#I will now proceed to thinking about my husband for the rest of the night <3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

percyluvr · 3 months ago

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sam winchester x fem!witch!reader summary: you're unaware of your witchy heritage, or even the existence of the supernatural, until two hunters come waltzing into your life claiming that you and your mother are witches wc: 9802 warning: pre-bunker era supernatural, violence (not a lot but enough to warrant a warning, i think), not proofread dedicated to my only (i think) pjo + spn moot, skye

“You’re up early, Sammy,” Dean says, looking into the doorway at his brother wiping sweat off his forehead. “And sweaty.”

“Yeah, I went for a jog. You should try it, it’s good for you. Plus, it’s nice outside.”

“Right, no thank you. Sleep is essential to keep looking this good.”

“Alright, man, if you say so,” Sam replies, disgust apparent on his face.

“Whatever. Listen to this,” Dean starts. “A middle-aged woman in Tupelo, Mississippi, was found dead last night with all of her teeth missing, and some freaky ass carving of some horned thing on her chest. Her husband came home and found her lying on the bathroom floor. Apparently she didn’t die until after she made it to the hospital, though, so whoever or whatever did this wanted it to be long and painful.”

“Huh. Sounds creepy.”

“Exactly. So what do you think? Our kind of gig?” Dean asks, fully knowing they were going to go find out either way.

“Yeah, definitely. Y’wanna head out now or get something to eat?”

“I’m hungry as hell. I need a burger before we deal with this.”

“I feel you. Well, not the burger part, but I’m definitely gonna need food before we head out.”

“Let’s hit the town then, see what there is to eat here,” Dean says, grabbing his jacket and shrugging it over his shoulders before walking out the door, Sam following after grabbing his laptop and jacket of his own.

****

After driving for a bit, they find a small, semi-trashy diner.

"I can't believe this is the only decent looking place in this whole town," Dean complains.

"I mean, what do you expect? We're in a town with a population below three thousand."

"Right. The food better be good or else I'll be pissed. Give me that menu," he grumpily demanded.

"Their salad looks good."

"Yeah, real funny. I'm gonna get that special edition deluxe baconator," Dean said excitedly, mood immediately improving at the sight of a greasy burger on the menu.

Sam makes a face, about to say something, but is interrupted by the waitress arriving at the table.

"You boys ready to order or do you need more time?" She asks, eyeing Dean.

"Oh, we're ready," Dean flirts.

Sam rolls his eyes. "I'll get the, uh, shake it up salad."

"Okay, and for you?" She asks Dean.

"I'll get that deluxe baconator."

"Got it, I'll be back in a sec."

She starts walking away, Dean eyeing her every step of the way.

"Seriously, dude?" Sam asks in disgust.

"Yeah, look at her, dude. Tell me you don't want a piece of that."

"Alright, man, enough. As soon as we finish we're getting right out of here, no flirting."

"Whatever. Don't be jealous you never get laid."

Sam rolls his eyes as the waitress walks over with a salad in one hand and Dean's burger in the other.

"Thank you," Dean says, giving her a wink. Sam sighs exasperatedly for what feels like the six hundredth time today.

"You've got to stop that."

"Stop what? I'm just appreciating the beauties of the world."

"Yeah, I'm ignoring you now. Eat your food so we can go."

"Who died and made you boss?" Dean mutters.

Sam ignores him, and proceeds to wolf down his salad.

"Little hungry there?" Dean asks.

"Last time I checked, I was the one that went for a three mile jog this morning, not you, so I'll eat all I want, thanks."

"Just asking, don't get your panties in a twist."

"Whatever, I'm done eating."

Dean wolfs down the rest of his greasy, and in Sam's opinion, disgusting burger, managing to nearly choke on it twice, then stands up and walks toward the counter. He turns around and mouths 'getting her number,' and raises his eyebrows twice at Sam, who just rolls his eyes in response.

Sam shakes his head and walks out to the Impala, assuming that Dean is flirting, with a side of paying for their breakfast.

He opens the shiny black door of his brother's 1967 Chevy Impala and sits down on the beige seat, looking out the window at the diner. Moments later, the door opens and Sam sees Dean’s smug smile and a small piece of paper being waved around in the air.

When Dean sits down in his car, he immediately looks at Sam. “And that is how it’s done by a true master of charm,” he boasts, putting the key in the ignition and shifting to reverse.

“Good for you. I can get girls’ numbers too, y’know. I’m not celibate, or whatever crap you call me.”

“Sure, Sammy. Whatever makes you feel better. But if you really think you can get a girl’s number instead of me, you’re mistaken. So, whoever gets the number of the hottest girl wins.”

“That’s stupid, I’m not doing that.”

“We’ll see.”

“No, we won’t see. I’m focusing on the case.”

Sam sees Dean smirk in response as they pull out of the parking lot. He clenches his jaw in annoyance.

****

Halfway on the way to Tupelo, Sam asks, “So what do you think we’re looking at here? ‘S not everyday we work a job like this.”

“Honestly? No idea. Not a big fan of the carving on the chest, either. Never seen a symbol like that before.”

"Great," Sam grumbles, and for the rest of the car ride his thoughts were full of possibilities of what they could be hunting.

****

Four hours later, the Impala rolls into Tupelo, and the first building they see is a fairly decent looking motel, which they decide to spend the night in. After checking into the motel, they carry their bags into the room, immediately grabbing out their fake FBI badges and cheap costume suits.

After quickly changing, they head out to the Impala. “Ready to see every dentist’s nightmare?” Dean jokes.

“Actually, pretty sure that would be you. I can’t remember a day where you didn’t eat some kind of candy or tooth rotting food,” Sam says. “Or even brushed your teeth for that matter.”

“Dude, I brush my teeth.” Sam raises his eyebrow. “Sometimes.”

Sam scoffs. “Yeah, right. Your breath smells like a dead person.”

****

Dean parks the Impala in front of a white two-story house in some, as Dean says, stuffy suburban neighborhood. They get out of the car and walk over to the house, Sam knocking on the front door.

A man, the woman's husband, Sam assumes, opens the door.

“Mr. Feezerman, we'd like to talk to you about your wife,” Sam says, flashing his fake badge.

“Thank God the FBI is involved. The cops here have no idea what's going on. Come in,” Mr Feezerman says, gesturing for them to come in.

Dean sits down on the couch, leaving Sam standing next to it.

“Mr. Feezerman, do you mind if I use your bathroom?” Sam asks.

“Go right ahead. It’s upstairs, the second door on the left.”

“Thanks,” Sam says with a little nod of his head.

Upstairs in the bathroom, Sam searches through the drawers for a hex bag, but comes up empty. He moves onto checking the cabinet below the sink, but still nothing. He finally looks in the medicine cabinet and finds a small brown cloth tied together by a leather string.

"Damn it," he grumbles.

He grabs the bag and heads back downstairs after putting it in his pocket.

He reaches the bottom of the stairs and sees Dean turn to look at him. Sam gives him a nod indicating his search was successful.

"Alright, that's all, thank you, Mr. Feezerman," Dean says.

****

"Alright, so what are we thinking?" Dean asks.

"Well, based on the hex bag I found, I'm thinking witch. And not some beginner level witchcraft, either, dude. I'm talking ancient witchcraft, warts, wrinkles, and all."

"Awesome," Dean groans.

"Yeah. And I'm thinking it's not just one witch, either. Witches this strong usually form covens to protect themselves."

"Awesome times two," Dean says, furrowing his eyebrows and grimacing.

"Well, what did you get? She have any enemies?"

"Her husband said that her and some of the other prissy ladies were in some sort of book club or whatever he said, I wasn’t really listening. I was thinking about that waitress from before,” Dean says dreamily.

“Dude, focus.”

“Right, anyways. Apparently, he found out through some lady she was friends with that she was cheating on her husband with one of the other lady’s husbands. Say that five times fast.”

“Sounds complicated, but also like we have some clear suspects.”

“Right. The book club or wine club or whatever it is these trophy wives do with their free time.”

“Dude, chill with the ‘I hate cookie-cutter families’ thing.”

“My bad.”

“You wanna head to the morgue or talk to suspects?”

“I’ll go to the morgue, you talk to suspects. I can’t handle any more of these people.”

“Alright. Did you get any names or addresses?”

“Obviously. This isn’t my first hunt,” Dean says, rolling his eyes.

“Alright, man. Take me to the first house.”

****

When they reach the first house, Sam gets out of the car.

“Meet back here in 30?” Sam asks.

“Uhh, y’know what? I think I’ll come with.”

“What happened to not being able to handle any more of these people today?”

“Well that is one cougar just begging to be tamed,” Dean says, eyeing up the woman sitting on the porch.

“Disgusting, seriously.”

“Don’t hate the player.”

“Shut up.”

They walk up the pathway and up the stairs. When they reach the porch, the blonde woman gets up from her spot on the swing.

“Hello, boys, how can I help you?” She asks.

“FBI, we have a few questions about Amelia Feezerman,” Dean says, holding up his fake badge.

“Oh, dear. Come inside, then,” she says, leading them inside to the living room.

“So, nice place you got here,” Sam says.

“Oh, thank you,” she says, and before she can continue, Sam hears the pitter-patter of feet on the floor. “Honey, the cookies look delicious. Hopefully you two like chocolate chocolate chip.”

“Oh, I’m not really a sugar pers-“ Sam starts to say, but when he sees the woman standing in front of him, he quickly changes his mind. “But it doesn’t hurt occasionally.”

“Good, it’d be a shame if these cookies went to waste,” you say, winking at him.

“Like mother like daughter, damn,” Dean says under his breath.

Sam elbows him. “Knock it off,” he hissed.

“Before you two leave, let me know how the cookies are,” you say, gaze lingering on Sam before you walk out of the living room and back into the kitchen.

“We will,” Sam says, making ‘goo-goo eyes’, as Dean later calls them, at you.

“Dude, go in there and talk to her, I’ll talk to the mom here,” Dean says lowly to Sam, who nods in response and follows you into the kitchen.

The unfamiliar sound of footsteps prompts you to turn around, surprised to see the, in your opinion, cuter agent following you into the kitchen.

“Hello, agent,” you say with a grin.

“Hey, I’m Sam,” he shyly responds.

“Well, Sam, what did you think of the cookies?” You ask eagerly.

“They were really good. I’m really a sweets type of person, but you surprised me,” he compliments, the crinkling of his eyes serving as an effect of the wide smile gracing his face. You think that his smile makes him at least five times cuter, but you decide to keep that to yourself, for now at least.

“Well, thank you. I’m glad to contribute to the conversion of you into a dessert lover,” you joke, earning another beautiful smile from him.

“So, I’m not exactly here to talk about your cookies, however delicious they may be,” he admits, albeit a bit nervously for someone in the FBI, you think.

You raise an eyebrow. “How can I help you, then?”

“Have you heard about the death of Amelia Feezerman?” Your eyes widen, and you nearly choke on the cookie you were eating.

“What? Oh my God, no, I had no idea.”

“Ah, so you wouldn’t happen to know anything about her death?” He questions.

“Um, no? Why would I know anything about that?” You wearily ask.

“We thought that maybe you would know if there was any reason that anyone would want to hurt her.”

“Well, I didn’t really know her all that well. I know that she was in some book club thing with my mom, but that’s about it,” you say, crossing your arms. “Actually, I did hear that she was getting it on with some of her friends’ husbands.”

“Yeah, we know that,” Sam begins, “wait, plural husbands?”

“Yep,” you say, popping the ‘p.’ “She’d get with anything that breathes.”

“I see. So do you think any of these women would want to get revenge on her for that?”

“Oh, definitely. Some of these women are vicious. Rich women are some of the craziest people I’ve ever met, so glad I’m only back for three months,” you snicker.

Sam laughs. “So, you in college, then?”

“Yeah, I’m in my third year, just home for the summer,” you explained.

“Yeah? You enjoying college?”

“Partially, I mean sometimes I miss my mom, but then I remember that visiting her means having to come back here, and I’m over it immediately,” you sheepishly admit.

“Really? It doesn’t seem too bad here, other than the death,” he says.

“Yeah, well, I guess you haven’t seen how people really are here.”

“How do you mean?”

“I guess I just mean that people here are petty and would do anything to get back at anyone for the smallest stuff,” you say sadly. “Especially some of my mom’s friends.”

You take the look on Sam’s face as an incentive to continue, “her friends are like, money obsessed, and if any other woman gets close to their husbands, somehow they’re mysteriously gone within the month. It’s kind of freaky, to be honest.”

Sam clenches his jaw as Dean walks into the kitchen.

"You ready to go?"

"Uh, yeah, give me a second.”

Dean gives him a look, but nods and leaves the kitchen.

“Give me a call if you can think of anything else that might be relevant to the case,” Sam says, handing a card with his FBI phone number on it to you.

“Will do,” you say, winking at him.

****

“Alright, so, what do you got?” Dean asks.

“Well, apparently this isn’t the first time this has happened here. According to her, multiple women go missing every year, all women that have gotten too close to the husbands of these book club ladies.”

“So we’re looking at a coven full of snotty rich women?” Dean complains, shoulders sagging.

“Guess so.”

“Doesn’t seem so bad for you though, Sammy. Don’t think I didn’t see you laying down the nerdy charm in there,” he jokes.

“I wasn’t flirting,” Sam defends. “I was just getting information and she happened to be pretty and conversational.”

“Sure, Sammy, sure.”

****

Before heading back to the motel room, Sam and Dean decide to stop by a restaurant for dinner.

“Dude, don’t tell me you’re gonna get another salad. You need some real food.”

“Like what? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure what you eat wouldn’t be classified as ‘real food’ either.”

“It’d be closer to real food than the shit you eat. You eat rabbit food, I eat manly food,” Dean argues.

“‘Manly food?’ How is it manly? It’s just greasy and disgusting. You’re gonna get a clogged artery in like 3 months because of it.”

“Whatever, I’m here for a good time, not a long time.”

Sam shakes his head and goes back to looking at the menu.

Sam’s menu browsing is interrupted by a familiar voice. “Can I get you two started with a drink?”

He looks up to find you looking somehow just as beautiful in a waitress uniform, looking at him with stars in your eyes and a grin gracing your features.

“Well, hello again, agent. If I didn’t know better I’d think you were stalking me,” you playfully say, earning a chuckle from Sam.

“Hey, again. And yeah, I’ll just have a water,” he says.

“Alright, but honestly, I’d get the strawberry lemonade. It’s way better.”

“If you say it’s good, then I’ll give it a try,” he says, smiling coyly.

“Good, so a strawberry lemonade for you,” you start, turning to Dean, “and for you?”

Dean orders his drink, and while they wait for you to return with their drinks, they look at the food on the menus, at least Sam does, until he realizes that Dean is looking at him over his menu with a smirk on his face.

“Dude, what’s up with you and the waitress?”

“Nothing,” Sam says hesitantly. “I mean, she’s pretty, but I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? If a hot girl is hitting on you, take that as a blessing. How long has it been since you’ve gotten laid?” Dean reminds him, and for once Sam thinks he’s right, only a little bit, though. It had been a while since he even flirted with a girl, and it really couldn’t hurt, could it?

However, his train of thought is interrupted by your presence at the table again. You place each drink in front of them, being extra careful with Sam’s.

“So, are we ready to order?” You ask.

The boys order, and you jot it down on your notepad before walking away from their table. This time, Sam takes the time to watch the way your hips swing from side to side every time you take a step. All he can think is that you have the most graceful walk he has ever seen in his life, which he then thinks is a little weird, but it’s just like him to notice these small, weird, and typically brushed over details of people.

When you back out of the kitchen doors, a plate in each hand, Sam is still staring. He can’t help thinking how beautiful you are, and how cute the smirk you always seem to have on your face is.

You place the plates down on the table. “Let me know if I can get you anything else.” You give Sam a smile that could just as easily be for both him and Dean, but he chooses to believe it was just for him.

Dean smirks. “She’s one hell of a beauty. If you aren’t gonna do anything with that blessing, I will.”

Sam gives him a dramatic look of disgust, but otherwise ignores his comment in favor of eating his sandwich.

After they finish, Dean heads out to the car, insisting that Sam goes and talks to you.

He walks up to the counter, money in hand. “Hey.”

You give him a grin. “Hey, there. Enjoy the food?”

“Yeah, it was really good,” he says, sliding you a twenty dollar bill. “That enough?”

You nod. “So, I get off in two hours. If you care, that is.”

He smirks. “What makes you think that?”

“Well, if my charms are still working, I would assume that you care. I’m quite pretty, after all.”

“And humble,” he jokes, earning an, in his definitely not biased opinion, adorable giggle from you. “But, yeah. You’re right, I do care.”

“Good, then meet me at the bar across the street. And don’t be late, otherwise I might find another man willing to fall under my spell.” You lean on the counter and give his hand a pat.

“Well, we wouldn’t want that to happen, so I’ll be there.” He smiles and heads out the door, leaving you leaning your head into your palm, grinning like a teenage girl that just made plans with her first boyfriend.

****

When Dean sees Sam walking out the door with a smug smile on his face, he can’t help but don a smile of his own.

Sam opens the car door, greeted by Dean’s all-knowing grin. “So, you got a date tonight?”

“It’s not a date, we’re just going to the bar after she gets off work.”

“Well, whatever, we finally got you a lady. Make the most of it, but don’t have too much fun. Still have to get rid of these witches.” Sam finds Dean’s advice very out of character, because typically he would tell him to have the time of his life, but he’s too elated to make much out of it.

“I know, man.”

Dean pats him on the shoulder. “Let’s head to the bar, get you a head start to your night of fun. I’ll look into this witch coven.”

“Dude, since when do you want to do the research?” Sam questions.

“Ever since you started getting chicks instead of me.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “You were hitting on a waitress this morning.”

“Can’t do anything with her number now, so it doesn’t count.”

“You could call it.”

“Nah, not in the area. Not worth driving all the way back for a waitress.” Sam raises an eyebrow but decides not to say anything.

****

In the bar, Sam and Dean are sitting at a small round table. Sam is drinking a bottle of beer while sitting across from Dean, who for once for once is not trying to get laid, but is actually researching the case at hand.

“Alright, so get this. These moms meet up at your new girlfriend’s house every Tuesday and Thursday and are there until, like, four in the morning.”

“Where are you getting this information?” Sam asks, using his years of enduring Dean’s teasing to skilfully avoid giving into Dean’s provocation.

“Some noise complaints that have been filed over the past few years.”

“So these are for sure our witches, then,” Sam observes.

“Seems like it,” Dean agrees.

Sam finishes his second beer of the night and grabs one of the files in front of Dean.

“Alright, so there are four witches in this coven,” Sam reads from the file.

“Do you think the chick you’re meeting is also in it?” Dean asks.

Sam rests his chin on his palm, giving it some thought. He knew that some witches were born with their abilities, and since your mother was a witch, it was likely that you were born as one, but that didn’t necessarily mean that you were in on the killing, or that you even knew that you had powers. He hoped that you weren’t, but he thinks that he also wouldn’t mind it too much if you were. He would never admit it to Dean, but he thought that if you were a witch, it might be pretty cool.

“I don’t think so, she seemed really concerned about the killings and disappearances,” he defends.

“You’re just saying that because you’ve got the hots for her.”

Sam makes a face. “Yes, I like her, but I’m serious. I don’t think she is.”

“Alright.” Dean puts his hands up as if to say ‘Sorry, please don’t kill me now.’

Sam sees you walk in the door, heading straight for the bar. After taking a few more sips out of his new bottle of beer, he gets up out of his chair. Dean gives him a ‘go get ‘em tiger’ look, which he gracefully ignores in favor of sitting on the stool next to you.

“Hey there, stranger,” you say, batting your eyelashes at him.

“Hey,” he says giddily, causing you to come to the realization that he’s already at least a bit drunk.

“So you’re a happy drunk,” you observe.

“Whaaat? I’m not drunk,” he argues.

