#this will be coming to an ao3 near you as soon as i get it betaed

[rookie98writes]

How Could You? —Chapter 3—

Part of the For Your Own Good Series Prev Chapter → Next Work

Relationship: Hatake Kakashi x fem!Reader

Rating: General

Warnings: the angst continues! canon rewrite. self-ship coded; please see author's note on series page if you are unfamiliar with plot-significant characteristics of reader.

Word Count: 4.4k

Work Summary: After waking from Itachi's Mangekyo Sharingan attack, Kakashi finds there is still a lot of work to do; in rebuilding the village, restoring trust within his team, and in being honest with you. But will his efforts strengthen those bonds, or will everything only get worse?

AO3 Link

After a few more well-wishes to Naruto for a quick recovery, you made a half-hearted excuse to take your leave. You just didn’t feel like you belonged there. Sakura had left after telling Naruto her intentions to come along in the future, and Lady Tsunade started looking over Naruto’s chart and giving him updates on the others from the mission, while he and Shikamaru told each other highlights of the fights they both endured after being separated. But they were all…smiling. Naruto was describing one of Orochimaru’s henchman—some guy who used his own bones as weapons—and he was smiling. Laughing. Joking.

He had been on the brink of death a few times from the sound of it. But he only smiled and became more resolute. Same with Sakura, and even Shikamaru. It just didn’t seem right. You’d always known that shinobi were essential for the safety of the village, but for these kids to be reacting like this? And then Kakashi’s complete dismissal of you was the cherry on top.

You ended up wandering the village. You didn’t think your father or Ayame would be of any comfort. Neither of them would be able to actually be able to offer any insight, or probably even understand where you were coming from. You tried to see Iruka, but he was out on a mission since the village was still overworked. Most likely, Shikamaru would be given another assignment soon, considering his injuries were minor. Kakashi might have already been sent back out if Shizune had been able to find him.

You were nearing the big tree in the village center when you heard someone shout.

“Y/N!” Gai ran over to you.

“Oh, hello Gai.”

“I just returned from a mission, and I was just about to get some delicious dumplings! Please, come join me! It will be my treat!”

“Oh…I’m not sure I’m such good company right now.”

“Nonsense! You're better company than anyone! Please, I insist.”

And insist, he did. While you knew that Gai would be the absolute last person to ever force you into a situation you weren’t comfortable with, he linked his arm with yours and led you toward the dumpling stand with so much speed, you were tripping over your own feet. But this might be the best option you hadn’t considered. With Iruka’s absence and Kakashi’s evasion, Gai would probably be a uniquely perfect sympathetic ear.

The restaurant wasn’t too crowded when you arrived, and Gai continued herding you until you sat down at a booth in the back corner. The man looked completely in his element, greeting both the waitress and chef by name and placing an intimidatingly large order without even glancing at the menu. You were about to skim through to find something befitting your ruined appetite, but the taijutsu master plucked your menu from your hands and gave it to the waitress without a thought.

“Don’t worry,” he smiled. “Those combination platters I ordered cover every single type they serve here! Today, we feast!”

His enthusiasm was pretty infectious. As heavily as everything was still weighing on your mind, you couldn’t help but smile along with Gai while the waitress came by and gave you each a glass of water and a tea.

“Ah, there’s that springtime smile!” Gai took a full sip of his beverage before slamming it down on the table with his standard level of gusto. “Now, Y/N, tell me. Why would you ever say you aren’t good company?”

“Well,” you started tentatively, using one finger to draw a meaningless pattern in the condensation on your glass and avoiding eye contact. “Kakashi and I kind of had a fight.”

“Ah, Kakashi,” Gai sighed. “Sometimes my rival’s blood runs too hot for his own good.”

“It’s a little more complicated than that.” You took a sip of tea to collect your thoughts. It wasn’t easy to summarize everything that had happened, since Gai didn’t even really know the entirety of the mission to recover Sasuke. But you did the best you could, starting with Sasuke leaving in the middle of the night and all the events that happened as a result: the five-man recovery squad, Kakashi running after them, the state of everyone when they finally made it back to the village.

Gai’s order started coming out of the kitchen, but the man didn’t take his attention off you as you got to the immediate issue: Kakashi suddenly turning ice-cold, telling you all those heart-breaking things. You couldn’t maintain eye contact, but the array of dumplings was a great distraction. Turned out, you were hungrier than you realized, the smells of the food making your mouth water as you spoke.

“Eat something,” Gai encouraged you, “please.”

You smiled gratefully and gathered a few different types on your plate. “Thank you, Gai.”

“Anything for my rival’s beautiful and passionate girlfriend,” he beamed and popped a dumpling in his mouth. His face went through a range of emotion; bliss at the flavor of the food, then empathetic as he remembered what you’d been saying. He swallowed the full bite heavily. “I know how Kakashi can be,” he started. “Please, allow me to apologize for his actions!”

You shook your head. “I’m not upset with him; I’m worried about him,” you explained. “He’s blaming himself for what happened with Naruto and Sasuke. He acted like he had just abandoned them, when nothing could be further from the truth.”

“He has always put the full pressure on himself,” Gai agreed, “even when we were children.”

“I just hate how hard it is on everyone.” You ate another dumpling to try and squash the despair rising in your chest, but it wasn’t quite enough. “I saw Naruto before I left the hospital. And he’s just so determined to go back out there after Sasuke as soon as he’s healed. He’s so upset with himself, that he couldn’t get Sasuke to come home. And those other boys who went with him. Shikamaru is upset that his mission failed, and Sakura is a wreck even though she’s trying to hide it. And Kakashi…”

“He lashed out,” Gai nodded solemnly, a knowing look in his eye like he had been in your shoes many times.

“He said I have no idea what it means to be a shinobi, and after seeing those kids, I’m starting to wonder if he’s right.”

Gai sat thoughtfully for a minute, taking a sip of his tea before he stared at you meaningfully. “It’s true that Kakashi is right more often than he’s wrong,” Gai grinned. “But in this case, he’s undeniably mistaken. With your compassion, you have everything it takes to understand what it means to be a shinobi.” His look was just as compassionate as he claimed you to be. “Kakashi will realize that soon. Otherwise, people will start to say that I’m the smart one.”

You laughed despite yourself, finally feeling the weight lift from your heart. “I love him so much. And I don’t know how to help him. He says he wants to be alone and I can understand that but…I don’t want him to think that he really is alone, you know?”

Tears gathered in Gai’s eyes as he beamed a giant smile in your direction. “So beautiful,” he wailed, the tears beginning to fall and soak into the dumplings on his plate. “Kakashi is so lucky to have you, someone who cares so deeply for him and understands him. I truly believe that you are the perfect match for him.” He snatched you into a tight hug and you could feel the river of grateful tears flooding your shoulder.

His outburst distracted the majority of the restaurant, and even though they weren’t particularly busy, you felt heat in your cheeks as you noticed all the attention on you. “Th-thanks Gai,” you stuttered.

Gai leaned off of you, looking slightly chagrined. “I apologize. It just fills my heart with so much happiness to see how passionately you feel for my best friend and eternal rival!”

You couldn’t help but smile at the exuberant shinobi. Even Kakashi’s detached tone as he spoke of his friend couldn’t disguise the effect that Gai had on him or the fondness they had for one another. You had to admit that it moved you.

“Well, I’m just glad he’s had you all this time.”

Fresh tears welled in Gai’s eyes, but he forced them back. “Like I said, I know how Kakashi can be. But that just means I also know why he can be like that. And I have seen so many people give up on him.” He put his hand on your shoulder, absolutely beaming at you. “It makes me very happy that you are different.”

He ate another dumpling and you smiled. “Thanks for bringing me here, Gai. You and I should spend more time together.”

“ABSOLUTELY!” he pulled you into another hug, nearly knocking the wind from your chest as you laughed.

The rest of the meal just continued to lift your spirits, you and Gai sharing easy conversation and funny stories with one another as more and more of the feast of dumplings disappeared. You shouldn’t have been surprised, but Gai attacked the platters with the same level of enthusiasm as he did everything. Before long, you were both reaching your limits (although you suspected he would happily eat twice as much if this were one of his rival contests).

Gai excused himself to take care of the bill, waving away your offer of ryō so quickly you were worried his wrist might snap. As you waited for him to return to the table, you overheard the conversation of two men sitting a few tables down.

“Did you hear?” one asked his friend. “Sasuke Uchiha abandoned the village to join up with Orochimaru. And that kid Naruto nearly died trying to bring him back!”

Your posture stiffened at their topic. The man spoke so casually, it churned the partially-digested dumplings in your stomach.

“Man, I get that they don’t have any parents, but someone oughta take responsibility for them. Don’t they have a sensei or something?” the friend responded.

The guy scoffed. “Hatake?”

“Hmph, that explains it. Cold-Blooded Kakashi strikes again.”

“Ha, he ran out of friends, so now instead of Friend-Killer, I guess he’s Kid-Killer Kakashi!”

“HEY.” The exclamation was out of your throat before you even had a chance to think about it. But you wouldn’t have taken it back even if you had the chance.

The men both looked unimpressed by your interruption. “What?”

“Don’t talk about him like that.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Kakashi Hatake. You don’t know him at all. So get his name out of your mouths.”

The men shared an amused look, like they were speaking to a child. “Excuse me?” the first man asked, turning back to you and resting his chin on his palm.

“Kakashi isn’t cold-blooded. He was out of the village on a mission when Orochimaru lured Sasuke out of the village, and Naruto was gone before Kakashi got back. But he didn’t waste a second before going after them, even though he had just been through hell. So how dare you talk about him like that? Just who the hell do you think you are?!”

“Us?” the guy laughed. “Who’re you, Hatake’s cheerleader?”

“I said…get his name out of your disgusting mouth.”

“Hey now, what gives you the right to make assumptions about my mouth?” the man sneered, leaning closer and meeting your challenge. “You haven’t been properly acquainted with it.”

“That’s enough!” Gai bellowed, appearing out of nowhere and diving between you and the man to create a human barrier. “Y/N, you don’t have to listen to this.”

“Now hold on, she and I were having a conversation. I’m just dying to know why someone like her would bother defending that worthless—"

You launched yourself at the man before you even considered the consequences. Thankfully, Gai’s superhuman reflexes caught you before you were able to make any contact and likely hurt only yourself. And even better, you surprised both of the jerks enough that they finally shut up.

Gai set you back on your feet and gave you a quick look to either warn or ask you not to try something like that again. It really shocked you how quickly Gai could switch from carefree to serious without losing a hint of credibility. Quickly coming back to your senses, you folded your hands behind your back and looked at the floor.

“Now,” Gai began, looking back at the men at the table. “Simply apologize to my friend, and we’ll be on our way.”

“Why should I apologize?” the man scoffed. “She’s the one who jumped into our conversation, then got all hysterical. The way I see it, she oughta apologize.”

Like hell I’ll apologize. Gai must have felt the way you bristled behind him, reaching back and placing his hand on your arm to ground you. “Don’t worry about these guys, Y/N. They aren’t worth it. Let’s go.”

He waited to allow you to leave first, keeping himself between you and those assholes in case either side started up again. The men must have realized who they were dealing with and decided to leave well enough alone, keeping quiet. You did offer the workers of the restaurant a genuine apology as you passed them, but they waved it away as though you hadn’t caused a scene. Still, as you made your way back to the center of the village, you felt that one more apology was necessary.

“I’m sorry Gai. I should have controlled myself better back there. I’m not even really sure what came over me.”

“I know exactly what came over you,” he beamed with pride. “All of the hot-blooded feelings you have for Kakashi sent you rushing to his defense, and it was a joy to see. But to ensure your safety, I had to put a stop to it.”

“You were right to.” You smiled and hugged him. “I think I’m going to head home. Get my adrenaline back to normal. I’m not sure how shinobi keep this up all the time,” you laughed.

Gai responded with a loud guffaw and a clap on your back. “Thank you again for your company today!”

This time, you pulled him into the hug. “Thanks for everything.”

 ⁂

Obito…

Kakashi’s hair hung limp in his face as he stared at the Memorial Stone. His feet were planted in a spot so familiar, he could feel the indents of his sandals in the earth. Proof of how often he had to admit his shortcomings.

“I’m sorry, Obito.” Kakashi spoke evenly and quietly. “I’m no better of a jōnin than I was when I let you down. And now, I’ve let down the last member of your clan.” His breath hitched. “Obito, I let down everyone. I still haven’t learned how to protect my comrades. I’m still…I’m still losing them. I’ve lost my entire team. Again.”

Kakashi’s hands trembled at his sides. “I thought things would be different. I thought I could live up to what you said. I tried…I tried to teach them the same lessons you taught me. The way that Minato-sensei taught us. My students remind me so much of our team. I should have known exactly what they needed. But I failed as a sensei. I wasn’t cut out to teach them. I couldn’t even recognize that Naruto and Sasuke were on the brink of killing each other. I was…”

Naïve. Distracted. In love.

“I was happy, Obito.” The honesty opened a chasm in his chest. “I should have known it couldn’t last. But I didn’t, and it cost those kids everything.”

That. That was the crux of it.

Kakashi had made peace with the fact that you were too good for him, and his time with you would certainly not be endless. He had been prepared to be with you for as long as you wanted him. But it had gotten to the point where he needed to make that call for you. If he had accepted the truth sooner, stopped delaying the inevitable, maybe he could have prevented what happened to his team.

If he had just let you go, been less selfish, put all his focus on his students…this visit to the Memorial Stone could have been completely different.

“RIVAL!”

Not now…

Kakashi turned to see Gai walking up to him with that big, stupid smile he always had. Kakashi aimed his most withering stare at his rival, but Gai chose to take no notice, walking up as though Kakashi had invited him.

“What is it, Gai?”

“I had a feeling I would find you here, Kakashi.”

“…Is there a problem?”

“No, not at all. But I heard what happened. And I just wanted to check on you, see if there was anything I could do to help.”

Unless you know where Orochimaru is—where Sasuke is—what help could you possibly be?

“Also, I ran into Y/N in town.”

Every one of his nerves lit up at your name. “Y/N?”

“She was upset, Kakashi.” Gai softly chastised him. “I know that what you’re going through is horrible. But please, don’t take it out on her.”

I never wanted to, he mentally defended himself. But I had to.

“What’s done is done, Gai,” Kakashi answered. “It’s over between us.”

Gai seemed confused. “You…broke up with her?”

“Well, no,” he admitted. I couldn’t force myself to do it. “But I did pick a fight. And after the way I spoke to her, she would be justified in cursing my name.”

Gai started laughing. Kakashi looked at him with fury in his eye, but Gai held up a hand to beg his friend and rival to show mercy. “I’m sorry Kakashi. I don’t mean to laugh. But actually, it’s quite the opposite.”

“What?”

“When I found Y/N, I could tell she was upset, and I invited her to lunch. While we were preparing to leave, she overheard an off-color comment about you. And Kakashi, she went up to the men and responded with a white-hot youthful outrage that I didn’t think someone of her stature would be able to produce! Defending you with the passion and conviction of a woman who’s witnessed her lover hang the stars themselves!”

What the hell is she doing? Kakashi was torn. The idea that you felt strongly enough to defend him tugged his heart in all different directions. Whoever this was that you overheard, Kakashi was sure this would just be the start of it. He had understood the importance of being entrusted as the mentor to the last surviving Uchiha and the nine-tailed fox jinchūriki, and although he could think of a hundred reasons why he wasn’t fit for the job, he had agreed to the Third Hokage’s request, only to fail even more spectacularly than he could have imagined.

Soon, the entire village would be saying all the same things. He would never ask or expect you to take on that animosity. It terrified him. But more than that, it angered him. Infuriated him; that you would be subjected to such hostility—that people would direct even a small portion of that disdain toward you—because you still cared for him, despite the terrible things he had done.

Well then. The answer was simple.

If the problem was that you cared about him…he would make you stop.

“Kakashi?” Gai addressed him, pulling him from his thoughts. “What’s wrong?”

“She shouldn’t have done that,” Kakashi responded, his voice low and simmering.

“Rival, she—”

“I don’t want her to do that.”

Gai blinked a few times before softening his expression. “She loves you, Kakashi.”

“She shouldn’t do that either,” he snapped. “I don’t wa—”

“RIVAL.” Gai cut him off. “Don’t you dare say you don’t want her to love you. I won’t allow you to lie to me.”

Kakashi looked again at the memorial stone. His eye locked onto Obito’s name automatically. His old teammate, now only an etching on this monument, because of mistakes Kakashi had made and could never take back.

“I told her I love her…right before I left for that mission.”

Gai’s voice softened. “Kakashi, that’s wonderf—”

“No. It isn’t,” he argued. “Everything fell apart after that. Things I should have been able to prevent. I don’t want her to be dragged down by my mistakes.”

“Well, she—”

He faced his friend with venom in his uncovered eye. “I won’t let her.”

Kakashi ran, leaving Gai and Obito behind. He could hear Gai’s objections, but he wasn’t about to turn back and give his irresponsibly goofy friend the opportunity to try and change his mind.

He heaved a sigh of frustration. Why were you making this even more difficult than it already was? He had been an absolute jerk to you back in the hospital. He had taken your offers of help and reassurance and thrown them back in your face. When you’d heard whatever grievances the man at the dumpling shop had, you should have joined right in.

Not that the thought of you striking up a conversation with a new man didn’t turn Kakashi’s stomach inside out. His feet skidded on the ground. It had been hard enough accepting that you wouldn’t be his anymore, but he hadn’t considered that there would be nothing stopping you from giving yourself to someone else. Could he honestly stand it if he saw you hand in hand with someone new? Smiling that perfect smile at some other man?

A selfish instinct kept him perfectly still. Maybe he should change his mind. Maybe this was his chance to take it all back. He could just apologize, and you would stay by his side, offering him all your love without question. Sure, the rest of the village would still hate him. But he could keep you.

And then everyone would turn on you, as well.

No. This was the only way he could protect you, and that was what he wanted more than anything. He just hated that that meant he had to be even more cruel. It was sadistic, that protecting you meant hurting you. But it had to be done.

He couldn’t be selfish. He’d already had far more of you than he deserved to have. He would do it quickly; hurt you one last time, so he couldn’t hurt you any more in the future.

