#hello!! we have… still not gotten back to playing yet! but we were helping out w/ a friend’s party tonight ^u^
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#hello!! we have… still not gotten back to playing yet! but we were helping out w/ a friend’s party tonight ^u^#i dressed up as pc-98 era yuuka kazami :D#hopefully getting back into the game soon 🫡#ffxiv#ffxiv oc#ffxiv gpose#tigposting
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oh nooo another Sevika prompt!
Sevika and Reader are hanging out at The Last Drop and Sevika cannoooooot keep her hands to herself. She takes every opportunity to grab Reader's ass and hugs her close when Reader sits on her lap during card games. She is being VERY handsy until Reader whispers "uhm hello? is something wrong? can I help you? do you want something?"
And Sevika is like [:
Which, in Sevika, only means "I'll behave if I can fuck you in the closet/bathroom/my office"
please the [: emoji made me scream because i immediately pictured this smirk of hers:
men and minors dni
ran's been a friend of yours since you were a kid, and now that they're working with silco they're sevika's favorite goon. the three of you go out for drinks together sometimes, just to laugh and gossip and relax for a bit.
tonight's one of those nights. you and sevika have been hanging out at the last drop for a while now, helping theriam flip chairs and prepare for opening, waiting for ran to get back from whatever adventure silco's sent them on today.
sevika's always a little more handsy than she probably should be in public, but tonight she's on a whole other level.
while you were helping theriam polish glasses-- sevika's arms slung around your waist and her chin hooked over your shoulder-- each time the bartender would turn away, she'd take the opportunity to start grinding against your ass, moaning in your ear.
as the two of you played a round of double solitare, sevika's boot snuck up your leg and started pressing against your cunt.
you went to the bathroom and sevika trailed after you, trying to push into the stall with you, a predatory glint in her eye and a giant pout on her lips when you told her to scram.
"fu-- what has gotten into you tonight!?" you squeak as sevika starts nibbling on your earlobe. you're on her lap now, thinking that maybe letting her hold you will help her control herself. you were clearly wrong. you're lucky nobody's at the bar yet. while you're used to her smacking your ass and making out with you in public, this is a lot. especially with her hand cupping your cunt.
sevika giggles mischievously and you smile at the sound. "maybe you, if i'm lucky." she mumbles against your throat. you snort.
"ran's gonna be here any sec-- se-vika!" you squawk as she sneaks a hand up your shirt and starts groping your tits.
"ran can wait a few minutes if they show up 'n we're busy. we've been waitin' hours for them."
with her lips on your throat and her hands pinching your nipples, sevika's making an awful lot of sense right now. still, though.
"s-sev. just wait til we get home baby-- we can lay out in the bed and take our time."
"mmm... yeah... or i could take you up to my office and bend you over my desk real quick. make you cum three or four times, get you back down here within twenty minutes."
you cackle, turning around in her arms to face her. sevika's wearing the cutest little smirk in the world, and well... you can't say no to her now. "you are fucking ridiculous." you say. sevika's smile only grows. "and you've got a lot of ambition with those numbers."
"that's not a no." sevika points out.
you just roll your eyes and lean forward, smooching her nose. "you've got ten minutes." you say.
sevika scrambles out of the booth so fast she topples the table, carrying you in a bridal hold, not letting you down no matter how much you squirm and scream. "sorry T, i'll fix the table in a sec!" she calls over her shoulder as she sprints up the stairs.
you have to muffle your cackle against her throat.
sevika bursts through her office door, her frantic energy disappearing for a moment as she gently sets you down on her desk, kissing you sweetly and carefully clearing her desk of anything that'll poke you. then, the excited, giddy look in her eye returns, she gives you a sloppy kiss, and runs to slam the door.
you just giggle, quickly stripping out of your clothes, watching sevika fling her own clothes around her office as she stumbles back toward her desk.
when she's back between your legs, you pull her in for a kiss. she sighs against your lips and you groan, sinking your fingers in her hair, making her shiver.
neither of you are naked yet, but that doesn't stop sevika's hips from grinding against your cunt. you twine your legs around her, whimpering in her mouth.
"fuck, i've been thinkin' about you all day." sevika mutters.
you giggle a bit. "i can tell."
"i could cum from fuckin' you just like this." she grunts. each time she pulls back, you can see a wet spot from your soaked underwear growing on her light blue boxers. it makes you crazy.
"m-me too." you admit. sevika grins and shoves your shirt and bra up under your armpits, pinning you to her desk and diving forward to start sucking on your tits.
you tangle one of your hands in her hair, the other sneaking under her unbuttoned shirt to scratch down her back. sevika groans loud and long when you do, and her movements against you get sporadic and sloppy.
"janna, i love you." she sighs. "i can't-- i just-- you're all i think about. obsessed with you."
"i know baby." you say, kissing sevika's head. "fuck you feel so good. you're so fuckin' cute, sev."
"a-are you close?" she whimpers. you giggle.
"are you?"
"fuck-- yes-- but i wanna make you cum first." she whines. you laugh, but when sevika shoots back up from your tits to shove her tongue down your throat, all you can do is moan and fall apart underneath her.
you shiver as you cum, and sevika hums against your lips, satisfied. you pull away with a gasp, and then give her hair a harsh tug, and sevika lets out a sweet whimper as cums. "y-you fucking soaked me, baby." she moans, awed.
her words make you groan. sevika ducks down to kiss you again, one of her hands shakily patting around her desk for something.
she manages to find the clock, pulling it up to her face and giggling before showing it to you. "we still got four minutes." she says. you cackle.
"yeah, four minutes for my legs to stop shaking before i have to walk back down those stairs."
"don't be stupid, i'll carry you."
you just burst into laughter, and pull sevika down for another kiss.
taglist!
@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner
@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther
@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai
@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette
@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp
@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen
@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke
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Kiss on the check accepted! :3c
And your response reminded me of a detail I always pick up on rewatches but hadn't fully untangled yet—in the flashback of her childhood, Mel steps into that broken throne room with blood still drying on it. At Ambessa's prompting, Mel goes right into talking about how to renovate the place. "Paint the walls gold"...like gilding over the horrors of conquest that got that power in the first place.
And when she describes the regent they should have, she finishes with, "she should be pliant, so we can mold her." That IS what she was doing with Jayce, slowly, over a decade, and then quickly through Acts 2 and 3.
And then in the scene, after Mel finishes describing a "pliant" regent who can be molded, her mother suggests MEL could be that regent. Young Mel is excited at the idea, entirely missing the implication that she too would be an asset of her mother's reign.
That's why she takes off her Medarda ring right before casting her vote for Zaun's independence. She's finally realized she's just as subject to her mother's games as anyone else and Chooses to stop working in the interests of her family's power.
And augh, I wish her s2 plotline hadn't taken her out of Piltover so we could have seen more of the spycraft against Ambessa she was up to in Arc 1. I can't help but think of how much stronger her confrontation with Ambessa would have been if we had a full season of "daughter works against mother" instead of just a few scenes and a lot of getting kidnapped. More ambiguity with Leblanc would've been great too instead of her killing Elora to say hello.
[continued from here]
EXACTLY the way they shafted the politics in s2 (specifically so they wouldn't need to have hard conversations) genuinely had a negative impact in the ENTIRE story. The systematic horrors were downplayed and plotlines were dropped with very short acknowledgements - this is why we get people complaining about the jayce/mel breakup scene "coming out of nowhere" despite the fact that it made perfect sense for these characters!!!!!! It was just too short and they changed the subject too quickly, so we don't have TIME to think about the economic issues again.
It's so clear to me that jayce, viktor, ekko, mel (each representing a diff political facet. curious!) etc were carefully removed from the actual real world so we never have to analyze or push back against the notion that cait/ambessa are doing a hostile military coup and HAVE gotten people killed, imprisoned, and tortured en masse. So they can neatly resolve all of the plot with an avengers-style montage and never talk about the stuff with real world implications. There is no war in piltover and zaun. Just a cartoony last second villain. We just need to unite to protect... piltover...? And now viktor is randomly forgetting his proud zaunite commie stance and teaming up with the imperial invaders that were plaguing the earth moments ago........? We never talk about the class inequality ever again? Forget everything. Nothing ever matters.
The end result was that we spent far less time with these characters and they ended up being pretty underdeveloped. I know this happened for marketing reasons, its so incredibly clear aspects of the story were dumbed down so they could sell more ingame skins or pitch new champions, and that was seen as more valuable and desirable for the company than politicking - because at heart riot don't care about the political stuff anyway. But it still makes me throw my hands up in the air. such an asspull
In a reality where we had enough time and investment to touch on this, Mel could have actually gotten to push back against ambessa/cait and directly deal with the consequences of her actions. SEVIKA could have gotten a proper payoff for her underground character arc, instead of vanishing halfway through and then randomly accepting a diversity hire seat on the council (insanity. that was insanity) Ekko and the firelights would have obviously played a key role in rallying people against ambessa and helping Jinx recover from her displacement crisis (sorry isha, but even you could have been better used as part of the firelights dilemma) Jayce's mounting disillusionment with piltover and his loyalty to Viktor would be much better explored if they were still in conversation about the cities, the world they wanted to help, and the chaotic blurry lines of personhood/citizenship that decide who is an 'acceptable' target under the fist of the state. Vi could have built a self-reliant identity for herself, something better to fight for that isnt 'being a cop'. This show could've been awesome. I wish it existed
#arcane#meta tag#mel medarda#ambessa medarda#jayce talis#viktor arcane#ekko arcane#jinx arcane#sevika arcane#vi arcane#caitlyn kiramman#jayvik#hexposts#league of legends#jayce league of legends#jayce lol
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Hi can you do another dad!Harry x reader where Niall meets atlas and he and Harry teach him how to play football and Harry Niall playfully argue about what team atlas will root for. And Niall also wants to teach him how to play the guitar.
𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐄’𝟐𝟐 ࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖𐦍˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔
⋆˚✿˖° 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛
summary: check the request u silly goose ^
also hello anon, thank u for the request <3 sorry it took so long! hopefully it’s smthn u liked :)
cw: dadrry 🤨, unedited
word count: approx 2.3k
| i’m trying to go in order with the requests ive gotten. a lot have been dadrry which i LOVVE however im gonna take the smallest breather from it because i’ve been wanting to get a few other things out that isn’t dadrry/kid related which i hope yall will still like :^)
masterlist
harry bent over and plucked a dandelion from the ground, its yellow petals nearly glowing in the gentle light. “here,” he murmured, tucking it behind atlas’s ear, nestled into dark curls that mirrored his own.
his boy squinted up at him, dimple deepening as he tilted his head, casting that same unguarded, easy smile. harry’s own grin met it, his eyes crinkling, his nose scrunching up just so. “sunny flower for my sunshine,” he said, voice a low, soft thing.
the world outside was painted in a wash of soft honeyed glow, every blade of grass dipped in a warm, dewy shimmer. somewhere overhead, the clouds stretched in lazy tufts, the kind that would drift by in no hurry, letting the sky peek through in swathes of baby blue.
they were tucked beneath the willow tree at the back of the yard, both of them shirtless, shoeless, and dusted with dirt. atlas sat cross-legged, his chubby fingers digging into the cool soil with the focus only a four-year-old could muster. he was on a mission, hunting for the little grey bugs he loved, the ones that rolled into perfect balls with the gentlest nudge.
“look, bub,” harry whispered, flipping over his hand to reveal one of the bugs crawling along his dirt-streaked palm. atlas’s face lit up, eyes wide and delighted. he gently took the bug, murmuring, “hello, potato,” as if the creature was an old friend. carefully, he coaxed it onto his own hand, watching it sprawl out its tiny legs, finally uncurling. “there y’are,” he said with a satisfied little sigh, his finger brushing gently over its shell before he let it crawl back into the soil.
harry watched him, struck by the quiet tenderness in his son’s movements, his heart swelling with a mixture of pride and awe. atlas’s world was so simple, and yet somehow so vast, filled with magic in places adults so often overlooked.
his son’s head whipped around suddenly, catching sight of a patch of tiny purple flowers hiding near his dad’s knee. he scrambled over, tugging a few loose with careful fingers, his face lighting up like he’d found treasure. harry chuckled, watching his son’s single-minded determination as he came closer, leaning down to face his dad.
“shh,” he whispered, pressing a finger to his lips with the gravest expression he could muster. then, with a careful hand, he began tucking the little flowers into harry’s curls, his small brows furrowed in focus. one by one, purple petals nestled into the messy locks until he was satisfied. “now we match, daddy,” he said, the faintest look of triumph on his face.
harry couldn’t help the way his heart tugged, warmth spreading in his chest. “mama needs one, too,” atlas murmured, glancing around with a serious look.
“does she now?” he stood, brushing dirt from his knees, lifting atlas onto his hip with a grunt. his feet made soft imprints in the grass as they moved toward his wife, who lay stretched out on a towel near the front yard, soaking up the late afternoon sun. her eyes opened as they approached, a gentle smile tugging at her lips.
“what kind of flower, do y’think?” harry mumbled, nudging atlas’s cheek with his nose.
atlas thought for a long moment, glancing between his parents. “m’the prettiest one.”
“now that’s a hard call, mate,” he chuckled. “your mum’s too pretty for just one flower, really. her beauty would outshine it.”
atlas didn’t quite understand, but he knew his dad was talking about how lovely his mama was, so he nodded, satisfied.
just then, the clink of a metal latch echoed from the house. niall appeared, hands on his hips, a football tucked under one arm, grinning as he made his way down the steps toward them. “ready for a bit o’ footie, then?” he called, his voice bright with that familiar lilting accent.
atlas perked up immediately, wriggling in harry’s hold. harry set him down, watching as he bolted across the lawn, little legs pumping as he met niall halfway.
“now, before we get started, little man,” niall began, crouching down to atlas’s level, “we need to sort somethin’ important.”
harry groaned, wandering over with a lazy grin. “oh, here we go. already brainwashing him, are ya?”
niall chuckled, tousling atlas’s hair. “only tryin’ to steer him right, yeah? see, atlas, your dad here likes the red team, manchester united.” he said it in a tone like he was explaining a tragic flaw. “but me? i’m derby county through and through. we’re the true underdogs.” he tapped atlas’s nose for emphasis.
atlas tilted his head, clearly confused. he looked up at his dad, brow furrowed. “the red team, daddy?”
harry laughed, ruffling atlas’s curls. “that’s right, mate. we’re united fans, us. always cheer for the red team.”
niall clutched his chest in mock horror. “ah, but atlas, don’t you want to support a real team, one with heart?”
atlas just blinked between them, completely lost but amused by their playful bickering. he didn’t quite get why it mattered, but he knew his dad loved the red team, so that’s what he’d cheer for, every time.
“alright, enough of that,” niall said with a wink, rolling the football out in front of him. “time for a proper match. let’s see what you’ve got, little man.”
“think y’can win, attie?” harry asked, grinning wide as he kicked the ball softly toward atlas, who stumbled back a step as the ball nudged his bare foot.
atlas giggled, a bubbling, bright sound that made both men laugh. he glanced down at the ball, brows furrowing like he was trying to solve a puzzle, then he looked up with a determined expression. “i can beat you,” he declared, puffing out his chest with all the seriousness a four-year-old could muster.
“oh, he’s got a bit of fire in him!” niall laughed, straightening up and adjusting the dandelion in the boy’s hair. “good lad. that’s what i like to see.”
harry crouched down to meet atlas’s eye level, his smile softening. “alright, bubba. let’s start with the basics, yeah?” he placed a hand gently on atlas’s shoulder, guiding him toward the ball. “all you’ve got to do is kick it nice and easy, right to uncle niall.”
atlas gave a determined nod, his little face scrunched in concentration. he took a step back, wriggled his toes in the grass, then swung his leg forward with a small grunt. the ball wobbled and rolled just a few feet, but it was enough to get a cheer from both men.
“that’s it!” niall called, clapping his hands together as he jogged forward to stop the ball with the inside of his foot. “perfect! now let’s try somethin’ a bit trickier, yeah?” he gave the ball a gentle nudge back toward atlas. “this time, try keepin’ it goin’. we’ll pass it back and forth.”
harry stayed beside him, his hand resting lightly on his son’s shoulder, offering small tips here and there as the ball rolled between them. atlas’s kicks were unsteady, more little taps than proper strikes, but each time he got the ball to move, his face lit up like he’d just scored a winning goal.
after a few minutes, harry stepped back, letting atlas and niall keep the rhythm on their own. he folded his arms, watching them play, the gentle back-and-forth, the easy flow of laughter. niall, ever patient, exaggerated his reactions to every kick, even the weak ones, stumbling back dramatically as if atlas had knocked him off balance. it sent atlas into fits of giggles, his small frame shaking with the force of it.
“look at that!” niall called, holding his arms wide in mock surrender after a particularly strong kick from atlas. “we’ve got ourselves a future champion here! sign ‘im up for derby now, i say!”
“oi, back off,” harry said, joining them again with a wide grin. he scooped atlas up, making the little boy squeal as he swung him around in a wide arc before setting him back down. “he’s stickin’ with united. right, attie?”
atlas just beamed up at them, not understanding but pleased to be the center of attention. “yeah!” he agreed, without really knowing what he was agreeing to. “the red team!”
“traitor,” niall muttered, though his eyes were bright with laughter.
“nah, he’s just smart,” harry teased, tapping the ball with his bare foot and sending it toward niall, who caught it with an easy stop. they moved seamlessly into a light game, the ball pinging between the three of them, atlas racing after every pass with a fierce determination.
niall leaned down, conspiratorially. “tell ya what, atlas,” he said, his tone lowering as if he were revealing a great secret. “if you can get the ball past your dad just once, i’ll let you wear my derby county jersey.”
harry raised a brow, feigning indignation. “oh, no you don’t. we’re not corrupting him with your bad taste in football, mate.”
but the boy’s eyes widened with the challenge, his cheeks pink and his grin growing mischievous. he turned, the tiniest flicker of determination lighting up his eyes as he faced his dad, who crouched down slightly, hands out in front like a goalie.
“you think you can get past me, bub?” harry said, a playful glint in his eyes.
atlas didn’t answer. instead, he lunged forward, feet slipping in the damp grass as he pushed the ball with both tiny feet, charging straight at his dad. harry bit back a laugh, shuffling to the left and blocking the ball gently with his foot. atlas let out a tiny growl of frustration, spinning around and kicking again, his effort all concentration and floppy limbs.
niall ran amuck from the sidelines, letting out hushed yells to mimic that of a roaring crowd. “go on, atlas! you’ve got ‘em! he’s not that quick, trust me!”
harry shot niall a mock glare but couldn’t help the laughter bubbling up as atlas kept trying, little determined sounds huffing from him with every move. finally, with a wide grin, harry let himself stumble just a little too dramatically, the ball slipping past him as atlas charged forward.
“he’s done it!” niall whooped, jumping in the air and throwing his arms wide as if they’d just won the league. “you got him, attie! you scored!”
he froze for a second, blinking in surprise at the empty space in front of him where his dad had been. then he let out a triumphant yell, arms shooting up in the air. “i did it! i did it!”
harry caught him up in his arms, twirling him around until atlas’s laughter rang out, loud and joyful. “you did, mate,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of his son’s head. “you got me.”
niall jogged over, slinging an arm around harry’s shoulders and holding his other hand out for a high-five, which atlas delivered with a delighted smack. “a promise is a promise,” niall said, grinning wide. “you’ll be gettin’ that derby jersey from me. though, your dad might never forgive me for it.”
“we’ll talk about that later,” harry said, giving niall a playful shove. then he turned back to atlas, setting him down and ruffling his hair again. “but for now, let’s see if you can do it again. think you’ve got another goal in you?”
atlas’s eyes gleamed with excitement as he nodded, puffing out his chest. “i can do it! m’the best player ever!”
“that’s the spirit,” niall said, positioning himself across from them and rolling the ball back to atlas. “ready when you are, champ.”
the afternoon stretched on, niall disappearing inside for a bit before reappearing at the back door, this time not with a ball, but with his battered acoustic guitar slung over one shoulder. the old wood caught the golden light just right, warm honey glinting off the curves. “thought we’d change things up a bit,” he called out, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. he settled onto the cool grass under the shade of the willow tree, cradling the guitar in his lap.
“oh, you’re quittin’ already?” harry teased, giving the football a gentle tap with his toe toward yn, who was standing barefoot a few steps away, her hair a soft tangle in the breeze. atlas stood between them, his little legs bouncing as he tried to mimic the back-and-forth passes between his parents.
“nah,” niall replied, the strings thrumming under his fingers as he absentmindedly strummed a chord, “just thought atlas could use a break from whoopin’ your arse.”
the little one giggled, spinning around in circles as harry pretended to stumble back dramatically. yn gave the ball a light kick back to her husband, the sunlight catching the bright colors of her sundress, and harry caught it with a playful flourish. the three of them formed a small, easy triangle in the yard, the ball moving lazily between them as niall started picking out a familiar melody.
“come here, little rockstar,” niall said, patting his knee and looking over at atlas with a soft smile. “fancy learnin’ a tune?” atlas hesitated, glancing up at his dad, who gave him an encouraging nod.
“go on, attie,” harry urged, scooping the ball into his hands to pause the game. “uncle niall’s got a song for ya.”
atlas’s eyes widened, curiosity shining bright as he trotted over, plopping himself down in niall’s lap with a trusting little wiggle. the guitar was far too big for him, the wooden body swallowing his small frame as niall adjusted the position, balancing the neck across atlas’s knees.
“alright, kiddo,” niall said, his voice low and patient as he wrapped atlas’s small hands around the neck of the guitar, guiding his tiny fingers to press down on the strings. “these are called chords, yeah? they make the music. we’re gonna try somethin’ special.”
yn and harry settled down in the grass just in front of them, harry’s arm slipping around her waist as they leaned back on their elbows, watching the scene unfold with soft smiles. atlas’s little fingers fumbled against the strings, pressing too hard and too light in the same awkward movements, but niall was endlessly patient, his hands covering the boy’s, guiding him with an easy confidence.