You give him a knowing smile, but indulge him anyway. “Alright, fine. How’s the case going?”

“‘S good, we have suspects now,” he boasts.

“Yeah? I assume that’s all thanks to your hard work here,” you tease.

He gives you a toothy grin. “You know it.”

The bartender comes over and you order some fruity drink that Sam doesn’t catch the name of. When you get it, Sam asks to try it, which you oblige, of course.

“Wow, that’s good. I want one, too.”

“It is, but is that really a good idea? How many beers have you had already?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Two, but I started on my third.”

“Oh. Well, I guess you can have some more of mine, but don’t drink too much. It’s pretty strong, and we wouldn’t want your partner over there to have to deal with you being too drunk,” you tease.

He frowns. “Who cares what he thinks? He’s bossy,” he groans. “And annoying,” he adds for safe measures.

You give him a comforting smile and a pat on his arm, causing you to realize just how muscular it is, along with the rest of his body. You somehow didn’t notice before, but now that you have, it’s all that’s on your mind.

“Sounds like I’ll have to take you off his hands for the night then, huh?”

He notices that your hand is still on his arm, causing a light pink to dust his cheeks. “Sounds like a plan.”

“So, once you’re done with this case, how long until you leave?”

“It depends. Could be a week, could be the same day we finish the case. For you, though, I’m sure I can arrange staying around for a bit longer,” he suggests.

“That sounds nice,” you admit.

“Good, I’ll work it out then,” he states. “You look beautiful, sorry for not saying it earlier.”

“Well, thank you.” You grin, slightly shocked at how bluntly he says it, but you’re definitely not complaining. Looking over Sam’s outfit, you can’t help notice how good he looks in jeans and a flannel. The way the sleeves of his flannel tighten around his arms doesn’t go unnoticed by you. Now that you’ve seen how he looks in the basic combination, you don’t think you’ll ever be able to think another man looks good in it. “You don’t look half bad yourself. Casual is your look, agent. Not to mention that shirt is doing wonders for your arms,” you compliment, causing a dark blush to appear on his face for the second time tonight.

“Thanks,” he mumbles in embarrassment, clearly not expecting you to have flirted back, and if he did, he definitely didn’t expect you to flirt so blatantly. He’s flustered, and so, he decides to shift the conversation topic off of himself. “So, where do you go to college?”

“Last year I transferred to Stanford, but I went to an in-state college that was far enough away from here before.”

Sam raises his eyebrows, giving you a small smile. “I went to Stanford, too.”

“Really?” You ask.

“Yeah, I was studying to be a lawyer. Until my brother came to my apartment and told me he needed my help looking for our dad, at least” he admits.

“You didn’t finish school?”

“No, but it turned out to be a good thing,” he says, his voice sounding like he was trying to convince not only you, but himself as well. You raise an eyebrow, but in hopes of not upsetting the cute puppy-eyed boy you’d met only hours earlier, ultimately decide against saying anything to contradict his statement. Luckily, he doesn’t seem to notice your hesitance to accept his statement.

“I’m glad. Although, I’m sure you could still finish school if you ever wanted to. It wouldn’t hurt to have a back-up plan,” you suggest, laughing internally at the fact that being a Stanford educated lawyer would be his ‘back-up plan.’

“I guess. But I don’t think I could let Dean work all by himself.” The crestfallen expression he has on his face after imagining leaving Dean, paired with his puppy dog eyes is almost too much for you to handle.

You put your hand on his arm, rubbing your thumb across the flannel he was wearing. “You’re a good partner, Sam. He’s lucky to have you.”

A perplexed look flashes across his face until he realizes that you meant they were FBI partners, and he quickly recovers by giving you a small smile. You find yourself unable to think about anything but his gorgeous eyes, sweet smile, and silky hair, causing you to get that warm fuzzy feeling that all your friends describe when talking about their boyfriends, and you feel yourself returning a smile without even trying. It felt almost like a reflex, and you realized that you were developing a crush on the tall, sweet, doe-eyed man. This thought is even further confirmed after Sam puts his large hand over yours, curling his fingers around your significantly smaller ones, causing your heart-rate to pick up.

You don’t even notice the blush appear on your face until you hear Sam’s teasing voice. “Now who’s the one blushing?”

“It’s just the lighting, don’t get all cocky,” you try to defend, to no avail, though, since Sam’s mischievous grin does not falter after hearing your defense.

“If you say so,” Sam says, doing his best not to let a doubtful expression cross his face.

“I do,” you firmly state. A small lull of silence overcomes the conversation, and you search through your brain to search for a new topic to discuss. “You said you have a brother? What’s his name?”

“Uh, about that. Dean is my brother.” Your eyebrows lift slightly.

“No way. You guys are brothers and work together? That’s pretty cool,” you observe.

“Yeah, sometimes. Other times he’s a real dick, though.”

“I bet. But he seems pretty nice for the most part.”

“He’s a good guy, he just thinks he has to protect everyone, especially me. He doesn’t realize I can do things on my own. I mean I was in college without him and I did just fine.”

You nod sympathetically, understanding how complex family relationships can be. From there, the conversation flowed smoothly and you felt like you could tell Sam anything without any judgment, leading you to ask, “Would you, uh, want to come over to my house for the night? My mom isn’t going to be home tonight.” As you say it, you feel like you’re in high school all over again, and you start to regret the words as soon as your lips stop moving.

Sam’s eyes widen and he stays quiet, further fueling your regret. For those brief few seconds, your mind races and you worry if you came off too strong or if he simply isn’t interested in you past a drunk conversation and flirting. Luckily, he realizes the look on your face and saves you from any further anxiety.

“Sure, that sounds good.” Once again, the infamous smile graces his features, cheeks puffing up causing his eyes to crinkle and because not only is his face beautiful, of course his eyes have to be, too. You swear, even if no one else in the whole world agrees, his eyes are so beautiful in that moment that they glimmer.

You beam at him and slip off your stool, grabbing his hand and leading him off to the door. He looks back at Dean to find him already smirking at him. Dean gives him a wink, and for what is probably the millionth time in his life, Sam completely ignores him, focusing on the way you’re eagerly dragging him out of the place and to your car.

****

The next morning, Sam wakes up in a room that is far too nice to be the hotel that he and Dean were staying at, even though they always got the best room. He quickly remembers the events of last night and smiles. Although, his smile fades when he looks next to him to find you nowhere in sight. He rubs his eyes, looking around the room at the posters and decorations that let him peer into a tiny part of your life without worrying if he was overstepping any boundaries.

He gets out from under the blanket and slips off the side of the bed, walking over to your desk that holds a curious collection of trinkets and a book full of pictures. He’s in the middle of flipping through the book when he hears the creaking of a door opening, and his reflexes have him whipping his head to see where the noise came from. You let out a little giggle when you find his face looking like a little kid that just got caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. He tilts his head as if asking what you were laughing at, but you just shrug, a cheeky grin still on your face.

“Whatcha doin’ there, Sam?”

For a moment, Sam is at a loss of words. “Uh, I was just….” He trails off.

“Don’t worry, I’m not mad. Just wondering what you’re looking at.” Your words clearly ease his mind, as he picks up the open photobook and points at the picture he was looking at. You smile as you look at a highschool version of you with some of your friends at a festival.

“It’s a cute picture. You dyed your hair, though. I almost didn’t realize you were in it at first.”

“Yeah, I figured since I was going to college I should switch it up a bit.”

You sit on the edge of the bed, watching as Sam continues to flip through the pages. You carefully watch his expression change as his eyes move around the pages looking at different moments of your life. He was glad to get even more of a glance into who you were.

Eventually, he reaches the end of the book and closes it, setting it back down on its rightful place on your desk. He joins you on the bed, sitting an awkward distance away from you, causing you to let out a small chuckle.

“What?” He questions, his puppy-dog eyes in full effect again.

“You can come closer, y’know. I don’t bite,” you tease. He blushes, as even more memories of last night flood into his brain. You definitely bit, but apparently only during certain hours of the day.

He scoots closer to you until your shoulders are comfortably pressed together. You take advantage of the proximity and lean your head on his shoulder.

“So, any plans for today?” You ask him.

“Not really. Just stuff for the case. I should probably check my phone.” You nod, and Sam thinks that the divine beauty of the slight raise at the corners of your mouth is unrivaled by any other sight Sam has ever seen, and he has seen almost too much in his short life.

He reaches over to the table next to your bed, trying his best not to move away from you and disturb your peaceful state of simple existence. He turns on his phone, seeing a few texts from Dean with more details on the case. He turns his phone off and decides that it wouldn’t hurt to stay here with you for another hour. You’re surprised by the weight of his head resting on top of yours, but who are you to complain?

****

Unfortunately, an hour can go by very fast when you’re, as they say, having fun. Watching Sam walk out of your house pulled on a part of your heart that you wish it hadn’t, knowing that Sam would soon be leaving your not so small town and you would more than likely never see him again. You don’t think you would be able to handle not seeing him again, even though the two of you have known each other for less than a mere day. With these thoughts swirling around in your brain, all you can do is give him a small wave when he turns around to look at you one last time before getting into his brother’s ‘67 Impala.

****

“Dude, tell me about your night. Was it the craziest sex you’ve ever had? Is she freaky? Waitresses always are, man.” Dean’s rambles fill Sam’s ears as soon as he closes the door to the old, black car.

“Really? You couldn’t even wait five seconds before you start with this?” Sam complains.

“You haven’t gotten laid in centuries, Sammy, excuse me if I want to know if my little brother had a good time.”

“Shut up.”

As usual, Dean completely ignores Sam’s protests and continues asking graphic questions about the ‘hot witch waitress’ until they arrive at the house of one of the witches in the coven.

****

Dean knocks on the door of the white two-story house, and within seconds is met with the face of a standard looking middle-aged woman.

“Hello, ma’am, FBI,” Dean says, flashing his fake badge, actions in sync with that of his younger brother.

The woman’s eyes widen slightly, but she schools her face back into neutrality quite quickly. “Come on in.” She motions for them to step into the house.

Dean sits down on the large couch in the living room, leaving Sam to remain standing next to it. “Do you mind if I use your bathroom?” Sam asks.

“Of course, go right ahead. Up the stairs and two doors to the right.”

Sam gives her a grateful smile before he walks out of the living room and heads up the stairs. When he began his search, he had expected to find one hex bag, or maybe even zero, but what he hadn’t expected was three. He raised an eyebrow, assuming that all the others in the coven would have at least coordinated this better, but here he was, looking at three different hex bags.

He quickly grabs them before flushing the toilet to avoid suspicion or potential disgust on the woman’s part if she realized that he hadn’t flushed the toilet.

Heading back down the stairs, he gives Dean a small nod to indicate his findings and to signal Dean to wrap up his investigation.

“You boys have a good day, good luck with your investigation,” the woman says, closing the door behind them as they walk down the stairs connected to the front porch.

“Dude, there were three hex bags in her bathroom,” Sam says, pulling the bags out of his pocket.

“I thought they only needed one? What’s the point of having more?” Dean inquired.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s more powerful or something.”

Dean made a sound of acknowledgement but said nothing in return. Sam took it as a cue to continue talking.

“So, I was thinking we just wait until a night that they meet up and then ambush.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Dean agreed.

****

Back at the hotel room, Sam is researching more for the case, just to be safe, while Dean is out grabbing something for them to eat. Sam assumes that he’s gone back to the restaurant you work at so he can grab another glance at you.

Sam is deep into a passage on witchly powers when his phone rings, he assumes it’s Dean, but the small screen shows an unknown number. His eyebrows raise, but he answers the phone nonetheless.

“Hello? Sam?” A familiar, but shaky voice asks from the phone.

He says your name as if it were a question, to which you quickly say, “Yes, um, sorry to be calling this late but I think there’s someone in my house.”

Sam’s jaw clenches, his whole face tensing up before quickly relaxing again as he prepares to defend the woman that he now found lingering in every crevice of his mind.

“I’ll be there in 5 minutes. Just lock your door and stay in your room, alright?”

“Okay. Please stay on the phone with me, I’m really scared,” you admit.

“Yeah, yeah, you got it,” he says, rushing out the door of the hotel room before realizing that Dean was still out getting food. “Shit,” he breathed. However, now he could finally reap the benefits of his daily morning runs.

“What?”

“Nothing, just a slight change of plans. Just stay calm.” His voice was slightly strained and now sounded more like a moan than actual words, and if you weren’t so damn scared you might have found it sexy.

****

About seven minutes and lots of heavy breaths from Sam’s end of the phone later, Sam was at the front door of your house, gun full of witch-killing bullets ready in one hand, and his small phone in the other.

“I’m here, you’ll be good if I get off the phone?” He asks, fully ready to somehow manage to find a way to stay on the phone while fighting if you need him to.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Do what you need to do, please,” you say, but he hears the fear in your voice.

“I’ll be done and up there as soon as possible, alright? Don’t worry.”

He hears a small sound of acknowledgement from the other end of the phone before he finally ends the call and goes into the house. He heads straight for the door to the basement that, luckily, he had found when he made his journey to the bathroom the first time he was over at your house. He opens the door and grabs a second gun out of his pocket for safe measures, especially since Dean was nowhere to be found despite Sam’s multiple texts.

He slowly creeps down the stairs, doing his best not to let his weight cause the stairs to creek. Fortunately, he makes it down soundlessly, but is now stuck with the task of creeping through the abnormally large basement without getting cornered by witches.

It takes a few minutes before he finally hears the loud chanting start back up again, and while he knows that he’s probably free to walk as loudly as he wants to, he still keeps up the stealth.

The chanting slowly gets louder, and Sam steadies his arms to shoot both guns. As soon as he sees two figures in the door frame, he pulls the trigger on both, not wanting to risk the chances of them performing some spell on him before he gets a chance to get them first.

Unfortunately, he’d forgotten that there was still a third member of the coven, and as soon as he turns around, he’s met with the face of your mother, as well as a book harshly hitting his head and rendering him unconscious.

The next thing he knows, he’s tied up in the same room that he shot the two witches.

“You’re not FBI, you’re hunters,” your mother says, disgust obvious in her voice.

“Like you’re any better. You kill innocent people,” Sam grunts, starting to discreetly rub the rope he was tied up with against the chair to cut it.

“Innocent? Oh, please, no one in this world is innocent, especially not you, and even more so since you’ve involved yourself with my daughter,” she spat.

Sam grimaces. “Oh, yes, I know all about that.” She smirks.

Sam is about to speak, but is interrupted by your voice calling out for him. As your voice grows closer and closer, Sam realizes his progress on the rope is not as fast as he hoped, and if he didn’t hurry up, you’d be in the room before he was free.

However, to his dismay, you enter the room before he can free his arms, and all that he can think about is how awful it would be to watch you die, especially by the hands of your own mother. The nauseating thought is interrupted by a loud smashing sound that Sam immediately recognizes as a bat to the head. His head shoots up and he sees you, eyebrows furrowed with your eyes glazes over as you realize what you’ve done.

He finally manages to get the rope holding his hands behind his back cut as you sink down onto your knees and start sobbing. His first reaction is to run over and hold you, asking if you’re okay, but he isn’t sure if that’s what you would want, and there’s no way in hell that he would want to upset you even more.

He settles for walking over to you and kneeling down with one hand on your back rubbing what he hopes are soothing circles on it.

“It’s gonna be okay, I promise,” he comforts. “It’ll get better. Just know you had to do this, alright?”

“I know, Sam, but it doesn’t make it any easier. I didn’t even think about it, I just saw you tied up, and that was my first reaction. Am I insane?”

“Hey, hey, don’t say that. It’s fine, you’re fine.”

Finally, you turn towards him and collapse into his arms, and though he’s surprised, he catches you and holds you closely and firmly to his chest. The hand that was once on your back is now on your head, comfortingly playing with your hair, and the other is wrapped around your waist as you sob into his shoulder.

****

Hours later, you’ve finally calmed down, and you and Sam are in your living room sitting on your couch, along with Dean, the other FBI agent that had arrived while you were still sobbing, much to your later embarrassment. However, Sam had reassured you that it wasn’t embarrassing, and Dean definitely wouldn’t find it so.

After his reassurance, you could find no trace of embarrassment still lingering in your mind. It was surprising that someone you’d only met a few days ago was able to not only understand you like that, but also manage to diminish your insecurities so easily. You found yourself thinking about how much you and Sam seem to have in common and how easy it is to talk to him.

You lean your head on his shoulder, and out of the corner of your eye you see a small smile on his face. He wraps his arm around your shoulder and brings you closer to him.

“Oh, get a room,” Dean grumbles in annoyance, but Sam knows that he’s just faking it. He knows Dean too well to not realize that he really is happy for him.

****

When you wake up the next day you feel a warm presence next to you in your bed. You quickly recognize the presence as Sam, leading you to snuggle closer, resting your head on his chest.

“Good morning,” Sam says groggily, his voice breaking you out of the peaceful trance you were in.

“Good morning,” you reply.

Sam gives your arm a small squeeze before sitting up. You mirror his actions, ready to start a conversation, but are interrupted by the loud sound of his phone.

He gives you an apologetic look and grabs his phone to presumably read a text.

“It’s Dean. He has a lead on the case,” he states, to your annoyance.

“That’s good, I think. Would it be wrong for me to ask if I could come with?”

Sam’s eyebrows raise at your unexpected request. He stays quiet for a few seconds before replying, “I won’t say no, but I also don’t want you to get hurt. So, I have to be honest with you.”

You tilt your head, encouraging him to continue.

“My brother and I aren’t FBI, we’re hunters.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “What?”

Sam swallows as if to prepare for the words about to leave his mouth.

“Monsters are real. Vampires, ghosts, all of it. My brother and I hunt them.” As the words are leaving his mouth, Sam is suddenly hit with a wave of regret. What if you don’t believe him? What if you think he’s crazy and tell him to leave?

You, on the other hand, were thinking about how happy you were that Sam was comfortable enough with you to tell you about his real life. In the future, Sam would probably laugh about how vast the difference of what was going on in each of your minds, but now, he was taking your silence as negative.

When you saw the worry on Sam’s face, you immediately realized that you’d been sitting in complete silence since he’d admitted the truth about him and his brother.

“Really?” The one simple word brought Sam joy and relief like no other moment in his life.

“You actually believe me?” He asks in disbelief.

“Yeah, I mean what reason do I have not to? It does sound kind of insane, but I also bashed my mom’s head in with a bat yesterday, so…” You trail off, realizing that once again you’d been using humor as a coping mechanism instead of dealing with your problems.

Sam clears his throat, now feeling very awkward. “Right… About that, are you sure you want to come with? You’ve already been through a lot.”

“It would probably help to get my mind off of it, even if more traumatizing shit ends up happening, too.”

He pursed his lips, deep in thought. “Yeah, alright. If that’s what you want, I won’t stop you.”

You smile. “Yeah, it is.”

****

Half an hour later, you’re sitting in the back seat of the infamous black Impala with some old rock song that Dean picked playing.

“Sam, are you sure about bringing her?” Dean asks lowly, as if you couldn’t hear him from your spot right behind him.

“Yes, Dean. It’s not like we’re leaving her to fend for her own while we go together,” he says exasperatedly.

“If you say so.”

You clear your throat, prompting Sam to turn around and give you an apologetic smile. You return the smile, but the annoyance you feel towards Dean does not dissipate. If anything, you feel it even more so after Sam apologized instead of him.

You decide to ignore it and stay quiet for the rest of the drive.

A few minutes and one rock song later, the Impala pulls into a driveway that you recognize as one of your mom’s friend’s house. You furrow your eyebrows.

“Why are we here?”

Dean clicks his tongue. “You didn’t tell her?”

“Well, Dean, I’m sorry that I didn’t want to overwhelm her,” he sasses.

“It’s a little late for that, don’t you think? You brought her on a damn hunt.”

The air in the car suddenly felt awkward and you felt as though you shouldn’t be listening to their conversation.

“I’m just gonna get out and let you two finish your discussion,” you said quickly before opening the door and walking over to the porch of the house.