With his mind set in stone, Kakashi was able to track you down easily. You were just walking through the park, seeming a bit listless in the way you moved.

“Y/N.”

You whipped around at the sound of his voice. “Kakashi! H-hi.”

The look on your face could have broken his heart all over again. You were surprised to see him, but more than that, you looked happy. Hopeful, like you thought he had sought you out to take everything back.

And here he was, getting ready to hurt you all over again.

“I need to talk to you.”

A tremor ran through his body when he saw the soft, secure look in your eyes. You nodded and willingly stepped closer to him, blind to the fact that he was a danger to you. Like he wasn’t a threatening, cold-blooded monster.

Wordlessly, he quickly guided you to his apartment. It was close and private. Not to mention he wouldn’t invite himself into your home, especially under these pretenses.

As soon as he whisked you inside, he shut the door to block out the unnecessary hatred and negativity that nipped at his heels. He was about to create enough of that himself; he surely didn’t need help from the rest of the village. Kakashi refused to turn and look at you, frustrated by what he had to do.

“So…” You blinked a little nervously as he failed to speak. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

He sighed, letting his head fall against the door. “Gai told me what happened. In the dumpling shop.”

“Oh,” you blushed at the memory. “I—”

Abruptly, he turned to face you, cutting you off before you had a chance to continue. “Don’t do anything like that again.”

“I…I’m sorry…” you stammered, taken back by his tone. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“That’s not—” His fingers curled into tight fists before he pushed his hitai-ate up and pulled his mask to his neck. “Just…stay out of it, Y/N.”

“But…” The look on your face went firm and defensive. “Kakashi, he said that you—”

“I don’t care what he said.”

“I do care!”

“Well don’t!” he thundered. Your mouth dropped open, stunned that the two of you were falling into an argument again. “You shouldn’t have done anything, Y/N. I don’t need your help, and I don’t need your pity. So just leave it alone.”

“It isn’t pity, you—”

“Stop.” He could feel the way his stare was wearing you down. “Stop defending me, stop taking my side.” It hurt like a blade, inwardly acknowledging everything else that you would stop. Stop loving me. “Just stop.”

You held eye contact for longer than he would have expected of anyone else, but he knew just how persistent you could be. “Why?” The question escaped your mouth on a shaky exhale. “Why wouldn’t I take your side when you’ve done nothing wrong?”

Kakashi turned back to the door, hiding the pain that was threatening to show through the cracks. “That was all I had to say,” he finished, opening the door to let you walk out of his life forever.

“Kakashi…” You walked up to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He refused to turn, wishing to just block out your words. “What are you doing? Please, talk to me.”

“There’s nothing else to talk about. You should leave.”

“I know that you feel guilty for what happened to Sasuke and Naruto. And I know I can’t understand it but…can’t we just talk about it? I don’t expect to resolve everything tonight, but I don’t want to leave you like this again.”

He had to say it. It was for your own good, and you weren’t going to give him a choice. He had used all his usual tricks on you; acted as immature as the arrogant child he used to be; the reason people saw him as cold-blooded. But you were refusing to see him that way. So he looked away, and said the only thing you couldn’t misinterpret, no matter how badly he wanted you to.

“I’m telling you to leave me, Y/N. For good.”

► masterlist

#kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi angst #kakashi fanfiction #kakashi x y/n #reader insert #rookie wrote

[bougiebutchbinch]

guess

who

has finished the first chapter of the '#Izzy's uterus was fixed by the power of friendship' fic, aka the 'Omegas need to feel safe in order to present as Omegas, so Stede Bonnet comes back and makes The Revenge happy and peaceful again after the Kraken and now Izzy Hands is going into the first heat of his life at 50 and is FURIOUS about it' fic

#coming soon(ish) to an AO3 near you #probably next week because I gotta edit and I wanna get another chapter done before I upload the first one but AHHH #izzy hands #ofmd #steddyhands

[neptune-scythe]

writing a fic

me: has a good idea of how the story is going to go and the general vibe and tone of it

also me: immediately looses all control over the story and watches it become 300% darker and more brutal in just the first sentence

me:

#i thought this one was going to be very different #more sad boi vibes #more crying less murder #but no #this shit went from 0 to 100 so fucking fast #and it just keeps getting worse #hope y'all like violence and grit cuz this shit is all that and then some #grishaverse #six of crows #kaz brekker #dirtyhands #the bastard of the barrel #fanfiction #grishaverse fanfiction #six of crows fanfiction #kaz brekker fanfiction #kaz brekker pov #kaz brekker centric #coming soon to an ao3 near you

[lillywhitefield]

.

#finished ch 16 of poison tree #coming soon to an ao3 near you #just have to edit #granted that might take a while because its a chapter i don't want to get wrong even if i can't get it perfect #but you heard it here first

[sickness-health-all-that-shit]

19. What are you trying to achieve here? 😢

hiii wazo, thanks for the prompt! 💖

I meant to only write a ficlet for this, but then I got super inspired <3 and made myself very sad in the process 🥲 hope you enjoy!

It had started with Ian randomly quizzing him about some math problem or another. Mickey easily gave him the solution, promptly rolling his eyes at the genuinely impressed look on the red-headed dork’s face.

Of course, it must have actually started some time before then for Ian, since the kid never really did anything randomly. But Mickey, for his part, was completely lost on what Gallagher was doing with these questions.

At first he thought Ian just needed some help with all the dumb classes he was taking in order to get into West Point. That seemed to Mickey like a reasonable enough explanation. If he was honest with himself, he really didn’t mind Ian wanting his help with that stuff, as dumb as he thought the whole army thing was.

Or as dumb as he thought school in general was, for that matter.

But at some point Mickey had figured out that the increasingly complicated math questions had nothing to do with Ian needing to learn all about trigonometry, or whatever the fuck.

Especially since, apart from the goofy grin on the guy’s face every time Mickey gave the correct answer to a question, Ian didn’t really react in any way that could make Mickey think he had just helped Ian learn anything.

When Ian studied, he got focused as fuck. Mickey watched him when they were in the store–Ian sat at the till with his books while Mickey skimmed through a magazine, trying to stave off boredom as he waited for Ian to take a break so they could fuck in the back room or something.

It was impossible to distract Ian when he was that focused. He might ask Mickey a quick question–sporting an adorable (shut up), confused frown on his face signaling he was totally lost on whatever he had just been reading–but then he would just as rapidly go back to his books, face serious and concentrated as ever.

Eyes on the prize and all that. Determined motherfucker.

So no. This was different.

It had nothing to do with whatever Ian was studying, Mickey was sure of it.

It kind of bugged him not to know what Ian was up to, but he let it go, mostly–except for raised eyebrows and a look on his face that clearly said The fuck you playin’ at? Ian’s only response was to smile even bigger.

At the end of the day, it was just another way in which Ian could be weird sometimes. It was harmless. It was fine. Plus, Mickey liked the attention, liked to see that dumb look on Gallagher’s face. Whatever. Sue him.

Over that summer, though, at some point the goofy and impressed smiles started to come accompanied by actual spoken-out-loud compliments.

You’re really good at this stuff, Mick. Wow, I couldn’t have worked that out in a million years! And you just did that math in your head, that quick? Holy fuck, you’re a genius, Mickey were all things that were coming out of Gallagher’s mouth, as if Mickey’s world didn’t shift on its axis every time Ian said something nice about him.

He didn’t know how to react. He hated blushing, for obvious fucking reasons, but it seemed like his face was constantly intent on betraying him on that point. He forced himself not to say anything, since he found that if he tried, all that would escape his lips would be embarrassing as shit stammering.

So he mostly just ducked his head as quickly as he could and muttered a short Fuck off, Gallagher under his breath every time Ian paid him a compliment on his math skills. Or, well, anything really.

The thing was, he knew he was good at that stuff. Always was, against all odds, considering how little he had gone to school at all in the past several years. Yet he had found himself paying begrudging attention to those few math classes he attended, simply because–well, he liked that shit. He understood that shit. It came natural to him. He put it into practice almost every day, in the dealings he was involved in because of his father.

So unexpectedly, with very little book-learning to account for it, yeah. He was good at math. Really good.

Getting praise for it, though. That was fucking weird. He certainly hadn’t gotten it from his third grade math teacher–and that was probably the last time in his life Mickey tried in school. She had taken one look at him at the beginning of the year and decided he was a no-good Milkovich, pure and simple. How could someone like him possibly be worth teaching math to, even if he did seem to be unusually good with numbers?

Not that Mickey was used to being praised about anything, by anyone. Well, his mom was kind to him when he was a kid, as far as he could remember. But she was also not there most of the time, or was out of it when she was. Sweet words, and even songs, would come out of her mouth, but the look behind her eyes was vacant. She barely ever knew Mickey or any of her other kids were in the room when she was in one of those states. Which was most of the time.

No. Gallagher is without a doubt the first person to say a kind word to Mickey and mean it. There’s an earnestness in his face that cannot be denied, and that scares Mickey shitless. He doesn’t know what to do with it.

That’s why, one day, Mickey snaps.

Ian has been quizzing him on all these math problems he apparently found online–one question after the other, beaming like a little overexcited kid when Mickey quickly works out the answer, every single time.

Mickey’s starting to feel a little on edge, all the questioning making him feel a little dizzy, like he’s being interrogated by the fucking cops or something. Like so much is riding on his answers, but he’s not really sure why he should be this nervous in the first place.

It all comes to a head when Ian starts excitedly talking about how Mickey should take some advanced math classes at the local community college, should get a fucking certificate or something to attest his skills, and that could maybe in the future lead to–

“Just fucking stop!” he yells, slamming his palms on the counter in front of him. His breathing is labored, erratic. He feels on the edge of something–something scary–so he holds onto his rage instead.

“This little goddamn fantasy world you’re planning for me ain’t never gonna fuckin’ happen. I’m a Milkovich. I’m fucked for life, remember? The sooner you get that through your damn skull, the better. Who the fuck do you think you are anyway, to know what’s fucking best for me?! You’re not my fucking family, we don’t owe each other shit. What are you trying to achieve here?”

He finally stops for breath, his mouth gaping open as he sets aside his fury for a moment to take in Ian’s reaction to his tirade. Ian’s lips are pursed, his jaw tight and his shoulders rigid. But what really hits Mickey like a swift kick to the stomach is how wet and red-rimmed his eyes look.

And Mickey knows what it feels like to hold your tears at bay like that. Until it physically hurts. Until all you want to do is scream.

Mickey can’t stand the sight a minute more. He lowers his head, uses his palms to push himself away from the counter and then to shove open the door of the store, marching out of there as fast as his legs will allow him.

He feels a little wetness in his eyes. Shakes his head to try and get a fucking grip of himself. It’s fine. He’s fine.

Gallagher was annoying the fuck out of him, and he just snapped. Simple as that. Doesn’t mean anything. No need to fucking whine about it like a little bitch.

The image of Ian’s hurt expression comes rushing back to his mind’s eye with a vengeance, and Mickey wipes a frantic hand down his face. As if that’s going to do anything. As if it’s going to erase what he can’t unsee, what he can’t help feeling deep in his soul.

He’s walking down the street, no real destination in mind, his body as wild and directionless as his brain at the moment.

It’s fine. Tomorrow he’ll go back to the store, and everything will be fine. He knows he should probably apologize, but he also knows he won’t. Ian will forgive him anyway, hopefully. He’s sweet like that. Mickey just did the verbal equivalent of spitting in his face and kneeing him in the groin, but Ian will understand, eventually. He always does somehow.

Mickey hates himself. Hates his life, hates his fucking family, hates this whole goddamn existence. Hates that he wants that shit Ian was talking about, but can’t afford to want it. Hates that he can never have the things he wants.

After walking for about an hour, smoking one cigarette after another, he finds himself going into one of the abandoned buildings he and Ian have met up in a few times.

He needs a familiar, quiet place. To think. Maybe to dream a little. To daydream about a different life for a bit–one where he could have the things he wants–before going back to his real one.

He sits on the roof of the building, watching the sun set, blowing plumes of smoke towards the sky.

Mickey closes his eyes. He pictures red hair, green eyes, freckles. A blinding smile, directed at him. A soft gaze full of fondness. Big hands holding his face, long fingers carding through his hair. Strong arms squeezing him in a tight embrace.

Keeping his eyes shut, he can feel it all. This intense certainty that he can do whatever he wants in his life. Endless hope and reassurance coming from his favorite person–someone he loves completely, and who loves him in return, standing steadily at his side. The freedom to be who he is and to do what makes him truly happy.

A future where he–Mickey Milkovich, son of Terry Milkovich–is not fucked for life after all.

A world full of love and possibilities.

#ian x mickey #gallavich #gallavich fic #shameless fanfiction #my fics #angst #set in s2 #pov mickey #the fact i've written this whole thing today is astounding to me considering how little i've written in months #i've actually completed a one-shot from start to finish! yay! #this will be coming to an ao3 near you as soon as i get it betaed #for now enjoy this raw straight-out-of-my-brain-box version

[choface]

i wrote 2300 words tonight. are yall fucking ready for my first steddie fic?

#coming soon to an ao3 near you #at long fucking last #my dumb little fic #steddie beddie #i cannot believe i am making it in under my dumbass arbitrary deadline #of getting a steddie fic posted before the big bang starts #lmao miracles happen #i've been writing for four hours #looool #and for once in my life i don't have a tumblr fic post ready to go ahead of time #tomorrow's problem #sweet surrender

[tsugarubecker]

🙃

#coming soon to an ao3 near you #get hype 💕 #wip #not me reading through my own outline and going ‘damn this is rad I’d read this’ ‘…..oh shit fuck now I have to write it lol’ #byler #byler fanfic #byler fic #byler fanfiction #tw swearing

[leafatlaw]

trying to decide if I want to make a selkie au first or a coffee shop au or an arranged marriage au

#I’m not touching canon with a four foot pole #It can’t hurt me if I ignore it #This is what I get for exclusively hyperfixating on stories with sad endings #sparrow speaks #Htsc selkie au coming soon to an ao3 near you !

[notmyneighbor]

Let Me In ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader

Chapter 7

Word Count ~ 3.9k

Rating ~ Explicit

CW ~ minor mention of blood and gore, sexual content

Also available on AO3

taglist @luthien-elvenia-asher @fishfetus @gaudesstuff @nekee-lilac02 @msdevil333 @rrnrjn @maskedpacific

Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok

You are walking the yard surrounding your home in early August.

Francis Mosses’ doppelgänger is beside you, his fingers laced with yours as the pair of you leisurely stroll. You love mornings like this. Lazy weekends when you shut the rest of the world out. There is just this, this safe haven you’ve created, away from the city where the invaders seek to gain entry and conquer, where the humans continue to try to see past the lies standing right before them, the deceivers and pretenders like the one whose hand you’re clutching now so tenderly. Except he isn’t like the others; nothing like any of them. He is yours, and you are his. There is nothing else like this phenomenon, what you have with him.

The blackberry bushes lining the picket fence are heavy with fruit, the plump, deep black specimens dull skinned, ripe and ready to be plucked.

“So many of them,” the copycat murmurs, halting beside you as your pace slows and pauses, contemplating the sight of those heavily laden shrubs.

You nod. “My grandparents used to make jam from them. I can remember spreading it on pancakes on Sunday mornings.”

“Do you still recall how to make the jam?”

“Yes. It’s not difficult. Just a bit time consuming. A lot of prep work.”

“We have the whole day. Want to try?”

“Really? You want to?”

“It sounds pleasant.” He tugs you gently towards him. “Everything with you is.” His lips meet yours, warm as the summer sun heating you through the button front dress you’re wearing.

“We need something to gather them in.”

“Will this do?” He reaches for the fabric of your dress about halfway down the skirt portion, lifting the loose material until it forms a kind of scooped makeshift basket.

“That’s what my grandmother did with her apron. Yes, this will do.” You reach for the handfuls he’s gathered, keeping the improvised bowl in place. “Only pick the ones that are black. No purple or red, they’re not ripe. Nothing shiny. Only the dull ones. They should come off fairly easily. If you have to pull too much, they’re not ready.”

The imposter milkman follows your directions and the dip in the fabric you’re clutching is soon full. It is a little awkward walking up the porch steps, balancing the unfamiliar weight at your front. There are stains on his fingers, on your dress as you dump the gathered berries into the colander he grabs from the cupboard for you, followed by a mixing bowl, anything he can find to relieve you of your burden. Overzealous in the picking, perhaps, but you don’t mind. The excessive berries would just have gone to waste otherwise, more than even your wildlife neighbors could indulge in.

“You should get used to having extra weight around your middle,” he murmurs against your ear. Still persisting in the notion of having a baby with you. The previous month had ended with your menses. You’ve no idea if it’s even possible to create a new life with the doppelgänger. You’re still conflicted about it. Afraid for its life, for yours and Francis’. But you can imagine the face. As a toddler. Convinced somehow it would be a boy. Identical in every way to his father. A father as devoted to him as he is to you. The child clinging to your side, standing in those same fields near the house in summer, looking at the world around him with those dark eyes that are unshadowed, not yet tired like his parent’s. Soft brown hair. Human, because you won’t let yourself imagine anything else; refuse to concede that it would be part doppel as well. “I can’t wait,” he says, his arms enfolding you from behind, your hands settling on his, the quartet all resting over your abdomen.

You smile, leaning your weight against his chest for a few moments before reaching for the faucet. It was time to rinse the harvest, removing the stray leaf or stem here and there. You fill a pan with water to boil to sterilize the lids of the mason jars. There are a set of them under the sink. The glass portion needs to be similarly treated. It will be hot in the kitchen with the stovetop working so hard. You lean and lift the window behind the sink a little higher, hoping for any sign of a breeze.

“Go pick out a record to play.” A new tradition. You let your lover choose the music, discovering what he likes best. Perhaps some of Francis’ favorites. Some for the invader alone. You cherish both selections equally.

The man and the doppel themselves; that is something your conscience has struggled with for many weeks now. You think you will always love Francis. But you love the new creature inhabiting his form, too. More and more with each passing day.

The music begins and you smile to yourself. Al Bowlly. Something from two decades ago, but a timeless classic. One of the records your mother had left behind when she’d moved to the city, inherited from your grandparents. You were long overdue for a visit to your mother and father. You’d received a letter not that long ago. Still safe. It was a worry that gnawed at you. One of the reasons you’d joined the DDD in the first place. Wanting to protect your family, the people you love.