“this one’s called a ‘g chord,’” niall explained, carefully placing atlas’s index finger on the right fret, his own fingers moving over atlas’s to show him the way. “we’re gonna play a bit of my song, yeah?”
atlas nodded solemnly, like he understood, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in deep concentration. he strummed the strings with a jerky motion, producing a sound that was more discordant twang than melody. niall chuckled softly, adjusting atlas’s grip with a patient hand. “easy there, mate. it’s all about bein’ gentle, like you were with those potato bugs earlier.”
“like this?” he asked, his face scrunched in determined focus as he tried again, fingers splayed awkwardly over the frets. he plucked at the strings with all the finesse of a four-year-old, the sound shaky and uneven, but undeniably proud.
“that’s it!” niall encouraged, his voice warm and easy. “you’re doin’ perfect, bud. let’s try a bit more, yeah?” he hummed the opening bars of the song under his breath, guiding atlas through each shaky strum, the boy’s small fingers following his lead with a mixture of curiosity and pure, bright determination.
harry’s hand squeezed yn’s gently, his gaze soft as he watched his son try so earnestly. “he’s really into it, isn’t he?” yn murmured, resting her head on harry’s shoulder.
“yeah,” harry replied, his voice low, almost reverent. “reminds me of myself.”
atlas’s fingers slipped off the strings, causing a strange, discordant twang, but niall just laughed and nudged him gently. “no worries, champ. it takes a while to get it right. even i messed up plenty when i was young—ask your dad, he’ll tell ya.”
“he’s tellin’ the truth,” harry interjected with a grin, leaning back on one hand while still holding yn close. “used to be a nightmare. couldn’t get through a song without stoppin’ every few seconds.”
niall pretended to look wounded, pressing a hand dramatically to his heart. “oi, easy, now! this is a teachin’ moment, not a roast!” atlas giggled at the banter, his chubby hands clinging tighter to the guitar.
“let’s try again,”he suggested softly, tapping atlas’s little hand in encouragement. “i’ll help you with the chords, and you just strum when i say, alright?”
the curly haired boy nodded, his eyes wide and focused, and together they moved slowly, atlas’s fingers guided with care over the strings as niall led him through the simplest, gentlest notes of his song. it was more noise than song, a jumbled mix of too-loud and too-soft strums, but there was a rhythm to it, a quiet kind of magic in the way atlas’s brow furrowed with every sound he managed to coax from the instrument.
they played like that for a while, atlas’s small body wrapped in the circle of niall’s arms, the guitar humming under their hands, filling the late afternoon air with its uneven melody. the sun dipped lower, casting long, soft shadows across the grass, the golden light wrapping them all in its warm, fading glow.
when they finally finished, atlas let out a triumphant sigh, dropping his hands from the strings and leaning back into niall’s chest. “i did it,” he said with a breathless sort of wonder.
“that you did, little man,” niall replied, resting his chin lightly on top of atlas’s head, the smile in his voice clear as day. “you played your first song.”
harry clapped softly, his eyes shining with something tender as yn leaned against him, her arm around his waist. “we’ve got ourselves a musician,” he said quietly, his voice caught somewhere between pride and awe.
atlas beamed, his cheeks pink from the effort, his eyes bright with a happiness so pure and unfiltered that it tugged at everyone’s heart. “i wanna play another one,” he declared, turning to look up at niall with wide, eager eyes.
niall laughed, ruffling atlas’s messy curls. “we’ll make a rockstar outta you yet, mate. but maybe we’ll leave the heavy stuff for another day, yeah? for now, you did brilliant.”
they all sat there for a moment longer, the last traces of sunlight casting everything in a honeyed glow, the guitar cradled in atlas’s lap, his small hands still resting on the strings as if he wasn’t quite ready to let go. the world felt quieter somehow, the soft hum of the summer evening settling around them, and for a brief, perfect moment, everything was exactly as it should be.
#harry styles#harry styles blurb#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles imagine#harry styles one shot#harry styles writing#harry styles x reader#harry styles concept#harry styles dad#dadrry
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Hello again! I noticed that the request might were open if not sorry for asking this!
But can we get a reader x dogday where reader is a new worker that was assigned to help the smilling critters look after the kids at playcare and when reader's eyes first land on dogday their first instinct is panic and fear, trying their best to avoid him
And dogday being the sweet boy he is, tries his best to interact with reader, trying to comfort and reassure them while also to befriend them
Note || short but sweet… also kinda confusing so apologies. •v•
WC || 813
You were new, hired to help the Smiling Critters attend to the children at the orphanage. There are all sorts of sights you were used to, just some still had easily frightened you even as you had gotten older. Your family members had teased you for your fears before, harmless at most, but it stuck with you.
When you had first laid eyes on the Smiling Critters themselves, they were large, gigantic creatures. You weren’t exactly told of this exact circumstance, but you had seen how relaxed in their presence.
One person in particular had remained to stick out to you, suddenly you were shy. He was large like many others in size, only a foot taller (seems to be a recurring theme between the males and females). You weren’t prepared to be faced with the leader of the Smiling Critters, you didn’t want to cross paths with him. You were far too avid to interact with any of the members, let out the one with such a sunny demeanor.
You shied away from the yellow-orange dog, full of comfort and warmth but his presence just scared you the most. You didn’t like him, or anything you could make out of him.
Even if he was entertaining the children, he had noticed how quickly you went away from his vicinity. Which caused him to get concerned for you, normally people would get surprised but they’d get used to him pretty fast.
Simply you had shuffled further away from him, not wanting to be buzzed with incessant fear and anxiety that the leader was giving you.
“Uh–”’ If he could raise a brow, that would be right now. DogDay tilted his head, then sighed. DogDay had ushered the group of children to continue playing by themselves, he noticed you coming into work earlier. But why would you get scared of him? Everytime he tried to get closer to you, you just sort of ran away. DogDay was a little confused as to why you wouldn’t want to interact with him, every human employee he came across had talked to him at some point or another.
This shouldn’t be any different.
Well, he wasn’t going to rush into it with you. DogDay wanted you to get comfortable being around him on your own terms, but he was albeit a little impatient. Not exactly one of his best qualities he’ll admit, but he just wanted to be friends.
“Uh, hey friend!” You flinch at the sunny tone coming up from behind, you walk back a few inches to realize it was DogDay. He raised his hands to assure you he wasn’t trying to harm you, or even have the motive to do so. “Angel, why are you so afraid of me?” his tone sounded so sad.
Your shoulders deflated, crouching down as your hands laid to rest against your knees. Body shaking with an anxiety that it shouldn't be something about him had unsettled you somehow, you just didn’t want to talk. DogDay’s face seemed to express one of hurt, hurt to see you shrunk away from him. He sat down on the ground, staying right where he had stood previously. He wanted to truly befriend you, yet it looked as if you remained a shaking ball of fear.
“It’s okay, you're okay here.” He nodded slightly, his large hands laid against the floor as if he was waiting for your own hands. “No need to be scared of me.”
A few moments had passed, a long pause fulfilling to be an air of awkwardness for just DogDay in particular. You slowly slunk over to his side, standing up and walking closer to him. The sunny dog was a little giddy; he had managed to convince you he was harmless, but he had remained calm as he didn’t want to scare you away.
DogDay had waited until you finally sat down in front of him, “See?” You heard a thumping sound coming from behind DogDay, you raised a brow. You looked behind DogDay to see it was actually his tail wagging, he was happy.
He was happy?
You look back at DogDay, the ball of anxiety that had been bubbling in your gut had dissipated. Feeling no reason to panic or whatsoever, you were just being silly. You nod and smile at him, taking his large paw and inspecting it. DogDay stilled, seeing what you were doing, he was even more elated.
Everyone doesn’t just come and go without a little bit of love, especially if that love was fluffy. You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning in to hug him.
All that darkness goes away eventually.
DogDay was no more less than happy to befriend you, or maybe something close, as this had confirmed you were more comfortable to be around him now. He didn’t want to push it, returning the hug with a gentle hand.
#poppy playtime#dogday poppy playtime#poppy playtime x reader#poppy playtime chapter 3#x reader#dogday x reader#poppy playtime dogday#dogday
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PLAYING FAVORITES
Pairing: Dandy x reader
Relationship: romantic
Warning: no warnings surprising, are you guys shocked
Type: headcanons + drabble
It's no secret that he picks favorites
"Dandy, I appreciate the sentiment but..." you stare at the medkit in your hands, a confused look on your face as you attempt to understand just why he had given it to you. You definitely didn't need it, and you certainly had all your hearts intact. The only wound you had received during the last floor you had ventured into was a tiny scratch you had made yourself. Which had been a complete accident when you found yourself tripping over a capsule and onto the floor. "I don't need this..."
"Nonsense! Take it, free of charge! We don't want our greatest friend dying any time soon, do we?" He winked, nudging the first aid further into you. It seemed like he wasn't taking no for an answer.
"Hey, uh- I need one too." Oh god, Vee looked terrible. Normally, only one of her antennas would be bent. But, this time, it had looked like a twisted had tried to forcefully rip the other one off her head. And when that didn't work, decided to scrunch it up and tug at it until sparks came flying out of its base. The left side of her screen had been cracked, a long line running down from top to bottom with tiny strands breaking off near the edge. Just one look at her and it was almost obvious that she had lost a heart, and probably would've lost the last one had she not gotten into the elevator on time.
Dandy took one look at her, his smile never wavering as he spoke. Although, if you looked close enough, you could see the strain behind it. "Two hundred tapes."
Safe to say the others would catch onto this little trend after a while
He pretended he wasn't biased when it came to you
Acting dumb like there was no difference in the way he treated you, compared to how he treated everyone else
Sure, he would smile and wave, act nice just to keep the tapes rolling in
He was still their friend, he couldn't just be mean
But, he couldn't doubt how special you were compared to them
Day one he was practically at your beck and call, even before everything had turned to ruin
He knew things were different now, he knew you probably wouldn't let him do all the things he used to back when you didn't have to worry about the possibility of having some corrupted version of your friends tear you to pieces
But, he could still dream, couldn't he?
He couldn't help but indulge in fantasies every now and then
Letting his head rest in his hands as he watched you interact with the others
Sure, he would've preferred if your attention was on him
But, he could pretend he didn't mind sharing
Although, sometimes he wasn't so good at it
He'd miss the days when you'd let him just lay beside you
His head on your stomach as he'd pick at the floor beneath you both, mindlessly staring up at you in an almost dazed like look
The others used to tease him about it
About how well known his feelings for you were, and yet he never wanted to admit it
After all, what would happen if he did?
There were risks he had to consider when it came to telling you how he felt
And he never liked any of them
He almost preferred keeping them a secret, letting them fester inside until they were practically pouring out of every crevice in a desperate attempt to keep himself sane
Maybe you were the reason he hadn't gone crazy yet
But, if you kept your attention straying from him for a bit too long, there's a good chance he might just lose it
Make sure to talk to him every round
Say hello, tell him about the twisteds you encountered, share how you made a mistake when extracting ichor from a machine and almost run into a wall while trying to hide
Anything. Just anything.
He needs it.
#I'm so sleepy right now and it's only 5 pm where I am#(almost 6 pm)#man I had such a cool title for this but it was too dark for the more fluffy theme of this post#maybe i'll use it next time#I'm not good at titles if you can't tell#dandys world#dandy's world#dandy dw#dandy dandys world#dandy's world x reader#dandy dw x reader#x reader#dandy x reader#dandy dandy's world#I'd grammarly this but im too tired#I apologize for any mistakes
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Tell No Lies
[Part One of the third Synovus installment.]
Living on a tropical island didn’t mean the weather was always sunny.
Your island wasn’t in quite the right spot to really get the worst of the monsoon season - too far on the eastern side of the Pacific - but you did still get plenty of rainstorms. When that happened, your group of minions battened down the hatches, triple checked the generators, and usually played cards or other bored games. Sorry, board games.
Sometimes you played, sometimes you didn’t. You weren’t playing this time, because you were catching up on some reading. Sans costume, slumped sideways in a chair, one hand on the cup of hot chocolate you had requested and immediately forgotten about.
Then your phone had dinged.
That was weird, because during storms you didn’t usually have service - technology hadn’t yet beaten Mother Nature entirely. But there were the underwater cables that had been set up to provide internet access, and emergency calls.
And that was more than enough for an entity like Optix to get through when it wanted to. Even when your phone was set to silent.
With a small sigh, you had set the book aside and reached for the screen. An email from Optix: the subject line, in all caps, “INVITATION.”
Intriguing.
You opened it, scrolling past the gold-adorned letterhead to the digital party invitation. You read it. You deleted it. You reluctantly pulled it from the trash folder to read it again. You forced yourself to read it a third time.
‘Thank you for informing me.’ You replied to Optix, before sliding the phone away. The book came to rest comfortably against your chest, pages down, probably doing all kinds of damage to the spine. You stared up at the ceiling, ignoring the present to alternate between stewing over the possibilities of the future and miring yourself in the past.
Eventually, your field of vision had been interrupted by a slow-moving face, drifting in from your peripheral. One eyebrow raised, only inches from your own face, it continued moving slowly and smoothly past where most people would have reached a limit.
“Dude.” Alexandria said, “You haven’t even blinked in like. Two minutes.”
Your erstwhile ‘apprentice’ was using her abilities to float over you. Wearing her suit, which had been modified recently to include panels of bright color against the near-black gray you’d initially designed, she looked sleek and surreal. And older than seventeen, though maybe you just couldn’t judge ages past ‘young’ anymore.
“Hello, Menace.” You’d greeted her placidly. “How goes the Great Pacific Vandalism Project?”
Alexandria beamed, and floated away an inch or so to a more comfortable speaking range. She’d finally gotten a better handle on equilibrium in flight, so her gestures as she talked no longer caused her to wobble in whatever direction she indicated. “It went great! We finally managed to get that CEO.” Her grin widened, “Right in the middle of a press conference.”
“It was satisfying.” A different voice had agreed, as another costumed figure moved into your general field of view. This one didn’t lean over you, but rather settled into the chair opposite, and helped themself to your hot chocolate. Cold chocolate, by now.
A bit of concentration had changed that, as the thief raised the mug to consider it. Their dark blue form-fitting suit had changed in recent times as well, now featuring more delicate details around the neck and wrists. Not quite scales, not quite flourishes, not quite vines, picked out in a slightly darker shade. The short cape at the hips now had flared ends, rather than a pointed tip. It had an elegance that Menace’s suit lacked.
Or perhaps that was the wearer?
“Naiad.” You’d been certain that your tone hadn’t changed. “Welcome back.”
Minerva had lifted the stolen mug in salute, and allowed you a trace of a smile. Crime agreed with her - even if she only rarely agreed with it. Once the straight-laced, impeccable hero Athena, she was now known much more widely as the Naiad: a bioterrorist with a strong cult following among ecology groups.
Over the past year, she had very publicly and very precisely targeted companies who were responsible for much of the pollution going into the Pacific Ocean. Working alone at first, then allowing Menace to join her, she had made trips to the great garbage patches that floated in the ocean’s wide expanse, and returned their contents very directly to sender.
Cars, homes, persons, factories and distribution centers (while they were closed and no one was present; employees were innocent until proven guilty) were all fair game. The only way to be sure of immunity from the Naiad’s attacks was to publicly document cleanup efforts, make donations to the groups who did the same, and implement vast reductions in pollution.
It was good mother/daughter bonding time for the two of them. You knew your presence would only overshadow their efforts, so you simply offered aid and tips during the planning phases. And there was the standing unspoken fact that you would appear to bail them out, if it ever became necessary. So far, it had not been necessary.
Minerva had even admitted, grudgingly, that this new angle on life was, at times, fun.
And that, really, plus the trace of a smile, is what had given you a terrible idea.
—------------------------------
What was even more terrible was that Minerva had agreed.
She stood now at your shoulder, just a step behind, while your invitation was inspected by a man who had gotten very tense at your approach. His costume was patterned in pale yellows and purples, a strip of rainbow draped over his collarbones. You couldn’t make out much expression behind the mask, but you didn’t really need to when you could hear the material creaking as he prepared to square up.
“I am… confused.” He allowed, considering the printed invitation. “You - do know this is a hero’s wedding, right?”
“I’m aware.” You answer flatly, the helmet giving you a wonderfully crisp punctuation. You’ve made only the slightest concessions to the event’s formality in the form of a nicer, gilt-edged cape with decorative clasps, and white rose corsages at your wrists to indicate your intention of peace. “I don’t begrudge you the confusion, Sun Dog. I will be grudging if you attempt to deny me entry.”
Sun Dog hesitated a moment more. You really didn’t want to hurt the man, no one you knew of did - which was probably why he was the bouncer at this particular event. It was hard to hate the person whose sole job was disaster response and relief.
Just when you were resigning yourself to this going poorly at the gate, Naiad leaned forward over your shoulder. Her costume had been adapted to include a floor-length skirt in a blue ombre, slit to the thigh on the sides and revealing the usual suit’s leggings beneath, and her arms were bare to the shoulder except for jewelry in the places of her normal accents. She’d pinned her hair up with sea-shell and coral pins, with deep purple pearls for earrings. You stopped breathing, attempting to be as still as possible to prevent any of those decorations catching on part of your ensemble.
“Parhelion. We’ll cause no trouble.”
The name clearly meant something to him. Sun Dog’s body language changed, shifting rapidly through a few shades of things you didn’t know him well enough to identify. None of them were hostile, though, so you gave the man his moment to process.
“I… had my suspicions, but…” Sun Dog shook his head, “Sorry. Not the time or the place. Glad you’re alright - Naiad, is it?” At her confirming nod, he continued, “Anyway, the invitation is legitimate, I’m just surprised you actually came. Uh. Guest book is ahead, gift table to the left. Good luck?”
You nodded regally and moved further into the venue, gaudily bedecked in white and taupe and glittering silver and gold. At the guest book, you confined your signature at first to the simple stylized S that was popular among bored schoolchildren. Naiad signed more gracefully, and pressed the pen back into your hand. You contemplated stealing it to make a point, but added the remaining letters to your name in a normal script instead.
Naiad was also the one to place your gift - a small black box with a silver ribbon - among the bright and shiny assortment of well-wishes, though that was more a matter of practicality. If you’d put it there, everyone would’ve assumed it was a bomb.
And the entire time, you were surrounded by people in costume. Some had made little to no alteration to their standard getups. Others had clearly commissioned outfits specifically for this event. Those who were part of the wedding party were all in what felt to you like mockery of their usual garb; the same shapes and silhouettes, but in shades of champagne and adorned with glitter, their masks or helms altered to match each other.
You didn’t stand out as much as you might’ve. There were heroes who dressed in dark colors and full-coverage helmets. It was the cape that really made your silhouette distinctive, which was why you’d shortened it from its usual wide floor-length to a slimmer, knee-length drape. And besides, who would invite Synovus to a wedding? Particularly this wedding?
Abruptly, you wished that changing your outfit hadn’t felt like so much of a concession, a surrender. You wished that you could’ve hemmed and hawed between narrow or wide skirts, short or long sleeves, backless or high necked. Layers of chiffon, of deep blue with tiny flickering gems in blues and greens and purples, a clear blue sash at the waist, or perhaps a shawl around the shoulders -
But that kind of wishful thinking is what got you here in the first place. The moment passes. Your suit is familiar, fitting, and practical. The rosettes at your wrists feel like chains.
You hear the first whispers from one of the bright costumes around you. Is that Synovus?
You turn to Naiad, “We should find our seats.”
—-------------------------------
You were, rather mercifully, seated to the back and one side, in a portion of the room not quite as well lit. The set up was rather traditional, with everyone split down rows, and the aisle in the center. You were on the bride’s side, and couldn’t honestly have said what the name of the groom was.
A few of the heroes had taken to eyeing you. Before they could investigate or act on their suspicions blindly (you knew which one you thought was more likely), the music started.
And the lights went out.
Your hand found Naiad’s in the darkness, and you lifted it to your helmet so she could feel you shake your head. Not me. Your power was quiet, the shadows entirely natural. You remained still, watching the attendees shift and begin to whisper. Most of them must have been warned ahead of time - prudent, considering how many of these people you’d fought. How many of them had you given a fear of the dark?
When a light appeared, it was not natural, nor electric. Nor was it yours. A pale silver glow began at the foot of the aisle, illuminating from beneath one high heel. Then another. On the next step, the first light began to float, turning from a spot on the floor into a small orb of light. Others joined it, like so many small sparkling stars.
In this way the bride, the hero Dazzler, made her way down the aisle.
You had to admit, it was a stunning display. On occasion, one of the lights would twirl around her, granting tantalizing glimpses of her dress and playing off the crystals in her hair. The pale silver glow was soft and alluring, and in the darkness of the room, it made her seem as though she were a deity of creation; the steps she took forming reality in her wake.
At the altar, she paused, to hand off her bouquet. Then she turned to face the crowd, raised her hands, and called all of the globes of light to encircle her and the man in a suit who was presumably her groom. They formed the shape of a heart, then faded as the room’s lights came back on.
Everyone oohed and awed appropriately. Naiad shifted, and you realized you still held her hand. Without conscious thought, your grip had tightened. Abruptly, you let go.
The two of you sat in silence as the ceremony began.
—----------------------------------
Once everyone had moved to the tables, you actually thought you might get through this without being officially recognized by anyone other than Sun Dog. That was both a relief, and mildly insulting.
Naiad had given you questioning glances since you had left the ceremony, but you’d yet to provide an answer. You’d warned her before you arrived that you would speak as little as possible once inside the venue - your voice would certainly give you away. Naiad had said that was the consequence of being a monologuer. You’d protested, vociferously, because it was true.
But as the guests were mingling, the open bar being besieged, the instant your shoulders started to relax, there was a high pitched shriek from somewhere behind you. Not a shriek of terror or anger or surprise. One of joy.
Of course.
The syllables of your name filled the air, broken into three and a half parts. There was a frantic rustle of cloth and the rapid clicking of heels. Then arms wrapped around your middle, and a heavily perfumed, glittery weight slammed into you.
