yours.

You have to give him credit because at least this time you made it into the apartment instead of Naruto practically undressing you in the hallway. Barely. If it had taken you a second more to unlock the door, he would’ve been pressing you against it to take you from behind. Instead you’re at least bent over the arm of the couch in the privacy of your own home.

“I fucking love you,” Naruto growls.

Sasuke

He absolutely refuses to admit he misses you, even to himself.

Sasuke prides himself on being able to go long periods of time without being overcome by longing.

He realizes how much of a lie this is when he practically crumbles as soon as he sees you.

“I know you missed me,” he growls as he presses his cock against your ass. His hand is pushed down the front of your pants and he’s bullying your swollen clit to pull another orgasm from you. “You were wet as soon as I walked through the door.”

“Of course I missed you,” you purr. Your hips grind back against him.

“Missed my sweet girl,” he finally admits.

You blush softly, and he smirks when he looks into the mirror to see how flustered you are. Sasuke always takes his time before finally fucking you. This time is no different. Your juices are dripping all over his hand before he finally pulls your pants down. He doesn’t care that you were trying to get all dolled up in anticipation of his arrival. He’ll have the mascara you so carefully applied running down your face before he’s finished with you.

“You gotta show me how bad you missed me,” he says he presses the tip of his cock to your entrance.

Jiraiya

Jiraiya makes no qualms about missing you.

The man is fucking ready to explode by the time he comes home to you.

His balls are so full and heavy. As soon as he sees you he’s rock hard.

“You really know how to make daddy feel good,” Jiraiya groans as he leans against the counter. One hand is buried in your hair while the other guides his cock deeper down your throat. He acts as though he didn’t practically push you to your knees as soon as he came in the front door. You don’t mind. After all your plan is to always greet him with a sexual situation, as that is his favorite thing in life.

“Such a good girl,” he mutters. “You love making me feel good.”

You moan in agreement, and just the vibrations are nearly enough to push Jiraiya over the edge. He ruts his hips by instinct, but is quick to make himself go still once more.

The sight of you on your knees with his thick cock between your lips has been filling his every thought for weeks now. To finally have those filthy fantasies a reality makes him feel like the luckiest man who ever lived.

You don’t mind letting him use your mouth to get his own satisfaction, because you know he’ll make it up to you tenfold.

#kakashi hatake #kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake x reader #sasuke uchiha x reader #sasuke x reader #naruto x reader #itachi uchiha x reader #itachi x reader #itachi uchiha #jiraiya x reader #jiraiya smut

6K notes · View notes

soliloquiss · 2 years

Text

( CAN'T FOCUS ? ) LUXIEM X GENDER NEUTRAL READER 18+

❥ in which you send them suggestive pictures while they're on stream

❥ WARNING: NSFW, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ( VERY LONG LOL )

VOX 👹 — verbalizes the string of thoughts running in his head while the scenario unfolds for his today's asmr roleplay stream, rarely taking glances at the guide he wrote that consists of two or three lines in front of him that he prepared prior to going live.

the situation develops with an unexpected turn of events, his kindred screaming and typing in the chat mostly praises or musings of unholy things. contented with what he had done until now, he decides to pause for half a minute. from his peripheral vision, he sees his cellphone screen light up from blank black, a notification bar then pops up with an endearment he chose for you, followed with the words 'sent you an image'. as a great multitasker he is, he unlocks his phone with ease and proceeds to check the photo you sent him. and oh goodness, was he caught off guard just like that? he couldn't believe the sight in front of his naked eyes, you all prepped up for a naughty picture just for him and him only to lavish and indulge upon. such thought makes him excited and wanted to delve deeper into his fantasies made up of you, doing everything to enjoy the long night.

a lingering silence plays in his stream, dragging on for too long that the viewers found off a little while. vox then snaps himself from the trance and continues his roleplay stream— incorporating the teasing you've done to him, "oh dear, you really like to tease me like that huh?" were the words he uttered and drove the chat insane with his way of words. his voice sounded cold yet intimate, so close yet so distant. only someone like vox akuma is truly capable of such thing. his tone laced was with mischief and extreme eagerness of wanting to feel your body next to his. he heaves a heavy, long sigh then rubs back and forth to calm down and cope with the feeling of wanting to punish you as soon as possible. he felt like a predator ready to devour its prey, he grows antsy minute by minute. this was when he started to realize he's losing his cool. massaging his temples with his calloused, long fingers, vox then simply lets out a breathy yet prideful chuckle, proceeding to turn his phone off and place it back on his desk table. "prepare yourself, you wanted this after all." he arrogantly says and you feel your blood gush with delirium from his chilling, striking words as you were tuning in his stream once you sent him your exposed pictures. it was supposed to be a silly little prank but it looks like you're in for a ride once he finishes with his duty.

MYSTA 🦊 —'s stream for today was a collab of luxiem with noctyx playing valorant together. as anticipated, he winged several of their games not until you thought of distracting him as payback from what he did to you long ago. you decided to watch his stream in real time and also prepared the pictures you're about to send him, and it definitely didn't help when he revealed recently that he liked fishnets and would like to see you wearing a pair someday. the thing is, you were well prepared for that day, you were just plotting when to show him all along. their fourth game just finished and they agreed to take a three minute break as of the moment. seeing this as the perfect opportunity to lure the fox into jumping over the fence, you sent him your almost-nude pictures wearing only the fishnets and onyx black choker with a fox charm adorning it in the middle as a bonus touch. mysta picks up his phone to pass time and swipes it to the left with his slender fingers, only to see notifications from telegram the very first second he used the gadget. he cocks his brows as to what were the images and the next thing he knew was his heart started beating loud and fast as if there was no tomorrow. he brazenly stares at your pictures— the fishnet stockings reached up to your thighs and perfectly hugs your size, every nook and cranny of your body can be seen from the angle you took it in. such view he can only see knowing you perfectly catered to his taste was well enough to titillate him. he taps on each one and swipes after memorizing every little detail of your nude, something hard under his white slacks bulging a second after.

"ah fuck—" a breathy curse he lets out unintentionally and a "huh?" rises from ike. there mysta realizes his thoughts slipped from his lips and you may have gotten through to him this time. "oh, nothing, nothing, nothing." mysta chants the word thrice and attempts to shrug off the accident, trying to ignore the symptoms of lust coursing through his body. a little dissatisfied with his reaction, you still watched his stream to see if he'd actually budge from his frail façade of getting everything together. the collab stream of luxiem vs noctyx on valorant continues, mysta was confident of shrugging your nudes at first but then a little while after, he started to get killed one match to the other in a span of a short minute that threw off his so-called mysta gaming. more strings of curses slip from his mouth, followed by whining and complaining, "what is happening to him". you couldn't help but feel sorry for him but since he was such a brat to you the last time you did it, one word you could say is: deserved.

LUCA 🦁 — you laugh at the male for the many times he's been spooked already because of visage. a horror game with his heart rate monitor shown in the streaming screen for an addition. being a supportive partner, you wanted to ease the feeling of fright persisting in his mind because of the few jump scares he'd gotten for just thirty minutes of livestreaming in. and so, you decided to send him a couple of nude pictures saved in your phone with a somewhat 'pure' intention. his phone that he put on silent to minimize distraction vibrates from the tabletop and he immediately picks it up, thinking what it could be. usually, if it's unimportant, he'll attend to it later on when he finishes streaming but upon reading your name with a heart on his screen, he didn't hesitate to check your message. he stops by a corner in the game and clicks setting to pause it, proceeding to check the images you just sent him. once he opens the conversation, he inhales heavily at the sight and widens his eyes in disbelief, he couldn't fathom how you'd send him suggestive pictures especially right now that he's streaming. a view he could only see anytime he wanted to— it made him melt like a putty and feel weak. the heart rate number rises, the chat grows suspicious of what luca would've been doing for his heart to be racing in such a short minute. he couldn't keep it to himself, the libido in his body manifests into physical effects like his palms sweating and pants growing tighter by every second that's passing.

"boss! are you alright!?" similar sort of questions get asked by the chat left and right to which he immediately answers by "yes yes! i am fine, thank you for asking." he quickly responds to your message with a few taps on his screen and continues to do the horror game streaming. even so, his heart rate hasn't calmed down anytime now. even when he's just strolling around the enormous haunted house, his heart beat picks up every minute. luca however continued to reassure his audience that he's fine, and the chat just decided to laugh at how quick his heart is pumping just by walking around the map with no sense of direction or whatsoever. being the so-called 'golden retriever' type of boy he is, he laughs it off as well and plays it off by saying sham excuses like "i just got some water hence why my heart is beating fast." a couple days after, a youtuber clipped this particular moment and it shook the community. it is now one of luxiem's top mysteries. you couldn't help but cackle upon remembering these moments.