The very thought of you and I forget to do

The little ordinary things that everyone ought to do

You spread a tea towel on the counter. The jars will air dry there after you’ve finished preparing them.

I'm living in a kind of daydream and I'm happy as a king

And foolish though it may seem, why to me that's everything

“How am I meant to not want to dance with you when this is playing?” Your partner’s lips graze the nape of your neck softly, his hands on your waist.

The mere idea of you, the longing here for you

You'll never know how slow the moments go till I'm near to you

You smile again. A gesture that comes so easily when the imposter is around you. “After. You wanted to make jam, remember?”

“I want to make a lot of things,” he murmurs beside your cheek, his nose nudging aside a stray piece of hair that’s come free from where you’d pinned it up, mouth now on the patch of skin he’s cleared.

“Francis!” You giggle, playfully squirming in his arms. You aren’t really trying to get away. “I need your help. Use those muscles of yours and pulverize the berries. The potato masher is in the second drawer there.”

I see your face in every flower, your eyes in stars above

It's just the thought of you, the very thought of you, my love

He rolls up his sleeves, beginning to crush the fruit while you gather the measuring cups and sugar.

“I know it’s equal parts berries and sugar. Three minutes to boil? And then another three after the sugar’s been added. Oh, I need the whisk, too. And one of the larger spoons to stir. Yes, that one, thank you.” Francis’ copy hands you the culinary tools you’re searching for, retrieved from the same drawer the masher had been in.

Speaking of which, he’s done a great job with the blackberries, making short work of them. For a brief second your mind teases an imagining of something far less pleasant being ground down like that, pulped human flesh, the gore that is left behind when a doppel feasts on a human. Your grip on the spoon tightens until it’s white knuckled and you force yourself to relax. You’re with him, the one that you love, that adores you. Your home. With the beautiful crooned words of longing issuing from the turntable in the background. Those horrors do not exist here. “Those look perfect. I think that’s maybe around six cups’ worth. But we’ll measure.”

Your estimate of the mixture volume proves fairly accurate. You begin stirring the berries in the stainless steel cook pot, watching the seeded dark red mixture begin to bubble, keeping an eye on the clock on the wall. The doppel is at the sink, already washing the used bowls and tools.

It’s time to add the sugar. You stir it in, once again timing your task, finally deeming the developing jam ready to be removed from the heat of the burner, switching the knob for the pilot light off as you move the pot to an unused burner.

You can feel the perspiration beading on your forehead as you whisk the heated fledgling fruit spread. Nearly there. Your strokes with the thin wired tool were releasing the natural pectin in the berries now. After that it was just a matter of filling and sealing the jars.

“What’s next? What can I do to help?” The doppelgänger asks, resting a hand on your lower back, where the heat lingers, making the dress cling damply to your skin.

“I think this is actually just about ready to start pouring.”

He turns over the mason jars that had been resting upside down over the tea towel to air dry, lining them up on the counter. You transfer small batches of the jam to a batter bowl, making it easier to fill each jar without spilling. A lot of dishes being used for this. Funny how you didn’t remember that part from childhood. Just the fun of making it with your grandmother.

The replicant screws the last of the lids on. The jam looks so inviting. You can’t wait to spread it on some toast with some butter after it’s had a day or two to set. Maybe just one day. You were really craving it now.

“It’s hot,” the imposter says, dragging a hand across his forehead. “I’m ready to head back into the tub after that.”

You like the idea of that yourself. “You should.”

“Coming with me?”

“I was hoping for an invitation.”

He kisses you and you taste the salt of his perspiration. “You look a little flushed. We definitely need to go cool down. And then heat up again.”

“Francis, you’re impossible. Go get the water running. I’ll finish cleaning up here.”

“It’ll be faster with both of us working together.”

You won’t argue with that, allowing him to assist you. Munching on some leftover blackberries as you work side by side. The last of the dishes done. Everything put away. Shutting off the record player on your way to the stairs. His hands work on the buttons of your dress after you’ve turned on the faucet to fill the tub. You loosen his belt. Shove the hem of his undershirt upward after he’s removed the outer layer. He reaches between his shoulders and pulls it free. You kiss the dip between his pectoral muscles lightly covered with dark hair. Suddenly finding yourself hungry for him.

“Should we wait on the bath for after?” he suggests.

“Yes. Definitely.” You switch the faucet off hurriedly, turning your attention back to him. He’s already entering the bedroom. The temperature in this room is hotter than it had been in the kitchen. No fresh breeze coming in through either of the windows. Just that stifling humidity. It needed to rain.

Undergarments removed. He kisses your bare shoulder, humming the song that had been playing the previous evening, when he’d met you at your front door, the start of your weekend together.

Blue Moon, you saw me standing alone

Without a dream in my heart

Without a love of my own

You sit down on the edge of the bed. A hand rests on your thigh as he kneels down. Fingers stained from some of the berry juice, garnet and magenta smudges along cuticles and nail beds. Your hand sinks into the hair you’d trimmed recently, finding it’s already growing long again. You bend to kiss his mouth and he tastes like the fruit, like summer itself, warm and fresh and sweet.

He leans to kiss the breasts that will one day bear the nutrition to feed your child, if it was ever meant to be, sucking gently, each nipple responding to that sensation, rising and hardening, the melody of that love song still emerging all the while.

Blue Moon, you knew just what I was there for

You heard me saying a prayer for

Someone I really could care for

Then he is between your thighs, every kiss still languid, drowsy, a leisurely summer afternoon gifted in each touch of his lips on your skin. Caressing your legs, the limbs that part to receive him. Gentle kisses on those nether lips, still humming, sending little vibrations into your body.

And then there suddenly appeared before me

The only one my arms will ever hold

I heard somebody whisper, "Please adore me"

And when I looked, the moon had turned to gold

His tongue strokes your clit and you lean back slightly, hands sinking into the mattress, arms braced to either side. His hands curl around your thighs and he sups at your sex, the pace still unhurried, easing you along into pleasure. Delving into your entrance, rolling the taste of you on his tongue before sweeping through the petals back to your bud, massaging it from side to side, up and down, pausing every now and again to plant a kiss on your mound or thigh, suckling the bundle of nerve endings and then dipping back into your canal in short, gentle little thrusts, the tune nearing its end, reaching the final verses, but yours have just started, that thrumming he sends through you, deep inside, an echoing response in your core.

Blue Moon, now I'm no longer alone

Without a dream in my heart

Without a love of my own

You let your weight rest on one hand so you can touch his hair again, meet the gaze of those dark eyes watching you, those depthless pools of desire you get lost in, drowning, a tide that washes you away into your release against his mouth.

You're sweating profusely now, damp inside and out as you scoot yourself back to the center of the bed, making room for your companion to join you.

There is always the little surprised sounding moan when he first enters you, as if he’s forgotten that feeling, rediscovering it each time his cock pierces your pussy. His hips roll against you in slow, lazy thrusts. He combs your damp hair back from your face, hair that has completely fallen loose, natural. He kisses your forehead and cheeks and lips, your jaw and throat and ear lobes.

“I love you,” he breathes against your neck. His voice sounds raw, full of emotion.

“I love you, Francis.” You grind up against his damp body.

His face hovers above yours. “Marry me.” You gasp as he grabs one of your thighs and rocks forward, pushing deep inside of you. “Marry me, be my wife. Stay with me always.”

Your heart pounds. To be joined with him like that. The mark on your arm only a faint pink line now. The traces of the bite completely disappeared. He wanted to put a ring on your finger. Everyone would know, then. There would be no concealing it.

“Be the mother of my children. Be mine forever.”

“Francis…”

“Please.”

“Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

“I’ll do anything to make you happy.”

“I am happy. Happier than I’ve ever been. I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you,” you add softly.

A heavy sigh as his body moves against yours, his face tucked into the crook of your neck. “My love, my only, mine.” His pelvis knocks against yours faster now. Your knees tightly embrace his ribs. Every part of skin your lips touch taste of salt. His hair is darker, saturated with sweat, the tendrils clinging damply to his forehead. A drop slides from his nose and pools between your lips. The arms bracing his weight near your face are trembling. So close to the edge of bliss.

“Love,” he gasps.

“Yes,” you answer, and he spills into you, filling your womb with his seed.

***

You sit inside the bathtub between the doppel’s legs, resting back against his chest.

“Close your eyes,” he instructs, and you obey, hearing something being lifted from that basin of water. The wash cloth, you realize, feeling the cool liquid dripping onto you hair, sliding down over your heated face. Repeating until your hair is thoroughly drenched in the bath water, his fingers slicking back those wet tresses, smoothing over your eyes, your cheeks, curling beneath your chin and lifting your face so that he can kiss you. Your eyes open and you see him smiling. “Better?”

“Much.”

“Good.” A rumble of thunder in the distance. Finally, the rain was coming. “Will we lose the power again, do you think?”

“Maybe. Wouldn’t be so terrible, though, would it? Just being here in the dark together.”

“Not at all. I have fond memories of doing that very thing.” He kisses you again and your stroke the damp cloth over his forearms. “I am going to get you a ring, you know. Propose properly.”

“I know.” You lift his left hand and kiss it. “We should tell my parents. Visit.”

“You want me to meet them?”

“Why not? They’ll be your in laws. The grandparents of your children.”

“Hmmm,” he hums. “We will need someone to watch the little ones. When it’s time to make more…”

“How many are you planning on?”

“I don’t know. There’s no specific number. I just want it. Badly.”

“I know you do. I do, too.”

“You’re still scared.”

“Yes.”

“I won’t let anyone harm you. You, or the children. However many there are.”

“I know you’ll be a good father. A good husband.”

His arms tighten around you. “You are my perfect everything.”

***

You do not lose the power that evening.

There is light for your repast at the kitchen table. Still too soon to indulge in the fruits of your earlier labors—pun intended—and neither of you want to heat up the house again using the stove, so you have a simple meal of bread, cheese, grapes, and iced tea, listening to the storm outside, this one much calmer than the last, starting to write a letter back to your parents, beginning with the exciting news of your engagement.

“Do you think your parents will like me?”

You pop a few grapes into your mouth. “Yes. My mom is very similar in personality to me. My dad maybe a little gruffer, but he’ll soften with time. Especially when he sees how well you treat me. He’d probably like it if you asked his permission first. Just as a courtesy. A formality.”

Francis’ copy slices another piece of cheddar free from the block, taking a bite and chewing thoughtfully. “What are you going to tell them about us, exactly?”

“Just that we met while I was working. You’re a resident in the building. The truth, you know.”

“But that’s not the whole story.”

You set your pen down. “I can’t tell them what you are. You know that.”

“Of course not. I’m just…wondering what to say. Or what not to say. How to behave.”

You lift the writing utensil again but don’t use it, merely holding it between your fingers. “Just be you.”

He looks over the top of his glass as you resume writing, neat cursive script filling the page. “Don’t forget to mention how handsome I am.”

“Hush, you.” You smirk, tossing one of the crumpled rough drafts at him and he easily catches it, returning your smile.

“And that I’m a good dancer.”

“You are a great dancer,” you concede, pausing again to tear off another piece of bread.

“We didn’t get to dance earlier.”

“We sort of did.”

His eyebrows lift. “I’ve corrupted you. That’s the sort of innuendo I’d deliver.”

“Speaking of which. No talking about wanting kids when we visit with my parents, at least not yet. They’re against premarital sex. Society doesn’t favor unwed women and it certainly doesn’t favor women who are unwed and pregnant. It’s because of the war. The need to repopulate, our purpose to create more soldiers.”

“We’re engaged, though.”

“Yes. But still not married.”

“I don’t want our children fighting in a war,” he says solemnly.

“Neither do I.” You pause, hesitating midway through writing again. “We are at war already. They’ll be born into it, just by the very nature of who they are. What they are.” You sigh, setting down the pen. The letter could wait for now. You don’t like the dark look on the features of the replicant sitting across from you.

“Come on. I owe you a dance.” You rise, reaching for the doppel’s hands and he allows himself to be tugged to his feet. “Go choose a record for us, my love.”

You clear the table while he rummages through the sleeved recordings. You leave the letter where it is. You’ll finish it in the morning, drop it off on your way to work Monday. At least there was one more day of this relaxed comfort, before you had to go back to the reality of the DDD.

You join your fiancé in the living room, positioning yourself with your dance partner, smiling as you recognize the song that starts to play.

Heaven, I'm in heaven

And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak

And I seem to find the happiness I seek

When we're out together, dancing cheek to cheek

“Fred Astaire, singing to Ginger Rogers. Another classic. This song was from the musical Top Hat. A big hit on the music charts.”

The doppel is silent, his hand warm against your waist, the other clasping your hand as you step and sway in a small circle.

Heaven, I'm in heaven

And the cares that hung around me through the week

Seem to vanish like a gambler's lucky streak

When we're out together, dancing cheek to cheek

“My mom loves that movie. You’ll curry some favor if you mention it. We’ll have to watch it together. The movie house downtown plays classics on Sunday nights. I’m babbling, aren’t I?” Two more verses of the song have already passed by.

“It’s alright. I don’t mind. We should go. I’ll take you.”

“A real date.”

“Yes, a real date.”

You grin, nuzzling his jaw. “I look forward to it.”

Dance with me. I want my arms about you

The charms about you

Will carry me through to

“I like making you happy.” He draws back to look at your features. “I want your parents to like me. I know it’s important to you. It’s important to me, too.”

“They’ll love you,” you say softly. “How could they possibly not?”

“Because…”

“No.” You release his shoulder, resting a finger against his lips. “You’re mine, and I’m yours, and that’s all that matters. I love you. You, inside of this man.” Your hand cups his cheek. “I’ve been calling you Francis all along. I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s…not something you could ever pronounce. The differences in language…”

“I’ll do my best to learn.”

“Sweetheart. Call me Francis. That’s who I am now. Your Francis. Yours.” He kisses you, and you become lost in the feel of it, in the sound of the needle of the record player tapping restlessly now that the song has finished, in the lullaby of the soft patter of the rain outside.

#francis mosses #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses x you #milkman #milkman x reader #milkman x you #thats not my neighbor #doppelganger #the milkman

[ceilidho]

take me home, country road

[ao3]

prompt: 1800s price/reader…. reader flees to his town where Price is the sheriff after a murder in her previous town only to be mistaken for the mail order bride that Price just sent for ….and he’s not interested in hearing any of her excuses when she tells him that he’s got the wrong girl (part 6) part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

-

And they say if it sways, you have to cut it off at the root.

You repeat that to yourself when you catch the way you glance out the kitchen window again, surreptitiously watching John. It’s hard to pull your eyes away. He walks over to the well to fetch water for you to do the dishes, the chore you’d elected to take when he offered you the choice between that and feeding the horses. It’s a fair compromise since you balk at the thought of getting anywhere near either of those beasts. 

Watching him bend over the well to lower the bucket down, his muscled shoulders tapering to a narrow waist and suspenders drawing tight against his back, makes you bite your lip. Then scowl. Then pull the curtain shut to block out the view.

You have to cut any gentleness off at the root. 

When he comes back, you step to the side without a word to let him pour the water into the wash basin, hot water from the teakettle and lye soap making the water already in the pan sudsy. In a sense, it’s not any different from anything you’ve done back home; the same two pans for washing and scalding, the same cake of soap, and the same dish towel to dry the dishes off at the end. The only difference is the man that pours the cool water into the basin to make it more comfortable for your hands. 

“I’ll be out back,” he tells you, before grabbing you around the waist and pulling you in close to press a close-mouthed kiss to the side of your head. You only scrunch your nose a little. “When you’re done, come get me. Got business in town.”

“Why do you need me to come with you?” you ask, lips cresting into a pout without a thought. You’d never considered yourself a bellyacher, but it’s almost second nature around John. “I can…I can stay and clean the house.”

“You saying I keep a messy home?” John asks, a teasing lilt in his voice.

You look pointedly down at the dirt he tracked into the kitchen after fetching the bucket of water from the well. “It could do with a spit shine.” 

That gets a laugh out of him, a bellow from deep in his belly. It shakes you to your bones. 

“Darling, I’ll be honest with you,” he says, turning you to face him before folding his arms across his chest. “I don’t trust you not to bolt like a runaway horse, and you’ll only wind up putting yourself in danger if you try to make a run for it out here.”

That expression makes your stomach twist. “Good to know you think of your wife as some scared filly.” 

“You talk a whole lot for a woman who’s been over my knee. Do we need to repeat that?”

When his tone goes stern, you lose the wedging piece of candor keeping you upright. Eyes widen and then narrow. He’s been patient despite your loose tongue, but when that patience slips, you can see the steel underneath his gentle exterior. It’s the true root of him. 

You clam up under his stare, sullen and begrudging. Smooth your dress down to have something to do with your hands. You’ve forgotten your place again. Side-stepped it out of intimacy or misplaced trust or naivety or forgetting, again, for the umpteenth time, that the world is not a place for women that open their mouths. So you keep it shut, trap every festering word behind your teeth. 

He must not like something he sees painted on your face because his brows draw closer together, frustration brewing anew in his eyes. The longer you stay quiet, the more irritated he grows, his nostrils flaring wide. 

“See that you come get me as soon as everything’s squared away in here,” John bites out, pointing a single, blunt finger at you. “Else I’ll come get you myself.”

And we wouldn’t want that, you think, surly. You hope it swims across your eyes. Blooms on your face. Perhaps it does. 

The lines around his mouth and eyes grow more defined when he smiles. His whole mustache moves with his smile, every part of his face expressing his satisfaction. It’s beyond infuriating. He taps you on the nose with his knuckle before leaving out the backdoor, not sparing you a backward glance. You nearly shake with indignation. 

It’s hard not to watch him out in the paddock while drying the dishes though, not with him set against the gilded sun. You inch the curtain slightly open, just enough of a gap to peer through. The Stetson shadows his face when he tilts his head up towards the sky, the hard edge of his jaw the only thing that meets your gaze. It’s not the first time you’ve seen a man out in the fields or pastures, but most of those have been at a distance, removed. Glimpsed briefly through the window while your train barreled on past acres of farmland. 