You, very judiciously, did not move.
“I’m so glad you came!” Dazzler gushed, moving around in front of you. She let her arm trail as she did, so that she never lost contact with you. You felt like you were being circled by a shark. Up close, the makeup and glitzy hair-pieces felt like an attack. “You never RSVP'd! I’d almost given up hope!”
You still had not moved, even to turn your head. Dazzler pouted at you, and you tried to ignore that you knew she was just looking at herself in your helmet’s reflection. Around you, half the guests had abandoned their chairs or their place in line at the bar, half-starting, ready to leap into action. Every single pair of eyes in the place was fixed on the two of you.
And you knew that this was exactly why Dazzler had invited you. You’d known when you received the invitation. You knew when you decided to attend. Because this kind of bullshit was exactly why you’d harassed her into moving to a different continent.
“Many felicitations, Diane.” You reply, as though she isn’t doing her damnedest to make a scene. As though she’d cornered you in a hallway, instead of the middle of the banquet hall. “I get invited to so few parties - I can’t imagine why.”
Laughing, Dazzler moves to swat you on the arm, and transitions from that to looping her arm through yours. “Oh, Syn. People just don’t know you, that’s all! Come on, say hello to everyone with me, it’ll-”
You have no intention of being dragged off by Dazzler to become arm candy. But before you can find a way to elegantly maneuver out of the situation, Naiad is stepping between you.
“Perhaps things have changed since my wedding.” Without a filter, Naiad’s voice is not far off from Athena’s. She’s taking a terrible risk to do this, that someone will identify her by her past persona and its questionable end. But Athena never took quite that tone of condescension. “But greeting the guests is typically something one does with their groom.”
“Oh.” Dazzler steps away, a tiny frown creasing her brow. She’s not used to having competition. Not used to being thwarted by anyone who isn’t you. Still, she recovers quickly, laughing again and holding the back of one hand to her forehead. “Of course! With all the preparations and everything, I forgot there’s so many steps! You must remember, right? All the decisions you have to make, and then there’s so many people here -”
Again, Naiad cuts her off, “Then we wouldn’t want to monopolize so much of the bride’s time. Happiness - and many years of it - to you both.”
She raises an arm to your back, and automatically, you reciprocate. It makes you a unified front, automatically reinforcing her words. You know everyone here will remember this. Naiad is now permanently associated with Synovus.
“Be well, Dazzler.” You add, so no one will think this is some kind of catfight you allowed to happen. You’re not sure that thought was coherent, actually, but saying something seemed important at the time.
Together, you and Naiad turn away, moving to your assigned seats in a corner. The rest of the room is silent, except for the music no one thought to pause. Dazzler’s bridesmaids - most of them heroes themselves - swarm her, whispering furiously.
Dazzler raises her voice to be heard by everyone when she responds, “Oh, we used to date.”
———————————
“I dislike that I can’t even call that woman a menace without besmirching my daughter’s name.” Naiad said, some time later.
The two of you had sat in silence while the room slowly restored itself to a cautious order. No one had forgotten you were there, but some seemed to accept that you were here peacefully. Given that you were not going to remove your helmet, and therefore could not actually consume anything, both you and Naiad had eaten before you came. This also spared the nervous waitstaff the task of servicing your - otherwise empty - table.
You let out a long, slow exhale, below what your helmet will verbalize. “Calling her anything will please her, in the end. Any attention is good attention, and if it lets her play the virtuous victim, all the better.”
Naiad glances back at you, gauging something. “She fooled you?”
You wince, attempt to communicate something solely by facial expression, and fail utterly because you’re wearing a helmet. How to describe what you’d seen in Dazzler once?
“I…. Wanted very badly to be someone worth effort. She caught me by surprise. It wasn’t until much later I realized she actually believed….” You break off, grimacing.
Naiad’s head tilts in a way that suggests she’s raising her brows at you. “Believed you loved her?”
“No - no, I knew she thought that. I wasn’t - I was young.”
These had been the days before Rosie, before Doll. Before there had been anyone but you, still running from and hunting any of Sunhallow’s surviving lieutenants. Nineteen and alone and then suddenly there was someone telling you otherwise, someone with a power of light so like and so different from your father’s.
“She felt.” You say finally, “That we were… destined. Her light, to my darkness. That I was… tameable.”
It had taken some years of retrospection to put the pieces together, but you had. Dazzler had wanted a tame villain; proof she was worth loving enough that it erased your identity in the process. Justification for everything she was, because she was the ‘good’ half. The ‘pure’ one.
“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Naiad mutters. She raises one hand, as though to pinch the bridge of her nose, but settles for bracing against the mask’s thick material.
“That too. But as I said - we were young.” Your voice was dry, and a little bit weary. Dazzler exhausted you, even now.
“Does she-?” Naiad cuts herself off, looking to re-affirm that Dazzler (and her groom) are on the other side of the room. Still, she lowers her voice, “Does she… know, then?”
Your laugh is bitter, but it is a laugh, “No. No, I got away before she learned all my secrets.”
You tap the table, curving your hand to make a small alcove where only you and Naiad can see your palm, and summon a small flicker of light. Then you let your hand fall flat again, extinguishing it.
“I am complete without her, by whatever metric you care to use.”
Naiad nods, accepting that explanation. There had been glasses of water on the table when you arrived, and she’d pulled one closer to claim it. You can tell she’s thinking by the way she traces its rim. You can tell she’s upset in some way by the way the water in the glass rises to follow her movement.
“How’d you explain the tattoo?” She asks mildly.
“She never saw it. I think she believes I have scars I don’t want anyone to see.”
A tattoo was a kind of scar, in a way, so it hadn’t been a lie. And it had fit with the image of you Dazzler so wanted, for you to have been broken and abused. Ashamed.
Naiad narrows her eyes, “If you were lovers, then-“
“Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to, my dear.”
She leans back in her seat, taking the glass with her. She sips at the water and surveys the crowd. You pretend not to be surveying her. Dazzler was not a secret, per se, but the details of how you’d felt about it are not something you’ve ever shared.
You need to stop giving Minerva your secrets. Particularly when she doesn’t realize how many of them she holds.
The music is upbeat and space-filling. Loud enough that conversations are confined to their groups, but not loud enough you have to shout to be heard. You’re pretty sure this song is on one of Menace’s playlists - something by Chappell Roan.
“Synovus, why are we here?” Naiad asks finally. You willingly give up any attempt to identify the song to consider the question.
“Because I’ve never been to a wedding. Well, no, that’s not quite true. I’ve never been a guest at a wedding.”
Naiad’s gaze drifts to the middle distance, and she downs the remaining water like she wishes it was something stronger. You silently slide another glass over towards her - they set the tables for six apiece.
“Whose wedding were you in?” She asks, making conversation.
“Mine. Technically.” It’s a long story.
Minerva - no, Naiad, you need to think of her that way in the field - had been toying with the stem of the second glass. Now she stopped, becoming very still. At first, your attention pivots to your surroundings, searching for the threat.
Then Naiad says, flatly, “Explain.”
��It wasn’t - like this.” You wave a hand. “I - this was after Dazzler. There wasn’t - I’m not still married.”
“Synovus.”
“It lasted a week, as we’d agreed at the start, the identities were fake, and we swore to never speak of it to each other again.”
It had been a last grasp at normalcy. You didn’t have a social security number, you hadn’t had a community in which to undergo rites of passage that weren’t geared towards Sunhallow. You’d never been to a public school or a prom or a fucking football game. But getting Vegas married and having a honeymoon, then immediately divorcing?
Well that you could do.
“Who did you even do this with?” Naiad asks, flabbergasted and possibly appalled.
“Ah.” You wish you could sip water, to buy yourself time. “Tallflawes.”
Naiad’s outraged, “What?” Is drowned out, however, by the sound of shattering glass, as a blurred figure drops through the roof.
———————————
It’s a bad idea to crash a wedding. Lots of people, most of them easily rallied to at least half the attendees’ defense. It’s worse when more than half the guests have superpowers.
The good news was that no one had to worry about the falling glass - there were four or five different barriers flung up immediately.
The bad news was that it was absolute fucking chaos for five minutes. You hope no one attending had epilepsy.
You, of course, had no intention of intervening. This wasn’t your doing, you were going to be blamed for it regardless, so you might as well enjoy the show. But then you’d recognized the invader as Prodigy. And he was alone.
And the only thing he was yelling, over and over, was your name.
So you stood, removing the white rosettes at your wrists as casually as someone adjusting cuff links. You called to the shadows you’d been keeping at bay. You dialed up the volume of your helmet’s speaker.
And as everyone in the room except Naiad - including Prodigy - found themselves wrapped in solid darkness, you bellowed into the room,
“BE SILENT.”
You also had a small loop of shadow kill the music, because you never did a thing by halves.
As the room suddenly quieted, Prodigy came to drift in the middle of the space. The hum of his hoverboard was the loudest thing in the room at the moment. He wasn’t even struggling against your bonds.
And when he neither complained nor cracked a smile, only looking at you with wide wild eyes and tendrils standing on end, you felt your stomach drop. You knew even before he said, “They’re coming, Synovus! My homeworld - they sent a ship!”
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[I did say this was the one where they went to space. Buckle up, everybody, it’s time to dance!
Which Chappell Roan song is playing? Whichever one you personally believe is funniest and/or most tragic. Tag it!
Links to Ao3.]
#synoverse#synovus#Tell No Lies#Personally I liked the idea of the song being Super Graphic Ultra Modern Girl#but I see potential in other options#Also#what are people’s thoughts on Dazzler?
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Scream For Us
Scream AU! Carlos Oliveira x Reader x Leon Kennedy
Warnings: nsfw, slasher kink, slight dub con, threesome
Do you like scary movies?
A/N: I know i missed halloween, don’t say anything about it
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Nestled cozily upon the plush cushions of your couch, you find yourself surrendering to the allure of a horror movie.
Just as the tension in the movie reaches its peak, the shrill of a telephone breaks your immersion. Your gaze snapped away from the screen and across the room to where the phone sits, “Who the hell calls someone this late?” You grumbled inwardly.
At first, you ignored the ringing until it ceased. You were about to turn back to the movie when it persistently rang again. With great annoyance, you threw the remote control onto the coffee table and stormed over to the phone.
Plucking the handset off its cradle, you placed the device to your ear, “Hello?” You sighed into the receiver.
“Hello.” A gravely, oddly seductive voice replied on the other end. Then you were met with silence.
“Can I help you?” You asked.
“Who is this?” The man interrogated eerily.
“Who are you trying to reach?” You retort.
“I don't know.” He eerily replied with a hint of sarcasm.
You scoffed and rolled your eyes, “I think you have the wrong number.”
“Do I?” The voice had a mischievous edge to it, making you almost smirk. Instead of responding, however, you quickly hung up the phone.
Returning to your seat next to the television, you resumed the movie, not even bothering to rewind. But despite your attempts to ignore it, the ringing of the phone persisted yet again.
After several minutes of trying, and failing miserably, to ignore the sound, you forced yourself to get up out of your seat again and retrieve it. “Hello?” You sighed.
The voice from earlier spoke, “I’m sorry. I guess I dialed the wrong number.” You could imagine the cocksure grin on his face.
“So why did you dial it again?” You asked, clearly not amused.
“To apologize.” He replied simply.
You rubbed your eyes and sighed, “Apology accepted. Bye.” As you were about to hang up abruptly, he griped in protest. “Wait, don’t hang up.”
“Why?” You raised an annoyed brow.
“Cuz I wanna talk for a sec.” He said with a hint of playfulness.
“Well, I don’t. Goodbye.” You raise your voice before abruptly hanging up the phone yet again. When the man called a third time, though, you decided enough was enough.
“What do you want?!” You snapped into the receiver.
After an awkward beat passed between the two of you, he answered, “Listen, I was just curious about you.” He spoke casually. “Why would you hang up on me so easily? We haven't even gotten to know each other,” The man was starting to get cocky.
You pinched the bridge of your nose with a groan, “Who are you?”
“You tell me your name, I'll tell you mine.” The man continued, unperturbed by the clear irritation in your voice.
“You first.” You couldn’t help but smirk, twirling the telephone’s cord around your finger. There was a pause that seemed to stretch on longer and longer the more you waited.
The movie you were watching was still playing in the background, the only thing breaking the uncomfortable silence. “What’s that noise? You watching something?” His voice chimed in again. This time, though, his voice was laced with curiosity rather than jovial teasing.
You let out another exasperated groan into the phone and turned your attention back to the television. “Just some scary movie,” You mumbled, resting your chin in your palm.
The man chuckles, “Do you like scary movies?” His voice seemed to carry intrigue with it.
You let out a small laugh as well, “Maybe. I haven’t watched many of them recently. They make me kind of nervous, though.” You admitted, playing along with his banter.
“Yeah? Why’s that?” He inquired.
“They scare me,” You admitted bluntly. “Sometimes I’ll even get nightmares.”
There was a low hum of amusement from the other side of the line, then another moment of silence. “So, you got a boyfriend?” The man finally spoke again, causing you to choke on your breath. “Or a girlfriend, maybe?” He added, his tone suggesting a flirtatious quality.
Despite being flustered by the question, you managed to give him a sharp reply nonetheless. “Why? You interested?” You mused.
“Maybe.” Again, there was a brief pause, followed by a quiet laugh, “Do you have a boyfriend?”
You chuckled softly as well, “No...” Your lips creased to form a small smile as you continued to coil the telephone cord around your fingers.
“You never told me your name.” He prodded.
“Why do you want to know?” You teased, smirking and leaning back against the sofa.
Once again there's a short pause, followed by his dark chuckle. “Because we want to know who we’re looking at.” His tone sounded much more sinister. Your eyes were instantly blown out wide. You swore for a moment your heart stopped. The air was sucked out of your lungs and you felt an icy chill run down your spine.
“E-excuse me?” You stuttered, unsure if you heard right. But you knew you heard right when he responded, his husky whisper filling your ears and making every nerve in your body tingle, “I said I want to know who I’m talking to.” He lied.
“That's not what you said.” You quickly stood up from the couch and walked towards the nearest window. Were you crazy? Was this a prank, and he was just some weirdo stalker? What the fuck was going on?
“This isn’t funny.” You pressed yourself against the glass as hard as you could, peering outside of the home in hopes of catching sight of someone standing beneath the street light, or maybe the yard. But there was nothing. Just darkness and the sound of wind whistling through the cracks of your window.
“Looking for someone?” He teased over the phone. His voice sounded deeper, it felt like his breath was close to your ear in real life. You knew there must’ve been a wide, devilish grin plastered on his face right then.
Your mind was racing as the paranoia set in; your chest rising and falling rapidly as your hands shook. You held your breath as you quickly hung up the phone, dropping the device onto the ground. Dashing into the kitchen, you grabbed a knife from the block and made sure to tread carefully around the house. Your stomach tied itself into knots as you hovered near the other windows in the house,
It felt like the temperature was rising, but all the air was being sucked out simultaneously. Your heartbeat rang through your ears, drowning out every other sound. You were practically walking in circles with your back facing the wall, observing every doorway in case a possible intruder would reveal themselves.
You began to back yourself up near the foyer leading to the front door. Inch by inch, you crept backward when suddenly your back met a firm, warm surface. “You’re looking in the wrong spot, sweetheart.” It was the voice from the phone. You felt someone’s breath tickle the back of your neck, causing your hair to stand.
Gasping, you quickly spun around to face him, eyes widening as you took his appearance in. He was tall, dressed from head to toe in a black cloak, and wore a white ghostly mask just like Ghostface.
“You should put that knife down before you hurt yourself.” He laughed, stepping towards you. His movement prompted you to take a step back, stumbling slightly as you did so.
“W-what the—How did you–” You stammered, cutting yourself off as you continued to back away. Suddenly you felt your back hit another surface.
Behind you was another man, around the same height and dressed as Ghostface too. “Where do you think you’re going?” He asked, smugness evident in his voice. He sounded just like the other one.
You were too freaked out to question anything. Instead, you raised your knife as a threat. It would prove useless though, as you were quickly disarmed when both men came closer and grabbed you.
The man behind you grabbed your knife and held the blade against your throat, keeping your back pressed against his chest. “Whatever it is you want from me, I’ll give it to you,” You muttered in defeat, looking down at the floor. “You can take my money. Take anything you want.”
“How generous.” The frontman remarked, making a gesture for the man behind you to remove the knife from your neck, “As tempting as that sounds,” he brought his face closer to yours. “That’s not what we had in mind.”
There was a short pause. “What’s your name?” He asked, tilting his head.
You hesitated a bit before answering, “(Name). My name is (Name).” You replied shakily, turning your face to the side so that you didn’t have to look at his mask.
The man behind you let out a deep chuckle and grabbed your face with one of his hands, “It’s rude not to look someone in the eyes when they’re talking to you.” He uttered.
Your heat felt like it was pounding through your chest. Maybe it was just the adrenaline coursing through you, or the fear, or the anxiousness.
Your breathing was heavier and shakier, and your body slightly trembled. Their hard bodies pressed against you. It wasn’t long before you could feel your body heating up and your palms get sweatier. Something about this situation was oddly arousing.
You couldn’t help but let out a small whimper of embarrassment, which was cut short when a finger slid under your chin and pulled your head upwards forcefully. Your eyes widened and your breaths hitched when your face was directly inches away from the frontman.
“I can see that you're scared.” He chuckled, reaching up to take off his mask. “Relax, we're not gonna hurt you.” As the mask was lifted off his face, your eyes widened slightly in shock. He had a beard and dark curly hair that hung over his eyes a bit. Despite how strong his features were, his eyes were surprisingly warm and soft. And the expression he wore caused your insides to twist into knots.
“Name’s Carlos.” He smiled, fingers caressing the side of your jaw with such gentleness, that you barely noticed it. A shiver ran down your spine, you couldn't help but blush.
The man behind you grunted, pressing himself into you. “Leon.” He rasped, taking his mask off as well. You glanced behind yourself to look at him. Compared to Carlos, Leon’s features were a lot sharper. He had blue eyes, blonde hair, and a smooth face.
Both men were equally handsome, causing you to willingly lower your guard. Something about this predicament was exhilarating to you.
Your thoughts started to warp from nervousness to a mix of fear and excitement.
But the thought was fleeting once Carlos’s voice chimed in, “Look at that.” He remarked with evident amusement, “Someone’s turned on by this.” He teased.
You felt your face grow hotter, gnawing on the inside of your lip as you soaked everything in. Your mind was screaming at you to quit having these thoughts, but your body wanted it. Your thighs pressed together to alleviate some of the tension growing between your legs.
Carlos noticed this, smirking a bit as he glanced at Leon for a moment. “You thinking what I’m thinking, Leon?” Carlos mumbled.
The two men were still smirking with amusement as they eyed you like prey. Each licking their lips, and eyes darkening with lust.
You gulped nervously, “I, uh…” Your mouth felt dry like sandpaper. No words would leave your lips, nor would any pop into your mind. You felt like you were stuck in a trance, completely incapable of doing anything.
“Spit it out,” Leon demanded calmly. “You seem to have something on your mind. Gonna beg us for mercy?” He smirked.
Before you could see it coming, both men pressed against you at once, trapping you between their bodies.
“Tell me, what would you be willing to do for us?” Carlos looked deep into your eyes as he whispered the question. Leon’s lips ghosted over the juncture between your neck and shoulders, while Carlos’s hands held your hips firmly as he loomed over you.
“Anything.” You answered, almost moaning, unable to form any kind of coherent sentence. “You can have my body. In exchange, you don’t kill me.”
Both men smirked down at you as you looked back and forth between them. “Hmm,” Carlos hummed, leaning forward slightly to press his lips softly against your ear. “I think I’ll take you up on that offer. What about you, Leon?”
Both men pressed into you simultaneously, allowing you to feel their already hardening cocks. “I have no objections,” Leon replied.
One of Carlos’s arms wrapped around your waist, holding you securely against himself, while Leon leaned in further, pressing his lips into your neck. The heat was getting more unbearable now, and you couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped your lips.
They both pressed kisses against your neck, soft and light on your skin while they caressed your body. It was as though they were enjoying this way too much. They moved their lips slowly along your neck until they reached your collarbone.
Your body tensed when Carlos pressed against your chest, causing your nipples to perk up from the friction. That's when one of Carlos’s hands cupped your face as he detached his mouth from your collarbone and brought your lips to his.
Moaning into his mouth, you were too distracted to notice how they each moved a hand toward your thighs. Before you knew it, they were roughly gripping onto your thighs and grinding themselves against you.
Carlos grunted into your mouth, slipping his tongue past your lips, while Leon groaned into the back of your neck.
This all seemed to happen in a matter of seconds, but it also felt like it lasted an eternity. The feeling of their combined weight was intense as well. You could barely focus on anything else other than the sensations being thrust against you.
After several moments passed, Carlos broke the kiss. “You want this?” He whispered, breathing heavily while tracing circles over your hips with his thumbs.
“Yes,” You breathed out quietly.
Once you said that, Leon grabbed your hips and continued grinding against your backside, holding your body firmly against his. Meanwhile, Carlos slides a warm hand up your shirt, cupping and squeezing your chest
His thumb trailed lightly over one of your nipples while his other hand dipped beneath the waistband of your pants. You bit your lip harder trying to suppress a moan as his fingers brushed against your sex causing you to shudder.
Your knees wobbled, knocking against Carlos’e legs as you struggled to control yourself. You quickly moaned out, “Please,” sounding weak and desperate, causing Carlos to grin in response.
Carlos’s fingers continued to rub you until his fingers were soaked with your juices; after which he removed his hand, and you whined.
“You’re wetter than I imagined,” Carlos commented huskily. “Want me to take care of that?” His eyes met yours, boring into the depths of your soul. you were already long gone, lost to the pleasure.
You quickly nodded your head, “Please don’t stop.” You begged, grinding your hips into his to persuade him. The effort was meaningless though as he would shove his hand back into your underwear, this time teasing your wet hole.