As you walked up the stairs, the front door opened, and the face of your old best friend from high school appeared in the doorway.

She called your name, a big smile adorning her face.

“Lily, hey!” You said, feigning excitement to see the girl after three years.

“It’s been so long! Come inside. My mom is downstairs,” she exclaims, ushering you into the house and nearly slamming the door shut once you’ve entered her house. As soon as you enter the house, a chill runs down your spine and you can’t help but feel nervous about what’s about to happen.

****

You’d been in the house for a few minutes before Sam and Dean had even realized you hadn’t been sitting on the porch the whole time they’d been arguing, and when Sam looked over to see what you were doing, a wave of panic rushed through his whole body.

“Dean, she’s gone.”

“What the hell? See, this is why we shouldn’t have even brought her with us.”

“Dude, whatever, it doesn’t matter, we gotta go find her right now.”

Sam quickly opened the passenger door and rushed out of the car and through the front door.

He opens the door, quickly checking the living room. Nothing. He checks the kitchen and the dining room. Nothing and nothing. He checks all the rooms on the first floor and the second floor, then goes back to the first floor to check again, when he hears Dean calling out to him.

“Sam? Come here, I found a door to a basement or somethin’,” he calls out.

Sam follows the sound of his brother’s gruff voice and finds a door he doesn’t know how he missed. He’s usually thorough about searching, but he finds himself extremely on-edge this time. He thinks it might somehow, maybe, have something to do with his not-so-subtle crush on you, and maybe the thought that losing you would be one of the worst things that has happened to him even though he’s barely known you for five days.

He quickly pushes the thought to the back of his mind, at least for now, in favor of pushing ahead of Dean and heading down the stairs into the basement.

His mind is now absent of any “lovey-dovey” thoughts of you, but chock full of thoughts about how you could be dead right now. He never should have let you get out of the car and go inside without him. If you were dead, it would be all his fault, and he would never be able to escape the guilt of having another death on his conscience.

However, with all of these thoughts, the thought that you could actually hold your own against the witches had somehow never crossed his mind. It definitely should have, though, because when he finally reaches you, you’re standing over two feminine figures that are lying still on the ground.

He sees your chest rising and falling as the iron tight grip you have on the knife in your hand begins to falter. The knife clatters onto the floor as you look over to see Sam.

“Sam,” you pant, and he immediately rushes over to you and takes your tired figure into his arms. He immediately feels blood that he isn’t sure of the origins beginning to soak into his jacket, but he can’t bring himself to care about that right now. The only thing he cares about is your safety, and preserving that safety for as long as he possibly can from here on out.

“Are you okay?” He whispers next to your ear.

“No, Sam, I killed my mom and then my best friend from high school and her mom in the span of not even twenty-four hours. I feel horrible.”

“You had to, okay? They were killing people. Maybe that doesn’t help you feel better right now, but eventually it will. Don’t beat yourself up over it, or you’ll end up hating yourself for the rest of your life. This is how it is to be a hunter, and I understand if after now you never want to do it again,” he rambles, trying to somehow make you feel better, which he knows is nearly impossible right now, but he can’t stop himself from trying. To him, it almost feels like someone is taking control of his body and making him do everything in his power to help you.

He realizes very quickly, though, that it’s not a person taking control of his body, but an emotion: love. The realization is scary for him, to say the least, especially because of his track record with girlfriends dying, but he thinks that he would be okay with overcoming this fear if it means you would be his.

A few seconds later, Dean walks into the room and finds himself met with the sight of your shorter figure being held, in his opinion, disgustingly lovingly by his brother. He’s happy that his brother has found someone that seems like a good person from what he can tell.

Dean whistles, eyebrows raising in approval at the sight of the two witches’ bodies behind your back. “Damn, and you didn’t even need my help. You’re getting better, Sammy.”

Sam shakes his head. “I didn’t do this. She did,” he replies, turning around and giving Dean a smug look. Dean gives him a look of annoyance at being proven wrong when it comes to your ability to fight, but ultimately decides to give it a rest, for today at least. He could tell you were shaken up, and he felt that he could sympathize, only a bit, though.

When he realizes that you had taken out the two witches on your own, he couldn’t help but feel impressed, and he confidently feels that you and Sam are right for each other. It’s funny that it isn’t your loving personality or quirky teasing that tells him that you’re right for Sam, but instead the fact that you can hold your own in a battle. That really is a more valuable asset in their lives than any regular person, so Dean is glad that his brother has been lucky enough to find someone like that.

****

Later that day, you’re all standing outside your house that now feels very empty without your mother. You never realized how much of a presence she really had until now, and admittedly, it makes you sad to think about, no matter how much you disliked her.

Unfortunately, it’s about to get a whole lot emptier with Sam and Dean ready to head out to their next case. However, Dean’s voice shakes you out of your thoughts, and his words shock you even more.

“Kid, how would you feel about joining us for a few more hunts, see how you feel? Who knows, maybe you’ll become a permanent member of our group here.”

Sam gives him a look of pure astonishment, but all he receives in return is a smug look and a little shrug.

“Well, I don’t know. I don’t want to be a burden to you guys with all the teaching me how to hunt and all that.”

“I don’t think we’d have to do too much teaching. You’re a natural,” Sam compliments, causing a deep blush to appear on your cheeks.

“Alright, Sammy. We’re gonna have to work on all that flirting,” Dean teases. “I’ll admit, I do agree, though. That was impressive. I probably couldn’t have done that on my first hunt,” he admits.

His unexpected words of praise make you smile, and your annoyance from earlier fades away. Dean could be a pain in the ass from what you’ve learned, but he could also be nice. You figured he was usually a pain in the ass, though, but you figured that you would be able to learn how to deal with it, or at least ignore it like Sam seems to be able to do.

“Alright. To be honest, it was kind of exhilarating, but also scary. I think it could be something I could learn to love, though.”

Sam gives you a warm smile, and gestures for you to go over there to give him a hug, which you excitedly accept, falling into his larger frame as his long arms wrap around you.

Dean grumbles. “Really? Again?”

All you and Sam do in response is laugh, much to Dean’s annoyance.

a/n: would yall be interested in this being a series or something ?? idk i feel like that would be fun to do

tags: @kozumesphone

#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #spn #sam winchester fanfiction #supernatural #sam winchester x you #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester supernatural #supernatural x reader #supernatural x you #spn fanfic

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lexsssu · 11 months ago

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Inhuman (Adrian Tepes | Alucard)

TAGS: Alucard/Dragoness!reader, alternate universe, pining, sex pollen, morning after, breeding, impregnation, smut, oneshot Ao3 ver. | Ko-fi | Commissions (OPEN)

Darkness is something many feared for it brought about horrors both real and imaginary to life. The cover of night hid that which screeched at the light of day and yet there is a certain stillness and calm found in the dark.

Adrian never felt that the dark was something to be afraid of, but rather a hidden peace and tranquility when one decides to walk about during the twilight hours.

All is still until a flash of bright light illuminated the landscape, revealing everything which once hid within the blanket of night for barely a second before gradually fading away.

Normally, the dhampir would have chalked it up as yet another one of nature’s great mysteries before trying to see for himself what caused it. Blame his loving parents who naturally nurtured his inquisitive nature.

However, before he could even step another foot forward he saw something falling from the sky and as it got closer to the ground, his eyes perceived an unmistakably human form.

He didn’t need to think for another second as his body rocketed upwards in a great leap, lean yet toned arms grasping the surprisingly soft and tiny figure. As the air whipped around him during his descent, he took his first good look as to who or what he decided to save in the first place.

The blonde’s eyes widened, breath hitching in his throat as he beheld what could only be an angel, a being of pure light within his embrace.

Your silken ivory hair crowns your head and drapes over your heart-shaped face gracefully, petal-like lips which gleamed with a soft pink sheen, eyelashes like lush crescents that seem to teasingly hide what he could only imagine to be the most beautiful jeweled orbs in the world, and a spattering of silvery-white scales that travel from said cheeks down to your neck and the rest of your body hidden beneath your bodice.

You are clearly inhuman.

And yet, never has Adrian felt more human than he did right now especially as your eyes flutter open and meet with his own mesmerized pair.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“...make sure to grind them thoroughly, my dear. They have to be a fine paste before we can proceed with the next step”

“Okay, Miss Lisa. I’ll do my best!”

“Feel free to just call me mother. I’ve seen you as a daughter from the moment my son brought you into our home and since my husband hasn’t given me any daughters...you’re the next best thing and I honestly couldn’t be any more grateful for your arrival in our lives.”

Hidden behind a tall shelf lined with various tomes and scrolls, the young man couldn’t help but take peeks at the two most important women in his life as they bonded with one another. His mother so easily took you under her wing when he brought you here and you weren’t averse to the motherly affections she directed at you.

Now if he could only be as forthright with his feelings as his mother and express himself to you, because you were clearly as dense as a rock and didn’t pick up any of the subtle hints he gave you about his intentions...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“If you’re really okay with someone like me...then please use me as much as you like,” with a red blush highlighting your soft cheeks, you try not to look at the flushed and heavily panting Adrian pinning you down upon his bed.

The dhampir had accidentally inhaled the pollen of some new plant you both came across while partaking in your regular walks together. It took effect immediately, the normally calm and composed blonde becoming so flustered and heated that you’d think he was running a fever with how much sweat dripped down his face.

The raging erection which tented at the front of his trousers told you everything you needed to know, however.

Even if it was only to help him, you don’t regret giving yourself to Adrian because you love him. Even after the effects wear off, you hope that you’ll still stay friends because you’ve grown to love this castle and all its wonders. But especially its inhabitants—

“While I would have preferred to put a ring on you first, I’m afraid that I’m at my limit...but I promise to properly wed you after this, my love.”

The night is a blur by the time you wake up the morning after. Hazy memories of soft and firm touches, wet and deep kisses, harsh grunts and pitiful mewls, and nails scratching against the skin of his toned back as your tight cunt is forced open by his lengthy cock. You don’t remember how many rounds you went last night, having lost count of the amount of times you felt him spraying his seed deep inside of you and how you oh so shamelessly tightened even further each time he painted your walls white.

“We must inform mother and father once they return from their little trip. I’m sure they’ll be thrilled at the news of our union...though perhaps I might be scolded for taking you to bed before the actual wedding…” Adrian chuckled, messy strands of blonde hair tumbling down his chest as he gazed down at you with his head propped up by his hand, all the while you seemed to have been using his chest as a pillow the whole time you were sleeping.

“A-Adrian…!” You squeak and sputter at his joke, blushing all the way to the tips of your ears which only seems to ignite the flames within the dhampir once more as he rolls himself on top of you.

“If you truly insist on seducing me yet again...I suppose it is simply a husband’s duty to satisfy his wife”

#lexsssu writes #castlevania #alucard x reader #adrian tepes x reader #alucard x y/n #alucard x you #adrian tepes x you #adrian tepes x y/n #crossposted on ao3 #castlevania x reader

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ofstarsandvibranium · 5 months ago

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Precious Truths: Part 9

Fandom: Bridgerton

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader

Summary: After your father finds out you’ve been writing under a male pseudonym, he threatens to marry you off to an atrocious man unless you find yourself a husband within a month’s time.

A/N: I will not be taking tags for this series!

Series Masterlist

You bow, nod, and chit chat with all of the guests that approach you and James. You were never one for attention. Your social manners were beginning to wane the more time you spent around people.

James, sensing your wavering attention, excuses you and himself from the current couple in front of you, guiding you to the refreshments.

"Are you well. cheri?"

You nod, "Yes. Just-um..."

"Too many people?" he asks with an understanding look in his eyes. When you nod again, he slips his hand into yours, "Let us have a break then, shall we? I'm sure Daphne and Simon will entertain everyone in our absence."

He pulls you away from the people gathered around the gardens. He guides you closer towards the castle where there's a bench that you and he can sit on.

You sit beside him with a sigh, leaning your head against his shoulder, "Thank you. I'm not used to all this attention. It’s a bit much.”

"It's alright. I'm not fond of it either. I suppose it wasn't the best idea to have a duchess host our engagement ball, hm?"

You giggle, "No, it was not."

"Y/N," you hear your name and turn. You immediately squeal when you see who it is, "PENELOPE!"

You leave your fiance's side to hug your friend, "I didn't know you'd be coming!"

Colin joins his wife's side, "We arrived home early this morning. Just in time to travel with my family to come here."

You hug Colin, "It's so good to see you both! We must talk later about your travels!"

"Of course. I must ask, why are you away from everyone? Are you well?" the newly married Bridgerton brother asks with concern.

James joins you at your side, hand on your waist, "She was feeling a bit tiresome from all the fanfare."

Colin nods, "Understandable. It seems my sister has outdone herself." He looks around at the castle gardens with an impressed expression.

James outstretches a hand, "James Montclair."

Penelope and Colin nod, "A pleasure to meet you, my Lord," Penelope says with a polite smile.

You gesture to the couple, "This is Colin and Penelope Bridgerton. They were away on their honeymoon which is why you haven't met them until now."

James smiles, "More Bridgertons!" His exclamation coming from his playful, joking side.

Colin chuckles, "Yes, we are a large bunch. I hope they haven't given you any trouble, my Lord."

"None at all. They have all been most welcoming, especially your sister and his Grace."

"I'd be delighted to relay the message to my mother. She'd be very proud to know Daphne has been treating you well. Speaking of," he looks back to you, "they were looking for you, Y/N. But I shall stall them until you are ready."

You nod desperately, "Colin Bridgerton, you are my savior!" The man nods and proceeds to guide Penelope away from you. Your friend gives you a wave before following her husband towards the rest of the guests.

You settle back onto the bench and lean against James once more. Silence falls over both of you as you listen to the distant sounds of music and chatter.

You think about the night you met with Benedict at your secret spot. Yes, you spent a majority of the time talking but when there were lulls in the conversation, the silence between you two never felt awkward. There was always a sense of comfort and familiarity.

You feel that now with James. The realization causes you to abruptly sit up and clear your throat, "I think I'm well rested enough."

You spring to your feet, James following you with concern, "Are you sure?" His hand on your elbow anchors you to a stop. You look into his dark brown eyes, filled with concern and care.

You smile at him, reaching out to place a hand on his cheek, "Positive."

"Alright,” he softly smiles back but furrows his brow in seriousness, “However, if you feel that way again, let me know and we can have another break."

You cup his face with both hands now, "Thank you. You are too kind to me, my Lord.”

James takes your hands and kisses your palms. He continues to hold your hand as you two walk back towards the gardens to continue mingling with your guests.

______________________

Violet's eyes brighten when she sees you and James coming to approach her, "There you are, my dear!" she rushes over to you and hugs you.

You chuckle, "Hello, my Lady. I apologize for our brief absence. I just needed a moment to breathe."

The dowager nods, "Of course. I imagine this can be a bit overwhelming for you."

"Yes, but luckily I have James as my side," you look at your fiancé fondly. You then turn back to Violet, "All of your family is here, yes?"

"All but Benedict, I'm afraid," she replies dejectedly.

You frown, "Benedict didn't come?"

She shakes her head, "No, he had prior engagements. I'm sorry, my dear. I know you wanted him here." She holds your hand reassuringly, giving you a look of sympathy.

You sigh, your shoulders falling in dejectedness, "I'm sure it must've been important then."

"Yes. He has a meeting with the headmaster of an art academy."

You smile brightly, but your smile doesn't meet your eyes, "That's wonderful! I shall send him my congratulations."

Sensing the sadness fall over you, James clears his throat, "Mon cher, would you like to dance?"

"Yes! Of course!" you excuse yourself from Violet and follow James to the dance floor. As the ensemble plays, you and he follows the choreography that everyone knows by heart.

As your bodies sway to the soft melody, James asks, "Are you alright? I noticed you seemed sad at Benedict's absence."

You sigh, "I'm sad but also happy for him. He'd always loved art and then there was an incident that happened last year that dimmed his love for it. But it seems he's grown his confidence again, so it is good to see him continue his passions. But he is one of my dearest friends, so it does sadden me a bit that he isn't here."

"We shall make sure he's at the wedding then, hm?"

"Of course. Whatever it takes," you state with finality and it makes James smile.

He takes your hand, twirling you around like the other dancers. It makes you giggle. There is now a lightness in the air as you two dance. James keeps his eyes on you. They're soft, filled with love and light. A hint of a smile remains on his lips and it only grows as the music and movement progresses.

When the song comes to an end, James rests his forehead against yours.

"I love you," he murmurs.

It's the first time he's said those three words to you. Although you know he's felt this way, through his words and actions, it is very well known. But hearing it out loud, it's brought a tinge of uneasiness. You are very fond of James. He's become a great companion over these few weeks. He's made you laugh, made you feel cared for. You know your future with him will be filled with stability, comfort, and ease.

So why can't you bring yourself to say those three words back?

You open your mouth to reply but James beats you to it, "I know it has been only a short time, but my mother had always said that when you have love for someone, to never let it go. To embrace it fully. I never expected to fall in love again after Maria's passing. To find companionship, friendship was all I expected to find, but I found love again. It may be too soon for you to feel the same and I understand. I just wanted to let you know."

"Thank you. I am fond of you, James. But I am sure, over time, I will grow to love you just the same."

He takes your hand and kisses it, "I look forward to it."

_______________________

Benedict should feel elated. He should be all smiles and buzzing with excitement. But he isn’t. He’s at a standstill. The headmaster at the academy had offered him a spot! He accepted it with gratefulness, but now as he’s heading back home, he’s thinking about what this could mean. He’d be away from his family, away from you. But perhaps that would be a good thing. He wouldn’t have to see you with Montclair. He wouldn’t experience his heart breaking every time he saw you on the arm of the marquess. However, a part of Benedict, the sad, yearning part of him, doesn’t want to be away from you. He never wants to be away from you because with you, he is complete. However, he lost his chance. He had so many opportunities and now his time is up.

It’s time to let you go.

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton imagine #f!reader #female!reader #fem!reader

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fayesia · 1 year ago

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Date night — husband!mike schmidt x reader

a/n: Hi everyone!! So this is a continuation of one of my husband!mike schmidt blurbs.

Warnings: nsfw 18+, p in v, unprotected sex, sexual acts in a public area, praise kink, fingering, dirty talk, lmk if i missed anything!!

Summary: husband!mike schmidt who takes you out to a restaurant for date night and proceeds to finger you in the enclosed booth, later rewarding you for keeping quiet by pounding into your dripping pussy in the backseat of his car.

“we’re gonna be late babe” Mike calls out as he rifles through your shared closet for his suit jacket. You roll your eyes as you slip on your silk dress struggling to reach the zip resting just above your tailbone, cold hands brush across your skin hearing the slow noise noise of the zipper reached your ears. Mikes hands rest on your hips, lips ghosting over your neck whispering “you look so good…maybe the reservation can wait”

you giggle at this “no mike, you waited months to get this booking and we finally got a good babysitter, let’s go, quick put your shoes on”. He huffs behind you watching you bend over to put your heels on, god at this point your just teasing him and he’s not gonna allow that tonight.

You reach the restaurant in record time stepping out the car as mike holds the door open for you. Glancing in the reflection of the car window he senses your hesitance to enter the fancy establish.

“you look perfect honey, now let’s go inside”

He gently grabs your hand as you walk up to the waiter, he brings you both to your table handing out menus and explains how his name is ‘James’ and he will be in charge of your table for the night. He leaves to let you both decide your orders but not before letting out a remark about ‘being there whenever you call’ followed by a smirk in your direction, leaving you sat there with a sour grimace on your face.

“what a fucking dickhead. can he not see me sat right here with you” looking up at mike you try to give him a comforting smile “you know in yours mikey i don’t care about that guy whatever his name was”

Mike pulls you closer to his side in the reclusive booth specifically requested for the two of you, finally getting a night out to yourselves. His hand resting on your thigh tightening as James returns to take your orders. “i’ll just have one steak special” mike responds not even glancing in the waiters direction, “and for the beautiful lady?” you frown a little at his comment shifting uncomfortably under his gaze, as he eyes you up and down lingering at your chest for a moment too long. you open your mouth to respond glad to hear mike cut in “my wife will have the same” he curtly replies. James simply nods unimpressed by mike.