John cycles through the morning tasks of guiding the horses into the paddock by a lead fixed to their halter, replenishing the food trough, and fetching more water from the well to fill the water trough. His horses are striking in the sheer size of them; muscled shoulders and legs, and well-padded flanks. Most of the horses you’ve seen out west haven’t seemed nearly as well-fed, many whittled down to rib and hip bone. 

It says something about him, but you’re not ready to confront exactly what. You turn your attention back to the dishes, scrubbing the last of the dried butter and eggs at the bottom of the pan. It takes a little extra grit, but cleaning is a familiar chore—it’s one you’ve done all your life, what got you into this mess in the first place. 

You don’t like what you find when you finally venture out of the house to track him down. 

“I’m not getting on that thing.” 

You put your veritable foot down with that, arms straight and stiff by your sides, more out of worry than annoyance. You do also give a little stomp for good measure, but you’ll chalk that up to reflexes should John inquire. 

He doesn’t. Just stares down at you with unimpressed green eyes that haunt your days and nights now. Tells you without telling you that you’ll get on that horse, willing or not. 

It’s not for a lack of beauty that you can’t quite shake the nervousness they elicit in you. Buttercup, the one that John saddled up and now waits patiently to be mounted, keeps her head low as if sensing your disquiet, curiosity glimmering in her coal black eyes. Not even the animal curiosity of is this a friend or foe, but the curiosity that comes with pure trust, almost intelligible that way. 

John runs his hand down her smooth, buttery flank. “Did you enjoy yesterday’s walk?”

“I didn’t hate it.” Truth be told, you’d hardly been of a mind to notice it at all. Though your legs still ache from the walk back to John’s house, the walk itself had not seemed especially grueling in the moment. The mind can put aside quite a bit when it has something else to focus on. 

“Well, I’m not too keen to repeat it.” He leaves it at that, tightening a strap on Buttercup’s saddle in such a purposeful way that your shoulders tense. 

“I could meet you there,” you say, a touch desperately. Your stomach turns when you think about hoisting yourself up onto Buttercup’s saddle. It doesn’t seem possible. It’s not something you’ve ever done or ever considered doing. You remember horror stories of stableboys back home trampled under their hooves and stomped to death, kicks so powerful that they could break a fully grown man’s ribs or cave in his face. 

“My wife isn’t gonna wander into town by her lonesome like some vagrant,” John says disdainfully, almost scoffing. Insulted by the whole idea. “And you’re sure as hell not staying here alone, darlin’.”

“Well, figure something else out because I am not getting up on that thin—” You cut off on a yelp when he circles around you and abruptly lifts you up. Your head rushes at the sudden motion, legs flailing beneath you. 

“Quit squirmin’ like a damn barn cat. Little hellion,” John grits out, guiding your heel into the stirrup. “C’mon, you’re just side saddling, so you only need your butt on the saddle.” When he sets you down lightly onto the saddle, you stop wiggling around, acutely aware of the thousand pound horse beneath you. “There we go—that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” 

“I hate this,” you hiss, fingers clamped tight over the pommel. 

“Aw, darlin’, don’t go insulting Buttercup like that,” John chuckles, replacing your foot in the stirrup with his own.

You sit there stiff as a board, perched precariously on the saddle as he hoists himself up behind you. His sheer proximity doesn’t register right away. You’re too concerned with the moving beast under you, its ribs expanding and contracting with each breath. Unlike you, John is more than comfortable sitting astride the horse, not a smidgeon of tension in his body. You suck in a horrified breath when you feel him readjust himself before settling down more comfortably. 

He reaches around you to grab the reins, a sharp whistle signaling the horse to take her first stride forward, looping around the side of the house. Even the slow trot threatens to buck you off at first. You lurch forward with each step, certain that you’ll slip right off the saddle and onto the dusty ground below until John loops an arm around your waist and pulls you to his chest.

You grow stiffer in his arms somehow. Despite sleeping in the same bed the night before and sharing far too many kisses for your comfort or virtue, being pressed up tight against a man never gets easier. Perhaps if you’d been married for longer than a single day you’d be more at ease with the notion, but as of yet, it comes as a shock to the senses every time. 

You carefully avoid the thought that other married women wouldn’t be still in possession of their maidenhead so many hours after their wedding night. That’s none of your business.

The two of you navigate into town at a slow canter, allowing you to gradually acclimatize to the gait of a horse. Part of you remembers riding horses when you were younger, but that was a lifetime ago, long enough to shake the memory from your muscles. These days, you can barely remember the hands holding you steady, the ones that would’ve lifted you up onto the horse and helped you back down. Those people are faceless in your memories. 

John stays silent at your back, only tightening his hand around your hip when you slip the slightest bit when Buttercup picks up the pace, heading towards the familiar sight of the sheriff’s office. It draws a quick squawk out of you, neatly masked by a fake cough. His chuckle at that rumbles through you, clearly not buying it. Another lesson in humiliation. 

You manage not to flail as much when he gets off the horse and helps you down, even though you’re still not used to being manhandled so, particularly not in front of the townsfolk milling about and glancing over with undisguised interest. 

“Are you working today?” you ask, curiosity getting the better of you while John ties Buttercup’s lead to the post outside the sheriff’s office. 

“Don’t exactly get many days off when you’re the only sheriff in the county,” John replies. “We’ve got a few deputies in every town, and a couple here, but it ain’t an easy gig.”

“How many deputies have you got here?” 

“Just the three. Simon, John, and Kyle. You met Simon the other day.” 

His name draws up the faint memory of the masked deputy from your wedding ceremony. “I remember,” you say flatly. There’s no lost love between you and anyone involved with that sham of a wedding. 

“Don’t hold that against him,” John smiles. “He’s a good ole boy. Can’t fault a man for following the boss’ orders.”

Watch me. You glance away lest he see that thought etched across your face. 

The town is bustling with activity this late in the morning. Steps and floorboards creak under the weight of boots coming and going. A man going by in a horse-and-buggy whistles sharply when he cracks the reins, his horse puffing out a low, frustrated grunt. 

Men hustle past you decked out in leather chaps and waistcoats, spats covering the half-boots of those not decked out in tall, spurred cowboy boots. There are far less women scampering about town than men, particularly not so close to the sheriff’s office, but you keep finding your eyes drawn to them. 

John grips you under the arm and swiftly pulls you back when you narrowly sidestep a mound of horse droppings left uncovered in the middle of the road. The smell only hits you a second later. 

“Well, that’s lovely,” you remark, deadpanned, putting your foot down deliberately a good distance away. 

“Wouldn’t need to complain about it if you just watched your step.”

“You know, this really would’ve been a nice day to just stay home,” you mutter, chastised enough not to say something sharp in return. 

While the smell makes your nose wrinkle, you have to admit that the air here is far less pungent than back home. In general, this bucolic town is far more pleasant in certain respects than the city you’d left behind in a haste. 

“Where do you want me to wait for you?” you ask, turning to face him now at the front steps of the sheriff’s office.

He frowns. “Wait for me?”

“While you work, I mean. Surely you don’t mean for me to sit inside all day twiddling my thumbs while you work.”

His mustache twitches with a smile. “Thought I’d show you around first—get you acquainted with the locals.”

The idea of mingling with the townsfolk doesn’t appeal to you, but you also can’t think of a good enough reason to refuse. Especially with the curious glances already being sent your way. You duck your head to stare down at your boots when you spot a group of other women clustered together and whispering to each other, their eyes trained on you. Somehow you’ve gone from being furniture in a room to being a source of local gossip, and it’s almost hard to believe that you miss being ignored. 

When you look back up at John, you find him still staring down at you, waiting patiently. Up close, the sunlight almost turns patches of his beard gold; he has a smattering of moles across his face, not the blush of freckles but rather a few dark spots by his nose. Aside from the tuft of hair under his bottom lip, his chin is mostly bare, and when he smiles, his whole face moves with it. You have to blink to snap yourself out of it. 

Your upper lip curls involuntarily when you say, “So you want to help me make friends?” 

“Well, seeing as I know most of ‘em, figured I’d be a help.”

“The job’s really not all that busy then, huh?” You really wish you could learn to shut your mouth, since it keeps getting you in trouble, but the barbs roll off your tongue so naturally. Luckily, it seems to amuse him now more than it did early this morning. 

“Guess life isn’t as exciting ‘round here as it is back in the city, but it has its days,” John chuckles. “Now come on; I’ll give you the tour.”

For some reason, you hadn’t pictured the town being quite so big, but during your walk, you realize you’ve vastly underestimated the true size of it. Though not anywhere near as ostentatious as the cities back east, the sheer breadth of it eclipses anything from back home. It’s spread out on an incomparable scale, the mountains in the background stretching out along the horizon like the skeletal remains of a giant long since dead and decayed.  

It’s not the ramshackle town you envisioned when you stepped off the train the other day, despite the wooden facades and their brightly painted signs. You almost wish you had more time just to admire the craftsmanship, but John leads you from store to store like he’s on a mission.

He seems most interested in towing you around like some prized mare, all trussed up and clean from your bath the night before. You meet so many people that their names and faces all begin to blur together. The worst offense of all is that it makes you lean on John for support, looking up at him again and again for reassurance whenever you can’t answer a question or your answer triggers a moment of awkward silence. 

Those moments come aplenty too. The few people nosey enough to ask you about your life back in the city find themselves on the butt end of a cheerfully delivered lie from John. It unnerves you at first, seeing how comfortable he is with lying. He doesn’t even hesitate for a second when recounting your previous life as a schoolteacher in Connecticut prior to your engagement.

Perhaps it’s not a lie though. You don’t know the extent to which he and his original betrothed corresponded. Certainly not enough for him to suspect you of not being her, but maybe she’d spun him that story. Or maybe it had been the truth. All this time you’d thought that John had been swindled by some con artist using desperate men to fund her lifestyle, but maybe somewhere between here and Connecticut, there’s an unmarked grave with the corpse of the woman that John had intended to marry. 

That makes you feel guilty somehow, like you’ve taken something not meant for you. Even if you hadn’t wanted it—in fact, been forced into taking it. 

You swallow that thought when John leads you into the general store. Your eyes bug at the sight of a blonde haired woman in khaki cloth knickerbockers stocking the shelves, who turns at the sound of the door creaking open, the sharp look on her face melting away at the sight of John.

The warmth in her face infuriates you more than it should. You have no right to feel this way��or, some right, but you resent the fact that you do as well. 

“Hi John,” she greets. Her voice is deeper than you anticipated, springtime crisp like a babbling brook. 

“Laswell,” John greets, scooping his arm around your side until he can palm the side of your hip, dragging you in close. You stumble into him, catching yourself with a hand on his chest. Your neck and face go hot when Laswell’s eyes turn on you, curiosity glinting in them. 

“Your lady finally showed up then,” she surmises. “I’ll be honest, I was starting to think you made her up. Told the boys to think about forcing you into an early retirement.”

John huffs at that. His fingers tighten at your waist when Laswell says your lady, as if the words alone make it fact. Speak it into being. The metal burns against your ring finger. In a sense, it is fact, despite the subterfuge. You wonder if it would hold up in court, but out here, it’s real enough. 

“Well, she’s very real, as you can tell.” He gives you a little shake with the hand on your waist. “Say hi, darlin’.”

If looks could kill, yours would be pit-viper venom. You’d leave behind a festering puncture mark and a body in the throes of envenomation. “Excuse me?”

Your attitude might come at a cost this time because he looks unamused at your back talk in front of an audience. “Darlin’.” It’s said like a warning. 

You bite your tongue instead of lashing out. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Kate Laswell; I own this little shop,” she says, introducing herself and stepping forward to hold out her hand. You have to step forward to take it, pulling you out of John’s arms. It feels familiar being on your own, certainly more natural than being constantly at John’s side the way you have for almost two days now. It’s also a bit cold after having John’s warmth at your back or side at all times. 

There’s a moment when you realize that Kate is the first person you’ve had to introduce yourself to, John having introduced you to everyone else you’d come across. It hovers on the tip of your tongue when you realize that you could just say your real name, and you find yourself torn between setting it free and the odd fear of John’s reaction. 

You chicken out at the last second, giving Kate the same name as the one John introduced you by to everyone else in town. 

“He might growl like a bear, but you’ll get used to that,” she says, winking.

You frown. Awfully familiar talk for someone who isn’t his wife. Why should she know that? 

You make yourself push that thought away, reminding yourself again that it doesn’t matter. It’s none of your concern. 

“He’s been a gentleman,” you croak instead, smile so thin that it might as well be a grimace. 

A shout from the bar across the street startles you, drawing your attention away from the conversation. John stills too. A series of raised voices puts him on alert, and then someone inside the bar must fire a gun because the violent crack of one makes you scream, the noise pulled involuntarily from your chest. 

“Stay here,” John growls, his pistol already drawn. He’s out the door before you can respond, darting across the street towards the bar and shouldering the door open so hard that it rattles in its frame. You watch everything happen through the window of the general store with your heart in your throat. 

“Good Lord,” you whisper, hand over your mouth. Kate stands beside you in a similar manner, her eyebrows pinched in concern. 

The thought doesn’t even occur to you that now would be the perfect time to make a break for it, with John busy across the street. Your feet are rooted in place; you doubt you’d be able to take so much as a single step towards the door. 

There’s precious little that you can see through the grit-lined bar windows, not as dusty and dirty as they are, but you can hear the commotion from inside. Raised voices and the sound of breaking glass. It makes you flinch, heart galloping at an even faster pace. Like harness horses on the Freehold Raceway. It’s not long before you see a large, masked man hightailing it down the road towards the bar, dust clouding around his boots with each heavy step. 

You recognize him almost instantly as the man from your wedding, the one that signed your marriage license. John’s man—Simon. He nearly takes the bar door off its hinges when he throws it open, barely in there a second before he and John come out each with a man in hand, both already handcuffed and looking roughed up They drag them stumbling down the dirt road towards the sheriff’s office, Simon half-dragging another man whose white button-down is slowly saturating with red blood oozing out of a gunshot wound in his belly.

“Shouldn’t they call a doctor for that man?” you ask Kate in a frantic voice, whipping around to face her. 

She nods. “They probably will once they’ve got the four of them locked up. Doctor probably heard that anyway—he’ll be on his way, I bet.”

“On his way already?”

“There’s only one doctor around here. And not much else sounds like a gunshot.”

“Does that happen a lot around here?” You don’t know why the thought makes you nervous, but there’s a cramp in your belly and a sweat building up on the back of your neck and your hands itch to grab something. When you swallow, it almost doesn’t go down. 

“It’s not uncommon. I reckon it’s not something you’re used to?”

You purse your lips. “I’ve seen a dead body before.” You don’t know why that comes out so defensively, like a slight that’s been levied against you. There’s no easy way to dispel the myth in everyone’s mind that you come from a life of comfort and ease, with delicate hands fit for delicate work. You curl your hands into fists at the thought, conscious of the old scars and calluses built up over years of scrubbing and cleaning. If she were to look down, she wouldn’t see the well-kept hands of a lady. 

When Kate quirks an eyebrow, you realize that your response had nothing to do with her question. “Well, look at you.”

When John and Simon disappear into the jailhouse, the door swinging shut behind them, you sway on your feet for a second, feeling oddly unbalanced. Something about the sight of the man’s blood leaves you feeling woozy, taking the chair that Kate offers you when she sees the way you rock back on your heels. 

“Let me get you something to drink,” Kate offers, brows now furrowed sympathetically at the pathetic sight you must be. “I’m sure you got a little fright thinking of your husband facing down a man with a gun, but I’m afraid that comes with marrying a sheriff. There’s danger everywhere, you know.”

What you don’t say is that your lightheadedness came not just from the sight of the man with the blood leaking from a wound in his stomach, but the grim look on your husband’s face as he carted away the man responsible, eyes hard as steel. No sympathy for the man in his hands. Only another criminal to be tossed away in a jail cell. The punishment for making another man bleed.

Your hands shake in your lap, but you don’t say that. Instead, you smile weakly and take the glass of water from her hands when she comes back from filling it at the sink. “You’re right. Just a little fright.”

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #captain john price #price/reader #price x reader #price x you #john price x reader

[mrsbarnesblog]

Jersey

masterlist ko-fi ao3

College! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Natasha’s idea of getting a jersey with Bucky’s name turned out to be much better than you expected.

Word count: 3.2K

Warnings: smut, established relationship, college, football player bucky is a biggest warning tbh, he's so in love, locker room sex, nat is good friend, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare.

Author's note: honestly one of my favorite fics because college athlete bucky is my biggest weakness (I should probably write about him more often)💘

It’s been another game for the "Avengers", where your boyfriend Bucky Barnes was a quarterback. Today was one of the most important games against "Hydra" – their biggest enemy. Obviously, you couldn't miss the game, and Natasha, your best friend and roommate, will be with you as always. And right now, she has convinced you to do something that has been on your mind for a long time.

"C’mon, It’ll be fun. He’ll like it, I promise!" She said as you two stood near the place that made custom t-shirts with any prints. And at this moment, Natasha wanted you to order a jersey with Bucky’s number and his name on it.

"I don’t know, Nat. I mean, I want to do it, but what if he thinks that it’s too much?" You nervously played with the hem of your skirt.

"Now stop it." She stood before you and put her hand on her hips like a mother who was scolding her child. "You’ve been dating for more than a year, and his guy loves you so fucking much that he can’t even tear his eyes from you every time you two are in the same room. So when I tell you that he’ll love it, I mean it." You silently looked at her for a few minutes, but when she questionably raised her eyebrow, you finally gave up.

"Fine, you won. I hate you."

"I love you too, baby." Nat chuckled and dragged you to the store.

It seemed like there were thousands of people because everyone wanted to see one of the most important games of the season. People were already taking their seats, but you and Nat went straight to the locker room to wish the guys good luck. Trainer Fury was very strict about this, and it was forbidden for people not from the team to go there, but for some reason Nat always found a way to solve this problem.

"Guys!" Natasha loudly knocked at the door. "Are all of you already dressed up? I’m not in the mood to see somebody’s ass today!"

"Come in!" You heard Thor’s loud voice.

"Oh, I see our support group is here." As soon as you two walked in, Sam ended up between you and Nat and threw his hands over your shoulders, leading you deeper into the room. "Barnes will be here soon; don’t worry."

"Okay. Are you guys ready to beat their asses?" You smiled and looked at the almost entire team that had come to see you and Nat.