You gasped loudly as he began to pump his fingers inside of you, making your head spin and stomach churn. You were panting heavily, your legs trembling, holding onto Carlos’s shoulders for support.
Fuck!” You choked out, burying your face in Carlos’s chest as you tried to control your arousal. You could feel your eyes starting to roll to the back of your head as you closed your eyes tight.
When Leon bit down on your shoulder, you let out a loud cry, arching up into him. He wrapped his arms around your front, almost pulling you back onto him so that he could grind deeper against you.
“That’s it.” Leon cooed, his hand grabbing your ass. “Keep moaning, sweetheart.” A moan tumbled out of you, followed by another.
They both grinned as they watched you fall apart in their arms. Carlos thrust his fingers deep inside of you, causing you to scream out in pleasure. “That’s it. Just like that.” Leon encouraged you. “More.”
Your entire body shook violently as Carlos pumped his fingers into you faster, his eyes never leaving yours as he watched your body go through its euphoric state. “Mh…More..” You huffed, your head falling back against Leon’s chest.
“You want more?” Carlos raises a brow teasingly before slowing down his movements and then removing his hand altogether. Your gasp was followed by a disappointed sound as Carlos’s body pulled away.
He seemed to wink at you as he stepped back, allowing Leon to fully spin you around to face him. Without warning, he lifted you and threw you over his shoulder. You yelped in surprise, grasping his arm as he carried you across the room.
“Where are we going?” You asked, your voice shook from the initial shock.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” Leon uttered as he continued to carry you. Soon you were deposited onto the sofa, lying on your back while Leon stood beside the couch beside your head and Carlos kneeled between your legs.
Leon’s hands found the hem of your shirt, ripping it upward until your chest was exposed to the cool night air. Carlos teased your nipples with his fingers, causing your breath to hitch as you squirmed in his grasp.
While playing with your nipples, his tongue darted out to swirl around one. You whimpered when the sensation of Carlos’ teeth dragging over your skin as he sucked your nipples harshly.
Carlos released one nipple, only to suck on the other while looking at you. Your eyes fluttered closed when he licked down your chest, sucking gently on a spot that made your entire body shiver.
Carlos leaned closer to nibble on your chest, his fingers circling your nipples tightly. His fingers dug into your flesh before as his lips traveled down your body.
“Oh god,” You moaned, your hands clutching onto the sofa cushions.
After licking up down to your navel, he glanced up at you and then stopped. “How long can you hold your breath for?” Carlos asked suddenly.
Suddenly, there was an abrupt change in the atmosphere. You were briefly stunned by the random question, “Huh? I don’t know.” You blinked, staring up at Carlos who still sat between your legs. “Why do you ask?”
“Just curious is all,” Carlos replied nonchalantly before resuming his teasing of your body.
Before you could even blink, you felt Leon grab your arms and pull you toward the end of the couch. Your head hung upside down off the edge, completely helpless to whatever he was going to do to you.
You were met with Leon’s cock and balls in your face. “Open your mouth,” Leon demanded, his voice low and rough.
It wasn’t necessary. As long as you had a chance to breathe, you weren’t gonna turn down this opportunity. Opening your mouth wide, you obediently accepted him into your mouth.
He was slow and gentle as he thrust into your mouth. You tried to suck him down as best as you could, but soon enough, he started fucking your mouth harder, pushing his shaft deep inside and hitting the back of your throat as he did. Both of his hands wrapped around your neck, keeping you steady in the process.
Leon let out a low, satisfied groan each time he thrust into your mouth, to which you would gag with discomfort. Soon blood started to rush to your head and it became harder to breathe through your nose. You squeezed your eyes shut tightly, gurgling against Leon’s cock.
Your hands were now desperately clawing into the sofa cushion underneath you as Leon continued to fuck your face. When your throat abruptly closed around his cock, he hissed out. “Fucking Christ.”
His grip on your neck tightened causing you to let out a strangled groan against him, which prompted Leon to slam his thick cock deeply into your mouth again.
“Take it.” Leon continued letting low growls of pleasure escape his lips and he continued to pound hard into you. He was enjoying himself more now. Each stroke of his cock against your mouth was accompanied by some sort of grunt or groan that made your core tingle.
Too distracted by Leon, you failed to notice Carlos’s breath fanning against your inner thighs. Your underwear had been carefully peeled off, and it seemed like Carlos was planning to take you with his mouth.
First, you felt his lips graze your sex, making you squirm and gasp against Leon’s cock. He took you in his mouth, circling his tongue around you and sucking harshly. He continued moving his tongue across your opening, taking you in as far as possible without actually swallowing you whole.
Your moan sent vibrations down Leon’s cock, causing him to twitch in your mouth. “Fuck, keep it up, Carlos.” He grunted, prompting Carlos to continue hungrily tongue-fuck your hole. You were struggling to remain still, legs quivering and hips bucking against his tongue, trying desperately to stay conscious and not pass out from lack of oxygen.
You raised your arms to tap on the back of Leon’s thigh, signaling to him that you needed to breathe. Instead, he pushed deeper, stopped moving, and held himself inside your mouth. You instinctively gagged and squirmed against the restriction of Leon’s weight and the fact that you couldn’t draw a full breath.
“Shit.” Leon moaned at the feeling of your throat closing around him.
Carlos only chuckled against your sex, plunging a couple of fingers inside you to accompany his skilled tongue. He thrust them deep inside you before curling his fingers against that spot that made your back arch. You clenched around his fingers and tongue as your eyes rolled back into your skull.
“Oh, they liked that.” Carlos chuckled against you, removing his tongue but keeping his fingers still inside. He pumped deeper and harder, kissing your inner thighs.
You swallowed around Leon’s cock again, urging him to let you breathe. Slowly, he withdrew his glistening cock, allowing your saliva to drip onto your upper lip and eyes. You gasped for air, shuddering and moaning heavily while Carlos continued to give you head. You felt your hips bucking against Carlos’ hand, begging for more stimulation.
He grunted against you, hooking his arms under your thighs and pulling you flush against his mouth. You squirmed against him, feeling the tip of his tongue press against your slit as he thrust harder against it.
“Shit, don’t make them cum yet,” Leon grunted as he stroked his cock in front of your face. Another breath later, he positioned his cock at your lips yet again. This time he allowed you to control the pace.
You stuck out your tongue and swirled it around the head of his cock. A warm sensation slowly spread throughout your whole body as Leon let out a moan, throwing his head back slightly. “Oh fuck,”
Leon kept his hips motionless, waiting patiently for you to suck him off so he could feel how much you wanted him. The longer you went without actually taking him in your mouth though, the more frustrated he got. But he said nothing else before pushing himself forward with his hips.
He opened his legs wider, thrusting deep into your throat to the point it bulged with each stroke. Leon began to rock his hips back and forth, grunting lowly. “Yeah, c’mere.” He grabbed the sides of your neck and forced you to swallow his length fully.
You instantly felt it slide down your throat, sending shocks of electricity down your spine as your jaw locked tightly around the base of his cock.
Carlos’s mouth and hands pulled away from you, only to be replaced by the head of his large cock sliding against your entrance. The precum that was beading at the tip mixed with your fluids, lubricating his shaft so that he could easily slide into you.
Carlos groaned as thick cock slid into your hole, planting both hands on your hips. “Fuck, you feel good.” He purred, lifting one of your legs onto his shoulder so that he could fuck you nice and deep while stimulating your sex with his hand.
Your body arched back against the couch, your eyes rolling back into your skull, and tears streaming down your cheeks. It was such an intense sensation. Every stroke caused you to writhe beneath Leon’s weight, making it even worse as each one sent shocks of ecstasy through your body.
Both men groaned lewdly when you clenched around them from both ends. Carlos’s movements were deliberate and controlled, whereas Leon’s movements were sloppy and erratic.
“C’mon, swallow me whole,” Leon grunted deeply, slowing down his thrusts just to make you deepthroat his cock. You obeyed him immediately and gulped his entire dick down your throat.
Leon grunted, lolling his head forward. “Fuck,” He bit his lip, slamming his hips harder against yours, griping your throat loosely. His eyes closed, mouth open slightly as the pleasure from his cock shot up through his entire body.
He grunted loudly as you swallowed him fully. “Goddamn, I’m close,” He cursed, tightening his hold around you while he thrust deeper. He began to quicken his pace, filling you up until there was almost no room left for anything else.
Leon’s face was flushed red with exertion as his movements grew quick and sloppy. His cock throbbed violently in your mouth, signaling how close he was. Just as he was about to lose it, he pulled his cock from your throat quickly, stroking his cock furiously.
With a deep growl, Leon shot his load all over your face, pumping himself through his orgasm. It was a harsh release that forced you to gasp and sputter with every pump. Some of his releases landed in your mouth, lips, and even your chest. You did your best to swallow everything down. The sight of the white liquid dripping from his dick was utterly sexy to watch
As Leon came down from his high, he released you from his tight grip and took a step back from you.
You took the opportunity to catch your breath, letting out a soft moan in the process when Carlos suddenly thrust deep and hard into your hole.
“My turn,” Carlos grinned as he firmly held your thighs, dragging your body towards so that your head could settle fully on top of the couch cushion. This swift action allowed the tip of his cock to graze the spot inside you that made you see stars.
Your eyes shot open, head lifting to look Carlos in the eyes while he fucked you. As he pounded into you relentlessly and your hole contracted violently around his shaft every time he slammed into you.
“F-fuck…” You threw your head back, gripping the edge of the couch to ground yourself while the pressure built within you with every hit, your sex throbbing uncontrollably underneath Carlos. In your dazed state, all you knew was that you needed this.
“C’mon, baby,” He growled as he pounded into your tight hole, causing you to jerk your hips upwards. “Tell me what you want.” He continued to slam into your entrance relentlessly, rubbing your sex passionately as if he knew how to make you cum hard. You could feel yourself clench around his cock, causing him to groan in pleasure.
““Deeper…” You begged, arching your back further so that your insides could rub against his dick. He smirked devilishly as he pressed down on your hips to increase the friction between your bodies.
Leaning down, he captured your lips in a searing kiss, tasting remnants of Leon on your tongue. Your legs wrapped around Carlos’s waist while his free arm snaked around your back, supporting most of your weight as he thrust deep into you.
You gripped onto the cushions above you and dug your nails into the fabric, clenching your teeth tightly together to muffle any sounds of pleasure.
“Oh no you don’t,” Carlos growled, “Let me hear you scream.” He demanded, digging the tip of his thumb against the spot that drove you crazy with pleasure. He pressed hard against the spot that caused you to tighten around him.
“I wanna cum, Carlos! Please!” You held onto him for dear life, moaning loudly. His fingers tightened around your hips and he grunted deep against your mouth. The two of you rocked together, grunting and growling into each other's mouths as sweat dripped down your foreheads.
“Please...I need this….I need y--oh fuck!” You cried out as a wave of bliss hit you like a train. Tears spilled from your eyes. It had been far too long since you felt like this. Too long since you felt this full.
A loud groan erupted from Carlos’s lips, “Fuck yeah, cum on my cock.” You could feel yourself being lifted from the couch cushion slightly to allow Carlos better access to your hole.
It wasn’t possible to describe how good it felt to completely come. Everything felt lightheaded as if you were floating high up in the sky. You were dizzy and lightheaded as you tried to take in as many air molecules as possible.
As he pushed deeper into you, you shuddered under him, letting out another cry. It felt so good having him so deep inside of you. It felt so good to have him touch you so intimately. The feeling was overwhelming. You wanted more. You needed more.
Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling yourself closer to him. “God damn,” Carlos gritted his teeth, holding you so tightly that his muscles tensed. “You feel fucking fantastic, baby.” He moaned as he began to thrust harder than before.
One moment, you were gasping and panting heavily for air. The next thing you knew, you were moaning into Carlos’s mouth.
Carlos grunted loudly once again, his grip loosening around you but still keeping you trapped in his embrace. “Fuck, oh fuck.” His voice shook into your ear. He felt his balls tighten and his cock begin to twitch uncontrollably.
The feeling of him pulsing against your inner walls was so good that it sent tremors shooting through your entire body. Carlos grunted loudly, pushing himself as deep as his dick would go, grinding his pelvis against your sex in circular motions.
You squirmed beneath his weight, grabbing onto the sides of his biceps. “Don’t stop..” You panted, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist. “Cum…inside me.” You begged.
Carlos laughed loudly as he continued pounding into you, plunging deeper and deeper. “Hell yeah, I am.” He growled, “Gonna fuckin’ explode.” His breathing became ragged as his climax threatened to overtake him.
You gripped him desperately as your body trembled uncontrollably. “Please, I need you to fill me up.” You whimpered. Carlos smirked. “Oh, I am going to fill you up, baby. Don’t you worry.”
His thick erection was so engorged that it was leaking precum inside you. “Please,” You begged, squeezing his forearm gently as you felt his dick twitch rapidly within you. “Please..” Your voice broke at the thought of not being filled soon.
You bucked your hips against Carlos’s, desperate to relieve the unbearable feeling building within your core and sending sparks of ecstasy throughout your entire being. “Alright, alright, alright,” Carlos gasped, moving one hand up to grasp at your lower back.
Soon he reached his tipping point, filling you to the brim with his hot cum. He pumped his hips wildly, making you grind up against his dick in slow motion. His eyes screwed shut as he released into you, shuddering after he emptied himself.
After the intense orgasm subsided, he slowly moved off of you, standing up from the couch. Leon joined him and stood as well. “Why’d you get to cum inside?” He grumbled as he slid his pants back on.
“They wanted it,” Carlos shrugged, giving you a side glance. “If you’re so upset about it, you can cum in them next time.” He uttered.
You perked up at his comment, sitting up on the couch as both men got dressed. “W-what do you mean next time?” You questioned.
Carlos smirked as he slid his boxers on, “You thought this was a one-time thing?" Carlos chuckled, “We’ll be back, sweetheart. That I can guarantee.” He winked, kneeling beside the couch so that you two were face to face.
He grabbed your face, pulling you closer. “So don’t be alarmed if you wake up with my cock down your throat.” He teased, pecking your lips once before pulling away from you.
Leon approached you from behind, clasping a large hand over your mouth. Before you could try to fight back or scream, you were knocked unconscious.
In your final moments of consciousness, you heard the men eerily chuckle, “See you soon, (Name),” and then you succumbed to darkness.
#x reader#fanfic#smut#carlos oliveira x reader#carlos oliveira#carlos x reader#carlos oliveira smut#carlos oliveira x you#re3 carlos#resident evil x reader#leon x reader#leon kennedy#resident evil leon#re4 leon#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy x reader
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Just Friends - Part 1
Hello friends here we are with a new/old fic. like I said with the prologue, this is a rewrite of a fic I started back in 2021 so here we go
General Warnings for all parts: Swearing, drinking, sex, parental death, panic attacks
WC: 4147
Read the prologue here
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The last thing Emeline wanted to find when she got home from work that day was Francesca and Maddy in their apartment with the music so loud she could feel the vibrations through the door. If their neighbors hadn’t complained yet, as someone did just about every single time the two of them were home with Emeline with them, there was no doubt they were going to. The fact that they hadn’t gotten kicked out of the building was baffling, if Emeline had to admit it.
“There’s no way you can hear anything,” Emeline yells over the music, dropping her bag on the floor and kicking off her shoes.
“What?” Fran yells back, she and Maddy showing no care to the fact that Emeline was unusually late getting home and dancing to Maddy’s ‘feral pop punk garage rats’ playlist that Emeline didn’t need to hear right now.
Emeline reaches over to their speaker and turns the music down a little, ignoring Maddy and Fran’s protests. “Why is it so loud?”
“Music is meant to be heard,” Maddy protests.
“Yeah, heard, not blowing out your ear drums.”
“Aw, did someone have a hard day at school?” Fran teases, giving her roommate a playful shove on the shoulder.
“Notice what time it is?” Emeline gestures to the clock she had hung over the TV when they first moved in, 8:15 flashing on it when she normally got home around 5:30 every day.
The three of them sit down in their living room, Maddy on the floor, Fran in the chair she had claimed as hers for the last two years, and Emeline cross-legged on the couch, the music just loud enough that Emeline could still feel the vibrations the sound waves were sending through the apartment, not helping the growing dehydration headache she had.
Emeline recounts her day, from the lab that she had set up the night before for her honors students somehow dismantled and parts of it thrown out, knowing that the janitorial staff had a habit of mistaking some of her lab equipment as garbage at times, which meant she had to scramble to reset it before her AP students showed up to review for the test they had that day. The two free periods she was banking on using to take down the honors lab and set up the college-prep lab she wanted to do last period were both taken away because everyone in her department was getting sick, so she had to go cover other classes and use that time to plan out a new lesson for them for last period. Then, since she can’t say no to her students and they found out she played lacrosse in college, she then had to go to practice despite the fact that their season was in the spring, and it was fall. Once that was over, she finally had time to set up the lab, forgetting that she also still needed to prep for the next school day.
“So what you’re saying is, we’re ordering pizza, drinking wine, and definitely getting drunk this weekend,” Maddy says, already tapping away on her phone their usual pizza orders.
“Have fun with that. Keelan is coming over tonight, too.” Her roommates groan at the mention of her boyfriend's name. “We haven’t seen each other in two weeks since that weird conversation about the guy in the elevator. Order his pizza, too.”
“I knew I was happier these last two weeks,” Fran snides. Maddy and Fran had a strong dislike for Keelan since the four of them met during their freshman year of college. No matter how often they were together, no matter what he did for the girls, they never warmed up to him.
“Knock it off,” Emeline tells them, getting drowned out by Maddy turning the music back up, louder than it was when Emeline first walked into the apartment. Emeline groans, lying down on the cushions and putting one of the pillows over her face. She really wanted to just go to her room and rot in her bed by herself after the day she had. If Keelan wasn’t coming over, she could have changed into one of the hoodies and pairs of sweatpants she had stolen from him and sat in the dark with something on Netflix that she wouldn’t pay attention to playing in the background.
“Do you guys hear that?” Maddy asks, pulling Emeline out of the trance she fell into. “Is someone knocking at the door?”
“We would know if the music wasn’t so loud,” Emeline mutters, definitely not loud enough for either of them to hear it.
“Nose goes,” Fran says, her and Maddy holding their finger to their nose like children, pointing at Emeline to get up from the couch. “Have fun, Em.”
“I bet it’s Mrs. MacGregor,” Maddy laughs, their senile downstairs neighbor constantly coming over to tell them that they were walking too loud and it was disturbing her parrot.
“If it is, you’re buying dinner this weekend,” Emeline calls, hoping their eighty something year old neighbor wasn’t on the other side of the door. “Oh, hi.”
Two guys she was sure she had never seen in the building before were standing in front of her, practically towering over her. “Your music is kind of loud,” one of them says, his cheeks turning red, shoving his hands in his pockets like he was afraid to tell her. There was something about him that she found endearing. His beard was a different shade than the rest of his hair, adding to his charm, the nervous shake of his voice making her wish she met him in a different circumstance. If she wasn’t in a ‘murder everyone’ type of mood, she would have actually wanted to be nice to him.
“No, it is loud,” the other says, clearly not amused with his friend trying to sugarcoat the subject as Emeline makes a face at them. There was something about them that made her briefly think that they were brothers, cousins, some sort of genetic relationship had to exist between them. Either that or they were both just guys with brown hair and she was too tired to comprehend anything else.
“I know.” The shorter her answers, the shorter their conversation, right?
“Who is it?” she hears Fran calling from her chair. Emeline can picture the smug faces they had as they hoped it was Emeline who had to deal with Mrs. MacGregor and not them.
“People telling us your music is too loud.”
“Tell them to come in and say it to our faces.”
Emeline rolls her eyes at her roommates' antics, gesturing to the strangers to come in despite not knowing who they are or why they were in their building in the first place. “They could be murders that you’re inviting in,” she points out.
“We aren’t murderers,” the nervous one says to her before turning to Fran and Maddy once she leads them into their living room. “We aren’t murderers.”
“We just got back from a trip that was way too long. We’re eating dinner and then going to bed, but we can’t do that if the music is too loud,” the other one says.
Maddy scoffs, finally turning the music low enough that Emeline can finally think without the music interrupting her thoughts. “Who are you, anyway?”
“Murderers,” Emeline mumbles, reclaiming her spot back on the couch.
“We’re your neighbors. I’m John, this is Jeremy.”
“Well, John, Jeremy,” Fran starts, leaning forward on her chair, “We were just about to order pizza. Want to join us?”
Emeline glares at Fran. She knows what a long day means for Emeline’s social battery. She knows that there is nothing more that Emeline wants than to go to her room and go to bed, Keelan coming over or not.
The nervous one, Jeremy, starts to stammer. “Uh, no, it’s fine. She doesn’t really look like she’s in the mood for company, we don’t want to bother you.”
“If you’re buying, I’ll eat,” John shrugs, plopping down on the floor next to Maddy as she hands him her phone to put in what he wants.
“Johnny, we can’t.”
“Emeline is fine. She’s just grumpy,” Fran mocks her. Emeline throws the pillow at her, silently wishing she had something harder. “Exhibit A.”
“It’s been a long day.”
“Ours was longer,” John counters.
“It’s not a competition,” she shoots back. Before they can say anything else, she gets up, leaving the four of them in the living room. She didn’t need this. Her room was calling. Her sweatpants and sweatshirt were on her bed waiting to be changed into.
Someone knocks at her door just as she pulls the sweatshirt over her head. She really wasn’t in the mood for Fran to just barge in like she did. “Can you at least be nice to them for like, an hour? They’re cute. And Jeremy seems to be nervous around you,” Fran tells her in a sing-songy voice.
“So?”
“He likes you.”
Emeline scoffs, tying the strings on her hoodie just the way she likes them. “He just met me.”
“He said he’s seen you around the building and he’s been wanting to talk to you.”
“So he’s a stalker. How does that get brought up in the less than five minutes I’ve been in here, anyway?”