SHU ☯️ — among the boys, shu is the most seiso streamer of luxiem or so the fans deem of him. shu avoids cursing and dodges unholy things like the plague and you couldn't help but feel curious as to how he manages to suppress such dirty thoughts and feelings even when surrounded by such people who make dirty remarks almost 24/7. apparently, even having gone through numerous quality time spent with shu and learning more of what he likes and dislikes holistically, something felt incomplete. a terrific idea lights up in your mind like a newly-bought bulb from the store, you want to see him lose his composure and that might have been your fantasies since then. no worries, you already got permission from shu to do such things. it was just a question of when you'll do it that he will perhaps never know. it could be tomorrow, the other day or today and bullseye! today is the day. while shu was taking a quick water break from the stream, you grab the perfect timing to send him the pictures you've exerted quite a lot of effort on. scrolling down his news feed from various applications, he then sees the notification from the top portion of his screen and was curious what it could be about that you're messaging him during his livestreaming hours. gulping down the bottle of water on hand, he nearly spat out his drink as he opens the conversation and saw pictures of you wearing a loose, wet white shirt with no garments underneath. the shape of your body, your chest down to your lower region were barely concealed by the clothing.

his orchid rosette irises widen into two full new moons and his jaw falls agape, he didn't expect this to happen that soon. he tries to hide his heating face with his hand as if you were physically there to avoid seeing him beet red. nonetheless, he mutes his microphone on stream and taps the call sign on your conversation with no hesitation. whatever you're plotting right now, it's driving him crazy. as soon as you receive the call notification, you were panic-stricken instantly, thinking hard if you did the right thing or what. you decided to not waste anymore time so you tap the green circle and respond, "yes shu?" a short pause occurs and the silence was slowly becoming deafening for the two of you. thankfully, shu finally parts his lips open, "you want to . . talk about that?" he asks, voice a bit shaky and not so unfazed as he usually is. "look i'm so embarrassed i can't do this right now" you lean to the defensive side and shu tried to gasp for air silently, a result of how flustered he is right now. "listen, i— i will come there later when i finish and then let's talk about it, yeah?" you hum in response and crack a sheepish smile, you feel a drop of sweat trickle down your forehead. only the heavens above know what will happen next. he goes back to his seat and plays it off to continue the stream, to which you were taken aback of because he's capable of getting back on track just like that.

IKE 🖋 — is an interesting person to know for sure. he's always calm and collected except for the times he gets spooked by jump scares or getting tilted, or made fun of but usually it's his soft, chilling voice that seals the deal for his viewers. he's soft spoken, and may be the most sane of luxiem, everyone's dream boy. you have no idea how you landed such a pretty man— it was calming whenever you'd hear his voice chime into your ears like music, and whenever you come across such problem ike is there, ready to solve it. from these little acts of appreciation, you wanted to pay him back, but in a different way. there were moments where he was a little suspicious for the seisus things he says, and you picked up those details for sure. his stream for today is nothing out of an ordinary, but a zatsudan. he proceeds to start the stream and engages with his viewers, entertaining questions from the superchats with entertaining answers. one queried, "ike, if you were to receive a gift from someone, how would you like it to be?" he ponders for a moment, eyes looking up. "hmm, i think it's the thought that matters the most when it comes to gift giving. i'm not quite picky but if the person were to give me a gift as thanks or something similar, i'd want it to be unique and i also want the person to put a lot of thought into it." and that was your moment of revelation that you did the right thing. after that, you started to grow impatient as your mind pushes you to send him the suggestive images you took earlier (yes, this was your token of gratitude for ike).

eventually succumbing to your urges, you finally pressed the send button and within 30 seconds, ike sees the pictures you sent to him. while entertaining his viewers, he responds, "i love you but what is this" you feel every ounce of shame creep into your body as if your heart skipped a beat. you pull an attempt to play it cool and make up of a childish excuse, "ike, this is my gift for you <3" ike couldn't help but crack a small smile from your attempt of returning the favor to him, even though it was a bizarre way of thanking someone, he still appreciates the fact that you wanted to gift him a little something. he mutes his microphone for a second and sends you a voice message, "feeling bold today, are we? if you want to bring out that side of me that much then i will do so." he says with his usual tone and voice ever, not unfazed one bit. in fact, you could feel him flashing his iconic, kind smile whilst playing the voice message over and over again and it was too much for you to handle. in the end, you couldn't say anything but reply "yes."

#nijisanji en #luxiem #luxiem smut #luxiem x reader #vox akuma #ike eveland #luca kaneshiro #mysta rias #shu yamino #vox akuma x reader #ike eveland x reader #luca kaneshiro x reader #mysta rias x reader #shu yamino x reader

3K notes · View notes

the-s1lly-corner · 5 months

Note

Caine, Jax and Kinger with an kid reader who is like sleepy and very calm most of the time; like having that sleepy voice and is most likely to sleep standing up.

But when someone gives sugar to reader OH BOI

Reader gets eletric, like running around 300 kilometers per hour (Figuratively, not literally) does jumping jacks and starts like accidentally wrecking havoc with their running cuz they keep knocking things on accident while their run, but after an hour or two, reader just... Sleeps on the ground like they didnt almost destroy the entire place an minute ago.

Im going through an hard time in my life and currently your blog has been comforting me, so ilysm! Tyy<3 stay safe!

- ♣️

Caine, Jax, and Kinger x sleepy!kid!reader who gets zoomies (platonic!)

Eeueueuee lemme just say I love this idea so much I remember seeing this when it first got sent in and I just

UGH!!!/pos

Hope you enjoy anon!

CAINE:

I was about to say that he would wear one of those kid baby carrier harness things to carry you around when you fall asleep but then I remembered how short Caine is LMAO... that said I think he would probably like. Idk summon a digital cloud or something to carry you to bed. Very nice very sweet, I think! Honestly I kind of love dad Caine...

Thinks you look absolutely adorable when you do the sleepy wobble when you're standing. Probably calls for nap time periods during IHAs

One day he thought it would be a good day to reward everyone with candy after a IHA and he just

Watches wide eyed when you suddenly start running all over the place. What happened? Is this normal? Are you okay? He tries to zoom after you to catch you before you hurt yourself

Lots of chaos for the next half hour or so. I think he would even resort to sending out bubble to intercept you

Carefully scoops you up when you succumb to the sugar crash and just

Stands there as you fall asleep on him

Very lost very confused, though the sugar rush thing was a myth

JAX:

Very similar event from Caine's part. Everyone is given a piece of candy after successfully completing an IHA. I do think that Caine would still enforce naptime breaks during IHAs during Jax and Kingers pieces too, since I think caine would just generally want to keep this kid friendly/safe but maybe that's just me falling in love with dad caine

But this is about jax

Real quick before we get into the sugar rush, let's talk about your general sleepiness. Honestly I think he would be a little worried about how tired you are all the time... what's that? Jax worried about something? Now that's new!

Jokes aside I think he would try to ask around for any advice on how to boost your energy. Earns him some looks because it's kind of out of character for him. And you know what? It is.. but I think he would be soft for his new adopted kid

Tends to carry you around when you get sleepy, which is often

Now for the sugar rush. One second you're there and the next you're bolting and running around all crazy. I think he just. Stand there flabbergasted for a second because he thinks it's a little funny

Doesnt intervene until you start knocking into things... and almost knock into him

Now we know how fast jax can be, so I think he wouldnt have much issue catching you (assuming that part in the pilot was more than a gag.. it likely was just a gag but I'm feeling silly)

Kind of just holds you up in the air while you flail and try to run away.. before eventually going limp in his grasp

Similar to caine he kind of just stands there. Very taken aback. Thinks it's a little funny though.

"Comeon kid, let's get ya to bed"

KINGER:

Same scenario with the candy after an IHA.. but first, of course, how kinger is with your eepy self

Honestly you two just hang out together in the pillow fort. Its nice and soft and cozy. So even if you werent so tired all the time you would still have a very easy time falling asleep in his fort!

Usually he will take you to your room when it's nighttime... cue the universal memory of falling asleep and waking up somewhere else as a child

Always makes sure you're tucked in and with your favorite plushie... now kinger would have a baby harness and be able to carry you around when you get tired

Let's out a yelp when you suddenly get your sugar induced zoomies. Tries to run after you but you're just way too fast. I think some of the others would take some pity on him and try to help him. Probably pomni, ragatha, and gangle.. zooble cant be bothered and jax is just laughing at the situation because it aint his kid.. caine may try to help if hes still hanging around

Panics when you suddenly slump over and fall asleep on the floor. Is going to have to be reassured that you did not just

You know... and that you're just asleep

Makes a mental note to limit sugar

...its not even real sugar.. its digital.. bro is beside himself trying to make sense of it

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #caine x reader #jax x reader #kinger x reader

178 notes · View notes

bit-odd-innit · 1 year

Text

I made a joke tag on this post about how Nancy is genre-aware and can feel the arbitrary love triangle closing in around her but then I thought about it for a millisecond too long and— Nancy can’t shake it: The muggy, suffocating pressure prickling along her skin and cottoning up her lungs. At first it’s easy to ignore. She’s been shaking off the relentless crush of pressure in one form or another for years. They are bigger things to focus on, bigger mysteries to solve. So when she catches Dustin watching her and Steve with what she can only describe as wist she’s confused, but she lets it slide. She thinks, not without guilt, they really only spend this kind of time together when the world is ending. Maybe he’s nostalgic. It’s sweet, in a twisted, broken sort of way. She resolves to make more of an effort when this is all over, but right now everyone needs to focus on what’s important— But then she’s walking through the woods and Robin is talking about rekindling old flames that should have never been snuffed out and it jars her into a stutter step. Because what? Where did that come from? Robin wasn’t there when there was a flame, paltry and dim though it was. Steve’s always been kinder to her than she deserved, so maybe his version of events gave Robin a false sense of their compatibility. Even so, why? And why bring it up now? She can’t parse it now, so she latches to the one thing that makes hope spark in her chest: Robin calls her a friend. Robin considers her a friend. And it’s been so long since someone has earnestly, sincerely called her a friend, she basks in the warmth of it and almost lets herself forget how strange— And then Steve is smiling at her so sweetly and his eyes are shining so brightly and he’s telling her about his dream, about six kids and a Winnebago and she knows she’s meant to be charmed by it all but instead she feels like she standing at the gallows with a noose flush to her throat. When they get a brief moment of calm, she takes Eddie aside.