"Don’t worry, Sweets, we’ll win, as always." Tony answered you while he was cleaning his helmet. "But you should tell your boyfriend to stay away from Rumlow, or else he’ll be suspended again. By the way, is that jersey with his name?" You quietly nodded as the whole team made an impressive ‘woo’ together.

"You two are disgustingly sweet, you know that?" Sam rolled his eyes, and at the same time, the door slammed. "It’s him; go give him some kisses for luck."

"Shut up, Samuel." You laughed and left their little circle to find Bucky looking at his phone. "Don’t you want to say hi, James?" He moved his eyes to you, and his face immediately lit up with happiness.

"I just wanted to text you." He threw his phone on the bench and came closer to wrap his arms around you. "Hi, doll. I missed you so much today." He mumbled into your neck.

"I missed you too, Buck." You smiled when your heart filled with all the love you had for that man. "But wait, I have to show you something." You slipped out of his hands, excited and nervous at the same time. "Look what I’ve got!" You happily turned around to show Bucky your back and flipped your hair to the side so he could see everything better. "Do you like it?"

You had a big red jersey on you, to which Bucky didn't even pay attention at first. But when you turned around, his mouth went dry and his whole body became fuzzy. You had his number 17 and the word "Barnes" on your back. You were wearing his last name on your back.

For a few seconds, he was silent. He didn't answer your answer either, so with confusion written on your face, you faced him again, only to see a weird look on his face.

"What? You don't like it? Should I take this off? I'm sorry…" You started to apologize, only to be interrupted by his low voice.

"Don't you dare take this off, Y/N." He suddenly came closer to you again, and the next thing you knew, your back was slapped against the metal lockers when Bucky’s lips attacked you. He kissed you passionately and deeply, pressing his body against yours as if he was desperate to touch you and feel you closer. You couldn’t hold back the quiet moan that escaped your mouth when he tilted your head with his hand, helping his tongue slip into your mouth.

You thought that you heard the screams of the boys on the other side of the room, but they were really muffled when your head was filled with the thought of your boyfriend’s soft lips and warm skin. Bucky finally broke the kiss, leaving you two catching your breath while he put his forehead on yours and closed his eyes.

"You don’t understand what you’re doing to me. You look so fucking hot in this jersey, I want to fuck you right now." He whispered so only you could hear. "You made me hard, doll." To prove his words, he pushed his hips a little bit closer to you so you could feel the hardness.

"‘M sorry; I didn’t know that you would react like that."

"Hey, Buck, we should already go." Bucky’s grip on your waist became only tighter, when he heard Steve’s voice, and he nuzzled into your neck.

"Give me a minute."

"The game is gonna start soon."

"I said, give me a minute, Steve!" He said it louder. Bucky deeply inhaled, and it was obvious that he just needed some time to calm down.

"Shh, it’s okay, James." You put your hands through his hair because you knew that it would instantly relax him. "You're gonna win this game, right? And without fights." 

"I’ll do everything for you. I just love you so much, doll." He whispered into your neck when his body finally relaxed and he was able to move away from you.

"I love you too, James." He quickly kissed you again before turning around to face the team, who had knowing smirks on their faces.

"You two should get a room." Sam had an annoyed look on his face.

"Don’t worry, Birdbrain, we will. Are you ready for the game, or are you gonna stand here and complain all day?" Bucky winked at you and went out of the room without waiting for the answer from Sam.

"So…" Natasha suddenly appeared near you. "Did you make The White Wolf hard by just wearing a shirt with his name on it?" She grinned, as it was her original plan that worked.

"Oh, shut up!"

The game was tough. Hydra played dirty as always, and Bucky almost got into a fight with Rumlow during the intense moment. You almost jumped out of the seat during the last few minutes of the game, and when "Avengers" finally won, you and Natsha screamed at the top of your lungs.

As soon as the team was done cheering and hugging, Bucky looked at the seat where you were supposed to be but saw only Nat, who pointed at you already standing near the rim. He ran to you with the biggest smile on his face, and when he finally reached you, he crushed his lips into yours.

You didn’t care that many people looked at you, even though you knew that some particular groups of girls would gossip about it for the next week because… well, everyone wanted your boyfriend. You just wrapped your hands around his sweaty neck and pulled him closer to you as far as you could with a fence between you two.

"I’m so proud of you, baby." You whispered into his lips. "You were amazing as always."

"Thank you, doll. I'm happy that you’re here with me." He looked into your eyes as his right thumb rubbed your cheek.

"You know I couldn’t miss your game, especially if it’s that important."

"Mhm, can you… come to the locker room in like twenty minutes?" Bucky nervously licked his lips.

"To the locker room? I thought we were going to celebrate it with the team as always."

"Maybe later, but I’m thinking of something, so come, ‘kay?" He started to go back to the field, but not before giving you another sweet kiss on the lips.

***

You sat in the cafeteria for about twenty minutes, passionately waiting for the appropriate time to go to the locker room because you really didn’t want to see another naked man that wasn’t your boyfriend. One such experience was enough for you. You asked Nat to come with you, but when you repeated Bucky’s words to her, she just gave you a mysterious smirk and patted you on the shoulder, saying that you better go there alone.

When you finally got there and knocked on the door, you heard only Bucky’s voice, who told you to come in.

"James? What’s going on?" You asked as you came further into the room. It was empty except for Bucky, who came out of nowhere and locked the door. "What are you doing?"

He didn’t answer you; he just crossed the room, kissed you, and pushed your back into the metal lockers, just as he did it a few hours ago. He was greedy, passionate, and a little bit too rough, so you couldn’t keep the moan from escaping your mouth. Bucky’s hands squeezed your hips and then went higher under your jersey.

"Bucky…" You pulled away from the kiss, but he took advantage of it and started kissing your neck. Your eyes rolled back as you squeezed his shoulders and completely forgot everything you wanted to say. He sucked your soft skin into his mouth and even bit you. It was obvious that he desperately wanted to leave dark marks on your neck, but, honestly, you didn’t care. He smelled too good fresh out of the shower, with his bare chest and low-rise gray sweatpants, and his mouth… God, you knew what his mouth could do. "Baby, we can’t do it here."

"We can, and we will." He left your neck and looked at you, leaving only a few inches between your faces. "You can’t imagine how hard it was for me not to bend you over the closest surface when you showed me that fucking shirt. With my name on it? So everyone could see that you’re mine?" Bucky licked his already swollen lips. You pressed your thighs together, feeling how wet you were. He definitely felt that motion because his eyes became darker, and he looked like he was going to devour you at that same place.

"James…" You quietly whimpered, not being able to hold yourself anymore.

"Baby, fuck– doll, I love it when you call me that. You drive me insane." He decided not to lose any more time, so his hands went straight to the button of your jeans. He helped you get out of them, not losing a chance to touch your bare legs. "Now turn around, baby." You heard a deep moan, probably when he saw the back of the shirt again.

"Bucky, please." You whispered when you felt that more juices came out of you. You loved when your boyfriend became needy and possessive.

"Look at you, doll. You're already ready for me, and I haven’t even touched you yet." He said that when he put his hand over your pussy, he probably felt the heat and pulse. "I would’ve eaten you out, but I need you too fucking much, so I promise to do it when we get to my place."

"O-okay, just do something, please." You pushed your ass back and heard a loud, deep moan as soon as you touched Bucky’s hard cock through his pants. You put your hands behind your back to try to push down his clothes, and at the same time, Bucky removed your black thongs.

You felt his hard cock on the bare skin of your ass, the tip already leaking with pre-cum. Bucky squeezed your ass with his hands and moved his hips. His perfectly shaped cock grinded against your wet folds, and you couldn’t stop a whimper from escaping your throat.

"Please, don’t tease me–" You didn’t even finish the sentence when Bucky moved forward and buried himself deep inside of you. The mixture of pain and pleasure washed over you, and you didn’t even realize that you moaned too loudly. He was too perfect, filling you completely and stretching you around him in the most delicious way.

"Sh-h, sweetheart, you don’t want other people to hear you, right?" One of Bucky’s hands slipped under your shirt and laid on your stomach, and the other one covered your mouth, pulling you closer to his chest. "Good girl." He mumbled into your ear when you shook your head.

Bucky pulled away from you, still staying deep inside of your heat, letting you adjust to his size. He put one hand from your mouth on your back, which made you lean forward toward the lockers. The cold metal cooled your hot skin, but it still felt like you were burning inside.

Bucky finally started moving his hips, and the filling of his dick coming in and out of you made you almost faint. You two had sex a million times, but it still amazed you how full and satisfied he made you feel.

"That’s right, doll. You’re so greedy for my dick, huh?" He started to go faster, and you tried to move your body to his rhythm. "Was this your plan? Showing me that fucking jersey, so I could fuck you like a little slut you actually are?" His hand went over your back, tracing letters on your shirt with his fingers, and his motions became harder. In fact, it wasn’t your idea, but you should definitely thank Natasha because you really didn’t expect your boyfriend to become even more obsessed with you.

Your mouth opened in a silent scream, and you clenched around Bucky’s cock, making him moan. "I feel how you’re clenching ‘round me. I know that you like it when I call you my slut. Only mine." 

"Yes, Bucky– James, please." A sudden slap on your right cheek pulled another moan out of you, and Bucky just chuckled, knowing that you’re always loud with him.

"Please what, baby?"

"Let me cum, please– James! I’m so close." You felt too overwhelmed with pleasure, not even realizing that you started crying when his fingers moved to your clit, drawing little circles there.

"Fuck, one day I’m gonna make you Mrs. Barnes, so you will have a well-damn reason to wear this shirt." He deeply chuckled, moving harder and harder into you. More nasty sounds of skin slapping into skin and your not-so-quiet moans filled the room. "Can you imagine that, baby? Being my cute little wife, who likes when I fuck the shit out of her? Poor doll, crying. Can’t even handle my cock deep inside your pussy, can’t you?" He moved even deeper into you, and that was it.

"God– James!" You slammed your hands on the metal near your face, trying to find something to hold onto, as the wave of heat and extreme pleasure covered your whole body and mind. Your legs trembled, and the only thing that kept you straight was Bucky’s strong hands. He felt that you were over the edge, that you couldn’t stand on your legs, and he definitely felt more juices coming out of you. He looked down and saw how his shiny cock was coming in and out of your pussy that was particularly choking him, and that sight threw him over the edge. With the last movement, he pulled your body into him, wrapping his hands around you and releasing his hot seed deep inside of you.

You both moaned at the feeling of you being so full of his cum that it had already started dripping down your thighs.

"That’s it, baby." Bucky whispered into your ear. "You did so well. Are you okay?" He left light kisses on your cheek.

It was too intense; not a single thought came to your head, and for a few seconds you tried to put yourself together.

"Mhm." It was the only thing that you were able to answer because your body was still trembling with the leftovers of your intense orgasm.

You two stayed in that position for a few minutes until Bucky realized that you had become too sleepy. He tried to pull out, but you grabbed his hand.

"‘m too sensitive." You almost cried.

"I know, sweetheart, but now I have to clean you and take you home." Bucky gently came out of you, and your body got goosebumps at the feeling of his cum leaking out of you. It took him all the strength not to shove it back into you with his fingers, but you were obviously too tired, and he couldn’t properly take care of you since you weren’t at his or your bedroom.

Bucky fell on his knees, quickly took a towel from his bag on the floor, and carefully cleaned the mess between your thighs. He reached for your panties, helped you put them back, leaving a soft kiss on your leg, and then helped you sit on the bench.

He looked at your sleepy and tired face while putting on his clothes.

"Hey, doll? You’re too quiet. Is everything okay? Was I too rough?"

"I’m ‘kay, it was just as intense as when you make me come many times in one night. Just help me with my jeans; I can’t feel my legs."

"Of course, sweetheart." He helped you with your pants and then fixed your messy hair. You couldn’t imagine how you must’ve looked right now. "I love you so much. Thank you for being here today. You’re truly the best thing that ever happened to me." Bucky kissed your forehead and wrapped his hands around your body, standing up with you.

"I love you too, Buck. So so much." You happily buried your face into his neck, knowing that your boyfriend was going to take care of everything.

He picked up his bag and keys for the locker room and came out of there. Bucky didn’t even close the door when he heard a familiar voice.

"Do not tell me that you two did what I think you did!" Sam was standing there a few steps away with disgust and shock on his face. "I didn’t expect that from you, Y/N/N." He joked.

"Sorry, Sam." You moved away from Bucky’s neck and tried to give Sam your best apologetic smile.

"Well, I’m not. Since you’re here, close the door, Birdbrain; we hurry."

Sam stood there for a few more moments after Bucky left with you in his arms.

He decided that the headphones that he left in the room could wait until another time.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky x you #marvel #james buchanan barnes #marvel imagine #marvel smut #bucky barnes x you #winter soldier #college!bucky #bucky barnes fanfic #mcu x reader

[myfictionaldreams]

Day 9: Size Kink - Ari Levinson

Summary: Ari was your grumpy (handsome) boss, who never smiled at anyone. So why did he care so much if you smiled at someone else?

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, grumpy vs sunshine, arguments, size difference, size kink (Ari is huge in every way), showing off strength, manhandling, spit as lube, fingering, possessive, rough sex

masterlist 📚 

kinktober masterlist😈 

AO3 Link 

It had been a long day already; the sun was beaming down, which meant the bar was packed to capacity, with endless drinks and money being swapped. You thrived on days like this, enjoying the perks an extra broad smile could get you from willing customers who hadn’t appreciated service with a smile. Today, there was one specific customer, Matt, who was sitting on a stool in the middle of the bar and had been complimenting you for the entire afternoon.

He was harmless and continuously gave you tips with every drink, so you plastered a great, broad, fake smile that ached your cheeks every time you went near him. Ari watched from the end of the bar at how you smiled towards the stranger and how the man smiled back, and the second your back was turned, his eyes would be searching your body greedily.

Ari’s hand tightened around the beer bottle to the point that he was close to shattering it and had to take a long breath through his nose to calm himself down. Yet, he continued to watch. He always used the excuse that because he was the boss, he needed to keep a close eye on the goings on in his establishment and his employees, but deep down, he knew there was another reason he was always sitting at the bar rather than in his office.

The liquor you needed for your requested drink was empty as you lifted it to show the customer with a closed-lipped smile, “need a new one”, you quickly explained before leaving out the back of the bar. 

All of the stock was kept in the cellar, so you descended the steps carefully, taking your time to have a quiet moment to yourself. Scanning the rows of liquid against the wall, you sighed, seeing that the one bottle you needed was on the highest shelf, which you would struggle to reach. Straining up on the tips of your toes, your arm stretched out as far as it could, reaching for the bottle, but a searing warmth burned through the clothes on your lower back as Ari pressed against it, using it as leverage to reach above you to grab the liquor easily.

You jumped at his sudden presence but were also not surprised, as he usually found an excuse to follow you throughout the bar. Peering up at him, you exclaimed, “God, Ari, you scared me. Wait, what’s that look for? What’s wrong?”.

He didn’t say a word, but you knew something wasn’t right by the angry scowl, which usually softened whenever you smiled up at him like you were attempting to do now. Unlike behind the bar, this smile was genuine, and the joy reached your eyes, making them appear as if they were twinkling. Ari would always do feats like this, showing off his staggering size and strength so that he could experience this smile to the point that he seemed to be always standing over you, with his towering height that made your neck ache, one of the few people to make you feel small in stature, dainty even, especially when he became all dominant and acting like the resident bodyguard for the bar. Everyone knew not to mess with the boss.

It was hard not to fall for him; sure that everyone who was attracted to a man fell in love with him as soon as they saw him sitting at the bar or over your shoulder. To be truthful, there were times when you faked not being able to lift a table or heavy pot of glasses just so that he could come and lift things whilst you oggled at his psychic, but he was happy to help, even though he always had that deep frown.

The frown that he was currently still looking at you with enough that it had you feeling slightly uneasy as you looked away to the alcohol in his hand, reaching for it. “Oh, thank you! Don’t think I would have been able to reach that anyway.” Your hand extended to grab the bottle, but he held it back and out of your reach.

Ari’s eyes darkened in colour as he stepped forward, and instinctively, you stepped back until you were pressed against the cool brick wall with his towering body hovering over yours, his arm resting above your head. Despite stepping away from him, the stance didn’t phase you. Once again, he was doing it to show off the size difference, and you made sure not to waver with your smile, still beaming up at him.

Ari’s shoulder-length hair fell to shadow his handsome face, and all you wanted to do was run your fingers through the soft strands and brush them behind his ears. Even though he may appear threatening, you trusted Ari with your entire life, and the two of you always seemed to be teetering on the edge of being flirtatious. Still, you’d never have the courage to make a move, mainly because he was your boss.

The giant man studied you for a long moment, inspecting your face to the point you became self-conscious until they lingered on your smiling lips.

“You need to stop smiling at him”, Ari demanded with his voice low and gravely. Your smile finally dropped as you released a choked laugh, causing your shoulders to shake with the force.

“What? Smiling at who?” you asked, dumbfounded. He gestures with his head, nodding towards the stairs and to the bar when it finally dawned on you who he was referring to. Crossing your arms over your chest, you continued, “What? Matt, the guy at the bar? He’s harmless, and didn’t you always tell us that we need to serve our drinks with a smile?” As you teased Ari, you raised onto your tiptoes to lean closer and gloat the broad smile that was back on your face.

He didn’t break, continuing to frown, but now his shoulders were tense. “You need to stop”, he growled, stepping even closer until you could feel the warmth from his chest, “You don’t know what he wants, so stop smiling at him; he’ll get his hopes up”.

“Oh, and you know what he wants, do you? You can’t be upset with me because I’m being nice to a customer, and what makes this smile different to all the others that I’ve given to the others?”. You’d come to the realisation that Ari was most likely jealous, and even though it made your heart pound in your chest and excitement wanting to burst from your smile, you had tried to act like you usually did. Even though seeing him being somewhat possessive and obvious with his feelings made you want to shout it from the rooftop.

“Not. With. Him”, Ari grounds out each word with enough venom that you almost wanted to shrink away.

“Fine”, you say with confidence whilst shrugging your shoulders, “So who am I allowed to smile at then? I like happiness and want to smile at someone who returns it. Who else am I supposed to do it with because you sure as hell don’t smile at me”.