“Jesus, Emeline. Not everyone is looking to commit a felony.” Emeline avoids looking at her roommate, really just wanting to be left alone. “The pizza is gonna be here soon, the guys are nice, and I’ll even be nice to Keelan when he comes if you come back.”
“You’re annoying.”
“And you love me, anyway,” Fran tells her, throwing her arm around Emeline and dragging her back out to the living room, finding Jeremy on the couch still looking nervous when she comes back.
Emeline sits down on the other end of the couch, tucking her feet under her. She tries not to stare at the two of them in their apartment, but Fran was right, they are cute. John looks a little younger than the three of them, but Jeremy is about the same age, she guessed. There was something familiar about both of them, though.
“So, uh, Emeline,” Jeremy starts, not making eye contact with Emeline. “Fran and Maddy said that you’re a teacher?”
“She teaches chemistry.”
“I can speak for myself, you know,” Emeline tells Maddy.
“Not according to that one guy,” Fran points out, she and Maddy exchanging knowing looks about the one coworker that Emeline hated talking about the most just as her phone vibrates.
Her roommates really did forget that she can order sulfuric acid with a few clicks of a button on her computer.
“Should we ask?” John asks, noticing the scowl that was forming on Emeline’s face.
She rolls her eyes, knowing that thanks to her roommates, these guys would find out anyway, checking her phone and groaning, throwing it to the side. She was outside contract hours, he couldn’t make her work. “My department head is a dick. He takes my lessons and my labs and passes them as his own because he claims his ‘department head duties take up so much of his time he can’t plan on his own.’ He just texted me asking what I was teaching to college-prep so we’re ‘on the same page.’”
“Do you think he’s the one who took apart the lab you set up yesterday?” Maddy asks, Emeline noticing she stole a glance of Johnny while saying it.
“Either him or our custodial staff thought some of it was actual garbage so they threw it out,” she shrugs. “Which, reminds me, I have to order more filter paper tomorrow, remind me to do that.”
Fran and Maddy exchange looks, both of them knowing that they were going to forget to tell her, scrambling for their phones to put a reminder in for themselves.
“That sucks,” is all Jeremy can add, still not looking at her.
Emeline shrugs, her phone buzzing beside her, probably another text from Anderson. “Eh, I have some of the guys in the department who try to stick up for me, and my students seem to like me, so who cares?”
“One thing you’ll learn about Em is that part of being a teacher is that she can never check out from being one,” Maddy explains, Johnny being the one to steal a glance at her this time. “It’s constant.”
Fran, Maddy and John fall into conversation, Emeline trying to process that even though she knew it was true, while Jeremy just sat there awkwardly on the couch next to her not saying a word. Emeline was getting more tired by the minute, and Jeremy was still too nervous to say anything to her.
“You left the door unlocked again,” they hear, interrupting their conversation. Fran and Maddy roll their eyes, Emeline’s anxiety growing suddenly as Keelan lets himself into their apartment. “Do you know how many people could just walk by and rob you when you do that? I’ve told you not to -oh, hi.” Keelan stands there, clearly expecting to only lecture the girls about their door. His face turns red, a cup from Dunkin in his hands.
“Keel, this is Jeremy and John, they’re our neighbors,” Emeline explains as he walks over to her, kissing the top of her head and handing her the drink. Emeline took a sip, grimacing at the tea he had brought her, way too sweet for her own taste despite the fact that she had told him multiple times she didn’t like sugar in her coffee or tea.
“Huh, it’s like a triple date,” he says, leaving to drop his bag in Emeline’s room, the three girls exchanging equally confused glances.
“He really had to come tonight?” Fran whispers.
“He’s staying over, isn’t he?”
“Yes, and yes, stop it. You knew he was coming. You said you would be nice to him.”
“I said I would be nice to him, not about him.”
John and Jeremy sit there in awe, trying to figure out what they had just walked into. Before her roommates could protest more, Keelan comes back, sweatpants and sweatshirt on just like Emeline. Both were wearing Boston College lacrosse gear, Emeline definitely changing into the old gear because it was comfortable after what had been a day from hell, Keelan only pulling it out because the guys were there, despite the word ‘club’ written on the breast of his sweatshirt being the noticeable difference between their clothes. That didn’t matter to Keelan in the moment; Emeline didn’t even have to ask, she knew he never wore that sweatshirt unless he felt threatened by something.
“Did either of you play lacrosse?” Jeremy asks, trying to break the awkwardness.
Keelan puts his arm around Emeline, pulling her close to him faster than she was expecting. “We both did, actually. That’s how we meet.”
“At BC?”
“We all went to Boston College, we all played lacrosse. Three of us did all four years, too, on an actual varsity team, not the club team,” Fran snides, a not so subtle dig at Keelan, causing him to roll his eyes and hold Emeline almost uncomfortably close.
“That’s because there’s only a club team for men. For some reason, the AD decided the women having a team was more important despite you losing in the championship three years in a row,” Keelan tries to counter, only earning an eyebrow raise from Fran who was, without a doubt, about to say something much worse to him.
“We only lost twice and won the championship our senior year,” Fran corrected him. “BC hasn’t had a varsity lacrosse team for men since 2002. If you wanted varsity, you should have went to BU.”
“What time is the pizza getting here, Mads?” Emeline changes the subject before the dick measuring contest between her boyfriend and her roommate somehow ends with her roommate winning. Fran was, as usual in her verbal sparring against Keelan, remaining calm, while Keelan himself was two seconds from saying something that would result in him getting kicked out of their apartment permanently.
“Oh, I didn’t know you were ordering pizza,” Keelan snides.
This was awful. This was the last thing Emeline wanted to deal with when she got home. If she went to her room, then Fran or Keelan would just follow her. As soon as the pizza was there, all she wanted to do was eat it as fast as possible and run away to her room. She needed peace. She wanted quiet.
“I’m getting a drink, who wants something?” Emeline asks, wriggling free of Keelan’s grip and heading off to the kitchen with the practically full tea still in her hands. Emeline sighed, leaning against the counter with her eyes closed. It was already pushing 9:30 pm, half an hour from when Emeline normally went to bed happily since she had to wake up to take her train way earlier than she would like to every morning.
“Hey,” Jeremy startles her, causing her to bump her hip harder against the cabinet, making her wince at the pain that would definitely turn into a bruise. “Sorry, we can go if you really don’t want us here. We just wanted the music to be a little quieter.”
Emeline sighs, knowing that she was acting like a bitch. “No, it’s fine. It was just a long day that was part of a longer week. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize,” Jeremy says, quietly. He shrugs. “It happens to all of us.”
Emeline looks at Jeremy, her entire being feeling calmer with him standing there for whatever reason. “Thanks.”
Jeremy swallows, clearing his throat. “Uh, the pizza should be here any minute. If you want, you can just take it to your room instead of staying out with us,” he tells her, somehow reading her mind, “I don’t think any of us would mind. Well, Fran seems like someone who might.”
Emeline can’t help but laugh. “She means well.”
“She seems to want what’s best for you. And for Maddy. I can respect that.”
“She’s very protective, that’s for sure,” Emeline says, throwing out the tea and grabbing a glass of water. Without asking, she pours one for Jeremy, him taking it and smiling at her, sending a shiver down her spine that she didn’t quite know how to process. Fran had been there for her and Maddy’s darkest moments during college, which sounds dramatic, but she really was the first person either of them wanted to call if something was going wrong. She just cared, probably a little more intensely than either of them asked for.
The two of them go back into the living room without saying anything else, glasses in hand. The pizza had arrived, Maddy and Johnny passing them around, reading off everyone’s order.
“Why’d you order me this?” Keelan asks when Emeline sits down, box in hand as Maddy passes off the last two to her and Jeremy.
“You always get the honey barbeque chicken one,” Emeline points out, opening up her box, her favorite pizza making her suddenly excited. She didn’t realize how hungry she was, or remember the fact that she hadn’t eaten since her lunch at 11 that morning.
“Yeah, you have made a very big deal about how you always get that one pizza, because it’s your favorite,” Maddy continues, spraying bits of her own pizza everywhere.
“You’re a creature of habit, as you love to say,” Fran deadpans, not looking away from her own food.
“I don’t want this. What did you get, Emmy?”
Emeline freezes with her mouth open as she was bringing a slice to her mouth, already knowing where this conversation was going to end up. She tried to ignore Fran mouthing ‘Emmy,’ to Maddy, mocking the nickname Emeline admittedly hated that Keelan always used for her. “The White Greek pizza.”
“It’s fine, we can just switch.”
“But,” she starts, looking at her own pizza. “I don’t like barbeque. You know that.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want this.”
The two of them stare at each other for a minute, Emeline’s mind trying to process the fact that Keelan even had the audacity to ask her to eat his pizza when he knew she detested the entire thing. They were nice enough to buy him a pizza, a surprise that he wasn’t expecting, and here he was, demanding that she give him hers? She had called him on the way home and told him all about her day and what happened, and now he was adding to it? “Take mine.” Both of them turn to Jeremy, him already holding his box out for Keelan. “I thought I ordered the barbeque one anyway, not the buffalo one, it was my mistake.”
“Hey, thanks, man,” Keelan says, all too happy to take the pizza from someone he just met.
Fran, Maddy, and John start to have a conversation, tuning out the three of them on the couch. Not that they were saying anything. Emeline was too mad to eat the entire thing, only picking off the olives instead. Jeremy was trying his best not to cringe at the overly sweet pizza that he had never had any intention of ordering. Keelan just existing at that moment was enough to make Emeline irritated.
“You know what,” Emeline says, closing the box of pizza, all five of them startled and suddenly turning towards her. “I think I’m going to turn in.”
“Are you sure?” Jeremy asks, a sound of panic in his voice.
“Yeah, I mean, I’m tired, I have to wake up early and I have another long day tomorrow, anyway.” Emeline leaves before anyone can protest.
The five of them watch Emeline leave, Fran and Maddy sending death glares at Keelan.
“Why must you have the personality of a guy who’s had back pain his entire life? What is wrong with you?,” Fran scolds him, throwing a napkin at him.
“What kind of insult even is that?”
“‘I don’t want this,’” Maddy mimics in a high pitched voice. “What adult talks like that?”
“Go apologize to her or I’m going to shove my foot so far up your ass you’re going to taste that instead of the pizza you took from Jeremy,” Fran threatens.
“I offered it to him,” Jeremy tries to diffuse the situation.
“You love buffalo chicken though. Linus has fed you buffalo wings in the locker room before,” John points out.
“We’re going to talk about that in a second,” Maddy starts, “but Keelan, come on. You know how stressful this time when lacrosse starts back up for her. You could have just taken the pizza she was nice enough to order for you.”
“I knew I should have let you starve.”
Keelan huffs, putting the pizza down on the table in front of them. He knocks on the door to Emeline’s room, not waiting for her to invite him in since the lights were already off. He sees her in the dark, lying on her back scrolling on her phone. “I’m a dick.”
“I know.”
He sits down on the bed next to her. “I’m sorry.”
“For?” she asks, treating him like one of her students.
Keelan sighs, lying down. “How long have you known Jeremy?”
“I met him like an hour before you got here.”
“He was the guy in the elevator.”
Emeline groans. “I thought we were past this.”
“Well.”
“Well?”
“Well, he likes you, Em.” Emeline can’t help but scoff. “I mean, I obviously can’t blame him. But, Em, he hasn’t taken his eyes off you the entire time he’s been here. He didn’t take his eyes off you in the elevator either. John even said Jeremy had mentioned that he’s been wanting to talk to you.”
“Oh, for fucks sake,” she groans again, putting her phone on her stomach and covering her face with her hands. “So what? That doesn’t mean he likes me, it means he’s kind of a creep. And if he does, what does it matter?”
“I’m afraid.”
Emeline reaches over to turn the lamp on, wanting to get a look at Keelan for this, this confirmation she was waiting for. She studies his face as he stares up at her ceiling fan. “Afraid of what?”
“What if I lose you?”
Emeline lets out a little laugh. “To Jeremy? Please.” She rests her head on his chest, Keelan wrapping his arm around her and kissing her forehead. “At most, he can be a friend. Just like Jack. Just like Marc,” she says, referencing his college teammates.
“Jack and Marc didn’t so obviously like you.”
“Jack and Marc both tried to hook up with me multiple times during college.”
Keelan sighs, pulling her closer. “Just a friend?”
“Just a friend.”
#jeremy swayman#jswayman#jeremy swayman fic#jeremy swayman imagine#nhl#nhl fic#nhl imagine#hockey#hockey fic#hockey imagine
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Hello a TDB fan here
I have been playing the game for a week and Rui is soo fine. If it's fine with you can you write something about MC and him kissing through sheer cloth. I had seen this scene in one of the chapters of freaking romance (webtoon) and that's all I can think about after knowing Rui's curse.
notes: they/them used for MC, extremely angsty and pining, heavily inspired by his Ephemeral Bouquet card (because you can't give a man who can't touch a skill called Envisioned Future and not expect me to play with it) More Tokyo Debunker content can be found on my masterlist here (x)
I altered the request slightly? As I was thinking about the specifics of Rui's curse and his bride card a bit too much and the concept of him longing to get married sort of took over, apologies (シ_ _)シ
There are small porous holes in tulle. It's meant to make the fabric breathable. See through. Ideal for a bridal veil, which is not what you are wearing but the thought has wormed it's way into his brain now. Rui can't unsee it.
The low light shines in the sages ring, a blonde hair falls out of place and your hand moves towards your own temple. You smile; he remembers what it feels like to touch someone. He thinks there was a weight to it, a shift. Was there warmth? There wasn't a taste, or has it been so long that he's forgotten?
"You may now seal this union with a kiss." His bare skin moves through the tulle, eyes closed as his smile grows with eagerness to feel- nothing. There was a person in his arms, but his eyes open to shimmering dust. All that is left of you in his grasp is sand, but the damned veil remains. He knows what he did to deserve this, but still-
"Rui?" The glass Rui's holding slips from his fingers as he laughs, sheepishly he tells himself. Just a little of his boyish whimsy and not aching relief at seeing you still alive. "Are you sure you don't need any help?" You don't move too close, just to the opposite side of the bar. Your costume has gloves too, white would be such a nice color on you but Romi put you in grey. The same color as his hair.
"Whoops, sorry 'bout that (name)!" He snatches up the broom before you can go for it and sweeps up the shards of glass. "I didn't scare you or anything did I?"
"No I'm ok." You draw yourself up a little taller. The veil makes it a bit hard to see him, but you think there's something just a bit off with Rui. More so than usual. "Are you sure there isn't anything I can do to help? Professor Moby-"
"Nope~ I've got this on lock promise!" He sure does, the task is practically already complete but it's not really what you were asking about. "Sides you can't just let that guy push off all his work onto you! You're still a student just like everyone else there's got to be something you want to do at the fair." Rui's back to smiles and laughter. If you hadn't been paying attention you never would have noticed there was a slight dip in his mood.
Hook. "Maybe." You noticed though. Line. "I haven't gotten much of a chance to look around it just yet."
Sinker. "Well that just won't do!" Rui always seems so... happy at the thought of spending time with you. It makes your heart ache. "Just give me a second to lock up the bar and I'll take you around! We can make it a date!"
~~~~
"Wow what a unique choice for prizes!" Rui says cheerfully as you politely examine the masks this Hotarubi student has displayed at her booth. He had been talking himself up just a second ago about how he could win you a nice stuffed animal but finding a booth with only a few people around it had proved difficult. "Did you make these yourself?"
"Thank you." The girl bows respectfully and gestures towards the targets behind her with a set of darts. "Care to test your skill?" Rui winks at you.
"Can we have two sets?" Might as well have some fun and help the poor girl's numbers out.
"Of course." She sets the darts down on the counter and settles back into her chair.
"Aww don't you have faith in me?" Rui smoulders just the bit, but you think he's having fun. "I'll have you know I'm pretty good at this."
"You'd better be Mr. Bar Tender." You wink and his facade breaks just the bit. "But I'm not that bad myself."
Rui barely hears the rest of what you say, something about a bet. Something about how if you win then he has to do anything you say. He probably shouldn't agree so quickly, but he wants to be normal. Wants to pretend that this is a normal date, that you would have noticed him if he had flirted with you. That he still would have had enough confidence not to wiff every shot. Not that he feels shame for losing to you, the sting comes from not being able to-
"Do you see a mask you like?" Your smug voice is so cute, he wishes the prizes were too.
"Ahaha not really?" Now that he's staring them down, it feels like he's being mocked. Doesnt he wear enough of these already? "You're the winner here! Shouldn't you pick out which one you think suits me best?"
"Then I wouldn't pick any of them." You snort, but pick one anyway. You twirl it around in your hands and hold it up against your face. "How about this one? Sort of looks like me don't you think?" He doesn't. The mask has none of your features, it is lifeless and hollow. You lift the mask up to his face and gently tap his lips. He closes his eyes to play into it because that's what this is right? A joke?
So why is there a face behind the mask?
Nakedness would be less intimate than this, there would be room for him to lie and bluster if he didn't have his clothes. You taste like clay, he can feel the push and pull of your lips against the barrier. Rui gasps against it, opens his mouth and presses himself closer. His hands grip the lapels of his jacket, you are so so warm and alive. Your gasp for air is muffled and Rui pauses out of instinct against the mask.
"Please." He doesn't know what he's asking for. He doesn't want you to stay, this was such a risky move he's almost angry at you for it. He wishes, he wants for something he cannot have. You feel Rui smile, his kiss is gentle against the mask and finally you think you get him to say something just closing in on being real. "I hope you live forever."
The polite cough of the girl running the stand interrupts whatever you had wanted to say in response.
#<3 asks#tokyo debunker#tdb#tokyo debunker x reader#rui mizuki#rui mizuki x reader#idk if i like this#rip to hotarubi girl it's been a rough month for her etsy shop#maybe this will increase sales
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soup!sukuna
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚⋆˚🐾˖°⋆。°🎧•‧.₊˚🐰₊˚⋆⭒。⋆୨୧˚˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚⋆˚🐾˖°⋆。°🎧•‧.₊˚🐰₊˚⋆⭒。⋆୨୧˚
snippet: 2k depicting the first time reader and soup!au sukuna hookup. he's less than nice, but you're into that. modern au!! idk if it's college or whatnot, u decide (。•̀ᴗ-)✧ reader is neutral, described as having a vagina
warnings: pnv ladies and germs, rough sex ig! slapping and spanking and some degradation if you squint. sukuna being a total ass and reader playing him like a fiddle and making him question his stamina. not edited yet cuz im on that "im so proud" high
author's note shiiii: oh hello, it's me again. i am ill (i have been ill for a week), and i guess suku the gr8 has gotten to me. so pls enjoy how i think he is in my little brain. all characters are over the age of 18, and if you are reading this and are not, silently show yourself the door <3
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚⋆˚🐾˖°⋆。°🎧•‧.₊˚🐰₊˚⋆⭒。⋆୨୧˚˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚⋆˚🐾˖°⋆。°🎧•‧.₊˚🐰₊˚⋆⭒。⋆୨୧˚
There’s a harsh smack on your ass as you crawl across the bed. It has you stumble and squeak; a helping hand forcing you to arch, lay and stay against your mattress. Another high pitched noise has Sukuna chuckling above you, palming the growing erection with his other hand. You turn around and gulp.
Sometimes boys don’t lie.
“You’re so hot.” He says quietly, baritone in his tone still noticeable. You laugh, and his brows knit- the fuck are you laughing about?
There’s a push in you, forcing your spin to dip gracefully, deviously and deliciously. You sprawl your arms in front of you, fingers rubbing against one of your blankets. He’s admiring you, you can feel it. Those deep, savory eyes, colored like a cherry wine underneath the yellow ambience of your lamp, graze over the lace outline of your cotton panties.
“Thanks.” You hum, biting your bottom lip saturated with gloss and balm. No need to compliment him back, he knows he’s devastating.
He reaches out to grope and smack each of your cheeks haphazardly. You purr; his hand covers so much of you. There’s a lopsided smirk on his face, it’s apparent as he yanks the material off. Lazily, you crawl out of them, since boys can’t be bothered to take them off further than the back of your knees, and reposition yourself.
Large, gruff hands degrade you- one of them molding against the entirety of your skull to press half of your face into the bed, the other rubbing his spit onto his dick and getting ready to align himself with the opening of your pussy.
Boys.
“You gotta finger me first.”
Sukuna’s upper lip curls, looking at you like you’re all work. The feeling doesn’t fade when you openly roll your eyes. Don’t you get it, girl? You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last. So just lay there and-
“I texted you about it. I’ll literally tear,” You add.
“Alright.” He bites, unwrapping his fingers from around the base of his cock and nudging one of the digits against your slit. And holy shit you’re tight. Sensitive. Those eyes catch the slightest curl in your toes, the purse of your lips and furrow of your brows as you feel him out.
And shit, he kinda wants to see your face strewn up.
Sukuna nudges his middle finger between your legs, lips parting in realizing how tight you actually are. You were right.
if we hookup you gotta be gentle first, im tight
and not in the cool way
You hum lightly in satisfaction, something he never though the enjoyed hearing, letting a sharp gasp emit from your lungs as he selfishly adds his index. Thighs shut, Sukuna has to remove his grip from your head to inch them back apart to watch your pussy clench and flutter around a percentage of him.
“Slower.” Sukuna raises his brows at your demanding attitude- he’ll have to fuck that out of you later, but relents regardless, carefully twisting two joined fingers in and out of your walls that are already squelching and wet.
What bitchy comment you made pays off immediately, the sound of a saccharine sweet moan he pulls from you making his dick twitch. There’s a pellet of want in his sternum, something he hasn’t felt since he was a teenager who groped a pair of tits in the locker room for the first time.
After a few minutes of dragging sweet sounds from you, he experimentally pulls his fingers out, more than pleased to see your eyes open and peer at him with indignation. You huff, rubbing your socked feet together in silent anticipation.
You open your mouth to protest, only to cut yourself off with a high pitched whine as he urges three of his fingers, much bigger than any other boy you’ve had (but you won’t tell him that) back between your pussy. Preening against his touch, you move your hips back to meet at his knuckles.