“and what drink will you both be having tonight?”

“just the red wine”

“ok well, we should have your order ready soon”.

Mike doesn’t even regard his presence absolutely fuming next to you, so you put on a fake smile and respond with a polite “thank you” as he collects your menus and walks away. “God did you see the way he was looking at you, who does he think he is!!”

“it’s ok mike don’t let this ruin our night out” you rub your thumb reassuring against his hand that’s still tightly gripping your thigh through the open slit of your dress.

“i love you, you know that”

“i do know, i love you too mike” he lowers his head connecting his lips with your plump soft ones, you pull away remembering where you are softly breathing. Mike holds eye contact with you, lips a centimetre away from yours “you know we’re pretty hidden. Chose this booth specifically”

“For wha-“ you barely get the question out before you feel his hand glide up your dress’ slit and onto your panties.

A single fingertip traces over your panty covered clit as you breathing picks up, panicked eyes meeting his mischievous ones. You’re fighting hard to not let a moan slip out, a tasks only becoming increasingly difficult as he insert his hand into your panties and expertly explores your wet folds he’s grown to know all to well. He places soft kisses up and down the side of your neck, pausing for a second to think and then continuing to harshly suck a mark right where everyone can see. His tongue soothes the sting as it traces over the now red hickey positioned on top of your right collarbone. You think the slow almost voyeuristic torture is over until his pointer and middle finger insert into your dripping sex. The wet squelch easily heard by the two of you over the gentle classical music playing over the restaurants speakers. He rubs and curls them against your g-spot bringing you closer and closer to orgasm until he stops.

Your eyes shoot open a look of need replacing the one of pleasure you had before. However you know it was not done as punishment or to be a tease as you see James walk out of the kitchen with a bucket of ice containing a bottle of wine and two glasses. You think mike will take his hand from out beneath your dress but to your utter dismay he continues his previous actions. Struggling to sit upright you provide a small smile to James as he places down the glasses and pours you both an adequate amount, briefly glancing over at your freshly marked collarbone and leaving with a reminder that the food will be coming soon.

“you heard that hun, you gotta cum before the food does” mike whispers in your ear with a shit eating grin on his face. You want to scoff at his words but trying to control your moans are already proving to be hard. With his two fingers harshly dragging you to climax the final straw is drawn when his thumb applies pressure to your clit. You arch your back unsure of what even hold on to as your grip his wrist to stop you reaching the point of overstimulation. You coat his fingers with your cum and attempt to catch your breath watching him bring them to his lips, open his mouth and suck any remnants of your orgasm clean off them.

“just in time baby” he exclaims with delight at the sight of your overpriced meal being brought over to the two of you. James places the plates down and walks away leaving you with a wink after a quick “enjoy your meal!” you know he’s accustomed to say no matter who he’s serving.

Mike and you finish the meal, pay the mortifyingly expensive bill and return to the car. but before you can get into the front seat Mike is pulling you back against him whispering against your ear lobe in between kisses “i think you deserve a reward for your behaviour in the restaurant tonight don’t you think honey” you nod your head almost in a trance feeling his hands everywhere all at once. Opening the back seat he’s thankful he parked in the corner of the lot away from the lamplights illuminating the interior of many other cars.

He crawls over you in the cramp space kissing you with a ferocious need, you finally release your moans into his mouth missing his touch. His hand drag down your zipper, pulling the dress off you absolutely enthralled at the matching lingerie you’re wearing underneath. He unclips your bra and begins his attack to your breast, lips coming against one sucking and nibbling while his hand works on the other one. “mm fuck missed these, god it’s been too long” you moan gripping onto his hair pushing his mouth further onto your tits, slowly lowering your hands down to his pants. You unbuckle his belt pulling his pants down and reaching for his cock. He moans at the pressure of your enclosed fists moving up and down his thick throbbing dick, hips thrusting into your hand, encouraging you to pick up speed.

He pulls away, dragging your panties down your legs as a thin strand of your wetness breaks. He positions his dick against your pussy rubbing up and down to lubricate himself, before entering you in one swift go. He leaves you completely breathless pounding in and out blinded by his need for you. “oh ye just like that baby best pussy in the fuckin’ world…hmm so wet for me, such a good slut taking me so well”

you moan at the filthy words leaving mikes mouth, the noises of the two of you and your body’s connecting bounce against the cars windows, but nothing will stop people passing by from seeing the utter force the car is shaking from. Any adults experienced in this world of pleasure would be well aware of the exact events taking place beyond the fogged up windows of the this car.

And maybe its the thought of this—or mikes finger against your clit—that bring you just that little bit closer to the edge. “fuck mikey i’m gonna cum please, god harder i’m gonna fucking cum”. His thrust increase speed, the noise of his balls slapping against your ass is louder than ever but easily covered by the loud moan you both let out as you cum. Your pussy clenching around mikes pulsing dick, drenching it in a coating of your climax, the last thing mike needed to prompt him towards his own orgasm.

“oh yes yes just like that baby clench around me so warm, shit always so fucking tight no matter how much i fuck you, christ, your so perfect, i love you so much” the words never end as he pulls out and strokes his cock. His cum squirts across your stomach, even reaching your neck, finally the onslaught of cum stops with the last few droplets dripping from his cocks ferocious red tip and onto your wet pussy almost the exact same shade of red.

He wraps his arms around you pulling you on top and against his chest, caressing your hair and kissing your forehead.

“i think we should go on date nights more often”

#mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt #smut #fnaf movie #fnaf #fnaf smut #josh hutcherson smut #josh hutcherson

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starsomens · 6 months ago

Text

𝕂𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕠𝕟

year 1

1-3 months

Have a new baby at home was almost like having a guest in your home. Only your life revolves around them now and you’re constantly worried if they’re okay!

When you had gotten home from the hospital Keaton insisted that he was still sleepy and so stayed asleep meanwhile you and Noah were freaking a bit

“Is he supposed to sleep that much?”

“I mean his is a newborn so I guess it’s normal……is he breathing” *proceeds to put his finger under his nose “okay he is”

Keaton was more a day sleeper rather than at night….big problem. Here you were in your rocking chair trying to get him to sleep at 4:17 am. Your eyes were heavy, your arms felt like rock and you were really just ready to knock out right there. You didn’t tell Noah since he had some things to get done tomorrow

After half hour passed Noah came in rubbing his eyes and took Keaton from you

"Come on babe, it's my turn to watch him,"

"are you sure...*yawwwn* you have that meeting later today, I'll be-"

"Not gonna hear it. Get to bed now missy,"

You were so grateful to have Noah there to help you with as much as he does

Feeding, changing, bathing and night shifts were shared but he always made sure to take on a majority so you could rest more. While he did work still, he worked from home and if he had to take the whole day to help you he did.

The one thing that he did worry about was how small Keaton was. He was just so tiny in comparison to him. He held his entire body in his two hands!

He loved to do skin to skin, especially before going to sleep or while doing work at home. He knew that it was essential for bonding and just overall good for the baby. On top of that he really did enjoy just having Keaton lay on his chest and fall asleep.

When it came to breast-feeding, he was a very big help. He would help to get a good latch or he would help you with the breast pump and remind you about times and switch. Help you moisturize them to keep them from getting dry and cracked

There were nights where he would put Keaton to sleep. While he was in the rocking chair, he was just stared down at him while he stroked the soft hair on his head with his finger.

“ never really thought that I would be a dad…. Once we found out about you, it really did change everything. I swear I’m never going to leave you you need me”

He wants to give him the best life possible and the best dad that he can

3-6 months

So much development! Noah is just taken away by it! Now he's mimicking his faces, and sounds and he will spend HOURS just making faces and sounds or copying him

"babe, babe! Look he's copying me screaming face!" and he'd make his face then turn Keaton around to show you his face

He is convinced Keaton is more advanced than most kids so every time you go to the doctors he's just waiting for them to say they're perfect

the more he grows the more he looks like Noah but with your eyes. You spent 9 months carrying a copy of your husband for him to be his exact copy, but, he did take your attitude and personality

Noah swears that he gave him stank eye when he took the bottle away from feeding and said it looked exactly like you did

"Of course he is! Look at him!"

Noah Love tummy time with Keaton he was just so cute the way he smiled and giggled and tried to hold his head up. And yes He's let his head fall right on the floor and yes Noah has laughed while kissing his head better

Keaton seems to have a thing whenever Noah watches him that he just blows his diaper up almost on purpose. Noah thinks Keaton is entertained by it since he always giggles when he changes his diaper with a stank face.

yes Noah has gotten peed on

Keaton for the most part was a calm baby and seemed to like and be comfortable on schedule and would sleep and eat around the same times unless something happened

Whenever the guys are over he does hover. He hates to be called one and to admit it, but he is a helicopter parent (and it's really cute)

He 10000% takes milestone pictures every month to treasure his growth. Which by the way has cleared a wall in his studio to hand pictures of you guys on it.

Although he loves being hands on he also loves to watch you be a mom. The Keaton looked at you, how loving and soft you looked as a mom. The way your body has changed to create your baby always amazes him.

7-12 months

Keaton was now going through some changes and shifts some were better than others, including you not going to him as often when he cried. Which you hated and honestly Noah would just give in too because in his words it's

"dumb as fuck"

CRAWLING! EVERYWHERE! He underestimated how fast babies can be when they crawl But he loves to lay on the floor and let Keaton just crawl all over him or come and plop his body on his face

By now you're body has healed pretty well but still had some baby weight on you and Noah thinks you still look incredibly sexy

"but Noah look at this,"

"the body that popped out my beautiful son? Yeah I love it, now stop shit talking yourself before to bring Keaton to slobber on you"

Uses his baby as a threat against you by hold him above you and just letting his drool drip down on you (pure evil)

Speaking of drool, he's ben chewing on everything to get to his itchy gums. You noticed he started to grow teeth at around 7 1/2 month when he gave you an open mouth "kiss" you felt something rough and it was teeth! You R A N to Noah

"TEETH!"

"What?"

"TEETH!" and you just opened his mouth to show him the small stubs of teeth growing from the front gums. You were just glad you didn't catch it while you were breast feeding, welp, that means he's gonna have to bottle but you pump what you can

Now weening him was a little difficult. Even your pumped milk wasn't enough for him

"I mean, if you refused to give me your boob I'd cry too-" "Noah!"

Eventually through a lot of crying and one or two tantrums, he was moved on to bottles, now the issues was drying out your milk or whatever else was left

"If you want my hands are really big so I can just-"

"are you offering to milk me?"

"no.......maybe."

As for talking you guys have been trying to get him to say mama or dada any chance you got, but now it was a secret competition of who he would say first

Noah would basically spam him with the word Dada or Papa while you weren't around, and all lil Keaton would say was "mmmm" "buh. Buh" and blow raspberries

Now he did say his first words and it was when you had to go to a doctors appointment and he was getting fussy

"Say bye-bye to mama bud, she's gotta go"

"awh baby, I' don't want o leave you ether," you said kissing his chubby cheeks "mommy will be back soon okay?" while you hand him over to his dad he starts to whine and pout for you and said

"mama" in his sad voice as he chews at his cubby hand wanting you to stay

"HE SAID MAMA! HE SAID MAMA! Yes baby! I'm mama, that's me baby" you were ecstatic, while Noah was a bit disappointed he was still so proud to hear him say his first word, and at 8 months! You were a bit late to your appointment but hearing your baby say mama was much more important than the doctors.

but one of the biggest surprises was when he walked for the first time, and yes you both cried. It was actually at rehearsals for an upcoming show near home so you went with the guys and of course Keaton had his sound protection you were on the side of the stage holding Keaton up by his hands as you encouraged him to dance as his father sang. As he bounced up and down he was also padding his feet a lot and was just so excited for his daddy who was just out of reach

You start to move with him one foot at a time as he started to walk just a bit faster seeing how much closer he was getting to Noah, Noah turned and he saw you walking with Keaton as he held on to your fingers and crouches down with a big smile on to his knees holding out one of his arms

and just like that he let go of your fingers and stumbled his way to Noah, tripping on the last step but caught by his papa, Noah just picks him up and hides his face in his little shoulder and you know he felt emotional. An entire year went by and he didn't know how it went by so quickly, how much he had grown and how much you both had grown as parents, he comes over to you and kisses your head as Keaton just giggles as you both smoosh him in a kiss

"well, one year down."

「🍼taglist」: @badomensls @darling-millicent-aubrey @lma1986 @sanchez099 @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @flowery-mess @veronicaphoenix @malerieee @calleyx13

#dad noah sebastian #dad noah #noah as a dad #bad omens #noah sebastian #bad omens cult #noah sebastian x reader #noahsebastian #star’s anons #dad series

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navstuffs · 1 year ago

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Emptiness

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader

Summary: You are dead, and Leon wonders why he is still alive.

Warnings: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, long one-shot, leon is suicidial, suicide attempt!!, leon is depressive, MAJOR ANGST, abuse of alcohol, some usage of y/n, cigarettes/smoking, leon is a mess, SAD SAD SAD!!!, leon is suffering a lot, lots of pain, NO HAPPINESS!, dates in italic count since reader's death

Author's Note: idk, except i am sorry i like to make the characters i love suffer and share that on the internet? i made my husband read this, and he doesn't care about leon whatsoever, and he ended up upset for him at the end so you can imagine how this goes. i have more happy leon's fanfics, you can check it out here!

PLEASE, PROCEED CAREFULLY, AS THIS FANFIC DESCRIBES SUICIDE, SUICIDE ATTEMPT, DEPRESSION, AND ALCOHOLISM.

If you have been struggling with depression or suicidal thoughts, you are NOT alone! Here is a link for tumblr support for some helpful information, depending in what country you are! Seek help, you are loved, you are strong, you are wanted!

3 months, 27 days, 3 hours, 5 minutes

The first thing Leon notices when he wakes up is that he is cold. He isn't wearing a shirt, and for some reason, the blankets covering his body look dirty with some unknown substance. He groans, throwing the blanket on the floor. He still wears the jeans from last night, has no shirt on, and doesn't smell well.

The second thing he hears is his phone's ringtone. It had to be Chris. Or Claire wondering if he is alive. He sits up, his hand rubbing his face as a way to make the headache less.

The third thing Leon notices is his hand resting in the empty space of the bed. Your empty space on the bed. He gulps because he hasn't touched that part since returning to the house. He raises his hand as if Leon contaminated the area, the last pieces he had of you.

Leon glimpses under your pillow a very familiar black shirt. One of the ones he gave to you. Leon doesn't remember grabbing it last night. He holds it, checking if he got dirty, but the shirt seems clean. Leon takes the shirt to his nose, smelling it.

His phone rings a second time breaking his trance. He gets up from the bed and sighs when he sees the nightstands filled with beer cans. You would have hated that.

When he finally finds his phone on the bathroom floor, Leon's headache worsens when he sees Chris's name.

"Yeah?"

"Fuck Leon, I was on my way to your house right now. You scared me, man."

"What do you want?" Leon isn't in the mood to talk, especially with Chris.

"Claire told me she went by your house last night, and you weren't there. She says the motorcycle wasn't there. Have you been drinking and driving again?"

Leon rolls his eyes. As if drinking and driving was a big problem for him now.

"Okay, mom, if that is all, then."

"Look," Chris sighs, and there is a long pause before he speaks again. "There is a mission. If you are still interested."

Finally, Leon thinks. He has been begging for one for weeks now, and Chris has always said "no," "next time," or "we shall see" due to his mental health situation.

"Yeah. When?"

"I will send you more details when I have it. Look, Leon, I just don't think you should—"

Leon hangs up without letting Chris finish. He scrolls through his lost calls, mostly all of them being from Chris and Claire. A few from Jill when she was trying to help. It got too much for her as well. Leon scrolls down even longer, finally finding your name.

Almost four months ago. Has it been that long? Two last calls.

As a ritual he repeats every morning, Leon clicks on your name, hearing the call go straight to voice mail. Precisely as he wanted.

Hi, this is Y/N, you tried to reach me, but I can't take your call now! Leave me a voice message, and I will contact you as soon as possible!

Beep.

-x-

4 months

Jill Valentine is sitting in front of Leon inside the jet. She hasn't looked at him once inside the plane as they are being taken to a contamination site. Her eyes are distant, her form is tense, and Leon maybe thinks that time can't cure it all.

"Preparing to land," They hear in their radio communications. Leon rechecks his gun, wondering without significant interest if any of that would ever end. When he looks up, Jill is observing him.

"You ready for this?" She asks with a mild tone of curiosity in her voice.

You knew Jill longer than you knew Leon, actually. You were her best friend before becoming his lover. Jill had given Leon all the solemn talk of "Don't fuck up with my best friend, or I will kill you." After your passing, Jill had become somewhat like a ghost in his life. She tried, Leon wonders, if not for you, to give him support in the first two weeks, but Leon knew deep down she blamed him.

And she was right.

"Yeah," He answers.

Jill nods. The last time she had seen Leon, he was miserable. With the longest beard Leon has ever had, bloodshot eyes, hair a mess, drunk, and the smell of cigarettes around the house. She told herself she would try for you, but it wasn't easy to see Leon like that. And after she said you would hate it if he smoked inside their house and Leon grunted that you were dead and never coming back, she left without looking twice.

She never understood why Chris and Claire continued. Maybe because they knew him longer than they knew you.

The plane finally lands in a safe space, and they exit. It is in an abandoned industrial area this time, and they might have survivors who live nearby and might need help.

"Do not fuck this up," Jill warns.

"I won't."

-x-

1 month, 1 week, 2 days, and 5 hours

Claire Redfield is knocking on Leon's door. It is way past dinner time, but she brings pizza. From your favorite place. Claire knows he won't have eaten anything since Chris kept telling her Leon is losing weight. Since your death, Claire has tried to help Leon out as much as she could because she knows that is what you would have wanted, to no avail.

"Come on, Leon, I have pizza! I know you haven't eaten today!" She announces.

That's when her sixth sense starts beeping. All house lights are off, which is strange: Leon either left the TV or any light on. Leon didn't like the darkness. Claire tries to open the door but is locked. Leon never locked the door since he was back for this house. With her heart racing, Claire goes to her bag and grabs the reserve key. She shares one with Chris, and they both trade every week. Leon doesn't seem to care, not that he cares about many things lately.

She enters the apartment to complete silence. No sight of him anywhere.

"Leon?" Her voice is distant, as her hands are looking for her gun. Maybe someone invaded and got him? Perhaps something else—?

The air escapes from Claire's lungs when she sees Leon. Hanging from the ceiling.

"Leon!" She screams, running fast to hold his legs. She doesn't know what she is doing, she is calling for help, she is trying to get a chair, she is trying to hold his legs up so he can breathe. Claire doesn't dare to look up.

With one sudden decision, Claire gets her gun and shoots three times at the rope. Leon's body drops, and he is pale as a ghost. She kneels near him, feeling his pulse. There is still one, very light, but there is one.

Without thinking twice, Claire starts CPR, Stayin' Live by Bee Gees, in her head. She knows Leon will hate her for this, but she can't fail this. She would have hated herself, you would have hated her.

"Come on, Leon, come on." She begs desperately as she compresses his chest with all her strength. When Leon finally breathes, a small vigorous one, Claire is sweating on her clothes. She sighs, relieved, sitting down on the floor, drained.

She grabs her bag and finds her phone to call the emergency number, asking for an ambulance. That her friend attempted suicide. She gives them Leon's address, checking for his breathing. When Leon opens his eyes, he is confused. The last thing he remembers is kicking the chair away, the air escaping slowly from his lungs. He looks around, finding Claire's face in his peripheral view. She seems to be crying, her hands on his chest.