Ari doesn't say anything, so you lift a hand and rest it on his shoulders before tapping with your fingers and resisting the urge to give the muscles that you could feel a good squeeze. “You need to relax a little, Boss, it’s fine. I won’t smile at him, I promise. Now, can I go back to work, please?”

All he does is grunt in answer, giving him a Neanderthal appearance as he holds out the bottle of liquor and moves away from the wall to provide you with room to move past him. Accepting the bottle, you thanked him genuinely before walking back towards the stairs with him only an inch behind.

Returning to the bar, you’d expected him to return to his seat at the end, but he stood behind you, staring at Matt with his arms crossed. You wanted to sigh but thought it best not to poke the bear, as they say, especially when he was so riled up.

Pouring the guy's drink, you passed it to him and stated the price, all without a smile. The customer didn’t look in your direction as he eyed Ari, asking, “What’s his problem?” All you did was shrug in response whilst handing out your hand still for the money. Instead of reading the situation and knowing when to keep his mouth closed, Matt made the mistake of muttering under his breath, “I bet he’s an asshole to work for”.

The money for the drink fell into the centre of your palm just as Ari suddenly was at your back, but you tried to push him back, feeling the heat already burning your face with anger as you pointed towards the door. “Get out”, you demanded confidently.

“What?” Matt shouted, astonished that you’d even say such a thing.

“You heard me; get the fuck out” The adrenaline was deciding your actions as you became increasingly angry at what he’d said about Ari. Slamming the money onto the bar counter, you pointed at the door again for emphasis.

Matt finally snapped, kicking back his stool and slamming his drink on the counter, “Are you fucking joking? I’ve just paid for this drink; I’m not leaving!”

Once again, you weren’t sure logic was in control of your body anymore as you did something so out of character it shocked even Ari. Reaching over the bar, you grabbed the drink and poured it over the guy's head before pointing at the door once more, “You don’t have a drink anymore. I’m not asking again. Get the fuck out of his bar, NOW. You don’t talk about the boss like that”. 

It was a rare day when you truly lost your temper, so the entire bar had quietened by this point and stared in anticipation. Thankfully, even though the guy looked ready to throw his chair at your head, he instead turned and stumbled out of the doors.

As the atmosphere began to return to normal, the realisation of what you’d just done came to you. Your fingers began to tremble as anxiety sat heavy in your stomach as you tried to take a deep, steadying breath.

That burning, warm palm returned to your lower back as Ari dipped his head to whisper into your ear, “My office, now.” Trying to ignore everyone else's stares, you moved past him as he nodded to the other bar staff to cover your area of the bar whilst he followed you out.

You walk, anger still prevalent even with the anxiety worsening as you realise that you’d technically assaulted one of the customers by throwing his drink at him. What if you get reported? What if Ari thinks you’ve gone too far?

You’re nervously chewing on your thumb when you reach his office at the back of the building. You looked around at the scarcely decorated room with a desk, two chairs and closed blinds so that it was only just illuminated by streaks of sunlight but nothing else, so it was dimly lit. Ari hardly ever used this room, which is why you knew you were in trouble, especially needing a private space to reprimand you so no one could hear if he wanted to shout.

Walking into the centre of the room, you jumped on the spot, turning towards the door that had just been slammed closed by your boss. He stalked towards you, head tilted low as he backed you into a wall like in the cellar.

“I’m so fucking done”, Ari seethed, a vein bulging in his temple and tense muscles lining his arms and shoulders.

You were initially unsure what to say, your lower lip trembling as the anger seeped away, and only the nerves remained. “I’m sorry, Ari, I shouldn’t have thrown the drink at him. I don’t know what I was thinking”.

You had lost confidence and lowered your face to look at the carpeted floor, but Ari was quick to grip your chin in his thumb and forefinger and tilt your face so you were looking back into his bearded face. His voice was low and steady as he spoke, “I am so fucking done with this bullshit cat-and-mouse game we have going on”.

This caught you off guard as you blinked away the anxiety, asking, “What?”

Ari dipped his face even lower, and you took a moment to appreciate how big he was and how much lower he had to make himself so that you were face to face. With him this close, you could smell the aftershave he’d sprayed onto his neck this morning, smelling spicy and had your mouth drooling.

“I’m your boss”, Ari interrupted your dirty thoughts, “It’s unprofessional the things that I dream about, but you make it so fucking difficult to remain your boss when you’re smiling all the time. I want to kiss that smile away so you can return to work and stop distracting me. But today, seeing you there shouting at that asshole for me. I can’t stay professional much longer, so here’s your chance. Leave and walk out that door right now, and we’ll never talk about this again, but if you stay”, his eyes lowered from your lips to assess your body in the darkness. “If you stay, I promise you there will be no other thoughts than my name coming out of your pretty little mouth”.

Ari gave you a moment to contemplate and decide. You, however, were not thinking at all, your mind was empty, and the only response was the warming of your cunt, clenching already around nothing as you knew there was no way you were leaving.

Your arms wrapped around his neck before any of your anxiety returned, pulling him down for a heated kiss. Mouths moving with need against the other, causing Ari to moan; actually, MOAN into your mouth as his lips instantly parted and warm tongue brushed against yours. His arms were around your waist, pulling you as close as possible until your breasts were squished against his firm chest.

It felt like your boss was completely surrounding you as his arms expanded over the area of your back, just as firm as his chest, and you could feel the muscles bulging beneath his plaid shirt. Your feet were suddenly off the floor as he lifted you into his arms, your legs securely wrapping around his waist as one of his arms rested beneath your arse as your back connected with the wall again.

He tasted so good, even though it mainly tasted of the beer he’d been drinking; you’ve fantasised about this moment for months. He was just as dominant as you’d predicted, his mouth forcing yours more open to caress his tongue further into your face, almost like he couldn’t reach far enough within and needed to feel every crevice. The hand that wasn’t supporting your weight then moved to your cheek, his long fingers stretching so far they wrapped around the back of your head as he tilted your head slightly to once again attempt to deepen the kiss.

Ari’s jean-covered hips then ground against yours, stoking the fire inside your cunt more. His actions were desperate, wanting to feel every single part of you. It was almost overstimulating to your senses because all you’d managed to do was keep up with the pace of his tongue and lips and stroke your fingers through his hair just as you wanted to do. But Ari, he was all over you, his mouth now exploring your throat, sucking and biting on the areas that made you moan more and send tingles between your thighs.

The sound of clothes ripping then echoed around the office as Ari had become frustrated with the amount of clothes you wore that was stopping his exploration. Your shirt disappeared with a single tear down the middle and then disintegrated onto the floor. Once again, he was showing off his strength, and you really didn’t care, completely and utterly, at this disposal, especially when his mouth was now sucking on your left nipple.

He lapped against the sensitive bud with his tongue flat, then sucked it into his mouth, a tight seal forming with his lips before gently biting with his sharp teeth, causing your back to arch and fingers to grip more firmly into his locks. Ari moved to the other breasts as his fingers then replaced his tongue with the wet breast, pinching and pulling until you were begging for him to touch you there.

Your mewls were not stifled at all, head tipped back and mouth wide open; nothing was filtering your volume, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you were thankful that the bar was so busy that the music and talking would hopefully cover your moans of joy.

“Ari! Please give me more!” Pulling on his slightly damp hair from the sweat, you forced his face away from your breasts so that you could devour his mouth. His hips thrust harder into yours, and even though you were both still clothed, you could feel the hardness waiting for you in his tented jeans.

Tugging on his bottom lip with your teeth,  Ari groaned and asked, “Tell me you want this, one last chance to change your mind”.

“I need this, Ari, don’t stop”.

Your back left the comfort of the wall as he began to carry you over to his desk, holding you up with one arm. The other wiped any objects onto the floor, giving him the area to lie across.

The wooden surface was cool and welcoming as he again started kissing you, both hands cupping your jaw, holding you firmly in place. Lower he moved, down your throat, collar bones and breasts. As he licked over your stomach, he finally reached to undo your jean button. As he kissed lower, he pulled the material down with him, and only when you felt startling bare did you realise that your underwear had been removed as well.

Sitting up onto your elbows, you silky commented, “You’re wearing too many clothes”. You’d wanted to explore his body with your mouth, but he was just so tall and muscular that you weren’t able to reach him even if you sat up entirely on the desk, so with a rush, you pulled on his shirt, attempting to help remove it from his body and then the same with his jeans. You noticed how his muscles were defined as they became revealed; his abs, covered in a sprinkling of hair, had your mouth watering to touch and lick, but you became distracted by what was between his legs.

Ari Levinson was fucking huge. It was definitely the most enormous cock you’d ever been with, and it shouldn’t have surprised you, but it did. His shaft was thick, and a few veins bulged like he had in his temple when mad. The tip was bulbous, glistening in precum and a deeper shade of red than the rest of his cock. Even his balls that rested beneath his length seemed more prominent than usual, and for a fleeting moment, you contemplated if it was even going to fit.

Seemingly reading your mind, Ari grasped the base of his cock that seemed to throb as your eyes moved up and down it, “Don’t worry, Princess, it’ll fit”.

Looking up at him through your lashes, you wanted to tease him a little, so you leaned forward to kiss the tip, your lips becoming salty from his juices. As you licked up the taste, Ari hissed in a breath and pushed against your chest until you were lying lengthways against the desk once more.

As he had been before, Ari manhandled you with ease, lifting one of your legs until it rested on your shoulder. You thought he was going to start fucking you straight away; however, he was just giving his hand a better position. Whilst keeping his eyes on yours, Ari spits a glob directly onto your already-soaked pussy, collecting it with his index finger before pushing it into your cunt. Your back arched into the touch; even his fingers felt thick and made you feel full. He twirled his digit, doing this mostly to stretch and pleasure you. That could be for another time, but right now, he needed to fuck you but respectfully not hurt you either.

One finger turned into two as he added his middle digit, scissoring them both, which made your hole squelch from all of the liquids. One more finger was added, and you felt fuller than ever before. The entrance to your pussy burned slightly from having three of his fingers coaxing you wider, in and out slowly, whilst turning and opening your hole. Your thighs were trembling from the stimulation already, breaths hot and heavy as you gripped the edge of the desk above your head.

How did you even end up in this situation with your boss in his office, customers and staff just outside the door as his fingers pumped into you with expert ease to attempt to fit his cock.

Your leg dropped from his shoulder, but only so he could wrap them both around his waist as he moved closer, a hand next to your head whilst the other gripped the base of his cock as you realised he was finally, at long last, lining up with your throbbing cunt. Reaching you, your fingers dig into his shoulders, gripping him like you’d always dreamed of as his tip slotted to your entrance.

Slowly, he began to push in, and your cries turned desperate. It burned more than the three fingers; his cock was so girthy and thick that you had to concentrate on taking deep breaths to remain relaxed. Inch after inch, he pushed in, and even though the burn didn’t fade immediately, you already loved the sensation of it. It was intense but something only he could provide for you, and with time, your body adjusted, and soon you were trying to rock your hips. Even though he wasn’t even fully penetrated, his tip was pushing into your cervix.

“Ari, you’re so fucking big, Jesus Christ!” your mouth dropped open as high-pitched cries filled the thick, pleasured air.

For one beautiful second, Ari actually chuckled at your desperate reactions, wanting to stay in that moment forever, seeing you laid out beneath him like his own personal platter.

As your warm, gummy walls clenched around his cock did he snap out of his admiration. Still being careful, he moved in and out slowly and held onto your waist tightly to keep you from sliding down the desk with how tightly your cunt was hugging his cock.

Eventually, you became used to it a bit more, which meant that you began to beg for it harder, needing to feel him closer, so he dropped himself down until his lips were next to your ear and his hand around your throat to hold you still.

“You’re mine, do you understand that?” he growled with a promise never to let you go.

That beautiful grin he loved so much was suddenly beaming up at him, your fingers moving to grip the wrist that was golding your throat as you declared, “I’m all yours, Ari Levinson”.

“Fuck, I love that smile”, he admits between thrusts, his eyes unblinking so that he didn’t miss a single twitch of your face as it flooded with pleasure. However, his need to taste you took over once more as he kissed you deeply, groaning and squeezing your throat a little harder but not enough to cut off your air.

The wetness of your pussy leaked over your thighs as his desk wobbled with each thrust. Your entire body felt like it was on fire which all resonated down to your core, feeling it tighten to match the hardening in your gummy walls, suffocating his cock further in its harsh grip. 

“So big, you’re so damn big, Ari, fuck I’m going to cum”, you shouted, pulling on his hair to snap his head back so that you could breathe and shout out between thrusts. He leaned up on his arm to watch your reactions again, from the furrowed eyebrows, eyes wide and pupils blown, the swollen lips that were forming the perfect O shape as you finally came.

Your cunt had been stretched so wide that when you came, you could feel it more in your abdomen than the contractions that usually fluttered through your walls.  The orgasm, therefore, lasted longer because you were overstimulated and confused with the sensation. Still, even though you couldn’t necessarily feel how your pussy squeezed, Ari sure could as he cursed loudly, releasing your neck to slam his hand on the desk as he unexpectedly pulled out just as he began to cum.

Looking between your bodies, you watched in amazement as thick spurts of his seed shot out the end of his cock and coated your stomach. With his cock now resting over your body as he shouted through his orgasm, you could see that if he had been able to fit his entire cock inside of you, it would have reached your navel. It was that big.

As both of your moans quiet to just heavy breathing, your head dropped back onto the desk, arms and legs having no more energy, also collapsed to your side. Thankfully, Ari could see the exhaustion you were experiencing, and once he’d calmed down enough, he found a box of tissues on the floor and gently wiped away the mess he’d created on your stomach.

Peaking open an eye, you looked down your body towards where your boss knelt, “I hope you aren’t expecting me to go back to work.” your voice was thick and croaky as you smiled down at him. His blue eyes flicked up to your tired face as he raised a single eyebrow, midwipe, so you continued, “I don’t think I can walk, and you’ve ripped my shirt”.

Ari smirked, standing up again to throw the tissue into the bin. He looked your body up and down, “You know, you could just wear my shirt”.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure that’ll go down well with everyone like it wasn’t already obvious that we’ve come in here for a quick fuck”.

His body leans forward, hovering over yours, all bulging muscles and hulking size making you feel small again as he confidently states, “Well, they better get used to it. You’re mine, remember?”.

#ari levinson #ari levinson smut #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson one shot #red sea diving resort #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #mine*

[neptune-scythe]

currently laughing maniacally at the angst I'm writing right now

(literally full on cackling out loud)

#i live for the angst #its so fucking good #and its only going to get angstier #muahahahaha #grishaverse #six of crows #grishaverse fanfiction #six of crows fanfiction #ao3 fanfiction #coming soon to an ao3 near you

[cassiopeiasdaughter]

august

Theodore Nott x fem!reader

summary: Theo asks you to be his fake-girlfriend but you understand the assignment a little too well. No Voldemort/war AU

warnings: !not proofread! underage alcohol consumption

word count: 4k

ao3 - Theo masterlist

You weren’t mine to lose

Theodore Nott knew that one day he would be asked to marry a pureblooded witch and have a family with her; not because he wanted it, but because that’s what is expected of him.

What he didn't know is that in his 7th year, his father would begin throwing women at him, witches he didn't know and didn't care to get to know.

He did his best to avoid his fathers constant complains and lectures, but time was not his friend and he needed to come up with a solution to his problem or he would soon be marrying a stranger.

You and Theo became somewhat friends during quidditch practice. Neither of you played quidditch but attended your friends practice meetings, since you had nowhere else to go.

You bonded over not being into sports and falling asleep during first period every Monday. You always knew you would find him near corners at parties, watching the crowd but never intending to join them.

You were a pureblooded witch, not part of the Sacred 28, definitely not a blood purist. He liked those things about you, it felt refreshing being friends with someone who did not care about such insignificant things.

You were also kind and thoughtful and always helped him when life felt heavy, that is why he was brave enough to ask you a very important favor.

"Absolutely not!", you shouted

"Shhhhh", students whispered.

Madam Pince walked to you, with a scowl on her face and her hands crossed tightly in front of her,

"Mr Nott, are you and your friend aware this is a library?", she said displeased.

"I am sorry, Madam Pince, it won’t happen again", you whispered fast

"Well that is what I expect of you, next time I hear you, you'll be jinxed off of here.", she replied and walked away.

Theo was looking at you innocently, begging you with his eyes to accept his proposal.

"Theo I will not pretend to date you", you whispered this time.

"Please, it won't be for more than three months, I just need my father to back off!", he explained

"Please, please, please!", he continued, "He will marry me off to a snob French witch, I am sure of it, and then I’ll be forced to have a bunch of kids with her, for the sake of the family line"

"I will end up 30 and more miserable than Snape!", he finished dramatically

You rolled your eyes at that and said, "Firstly, that is a bit dramatic and secondly, if we 'date' there is no way it will be only for three months."

He smirked at that "Well, love, if you wanted to be with me for more than that you could have said so from the start."

You hit him with your notebooks after that and he burst out laughing.

You saw Madam Pince behind him -not so entertained- mouthing "OUT" with her eyebrows raised.

He shouted your name while following you down the hallway,

"Please, think about it.", he begged

"Theo I told you-", you started but were cut off by a figure walking past you.

"Hello there.", says Finn with a smile that could persuade you to do anything he wanted.

Truth is you have had a crush on the boy ever since you met him. He is in a different House than you and you never get the chance to talk to him. You always try to master up the courage during parties but you can never find the right time. He hangs out with your friends but you feel too foolish to admit your crush to them, so you are stuck with greetings in hallways and daydreaming during class.

"Hi", you respond with a blush on your face and an awkward smile.

Finn continues walking; but your mind is stuck on the way he looked at you and his smile and;

"So that is why you won't be my fake-girlfriend."

"I- what?", you turn to find him smirking like an idiot and reply "Shut up", as you walk by him, taking long strides.

"Wait wait.", he says while trying to catch up to you.

"Maybe this can help us both.", he says after running in front of you to stop you.

"How could this help me?", you say back, "Not that I want any help!", you add quickly

"Well in the case that you did want my help, I can - as a teenage boy- testify that jealousy goes a long way."

"Please, jealous? He doesn't even know my name, why would he care if we dated?"