Sukuna laughs once, and again when you clench around his fingers at his amusement.
“Oh.” Is what you say, all watery and whiny when he thrusts one, two, three, four times in rapid movements. It catches you off guard, and you squirm. Your fingers grapple at your sheets, face twisting to hide from his penetrating gaze. He’s enamored with your face, the way it pinches in delight.
“Are you gonna cum?”
You laugh amidst a pleasured whimper.
“No- you can fuck me now.”
Whatever face he made, you choose not to see.
He grunts, laying a smack against your pussy and kneading the fat of your hips while he aligns his. Slowly, just like your bratty, bossy ass said, he eases the tip of his cock between your plush thighs, your hot, tight walls. You pinch your face, focusing on being relaxed, letting out a garbled whimper as he sinks himself to the hilt.
The notion of him pulling out (before slamming back in, as all men do too quickly), has you reaching a hand out and nudging at his stomach to stop him.
“Slow.” You reprimand.
“Shut the fuck up.” He thinks he's gonna cum.
Sukuna graces you by easing in and out twice, dragging out a soft, sweet hum from you before he rolls his hips in a dangerously fast notion. He likes it when you squeal in surprise. Maybe if you’re not as bossy the rest of the time, he’ll look you in the eye and speak to you casually the next time you're at the basketball court with Uraume.
The tip, all angry and red just like him, pushes against your cervix. You get to squirm for a quick second before both of his hands grab at your hips to push you down, to shut you up, to keep you still. A small, uncomfortable giggle bubbles in your throat, peering at him out of the corner of your eyes.
How your eyes are slit, the way you’re expression is lidded and enchanted, has Sukuna grunting and thrusting against you harshly. Your lips, all glossy and annoyingly cute, curl into a satiated smile, parting a mere second after as he pulls out all the way just to bully himself back in.
You sink into the bed, back arched to practiced perfection.
“That’s right,” He breathes, fucking into you at a pace that forces your jaw slaw, “There you go.”
Your lashes flutter at his words go straight to your gut, hearing the petulant smack of him against your clit, the plush of your thighs. He inches closer, and you gasp as he knees you further apart and forces himself even deeper.
Thumbs nudge at the dimples in your back, pressing against them as he forces your hips to fuck against him. The fat of your ass squishes against his lower abdomen, and you swear he’s so thick you can feel the outline of one of his veins in your walls.
“Shit.” You cry, pushing yourself upright to stay steady against the forceful thrusts that threaten to knock your head into the metal bed frame. Sukuna shakes his head, moving his hands and leaning over to push you back down.
Breath leaves you, and you whimper when you feel his hands against your cheek, the back of your head, shoving your face into the sheets again.
“Sorry.” The whisper in your voice as you hiccup a moan that has Sukuna shaking his head once more in disbelief because he’s about to bust. He pulls out, forcing himself to fucking not, taking one of his hands (don’t worry, you’re still coerced down with the other) to give you an angry smack on your ass.
You’ve never heard a man growl like he just did. And well, you’ve been around the block. It’s strained and jarring and fucking hot, the way Sukuna does it in warning.
A minute later and he’s shoving himself back into you with no warning, making sure you stay right here as he pinches the chunk of flesh on your cheek. His palm is flat, forcing your lips into a dirty pout that muffles any noise that bubbles between them.
“Mhm,” He murmurs, impressed that he didn’t cum right then and there when he caught sight of your watery eyes looking so pornographic, “Keep your mouth fucking shut.”
Sukuna’s good, you’ll give him that. So you try, only to be obscured and mushed into a babbling mess the longer he fucks into you. It’s overwhelming, the way his cock stretches you out. Your walls flutter with relief each time he teases you as he pulls all the way out, only to be devastatingly, pleasurable split open with the harsh, nipped roll of his hips.
There’s a slap to your cheek. And you hum.
“Oh,” He goads, “You like that.”
You’re nodding, and he’s flipping you over, yanking you and pushing right back into you. It makes your head swim as he grabs your face between his finger, squishing it and molding it like clay. Your lips pucker like a little, helpless fish, wondering for a split second if he’ll kiss you.
He doesn’t. You don’t mind. It feels better than a kiss when he releases your face only to reel his hand back and slap you so hard across the face your ears begin to ring.
Sukuna likes that dumb look on your face, gripping the dips of your waist so he can fuck himself harder into you. The gasps and wiggles, the way your small, manicured fingers wrap around his biceps has the sharpness of his cheekbones flushing with color. It brings a brief look of annoyance to his face, because he’s on the verge of cumming again.
Your nails dig into the muscles of his upper arms, lips parted and face pinched in that sweet expression as you gaze at him with a disbelieving look at how deep he’s hitting.
“It’s too much, let me flip over-“ The begging falls of deaf ears, a large hand decorated in thick ink wrapping around your throat to finally fucking quiet you. Sukuna doesn’t let you worm away, pushing you into the bed to keep you right where you belong so he can pummel you to his own orgasm.
That look on your face- blissfully fucked out and controlled, face warm, it’s too much for Sukuna’s stamina. He pulls out, hissing under his breath as he busts all over your stomach. It squirts across your smooth skin; part of him wants to smear it and rub it in.
And you laugh. Breathy and choked, reaching up and wiping your eyes from the tears of being choked a millisecond from passing out. Sukuna unwraps his hand from your throat, giving you a supportive, congratulative pat on your cheek.
“Why are you fucking laughing?” You're weird and cocky.
You wave him off, turning and pulling open a drawer in your bedside table. Rummaging, you pull out a package of wet wipes, opening it for the two of you as you clean yourself off and toss it in the trashcan by your bed. And shit, to Sukuna, you look more well prepared than him.
He takes one and cleans himself off. You pull up your panties and yank over a shirt large enough to come to your knees. The braids in your hair are frizzy, your bottom lip wet and chewed from your own vacillation.
A satisfied smile smears across your face as you re-balm your lips, Sukuna eyeing your incurious face as he yanks on his boxers and joggers. You lay flat on the bed, giving yourself a minute to bask in the recently-fucked high.
“Thanks.” You murmur to him as he pulls on a white shirt. Black ink teases through the sheen fabric, and you watch with an apathetic hunger.
“Sure.”
He’s grabbing his keys, and you’re walking him out the door. Sukuna looks at the socks you’re wearing, the same socks tracing up and down his lower back as your legs were wrapped around his torso; he entertains the idea of feeling it again.
“Bye! Drive safe.”
“See ya.”
You shut the door behind him, a giddy, exultant smile on your face as you trail back to your room so you can call your friends and tell them about how good you were just fucked. How hot he was. That is was Sukuna, that guy who knows and hangs out with Choso. But you’ll text him first.
drive safe! I had fun. Let me know if you wanna do it again. ଘ( ˊωˋ)†
He texts you ten minutes later, home.
the fuck is that?
#jujutsu kaisen#ryomen x reader#jjk ryomen#jjk x reader#ryomen sukuna#jujutsu kaisen ryomen#sukuna smut#sukuna x reader#jjk smut#jujustu kai#ryomen sukuna smut#sukuna x you#sukuna ryomen x reader#welp!#there she is#happy friday and happy mf new year#this is so self ship bc this was me lmfao#enjoy ladies and gents#my works
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Break Me Down - Part 14
Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader
Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.
Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…
💚 Break Me Down Masterlist
AN: Stick around at the end for a special note — new SB fic dropping soon!
Word Count: 6,000
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! We return to the smut! Plus a healthy dose of fluff, angst, action, moral quandaries, and feels.
Part 14: Safe House
Jon lied in his hospital bed, frowning hard at a computer screen. His arm and collarbone were broken, along with a few ribs. He had a private room, at least, courtesy of Vought.
Stan Edgar strode in following a quick knock on the door.
“Hello, Jonathan. I meant to visit you earlier,” said Stan. Jon stared at his boss, silently simmering. On his laptop played footage of the destruction wrought on the Lower West Side by a major car chase.
“How are you feeling?” Stan asked.
“Why was Black Noir set loose on my wife and daughters?” he seethed through gritted teeth. Damn how the effort of keeping still was almost as painful as moving.
“Ex-wife, isn’t it?” Stan said, raising a brow.
Jon was not amused.
“I gave the order, yes,” Stan acknowledged. “On your eldest daughter.”
Jon was incensed. If he could get out of this bed, he’d very well contemplate strangling the other man. Stan seemed to know it, but considering his personal security guards were standing near the back wall of the hospital room, he also didn’t look worried.
“Why?” Jon asked, genuinely surprised and dismayed. “She’s not a threat.”
“Soldier Boy kept her for a reason,” Stan pointed out. “She brought him to our doorstep, with the intention of helping him assassinate me…eliminating her was a calculated risk.”
Jon shook his head.
“But since Noir has failed, we will have to prepare accordingly,” Stan said.
Jon glared back at him. “You think I’m going to help you?”
“I think you have a job to do,” Stan returned. “It didn’t stop you from breaking your daughter’s ribs, and very nearly her neck.”
Jon faltered, a brief regret weighing his frown.
“That wasn’t…that was to teach her a lesson.”
Perhaps he’d gone a bit too far, but he’d only been trying to subdue you. To get you to listen to him. But you’d always been stubborn.
Stan broke him from his thoughts.
“I am not being attacked, Jon,” he said. “We are. Your daughter is a part of it.”
“Marie and Luisa are not. Leave them out of this!”
Stan merely rose a brow. He folded his hands behind his back and withdrew. He was flanked by his bodyguards as he left the room.
“Rest up, Jonathan,” he said. “I’ll need you soon enough.”
The master bed was actually pretty comfortable, as you and Ben found out.
You clung onto his shoulders after both of you were spent. You panted for breath as he held you to him with his solid arms wrapped around your waist. You two were both kneeling, technically, in the middle of the bed.
Your thighs were molded to his hips, and he was still buried deep inside you. But as of yet, you had no reason to move. You were enjoying your vantage point above him, watching him collect himself with closed eyes.
The simple truth of it was, you’d missed him.
Even when he was being a stubborn pain in the ass, you hated every moment you had to watch him caged, watching him start to think he may never get out.
Your hands slid around to his back. It allowed you to hold him in more of an embrace as you caught your breath.
When his eyes opened, you met him with a smile. You slipped your fingers through his sweaty hair. Holding your free hand at the nape of his neck, you pressed your lips above his brow. Then another kiss to his scratchy cheek. His beard had gotten overgrown.
“You need a trim,” you said, letting out a breathy laugh. You kissed his cheek again. Slow, and with purpose.
Ben let out a sigh through his nose. His eyes closed again at your gentler kisses, your touch. Maybe he reveled in this—being able to hold you back. It felt right.
If he was honest with himself (and this time, he was), you were somehow able to ease the frayed edges of his mind. Edges that had been starting to unravel in that cell.
And there were other things too, that he was beginning to realize, but not yet willing to cement in his mind.
So you reluctantly detangled from one another, but remained in bed. The problem was, for whatever closeness you two had just shared…you weren’t quite sure what to do now.
You hesitated to ask him just what the two of you were doing. Mostly because you didn’t want to ruin whatever this was by labeling it.
So instead, you relaxed against his chest and pulled the blankets over you both. Ben didn’t just tolerate it; he settled a heavy arm across your lower back and over your hip. It made you smile.
“Ben…what do you want from the rest of your life?” you asked.
You didn’t know what possessed you to ask, but you had to wonder what the end goal was for him, after the issue of Vought was settled. After he presumably kept his end of the deal and retired to South America, or Europe, or wherever he wanted to go, really.
His hand came up to pet your hair. “I just got some of it.”
You huffed a laugh, hiding your face into his chest for a moment. You couldn’t see it, but Ben grinned at how easy it was to embarrass you, for how wanton he knew you could be.
“Come on, seriously,” you said.
“Seriously?” he teased.
“Yes,” you said, despite a giggle.
He let out something of a sigh. Meanwhile, his hand drew lazy patterns up and down your naked back.
“I always thought I had time,” he confessed. “To settle down. Have a family…I actually thought it would be Tess.”
That thought was accompanied by a bitter chuckle. Your brows furrowed in question.
“Crimson Countess,” he explained.
“Ah.” You nodded and rested a hand across his lower abs, playing with the thin trail of hair there that led south. He found it strangely soothing, if a hint arousing.
“Was it difficult killing Homelander?” you asked.
Ben scoffed. “Just chock full of questions tonight, aren’t you?”
You sat up and propped an elbow on his shoulder, so he had to look at you.
“Not physically. Emotionally,” you said. God forbid you ask him about his man feelings, but you really were curious.
Ben eyed you with a raised brow.
“I know he wasn’t really your son,” you said. “He was a raging psychopath and needed to go down, but was there a part of you that…was it hard for you?”
Ben’s mood dimmed as his lips pulled into a frown. “He was a true disappointment. Barely a man.”
That didn’t quite answer your question, but you thought you could read some of his true feelings on the matter. You didn’t think he regretted killing Homelander. But maybe he mourned the connection he could’ve had with a son. From what he’d said about Crimson Countess, you knew he wanted a real family.
That softened you. You brushed a lock of hair away from his eyes with delicate fingers.
“He was told he was a god his entire life. That’s what happens,” you said.
Ben scoffed at that, his gaze cutting away from you. You didn’t know what that meant exactly.
“And you?” he asked, turning back to you. “What do you want from all this?”
“Besides my family safe?” you retorted. But then, you considered his words. “I don’t know. I thought I knew who I was before I met you. Now I’m realizing that I can’t control anything in my life.”
Ben raised your chin, and therefore your face up to him.
“You can control you. You’ve been doing that since I met you.” His thumb swiped against your lower lip. “Especially this fucking mouth.”
You smiled. “But you like that though.”
His lips pulled at amusement, huffing in response.
“Come on,” you teased. You moved, slipping a leg over to straddle his lap. You delved into his hair with both hands, and he let you tug his head back as he now looked up at you.
“Admit it,” you said cheekily. “You like my mouth. Talking back to you…on you…and getting you off.”
All while you spoke, you brushed your lips across his cheek, down his jawline, pressed a nipping kiss along his neck, below his ear. Then you returned to his lips. But you also ground down into his lap, feeling his rising length brush against your wet folds.
He groaned deep as you plied him the way you’d learned to do. And your tongue slipped into his mouth with your next kiss. He gripped your hips tight, wordlessly urging you to lower down into his lap and onto his waiting cock. But you resisted.
“Say it,” you demanded.
When he merely smirked, denying you control, you lowered a hand to take a firm hold of his cock. He let out a low hum of pleasure as you pumped him a couple of times, then held him poised at your entrance.
“I’ll give you what you want,” you said, brushing his lips. “But first, tell me how much you missed this.”
His next breath came out sharp as you squeezed his cock in your hand. You knew you’d find his fingerprints on your hips and ass in the morning, but you didn’t care. Because you were about to fucking win.
“Fine,” he said, through clenched teeth. “Maybe I’ve been craving this, more than a fix. More than goddamn sleep.”
Ben’s eyes were dark with lust, and he thumbed at your lower lip.
“And this fucking mouth. Gets you into all kinds of trouble, baby doll.”
You smirked and finally sunk on top of him. His cock slid past your folds and bottomed out inside of you, making you shudder and Ben groan in relief.
You did exactly as you promised. With your hands braced on his shoulders, you moved over him nice and slow.
Well, nice for you. Torturous for him.
He cast his head back to the headboard as he fought not to make you move.
“You’re fuckin’ killing me here,” he growled.
Your mouth curved into a grin.
“Alert the media,” you said. “We’ve got the ultimate weapon against Soldier Boy: a slow ride on his dick.”
Ben’s rich laugh rumbled out, crinkling his eyes at the corners and making you smile. You felt the impact of his laughter deep inside you, which wasn’t unpleasant. But you had mercy on him and finally picked up the pace. He grabbed a fistful of your hair for leverage while your lovely tits bounced in his face.
Then his fingers slid between you, parting your folds to rub at your clit. It made your hips stutter as you let out a mangled moan. Your inner walls started to tighten around him, earning you another muttered curse. He couldn’t help but thrust up inside you, mostly in time with your movements.
But he got impatient.
He grabbed your hips tighter and flipped you over, with your thighs wrapped around his hips.
“The moment I saw you, I knew I’d have you,” he gritted out. “Fuck, just like this.”
You gasped as he pounded deeper inside you. You felt like the bed was going to swallow you up. But you pressed your heels into his lower back and held on for the rest of the ride.
Within moments, Ben spilled into you so hard and fast that it took both of you by surprise. It felt hot and tingling inside you, making you shudder again.
Thank God for IUDs, you thought.
And when his fingers found your clit again in time with his last wild thrusts, it was enough to tumble you over along with him.
Afterwards, Ben braced himself on the headboard as a line of sweat dripped down the column of his neck. You grabbed onto his free hand while you caught your breath. His lips tugged at a smirk, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand.
“And we’re not done,” he said. “Not by a long shot.”
Ben woke to the annoying sound of coffee percolating. A normal man would have slept right through it, but thanks to his sensitive ears, he was up at…
Christ, it’s 11 in the morning. He noted the digital clock on the nightstand and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He actually slept all night. And all morning.
Up until recently, that had been impossible.
He heard puttering in the kitchen, knew it was you because of your soft humming. It drew a smile to his face without him realizing.
He climbed out of bed, showered, shaved and trimmed off the wilder parts of his beard, and dressed casually with the clothing he found in the closet. Wasn’t a perfect fit, but it would do for now.
This house was also not what he was used to. It was small, and too “suburban dad” for his taste. But he guessed it was better than an underground glass prison cell.
He ventured into the kitchen, where the smell of good food made his mouth water, and the sight of you frying bacon (trying not to get burned by the sparking grease) deepened his grin.
All you wore was his discarded shirt from yesterday, presumably over your underwear as it hung around your thighs, and a pair of slippers you must’ve found in the closet.
Maybe you heard him coming, because you glanced back over your shoulder and met him with a smile. But it soon edged into a more serious look as you turned and leveled him with your spatula.
“Okay. I don’t want any smartass remarks,” you warned. “I did make breakfast, because I’m a nice person, but don’t expect this for every meal.”
Ben raised a wry brow.
“Morning to you too,” he drawled. He rested a hand on your lower back as he looked over your shoulder, surveying the plate of cooling bacon, the pan of scrambled eggs, and the toast ready to be buttered on the counter, next to a jar of strawberry jam. “Looks good.”
You watched him steal a piece of bacon, your lips quirking.
“Is that a thank you?” you asked.
He purposefully bit into the bacon instead of answering. You gave him a narrowed look, but you were still amused.
“Even a child can say please and thank you,” you pointed out.
Ben turned to you then and hooked an arm around your waist, suddenly pulling you tight against him.
“All right. How about this?” he replied. His head bowed and kissed you thoroughly. He tasted coffee and jam on your tongue. A surprised moan caught in your throat, and you clung to his arms on instinct. Meanwhile, his other hand went to your hip, bunching the material of the stolen shirt.
When he broke from you, he looked down on your somewhat dazed expression and had to temper his smile. He gave you a nice slap on the ass, shocking a yelp out of you.
You shot him a dry look.
“Is that please, or thank you?” you teased.
Ben rolled his eyes and kissed you again, trapping you against the counter this time. But he didn’t allow himself to get carried away (yet). He swept back strands of your hair and let his fingers skim across your cheek, feeling your skin warming under his touch.
He finally settled on brushing his thumb across your bottom lip, meeting your eyes.
“Thank you,” he said.
It had a deeper meaning, you realized from the gravity of his gaze.
“That fucking bitch probably wanted to put me on ice the second they brought me in,” he said.
You could only assume he meant Grace.
“You’re probably the reason that didn’t happen,” he continued. “And that I’m here now.”
Emotion threatened to choke you, beginning to sting your eyes. You cleared your throat and soothed a hand along his forearm.
“You made the deal,” you pointed out. Ben shook his head.
“You were right. I want the fucking target off my back, once and for all,” he said. He touched where a smattering of bruises from the car accident colored your temple and part of your cheek with fading purple and yellow.
“But I’m getting it off you too," he said gruffly. "You want a deal? Here it is: no one’s fucking touching you again as long as I’m around.”
Your breath hitched as your heart began to hammer in your chest. You wanted to ask what that meant. You wanted to ask if, maybe, he wanted to be with you. If he…
But you lost your nerve.
“The eggs are gonna get cold,” you said in a coarse whisper.
Ben smirked.
“That’s really what you’re fucking worried about?” he asked, shortly before he cut off your would-be reply with a heated kiss.
Your arms twined around his neck, almost of their own volition. He already had you by the waist, and from there he hefted you effortlessly onto a small clean portion of counter space in the kitchen. His hands burned up your thighs, underneath the overlarge shirt. When he encountered nothing but bare ass, his lips curved against yours.
“What a naughty girl. You’re out here cooking with no fucking panties on?”
It was your turn to smirk as you held a hand to his cheek. He did in fact trim the beard.
“You like that, don’t you?” you remarked.
His dark chuckle was your answer as he spread your thighs wider. Your breath came out a bit shakier as his hand went smoothly up the inside of your thigh and slipped between your folds.
“Already wet for me, I see,” he said. His smirk only grew as you whined with pleasure at the invasion of his fingers. First just teasing inside your entrance, working you up. Your grip on his neck tightened, your nails digging into his shoulders.
“Ben…”
“How many fucking times I gotta tell you to be patient?”
“Ugh.” You dropped your forehead into the crook of his neck. “You are the worst.”
His resulting chuckle reverberated in your chest and tingled down into your lower belly. Combined with his teasing, it made your inner walls tighten on nothing from anticipation…until two of his fingers suddenly sunk deep into your heat. You cried out into his ear in surprise.
“Ben,” you breathed, but it ended on a moan as he finally began to give you what you wanted. His thumb found your clit and circled slowly while he thrust and turned his fingers inside you. You gripped at his hair, holding on tighter and tighter as your walls clenched on his hand.