His blue eyes find hers, and Leon looks with hatred in her direction for the first time that Claire doesn't recognize him. She feels tears form in the corner of her eyes, and her lips shake, but she holds them back.

"I have called an ambulance," Her voice shakes, and Leon's stare carries so much weight that she must look away.

-x-

1 month, 3 weeks, 8 hours, 2 minutes.

The hospital door opens, and Leon exits, carrying his duffel bag. After staying confined for almost two weeks, he inhales the fresh air. Those two weeks, instead of helping, just made him feel worse. Much worse. With no alcohol, no cigarettes, nothing, Leon had no way to forget. He woke up and went to sleep with your face on his mind.

Going through what he did wrong. What he could have done right.

He feels the pain sting his soul, thinking about your smile. Fuck, he needed a drink. He needed some sort of dubious mixed-up cocktail. The stronger, the better. When he looks to his left, he sees Chris Redfield standing.

Sighing, he walks toward Chris. Leon knows he won't be able to run away. Chris has a worried stare as he gets closer. To be honest, Leon thought he should have hated after what he did to Claire, but no, Redfield still manages to give him a small smile when Leon gets close.

"Hey."

"Who told you I was going to leave?"

"Mhm, the hospital? You are in my care for the next couple of weeks."

"I am going home." Leon starts to walk away from him, but Chris's arm stops him.

"No, you are not. As I said, you are in my care. And if I need to drag you to my car and make a scene in front of all those people, I will. What do you think?"

Leon hates how Chris can look like you so much regarding his care. Always to drastic measures, you both could say. Pretending to have given up, Leon holds his hands up as a sign of defeat and follows Chris to his car.

"Is...Claire okay?" Leon mutters as Chris starts the car. Leon can see Chris hold the wheel stronger than he should, but the moment passes, and Chris answers.

"She is worried sick about you. She has been...busy, that is all."

Leon knows that is a lie. He had seen Claire on one of the visitations day, and she seemed upset like she had been crying every day since she found him. Leon felt guilty Claire was finding him (he thought someone else would) and was outraged when she saved him. And he ended up lashing out at her. When Claire tried to argue during the visitations that is what you would have wanted, Leon roared that he never wanted to see her again.

To be honest, Leon is relieved. One less person for him to hurt. Chris, well, that one was hard. Leon knows he isn't giving up that easily. Especially after the last thing he said to you was that he would protect him during a mission.

"No, no, Chris, you don't understand, he bikes around without a helmet and thinks that is super cool? I mean, how old is he again? You better keep your eye on him, if I am not around. Got it?" You asked, winking in Leon's direction. He knew you were teasing him, but Chris's tone was serious when he answered.

"Loud and clear."

In the first three weeks after your death, Chris was there. He rummaged through the house, taking everything Leon could use to harm himself. Leon's guns were the first to go, Leon didn't know how he discovered the password, and honestly, he didn't care. He just woke up a day with them gone. Knives? Gone. It was like Chris was baby-proofing the house.

Leon would have lost much more weight during that time if it wasn't for Chris insisting on him eating. Or hydrate. Warning if he got too weak to take care of himself, Chris would have made sure to strap him to a bed and kept him there against his will.

"There are cigarettes in the glove's compartment," Chris says, cutting his line of thought.

Leon looks at him with suspicion before opening. Chris wasn't lying. There is even a lighter there.

"You smokin' now?" Leon asks out of curiosity.

"No. I bought those for you."

Leon lights up a cigar, opening the window. The rest of the car ride goes silent, and when they finally arrive at Chris's house, he turns off the car, sighing.

"Look, Leon. I am not very good at this, and you know it. You will stay with me as long as you want, but I can't keep you a prisoner in my house."

Leon observes him, and Chris takes the courage to finally say it.

"No one wants you dead, Leon. What happened to Y/N, it wasn't your fault. And you need therapy."

Leon gives a humorless laugh, opening the door of the car.

"You are not bad at this, Chris. You are terrible at this."

-x-

4 months, 1 day, 5 hours

Ada Wong is good at her job. She does what she is paid to do when she needs to do it. No feelings attached, except, well, when Leon Kennedy is involved. It had been like this since the events during Raccoon City.

And then, suddenly, you appeared on his side during the events in Spain. You were something else, for sure. Standing by his side, remaining strong, although that was your first mission, or so Ada heard. And facing up her, determination in your eyes. Ada found you adorable, perfect for Leon. The loyalty, in your eyes, was something she could never demonstrate.

The man in front of her now was just what once was Leon Kennedy, her..."ally" from the other side. Ada had to admit she was shocked when she first saw him, barely recognizing him. Leon had big dark bags under his eyes, not as strong as he once was. And there was...no life in his once vivid blue eyes. Nothing.

"Ada Wong. Doing something for yourself again?" Leon asks, his voice monotone.

Ada was used to his hostility, mistrust, and even anger. But not that complete apathy, a complete lack of emotions. Leon Kennedy was dead, she was confident, and he died when you did.

"You know I don't share my secrets, big boy," She says, her tone the same as always. "But we can always find common ground, as we always do."

Leon nods, and Ada tells herself she shouldn't care, she shouldn't ask. But she has never seen it like this, and this Leon frightens her.

"I have heard about Y/N. My condolences."

Leon's eyes go wide with surprise. He looks at Ada as if she has just arrived from outer space.

"Is this one of your schemes? 'Cause if it is, cut the crap, I am not in the mood."

"It is not. I heard about what happened." Is Ada Wong really showing empathy? Leon blinks, surprised, but he shakes his head. No, it has to be one of her tricks. Since when did Ada start caring about him?

"Shut up, Ada. Do not mention this ever again. We are here for a mission, nothing else, nothing more. Stop pretending you fucking care." Leon's voice is low, and Ada doesn't say anything as she watches him walk in the dark corridor before her. She has known him long enough to know when he is being serious, and she knows he is threatening her life now.

Ada sighs. The Leon Kennedy she once knew, was gone. You left a carcass behind, a damaged man for the rest of his life. Ada still remembers the last thing she said to you, before she disappeared.

"You are truly special. Take care of him."

-x-

1 minute

"Is Mr. Leon Kennedy speaking?"

Leon stops when he answers his phone to a strange voice.

"Yes? Who is this?"

"Mr. Kennedy, this is from McKenney Hospital. Could we speak with you in just a moment? Are you busy or driving?"

"No. Hospital, you say? What is going on?"

"We just need a moment of your time. Do you know Y/N L/N?"

Leon's heart starts bumping against his chest.

"Yes. What about it?"

"Y/N L/N was involved in a car crash today, sir. At this moment in time, they are doing surgery on them."

"What? No, excuse me, ma'am, this is some mistake."

The gentle voice behind the phone silences as she listens, Leon saying you weren't involved in an accident. It was impossible. You were coming to have dinner with him later, you were going to forgive him, you were going to be back together just fine. When Leon shuts up, the voice speaks again with much more compassion.

"You are tagged as their emergency contact, Mr. Kennedy. How long can you get in here—"

"I just fucking told you, lady, that is impossible, they are coming to have dinner with me, we are supposed to reconnect, and you aren't listening to me!" Leon screams the last part, punching the counter before him and making all the glass bowls in the counter jump.

The compassionate voice waits to speak again in a much more determined tone.

"Mr. Kennedy, I suggest you come to the hospital, not alone. Come with a friend. We will answer all your questions and concerns when you get here. Just don't come alone."

Leon turns off the call, pissed. How can the lady be so stupid? He told her over and over again you were on your way to his house, your house. Leon had been cooking the whole night, preparing your favorite dinner. After that, he would never let you away from him ever again. He breathes deeply now, trying to ease the tremors on his hands, when he lets his eyes wander off to the TV, a news broadcast about a terrible accident that happened. Some drunk driver caused this accident that involved a with a truck oil tank, and five people were killed. Many injuries reported.

Without thinking twice, Leon grabs his motorcycle's keys.

He doesn't know how he got in one piece in the hospital. Something inside him tells him to call Jill, Claire, Chris, or someone, anyone, but he doesn't. The hospital's entrance is chaotic, with most victims being taken there since it was the closest location.

Leon asks your name to the front receptionist, and they say they are operating you now. The lady points to the waiting room area, where Leon waits. Leon had felt fear many times in his life, but nothing compared to this. He knew you were strong. Stronger than him, actually. You were brave. You were getting out of this.

Because he didn't know how to live without you.

Leon observed families getting good and bad news for what seemed an eternity. The death toll climbed to more two people, a mom crumble in the doctor's arms due to the loss of his son and husband. Leon was praying, begging for some higher force or anything for you to live.

He would never drink again. Leon Kennedy would never let the darkness inside him win and let you go. He would never doubt himself or his ability to love. No, Leon would love you even more intensely than he already did, more than anything in his life.

Leon takes a while to get up when the doctor finally calls his name. He feels sick, his stomach is twisting. He counts nine steps until he gets to the doctor, a lady with scrubs and an indecipherable face.

"Mr. Kennedy, do you want me to take you to a more private room?"

"Tell me."

The doctor sighs, looking directly into his eyes when she says.

"We did everything we could, Mr. Kennedy. I am sorry they didn't make it."

No.

"I am sorry, Mr. Kennedy, I truly am."

No. NO! NO!

"Mr. Kennedy, please, don't, I am sorry. Can I get some help over here? Please, don't do this!"

It takes six or seven security guards to stop Leon from destroying the waiting room or even hurting someone. He is crying, he is begging, he is losing himself. It couldn't be true. It just couldn't. It was unfair: not after everything he had done or everything you went through together. He always told you he needed to die first because Leon knew damn well he couldn't live without you. Leon has a hole in his chest that will never close again. He feels someone pull his sleeve up, a pinching sensation, and Leon falls into darkness.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy fanfics #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy imagines #leon kennedy angst #leon x reader #leon x you #please dont hate me too much #but i had to :(#someone give reader to leon back please #i almost cried at the end of this I SWEAR

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xxsycamore · 5 months ago

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methinks......... lactation

TWO OF YOU?! I'm kinkshaming you!! *proceeds to write this*

TW: PREGNANCY

Napoleon + lactation (we're assuming cisfem reader for this one)

Now that you're nice and bred, having Napoleon's eyes on you is the norm - he just can't let you out of his sight, you must be safe and protected at all times. That means he notices every little change in your body, the same body that he might as well know better than you do... you should have expected this. Yet it probably comes out of the blue, one night while you're changing for bed and slipping into that nightgown that is specially selected to accommodate your growing bump. Napoleon is there to assist you, pulling your hair free from the back of the neckline once you pulled it over your head, sliding his hands down the curves of your body until he lets them rest on your belly... and then begins to slide them up again, on your front. And then he asks, "Do you feel them any different? They've gotten a little heavier, it seems."

And really, did you feel the change? You're probably a little embarrassed by how Napoleon figuratively puts you under a looking glass, waiting for the signs of your advancing pregnancy... his hands are groping your breasts, delicately covered by the fine lace of the nightgown, but he's being very gentle. He expects them to be sensitive, and you're yet to give him an answer so he might remove his hands altogether, always careful not to make you uncomfortable.

And if you mutter something about your breasts having begun to leak milk, he won't be able to keep his composed expression. You're still in front of the mirror, after all. All you have to do is look at the reflection, and you'll be able to see this lust darkening the normally clear aquamarine pools of his eyes. Maybe you find it a little unexpected, depending on how you feel about this, but either way Napoleon will push this sudden emotion away, collect your chin and turn it around for a kiss. He can tell when you're nervous about sharing something with him, so he's quick to reassure. "Your body is beautiful." "This is normal and expected." "Tell me if I could help you in any way."

In fact, there is a way for him to help - maybe they really have begun to ache a little, in a way you're unfamiliar with, but you figure it won't hurt to try - or maybe your pregnancy just simply makes you horny about his hands on your boobs. Either way, you two get to that point, and Napoleon being Napoleon, he gives your breasts the usual dose of attention and some more - and while his beautiful strong hands knead your breasts with the intention to massage, something you both knew would happen happens, and a single milky-white droplet travels down the gap of his fingers.

It's strange because neither of you cares much about making a mess while being intimate, yet you have the same reaction about something needing to be done here. And maybe that's when Napoleon follows that droplet and catches it with his tongue. You might avert your gaze and call out his name scoldingly, but he's going to chuckle and wait for you to look back at him. There's a silent question hanging in the air above you that you're both very much aware of. And maybe you do give him consent...

Once you give in, you're going to wonder why you didn't think of this sooner - but you can't help it, the sight of Napoleon putting your nipple in his mouth is obscene. It's a funny thing, considering how you've seen the exact same sight hundreds of nights, including the one that put you in that state, yet you can't help it. Napoleon drags the tip of his tongue around your darkened areola before he takes the engorged nipple in his mouth, and he suckles on it. And the feeling is a little weird and new, and also so good, as your breast gradually begins expressing milk. He's always been so kind to you. So ready to help. To give you pleasure. It really is no different.

You will be a little surprised when he shifts a little to a more comfortable position and you find out that he's doing this because his pants have become uncomfortably tight on his groin. If you put your hands on his cheek to make him let go and ask him how is this making him hard, he'll look you with those lust-crazed eyes, breathing just a little heavier than usual when he's buried in your chest, and you won't be able to miss the way he licks his lips clean before speaking to you, expression becoming a tad more serious just for a moment. "I can't help it. The sight of you being so motherly, becoming like that because of what I did to you... it makes me desire you like crazy. Forgive me for being so dirty, Nunuche."

Will you forgive him? Will you stroke his cock while he nurses from you? If you do, you might have discovered a new special kink you and Napoleon are going to participate in for a while... After the birth of your child, your breasts are bound to be in need of relief when you produce excessive milk. You'll be grateful that you left yourself in Napoleon's care, as he eagerly turns your aches to a content pleasure surging all over. He might finger you while he sucks mouthfuls of milk out of your breasts, delighted at how fast he's able to make you cum on his hand. Just don't indulge him too much, or as soon as you stop lactating he's going to think about knocking you up again.

7/10 "I'm just showing my thankfulness for your body that is working to nurture our child. Isn't that what a loving husband is supposed to do? Come now, sit on my lap and let me do this for you. I promise I'll try to hold off from bending you over at least until I'm done relieving you."

-> (ALWAYS OPEN) send me a kink & I’ll give you a headcanon and rating for Napoleon!

🦶foot fetish 🥵breeding kink 🥕pregging 😈dom/sub 🍈breast kink ⛓bondage 🩸period kink 👄marking 🐺predator/prey 🏙public sex 🤗praise kink 👅 cunnilingus 🍌blowjobs (receiving) 🚪getting caught 🖐️masturbation

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikemen vampire napoleon #ikevamp napoleon #ikemen napoleon #ikemen series #ikeseries #tw pregnancy

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chronically-ghosted · 6 months ago

Note

Taylor!!! Happy 1k to you!!!!! So well deserved. Hope you’re having fun celebrating 💕

💫- “Do you have to leave right now?” “I can stay for a little while longer.” with big soft guy Frankie Morales please 🥰

Em xx

heat lightning

rating: teen pairing: frankie morales x f!reader word count: 1.1K summary: this is not your frankie warnings: angst, reader and frankie have a daughter, proceeds the events of the movie, everyone's having a really bad time a/n: thank you for your request, Em! i know i don't usually do angsty!frankie but i think this scene had been brewing in my head for a while and i wanted to try it out! love you so much and i hope you like it!

🤍Masterlist 🤍 Frankie Morales Masterlist

When you were nine, your aunt and uncle divorced. An ugly thing – lots of crying, late nights up with your mother, arguments over the phone, loyalties tested, lines drawn in the sand. You didn’t understand much of it at the time, but there was always a moment that imprinted on your young psyche that has stayed there ever since.

You can almost smell the spilt wine on the carpet in the living room, hear your mother muttering and blotting with one hand, the other on her sister’s knee. You couldn’t see your aunt’s face from your perch on the staircase. Perhaps because it was elicit – you had been put to bed hours ago – or because you were curious – you had never seen an adult cry before – but you can recall the memory as if it were yesterday. From between the banisters of the stairs, only your aunt’s back was visible, hunched over and swaying as if unable to hold herself up right. It reminded you of your baby brother before he could hold his neck – precarious and loose in a way that was almost horrific in its vulnerability. She sways, back and forth, your mother’s hand on her knee - it’s alright, it’s just a spill, we’ll clean it up, don’t worry, it won’t stain – and then your aunt mutters the words you will forever remember for the rest of your life. The words butting up against each other, slurred on top of each other, she whispers:

“I woke up to a stranger.”

You think about your aunt and your mother and the fights and the wine and the calls and how you never saw your cousins much after that as you stare up at the shadowed ceiling, as lighting blinks reality white for a fraction of a second. Thunder rumbles, angry like your aunt, but for some reason you can’t feel anger. You don’t know what you feel but your jaw remains slacked, your joints sink into the sheets, your throat clear.

Another growl of thunder, a single shriek of the alarm clock at 3AM, and Frankie’s hand slaps it silent, the alarm unnatural and too loud, threatening to bring the ire down from some great furious eye. Rage you couldn’t begin to grasp at, but wished for. The fortifying self-righteousness of anger would feel lovely right now.

Instead, all you can hear is your aunt’s drunken words.

Beside you, Frankie is still through the next beat of thunder, the spark of lightning, and then he sits up. He faces away from you, shoulders rounded like your aunt, but firm and steady unlike your aunt. In the next snap of lightning, you watch the planes of his back glow, muscle and scars and bone and sinew just as familiar to you as your own hands. You could trace Frankie blind-folded if you had to. Your hand goes to him as it has an incalculable amount of times over the past few years, unaware of what your conscious mind knows: you can’t make him stay.

A stranger – how can he possibly be a stranger to me?

Your hand on his lower back stirs him, waking up to the heat of your palm.

“It won’t be long,” he says for the dozenth time, a mantra for him as well as you. “I’ll be back before Alejandra’s party.”

The Frankie you know, the Frankie you love would never even risk missing his daughter’s birthday. This hulking thing in the shape of your husband sees it as something worth losing, in favor of money. This hulking thing in the shape of your husband wants to provide, wants to prove there is a sliver of a better man beneath the coke addiction, beneath the suspension of his license. It wants to provide, provide, provide when all it does to you is take.

Neither of you know this now but it will take him over a month to come back, empty handed but filled to the brim with more nightmares than before. One month to the day of this night, you will google, “when is a missing person presumed dead?” and then close your laptop so hard, it shatters and you blow a hole in your bedroom wall with the force you throw it across the room.

This hulking thing in the shape of your husband is foreign to you, strange, but it still smells like him. Sounds like him. Has the same warm cup of his hands.

When you don’t respond, or even beg, he moves to stand, the slats under the bed groaning. He promised to fix those months ago.

He stands and your fingers curl around your husband’s wrist. Even the beat of his pulse sounds just like Frankie’s. But this is not your Frankie.

You hope to God and whatever else is listening that Frankie finds himself in the dark bowels of that wet jungle.

Your mouth dry and your own heartbeat loud in your ears, you look up at him, into those dark brown eyes that make up your whole world. They are unfamiliar to you as they watch you with an emotion you can’t ever remember seeing in his eyes before.

“I know you have to go,” and you do, you know this is something he has to do for himself, not for you or your daughter, but himself and there’s nothing you can do to stop him. “But do you have to leave right now?”

This hulking thing that smells like your husband, sounds like your husband, maybe loves you like your husband goes still. Beneath your fingertips, you swear his heartbeat slows. Lightning flashes again and you lose completely the shadowy outlines of his face in the total darkness.

And in that flash, his wrist slips out from between your fingers – this thing is going to be intentionally cruel as he cuts the cord and takes off with the soul of your husband – and then a broad hand slips down to your shoulder, your elbow. Gently pushing, guiding you back onto your side, he slips back under the covers, encasing your body in skin and warmth you know so well, muscle and scars and bone and sinew just as familiar to you as your own hands. His breath is soft, relaxing as he curls around you and you hate this thing even more because it really does a wonderful impersonation of your husband, the man you love, the man you will always love.