"Along with jealousy, being seen with someone else makes you more attractive", he adds quickly

"That is stupid and disgusting."

"It is the way the world works, love." he smiles deviously "So what do you say will you be my fake girlfriend?" he says as he extends his hand into a handshake

"No" you reply, smacking his hand away.

"I will see you tomorrow for breakfast, I'd tell you to ask Pince, she's a proper catch and your dad would approve, but I’m not sure she'll say yes after what happened today.", you say sarcastically

"Oh you wound me so.", he sighs dramatically "Maybe I'll ask McGonagall with a flock of birds to impress her."

You laugh at that before wishing eachother goodnight.

You lie on your bed thinking about Theo and his proposal; about Finn and how stupid your crush feels. About how stupid boys make you feel, how you wish you had more experience with them, more confidence.

You wished you were one of those people who went out to get what they wanted, the ones who fought for themselves, didn’t sit around in the corners with a comfort blanket draped around their shoulders.

“Maybe this can help us both” he said

Would it honestly be that bad to pretend to be Theos girlfriends for a few months? 

You trusted him and knew he would never do anything to make you feel uncomfortable. Maybe you would have to set a couple of rules to be sure there would be no misunderstandings, but things could work out.

You quickly got dressed the next day and found him eating breakfast alone; like he did every morning, being the first of his friends to wake up this early.

You sat across from him and begun putting fruit and pastries on your plate while he filled your coffee cup; another habit of his.

“I will do it”, you said calmly

His eyes shot up at yours and before he could say anything you let out a hiss of pain and stared at the coffee spilling from the overflowing cup to your hands and plate.

“But-“ you continued more serious now “we need to set up a few rules.”

“I love rules” he replied while drying your hands with a napkin and then switching your plates so he got the drenched-in-coffee one.

"Okay well, firstly I would appreciate it if this arrangement stayed between the two of us- I am not exactly thrilled to be mocked by the whole Slytherin house for the rest of the school year.", you said looking him in the eye

“Easy- done”, he exclaimed “You have to come with me to a Ball and meet my father.”

“I- you should know it will be very awkward”, you said apologetically

“No need to worry, it will take no more than ten minutes, he isn’t a people person, I just need him to believe that I am dating you.”, he explained quickly.

"Fine, I guess, but after we end this won’t he keep on pressuring you? We can’t keep this on forever you know.", you said

"Well, of course not; I just need him to get off my back until we graduate, then I can be free of him."

"Okay then, do we need to pretend at school? Your father won’t be here to see us.", you asked

"Yes, but the children of his friends will be and then he’ll find out Slytherins are terrible gossipers, you know.", he joked

"Fine okay, but we won’t do anything extreme", you said with a serious tone

"Not unless you ask me", he said grinning like the devil (wink wink)

You throw him a blueberry and he laughs before he picks it up and eats it

"What about you and loverboy? How do you want us to approach it?", he asked

Us rolls off his tongue way too easily, you think and feel a flutter in your stomach as you play it back

"Well , I haven’t thought about that, I am not sure I want to do anything really, I just want to forget it even happened.", you awkwardly say

"What 'happened', your feelings? It isn’t exactly something you can control .", he joked

"Don’t be ridiculous. Of course it is; if you are reasonable and smart." you say looking him in the eyes "Anyways, I got too distracted from the constant what if but now I have something else to focus on." you continue

"I can assure you I'll be the best fake girlfriend there is" , you say and smile

"It is a deal then.", he says extending his hand

"Yes.", you say shaking his hand this time.

The pretending started slowly, small touches in front of other students in the library, the Great Hall and on quidditch matches.

Spending weekends at Hogsmeade together, sharing butterbeer and going for walks with his arm behind your back or hands clasped together.

He would lend you his sweater and you would lend him your scarf, the one with your house colors.

He pretended he smelled you in his Amortentia and made a spectacle out of it in class; leaving you a blushing mess.

Eventually the Ministry planned a Ball; and you dreaded every second leading to it.

Theo helped you pick out a gown for it and walked you through the experience of a "Ministry party for the Miserable", as he called them

"Most of them will be boring themselves with talks about work; others will be drinking their boredom away and then there will be dancing. It will be over before you realize it, truly", he calmed you down

You agreed to meet him at the venue and you found him by the door playing with his wand while waiting for you.

"Some boyfriend you are-", you joked and his head immediately shot up to look at you "Making me come here alone, not walking me from the car, what will everyone say?", you said smiling and looped your arms around his, while he stared at you.

"My fair lady you have to forgive me, I will make it up to you." he shook his head and lead you both inside.

He spotted his father quickly and walked towards him. You felt terrified, couldn't exactly understand how a man sweet and kind; alive like Theo could have come from a man like his father.

He looked cold and mean and from what Theo had told you about him he was.

"Father" Theo said in a voice reserved just for his father and introduced you to him.

"I am sure you are familiar with her parents; they have an active role in the Wizarding community.", he said

You smiled at that; at his Slytheirn traits showing up when he needed them most.

"Ah yes, I remember your father in our Charity event a few months back.", he said with his strict voice, "I just wish Theodore would have bothered to tell me back then you two knew eachother."

You smile awkwardly and look at Theo who gives you a tired look.

"As I understand you are seeing eachother; how long has that been going on?", he asks

"A few months; but we have been friends for a few years now", you reply as calm as you can

"And what are your plans for after you graduate? Theo is going to work in the Ministry, I have friends in departments that can show him the ropes", he questions and you try to picture Theo in a Ministry 9-5 job and think it is just wrong.

"Well I am not sure yet; I was hoping to continue my studies and maybe get a master in Potions or Transfiguration. Passing NEWTs is the only thing on my mind right now.", you explain nervously

"Right. Well excuse me, I have to greet a few friends.", he says and leaves the two of you alone, once again.

You both leave out a breath you have been holding for a while.

"Didn't go that bad, right?", you ask

"No, uh it went fine.", he says with a troubled look, "Do you mind if we go outside?"

"Not at all, come on.", you say with a comforting voice and let him lead you outside.

You find a quiet place in the garden away from everyone. Finding company in the stars and each other.

"I hate him", Theo breathes and you don't know what to say back, how to comfort him.

So you take his hand in yours and hold it tightly.

"I am not taking the job at the Ministry, I won't.", he said

"What do you want to do?", you encourage him

He shakes his head before he answers.

"Slughorn offered to write me a recommendation letter, so I can study where he did. If I do well on the exams",

"But my father doesn't care about what I want, has not even bothered to find out.", he scoffs

"Well he can sod right off, respectfully, because he scares me." you say and he laughs

"You'll do great, you are so smart Theo, everything will work out, I am sure of it.", you say holding his hand

"Thank you.", he says smiling, "for everything."

You spend the rest of the night talking about life and the future, with your head on his shoulder and his thumb drawing circles in your hand.

As the school year progressed stress and anxiety were starting to get the best of everyone. Students were either practicing for a quidditch match or studying in the library.

That is why a few Gryffindors decided to host a party, to take a break from studying and celebrate the success that would surely be coming; "very Gryffindor of them" commented Theo.

While getting ready for the party you realized this would be the last time everyone would be having fun together and you felt nostalgia crash on you like the waves that destroy rocks.

What happens after school? You think.

Will you lose your friends? Will you lose Theo? Where will you go? What will you do?

There are questions you don’t know how to answer and that scares you.

Then your mind drifts to Finn and how you never did anything to get close to him no matter how much you liked him; liked because now he is a thing of the past, thanks to Theo you think, who took your mind off of him, kept you company.

Maybe, you think, faking a relationship with Theo made something deep inside you think that it wasn’t pretend. That Theo liked you more than a friend and that maybe you did too.

Did or do?, you think

Did, definitely did. Theo will get a masters in Potions somewhere and you will have to find your place in this world. Liking Theo isn’t something that should be happening right now- or ever with his terrifying dictator of a dad.

You laugh as you picture family holidays with the Notts.

“Knock knock”

You snap out of your thoughts and turn to find Theo leaning on your door, with his hands in his pockets .

“Ready?” He asks

You nod and he extends his hand “After you my lady”

“Shut up” you laugh as you let him hold you

Ronald Weasley waits for you by the portrait of the Fat Lady and lets you inside.

Everyone is dancing, snogging, drinking or doing all of those things together.

"I am going to get us drinks." shouts Theo and you give him a thumbs up as you walk into the crowd, trying to find some familiar face.

Suddenly you feel a hand on your shoulder and see Finn smiling at you.

"Hi!" you beam at him

"Finally decided to let yourself have fun?", he asks playfully

"What do you mean?", you ask

"Well I haven't seen you in a party since you and Nott became a thing, come to think of it, before that you two would always find a quiet corner and stay there together.", he says

Before you get the chance to reply you feel an arm snake around your waist and Theos scent fills your lungs.

"Here you go, love" he says and hands you your drink "Finn, how are you mate?"

"I am fine Nott, preparing for Quidditch finals, nervous about the NEWTs?"

"Obviously, but what can I do besides studying?", he responds.

Awkward silence lays between the three of you. You cant wait to laugh with Theo about it, once Finn leaves.

"You are lucky your girlfriend is such a good listener. I remember once she let me explain the Star Wars films to her without falling asleep or complaining.", he said laughing

"How do you even remember that, it was ages ago", you say surprised

"You would be surprised. Now if you will excuse me, I need a refill."

You watched Finn leave and turned to see Theo looking at you with a calculating look.

"Looks like loverboy is back", he said

"Stop" you say and drag him with you to greet your friends and dance.

After a few hours you both decided you had enough social interactions for one night, so you decided to go back to your dorms.

As you were leaving you spotted Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley, laughing and kissing eachother before disappearing into a broom closet together.

“Ah broom closets; the perfect shagging spot”, joked Theo

“What, you..” you stammer “in a…”

“Shagged in a closet? Yes”, he said smirking at your awkwardness

“Right” you replied

“What, you haven’t?" he asks and you shake your head

“Not even for a dare?”, he continued

“No, Theo I haven’t.” you say annoyed

He laughs and says “Don’t worry you aren’t missing much. Besides, the best shagging spot is the restricted section.”

“You are impossible.” , you say to him as you walk together side by side

“I am joking, nothing tops the comforts of a bed.”, he says jokingly

You remain quiet, I wouldn’t know, you think to yourself.

“Wait” he says “-have you ever?”

“Have I what?” You say annoyed

“Been with someone” he asks

“I, well, have you seen me date anyone, all these years we have been friends?”

“No, but you also never told me you like Finn, so how would I know what else you keep to yourself. "

“Liked, Theo, and can we please forget about that?”, you plead

“Alright I am sorry” he answers raising his hands

“Do you think it is weird I haven’t been with anyone? Yet?” You ask nervously

“Weird? No of course not, why?”

“Well you sounded very surprised, that is all”, you say

“No it isn’t weird, but if you want me to show you what it is like I-”, he said slowly

You hit his arm and cut him off “Shut up, honestly, you can sometimes be so annoying!”

He laughed and said “Sorry”

You continue walking without saying anything before he breaks the silence.

“I think he likes you”

“Nonsense, he talks to everyone”, you say while rolling your eyes

“Well then, he is an idiot”, he responds with a serious tone

You shake your head and laugh

“He really is”, he says again

And as you look up at him you see his eyes deeply focused on yours. The look on his face: something entirely new to you. Up until now you always thought Theodore Nott had shown you his real self, almost every part of him; but the way he looks at you now proves how wrong you have been.

His cheeks are flushed and you are sure if you were to touch him he’d burn you. His usual smirk is nowhere to be found; his lips are relaxed and asking for something; as if they have a mind of their own. His eyes are wandering over your features, not calculating but admiring.

His hand flies up to fix a strand of hair that has fallen in front of your face and gently places it behind your ear.

You look at his lips and at him, lost and surprised.

See you tomorrow, he whispers and before you get the chance to respond he walks away to his dorm.

What happened? you think for the rest of the night

Had you grown closer to Theo these past few months, without meaning to?

Had your feelings shifted and if yes when did that happen?

You felt empty as you woke up the next day. Did you feel for Theo what you had felt for Finn once? A made up scenario showing you what could have been?

No, you knew Theo, the version of him inside your head was the one that already existed.

He is kind and smart; he cares about you, always have; even before this agreement.

He always makes sure you feel safe, never pushes things too far. 

What he said last night, the way he looked at you sends butterflies to your stomach. Would it be that ridiculous of you to think he has feelings for you? 

And if he does have feelings for you, how do you feel about him? 

Is he a friend or something more?

Have you just grown used to the attention he gives you? The pretending and faking.

Or do you want-need it to be real.

You will ruin everything and that scares you.

This is too much thinking before coffee, you think and head to the Great Hall.

You find him then with a mug in one hand and a book in the other, once he sees you he smiles, innocently, not a smirk; a greeting.

And that is enough for you to break down your walls, leave your fears behind.

You want him to smile at you; only you every time he sees you. You want to be with him, not only in front of others, always.

You want to tell him I love you and you also want to hear it from him. You want him to tell you his dreams and encourage yours. You want to spend every night with him and wake up in his arms. You want him to show you what it is like to be cared for, truly.

And that desire is enough for you to shed your fears away, because even if things go bad, at least you've tried; fighted.

"Goodmorning", he says as you take the seat next to him.

You smile at him "Goodmorning"

He fills your mug with coffee like he always does

"I don't want to keep pretending to be your girlfriend.", you say

His face darkens and his smile disappears, "Is it about last night? Did I make you feel uncomfortable, I-"

"I can't keep pretending.", you continue "If you want to be with me we have to stop pretending, I want to be with you for real."

"I-" he is speechless now, playing what you said over and over in his head.

"I am in love with you. And it is okay if you aren't, but I had to tell you. I can't fake it anymore.", you confess

He smiles now and grabs your face to kiss you before whispering in your lips, "Who said I was pretending?"

fin

dividers by the wonderful @saradika

not proofread, sorry for mistakes

#theodore nott #fake dating #Theodore Nott x reader #Theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x y/n #theo nott #harry potter fanfiction

[brabblesblog]

I hope you die screaming.

One-shot, angst/comfort, astarion/f!tav

After you refuse to help Astarion ascend, he leaves you with a venomous goodbye. Unfortunately the vampire has to come back to get his things.

The idea was to mix up the warding bond rings, Astarion’s final words if you refuse to help him, and Tav suffering and dying (not permanently!) in his absence.

Read on AO3.

Masterlist.

It had been a miserable few days of being alone in Baldur’s Gate, without most of his possessions, but Astarion was loathe to go back to the Elfsong. For one, he wasn’t sure exactly what he’d be there to do. To grab his things and go? A possibility, but not what he would rather do. To get on his knees and ask you to take him back? What he really wanted to do, but the chance of you forgiving him was slim, and he couldn’t face that rejection. So he stayed near the tavern, torn between showing himself and walking away yet again, when the ring on his finger pulsed with a strange magic and the ward protecting him dissipated from his body.

He had known you were still protecting him through the paired rings even as he stormed out of Cazador’s palace. The soft, pleasant feeling of the ward had not disappeared at all, and it had proven quite useful once or twice when he inadvertently offended someone enough for them to attempt to stab him. He didn’t get a lot of injuries - only minor cuts and scrapes - so as much as he felt guilty he figured you would be more than capable of handling it. In any case, should you want, you could just take off the rings, he reasoned.

So when the ward fell away right now, he huffed a bit and took the ring off. You must’ve finally remembered he had the other one, and there was no longer any point protecting him, after everything.

After what he said.

He entered the tavern and sat in a corner, waiting for your group to come back. He’d decided to come get his things. Without the ward’s protection, he would need his potions and armor to survive solo.

Soon enough, the door burst open and Gale came stumbling in. The gore and blood on his robes was normal enough, but his expression wasn’t. The man looked ashen and pale, and he immediately ran to the stairs. “Shadowheart! Come here. Now!”

Before the vampire could even put down the goblet he was holding, Halsin came in, something bundled in his arms. The air that wafted through hit Astarion, and he almost choked on it: blood. Your blood. A lot of it. He watched with wide eyes as Halsin carried the bloody bundle in his arms. It was a body, that much was obvious, but they had wrapped it in blankets. The fabric was stained everywhere, but it pooled the most where the chest would be. Halsin dipped his head and gently placed a kiss on the head of the body, and as he did so the blanket covering the face fell away. Astarion’s heart, if he still had one, would have stopped as he saw the face underneath the blankets. Yours.

He immediately stood up, heading towards Halsin. The larger elf saw him and let him approach, his expression one of sorrow.

“Halsin? What- is she…” he closes the distance. Your eyes are closed, as if you were sleeping. He knows it, knows he can’t hear your heartbeat and can’t see you breathe, but he still reaches out to cup your cheek. Cold, as cold as his hands were. He chokes back a scream that threatens to bubble from his throat.

Halsin moves, slowly climbing the stairs. “Come, Astarion. I shall explain.” As he made his way to your bed, he talked. “She hasn’t been well since your departure, but that is to be expected. We had a fight with the Steel Watch. She was a little too slow, too tired, and they won.”

Astarion growls. “You should all have protected her! Did you all cower when-“

“No.” Halsin rounds on him, eyes glinting with what was almost like anger. “We all have our injuries. We all tried our best. We weren’t the ones who left her.”

He laid you down on your bed, grabbing a wet cloth to clean your wounds. Astarion gripped the elf’s wrist. “Why aren’t you using a scroll to revive her?!”

He sighed. “You might not remember, Astarion, but the scrolls were all in your bag when you left.”

Shit. He had forgotten. He quickly rummaged through it, finding one. He saw Shadowheart approach and asked her for some healing potions as well. While everyone was preparing, Halsin kept cleaning your body up. Astarion scowled and grabbed his own wet towel, gently trying to clean around the hole in your chest. He winced at the amount of blood he saw as he tried to peel off the bloody shirt, then paused as he realized it was his camp shirt. Biting back the urge to scream, he kept working.

Shadowheart came back with several bottles of the potion, and they got to work. Halsin used the scroll, and as he did the vampire began pouring the potions down your throat. It didn’t take long for him to hear your heart start to beat again, and he exhaled roughly as he poured more bottles, just to be sure. He watched the color flood back into your face as you healed, unable to stop some tears from falling.

A hand gripped his shoulder and he turned to see Gale. The wizard sighed. “I’m surprised to see you here,” he said dryly. “Seems like you got your wish,” he said bitterly, gesturing to you.