“That’s it, baby doll. I gotcha,” he muttered. Though you teased a grunt out of him when you snaked a hand between you to palm at the bulge in his jeans. If he was going to give you a good morning, you’d be sure to return the favor.
He kept working on you, but with shaking hands you unzipped his pants and aimed to free him from those tight boxer briefs.
Unfortunately, your cell phone ringing halted both of your plans. It was on the kitchen counter, and it vibrated across the tile next to you.
Butcher calling…
Both of your heavy breathing accompanied the shrill sound. But when you noticed the caller ID, you gave Ben a rueful look.
He frowned in annoyance, but he withdrew from you, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel before he grabbed your phone and answered it (even if it took him two or three angry tries on swiping the green button). You put it on speaker.
“What?” Ben grouched into the phone.
“Apologies for interrupting what I’m sure is a dewy morning after,” Butcher said with all due sarcasm. “We’ve got a lead on Neuman.”
You raised a brow at that. Tugging down your shirt back over your thighs, you answered, “Where is she?”
“She’s giving a speech at NYU this afternoon.”
You frowned. You knew for a fact he hadn’t run that by the whole team.
“It’s not a good idea to catch her there. Too exposed. Too many people could get caught in the crossfire,” you said.
“Her next scheduled outing is a fundraiser for the homeless. That any better?” Butcher asked with mock cheer. “At the least the college kiddos won’t be coughing up a lung because their hepatitis A’s on a flare up.”
Ben’s lips twitched at amusement, but your frown only deepened in irritation.
“You’re unsavory, you know that?” you said, rubbing at your temple. “…Fine. We’ll catch her at the college.”
“Wasn’t really up for fuckin’ debate,” Butcher replied. “We head out in two hours.”
This isn’t going to be easy, you thought.
You were teamed up with M.M., Annie, and Hughie on surveillance, sitting in Frenchie’s van on one of the side streets outside the auditorium where Victoria Neuman was giving her speech.
Kimiko and Frenchie had formed a perimeter with Butcher on the campus. After the speech came to a close, Butcher, M.M., and Frenchie had worked out where Victoria would likely be escorted out to get back to her limo.
But you forced yourself to take deep breaths. You watched the various camera angles you and M.M. had been able to hook up to the monitors inside the van. On one of the screens was Ben in his full Soldier Boy gear, sans helmet, waiting for his cue.
You felt M.M. glancing at you, and you met his stare. His expression was tight, but mostly stoic. Still, you had a feeling you knew what he was thinking.
“He can do this,” you said.
M.M. shook his head and faced the screens. “You think you can fucking change him.”
“No,” you said. “But he just might surprise you.”
You weren’t trying to change him, nor were you trying to free yourself anymore. He’d caught you, in more ways than one.
Now, you were just trying to help him. And maybe, help yourself.
“I don’t give a fuck,” M.M. bit out. Annie and Hughie glanced at both of you in thinly veiled concern. You just quirked a humorless smile.
“I think you do,” you replied.
“All right, look alive,” Butcher said on the comm. Victoria’s speech was over. She was shepherded off the stage by her bodyguards while the president of NYU got up to make closing remarks.
She got as far as the hallway leading to the back door of the auditorium before Frenchie and Butcher sniped out her guards. You watched Victoria gasp and flinch at the bullets flying all too close to her. She looked around sharply, but finding no one there, she made a run for the exit.
That was when Ben ambushed her from the side, grabbing her from behind and shoving her through the door of the next room before she could aim her gaze at any part of him.
Ben stalked in after her. You adjusted the camera monitors to connect to the science lab they’d burst into. Every muscle in your body tensed as you watched.
Meanwhile, Ben was wary but not afraid as he kept his shield in front of his face. Victoria raised a hand to a her now bruised arm, but she scrambled in her navy pencil dress and heels to pick herself up.
She looked up at the supe striding toward her, taking in his head protecting his upper body. So she focused her gaze on his right thigh, making him falter as her power made her eyes roll into her head and blast at his suit.
The skin underneath was durable though. It felt like a nasty sunburn, one that Ben could ignore. He approached until he could grab her by the hair and turn her face away from him. She cried out, clawing back at his hand.
He placed his shield onto the holster on his back and got a hold on the back of her neck. He forced her onto her knees while he made her keep looking at the ground.
“Soldier Boy,” she panted. “Haven’t had the pleasure.”
“Cut the fucking chit-chat. Where the fuck is Stan, that dick tease?”
He was about to start squeezing his grip, when he was suddenly thrown into the far wall. He fell into a mess of student desks, beakers, and various scientific instruments.
“Zoe!” he heard Victoria shout. Apparently the woman’s daughter was a supe too. A telekinetic, by the looks of it.
With an angry growl, he picked himself up and shook off the glass from his shoulders. By the time he looked up, Victoria was ushering her daughter out the opposite door.
Ben ran after them, following them into what seemed to be another classroom. This one was full of students busy taking a test, and a professor grading a large stack of papers. Ben zipped through and ignored the gasps and shocked faces, along with a couple of kids that recognized him and immediately took out their phones.
He also didn’t care that his elbow knocked the stack of papers to the ground (to the professor’s outrage).
He bulldozed his way into another empty classroom, where he threw his shield at Victoria’s back. With a cry, she tripped and fell into a desk, and was separated from her daughter.
“Mom!” Zoe cried and reached out for her, but Victoria raised a frantic hand.
“Stay there!” she shouted back at her. Her attention focused back on Ben.
She razed at his face and chest with her powers. Ben winced as heat flared across his skin, blistering to the point of second-degree burns on his arm after protecting his face. He strode forward and grabbed her again, this time with a thumb pressing over one eye.
“You wanna keep your fucking eyes, or you want to tell me where your father is?” he demanded.
“No!” Zoe shouted. She raised her hands, and a violet glow of energy spread between them. Ben picked up his shield, ready to use it as a projectile against the girl.
Until your voice sounded in the comm in his ear.
“Go easy, Ben. She’s not the target,” you warned. He hesitated, his lips twisting in annoyance.
“Zoe,” Victoria warned. His thumb still pressed threateningly against one of her eyes. The other looked up at him, defiant. But her lower lip was trembling.
“You really want your daughter to be a part of this?” Ben asked darkly.
You were on pins and needles. While you watched the screen, M.M. glanced at you.
“We need to do something,” Annie said. She had been antsy the entire time, and when Hughie tried to grab her shoulder, she shrugged him off.
“We can’t extract the girl without Neuman seeing us,” you said. But you weren’t happy about it.
Annie gave you an incredulous look. “So you’re okay with that psycho killing a little girl?”
“Of course not, Annie!” you snapped. “But this is the reality of catching criminals. They rarely go down by themselves.”
She frowned angrily at you.
“That sounds like an excuse for murder,” she said.
There was a tense moment, in which you and Annie stared back at one another. You eventually relented.
“Okay, go. But stay on standby with Kimiko and Frenchie. They’re outside the classroom, 112B,” you told her. She and Hughie raced out, and you let out a breath while you turned back to the tense scene in front of you.
“Look, I don’t know where he is,” Victoria said. “We haven’t exactly been on speaking terms.”
“Then get him on the fucking phone,” Ben snapped.
A tear streamed down her eye, the one that briefly closed, then looked up at him.
“He’s not a bad man,” she said. “Not…entirely.”
Ben snorted in response. “Well, aside from trying to replace me with a bullshit knockoff, shipping me off to motherfucking Siberia. He stole from me. My life. And the bitch of the whole bunch, tried to kill me with a fucking clone, with the help of my own DNA. So excuse me if I’m past the fucking point of forgive and forget.”
“Fine! Fine,” she said, when he started squeezing in earnest. “Let my daughter go, and I’ll help you.”
Ben glanced up at the girl. She was frightened, with her glowing hands still poised to try and take him out. He still had half a mind to knock her out first.
“She’s just a kid, Ben. Let her go,” you said in his ear.
After another tense moment, Ben nodded.
Annie burst into the classroom, followed by Butcher, Frenchie, and Kimiko. Annie reached Zoe with a gentle hand on her shoulder, and she shared a look with Victoria.
“She’ll be okay,” Annie told Victoria, who nodded as more tears slipped down her cheeks. Ben held her firm by the shoulders when Butcher came with a device, no doubt provided by the CIA. It looked like a large metal band that clicked into place around Victoria’s head, covering her eyes.
Kimiko and Frenchie led her out, while Annie and Hughie did the same for Zoe. Butcher shared an appraising look with Ben, who stared back at him coolly.
Meanwhile, you let out a deep breath. You sat back in your seat and ignored the way M.M. gave you some cursory side-eye.
Thank Christ that’s over.
Back at Supe Affairs, Victoria gave them addresses to her adoptive father’s known safehouses. Not because they expected to find him there, but because they might find even more material to leverage against him before they attempted to arrest the man.
While Butcher and the rest of the team ran down the leads, you and Annie made sure Victoria’s daughter Zoe was put in protective custody, again, with Grace’s help.
Afterwards, Ben was waiting for you in the car that would bring you both back to the safe house. You rode there in silence.
When you got inside the house and made your way to the bedroom, Ben followed you. It seemed he couldn’t help himself. His arms were crossed, and his face was tight. You waited on him to speak as you started rummaging in the dresser for a shirt and pair of jeans to change into after a shower.
“I don’t need you yapping in my ear when I’m trying to get shit done,” he said.
You paused in your search, and you turned to him, raising an incredulous brow.
“I wasn’t sure if you were going to stick to the plan. Targeted kills only, remember? Zoe wasn’t the target.”
His frown soured. “She hit me first.”
You stared back at him. Then you raised your eyes heavenward, praying for strength. And you let out a breath.
“She was trying to help her mother, Ben.”
“If you’re grown enough to throw a punch, you’re grown enough to take one,” he argued.
“You’ve never hit me once,” you pointed out. “Is it different because she’s a supe? Were you really going to kill a child?”
“I never said that,” he said, glaring at you.
“Would you have killed Ryan too?” you asked.
Ben expelled a sigh of exasperation. “Would you shut up already?”
“No,” you refused. And you followed him into the living room when he stormed out. “You’re not going to weasel your way out of this. Would you have killed Ryan?”
“I don’t know,” he snapped. “He was Homelander’s fucking kid.”
“And that makes it all right?”
“Yeah, are you gonna say that in a few years? If he turns out just like Homelander, are you going to come crying to me to take him out?”
You glared at him. He was making a valid point you couldn’t refute, but that didn’t change what he was trying to do.
“You’re unbelievable.” You shook your head and crossed your arms. “You’re actually justifying this.”
“Whether you want to admit it or not, a supe is a supe,” Ben said, raising a finger. “No matter how old they are, they’re a threat.”
“It doesn’t mean a child shouldn’t be protected, Soldier Boy,” you countered. “A life is a life.”
“Hey, if you want to be sanctimonious, good for fucking you,” he shot back. “But don’t tell me how to do my fucking job.”
“I’m asking you to keep your word,” you said. “For both of our sakes.”
That managed to shut him up. With a sigh, you tried to ease up by taking his hand with both of yours, holding it with care. His glove was busted, the skin underneath was red and raw. He allowed it, but he still looked down on you with reserved irritation.
You knew you didn’t have to remind him what breaking Grace’s agreement would mean, for both of you.
“Just follow the plan,” you implored. “Targeted kills only. No collateral damage.”
After Ben came out of the shower, he went into the bedroom to change with a towel wrapped around his waist.
You were already cleaned up, a messy bun atop your head, wearing a plain shirt and some shorts, and sitting up in the bed with your new laptop. But you subtly watched him move around the room.
You noticed the burns across his chest. You were still irritated with him, but you couldn’t help it. You set your laptop aside and went to him.
Ben saw you coming through the large mirror above the dresser. His head turned to you just as you raised a tentative hand near the burns across his chest.
“Does it hurt?” you asked with furrowed brows. Your fingertips were light in touching his chest.
It did sting, but it wasn’t that bad.
Still, all Ben said was, “No. They’ll probably be gone in a few hours anyway.”
Your lower lip stuck out a little, like you didn’t quite believe him as you inspected the various burns.
Ben eyed you. He still couldn’t fucking figure you out.
He knew you were into him…and evidently, you cared about him.
Still, you fought him on virtually everything. There were times when you seemed almost disgusted by him, but when he fucked you, you acted like he was the eighth wonder of the world.
Even now, that perfect damn mouth of yours was frowning while your fingers moved delicately over his skin.
“You want some aloe vera?” you asked.
He knew by your face that you were completely sincere. It made him chuckle. You looked up at him in confusion.
“What’s so funny?”
Not unlike this morning, he picked you up (smirking at your squeal) and set you down on the dresser. His hands rested on your hips while yours laid gently on a non-burnt area of his chest.
“For someone as breakable as you, you seem to be real concerned about me,” he said. “...You’re really not afraid of me, are you?”
Your fingertips ran down his skin, unintentionally raising goosebumps. Though you considered his question with a tilt of your head.
“Why, are you going to break me?” you teased.
Ben huffed in amusement. His lips drew near yours, hovering but not yet claiming. He wanted you to come to him this time. Wanted you to let him know if this thing, whatever it was between you two, was heading where he thought it was…
And you didn’t disappoint him.
You reached out and framed his face with both hands, and pulled him into a kiss. For once, neither of you were in a hurry as one languid kiss turned into another.
Your tongue slipped into his mouth, and he welcomed you with a deep, reverberating hum, along with your thighs slipping around his hips. He took a firm grip of you there, while your fingers carded through his hair.
“Still not tired of this?” you whispered against his lips.
He backed off enough to look at you. Really look at you. His brown hair fell above his brows, and as was your habit, you swept some of it out of his eyes.
You read his answer there without him having to say it in words.
So you pulled him back in.
AN: 😏 Was their reunion everything you wanted it to be? Let me know in the comments!
(And do you wanna know where we're going next?)
Next Time:
“Good morning,” Stan greeted, raising his mug. “Care for a cup? Perhaps a donut.”
“Still fucking smarmy,” Ben said. He stood in front of the man’s desk, flexing his half-gloved fingers. He glanced up at the walls of this office, this tower in the sky. “We’ve been doing this dance for a long time, you and I.”
“And yet, on entirely different tempos,” Stan replied. “How can I help you, Soldier Boy?”
Keep Reading: PART 15
Special Note:
I'm releasing a new one-shot soon, set in this story-verse called "Love Actually." It's part of @deanwinchesterswitch's Christmas in July fic event running this month!
Go here to check it out and participate (as a writer/artist or a reader)!
Soldier Boy Masterlist
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Series Tag List:
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#Safe House#soldier boy#the boys#soldier boy/ben#soldier boy x female reader#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy x you#the boys season 3#soldier boy/ben x reader#the boys au#enemies to lovers#frenemies to lovers#private investigator!reader#the boys amazon#soldier boy smut#break me down#Part 14#zepskies writes
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hey mio! Hopefully ur less burnt out! Could I maybe get some head cannons with vox, velvette, and mayhaps gn reader(yes I'm replacing that bitch Valentino) ? Maybe them having a movie night and arguing over what movie to watch, what snacks they all have, them all snuggled up on the couch!! Just some fluffy stuff, luv ya mio!!
-🎺 anon
hello 🎺 anon!! this actually inspired me quite a bit, so i’mma be bold and do a few scenarios!!
this was so fun and cute so i hope you enjoy!!
Warnings: Profanity, use of Y/N
“Maybe Rom-Coms Do Come True…”
Vox x Reader x Velvette
You come into the lounge, setting the tray of snacks down on the small table infront of the T.V., your boyfriend and girlfriend already saving a spot between them just for you, smiles on both of their faces, and you couldn’t help but notice how cute they both looked.
Velvette had a matching pink and black P.J. set on, a buttoned short-sleeved shirt, and shorts, with matching slipper with bows on them.
Whilst Vox has just gotten out of work, he was in half-work clothes, half-casual clothes, he still had his dress pants on, but he sported one of VoxTech’s new hoodies.
“Soo…” Vox mumbles under his breath as he fiddled with the remote. “What are we watching tonight?” He asks, turning to both of his partners, his eyes scanning them for an answer.
Velvette’s eyes light up immediately, “We should watch a Rom-Com!”
Vox’s screen rolls back, as he let out a groan, “We watched one last week!” He complained.
“Actually, bitch, you’re wrong! We watched one last time I picked!” Velvette corrected, crossing her arms, leaning forward to get a better look at her boyfriend while she spoke.
“Which was three weeks agooooo! That’s basically the same thing!!” Vox groaned once more, “Let Y/N pick this time! They have better taste than you anyway!”
Velvette jokingly scoffs, putting a hand to her heart, “Well at least I don’t play the same, dumb traffic-light, high school broadway musical!” Velvette retorts.
“Well I’d rather watch that every week than ‘Dance Moms’ or that stupid mafia romance!” Vox argues back.
“‘Heathers’ is a blessing to the musical world, don’t you dare, Velvette!”
“Exactly what I’m saying!”
“Vox you don’t even know anything about ‘Heathers’…” Velvette rolled her eyes.
“So what?!”
Eventually, you guys settled on a Rom-Com, against Vox’s better judgement.
Honestly, you were pretty neutral about Rom-Coms, but tonight was very enjoyable for you.
Between Velvette’s screams about why the protagonist and love interest haven’t kissed yet, or when Vox would boo and throw popcorn at the T.V when something would happened that he didn’t like, it was very entertaining to watch your lovers get so invested into something.
As the movie went on, you and Velvette began to notice that maybe, just maybe, Vox was enjoying the movie after all…
Through all the screams, laughter, and tears of the movie, it really was the best movie night yet, maybe Velvette did have good taste.
But once the love interest and protagonist do kiss, you’re surprised there’s no screams… No screams from Velvette… No screams from Vox…
Your head turns, you notices the limp grip Velvette’s hand has on yours, and you notice that your girlfriend is curled up against Vox’s side, and Vox has a lip arm around you both.
And the only thing you can do, is smile.
Maybe Rom-Coms do come true…
#hazbin hotel#mio’s writing ! ☆#hazbin hotel x reader#x reader#hazbin hotel x y/n#hazbin hotel x you#x y/n#x you#fanfiction#🎺 anon#velvette headcanons#velvette hazbin#hazbin hotel velvette#hazbin velvette#velvette x reader#velvette x you#vox x velvette#vox x reader#vox hazbin#vox hazbin hotel#hazbin vox#hazbin hotel vox#vox#vox x y/n#vox x you#velvette x vox#vox x reader x velvette#velvette x reader x vox
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Starlight
Astarion X F!Reader
WC: 680
Tags: Fluff, Blood drinking, Sex-mention (Nothing happens though), 18+ MDNI, I think that is it?
Summary: Astarion cuddles and feeds, it is super fluffy! and self-indulgent.
A/N: Hello! This is my first ever fic that I have written for bg3, so please bear with me if there is any OOC-ness. Feedback is welcomed, be back soon!
Masterlist (only a couple right now but it shall soon grow)
AO3 Link for those who prefer AO3:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/57941980
The rush of heat flushed on your cheeks. You could feel your chest tighten slightly as you continued to kiss him. Astarion pulled back slightly as he could feel how warm your face had become under his hand he had been caressing your cheek with,“Oh my sweet girl, you are always so warm for me.” The look of adoration brought his eyes into a smile with those lovely little crinkles subtly springing up under those rubies. His lips pulled into a soft grin. You giggled at the sight, “And you are always ready to use that to your advantage, my dearest elf”. It had become somewhat apparent when he would sneak into your tent most nights, just to tangle up with you in your bedroll.
“My darling it is not that I am using it to my advantage, but that I enjoy it when those cute cheeks of yours blush crimson for me. Reminds me of… other things.” Astarion leaned into the crook of your neck, smelling deeply at the blood that flowed freely underneath your skin. You shivered slightly from the tickle of air as he breathed you in. “You can, if you want,” you whispered to his ear, rubbing a hand on his upper back, the other lazily playing with the silver curls at the nape of his neck.
The two of you were laying down in your tent, it was so late you had only the moon’s glow lightly lighting up your tent. You felt Astarions ear twitch slightly and it tickled your cheek as the tip swiveled along your upper jaw. “Hmmm” you could hear Astarion hum as he began to pepper kisses along your neck, trying to find just the right spot. Once he did, he whispered softly, “Stay still okay, love?” You hummed in response as you continued to rub his back.
He had gotten much better at learning how to bite you without causing you too much pain. You could feel his fangs quickly, yet gently pierce your neck as a slight icy sensation was felt along that side of your neck. You closed your eyes and focused on rubbing his back and making sure to check in with him. “I'm here with you. It is only us, we are safe.” You had learned at some point that he liked to be talked to during his feedings. Nothing in particular, just sweet reminders and being told that he was safe. You could feel him swallow slowly, mouthful after mouthful as you breathed slowly in and out, moving your chest as you breathed to help him stay in the moment.
He was so grateful of you helping him to make the feedings less sexually charged. The first few weeks of him feeding, it always ended up with carnal pleasure between you two. Which while nice, made the both of you feel that feeding was still somewhat transactional. Learning how to be in the moment with you helped both him and you immensely to keep feeding sessions as just feeding sessions. Most of the time anyways, sometimes you two just cannot keep your hands off of each other. But it is different now, knowing you can have a feeding session where it doesn’t end up with sex makes it so much more satisfying when it does end up with sex.
You could feel the slight chill set in and your head began to feel a bit light. “Starri, it's time.” Astarion swallowed the last mouthful that was in his mouth and slowly removed himself from your neck, lightly licking at the wounds. You could feel him begin to warm up as he finally pressed his cheek against yours as he breathed in, calming himself and letting his mind find his words again. “You are always so good to me, my love,” he whispered as he pulled away finally to look into your eyes. This time it was your turn to smile with crinkly eyes at him and leaned into a small peck on his lips, smiling against them. “Because you deserve it, my starlight.”