You let the tears come because you know they won’t break his fickle stone heart and you need relief.

He holds you as you cry, his nose in your ear as he says,

“I can stay for a little while longer.”

#1k followers #follower event #1k milestone #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fanfiction #francisco morales #frankie morales x ofc #francisco catfish morales #frankie catfish morales #triple frontier fic

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lovelykhaleesiii · 2 years ago

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I’m so happy your request are open again!

Could you do aemond comforting his wife while she’s on her period

thank you nonnie! so happy you sent in this ask, this is actually really perfect timing for me AHAHAHA god do I need my own Aemond right about now :(

hope you like this xx

Comfort this Agony

PAIRING: Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader

WORDS: 1,344.

WARNINGS: mentions of mensuration, period cramps and blood.

A/N - I think we can all assume most of the men in HOTD AU, especially the young ones are not too educated about woman's health and the whole idea of periods, so Aemond's a little clueless but he catches on pretty quick!

That familiar, dreadful sensation had been brewing in the pit of your stomach for past few days, and you knew precisely what was to follow. The unpredictable, emotional reactions to the smallest of things, the sudden craving to devour something sweet every few passing hours, [not to mention] how sensitive and swollen your breasts felt. It seemed the Gods had not yet blessed you with a babe in your belly, just yet...

Ever since you had entered the tipping point of your maidenhood many years and moons ago, it seemed you could never quite acclimate to the pain nor the goriness of your periods, despite many claiming womanhood to be a miraculous and beautiful thing. For many of those maturing years, you had been alone in seeking relief and solace during each visit of your monthly cycle, and yet now you had the companion of a man, a husband, in your life with whom would be present in these experiences.

A wonderful man, he is though...

"Aemond, baby-" You did not wish to stir him so abruptly from his deep, peaceful sleep. You'd witnessed how exhausting his day had progressed: training in the bright and early hours in the morrow, only to proceed in running errands on behalf of the realm, as the dutiful Prince Regent. Since, his return in the late hours of the evening, Aemond retired to bed, looking so defeated, as he clambered himself to bed, seeking your warm comfort and solace. After a solid year of marriage, you grew accustomed to reading his face, for he was a man of very few words: this time a weary look drenched across his handsome, pale face, desperate for an ounce of some good night's rest.

"Aemond-" You softly whispered again, although this time with some urgency in your broken voice. With each passing minute, as your husband began to stir awake, you could feel the warm, liquid oozing between your inner thighs. Slowly, wincing in great pain your begin to pull the bed sheets down, checking in the dim candlelight that the white linen are free from stains, as you examine the mess beneath.

Aemond hearing your faint winces, he immediately wakes up, seating himself up hastily as he focuses on you, realising the reason you'd awoken in the first place.

"Aemond, dearest, could you fetch me a wet towel, please." Without a second to spare, Aemond was wife awake, swiftly moving towards the bedside basin as he quickly rings the wet cloth and rushes it over towards you.

"I-I'm so sorry you have to see me like this, I-I must've miscalculated my cycle-"

"Do not apologise, my sweet girl." Aemond interrupts you, in his deep, tender sleepy voice. Instinctively, his hand reaches over stroking your back gently, as you attempt to wipe yourself clean.

"Does it hurt my dearest?" He quiveringly questions, as he observes you with a sorrowful look on his face, his eye glancing from the bloody mess to your tearful, flustered face.

“Hmm, just a little. Nothing I haven’t endured before," You muster, although he can tell the pain is agonising, as you struggle to maintain focus with him, your bashful face slightly contorting in pain from the sharp cramps.

"You must be disgusted by me, I apologise, Aemond-" You persisted, as you stood yourself up in a haste, rummaging through the wooden wardrobe for your thick, sanitary cloths you used to fold into a makeshift pad. Just before you'd turned your back towards Aemond, ashamed of the sight unfolding before him, you noticed his face look away for a slip second, a hint of frustration strewed across.

Laying the folded pads neatly in your undergarments, you adjusted yourself comely, before turning to face Aemond, who remained focused on you.

A defeated sigh escapes his defined mouth, before he turns to look down at the bloody stained mess before him, remnant of where you had once laid comfortably.

"Seven Hells!" You cry out, as you hastily rush forward to undo the sheets from the mattress. Although, a firm grip of a large, rough hand tugging you by the wrist, caught your motions. He pulled you down, gesturing you to seat yourself on a clean spot near the foot of the bed by him, his thumb stroking your soft, cool skin.

“Y/N, I need you to stop apologising. You need not to be sorry over such matters. I must confess, shamefully, I do not know much about these things. Naturally, from what I’ve seen with my mother and Helaena, however, I do know that it is not a pleasant experience. Tell me what I can do to help you, my love."

"I-I just want to rest but I'll have to change these sheets. I know how tired you are, Aemond, and I apologise for waking you-"

"Jorrāelagon [Love], what did I mention about the apologising, hmm? I do not care if I miss a few hours of sleep, I cannot rest if you are hurting."

A slight tilt to your head, as you longingly fastened your gaze upon the dearest man before you, a heartfelt smile beaming on your face naturally.

"You take a seat by the fire, I'll fetch a maid to help me change the sheets. Do you wish for some milk of the poppy or some other remedy for the pain?"

Aemond stands himself up, before pulling you up with him, as he walks you over slowly towards the chair by the fire, grabbing his pillow as he props it appropriately, behind your back.

"I-I'll just have a peppermint tea, if that's possible. I find it helps ease the pain. But A-Aemond, please, I can help you change the sheets-"

"Nonsense, you will do no such thing, ābrazȳrys [wife]. You need to rest now." He plants a soft kiss on your hand as he kneels before you, making certain you are well adjusted and comfortable for the mean time.

He leaves the room swiftly, after donning a loose, linen white shirt, and some evening, black trousers. Intent on completing the tasks he'd set out to do on your behalf.

****

The bed linen now changed, clean and fresh, you settled yourself back into the cosy, soft material, as Aemond fetched the brewing kettle and tea from the servant at the door, along with some extra goodies he instructed to bring.

"Aemond, you spoil me so..." You whisper sweetly, as you take the hot mug from his hands, as he rests the half filled kettle by the table, close by in case you wish for a refill.

"It is too late in the hour to be eating these sweets, please join me."

"Do not fret, my dearest. I've noticed from before what you crave in these times. I wish for you to be sated and nothing less." He utters, a gentle smile on his face, as he watches the relief wash over you taking the first sip of the tea. His hand rests over your stomach covered by the sheet, making sure not to exert too much pressure.

"Do you wish for me to massage you? I can help soothe the pain."

"No-No, it is fine, husband-"

Although, there was no use protesting. His hand instinctively began to gently move from side to side, as he began to knead against the tender, swollen pit of your lower stomach.

"Do not think you should endure this matter alone, Y/N. I am your husband... I intend to comfort this agony by your side, as I vowed before the realm and the Gods, many moons ago. To love you in sickness and in health."

Reassuringly holding his tough hand in yours, you pull on his long fingers, encouraging him to move closer. Your hand now reaching over, cupping his chiseled face, you plant a long, soft kiss on his forehead as he leans towards you. You contemplate how blessed to have been, to have an endearing, unfaltering husband, such as Aemond by your side.

"You are far too good to me, Aemond. How could I have been so lucky?"

#aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #hotd imagines #hotd imagine #hotd fanfiction

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nicoline1998enilocin · 1 year ago

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Wedding crasher

PAIRING | Sebastian Stan x Best Friend!Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 4K

SUMMARY | Today is the day you're getting married to the love of your life, or so you thought. When Sebastian confesses his love for you when you're standing at the altar, you're faced with the hardest decision you'd ever have to make.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Swearing, angst, runaway bride, smut [ Light praise kink, light breeding kink, oral F&M receiving, face riding, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, people!), multiple orgasms, implied aftercare ].

A/N | I'd love to start writing more requests (not just for Sebastian, but for all people/characters on my Masterlist) so if you would like to send me a request, please don't hesitate! 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜

Main Masterlist | Sebastian Stan Masterlist

You still can't believe what you did, and you're wondering if you made the right choice. Sure, it felt nothing more than perfect the moment you decided to say yes, but now the aftermath of your actions is starting to dawn on you when you look at the naked man in bed next to you. You were naked too and had an amazing few hours before the two of you fell asleep, but there will always be a little voice in the back of your head that wonders. The more you think about it however, the more it seems to be okay, and a small smile starts tugging at the corners of your mouth. You said yes to the man you want to spend the rest of your life with, and wouldn't want to have it any other way.

~ Earlier that morning ~

''How is the blushing bride-to-be doing today?'' Sebastian asks when he calls you, it is the morning of your wedding to your soon-to-be husband Milo. ''I'm okay, nervous, but that's to be expected when you're about to give yourself to someone else for the rest of your lives, right?'' you ask him, a hint of something in your voice, a little bit of uncertainty laced in there. ''You're going to be okay, Duckie, I promise. And if not, well, you're always welcome to come crash at my place,'' Sebastian said and you know he means it, you've spent many nights on his couch after you and Milo had a big fight. Despite all that, the two of you are getting married today, and you're happy, though you're only 99% sure you should go through with this, and this 1% might get you into trouble later today.

''I know, but it won't be necessary today,'' you told Sebastian and you weren't even entirely convinced of your own words. ''I have to go now though, still have to get ready for the start of the rest of my life,'' and with that, you and Sebastian said your goodbyes. You look over to your wedding dress, which is hanging on the closet door of the bridal suite you're currently getting ready in, and you think about the fact that the one person you want to be there, won't be. Sebastian. After many long discussions and arguments with Milo, you decided not to invite him to keep the peace in your relationship. He has always been jealous of your bond with Sebastian, even though you reassured him a million times it wasn't necessary.

A single tear slips out of the corner of your eye, and you quickly wipe it away before more can follow right behind. You hear a knock on your door and get up to see who's on the other side, and it's your friend Joy, who promised she would do your hair today. ''Hey babe, come in!'' you said with a big smile and you open your arms to pull her in for a big hug. ''Are you okay? You look like there's something wrong,'' she asks, and it is like she can see right through you. ''Yeah, no, I'm fine. Everything's fine...'' you sighed while shaking your head. ''You know what, no, it's not fine and I refuse to keep things in, even on my wedding day,'' you started your rant.

''I just got a call from Seb, and it just fucking sucks he can't be here on my wedding day. Like, the one person I want to be here isn't even invited and I think it's fucking unfair! I just don't get why Milo is so worried, it's not like Seb and I are having an affair or anything, we're just friends,'' you say, the corners of your mouth slightly turning down at the thought of just being friends, and Joy notices, of fucking course she does. ''I know I will be a shitty friend if I don't say this, so here it goes. Are you sure you're making the right decision today, by marrying Milo? I know you love him, and he loves you, but I have a feeling there might be more to this friendship with Seb than you show me. I don't want you to walk down that aisle and do something that'll make you unhappy for the rest of your life,'' she says and you swallow the lump in your throat away.

She's right, you know she is, even though you don't want to admit it out loud. ''No, we're just best friends, that's all,'' you tell her, trying to sound confident and for a second you think it works because she doesn't push any further. That little seed, however, has been firmly planted in your head now. ''Come on, let's do some bridal hair,'' she says and she guides you to the vanity, reassuringly squeezing your shoulders to let you know she's behind you, no matter what choice you will make. About an hour and a half later, your bridal hair is done, and it is time for your make-up.

''Alright, I have to go get ready now, but I will see you at the ceremony. I love you, Y/N, don't you ever forget that,'' she says as she pulls you in for another hug. ''I love you too, Joy, more than you'll ever know,'' you said and you're thankful for having a friend like her. You have a few minutes before Ella, your make-up artist arrives to do your make-up and decide to text Sebastian. You can't get the conversation with Joy out of your head, and can't stop thinking about him not being there.

Duckie 🐥 | I wish you could be here today... God, I miss you so fucking much, it hurts... 🥺

You don't have to wait long to get your answer, within less than a minute Sebastian texted you back.

Seb 💙 | I'm sorry, Duckie, I wish I could be there too. But I know you'll be gorgeous in your dress, so if I would be there I don't think I'd let you walk down that aisle. I would just grab you before you can walk down and keep you all to myself 😉

Seeing his text made your heart beat a thousand times faster. God, this man was doing things to you he really shouldn't. But little do you know, he's closer to the wedding venue than you think, because he has a plan to make his words a reality. He has seen how miserable you are in your relationship with Milo and is determined to at least let you know you have a choice before you go through with the biggest decision of your life.

Before you can answer again you hear a knock on your door again, and it's Ella this time, here to do your make-up. ''Hi, come on in and thank you for being here,'' you say sincerely. She has done your make-up for lots of different occasions, and it wouldn't feel right if she wasn't the one doing your make-up. You settled on a natural look, so your dress and hair can take all the shine they need today. ''You look gorgeous, Y/N, and congratulations again!'' she says before walking out the door. Now you're left all alone, and it's time for you to get into your dress. You picked one that you could get on and off by yourself, and you're glad about that fact now.

Once it's on you stand in front of the lifesize mirror and snap a photo, sending it to Sebastian. He might not be there today, but that doesn't mean he won't get to see how beautiful you look today. All you get back are emojis with heart eyes, and you couldn't be happier, it feels good. Now it's time to go down and walk down the aisle, so you slip into your shoes before heading down, ready to be walked down the aisle by your stepdad. ''Are you ready, darling?'' he asks as you hook your arm in his, and you nod. ''I am, Phil, thank you,'' you say, and not long after, the music starts, signifying that you're coming down the aisle.

~ The wedding ceremony ~

The doors in front of you open, and you get a full view of everyone standing, looking back at you and Phil. Your eyes glide past all the guests, searching for Sebastian, even though you know it won't get you anything. He isn't there, and even though you're well aware of it, your mind still unconsciously searches for him in every room you walk into. You see the white roses adorning the wedding aisle, the white carpet down the path, adorned with light pink rose petals from the flower girls that walked there before you. And then, you look up and look right into the eyes of the man you're going to marry, Milo. You give him a small smile, and he wipes away a few tears at the sight of you.

Your legs walk forward as if they're on autopilot, and before you know it, you're at the front of the aisle, and the guests are sitting down. ''Congratulations, darling, I love you,'' Phil says before giving your hand away to Milo. ''You look beautiful, baby,'' he whispers in your ear and it makes you blush, you're still not used to getting compliments, even after all these years you've been together. ''So do you,'' you say as you look at Milo in a dark blue suit, his hair neatly slicked back, but still a little fluffy, just the way he likes it. You go and stand in front of him after giving your bouquet to Joy, who was also your maid-of-honor, and she smiled at you with a knowing look.

The official ceremony started, and now it's time for the ring exchange. ''Do you, Y/N Y/L/N, take Miles Smiths as your husband, to have and to hold from this day forward for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish until death do you part?'' he asks, and before you can say ''I do'', the doors you walked through earlier swing open, making your eyes snap up to who opened them. There was a loud gasp coming from the guests, and as soon as you locked eyes with the person standing there, your heart started beating a mile a minute. There he is, the person you want to be here more than anyone, he showed up. Sebastian's here, and he won't leave without you.

''What the fuck is he doing here?'' Milo hissed through his teeth at you, but you didn't care. You didn't even look at him, your eyes were fixed on Sebastian in his light blue suit that matched his eyes perfectly. He's walking towards the altar and ignoring every protest that is thrown his way, before stopping in front of you. ''Duckie, you don't have to marry him, I know you don't want to. If you give me the chance, I will show you what real love looks like. I promise to worship you every single minute every single way, in everything that I do. I love you, Duckie, and I'm sorry, but I can't let you marry him without letting you know how I feel. So please, come with me, and I will love you deeper than you ever thought possible,'' he says, slightly out of breath.

''You're fucking stupid if you think she's going with you. She's here to marry me, not you, now is she? Leave us alone, and if I-'' Milo said before he was cut off by you. ''Milo, don't.'' is all you said before looking back at Sebastian, and in your gut you know what you had to do. You looked back at Joy who only gave you a small nod and a very knowing smile, and that is all the push you need to lift the bottom of your dress, walk down the 3 steps and take Sebastian's hand before running out of the wedding venue together. Now, you're officially a runaway bride and you never felt this free before.

~ After the ceremony ~

Sebastian quickly opens his passenger-side door for you and you step in before you can change your mind, not that you were planning on doing so. Sebastian walked to the driver's side and at that moment Milo ran outside to see him get in the car and drive off with his now ex-fiancée. ''Holy shit, I can't believe I did that,'' you laugh breathily, the realization dawning on you that you ran away from your wedding, to start a life with your best friend, the man who you love more than anyone in this entire world. ''I can, and I'm fucking happy you did Duckie,'' he says, making you smile at the nickname he gave you years ago after he found out about your obsession with ducks.

You give him the directions to the hotel you were supposed to go to with Milo, but you don't care anymore. Right now you want to share every single second you can with Sebastian, and both of you plan to take full advantage of the situation right now. When he pulls into the parking garage of the hotel he quickly parks before the two of you get out and go to the check-in desk. ''Hi, we have a reservation under Y/L/N,'' you tell the lady behind the desk. ''Ah, congratulations on your wedding!'' she said and you looked at Seb. ''Thank you so much, I can't believe I finally get to call her my wife,'' he said, pulling you closer and placing a kiss on your temple. It makes your heart race and the butterflies in your stomach go crazy.

The lady gives you the pass to the bridal suite and before you know it, you're in the elevator, pushed against the wall by Sebastian who can't wait any longer. He softly held on to your face while carefully pushing your back against the wall as he captured your lips in a kiss, which is something he wanted to do for years now, and he feels amazing knowing that he finally has the chance to kiss you, without thinking about the consequences. For now at least. The elevator bell dings notifying you that you've arrived and he picks you up bridal style so you let out a shriek. ''Seb, we're not at the room yet!'' you say laughing.

You unlock the door with the keycard and push it open before Sebastian walks in, still holding you in his arms and looking at you with nothing but pure adoration in your eyes, and it's been a long time since anyone has looked at you like that. ''I love you, Seb, more than I'll ever be able to express in words,'' you say before leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to his pink, plump lips. He stops for a few seconds to kiss you back, and when you pull apart he walks to the bed, which is adorned with red rose petals. You kick off your heels before you stand up, so Sebastian can take off your dress.

He pulls the zipper of your dress down when you pulled your hair out of the way, and lets his hand caress the skin that gets exposed by every inch the zipper goes down. He's biting his bottom lip as he slides the sleeves down your shoulders, and the fabric falls to the floor, revealing the white lingerie that you wore underneath, and Sebastian softly gasps when you turn around. ''Fuckin' hell, I can't believe what I've missed out on all these years,'' he whispers as he trails small kisses from your cheek down your jaw and neck, over your shoulder and collarbone, and into the valley of your breasts.

You push his suit jacket off and it falls to the floor as well, followed by his shirt. You can't help but run your hands over the firm planes of his abs as he pulls off the shirt, and now it's your turn to softly gasp. You can see how hard he is right now, and it must be aching, so you do the only thing that feels right. You sink to your knees and unbutton his pants, pulling the zipper and then the pants down so he can step out of them. ''Hm, been thinking about sucking this dick for a while,'' you say as you look up at him from your position, which only gets him harder as his dick twitches in front of your face.

You palm him through his boxer briefs, feeling exactly how hard he is for you right now, and he lets out deep groans at the feeling of your hand on him. ''Please, wrap those pretty lips around it and suck me 'til I shoot my cum down that gorgeous throat,'' Sebastian says and you happily comply. His boxer slides down easily and lands on the floor, receiving the same treatment as all the other clothes. You waste no time and wrap your lips around his thick, red, weeping dick. Precum is already leaking from the tip and you softly suckle on the tip, earning yourself another groan out of the man's chest.