“Did you tell Steve we should get back together?” He grins, lopsided and smug. “No need to thank me, when it comes to matters of the heart I am but a humble messenger—” “Why?” “Why what?” “Why do you think Steve and I should get back together?” Eddie blinks, his smile sliding off his face, and there’s a dull flicker of confusion in his big bright eyes, as if he just found himself caught somewhere he was not meant to be. But then it vanishes and he’s back to one, beaming and bombastic as he answers, “Isn’t it obvious?” “Explain it to me.” “I—” His tongue darts out to wet his lips and his gazes bounces across her features, scanning for the answer he thinks she wants. “Its...That’s what’s supposed to happen.” “Eddie.” She doesn’t break eye contact, keeps her voice steady, encloses her hands around his trembling fingers. “Dig deep. Why did you tell Steve we should get back together?” The color drains from his face, his eyebrows bowing in fear. “I don’t know,” he whispers. “I don’t know why I said that. I think...” His mouth falls open, working soundlessly, and he huffs out a shaky breath. “I think I wanted to say something else? But I don’t remember...I don’t remember what I, and then that came out instead, and I don’t know why I said it I don’t know why I said it Wheeler what the fuck?” “I know.”

“I’m wanted for murder I don’t care about your relationship woes! I didn’t even know you guys dated until after you broke up, and that was what? Two years ago?” “Almost three,” she says quietly. “Wheeler what the fuck?! Is this...?” He drops his chin to his chest and waggles his hands in a faint circle. Because they are still connected, Nancy’s hands go along for the ride. “Is this him?” “No.” A righteous fury licks its way up from her belly, fanning out across her circulatory system. The muscles in her neck strain as she clenches her jaw. “No, this is something else.”

“What’re we gonna do?” “We’re going to fix it.” “How?” “I’m rewriting our plan,” she replies. And when she sets her shoulders and straightens her spine she feels the pressure that means to crush her push in. And she pushes back. “I’m rewriting all of it.”

#nancy: if the writers of my story will not give me agency then i will take it from them by force #what if the two characters who would be most familiar with story structure worked together to rewrite their own narratives ha ha what then #stranger things #nancy wheeler #eddie munson #steddie

910 notes · View notes

drewharrisonwriter · 8 months

Text

Donor | Part 1.5 | Not Dad Enough

Part 1 | Part 1.5 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Oh, no. I made a drabble... I think. LOL

Pairings: Bestie Henry Cavill x OFC

This was supposed to be just a short drabble for my fic Donor. But I guess this is too long, lol so this happened between chapters 1 and 2 and shows Henry and reader going through the first round of IUI.

I’m AO3, too as MoonDjarin ^_^

Part 1 | Part 1.5 | Part 2 | Part 3

During the week of your first IUI procedure, Henry had flown back over the weekend before, having taken a break from filming his latest project for the year. The process leading up to the insemination wasn't too time-consuming; they just needed his sample, and the whole procedure could be completed within a few hours. So, you were quite surprised when he mentioned that he had taken off for the next two weeks.

"Why? Do you have plans with your family?" you asked, racking your brain to recall any upcoming birthdays or events.

He shook his head, his expression earnest. "No, not at all. I just... I want to make sure you're alright," he replied, his eyes holding a mixture of concern and determination.

You let out a small, surprised chuckle. "You really don't have to do that, you know. Besides, what could possibly go wrong after the procedure?" you teased, though a warmth spread through you at his thoughtfulness.

He chuckled softly in response. "Honestly, I'm not entirely sure. I just want to be here, at least until you have to take the first test."

His words touched your heart, and you couldn't help but smile at his earnestness. It was in these small moments that you realized just how you lucked out on having Henry as your best friend and your future child's father. ---

As the procedure was completed, you found yourself lying on the examination table, legs up in the air as instructed, for the next 15 minutes. Henry stood by your side, holding your hand gently, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand.

"Feeling okay?" he asked softly, concern etching his features as he looked down at you.

You gave him a reassuring smile, your fingers tightening around his. "Yeah, I'm alright. Just a little nervous, I guess."

Henry's grip on your hand tightened slightly, and he leaned in closer. "You don't have to be nervous. You got this," he said, his voice full of encouragement.

You nodded, grateful for his presence. "I know, it's just... What if it doesn't work? What if this whole process ends up being for nothing? I feel like I have wasted your time and...sperm." You grimaced at the last part and Henry laughed.

He sighed softly, his gaze never leaving yours. "Hey, there will always be another time for a next round. We can keep trying until it works, alright? But for now, let's just focus on this moment."

Your heart swelled at his words. Despite his playful demeanor, Henry's sincerity always managed to shine through, comforting you when you needed it the most. You gave him a small smile. "You're right. Thanks for being here with me, Hank... and you know, for allowing me to drag you into this."

His answering smile was soft and reassuring. "Always, Y/N."

---

After the procedure, you both returned home.

Henry suggested watching a movie to help you relax, and you settled on "Night Hunter." Despite Henry's eye roll at your choice, he acquiesced, knowing that you were set on it and not in the mood for any debates.

The film had its share of tense moments, interspersed with lighter ones that brought occasional snickers from you.

One particular scene caught your attention—Walter Marshall, the character played by Henry, was sitting on the kitchen floor with his on-screen daughter, attempting to have a heartfelt moment.

You couldn't help but chuckle dryly, cringing at the dialogue and the lack of genuine paternal energy emanating from Henry's portrayal.

"Wow," you commented, your voice laced with amusement, your gaze locked on the screen.

Henry glanced at you, his brows furrowing. "What's so amusing?"

"Come on," you chuckled, nudging him playfully. "If you're trying to show off your potential co-parenting skills, this movie isn't exactly boosting your case."

"Hey!" He gave you a playful mock-glare. "You're making fun of my acting skills. How dare you?"

"Just a little," you admitted, giving him another playful nudge.

“So mean,” he muttered, his hand moving theatrically to his chest, as if nursing a wounded heart. Sooo dramatic. You laughed.

Your gaze remained fixed on the screen. "I mean, it's just that I'm not quite getting the 'dad vibes' from you in this scene."

Henry laughed, a genuine sound that filled the room. "Fair enough. Guess I have some work to do if I want to impress as a movie dad."

You grinned, nodding in agreement. "Definitely a bit of room for improvement."

He leaned back on the couch, arm casually draped across the backrest, his eyes still on the movie. "Well, I'll consider this valuable feedback."

"I'm glad I could contribute to your acting growth," you quipped, a playful twinkle in your eye.

"Always striving for improvement," Henry replied, a hint of laughter lingering in his voice. "But in my defense, being a movie dad is a whole different ball game."

You raised an eyebrow, your tone teasing. "Oh, I see. So, you're saying real-life co-parenting would be a breeze for you?"

Henry's lips curled into a playful smile. "Well, I'd like to think I'd have a better grasp of it, but I guess there's only one way to find out."

The two of you exchanged amused glances, the easy banter between you a testament to the comfort of your friendship. As the movie continued to play, you leaned back against the couch, feeling the warmth of Henry's presence beside you.

"I guess we'll have to wait and see," you mused softly, your voice holding a touch of anticipation.

"Indeed," he agreed, his gaze briefly meeting yours before returning to the screen. And as the movie scenes unfolded, you felt yourself growing more at ease, the laughter and companionship settling any lingering nerves from the day's events.

Eventually, the familiarity of your shared space and the comfort of Henry's company began to take its toll, and you found yourself succumbing to drowsiness. Your head rested against his shoulder, a contented sigh escaping you as you closed your eyes.

He glanced down at you, a soft smile forming as he watched your peaceful expression in sleep. His heart swelled with a mix of fondness and a growing sense of longing. He carefully adjusted his position, allowing you to rest comfortably against him, his arm holding you close. As the movie continued to play in the background, he couldn't help but contemplate the possibility of a deeper connection with you, one that extended beyond the realm of co-parenting.

Part 1 | Part 1.5 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Tag list:

@jyessaminereads @summersong69 @itsrubberbisquit @sweetandgentlecreature @kingliam2019 @leaveitbythewave @mrsevans90 @evansabove1981 @bascmve01 @shellyshellshell @iamsana @foxyjwls007 @one-sweet-gubler @henryownsme

#Henry Cavill #henry cavill fic #henry cavill x #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x pregnant reader #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x you #henrycavilledit #hcavilledit

284 notes · View notes

sleeplesssmoll · 5 months

Text

Reverse1999: I Overlooked an entire Timeskip (spoilers for Ch 3)

And more character analysis because I can't help it. A deeper dive into Vertin and Sonetto's dynamic.

I was under the assumption the time Vertin gave Sonetto the frog and the Break-away events were relatively close but I was mistaken (Why do I have eyes if I'm not going to use them?). Take a look at these avatars. Sorry about the image quality:

This is Vertin and Sonetto in the hallway during the frog event.

This is them during the Parade Ceremony:

Years must have passed after Vertin had her feelings hurt. Look how fluffy Sonetto became and Vertin started putting her hair up. Idk why I didn't notice this right away but the two had more tension between them than I originally thought. Kids feel things very deeply. Even if you're an adult and your memory is foggy, it's easier to recall the way you felt in those moments than the events themselves. This changes some of the context I see things.