#astarion x reader#astarion fluff#Astarion#baldur's gate 3#bg3 astarion#bg3 fic#bg3 fanfiction#astarion x female reader#baldur's gate iii
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Ah yes. I've come to inquire about a certain blond fellow with the pretty eyes. Aventurine
So here's my bit. Reader is going through a break up with Aventurine and then they make up. I'm writing this while attention (females perspective)is playing in my mind. Maybe you could like incorporate it into the ask. Because I'm thinking in a way that the reader is trying to get Aventurines attention whilst keeping him at a distance. Sor of cat and mouse. And he's buying into it though he's much prefer without the sneakiness.
Also I hope this asks finds you in good spirits and a joyful mood. Caio.
Okay, okay- I have no clue what attention is. A song? I’m not good at this game help-
Anyways I will try my best.
Thank you sm for the ask. 🫶
I really do love this twinky little blond man and I’m happy to be writing about him.
It’s like two in the morning rn and I’m rambling here to distract myself from things. ANY!!! WAYS!!!
No gender is mentioned for the reader.
CW: exactly one (1) 2.1 spoiler (Aventurine’s real name- It’s at the very end), break up-make up time, mild angst bc ofc there is it’s Aventurine, hurt/comfort, happy ending hehe 🫶
Writing under the cut (SFW):
You couldn’t help but smile as you saw a certain someone’s nickname flashing across your screen. Right on time.
Though you supposed he knew what you were doing. After all, Aventurine is smart. Even if he didn’t realize it right away, he had to know by now.
You picked up the phone.
“Well hello, stranger. To what do I owe the honor?” It was hard to keep the sly lilt and inflection out of your voice when you knew he was definitely gripping his phone tightly on the other end of the line.
“I’m sure you know, dear. You’re slick but not that slick. You’ll have to do better than that to outplay me,” Aventurine said, his voice still fixed in that unhurried cadence and unbothered tone like usual despite the situation.
You rested your cheek on a hand and leaned back in your seat with a smile. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. In any case, it’s a bit odd of you to call me. After all, we did break up. You remember that, I’m sure.”
You could practically hear the leather of his gloves crunching (is it crunching I forgot-) as he clenched a fist, keeping hold of his restraint.
The two of you had been dancing around each other like cat and mouse. Though at this point, who was the cat and who was the mouse was anyone’s guess.
Despite having gotten to the point of breaking up, you ended up missing him a lot. And thus you began the dance only to find his hand already waiting for you. It was unspoken that you both wanted the same thing. But every time he drew closer, you’d pull back. A frustrating back and forth that seemed to confuse him. Aventurine was sure you wanted him back. And yet you never let the cat finally catch his prey. Why? He didn’t get it.
“Oh sweetheart- Let’s not keep pretending, yes? I know you’ve been trying to catch my attention. You can’t hide your intentions.”
“Seems it’s working, then.”
It was true. You had been doing things to keep Aventurine’s eyes on you. Despite playing a game of keep away with him with how you’d draw him in and push him away, you didn’t want him looking at anyone else. At the same time, you weren’t sure if you’d truly be willing to get together again. What if the train went off the tracks again? The first time had been rough enough with the two of you waging a passive aggressive war and pointedly ignoring each other at some points.
And thus, this odd little game of yours. One that Aventurine was growing tired of it he had finally called you.
“Let’s talk in person, shall we?” “What-?”
A knock at the door. No fucking way- You opened the door to see your favorite the blond man himself.
“Hiya, darling dearest~”
“Aventurine.”
“No need to be like that. I was serious about that talk.” He then pulled a bouquet of your favorite flowers out from behind his back. “For you,” Aventurine said with that stupid charming smirk of his. You squinted at him for a moment before accepting the flowers with a huff and a faux annoyed, “Fine.”
You were a bit conflicted. You were excited that he was here. Especially because he seemed desperate enough to actually seek you out and talk to you in person. But at the same time this was not something you calculated or expected to happen.
“I know you’re glad to see me. You don’t have to pretend,” he practically purred as you shot a glare over your shoulder, still keeping up appearances. “Oh but of course- I’m absolutely just tickled pink.”
Aventurine chuckled, tipping his head down to look at you over his shades, lids low and eyes practically glowing. “You always did have a way with words, sweetheart.”
He then took off the sunglasses (and oh that was another stupid, dorky little thing about him you found oddly endearing- shades inside a building- stupid silly adorable man-) and plopped down on your couch while you put the flowers down on the counter in the kitchen. You’d deal with them later. For now you had him to deal with. You sat in the chair instead of the couch. He pouted playfully about it, but didn’t comment. “I’ll cut to the chase- I want you back. And I know you want me back, too. I just can’t figure out why you’re leading me closer and then shoving me away. I’m starting to get the feeling you just like my attention. But even so- We both know the truth. So why don’t you just give in, lovely? I know you want to,” he said, surprisingly not using the old song and dance of leading someone around to get the information he wanted. He didn’t talk in circles and didn’t even seem all that flirty despite his words. He was… oddly serious.
“And what about the reason we broke up before?” You didn’t even try to pretend anymore. Aventurine has always been able to see right through you. That ability had clearly not gone anywhere. “I can’t make promises, but we can talk. We’ll work something out. I’ll even compromise on it.” Compromise was not an Aventurine word. Any deals he made were made in his favor without the other person even knowing what they were going to lose. Your incredulity must have been showing on your face more than you thought because he laughed lightly, the sound somehow dry- tired and heavy. “I see that look. I’m serious, baby. I’m sorry I ever let you go. You’re the only one who stayed. The only one who has stuck around. I need you. I’ll give it all to you. My attention, my trust, my… my heart, even. You don’t have to play these games to make me want you.”
Now you feel a bit guilty. But at the same time, elated. Even before you broke up, he never once brought up matters of trust and love. He seemed far too uncomfortable even edging around the topic. But now Aventurine was the first one to bring it up.
You said nothing but silently stood. And his eyes dimmed, waiting for disappointment. But then you walked over and sat next to him, pulling him into a hug. “I missed you, Aven.”
He let out a shaky sigh and wrapped you up in his embrace, arms tight around you.
“Kakavasha.”
“What?”
“You should tell me, ‘I missed you, Kakavasha,’” he (Kakavasha?) said, his voice was shaky with emotion.
“I… I missed you, Kakavasha.”
“And I love you, sweetheart.”
#roro writes#asks answered#gn reader#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x gn reader#hsr x gn reader#honkai star rail aventurine x reader#hsr aventurine x reader#aventurine x reader#aventurine x gn reader#ew I’m a SAP#I had to give him a good ending like come ON#my lil Aven 🥺🥺🥺#if this is all over the place and talking in circles#then my apologies big dawg#LMFAO-#it’s like 2 in the morning I speed wrote this
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Hello! Can I request Fukuzawa Yukichi (BSD) and reader having a date during Tanabata festival? (that includes wearing yukatas, trying festival food, playing festival games, etc.) Thank you!
Hello Darling! My apologies for my absence. I hope you wouldn't mind if I added some....extra spice to your request?
Following the events of the Cannibalism incident and the capture of Dostoevsky, the Armed Detective Agency seems to slowly regain its flow and antics. You can hear the loud noises coming from the office as you walk up to the door, fresh cut blouse and pencil skirt delicately hugging your body, but keeping all your inner beauty intact. As you open the door to the office, you are greeted by the chaos engulfing the room from Ranpo's and Dazai's poking fun, with Atsushi being the victim of their teasing.
"Oi, Atsushi! Have you gotten the sweets from the bakery I requested?" Ranpo demands, as a lollipop hangs from his mouth.
"Not yet Ranpo-san. There is a bit of paperwork I need to complete before I ca-"
"Nay~ Atsushi-kun! Can you please do my work as well? All these dealings with Fyodor and his little schemes have taken all my precious time from napping. Do you mind helping your senior, hm?" Dazai leans his head forward into his arm, giving Atsushi puppy eyes.
"Dazai-san, Kunikida-san specifically instructed you to tackle them. not m-"
"Yeah, yeah. But Kunikida is not here, so I am sure that he wouldn't mind this one time."
"But..."
Before either of the elder men continued their torture on Atsushi, two metal clips were thrown at them, one hitting Dazai on the temple, and the other hitting Ranpo on the forehead.
"Hey! What the hell is your prob-" Ranpo loudly rambled bitterly, before noticing you standing, annoyance plastered on your face. A way of fear covers Ranpo, as he quickly silents his mouth from speaking any further.
Shifting his attention from Ranpo to you, Dazai slips a pleasant smile on his face.
"Good morning Belladonna Y/N-san! You look as exquisite as always. What do we own the pleasure, hm~?"
"Good morning to you too, Dazai. Mind explaining why I am witnessing harassment from the two seniors towards our young member?"
"Harassment? Oh, what a scandalous accusation! Me and Ranpo-san were merely teasing him, right Atsushi-kun?" Dazai turned to Atsushi, expecting him to agree with him. Taking a glance at you, Atsushi muttered, "If you expect me to defend you now, then you need to raise my payment buddy."
A low chuckle escapes your lips at the slow shock that enters Dazai's eyes. Before Dazai could counter with a smart remark, a baritone voice came from behind you.
"I see everyone is being productive today."
Turning your head, you noticed your beloved one standing behind you, a solemn expression resting on his features. Despite going through so much stress in the past couple of weeks, Fukuzawa never failed to look dazzling in your eyes. In fact, you would argue that all this danger for the sake of the safety and survival of the Armed Detective Agency has brought back the youthful danger that captured your heart long ago.
"Good morning President. Still practicing your assassin skills, hm?" You fully turned to Fukuzawa, tracing your eyes from his lips to his eyes, trying to notice the change in his stern look.
"One must always be aware of upcoming dangers. As a matter of fact, the recent events have shown how far the enemy is willing to sick low to fulfill their corrupt plans." Everyone at the office looked at him with serious expressions, the previous light atmosphere turning dimmed. Bringing his hands out of his sleeves to cough into his fist, he continued. "If you have time, please follow me to my office, Miss Y/N-san."
He turned his heel towards the door, walking towards the exit. You peeked your head to the side towards the boys, before glaring at Dazai and Ranpo, whispering, "Please get back to work before I decide to take off my gloves." Both men straightened out before silently nodding. Making fun Kunikida is one thing. Steering the President's mood with pranks is a possibility, but not high. But making you mad?
......................
'Might as well let Yosano heal them for 12 hours or even be a victim of Mori's play dates with Elise.'
Giving all three a smile, you stroll behind Fukuzawa, leaving the office. As soon as you walk in through the President's office threshold and the door is closed, Fukuzawa wraps himself around you. Nuzzling his head into your neck, you can't help but smile. No matter how long you have been together, he continuously acts like a cat, but only to the one who holds his heart.
Though it is known that you and Fukuzawa have been together for a few years, the workplace doesn't allow for public displays of affection. Most people refer to you as big sister or Y/N-san, but to Fukuzawa, behind the closed doors and only under his gaze, his sunshine. With both of you being the "parents" of the Armed Detective Agency, finding moments of intimacy is rare, but they are cherished.
Pulling away his head from your neck, Fukuzawa brushes his hand through your hair, caressing the strands that fall off your side. The look he gives you reminds you of the lovesick look that Hades had toward Persephone, the blazing eyes that hold devotion for you and no one else.
"May I ask something, my sunshine?"
"Anything. You may share and ask anything on your mind."
A small grin grows on his lips at your sincerity.
"It would seem that I have neglected our time together, and with the recent attack from the demon Dostoevsky, I haven't taken time to show you my love for you properly." Taking a sigh, he follows with his speech. "There is a Tanabata festival happening tonight. Would you give me the honor to take you on a date, my sunshine?"
Deciding to tease a bit, you grinned, "You know it's not smart to ask rhetorical questions, right dear?"
Pulling a soft laughter, he spoke, "It would seem that Ranpo has been rubbing off on you."
"What could have possibly led you to such a conclusion Mr. Detective?"
Bringing your foreheads together, with your noses brushing slightly against one another, you can feel his warm breath on your lips, tugging you to close the space and letting your lips dance in a passionate kiss. Deciding to follow your instincts, you closed the gap, and let a smile form on your lips as what a small peck turned into a deep and ravishing kiss. Your hands tug on his yukata, as his brash and colossal hands squeeze your hips, as soft moans and groans escape both of your lips.
You quickly pull your lips before both of you do something unprofessional, letting the whole agency know what kind of beasts both you and Fukuzawa can be once both of you get turned on. You lift your hand to gently grasp his face, memorizing his facial features to your memory core.
"When and where is Tanabata festival going to be held?"
Trying to regain some composure, Fukuzawa answered, "On the outskirts of Yokohama, and 6:30 in the evening."
You lean forward, seemingly going for another kiss. However, only for you to bring your pointing finger up to his nose, "Boop." You whisper.
Taking a step back, you straightened your clothes, walking towards the door. There was so much work to complete and the promise of a date boosted your confidence to get it done quickly. As you pass through the door, you turn your head to your lover, smirking at him. "Can't wait for our date, my love." As soon as you say it, you close the door leaving Fukuzawa shocked and speechless. Only one thought flashes through his mind:
"This woman will be the death of me, I swear."
Getting ready for the festival, you decided to wear your light blue yukata, decorated with sakura petals, making it appear as if an image of flying petals was dancing on your skin. This was a present from Fukuzawa two years ago, as it reminded him of you, a fresh breath of spring that releases his soul from the gruesome past. You wrap a light pink Obi belt around your waist, smoothing out your outfit, and then finishing up with putting up your hair in a bun, with a hairpin holding it still.
Checking that everything looks good, you take your Kinchaku pouch, before taking a step out of your shared room, seeing Fukuzawa waiting for you at the hall entrance by the front door. He was wearing a dark grey yukata, in contrast to his usual green one, with a black Obi belt hugging his waist. As he hears you approach him, he lifts his gaze, only to have his eyes widen a fraction. You feel bashful under his gaze, lower your eyes to your feet, and blush creeping onto your cheeks. Suddenly, you feel him taking up your hand, only to bring it to his lips, placing a delicate kiss on it.
"You look astonishing, my sunshine."
"I should be saying it to you, my dear."
Gently moving your hand, Fukuzawa places your arm through his, locking it in a hook. "Shall we head out?"
"Lead the way!"
"Look, there is strawberry and mango dango milk! We got to try it!"
"Be careful, don't trip, my love."
As people were flooding the festival, laughter and joy began to radiate through every corner of the event. The vibrant decorations of the summer festival peaking in all directions. You can hear the shouts of vendors, excitedly selling their delicious snacks and drinks, children running through the crowd with toys in their hands, and couples taking pictures at the event.
Though you have only been here for 15 minutes, there was one main priority. Food. Get the best and fresh food before it sells out.
"So it seems that you were the one who taught Ranpo how to indulge in food more than activities in the event."
Turning your head back to Fukuzawa after paying for two dango milks - strawberry and mango, and matcha flavor - you returned to him, handing him one of the milks.
"C'mon as a detective, it best to get the freshest clues before they disappear." Fukuzawa took a sip of his dango milk as you continued, "I mean, how else would you explain how I got the best-looking assassin in all of Japan?" Fukuzawa almost choked on the beverage at your comment, with you giggling into your hand.
"You are saying some dangerous stuff, sunshine. You almost had me killed."
"Would that mean that I bested the best assassin?"
"I would gladly let you best me if it means I can see your radiant face first thing in the morning."
Blushing, you turned your head away, "Now I know who taught Dazai to smooth talk women."
Both of you laughed at your comment. You could feel how the world stopped as if only you and him existed in this vast world. The past couple of weeks have been hell for you, as you watched your lover being poisoned and injured, having to fight not only the leader of Port Mafia but also before that, deal with the Guild incident and protect Yokohama all at once. Yes, he may not played the key role in successfully stopping all those attacks, but to everyone in the Agency, he was the pillar that held everyone grounded. Without him, the Agency would crumble and lose hope.
Rather than lingering on sad memories, you grasped Fukuzawa's hand, leading him to gaming vendors, trying to piece the good memories into your mind. You spend the next couple of hours going from one vendor to another, checking out fun games, and trying out new food. Like Takoyaki with Pufferfish inside, which if you two are honest, was something.....unique and unforgettable, to say the least. Or blue cheese bubble tea that almost made you puke from the simple smell of it.
The sky darkened, and Fukuzawa decided to take your hand and lead you uphill, to a clear view of the sky away from the people. As you found the spot to settle down, Fukuzawa hugged your waist, leading your head onto his chest and placing his head on top of yours, as distant cheers could be heard beneath you. You let the silence befall you, enjoying every moment as the silver moon glooms above, lighting up the world in diamonds.
After some time passes, you break the silence, "Thank you for taking me for a wonderful date. I loved everything about it."
Fukuzawa hums in response, "I am glad I could make it up to you, sunshine. I know that times have been hard on us, but..." He raises his head, looking down at you with pure love in his orbs. "I am thankful that you are willing to stay with me despite everything that has been thrown at us. Please know that even though I put my years of assassination behind me, say the word and I will raise my sword for you in the blink of an eye." Feeling the seriousness covering his voice tone, you look up to him, a small smile gracing your lips.
"I know." You sighed. "Only you can keep my heart from losing its warmth because it's now your heart and I have yours."
Staring at each other, you let your bodies speak the words your mind can't capture properly. As your lips touched each other like ghosts, a booming sound came from in front of you, signaling the fireworks show starting up.
Truly a magical moment to end a good day and a great date.
From this point, NSFW material. Proceed with caution.
Just because you can see each other briefly every day, exchanging soft kisses here and there, doesn't mean that your bodies don't crave something more. Something primal. Something that blossoms the core of pure lust and desire in the human body.
Deeping the kiss, Fukuzawa trails his hands down to your supple breasts, grazing and massaging them in a rhythmic pattern. As you felt his hand pull on one of your breasts, you moaned, opening your mouth wider, only for Fukuzawa to let his tongue trail your mouth, licking every craving that he could. Slowly, he brings back his mouth, only sucking on your lower lip. Almost automatically, you raised your head giving him access to your neck, allowing Fukuzawa to lead a trail of wet kisses from your jaw to your collarbone. He licks a few spots on your neck, before pressing kisses on them. Each causes a moan to escape your lips.
Raising his lips, he whispers, "Such a silky skin, soft to the touch, and all mine. Would you mind if leave an essence on myself for every day I left you by yourself?"
You knew that this was his way of asking for your consent for him to continue. There was already throbbing hardness brushing against your thighs, such a veil creature should not exist, but your cunt is getting wet from upcoming sensations Fukuzawa's cock is going to send through your body. You whimper, stutter laced in your voice:
"Ye~...y-....ye~s"
"You have to be a bit louder, kitten. I can't hear you over the roaming of the fireworks."
You muster all the sanity in your being before saying, "Yes. Please make me feel every inch of you in my body. I-I... beg you to fuck me till I can't walk without feeling you every step I take for the rest of my li-"
Before you could finish, Fukuzawa plunges a finger into your warm bottom lips, and wetness coats his finger, as he moves it in and out. A gasp leaves your lips, shivers spreading across your spine.
"Oh, it seems my kitten has been aching for me to properly fuck her senses out."
Fukuzawa pushes you gently on the ground, making sure you are comfortable, before proceeding with his ministration. Adding a second finger, he digs in and out, slowly curling it inside, until scissoring your insides. Your body is shaking from the pure adrenaline, as you feel yourself reaching your peak. Sensing it, Fukuzawa leans forward to your ear, whispering, "Let your pussy cum with sweet juices. But..." He picks up his pace roughly, "Only when I tell you, kitten."
The pressure was beginning to build up, until the pool of tears began to leak from your eyes, silently begging for Fukuzawa to let you cum.
"Since it's been a while since we did this, I will let you release. Now," his rasp voice deeps with lust, "Cum for me like a little slut you are."
And on that cue, you let your pussy come. Gasping from the pressure that was there inside your cunt, your high slowly dissolving. Until, you felt Fukuzawa shift his position, with him stationed between your thighs. He let out his pained and hardened dick, as it twitched from the relief of no longer being constrained by his underwear.
No matter how much you have fucked together, you will never get used to his size. He pumps his length, letting some friction coarse through it, before looking into your eyes.
"Are you sure you can handle it, sunshine?"
Nodding your head, you brought one of your hands to his cheek, caressing it gently. "I trust you to take care of me. I am all yours."
Shaking his head in acknowledgment, Fukuzawa pushed himself slowly into your pussy, making sure that every inch of you isn't lasting in pain for long. He knew that at first, it would hurt, but as you slowly adjusted to him, he proceeded to push forward, until every inch was inside your pussy. Letting your walls properly wrap his length for thirty seconds to fully grasp him in your insides, you softly muttered:
"You can move now."
Fukuzawa began to move in and out of you in a slow rhythm, ensuring that your body was feeling more pleasure than pain. As your body began to crave more friction, you grasped his back, digging your nails into his back, signaling for him to speed up. Taking the cue, Fukuzawa let his hips rock into you with stronger force, pistoling your insides to the point of making you squirt from immense pleasure. Feeling him getting close to releasing, he repositions you onto your knees and hands, moving aside your yukata to the side so he could have a look at your juicy round ass.
Following your request to make you feel him with every step you take, Fukuzawa knew that in this position he could hit your G-spot at the perfect angle, increasing pleasure that would travel through your body.
"Yukuchi~ I am going to cum! Please, I need to deeply inside my hungry pussy!"
He fastens himself, smashing and rearranging all of you inside, making your whimper and moan, like cock lover you are.
He mutters under his breath, "On my count, kitten." You rapidly nod your head.
He starts, "Three."
You continue, "Two."
And as the peak was seconds from spilling you sync your loud moan, "One!"
Semen explodes inside your clit, creaming all of your warm and stretched walls, till not a single drop is spared.
As both of you try to catch your breath, you move your head up, leaning your lips to Fukuzawa's. With your lips parted, there is only one question that lingers in both of your minds:
Another round?
#celestial corner of desires#bungou stray dogs x you#bungo stray dogs fanfiction#bungou stray dogs#fukuzawa yukichi#fukuzawa x reader#bsd fukuzawa#fukuzawa smut#bsd smut#bsd#bungo stray dogs x reader
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