''Fuck,'' he grunts as his fists wind their way into your hair and he pulls softly, making you moan around him, the vibrations are shooting up his spine as he bucks his hips forward. His rock-hard cock is shoved right into your throat and you're glad you don't have too much of a gag reflex, otherwise, you would have a whole different type of conversation right now. You take it in stride as Sebastian keeps thrusting down your throat, and you moan around him while he chants your name like a prayer at the feeling of your warm mouth and throat around him. You keep sucking in your cheeks to give him even more pleasure and before you know it, he shoots ropes and ropes of cum down your throat, and you swallow every last drop of it.

''Jesus, shoulda done that way sooner,'' he grunts as he falls backward onto the bed, and you get up, before crawling onto the bed to straddle him. ''Bein' such a good boy for me, hm?'' you ask as you lean forward, your chest pressing down on his as he's still coming down from his orgasm. ''Yeah, 'm a good boy,'' he says with a small smile on his lips. You kiss him softly, making sure he doesn't crash down from his post-orgasmic bliss and you feel his hands on you, caressing your waist and hips, back to your ass where he gives a soft squeeze. ''Mine,'' he says and he gives it a soft slap with both hands at the same time, and you shoot forward.

''All yours, Seb, it's all for you,'' you coo at him and his arms make their way up your back and to the clasps of your bra. ''Need it off,'' he said and he unhooks it quickly, so you sit up and let him guide the lacy fabric down your arms and onto the floor. Without hesitation he reaches out for your nipples and softly flicks them before squeezing and tugging a little, earning soft moans from you as you writhe on his lap, making him hard again. ''C'mere, sit on my face,'' Sebastian says and you do without a single doubt, making your way onto his chest and his face. ''Wanna taste you, Duckie,'' he says as his strong arms wrap around your thighs.

He pushes you down onto his mouth and starts sucking and licking over your panties, the feeling of the fabric against your clit making you go a little crazy. ''Seb, let me take it off,'' you say as you want to get up, but he doesn't let you. Instead, he pushes it aside and starts eating you out like a man who hasn't eaten in weeks. You moan loudly as he sucks, licks, and kisses your clit, and fucks his tongue inside your entrance. ''S-Seb, 'm close!'' you whine and he takes it as an invitation to attack your clit, making you cum violently in less than a minute afterward. Your legs are shaking as you're coming down from your high, your hands pressed against Sebastian's chest as you try to keep yourself from falling over.

He gently lifts you off of his face and lays you down on the bed, before finally sliding down your panties and positioning himself between your legs. ''Can't wait to feel you wrapped around me, Duckie, never gonna leave,'' he says as he leans down for a kiss, deepening it slowly. Neither of you are in a rush, and you're taking in every single second together. ''Seb, please, fuck me. Want you to put a baby in me,'' you say, not entirely thinking straight, but not regretting what you said either. ''Yeah? Wanna be round with my child? Show everyone our love?'' he asks and you just nod, that's all you want.

''Alright, since you asked so nicely, I will put a baby in ya,'' he says and he grabs his hard cock in his right hand, stroking up and down a few times before moving it through your folds, earning himself a moan. ''Gonna put it in, baby. 'S gonna be a stretch, but you'll take it, won't you?'' he says and you just moan softly in response, you can't wait to feel him slide inside you until he's bottomed out. The first burn is quickly replaced by pleasure as he works more of himself in you. Not long after he's completely inside you, he's home. ''Fuck, feels good,'' you say and Sebastian agrees.

He softly pulls back out before thrusting back in with a bit of force, but not too much. Right now isn't about lust, it's about making nothing but pure, unadulterated love to each other. Soft moans and skin slapping against the skin can be heard throughout the room, but neither of your is rushing it, instead taking it slow and enjoying each other. There are slow, lazy kisses exchanged, and it doesn't take long before you're almost at the edge of another orgasm. ''Seb, 'm close, please, make me cum for you,'' you tell him, and he doesn't have to be told twice. He picks up his pace a little and reaches down to your clit, rubbing it until you fall apart under him.

''S-SEB, yes, f-fuck!'' is all you say as you cum again, and not long after you're being followed by Sebastian, shooting his cum deep inside you before slowly pulling out, and getting a washcloth to clean both of you up. ''Here you go, Duckie, all clean again,'' he says before laying down next to you, and pulling you into his chest, as he puts a kiss on your forehead. ''That was amazing, and I can't wait to do that every single night,'' he says, earning himself a glare from you. ''Kidding, Duckie,'' he said and you closed your eyes and sighed, feeling safe in his arms, and you press a kiss on his cheek. ''Thank you for doing that, you made me see what I was missing out on, and I'm glad I finally found where I belong,'' you say and Sebastian just hugs you tighter at your words.

A few hours have passed, and you look over at Sebastian, who's almost asleep next to you in the wedding suite of the hotel. Naked. Beautiful. And you feel happier than you ever have in your life, and this is when you realize you made the right decision, it was Sebastian all this time, and you were too stupid to see it until now. You cuddle up to him and he nuzzles his nose in your hair. ''Love you, my Duckie,'' he says in your hair and you smile so big it feels like your face is splitting apart. ''Love you too, Seb, more than you'll ever know,'' you whisper as you fall into a deep sleep, content in the arms of the man you love, so so much.

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan angst #seb stan #seb stan fanfic #seb stan fanfiction #seb stan x female reader #seb stan x reader #seb stan x y/n #seb stan fluff #seb stan smut #seb stan angst

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thebadgerclan · 2 years ago

Text

Justice

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Summary: Justice is served

There is an execution depicted in this (nothing overly graphic), so proceed w/ caution

Part 2 to Salvation

The King’s condition had drastically improved since his….treatments with Doctor Orolv had ceased, but he was not healed. Nikolai’s hands still trembled, he still felt the demon creeping in his mind, dragging its talons against his consciousness, the fear of it breaking free gnawed at him, but one look from you, one touch of your hand against his sent the demon skittering to the corners of his mind, leaving the King’s mind completely and utterly his.

Since your husband had moved back into your rooms, since he began spending his nights wrapped in your embrace, the demon had not come out, it hadn’t even tried to emerge. And Nikolai was happier, he was more productive; his wit and banter was back, he was back. And it was all thanks to you. Nikolai had been going mad, he knew it, thanks to the so-called Doctor recruited to rid him of the demon. She had tortured him: waterboarding, whipping, branding, starvation, isolation.

All any of that served to do was anger the demon, rile it up. And when Nikolai passed you in the corridors, unable to speak to you by his “Doctor’s” order, the demon would buck, fight harder than it ever had to get free. Little did Nikolai know that you would be his salvation, not his downfall. Now, Orlov was in a cell and the King had never felt better.

Nikolai peppered your face with kisses, drawing you from sleep. “Hmm, Kolya,” you mumbled as you stretched, the silk sheets slipping from your body. “Good morning, my beloved wife,” Nikolai said, kissing his way down your neck. “My goddess, my angel, my beautiful Y/N.” You smiled, accepting your husband’s kisses. “Darling, as lovely of a wakeup as this is, I don’t have time for your distractions this morning.”

Your husband smirked. “Oh? Even when my distractions are so very enjoyable?” He dragged his nails over your side, making you squeal with laughter, and you extracted yourself from bed. “Yes, even then, my love.” Nikolai watched as you darted behind the dressing screen, a sleepy smile on his face. But when you emerged, wearing your kefta rather than a gown, Nikolai’s smile faded.

He knew that look that you wore: it was the look you wore when doling out punishments, the look you wore when reading guilty verdicts at court. This was not the look of his gentle, loving Queen; this was the look of his Queen going to war. “You’re doing it today?” he asked, and you nodded, securing your hair back in a simple braid. “I am. She’s been interrogated and cross examined. A unanimous guilty verdict.”

Laisia Orlov, former physician, was set to be executed today for high treason and conspiring against the Crown. And she would die at the Queen’s hand. A Rakvan Queen had not performed an execution in nearly 200 years, but this case warranted an exception. “I’ll be there,” Nikolai said, rising from bed. “You won’t have to do it alone.” Nikolai knew your reservations about this, but your desire for revenge and justice far outweighed them.

“Thank you, my love,” you said, resting your head against his shoulder. “I’ll see you soon.” You would visit your prisoner one final time before she was brought to the Square for the execution, where Nikolai would hand down the sentence. Your guards flanked you as you made your way down several flights of stone stairs, into the belly of the Palace. Orlov was kept in the smallest cell, barely enough room to stand in, yet she sat as you approached.

“Come to berate me some more?” she snarked, and you scoffed. “No. I’m here to offer you your last rights. Not that there’s much hope of repenting at this point.” Laisia’s eyes went wide. “You’re going to kill me?” “Did you really think there was another fate for you? After you tortured your King half to death?” Laisia laughed, a cold, wicked sound. “He is no King of mine. That man is infected with evil and darkness, and I will be rewarded by the Saints for my efforts to save this wretched nation.”

You crossed your arms, looking down your nose at her. “If that’s what you choose to believe. Make your peace. You have a half hour.” You spun on your heel and left, ignoring her cries of protest, the hatred she spewed. Outside, the Square was packed with Ravka’s nobility, the judges, the lawmakers, the physicians–the real physicians–you’d brought in to corroborate Laisia’s argument. Unsurprisingly, they were all appalled by her methods, confirming what you should have suspected from the start: she was a radical intent on killing the King.

Nikolai smiled when he saw you approaching, dressed in his military dress uniform. “My darling,” he greeted, kissing your cheek. “Any news from my wonderful doctor?” You shook your head. “Other than the fact that you’re ‘infected with evil and darkness’, no.” Nikolai shrugged. “Well, we already knew that, didn’t we?” “How are you so nonchalant about this?” you asked. “This woman tried to kill you, tortured you, and you’re joking about it.”

Your husband cupped your cheeks gently. “Because, my love, she is nothing. Yes, I was tortured, yes, it was horrible. But you, Y/N, brought me back. You saved me, you keep me grounded, you keep the demon at bay. My salvation, my love, my Y/N. If I have you, then nothing else matters.” His declaration would have normally made you throw yourself into his arms, but the jeering of the crowd drew your attention.

Laisia Orlov was being led out by armed guards, her hands and ankles bound. “Let’s get this over with, yeah?” Nikolai said, and you squeezed his hand. “Yeah.” He kissed your cheek and you stepped from the raised dais, walking to the center of the Square. The guards kicked Orlov to her knees and dispersed, leaving the prisoner to you. She looked at you with hatred, and you looked back with equal measure.

“Laisia Orlov,” Nikolai called, silencing the crowd. “You have been brought before your King and court charged with high treason. A jury of your peers has found you unanimously guilty and has sentenced you to death. How do you plead?” Laisia, to her credit, did not cry, did not tremble. “I am not guilty,” she responded, voice steady. “I sought only to purge the madness from you, and in return, I am to be murdered.”

Nikolai did not cower. “As decided by the jury, Queen Y/N Lantsov will carry out the execution in a manner of her choosing. My love…” he gestured to you, indicating that you may proceed. “Any last words?” “This will not last,” she spat. “It will return, rot his mind, drive him to madness. Soon, your dear King won’t know the difference between the heavens and the earth.” You bent so your face was inches from hers. “I will stand with him between the heavens and the earth,” you hissed. “If that is what he needs.”

You straightened and folded your hands, calling your power. You started by slowing her heart, just enough to make her panic. Then you cut off her airway, made her pain receptors fire, severed her aorta. Finally, you flicked your wrists and snapped her neck, ending her life. The crowd cheered, and you forced yourself to breathe. You had killed before, yes, but that had been in war, in self defense, this was…..

You felt dizzy, like the ground was swaying beneath you, but before you stumbled, Nikolai was there, steadying you. “I’ve got you,” he whispered, kissing your temple. “You’re alright, sweetheart, I’ve got you.” You nodded, letting him lead you back into the Palace. Orlov’s body would be cleaned and returned to her family; you could offer them that small mercy. “Nikolai, I–” “Shh, it’s ok. Let me carry you for a while.”

He didn’t mean literally, though your legs were certainly shaky enough. You’d carried him for the past few weeks while he recovered, supported him while his mind and body healed. Now he would carry you, comfort you as you processed what you’d just done. “Justice,” you whispered. “Yes, my love,” your husband replied, kissing your cheek. “Justice. You gave me justice.”

#nikolai lantsov x reader #shadow and bone fanfiction #nikolai lantsov x you #shadow and bone reader insert

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actuallysaiyan · 10 months ago

Note

Work husband!Nanami

who actually developed feelings for you but tries to keep it professional and platonic, yet never shys away from how you refer to him as "husband" and other cute nicknames around other coworkers (Or Gojo, Ino, Shoko, etc). He openly expressed that you don't do that in the beginning but now just accepts it since you put the idea in his head. He puts up with worse things from Gojo, anyway

Who cherishes after work bar hopping with you where after a few drinks his real feelings start to show and he expressss how he would love to cook you a real meal (or better version of one of the bar meals) after work instead of shitty bar food after a long day of work.

Who memorizes your favorite orders so you never miss lunch or breakfast depending on the day, especially when training the 1st year students at Jujutsu

Who has definitely fantasized the many areas inside the building where in a weak moment when he's alone with you he can fuck you against windows, desks, walls, inside cramp closets, stairwells, and openly refer to you as his wife getting punished for teasing him all day, then proceed with the rest of the work day like nothing happened but with a little smirk on his face. A vivid daydream like that and he has to excuse himself from you for a while to distract his mind or take care of himself 😌

Holy fucking SHIT

OH GOD OH JESUS I WANT TO TURN THIS INTO A FULLY FLEDGED FIC OH GOODDDDDD

He just absolutely melts whenever you're so sweet and take up for him. You defend him whenever Gojo tries to be rude and says something mean about Nanami(which is Gojo's way of trying to impress you and flirt with you). Nanami feels his heart soar whenever you take up for him and tell Gojo in the kindest way possible to leave poor Nanami alone.

His whole body shudders whenever he feels you touching him. You like to give him shoulder rubs and you hang off of him a bit as he fills out the report from your latest mission. In his mind, he's basically your husband. It feels like it anyway. If only he could just take you out on a proper date.

And whenever he begins to fantasize about you, it makes his cock throb. He has to leave the room sometimes, his face still stoic in nature, and he makes an excuse about needing to go fetch something or someone. But really he's just trying to find the quietest and most private place he can take care of his little big problem.

Nanami dreams of you at night. Alone in his apartment, he tosses and turns while thinking of you under him. The fantasies become even more intense as he dreams of actually making you his wife. He never thought it would come to this point but damn...he's whipped.

Maybe the next day at work, you might find some flowers on your desk or in your locker. And along with those flowers, a note that's addressed to you.

Dinner tonight. My place. 8pm.

#bacon.thirsts #nanami kento #THIS IS SO PERFECT UGHHH THANK YOU FOR BLESSING ME #I WANT TO WRITE THIS OUT AS A FULLY FLEDGED FIC BUT IM LIKE DAMN IDK IF I COULD EVEN DO IT JUSTICE

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rose-and-thorn-fanfics · 3 months ago

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“A Far Fall From The Heights Of Heaven” A Dio Brando x Self Insert Fanfic

The sun set like red gold over Cairo, and I watched my older sister Denise get in her wedding dress. I remembered saying she was crazy for wanting her wedding all the way in Egypt. But to be honest? Now I was grateful. Egypt was magical. I could feel it in the air.

We were in the crammed storage rooms of an old church, where she was getting ready before she walked down the aisle. I got emotional thinking about my sister all grown up and married!

The ceremony went well, and the wedding vows were moving, but it was all quite overwhelming, and after my mom made a crude comment to my aunt about me being unfuckable and certainly undatable, I felt like I needed fresh air and a place to run off too.

After Denise left with her new husband, I left through the back door. I wandered a bit down some streets, crying a bit, when a convertible pulled up in front of me. I froze, unsure of how to proceed. The men in the car offered me a ride, and I got the sense I was dead if I didn’t take it, considering my cornered situation. My heart was racing as I took a seat in the back. They drive through the streets to more lavish areas. Hours into the drive I felt like kicking myself, but to be honest? I was too tired to try anything drastic like jumping out of the car. It seemed silly anyway. The night breeze lulled me to sleep, and I woke up when the convertible stopped abruptly in front of—an Egyptian mansion looking structure? what the heck?!

The men got out and pulled me roughly from the car, dragging me into the well guarded mansion, which was pretty much a fort in its function. I figured things weren’t looking too great for me, so when they brought me through a maze into a lavish lounge room I was relieved they let me rest, collapsing on the floor from exhaustion. I didn’t bother lifting my eyes from the floor where I lay until—

“What’s this, gentleman? You seem to have treated our guest quite poorly. She looks exhausted.” A smooth voice overtook my senses, and I became well aware of a presence on one of the ornate lounges. His hair was golden blonde, and this man… no… surely more than a man, this god was handsome beyond my wildest dreams. He reclined on his side, shirtless (revealing beautifully defined muscles). I blushed, suddenly aware that my bridesmaid dress was barely staying up on my chest. “Bring the sweet mademoiselle to me so I can… be more hospitable.” I felt my tired body lifted and laid down next to him on the velvet upholstery. It felt good to lay down, I knew it was reckless and stupid to comply, but I’d been on my feet all day attending to my sister’s wedding, and this felt good.

“Allow me to introduce myself,” the handsome god said. I shivered, my spine tingling as I felt his breath on my exposed neck. He gestured for the men who had brought me there to leave. “You may call me Lord Dio.” He explained, as if it was the most natural thing in the world how close we were to each other.

I nodded, looking up at him with wonder. “Yes, my Lord.” I whispered.

Dio looked satisfied, taking a sip from a glass of…wine? No… this was too thick for wine. I should’ve freaked out by now. ‘This seems like a cult’, I thought.

“I can offer you many things, beautiful.” Lord Dio explained charismatically.

My heart dropped. ‘Yeah, definitely a cult.’

“Eternal beauty, riches, and lots of pleasure.” Dio continued.

“Who are you, Satan or something?” I joked timidly.

Lord Dio frowned. “No, a bit different. You’re religious, I take it?”

“Not a whole lot. I used to be… but, well, it felt so hollow.” I explained, watching Dio regain his amused demeanor.

“I can give you something better to worship. But it will come with a cost.”

“I’m broke so…I’m not really in a position to be paying—“

Dio flipped me to face him parallel, and pinned me there. “Now you are. This is a great position for what I desire.”

I realized what he wanted in that moment, and a little rebellious part of me wanted to give it to him. To prove my mother wrong about being unfuckable.

Dio gently placed his hand on my waste, and I tried to stifle a sigh as my body pressed up against his. “May I, mademoiselle?” He whispered in my ear.

“Yes.” I swooned. Screw safety. I needed this. “But I should warn you I’m a—“

“Virgin? Yes. I figured as much.” Dio said, completely unzipping my dress. “You’re too sweet to be anything else.”

My dress fell away, revealing my figure. Dio didn’t waste any time, his lips went straight to my neck and his hands…. Oh god, I was not prepared for the sensation of his hands traveling up my thighs, fingering my pussy, and teasing my clit until it was gaping with pleasure. Then he pulled his fingers out and dug them into my waist til I bled small droplets of blood. I winced, but I could tell the pressure he applied was very calculated so as not to be too painful and outdo any pleasure he was giving me with his mouth.

Lord Dio kissed and caressed my breasts, carefully making his way down to where he had drawn blood from my plump folds of flesh at my waist. The way he lapped up the blood with his tongue sent shivers down my spine and had my breathing become heavy with lust. This was better than any sexual act I’d read about in my favorite smutty books. This was the real thing, and Dio seemed to know every physical and sexual weakness I had. Weaknesses as a first timer I was completely unaware of.

Then he repositioned me on my back and spread my legs further apart. He smirked as he saw my wide eyed expression.