These two rarely interacted but are keenly aware of each other's presence for better or worse. Even when Sonetto's confronting her years after the frog event, Vertin is very soft/quiet in those interactions. The usual sass and dry humor we see her treat situations with in Ch 3 is suddenly gone. Also, this is Vertin we're talking about. She's the rulebreaker. She doesn't care about the handbook or the bullies who pick on her. She steps out of line. She asks the questions no one wants to answer. She's used to being berated by teachers but still carries on catching frogs, even if it means getting hurt by the electric fence.

Yet, Sonetto's rejection cut her deeply.

Vertin values Sonetto's opinion above most people's in chapter 3.

On one hand you could say it's because of a crush but on the other hand, maybe she's still hurt from that day in the hallway. Maybe she doesn't know how to handle Sonetto, especially since the top student tends to avoid her unless necessary. Vertin mentions this when Sonetto lends her notes after the tear gas incident. Not to mention her confusion when Sonetto shows up to help her fight Lilya. There's so many things she wants to ask, yet there is not enough time. The two say their goodbyes. Sonetto wants to make sure Vertin won't regret her decision. By leaving, Vertin will be throwing away everything the Foundation gave her. It's symbolic of Vertin the rebel leaving the Foundation's top dog behind.

But the scene invokes sadness rather than triumph. Sonetto was never her enemy. Vertin overcame every moment of hesitation until this point. When the door slowly lowers between them, they watch as it closes. Vertin only leaves once its completely shut.

Despite all this, Vertin never truly left Sonetto behind. Present Vertin remembers Sonetto's quirks and habits from back when they were children (we can see this in the prologue). In Vertin's dreams we see her still wishing to show Sonetto the world. She's living rent free in the Timekeeper's head.

As for Sonetto, I don't think she ever hated Vertin but she was frustrated by her rule breaking. Vertin's already a troublesome student because of her weak arcanum but she exacerbates it by being rebellious. Sonetto won't bite the hand that feeds her. She is grateful for the Foundation's "care".

However, She'll reluctantly come over if Vertin calls, even if she knows Vertin is being a rascal again. She warns Vertin constantly about behaving but we've never seen her snitch. Perhaps she knows what will happen if she does. Vertin will get hurt. She tries to stop her herself because the instructors have no patience for Vertin. She threatens to tell on Vertin before the Parade when she realizes Vertin is up to something. She could have easily reported Vertin before the Parade, but she doesn't. First time seeing this I read it "I've got my eye on you." The second time, I read it as "I don't want you to get hurt." She's trying to deter Vertin from acting out because the Parade Ceremony is huge and Vertin's already spent time in the guardhouse. The instructors are pulling out all stops.

When Sonetto was ordered to fight her friends she was confused and froze up. When the kids were locked in the guardhouse, she tried to bring them food but was turned away. She tries to show kindness while working within the Foundation's parameters but doesn't understand that won't be enough. There is a very loving person and curious person underneath the Foundation's indoctrination. I think Vertin saw glimpses of that in Sonetto but didn't understand why Sonetto couldn't act on them like she did.

Here we have two people who care about each other but can't overcome the differences between each other to make it work.

Although, it makes you wonder, why Sonetto? It could have been any other student with a sense of curiosity.

But its always Sonetto.

And what the hell happened between in the time Vertin became the Timekeeper to make Sonetto's attitude do a 180? Is it because she had more freedom to be herself after becoming an investigator? Did she try to get closer to Vertin after the break away event because she was worried about her? How much contact did she have with Vertin after this because Vertin is treated differently after becoming the Timekeeper.

#reverse 1999 #reverse: 1999 #sonetto #vertin #character analysis

150 notes · View notes

maybank-archives · 9 months

Text

sweet touch - jj maybank

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

warning: minors DNI! NSFW, smut, virginity loss, praise-ish talk, sexual content overall. words count: 1.6k author’s notes: i'm back!!! part 2 to sweet desire is finally out! you can find part one here but you can totally read this by its own. it's a bit long because as usual i got carried away with the context. :) also happy birthday rudy!

masterlist :)

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

JJ holds my hand tightly as we enter the chateau quietly, the moment that we step into his bedroom, he locks the door pressing our bodies on the wall. His tongue slips through my parted lips and fills my mouth, I wrap my arms around his neck and eagerly return the kiss, the way his hands are pulling me close to him triggers an instant feeling of arousal that spirals to my core.

He reaches down and cups my ass, he breaks the kiss breathlessly. “Is that too much?.” he asks, staring at me, my only response is to shake my head.

“You can stop me any time.” His expression is serious.

“I-i don’t want you to stop.” I whisper, he grins at my response pressing my lower body to his.

It’s true, it’s a night of firsts to me but I feel my body hot and desperate for JJ.

Plus, I’m good. I'm not saving myself for the love of my life or something like that, sex could be a big event for some people, but personally, I’m just doing what feels good, and God, this feels awesome.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this.” he growls against my neck planting wet kisses at every spot. “you’re so hot.”

The tension between my legs grows and grows until I’m shamelessly grinding against his thigh in a desperate attempt to ease the desire.

“JJ.” I moaned under my breath involuntarily.

“Yes, cupcake,” he replies without lifting his gaze, his mouth exploring every inch of my neck while his hands are busy grabbing my body eagerly.

“Take my clothes off…please.” he froze for a second, lifting his eyes with a smirk on his face.

“Since you insist.” He comes closer to me, slowly lifting my shirt, as soon as my top goes through my head, his eyes fall into my breast, "fucking beautiful." he grabs my waist and guides me to the bed, my calves bump the edge of the bed frame.

“Lie back, beautiful.” JJ demands, I do as he says and fall back on my elbows.

I watch JJ take my pants off whilst staring at my body only in lingerie. It’s like he’s scanning every part of me to keep on his memory. He kneels in between my legs on the floor, his fingers reach my bra and tug to the side exposing my nipples.

I close my eyes feeling his warm breath on my skin, he flicks his tongue over one nipple, pushing my breast deeper in his mouth, I whimper in response, JJ squeezes the other one before releasing my nipple with a wet sound. He placed his hands on my thighs. “You okay?” I nod wordlessly.

He lowers himself, licking his lips as he watches me spreading my legs and pushing my panties off, he swallows as he could taste me already. “Fuck.” he groans squeezing my thighs. He slowly runs his finger into my folds, teasing my clit. His finger comes back wet, he smirks once again before bringing his mouth to my pussy. My eyes get shut immediately.

His tongue travels down from my slit to my opening nonstop, he licks his way back to my swollen clit flicking his tongue against it, my moans become more desperate just like my hips as it keeps rocking as he teases me.

JJ finally eases the tip of his index finger inside me, I let out a throaty cry

“Good baby?” He murmurs, gazing up at me.

“Mmm-hmmm”

JJ’s strokes are slow, his tongue is now tracing circles on my clit as his fingers inch deeper into me. He gets up without taking his finger inside me. “You’re so tight princess and, God…so wet,” he murmurs as he slowly brings his finger to his mouth, licking them. “I could keep tasting you all night baby girl.”

That’s it. I couldn’t be more horny.

As he gets up on his knees, I can’t help to notice the bulge marked on his pants, he takes his shirt and pants promptly. I saw JJ shirtless all the time and it’s always breathtaking, but this time it’s different.

“Um, J?.” I asked

“Yes, baby girl?

“Can I?” I blurred the words staring at his crotch.

“As much as I would love this, I think tonight is all about you y/n.” he approaches me

It’s inevitable to not ask for it. What’s happening to me?

“Please?” I insisted, sitting on the edge of the bed

“Fuck Y/N, are you trying to make me come right now?” he asks, grabbing my chin “You don’t have to do this.” He whispered pecking my lips

“I know”

I adjust myself sitting on my knees, my fingernails reaching right under the waistband, he brings his hands closer to mine pushing his underwear off, my hands go to feel his thighs and abs and they slide until I take his cock in my hand.

JJ hisses softly when I start moving my hand in firm strokes. I leaned forward moving my mouth closer, I tasted the precum on the tip of his cock. JJ hums in approval, I could see him trying to keep his balance standing.

The movements started slow, it was probably like teasing for JJ, my free hand reached for his balls massaging them softly, as I started to pick up the rhythm, my mouth took him further, hollowing my cheeks and fluttering my tongue against him, his hips began to twitch.

“You are doing s’good baby.” JJ praises, placing his hand on the back of my head.

It felt intoxicating, I lifted my head almost entirely off him and sucked vigorously on the tip until he was writhing, I kept taking his cock as far into my mouth as I could, swallowing around him. Each time his length was close to my throat JJ let out a curse between his lips.

“Oh fuck.” He growled as I moved. The wet sounds of my mouth around his cock filled the room, along with the heavy breathing and his quiet groans which were growing louder by the second.

“Let me cum inside you baby girl, I won’t last with this pretty mouth around me.” JJ says lowering himself, smashing his lips against mine, our tongues clashing exploring each other eagerly.

He climbs on top of my body, forcing me to adjust myself on the bed. He reaches for a condom in his drawer, rolling it down effortlessly the length of his shaft. I swallow hard, preparing myself mentally.

“Are you sure about this?” He asks spreading my legs open

“Yes.” I replied, breathing my nervousness away.