Astarion bared his fangs and got up, ready to tear him from limb to limb. Halsin barely had enough time to stand between the two men. “There is no point to fighting each other. What’s done is done. And she’s doing better now.”

Gale sighed. He nodded at Halsin, then at Astarion. “I suppose the druid is right. You’ll still have some explaining to do, but it can wait.” He leaves to see Shadowheart to tend to his own injuries. After a moment, so does Halsin, squeezing Astarion’s hand in solidarity as he left.

Astarion continues his ministrations, weeping openly now that no one was here. He leaned forward, kissing your forehead. When you were clean, he puts you in your nightclothes, then wraps you up in his blankets. It doesn’t escape his notice that you’ve moved into his bed, his things still there, as though you were waiting for his return. He sleeps there that night, wraps himself around you, the sound of your soft breathing something he sorely missed.

You wake up a few hours later. Your head pounds, but when you open your eyes, it is blessedly dark. The last thing you remember was a steel watch monstrosity’s blade coming straight through you. You take a breath, nuzzling the blankets. They still smell like him, and you worry that soon the smell will fade. Then there would be nothing left of the man you loved. Well, other than his clothes-

Wait. His clothes. You run a hand down your chest, wincing at the movement. You realize you’re in your own camp clothes. It must’ve been torn in the fight, ruined by the gore. A soft cry escapes your lips. It felt all too much like losing him again. You whimper, helpless. Every movement was pain, but the most painful thing even now was your heart.

You suddenly realize you’re not alone on the bed. An arm sweeps across, wrapping securely around your waist. Someone nuzzles you, shushing your cries. In the darkness you can barely see, but the scent and the temperature of said arm hits you.

“As-Astarion?”

He swallows nervously. “Darling. I… I’m here.” He can see your face in the dark, eyes wide and afraid, and then a glimmer of hope as you realize who he is.

“You came back,” you manage to croak out. Your hand finds his, and he squeezes it tightly.

“I did. I-“ the happiness in your face stuns him. You should hate him. He doesn’t deserve to be welcomed back with such open arms.

“I was in the Elfsong to gather my things.” Before you could get the wrong idea and get hurt, he pushes on. “But I think I knew even as I walked in I’d be here to beg you to let me stay.”

“There’s no need to even ask, love.” Your hand moves to his hand, feeling for the ring. It isn’t there, and you feel a small pang of sadness. “You took it off.”

“Only today,” he says. “The wards fell. I thought you got rid of it, but your ring is still on your finger. I guess it just stopped working when you-“ he swallows past the lump in his thoat. “You- you know.” He couldn’t bring himself to say it.

Noticing his distress, you move your other hand to cup his cheek. “I’m sorry you had to see this. I got clumsy. I was… I wasn’t at my best.” You look away, embarrassed to admit how much you missed him.

“Darling. No,” he turns your cheek to meet his gaze. “I left you. I broke your heart. All because I was too afraid to see the right path to take. And I wished… I said terrible things. I would take it back, all of it back. I regretted it as soon as I left the dungeons. But I didn’t think you’d let me back in. If I stayed, maybe you’d be alright. You’d be-“

His words are broken by soft lips that press against his. It was tender, and he couldn’t help but lean into it, kissing back carefully and gently. More tears fell from him, and you thumbed them away. Pulling back, you offer him a kind smile. “I forgave you as you left, love. I get it. It’s just that I missed you a lot.”

“I missed you too.” With those words Astarion finally breaks down, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. He didn’t deserve such tenderness, such love, after what he did. He vowed to do better with your heart, to give what you deserve as well. Not for any other reason than that he wanted to.

He meets your eyes, and he finally lets the words that had been sitting in his chest for ages out. “I love you. I have loved you for a while, darling, I just didn’t know how. I’m not good at this, obviously. I choose the wrong words, do the wrong things, and you still let me back in.”

You chuckle a bit, hands carding through his hair. “That’s because I love you too, idiot.”

You’ve told him that for some time now, accepting that he couldn’t say the same yet. But every time you say it his heart still soars. He captures your lips in yet another kiss.

“Forgive me?”

“Of course. You’ll have to put your ring back on, though. Maybe when I’m more healed, on second thought.”

You bite your lip, frowning.

“Oh. And I might have ruined your camp shirt. Could you fix it for me? Please?”

He puts on a show of pouting and sighing. “If I must. What would you do without me, hm?”

You roll your eyes and tug him close to you. All too quickly, you drift off, finally having a good night’s rest. He watches your face become peaceful, noting the huge bags under your eyes.

Astarion holds you through the night, vowing to never leave your side ever again.

#astarion #astarion baldurs gate #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 #astarion fic #astarion x mc #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #pale elf #astarion ancunin #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #bg3 tav #bg3 spoilers #baldurs gate tav #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate

[explorevenus]

addicted ♡ re2r!leon kennedy x reader

nsfw (18+) - minors dni or i will call the cops

word count - 2.9k

description - by the end of the summer, you're bound for college and your boyfriend leon is bound for his shiny new police officer job in raccoon city. knowing your relationship could be threatened by the distance, your need for each other has become insatiable.

tags/warnings - porn with plot, soft dom leon, car sex, cunnilingus (f receiving), fingering, p in v, creampie, breeding kink, mildly angsty, no use of (Y/N)

a/n - this was a request by my beautiful goth puppy wife chaos baby @nexysworld <333 special thanks to @dollfacefantasy for beta reading and believing in me and also being my momager <3

recommended listening - addicted by saving abel

my masterlist ♡

my ao3 ♡

thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ;w; <3

-venus ♡

Young adulthood felt so scary and new and weird.

You and Leon had been dating since high school and now you were fully legal adults, figuring out what to do with your lives and pretending you would both fit together seamlessly in each other’s plans. Just weeks ago he had graduated from the police academy and you had until the end of the summer to spend as much time together as possible before he would move into the city to become an officer, and you would be moving states away to attend college.

You told each other you would visit as often as possible, that you would call every day, that as soon as you finished school you would move back to Raccoon City to be with him, or he would find a hiring police station near you to settle into, and you would live happily ever after.

But there was a silent, knowing melancholy that hung over you all the while, and it intensified every day. Neither of you wanted to address it, for fear of spoiling what little time you had left, so it just hung there unspoken as you clung to each other for dear life.

Leon knocked quietly on your door, hoping not to wake your roommates. It was a crisp, clear summer evening and the forecast indicated a meteor shower would be visible, so as soon as he finished up at work, he took the top off of his Jeep, loaded the back with blankets and made his way to you.

His heart softened at the image of you wrapped in a blanket, ducking out of your apartment to follow him out to the car. It was nearing midnight and you were already in pajamas, but it felt right that way. Comfortable. 

Soon enough you were sipping slushies from the gas station, your sneakers kicked up on the dashboard and the wind rushing through your hair as Leon drove the two of you up the base of the Arklay Mountains. There was a little lookout tucked away less than five miles up, one you frequented together practically since you met. This lookout had seen numerous makeouts and unquantifiable hours of conversation, silly and stupid and serious and solemn.

The car slowed to a stop and Leon threw it in park, moving his seat back so he could get comfortable. His lips were stained pink with cherry slush as he looked over to you with a gentle smile.

“Pretty, huh?” He asked, watching as you stared up at the sky, awe-filled eyes searching every gap in the void for a shooting star. His warm, broad hand still rested on your thigh, thumb skimming over the soft fabric of your sweatpants in a gentle caress. 

Relaxing into his touch, you nodded, looking over at him now. Your own lips and tongue were tinted blue and what remained of your slushie was cold in the palm of your hand. It was funny, you thought, that you’d driven all the way out here to watch the meteor shower but still, you couldn’t help but watch each other. The breeze blew warm and the radio played lowly.

“You’re pretty,” You replied quietly, playing with his fingers. Even having been together for years, he still managed to make you shy.

Leon let out a soft laugh and shook his head, his other hand coming forward to tip your chin up. “You’re pretty too,” He began, and you were just beginning to blush when he added, “Pretty corny.”

You threw your head back and groaned dramatically, swatting at his chest. “You’re pretty annoying,” You griped, but before you could continue your playful rant, he guided you back toward him and pressed his lips against your own, and just like always, you melted almost instantaneously. 

At the start the kiss was quite tender, communicating a sense of longing and connection that you had only ever felt with him. His thumb traced your jaw while his grip tightened on your thigh in an affectionate little squeeze and you felt as though you could sit here with him forever, craning your neck over the center console of his Jeep just to kiss him beneath the stars, just to breathe him in, to be with him. Leon was your safe place and even the thought of being away from him sent you into withdrawals.

Your shaking hand came up to cradle the back of his neck, fingers curling into his golden hair as you took it upon yourself to deepen the kiss, wanting to get as much of him as you could. You wanted to horde him all to yourself, you wanted to sink into him and have him sink into you, to pause time and keep him there until you were sick of each other, though you knew no length of time together would ever feel like enough. Tongue swiping against his lower lip, you flattened your palm over the crotch of his jeans and massaged gently.

“F-Fuck, baby,” Leon grunted into your mouth, feeling all the blood rush to his cock in response to your touch and your languid kisses. “I’m gonna miss this…”

“Don’t,” You whispered, “I don’t wanna talk about it… Just wanna feel you…”

With a short nod of understanding he reconnected your lips, sliding his hand beneath the waistband of your sweatpants to dip a finger into your folds, delighted at the realization that you had gone without panties for the evening. He grinned into the kiss and slipped his tongue past you, the pads of his fingers quickly finding your clit with practiced ease.

Your lashes fluttered and your thighs shifted together, a quiet mewl of pleasure tumbling from you as you bucked up into his hand. With each passing second your heart was beating faster and you could feel the wetness collecting beneath his touch.

“Mm, my pretty baby,” He sighed out, the pad of his thumb flicking at your clit while his middle and index fingers petted at your hole. “Put your seat back. Let me taste you.”

There wasn’t a beat of hesitation as you reached down to recline your seat and push it back, and as you did so, Leon was making quick work of climbing over the center console to join you in the passenger seat. He gripped your thighs and pushed your legs up to rest on the dashboard as he yanked your sweatpants down in one swift motion, wasting no time smothering your plush inner thighs with kisses.

His pupils dilated by the scent of your cunt alone, and while he initially planned on taking his time with you, he just couldn’t help himself. Cramped down on the floor of his own passenger seat, Leon’s fingertips printed into your thighs as he dove forward to kiss and lap at your wetness, drinking you up with a deep, wanton need. 

You tensed at the feeling, glittery heat washing over you before you relaxed into his mouth and brought one hand down to tug at his hair, encouraging him further. Your hazy eyes blinked open to look straight up at the sky, the cool night air foreign on your most intimate parts, but not unwelcome. It was quiet out, serene, private, as though you and Leon were the last two people on Earth. A shooting star cast across the sky in a blur, and you quickly realized that your wish was for you and Leon to be the last two people on Earth. Maybe that would be nice. At least your time together wouldn’t be so limited.

Losing Leon felt like losing a limb, even if he was only moving a few hours away to the other side of the mountain. Another shooting star streaked across the night sky, and you barely even noticed you had said something until you already finished speaking, “I wish you could stay… I feel like I can’t breathe without you…”

He hummed into your slick pussy, tongue swirling over your bud before pulling back just far enough to respond, “Not talking about it, baby, remember?”

Your face scrunched up a little bit as you realized your mistake and nodded, returning your focus to the glittering stars above you while your boyfriend sucked and licked at your cunt like he was starving. Soon enough his middle and index fingers were prodding at your hole, tracing the shape of you before sinking deep into your sticky, wet heat, your needy walls sucking him in.

What you didn’t know was that Leon had been focusing so much pleasure on you over the summer because it felt like making up for what he wouldn’t be able to do from thousands of miles away in the fall. You were the only thing he could bring himself to think about since roughly halfway to graduation at the police academy, when he was beginning to pester Raccoon City Police Department with his exemplary test scores and ever-growing resume– by the end of the year you would have both gone so far in separate directions, and long distance wasn’t something you ever excelled at. He knew that the day he left for Raccoon City, he would be effectively nailing the coffin shut.

So he bided his time by fucking you senseless almost daily, eating you out, pinning you down and driving you to tears with your toys, feeling every inch of you beneath his hands just so he wouldn’t forget. Every moan, every mewl, every whimper and sob and plea from you was like music to his ears, like pure heroin directly to the vein. Just like a drug, the better it felt in the moment, the more he knew it would hurt you both later on.

He felt you bucking into his nose and whining quietly, and every twitch of your muscles made his cock throb in his jeans. Leon couldn’t take it anymore, he needed you now.

Pulling back from your core, Leon moved quickly to undo his belt and shove his jeans down his thighs, desperate for some relief from the pressure and intoxicating desire. He was already dribbling precum just from the taste of you, a distinct wet patch growing at the front of his soft blue boxers that soon joined his pants down his legs, and shortly thereafter he was clumsily crawling over you in the passenger seat of his Jeep.

Almost like muscle memory, your arm fell behind you in a blind search for your purse in the back seat. You quickly retrieved it, digging through its contents as Leon’s hands shoved their way up your shirt to paw at your breasts, devouring your throat with kisses, making it a little difficult to maintain your focus. Finally you found what you were looking for, fingers coming into contact with that trusty little box… only to find it empty.

“L-Leon… mm, babe, hey,” You panted in an attempt to gather his attention. He hummed a barely noticeable sound of acknowledgment, but otherwise didn’t budge. You let him continue for a lingering second before breaking the news in a near whisper, “Leon, we’re out of condoms…”

He paused, breaths short and hips rutting into your own with need, his woefully hard cock grinding against your slit. While his body acted on its own in search of any friction he could get, his mind was spinning. He knew you weren’t on birth control and he knew a risk like this could ruin everything you’d both worked so hard for… but for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

In fact, it sort of spurred him on.

He buried his face into your neck again and sucked a harsh, dark mark into your skin, a feeling of possessiveness taking root in him. “Then we’re gonna risk it,” He said definitively, his voice low and almost growling in your ear. “Just think about it, sweetheart… Maybe if you let me knock you up, you can forget all about college… I could just whisk you away to the city with me and take care of you for the rest of our lives…”

A rush of heat struck you like a moving car and knocked the air out of your lungs. You knew it would be stupid to throw away your scholarships and every dream you’d had for yourself on a whim, but it was admittedly a nice fantasy at the very least. Arching into the palm of his hand, you relented.

“F-Fuck, fuck… Fuck me, Leon, please, just fuck me…”

And just as you anticipated, he took you up on that. A cool breeze rushed through the open vehicle as he lined himself up at your hole and drove into you, his vision going white for a second just at the intensity of the pleasure he felt, being engulfed by you again. Your body was heaven on Earth to him, you were heaven on Earth to him. 

He sheathed into you down to the hilt with a low groan, one hand clutching your hip and the other tangled in your hair. Leon tugged your head aside by your hair so he could speak directly into your ear, “You’re mine, you hear me? All mine. My girl, my wife, my pretty little baby mama…”

Each declaration was punctuated by a thrust of the hips, his swollen, leaking cock stuffed so deeply inside you that it was almost like you could feel him in your throat. Any and all concerns about your future, individually and as a couple, burned to ash in the far back of your mind as he fucked into with fervor. In this moment, Leon was all that mattered.

You quivered and writhed beneath him, your gummy insides pulsing and clenching around his length, and even with the top off the Jeep, the windows were beginning to accumulate a subtle fog on them. The two of you were hot and slick with sweat, drowning in the heat of each other and the late summer air.

“Leon,” You moaned, nails biting into his shoulders as you clung to him for dear life, for any shred of stability. “Make me yours…”

At this point, you couldn’t even tell if you were serious, and similarly to Leon, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You were drunk on him and everything about him, the warmth of his skin, the pheromones that clung to his sweat, the strong grip of his hands and the sound of his breaths and the feeling of him railing into you like you were made for each other. 

“Plannin’ on it, baby,” He said in response, words breathy and a smug grin tugging at his lips. He let go of your hair to plant his hand against the window as he increased his pace, plunging into you with ardor, his balls heavy and aching for release. “Gonna keep you all to myself, give you everything you ever wanted.”

The hand of his that was holding your hip just a moment ago was now wedging itself down between you to rub steady circles into your clit. You jolted at the contact, an incoherent cry tumbling from you, molten heat pooling up in your stomach. His earlier ministrations left both him and you especially sensitive and nearing your climaxes.

He could feel your peak approaching through the way you were convulsing around him, your wet cunt tightening and pulling him deeper with each stroke until he couldn’t even think anymore. Every last one of his senses was clouded– no, drenched with you. His pace stuttered just a little bit as he decided he couldn’t possibly hold back any longer.

With a loud, pleasured groan of your name, Leon stilled inside you as a torrent of cum flooded your waiting womb, warming you from the inside. What finally pushed you over the edge into your own release was Leon’s sly fingers tugging and pinching at your bud with expertise.

“G-God, fuck,” You sobbed, breaking skin as your nails raked down his strong back and gripped him as close to you as you could manage. Tears were pricking at your eyes as you coated his cock with your release, leaving behind a creamy white ring of arousal at the base of his softening sex.

Silence fell over the car as you clung to each other, broken only by your gasping breaths for oxygen. Leon buried his face into your shoulder and kissed the sizable hickie he’d left you earlier, still fresh and stinging.

“Did so good for me,” He huffed into your ear, nibbling at your lobe. “I can’t get enough of you.”

Eventually he pulled out, a sticky mixture of your juices dribbling out of your spent hole and down to the leather seat below you. As Leon climbed less than gracefully out of the passenger seat with his pants around his knees, you were both startled by the unexpected sight of headlights traveling up the very same mountain road that led you here, and the vehicle was pulling into the lookout.

“Shit,” Leon grumbled, rushing to fix his pants and toss you a blanket from the back seat to cover up with, given your sweatpants were lost somewhere on the floor of the car.

The intruding vehicle pulled up right behind Leon’s Jeep, headlights shining into the cabin as a person got out of the driver’s side… with a flashlight. Of course it had to be a cop.

Leon took a deep breath before rolling his window down with a polite smile. “Evening, officer… Nice night, isn’t it?”

#venustext #sintext #summit of beauty and love #resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x you #nexy !!!