In between panting I gasped, “Shouldn’t we use protec—“

His giant hard cock rammed into my soft pussy, and I let out a cry of surprise. Dio persisted in pushing it further, no matter how tight it was for his large length. I shed tears, but got no sympathy, only the sound of his own groans and growls of ecstasy. I braced my body as he pushed it in and pulled it out repeatedly. I was drooling with overstimulation until finally he left it in, filling me with an absurd amount of his cum.

Then Dio did something unexpected, repositioning and holding me close, his dick still deep inside me. He rubbed my back and held me tightly, in a comforting way. “There there…” he soothed me with his low voice, as smooth as liquid gold. I took this as a sign to press up against him. I wrapped my legs around his waist and cried softly, my teary cheek pressed against his pecs. He laughed softly, acknowledging my vulnerability with a kiss on the top of my head and a quiet moan of satisfaction. I fell asleep in his arms, exhausted from all the sexual excitement.

When I woke up, Dio was still asleep. I had to check the clock on the nightstand to see what time it was as there were no windows in the room to let in light that indicated whether it was day or night. I covered my mouth to suppress a yelp of shock. It was afternoon of the next day. I was supposed to be helping my mom set up the wedding reception venue!

Dio stirred, rolling over and opening an eye to observe my distress at the time. He mumbled about how it was too early to be awake, and I should join him back in bed.

I sighed. I couldn’t say no, gazing at his sleepy expression. Even a bit disheveled Dio looked like a fucking king. I climbed back in bed. Who’s to say I had to show up for the reception? It was more my mom’s event than my sister Denise’s event. My mom had taken full control of all the planning and didn’t let my sister have a say in anything. Besides… I had been kidnapped! I was practically… helpless.

I sighed, curling up against Lord Dio. “Are you going to put me up for ransom?” I asked, beginning to dose off.

Dio laughed heartily, nuzzling the back of my neck affectionately. “Over your dead body.” He said, then proceeded to yawn and falling back asleep.

TYSM FOR READING! Reblog if you enjoyed it!

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#fanfic #writing #dio brando x oc #dio brando x reader #dio brando fanfic #dio brando #jjba dio #jjba x reader #jojo's bizarre adventure x reader

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sofasoap · 1 year ago

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Lastochka AU - Strange battlefield

Pairing : Nikolai x F!Reader ( OC/Mini MacTavish)

Summary: Nikolai is focusing his energy too much on protecting something that is very precious to him. His wife's backside.

AU to my Lastochka series

WARNING: Mature to Explicit Theme. swearing, violence. Crack Fic. I repeat. Crack fic. don’t take it so seriously. Swearing, talk of gore, Smutty smut talks. apologise for any inaccuracies to military and paintball related. never been military nor played paintball before.

A/N : The meaningless crack plot continues.

masterlist

The tension in the air is unbearable.

Your husband (on paper.. And in bed,nothing more! ) your brother, Task Force 141 and Unit one of Chimera and a small group of your workmates shivering in a corner on your right.

Group of cocky professional paintball players, Kortac members and a few little overconfident teenagers to your left.

You can almost smell the bloodbath that is to come.

You swear to heaven, you never meant for this to happen.

You knew you should have kept quiet about it….

“Paintball??”

“Team bonding stuff. My boss wanted us to learn to cooperate better as a team.” you rolled your eyes as you tossed the cubed up cucumber into the salad bowl.

“Sounds like fun.” Gaz commented.

“Well, fun for you boys maybe, I never played paintball before but I saw my friends coming back with bruises and aches after the game!” you huffed as you finished dressing the salad. Picking up the phone as you move around the kitchen island and carrying the salad bowl towards the little dining table. “I don’t want to come back to work with a sore butt and can’t sit down for the rest of the week..”

“Why would your butt be sore? I didn’t smack your ass that hard last night did I?” Nikolai suddenly appeared by your side with a bottle of wine.

You let out a little scream, nearly dropping the phone. “ Nik! Fuck I didn’t even hear you coming in through the door.” you complained. Nikolai just laughed and gave you a kiss on the cheek.

“Uh, I better let you go. I’ll goss with you later on Mini!” Gaz chuckled as he gave Nikolai a wave before ending the video call.

Chucking the phone to the table, you pouted as Nikolai circled his arm around you, pulling you close.

“Stop sneaking around like a ninja Nikolai. You're going to kill me one day with a heart attack!” you chided him. “Set the table. Dinner will be ready in ten.”

Nikolai often comes over for visits since what you labelled “Contract marriage” almost a year ago. Taking you out on dates, spoiling you with gifts, giving you a damn good time in bed.

But what the two of you often do the most is, sharing a quiet meal together in your apartment.

It feels.. Domestic. Like a married couple.

Well, the two of you ARE married.

What scares you the most, part of your heart actually doesn't mind it.

“So what is the deal with your butt.” he asked as he took a sip of the wine.

“Can you let go of my butt please? It has nothing to do with my butt…sort of.” you proceed explaining to him about the team bonding event over dinner.

Nikolai was silent after you finished your spill and complaint. Which you find quite unusual. But you can almost see gears turning above his head. Knowing him and with your sixth sense you know he is up to something.

Your hunch was right when you heard the muffling sound of him talking on the phone while you were in the shower.

“Gather Unit one at the location next Saturday, 1000 hour, on the dot.” You overheard Nikolai growling into the phone. “Why?! Because some ass-shit is going to bruise my Lastochka’s perfect butt!! You think I will let that happen?”

Ok, what the hell is he planning now? You frown as you scrub and wash your hair.

“Good. That is sorted. I shall contact Price about more details.”

He is getting your brother’s team involved too? This isn’t going to end well.

The rest of the conversation was muffled by the sound of the water as you rinsed yourself.

You decide to confront him about it as you sit on the bed, legs crossed and Nikolai carefully brushes all the knots out of your hair.

“So what secret plan are you brewing behind my back my dear husband?” You asked, turning your head slightly, looking up at him.He shrugged his shoulder, fending innocence. “Oh, nothing much, just planning how to best spend next weekend… protecting my assets.” he replied as he gently turned your back to face the front, resuming the brushing.

“And that asset happens to be…?”

“Your lovely ass.”

You are pretty sure he has a serious obsession or fetish around your ass.

“Don’t worry, Lastochka. I know what you are thinking. Everything will be fine. I promise you.” he tries to soothe your doubt, but somehow,with his track record? you just don’t believe his words.

… and you were right when you saw your brother’s team turn up on the day, in full military gear, minus the weapons.

“Mini!” Soap laughed as he stride towards you, lifting you up high, twirling you around before passing you down towards Ghost, Gaz and finally Price for a less dramatic greeting.

“What are you boys doing here?!!” you asked as you smooth down the hair your brother had messed up. You already know why they are here, but you just want to get the answer out of their own mouth.

“To help you, of course.” Soap replied as he hooked his arm around your shoulder.

“I don’t need any help. Besides, this is a company event, we don’t need professionals like you guys to… disrupt the game.” you wrinkled your nose, arguing. “And Captain, why did you agree to this!”

“I owe Nikolai a favour.” Price tilted his head as he took a puff of his cigar,looking resigned. “Besides, it’s a great way to let out some stress and steam without killing anyone.” Price added.

Mmmm. He does have a good point there. Can’t argue with that.

“Ah! There’s my beautiful Lastochka!” Nikolai bellowed as he spotted you between the boys. He carefully gathers you up in his arms, dotting you with kisses.

“Chimera! This is my Ненаглядная here.“ your cheek heated up as he introduced you to his team. “Remember, cover her ass at all costs, that is our aim today. There's a bonus for anyone who is successful in achieving the task!” The whole team cheered at Nikolai’s words. What, now your ass is a commodity for gaining bonuses? You glared at Nikolai, but he doesn’t seem to notice, still smiling proudly as he subtly grabs your ass.

“Ass?” Ghost asked, although you couldn’t see his face, you could almost hear the confusion and frown through the voice.

You buried your face in your hand. “Please, don’t ask.” You are too embarrassed to explain the whole story to him. Oh yes, my ass was the whole point of gathering all you elite soldiers to this child play.

You will never admit that to them.

“Looks like we have unexpected company.” Price ‘s voice dropped as he interrupted the conversation, looking over you and Nikolai’s shoulder at the group of people getting out of their 4wd drive. Everyone turned and frowned while you were confused. Looks like more soldiers have arrived, but why does Nikolai and everyone else seem to be quite hostile towards them?

You spotted a strange man , taller than Simon, marching towards them, full of purpose.

“Colonel.” Price nodded towards the hooded man, keeping his tone neutral.

“Captain, Commander.” The tall man with a hood with a strong Austrian accent greeted both Price and Nikolai curtly.“Fancy to see your teams here.”

“My exact same thought.” Nikolai jeered as he pulled you closer into his embrace, his protective instinct kicks in. “So, what are a bunch of second rated PMC doing here on this fine sunny day? “

“Well, why are a bunch of you criminals and Pommies..”

“I AM SCOTTISH!” Soap yelled out.

“Fine. Criminals, Pommies AND barbarian are doing here.” the hooded man asked as he rolled his eyes.

“Having fun.” Price grunted out, clearly displeased with the insult.

“Well, if you want to make it more fun, let’s have a competition.” The hooded man suggested. He leans closer towards the two commanders. “Let’s go against each other. This should also serve as a settlement between the unresolved… dispute we have on Ishika island.”

“Deal.”

Now this is turning from a team building event into an unofficial settling of an international war dispute session?

Your boss pulled you aside as everyone scattered to gear up.

“I was meaning to ask… who are these people you brought along with you? And who exactly is your husband?” they asked, with fear in their voice.

Soldiers and professional killers? Oh my husband is actually the leader of a PMC and ex-elite agent. OH,don’t worry, he is very nice. Sometimes. Was what you wanted to say, but your boss probably thinks you are an utter nutcase. So instead, you patted their shoulder and reassure them everything will be fine.

Or are you trying to reassure yourself?

Nikolai was banned from following you around.

“You get too distracted, Commander.” Yuri warned, Nikolai opened his mouth to protest, but his second-in-command raised a hand to stop him. “Stay off your wife’s ass. She would be alright. Iskra!” Yuri called out. “ Have Mini by your side. And make sure the Commander doesn’t get too close to her.”

You tried unsuccessfully to stifle a giggle that was escaping your throat. It was refreshing to see Nikolai shrinking and dejected. You couldn’t help but walk up to Nikolai and give him a kiss on the cheek. His eyes brightened up instantly as your gesture comforted him.

Yuri turned around and started barking orders towards your boss and colleagues, assigning a few of the Chimera soldiers to be their guard.

The game was easy enough to understand. Capture the flag from your opponent’s territory and run back towards your own. It was fascinating how different both teams worked. The strategies they used, stealth vs open attack, one vs one, group attack. The amount of command and communications that goes back and forth via the radio comm, you were barely able to catch up with all the military lingos. You really see them taking this whole thing quite seriously.

Iskra turns out to be a pretty good bodyguard and teacher. She instructs you where to hide, the best way to ambush an enemy, you even get a few shots against some of the cocky teenagers and professional soldiers. You are starting to have a bit of fun too.

By the time afternoon tea break came around, both teams were head to head with their score. You can sense the frustration from each side as they all glare at each other as they replenish themselves.

Your luck eventually ran out when you felt your energy and concentration level started to wane in the late afternoon.

Iskra and you were dashing between the obstacles, trying to get closer towards the enemy base as the others were doing their best to create diversions. As you were about to dash behind a boulder, you felt something hitting your butt,making you let out a yelp as you felt the intense pain that followed split seconds later. Iskra turned her head and looked at you, eyes wide. You pushed her towards the fence as you caught a glimpse of the gun raised again, taking aim at her. Both of you dodged in time as you saw the splash of paint landed on the ground.

“Sitrep,little bird.” as if on cue, Nikolai’s voice crackles through the comm.

“I am out for the round. Got hit on the butt.” you reported back as you limped towards the dead area.

Suddenly you heard a collective gasp via the radio.

“.... WHO.” Nikolai growled. You can almost feel his anger emitting through comm.

“Um. I am not sure, but I caught a glimpse of a guy with a hood over his face…” you tried hard to recall as you sat down gingerly on the bench in the dead area, overlooking the whole field.

“Krueger? Did he accidentally shoot you?” Yuri’s voice perked up.

“No, he was in front of me at the time.. Definitely not him.”

Then there’s only one other possibility…

A string of curses in both English and Russian flowed out of Nikolai’s mouth. Oh, this is bad..….

“KÖNIG.” Nikolai snarled. “Those Kortac trash is going to pay for this. For damaging my Lastochka’s delicate butt. CHIMERA! ON MY COMMAND!!”

Everything just descended into chaos afterwards. Rules were practically ignored, flags ignored, both sides just charged at each other, countless rounds of paintballs fired. Screaming, yelping, cursing in every language possible could be heard across the field.

You swear you even heard your brother yelling out “FREEDOM!!! SCOTLAND FOREVER!!” at one point.

You also noticed something as you sat and watched from the sideline, nurse your very sore ass. This is probably going to be the closest thing you will see your brother and friends in action. Showing their impeccable skills as elite soldiers.

And there’s your hus..husband ( you mentally clear your throat as you are still getting used to that word after a year.)

You have to admit there’s something quite alluring about seeing Nikolai in full combat gear. Him in telnyashka, the aviator, the gold chain.

The sudden urge of dragging him into the bush and fuck him is quite strong.

The influence this man has over you is unbelievable. You turn into a very horny bitch every time he smiles at you, bickering and bantering about something insignificant.

What the hell is wrong with you? You shook your head, trying not to think too much. You are here to enjoy the day out with your workmates, friends and family and even with the unexpected group of soldiers, not to have a philosophical reflection about your love life.

By the end of the day, everyone was basically covered with a thick layer of paint and bruises all over.

Strangely enough,everyone’s shoulders were relaxed and smiles across their faces as they walked off the field. Even your colleagues, as scared as they were at the beginning of the day, were cracking a few jokes and mingling around with the soldiers.

Maybe Price was right, maybe this is a good way to get everyone to let out stress without all the actual bloodshed.

Alternative way to achieve world peace? Why can’t every dispute in the world be solved so easily like this? You lamented.

“Lastochka!” Nikolai yelled out as he hurried towards you. He fretted as he helped you to pull off all the protective gears. “Are you ok? Do you need me to take you to a hospital?”

You closed your eyes and sighed before you replied to him. “Nikolai, I was shot in the butt by a paintball. Not some live rounds. I think I should be fine.” you dimisses him.

“I gotta check.” he frowned. Refuse to believe your words.

“What, right here?” you hissed. “Well, if you want to be an exhibitionist.. Is that one of your kinks?” Nikolai raised both of his brows, curious.

“Fuck no! Especially not right in front of my boss and my brother!!” You semi-yelled, attracting a few strange looks from the others. Not wanting to cause a scene, you lower your voice as you drag him towards his car, “Let’s get back to the car, and you can. Um. Inspect, if you are that worried.”

After making sure no one else was looking on, you open the back passenger door, acting as a screen barrier just in case anyone walks by. You hissed as you pulled your pants down slightly, and turned around to try to get a good look at your injury. A huge purple patch is already forming all over your butt cheek, and you know it’s going to hurt even more in the next few days.

“Bend over, let me have a good look too.” Nikolai commanded, as he lightly pushed you into the backseat. Nothing sexual here, you tell yourself. Just him trying to get a good look… until you feel his lip gently kisses your butt. Your breath hitched.

“My poor precious Lastochka.. Look at your beautiful ass..must have hurt a lot when you got hit…” his tone hardens as he recalls the incident. “ someone should be reprimanded for their incompetence in protecting you.. “

“For fucks sake, Nikolai, it’s only a game! My butt isn’t destroyed forever, the bruise should fade away within a week or two. I can just put some creams on.” you chastised him for his unreasonable logic.

“What cream? Cream that I produce naturally?” You can hear the smirk in his tone.

“Some PHARMACEUTICAL cream Thank you very much.” You replied with an inexpressive tone as you were ready to get up and pull your pants back up, but you felt his hand pressing you down again, slightly with more force.

“Come on, We are going to be late to the pub dinner…” you stopped mid sentence as you felt him kissing your butt again as he slid a finger between your legs. You stifled another moan as he lowered himself a bit further, his mouth joining his fingers.

“Don’t care. Let me have a good taste of you.” he purred. “Besides, there are studies of production of oxytocin that can help with lessening the pain and healing…”

Oh now we are talking about science during sex? How arousing.

“Well, stop talking about scientific studies, and get on with the experiment then, Commander.” you hummed, resigned. You know once he starts, he isn’t going to stop.

He did in fact incite a lot of oxytocin out of you, and apply some “natural” cream inside you, as you grip tight onto his shoulder, slowly riding him in the backseat of the car, him gently cupping your injured butt cheek as he try to distract you from the pain, sucking and biting lightly on your nipple.

Two of you did end up getting to the pub a bit later than scheduled, causing a few raised eyebrows and teasing. But you got to live out that little fantasy of riding Nikolai in his gear, that is all it matters. Right?

“Sorry about your injury Mini.” König apologised as the group of you stood outside the pub at the end of night.

Nikolai let out a growl, but you just gave him an elbow in the stomach, keeping him quiet. “Be civil.” you turned back towards König with a smile plastered on your face. “Ah, no harm done. The bruises will heal. And thanks for your grandma’s apple strudel recipe!” you waved to him as he left with the rest of the team.

“You two exchanged recipes?” Nikolai frowned, a hint of concern in and jealousy sipped through this voice.

Nodding your head excitedly, you showed some pictures on the phone. “Turns out he is really good at baking, he even suggested joining the baking forum he is in that shares a lot of traditional recipes from around the world. I’m so excited to try it out!”

He let out a snort through his nose, mumbling something underneath this breath, pouting like a toddler who had his toys taken away from him. Is that jealousy that you are sensing? Can’t be. You thought to yourself.

He was pretty quiet in the car on the way home, one hand grasping yours, not letting it go.

A strange tension stewing between the two of you, neither wanting to break the silence.

“I’ll see you in a few weeks time, precious little bird.” He murmured into your ear after walking you to the door of your apartment.

Turning around to face him, your eyes widened, “You not staying tonight?” you whispered. Unconsciously leaning into him and grabbing onto his shirt.

“I’m sorry little bird… We have to fly out early tomorrow morning for a few.. businesses. I’ll see you when we get back.” he apologises, eyes softened as he caresses your hair. You know what he does for a living, but you have noticed he never really likes to mention anything or even use any words related to what he does in front of you. Almost if he is scared of tainting you with the dirty words.

So you were actually quite surprised that he dragged one of his units out today for a little civilian war game, just for you.

What is this feeling? Little butterflies that you haven’t felt for quite a long time…

“I feel bad… your team had to come out when you have work to attend to tomorrow..” you apologised, feeling very guilt ridden all of sudden. He patted your back and kissed your head.

“They didn’t mind. I would be sending out another unit anyway so they will get plenty of rest.” he reassures you. “Now go in. get some rest. I will see you soon.”

Giving you one last soft kiss on the lip before parting, he turned and left the apartment.

You stood by your front door, watching him leave, until he disappeared around the corner towards the bottom of the stairs. Why is your heart aching so much if you claim you don’t love him? Everytime you see him off. There’s that panic and fear that you will never see him again. Kill on the battlefield.

It’s a rabbit hole you wish you hadn't jumped into.

But it’s too late.

@homicidal-slvt

@nrdmssgs @siilvan @roosterr @preciouslittlecreature @bravosierra6 @gamergirlbones @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot @whydoilikewhump @alypink @ashwasherelol @okayyadriana @liyanahelena @miyabilicious @caramlizedtomatoes @deadbranch @celshideout @merkitty49 @abbeyrjm-blog

#cod nikolai #nikolai cod #nikolai cod x reader #nikolai cod x f!reader #taskforce 141 #nikolai reboot call of duty #call of duty #nikolai cod x female reader #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty mw 2022 #mini mactavish #mini mactavish universe #sofasoap writes #crack fic #dont take it so seriously

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