His features are serious as he brings his erection to my opening. He slides forward, and I tense involuntarily. He puts just the tip and I can feel the pressure. His cock is a lot thicker than the one finger he’d just had inside me. “Are you okay?” His voice is husky with a tone of concern

“Yes.” I say again

JJ tries to stay still, I can see him trying to control himself, It’s a weird sensation, but not completely unpleasant.

“I’m going to let you get used to it, k?” He says adjusting himself without making harsh movements.

“I’m good, Y-you can go faster,” I say

“I don’t want to hurt you, baby girl.”

“J….” I said looking up at him with doe eyes

“You look so even hotter when you beg.”

The pain is starting to turn into anticipation, JJ keeps his strokes slow without thrusting all of his length but as he reads my mind he brings his hand to my clit, massaging it helping ease the tension. I can resist lifting my hips moving close to him.

“You are taking me so well baby.” he croaks “Can you handle more? he asks receiving a nod in response.

“I need words, baby.”

“Yes J.”

“Good girl”

He takes his hands off my clit, making me whimper, but my disappointment is replaced by a wave of pleasure as he holds my waist while his erection inches out, slightly, then glides back in.

A gasp escapes my lips.

“Do that again, please.”

JJ gives me a small chuckle as he repeats his moves. His mouth finds mine in a tender kiss, and then his hips begin to move faster. I hold on tight, digging my fingers into his strong back. He sinks his hands to the side deepening the contact.

“God, you feel amazing.” JJ moans

He fills me, over and over again, each long stroke intensifying the ache inside me, my skin is hot. I need more. My clit is swollen, throbbing. JJ slides his fingers again in between my legs, giving me extra stimulation which feels amazing.

“Y-yes J, don't stop please.”

“I won’t baby, I want you to come for me, you’ve done so well.”

As he increases the pace, snapping his hips forward, his cock hits the spot deep inside, my mouth goes dry with saliva with the sensation.

“J..I-i’m gonna cum.” I arch my spine and slam my eyes shut, biting my lips containing the urge to moan loudly, my body shivered with ecstasy as JJ kept rubbing my clit. I whine with the familiar feeling of lust filling me.

“Oh fuck” he curses slamming on more time, his body slows as he grunts in a release.

His forehead is covered in sweat, his body collides by my side as we both breathe heavily.

“That was amazing,” JJ whispers “Are you ok?.”

“Oh my God, yes,” I reply, trying to control my breath.

“I guess there’s a list of others first for you right baby?.” JJ stares at me with a lazy smirk on his face.

You chuckle at his comment "Yes Maybank, will you help me with those too?"

"When can we start?."

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

#jj maybank #obx #outerbanks #jj maybank smut #jj obx #rudy pankow #outer banks #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank headcanon #jj maybank x you #jjmaybanksmut #jjmaybankpov #jj maybank imagine #rudypankow smut #jjmaybank #jj maybank imagines

399 notes · View notes

eddies-house · 8 months

Text

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter Four - Boiling Point

W/C: 7.4K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of vomiting, slight SA (groping), drinking (if I missed anything please let me know)

A messy night and several unfortunate events.

A/N: This one got a little long but it was so fun to write, chaos is really fun to coordinate but my poor babies are taking the brunt of it all woops

Masterlist

Prev | Next

Working nights had flipped your entire sleeping schedule upside down. Two weeks had passed since that first evening where you worked an entire shit show and you still weren’t accustomed to resting in the afternoon in preparation for the night shift. It didn’t seem like such a big deal seeing as the bar thrived around three nights a week and remained quiet to steady the rest of the time but with a staff of only four, the workload piles up. Tossing and turning on the couch, you groan, longing for a peaceful sleep that would energize you. The bed wasn’t doing you any justice which is why the couch sounded that much more appealing but as it turns out they both had the same effect.

Keeping you awake.

Now, there wasn’t anything remotely wrong with either one however, you just couldn’t seem to get comfortable enough to find that blissful sleep you were yearning for.

You were restless.

What didn’t help was the incessant shredding of an electric guitar next door. The high pitch clawed at your ears and echoed throughout the canyon your house was settled in. You could either suck it up and muffle the sound as best as you could with a pillow, or you could confront your noisy neighbor and politely let him know you were trying to sleep in order to fuel yourself to run his bar. Confrontation was not your specialty and you would avoid it by any means necessary. But it couldn’t hurt to just ask him to stop. The worst he could do is laugh in your face and slam the door.

And that would be enough to turn your blood hot, not in rage, but in shame and embarrassment. Maybe it was best to tuck your sweaty and fidgety body back into the couch for long enough that the imprints of the rough fabric would show up as indentations on your skin. Hopefully the shrieking of the guitar would eventually fade away and become background noise in your dreams.

It never did stop.

–

“Jett, could you please toss me that rag? Major spill at table four.”

It was 6:00 PM, Friday night. Just about every table and every stool was occupied, a competitive game of pool provoking many men to yell at the top of their lungs, causing your ear drums even more grief than the endless guitar solos you had to endure earlier. On top of it all, drunk people on a Friday night were not easy to clean up after, several spills inevitably happening on your watch, with more than enough evidence to back your claim up.

“I’ll get it, you go on your break.” Jett advises.

The Bourbon was nearly at capacity, a majority of the town’s regulars seated along the bar and even more of its residents engaging in their pre-weekend activities. The people of Knife’s Edge were rambunctious or at least, that’s the only side of them you’d seen so far. Most likely because they were all getting hammered. Maybe you should get out more? Then you could see their personalities sober and not glazed over with the confidence of alcohol.

“You sure?” You ask sincerely.

Jett didn’t even have a second to glance up at you from the beers he was collecting, a whole round of them for a table of five men roaring with laughter.

“Yeah, if you don’t take it now it’s only going to get busier and you never will.” He yells over the booming music.

“Okay.”

You’re reluctant to leave him alone but you trust his judgment, seeing as he has no issue making that call. And customers seemed to love him, joking back and forth until he practically dragged himself back behind the bar. They hadn’t seemed to take that kind of liking toward you quite yet and the only compliments you received were gross comments from older men that slurred their words, you respectfully dismissing yourself to tend to other customers just to escape.

Quickly, you make your way toward the back through the narrow hallway that leads out to the alley. The bar had become stuffy, too many humans populating the small space, prompting a much needed break for a breath of fresh air. Almost reaching the door, a haven that would relieve your sweat coated skin with a crisp breeze, you collide into something firm, a deep grunt coming from the source.

“Watch it, Bambi.” Eddie barks, glaring down at you. He holds an unopened bottle of tequila, knuckles white as he tightens his grasp.

“I-I’m sorry.” You stutter, taken back by his stern voice. It was for the most part, always stern but this time it was especially disapproving.

“Where are you going?” He asks, brows furrowed.

“My break. Jett just–”

“Your break? Now? I need all hands on deck right now, take your break in like thirty when it calms down.”

A vein in his neck looks as if it’s about to pop, stress evident in his entire demeanor. Even his lips are bitten and red from what seemed to be constant tugging from his teeth. Maybe he needed a toothpick to chew on instead? Maybe that’s why he chewed on them in the first place?

“Well I–Jett just sent me on break.” You reason.

“Jett?”

“Yeah.”

He breathes in deep, head tilting toward the ceiling as he exhales through his mouth, clearly trying to maintain his calmness. Although it always seemed like he was going to blow up and cause a scene when he got like this, he never did.

“Jesus Christ, kid’s gonna give me an aneurysm.”

Walking down the hall toward the commotion of the bar, he shakes his head, curls bouncing and that famous frizz framing his head like a halo. You keep your movements halted, feet glued to the floor in confusion as to whether you’re meant to follow him or actually go on your break.

“So do I–do you want me to take my break or–”

“Just go.” He calls back, this time a calmer tone detected in his voice.

If you were meant to do the opposite in some sort of reverse psychology moment, you didn’t. The cool air called to you and you were going to use all ten minutes to bathe in it, and reset your nervous system. Eddie could sweat in your place for the time being.

Things had been easier since that first shift; the cook, Randy, had returned and said that he left in the heat of the moment, explaining the following day that he lost his cool and was so certain he was going to quit. Then he came back to his senses and realized how unrealistic that was and that he was in no position to be searching for a new job right now. He was on the verge of begging for his job back but what you’d heard from the back office was Eddie telling him not to ‘pull that shit again’ and to ‘get back to work’. No further discussions or arguments on the topic ensued since that day.

The chilly Autumn air brushed against your cheeks upon stepping out the door, not too much of a bite to it yet but enough to warrant a slight shiver. The sun had already set just over an hour ago, darkness already enclosing the surrounding world. It felt empty and devoid of life, but not in an apocalyptic way, but rather in a serene kind of way. It was quiet except for the whisper of leaves of the birch trees in the wind.

This place still felt so far from home and your loneliness was still as prominent as ever. You worked, went home, slept, woke up at around 10:00 AM, fixed breakfast, attempted to go back to sleep, failed and sometimes visited Donnie at the supermarket, and repeated. The routine was sad and you might as well have been a grouchy old woman that no one spoke to or went near, not a twenty something year old who should be making the most out of her life. The locals weren’t unfriendly, you just couldn’t seem to fit in. Jett was the closest thing you had to a ‘friend’, although he was your coworker and some may see it as mandatory that he remains friendly with you. Outside of work you had little to no interaction with others, usually opting to stay in and clean or watch reruns of some shows you had pre-recorded on a collection of VHS tapes. It’s not to say you didn’t enjoy your nights in, you just wished you had the option to call someone up to hang out or make plans every now and then.

Ten minutes flew by like it was seconds, the door leading inside swinging open unexpectedly and smacking against the concrete wall, Eddie’s head poking out in search of you.

“Excuse me, do you work here?” He asks sarcastically.

You control the urge to roll your eyes, having a better sense of his antics in the past two weeks and knowing that no real consequences would apply to you under these circumstances. You still maintain the need to react to his dramatics and remind him that you were helping him out just as much as he was helping you. But you push it down and straighten your posture.

“Yes.” You reply, eyes staring up at him with a hint of resistance.

“Could’ve had me fooled.” He snaps, ducking back inside.

Following him, you finally give into the urge to roll your eyes behind his back.

“I timed my break just right.” You notify him, glancing at your watch. “I was about to come back.”

“You’re a minute late.”

Instead of allowing you a chance to argue with him, he jumps right back into action and starts clearing off a vacant table. The rush hadn’t stopped all night, table after table being cleared only to immediately seat a new party.

After he strides off with a pile of glasses and a few plates, you get to work on wiping everything clean. It was a newfound system, a plan that hadn’t been agreed on by either of you but was understood regardless. With how understaffed the bar was, it worked like a charm.

Jett’s main role was behind the bar but every now and then he would catch onto whenever you and Eddie were running behind and he would swoop in to take care of a table or two. Recently, you learned that the other bartender, Pete, had quit and skipped town about a week before your arrival, making it that much harder to keep up with the demand of the customers who regularly chose The Bourbon to decompress at. So now it was only you, Eddie, Jett, and Randy running the whole place. It turned out not to be too bad of a gig, weeknights were slow enough and Sundays the bar was closed, leaving Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays as the busiest nights of the week. The tips were decent enough as well.

Especially from those creepy old men which was an unfortunate situation you could do without but hey, it helped pay the bills. If you ignored their advances and didn’t completely reject them, they’d leave behind a nice tip. It felt icky, pocketing the money but the more you thought about it, the more compelled you felt to take their money. If they were going to waste your time, you might as well be compensated for it.

One man in particular had been lurking at one of the corner tables, purposely opting out of the bar seating to instead have a higher chance of you waiting on him. He must have been in his sixties and had an unnerving stare that just made you want to hide back in the kitchen. You failed to inform Eddie, simply because he didn’t need further reason to see you as dainty or incapable of holding your own.

So you gulped down your fear and put the blinders on as best you could.

Just take his order and get it over with. Then you can move on with your night and hopefully he’ll be out of here soon.

And right off the bat, his disgusting mouth started running. Something about ‘can a pretty little thing like you get me a drink?’. Then a few more unsolicited nicknames with a smirk and some remark about how good your body looked. Something you didn’t care to hold onto in your mind, you only felt the need to take a shower.

As you rounded the corner of the bar and got to work making the pervert’s drink, you found yourself lost in thought. Thoughts about if he found out where you lived, you may be done for. It was a small town after all and it wouldn’t be difficult.

“Hey, you good?” Jett asks, shaker in hand, concern obvious in his knit eyebrows.

“What?” You’re pulled out of your mind, shaking your head as if to lure yourself back to reality. “Yeah, I’m fine.” You assure him.

He nods but his expression shows that he’s not very convinced. You finish off the drink you’d been absentmindedly making, a scotch on the rocks while offering Jett one more reassuring smile before making your way out from behind the bar.

Like you were throwing yourself back into the lion’s den, you approach the man’s table, hoping to quickly drop off his drink and be on your way. If only life were ever so kind to you.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” A disgusting grin paints his face and just before you can mumble an ‘mhm’ and rush off, an unwelcome hand gropes your ass, sliding down, down, down. You can’t see his face but you know he displays the most revolting smirk following his actions.

With a yelp followed by a gasp, you freeze. Paralyzed, you aren’t sure how to move forward, how do you recover from being reduced to a piece of meat? Flesh to be gawked at and held onto without permission. An object to be handled.

“I-I’m sorry but—“ You begin to stumble over your words but never get the chance to say much more when the sound of a chair screeching against the wood floors, arguably worse than nails on a chalkboard, is heard behind you.

Upon turning around, you’re met with the sight of your boss shoving the repulsive man toward the door by the collar of his mustard stained shirt. Eddie's strength shows despite his lean figure, appearing to have no trouble in maneuvering the man where he wants him against the door.

“What the fuck was that?” Eddie bites, nostrils flaring as his cheeks seem to heat with a hue of red.

“Listen—“

The man’s hands are thrown up in surrender but it’s apparent that wasn’t the true intent behind his actions. An excuse was on the tip of his tongue before Eddie cut him off, not an ounce of patience left.

“What. The. Fuck. Was that?” He repeats, grip tightening on the shirt collar, face inching closer to the man as a means of intimidation.

“Just a little flirting, she was into it.”

You can’t help but grimace at the pathetic attempt to cover up what had actually happened. And it seemed that Eddie didn’t take too well to that answer either, further pushing the man into the door if even possible. The scene had drawn the attention of almost the whole bar, a sea of eyeballs glued to the altercation about to happen, your very being flushed from embarrassment from the mere idea of being the source of all of it. Had you walked away quicker, it would’ve gone unnoticed and you could’ve gone on with your night, leaving everyone else undisturbed.

“Yeah?” Eddie cocks his head to the side, his chest heaving. “Didn’t seem like she was into it to me.”

“She was—“

“I wasn’t fuckin’ asking. She wasn’t into it.”

If looks could kill, the guy would be erased from existence with no trace of life left behind on Eddie’s account. His big brown eyes showcased pure rage, a distinct difference from the annoyance and the fiery glare he’d cast on you every so often, especially when you would forget to pile up the dishes his way. No, this was far more devastating and should you one day be the recipient of his aggressive stare, you’d be reduced to tears on the spot.

“Now you’re gonna get the hell out of my bar. I never wanna see you again—“

“Listen man, I’m not—“

“I’m fucking talking.” Eddie growls. “You get the hell out of here and never come back, you hear me? And you better fucking hope I don’t catch you pulling some shit like that again, I will kick your goddamn teeth in.” He promises.

Confrontations like this were not something you were familiar with, always running off before things got too far. You suppose that’s why people feel it was okay to use you as a doormat. It always feels easier to drop it and walk away, ‘be the bigger person’ or whatever they say. Even if it actually meant making you feel like the smallest person on earth.

All the back and forth and frequent swears with intention of aggravation had labored your breathing, your chest struggling to allow movement, feeling like a straw was delivering air to your lungs. Just when you’d attempt to swallow a big enough breath of air, it would all go to waste and only provide just enough oxygen to get by. A cold sweat threatened to spill from your hairline, your palms clammy to match. The murmurs and whispers of witnesses had your eyes darting from person to person, suddenly all too aware of the life you were living.

Too human.

You don’t remember another word exchanged between the two men and you certainly don’t remember how you managed to claw your way to the bathroom amidst the turmoil. But here you were, staring into the dingy mirror with no purpose other than to escape. And it wasn’t working. Suddenly the lights were too bright and the room was too small, but it was secluded and that's what mattered. Having some kind of an episode in front of the entire bar would be far worse, having an episode alone where prying eyes cannot dissect your every movement and reason for being is the better option. It wasn’t often that your mind went to this extent when being faced with a challenging situation but when it did, you didn’t find it easy to come out of.

You heard your name floating somewhere in the bleach scented air but couldn’t quite bring yourself back enough to recognize who required your attention. There was a head peeking in at the door after some frequent knocking and though you kept insisting you were okay and just to give you a few minutes, the individual seemed to have reason not to believe you.

“Hey, Ed!” He called behind him. It was Jett. A sweet and scared out of his mind Jett from what you could decipher through squinted eyes and blurred vision. He was obviously being faced with unfamiliar territory, I mean who is ever prepared to talk someone down from an anxiety attack in the middle of a shift? Panic was evident in his voice just as much as it was evident in your whole body.

“Eddie, I need some help!” He yells again. “Hey, you okay? What happened? Do you need–”

“Move over.” You hear Eddie mumble before the door swings open, the hinges squeaking painfully. “You’re asking too many questions.”

With a swift shut of the door, Jett hurries back to attend to the several customers awaiting service.

“Listen to me, Bambi. You gotta breathe.” His voice is smooth, a huge contrast to what you’d just heard moments ago.

When your legs begin to feel wobbly, as if you were a calf taking its first steps, you slowly lower yourself to the ground, a sturdy hand wrapping around your upper arm to support you.

“In.” Eddie inhales, though you can only hear him since your eyes are shut so tightly, your eyelids might rip. “Out.” He exhales. “C’mon, breathe in–”

“Is she oka—”

“Jett, fuck off for a minute. Please.” Eddie begs, clearly fed up before returning to his newfound gentle tone. “Can you look at me?” He diverts his attention back to you, Jett taking the hint and shutting the door, leaving you and Eddie alone.

Eyes squeezed shut, you shake your head. Your body shakes involuntarily, the anxiety becoming even worse when you try to contain it, like it wants to jump out and strangle you.

“Okay, okay.” He attempts to soothe. “You wanna get some air?” He asks just above a whisper.

“I-I dunno. ‘M sorry.” You manage to choke out, sniffling.

“Okay, no big deal.” He sighs, running a hand down his face, not out of irritation but more so exhaustion. “Let’s get you outside, it’s too hot in here.”

Before you can protest, he’s wrapping an arm around your shoulders and supporting the majority of your weight against him, walking you out of the bathroom and out the door into the alley. The chilly air bites at your skin and thankfully, reality slowly starts to return again.

“Try breathing again, in and out.” Eddie encourages.

You nod, jaw locked tightly both from the cold and from the paralyzing anxiety coursing through your veins. Your teeth feel as if they could crack at any second, the pressure from you biting down too immense but you can’t bring yourself to unhinge your jaw.

“In.” Eddie coaches, exaggerating a large breath, his chest rising with the motion. “Out.” He exhales through his mouth, his breath visible in the air.

He continues the breathing exercise a few more times, you following carefully as things become clear again. And from all that had just happened, all you could gather was that you were a huge baby who couldn’t handle a rogue customer. You weren’t capable of holding things down when it got rough.

Pathetic.

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t know–I don’t know what happened–” You try to make sense of it all, failing miserably.

“What happened was some pervert copped a feel and we don’t play around with that shit here.”

Anger is obvious within his expression, even more so when he pulls out his pack of cigarettes and lights one hastily.

“Did you…”

The question is on the tip of your tongue however, you won’t let yourself say it at the risk of sounding even more like an injured bird.

“What?” He asks, kicking around a few pebbles, the cigarette hanging from his lip before he brings his fingers up to grab it and inhale. His brows are knit together, still beyond bothered by the dispute that just occurred.

“Nevermind.” You mumble.

His gaze meets yours, lashes casting perfect shadows just over his cheek bones in the warm lighting of the street lamp and once again, among all the darkness that pools in those chocolatey irises, there is a twinkle. Barely noticeable but still there.

“What?” He urges again, voice monotone.

“Did you…did he…?”

“Did I fuck him up?” He asks, brows raised.

You nod bashfully, a hint of fear flashing in your eyes.

“No.” Eddie scoffs. “I should’ve though.” He flicks the ash from his cigarette toward the ground. “Motherfucker.” He mumbles.

“Why didn’t you then?”

It was too forward and you had no business asking. Really, it just tumbled out, off of your tongue, barely a thought behind it before it was too late. Now you were just asking for a reaction, not a good one at that.

“It was either that or let Bambi suffocate in the bathroom. Gotta pick your battles.” He gestures toward you, shrugging.

It wasn’t the reaction you were expecting, you were bracing for a bigger explosion. Waiting for him to tell you to get back to work and to stop asking questions. But he didn’t. He just continued to kick little pebbles around on the pavement, his boot scuffing along the surface as he smoked. He looked relaxed for once.

“Oh.” You reply, staring down at your own shoes. “I-I’m sorry.”

“Is apologizing like…your hobby?” He questions, shoving his other hand into his pocket.

“Well–uh no, no–”

“I love that you’re out here having bonding time but I’m a one man show in there and I need some supporting acts.” Jett interrupts, the door creating a gust of wind and then flooding you with temporary warmth from the air inside. “I at least need Eddie.” He pleads.

Nodding frantically, you begin to make your way back inside, Jett already speeding off to resume his duties.

“Hey, you okay to go back in there?” Eddie asks, dropping his cigarette and stomping it out. “You can take another minute–”

“I’m fine.” You insist. He didn’t need further evidence that you were frail and incapable. Whether it was intentional or not, he had bruised your sliver of self-confidence.

–

The rush was finally over, the last of it being a party of ten which left a table full of dishes to be delivered to the kitchen for washing. Each plate was stacked in your palms, piled high as you worked one hand out from underneath to add on a few cups, cutting down on the amount of trips you would need to make. You’d blocked out the vile events that occurred earlier in the night, at least until you had time to cry about it to yourself which when working at The Bourbon, there was never time for that. So it would have to wait until the drive home. Maybe you’d even save it for the shower where you could truly release all of your emotions in peace, no judging eyes or risk of a car accident.

Successfully stacking a few cups among the tower of plates, you spin on your heel, making your way toward the kitchen as the others cleaned up, Jett wiping down the bar and kicking out the lingering drunks, and Eddie cleaning up the mess that the pool table had become. It was 1:00 AM and if everyone did their part, you’d be out of here by at least 1:30. Tensions had been high all night, one inconvenience after another occurring, only adding onto everyone’s stress and only giving more incentive to clean quicker and go home. A broken glass here, a messed up order there.

The kitchen door is just in reach and when you push into it with your shoulder, all of your calculations fail, the pile of plates collapsing as they hit the door frame rather than dodging it like you intended. Each plate crashes against the floor, shattering into pieces, a few of the cups also breaking on impact. It was the icing on the cake of a bad night, the final straw and your reason to burst into tears and yet you don’t.

Not yet.

Not here.

A total of four eyeballs watch in shock, two more joining in as Randy, the cook peeks out from the kitchen door. Though the tears didn’t burst from your eyes quite yet, they did sting, they stung horribly. You could feel them brimming at your waterline, just a centimeter away from trickling down your cheek and exposing you as the biggest crybaby in the world. If it wasn’t already apparent.

Do not cry.

And if it wasn’t already bad enough, Eddie seemed to completely reverse his gentle attitude you’d become suddenly accustomed to earlier.

“What the hell.” He glares, slowly approaching as he sets a few glasses back down on the pool table. “Do you watch where you’re going? Do you have eyes?” He asks.

You don’t dare answer, frozen in place as your nerves tingle in panic once again. You don’t feel real. You feel as if your spirit has risen from your body and is watching over the conversation playing out.

“Now I’m out what–ten or so plates? Do you know what it costs–”

“Eddie.” Jett tries to take control of the situation, taking notice of your watering eyes. And unfortunately so does Eddie.

“What–oh, you’re gonna cry? What did I tell you? I told you this job wasn’t for someone like you.” Eddie snaps.

He was bitter, unpleasantly bitter like a shitty cup of coffee.

“Eddie, stop it.” Jett tries to defend you, though you wish you could defend yourself so you didn’t seem so pathetic.

“I told you I can’t babysit you–”

“I know.” You manage to quietly sob, bending down to start collecting the broken pieces. There’s an awkward moment of silence, the air thick with tension and anticipation of more insults. All you can do is wait.

“Just leave it, just–leave it.” Eddie sighs, running a hand through his bangs. “Just go home.”

The demand isn’t necessarily an insult like you’d imagined but it still feels backhanded. Like he was telling you ‘I told you so’ and rubbing it in your face. As if he gave you a chance with the means of preparing for this moment, the moment you fucked up even slightly.

“I’m gonna get the broom.” Jett says, eyes wide as he scampers to the back.

Staring up at Eddie, large pieces of plate collected in your hand, all you can make out in his eyes is outrage. Downplayed outrage that hadn’t fully escaped yet and you didn’t want to hang around long enough to witness it. He was capable of much more than he was letting on.

“If you can’t handle–”

“You know Eddie, you’re just mean. You’re being mean.” You declare through a frown, internally screaming at yourself to keep it together, to not let a tear spill over. He didn’t deserve the satisfaction of watching you cry.

“Did you know you never even asked for my name?” You swipe underneath your eyes, catching any tears that longed to trail down your cheeks, displaying your distress, instead wiping them on your apron.

His unkind stare lets up, eyes softening ever so slightly.

Too late.

“I’m not a person to you.” You drop the shards from your hands, standing up to head toward the back for your things.

“Wait–”

If he kept talking, you didn’t stick around to hear it. You scooped up your bag from the rusting lockers toward the back of the kitchen, tucked away in a corner before striding to the front, toward the bar. If he thought you were some kind of an entitled brat that needed babysitting then you were going to give him more than he bargained for. Granted, you weren’t thinking straight either, the stress of the night only adding up and creating an outburst you would otherwise bottle up.

Grabbing a shot glass from under the bar, you reach for one of the nicer tequilas, something smoother that wouldn’t burn as much. Tequila always put you in a good mood and never gave you a hangover. Filling the shot glass, you don’t even bother looking over at Eddie or Jett, who was now sweeping broken plates into a dustpan.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Eddie hurries over, staring you down. All you offer him in response is a shrug before tossing the liquor back.

Refilling the glass, you sneak a glance over at him from across the counter, his jaw dropped in shock and his face red and flushed with anger. Steam was nearly shooting out of his ears. The second shot is thrown back and your muscles begin to relax, anxieties melting away even at the basis of creating more problems.

If that wasn’t enough for him, you finished it off with a third shot, hoping it wouldn’t be too much all at once. You were brave enough to look right into his eyes, daring him to say the wrong thing.

“What are you doing?” He asks again, calmer but still heated.

“I’m just acting how you think I should.” You answer, a fake smile painted across your lips.

“I’m not comping those.”

His focus burns into you, lips in a tight line as he watches. If looks could kill. For the second time that night. Except this time, you were on the receiving end and had you not been three shots in, it would’ve terrified you and had you apologizing profusely.

“Well, I’m not paying for them.” You say, pouring yourself one more for good measure, swallowing it like it was water.

As you go to make your big exit, you’re faced with a harsh reality. You’re definitely drunk, or at least very close to being drunk as the alcohol consumes your body, and you’re definitely not driving home like this. You did not think this through. But you kept walking anyway through the kitchen and out to the back just to lean against the concrete wall pathetically. You were starting to wish that you’d gulped down some water before leaving to aid in sobering up.

If the sight of you leaning against the wall behind a bar at 1:12 AM wasn’t sad enough, tack on the fact that you had finally let the waterworks flow, your drunk self especially susceptible to your muddled emotions.

“Bambi, what the fuck. You gonna drive?” Eddie emerges from the kitchen door leading outside, seemingly cooled down but you still don’t trust it.

“Don’t call ‘m Bambi.” You slur.

“What are you doing out here?” He ignores your protest.

“‘Jus gimme a few minutes.” You whine, eyes shut as if it would make him disappear.

“No, not a few minutes. You’re not driving.”

You never intended on driving but you were finding it difficult to fight him off in your discombobulated state, willing to say anything to get him to leave. Obviously he had the upper hand at this moment, clearly able to outsmart you.

“I know.” You wail, tears on full display for him.

“I’ll drive you, let me get my keys.”

“Nooo, wha ‘bout Jett?” You ask, wiping away your tears, mascara coating your fingertips.

“Jett doesn't live right next door to you, you’d just be making him go out of his way for no reason.”

Snot dripping from your nose, you glare up at him, earning an expectant stare from him. All you can do is roll your eyes, too drunk to care anymore. You still preferred having Jett go out of his way, at least he respected you as a person. But the argument was lost among gargled thoughts and a short term memory.

“Still mean.” You insult, finger poking at his chest harshly. It doesn’t do much.

It feels like hours that you two are staring at each other, likely due to the alcohol running through your system. He hesitates in running back inside, even if just for a few seconds to grab his keys, his eyes looking you over in concern. A muttered ‘be right back’ is heard and then he’s gone.

The stars catch your attention, drastically brighter than they would be back home, many more of them too. A few stand out, gleaming in the sky and making them that much more admirable. Your mind drifts off to thoughts of the Milky Way, swirling around the universe and ultimately making you feel infinitely smaller and more insignificant.

What was your place?

Eddie steps back out, keys twirling around his fingers, straight-faced, not an ounce of amusement in his handsome features. Glancing at him briefly, you then tilt your head back up toward the sky, dazed and almost in a trance. If you weren’t careful, you could’ve been staring at him like that. But you weren’t that drunk.

Or so you thought.

Thinking about it, you must have been the spitting image of insane; mascara smeared across your face, tears glimmering in the moonlight, and your bottom lip set in a perfect pout like a child waiting to get their way. Your bag was twisted around your body in the most uncomfortable way but you couldn’t find it in you to untwist it and realistically, you should be wearing your jacket but instead its clutched in your fist, the cold pricking at your skin and eliciting goosebumps up and down your arms. The chattering of your teeth interrupted the silence and played as the soundtrack of your hazy daydreaming.

It also let Eddie know that he needed to either force you to put your jacket on, or get you in the car. And he knew he wouldn’t win that first battle so ushering you to the passenger seat it was.

“C’mon.” Is all he says, huffing out a breath.

You vaguely recall being helped into the passenger’s side but you don’t remember walking a few yards to actually reach the car or if you were even able to do so on your own. From what you could tell in your state, his car was a beaten up thing, kinda old but it smelled like those little pine tree air fresheners.

Once the scenery outside started to move, all thoughts subsided, the only one left was solely to keep yourself from vomiting all over your boss’s car. You would stoop as low as to drink his most expensive tequila but vomiting all over his carpeted floor was another low you wouldn’t dream of wishing upon anybody.

Trees zoomed by and you were sure you were going cross eyed from trying to keep up with each and every one. Some metal song plays through the speakers but in your own little world, you hardly hear it, still subconsciously bobbing your head to the fading beat.

One minute you were sitting content in your dream land, the next Eddie was shoving something into your hands while urgently pulling over. Your mind hadn’t caught up to what was happening yet however, you could vaguely make out Eddie yelling at you to aim for the bag while you stared directly into said bag. When you glanced over at him, everything felt as if it were in slow motion and again, he was panicking while yelling at you to ‘puke in the bag!’.

The perfect cocktail of a situation for an individual so reserved and so inexperienced with this much attention. At least most of it would be a blur by morning.

–

“There you go, just grab my–shoulder! Ow!” Eddie complains, your fingers a bit too comfortable with digging into his skin through his cotton shirt as you attempt to hoist yourself up into a standing position from the passenger seat.

Home was only steps away and then you could collapse wherever you pleased. Forget about this stupid night. At least until you awakened as your regularly anxious self. You’d have a few hours of drunken bliss to forget about life but that’s all you were allowed. Then you would need to face your consequences, whatever they may be. Come the morning, you most likely wouldn’t have a job anymore, Eddie would probably come knocking at your door and let you know that you blew it. And he’d probably laugh in your face at the fact that you proved yourself to be too weak, too dainty, as he so adamantly proclaimed before.

“Oh no.” You mumble, feeling yourself wobbling, knees giving out underneath you.

“Whoa, whoa, okay! You’re fine, you’re fine.” Eddie stabilizes you, arms around your waist.

Your limbs might as well be Jello at this point, rendering you a useless human unable to even stumble to your destination. It dawns on you that you can’t remember if you even actually puked in the car or not. Was it coating his interior or had you shoved your head in the bag just in time to spew your guts? Or did you bravely swallow it down? Whatever the case, Eddie doesn’t seem to currently have any grievances or any trouble touching you so you must have been somewhat responsible about it.

Your weight depends on him, leaning into his chest as he practically carries you toward the house. Your eyes flutter repeatedly and—your question of whether you had already puked or not is quickly answered as the contents of your stomach spill out and onto his shirt before you’re able to aim for the ground. Humiliation was starting to look like your middle name.

As you dry heave and allow a long string of saliva to drip from your mouth while hunched over in the dirt, you hear Eddie muttering several curses. You think for sure he’s going to ditch you for creating such a stir up throughout the night until his boots come into view in front of you, his hand pulling the hair away from your face as you finish emptying your stomach.

“Okay.” He sighs. “Puke it out.” A hesitant hand smoothes over your back, the lightest touch.

The smell of putrid vomit invades his nose, nausea threatening to take over him as well if he didn’t hold his breath. Try as he may to ignore the chunks of god knows what on his shirt, it was still all that was on his mind. He didn’t even want to chance looking down if there was the slightest possibility that it had also gotten in his hair. Even being covered in your sick, he knows he should be fuming. But he’s not and it's all so puzzling.

You marched your ass behind his bar and consumed more tequila than you could handle which in turn forced him to drive you home and then you vomited all over him. If that’s not enough reason to be pissed beyond belief then he doesn’t know what is. Yet he remains calm and collected, running his hand between your shoulder blades as he soothes you throughout your dry heaving and gagging.

“It won’t–oh god–it won’t stop.” You sob, looking up at him, a mixture of snot, tears, and saliva coating the lower half of your face.

You look repulsive and yet he can’t tear his eyes away from you. The prettiest definition of repulsive he’d ever seen.

“Don’t hold it back, let it all out. You’re only gonna feel like shit if you hold any of it in.” He instructs, kneeling down to meet your eye level.

With a few sniffles and hiccups, you nod. Only now you’re hyper aware of being watched. It was a sobering experience, puking right in front of your house, not able to even make it to the nearest toilet while your boss spectates and–oh.

It hits you that the front of his shirt is caked in your puke, bile soaking the fabric while remnants of your late lunch displays itself on his perfect black shirt. You would never live this down and you would certainly never work another shift at The Bourbon again. Even if he did scream at you for no good reason, you took it a few levels too far.

“Y-your shirt, oh no–”

“Relax, okay, Bambi? I can handle a little puke, now where’s your key?” He asks.

It’s not that he could handle a little puke, he had to. Because what good would it do if the two of you were both throwing up in your front yard?

Attempting to answer him, the rest of your stomach interrupts and unexpectedly spews all over his combat boots. As if the night couldn’t get any worse.

“Shit.” He mutters under his breath.

“‘M sorry, ‘m so sorry.” You whimper, glassy eyes staring up at him with regret. “I din’t mean it, I swear, m’ just–”

“I know.” Eddie exhales. “You done puking, is there anything else left in there?”

Shaking your head in sorrow, a few more hiccups escape your lungs but there are no further signs that you’re going to be sick again. Even if you were, it didn’t matter anymore, Eddie was already well acquainted with your vomit, what harm would a little more do at this point?

As you start shuffling through your bag and patting at your pockets, panic settles in and you can only recall that the last place you’d seen your keys was at the bar, where you set them down to spitefully gulp down as much tequila as you could. Now it was biting you in the ass, hard.

“Left my keys at the bar.” You pout pitifully.

Eddie glares at you, rightfully so. The man was covered in foul smelling vomit, kneeling on the ground, taking care of you.

“Fucking christ.” He mumbles.

~end~

Masterlist

Prev | Next

tags - @gravedigginbbydoll @ohauggieo @spicysix @lunatictardis @ali-r3n @batkin028 @mrsjellymunson @witchwolflea @emma77645 @emxxblog @eddiemunson95 @angietherose @lottie-90 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @pullingattheroots @avalon-wolf @vintagehellfire @cryingglightningg @foreveranexpatsposts @winchester-angel @mmunson86 @witchwolflea @kurdtbean@micheledawn1975 @tlclick73 @erinekc @hazydespair @whenshelanded @corrodedcoffincumslut @ms1oftheboys @lma1986 @uglypastels

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson au #stranger things au #stranger things fic #stranger things

233 notes · View notes