#his accent has me in a chokehold | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mmeskywalker · 10 months ago

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|| new years and blooming hearts

summary: you’re in pansy’s dorm getting ready to go to the slytherin new year’s eve party. only, you’re a hufflepuff… you arrive to the party and the tension between you and THEODORE NOTT is palpable; so palpable in fact that matteo and enzo decide to help a brother out (by making theodore so insanely jealous that he arrived to his breaking point.) through breathless laughter, cold stares and tough crowds, you find yourself by theo, oddly enough during the countdown til midnight.

word count: 6.6k+

a/n: this is lowercase intended. i just wanted to write about theodore nott/lorenzo zurzolo because he has me in a chokehold. also, i read a fic with a similar concept to this but i can’t find it. if anyone knows which fic i’m referring to, please tag the creator in the comments.

- please imagine theodore with an italian accent, thanks!!! 😓

warnings: italian!theo. jealous!theo. angsty. friends to lovers. slowburn. oblivious reader and theo (they’re both clearly in love). love confession. tension. heavy kissing. pansy x blaise.

6:00P.M.

“okay… so what i’m hearing is that you hate me and want me to die.” you flinched at the dress pansy held to your body, your nose twitching as you dramatically gagged.

it was yellow with black stripes, reminding you of the bee movie you had previously watched with her and your friends in the slytherin common room.

pansy was cackling beside you; her hair hanging low in her face as loud snorts tumbled from her nose. “no—no you have to hear me out,” she cackled. “it’s perfect! it’ll match your house and everything, baby.”

“you know what else is perfect?” your lips twitched into a malice smile.

“what?” she was still laughing, hardly able to contain herself as she ran her fingers through her hair.

grabbing your wand, you pointed it toward the dress. “evanesco!” you quickly shouted, a smirk now adorning your lips as the fabric disappeared from her grasp.

“you’re no fun,” she pouted, her laughter ceasing before giggles bubbled right back up again. “i’ll tell you what, i think i do have a dress for you to wear. trust me?” she asked, still giggling as she cocked her head to the side.

“i don’t know…” you teased, “are you going to pull out another bumblebee catastrophe?”

“no, i promise.” she interlocked her pinky with yours, the laughter finally dying down.

after a moment, you sat on her bed, your head leaning against the headboard as you waited for her to find what she was looking for in the mess she called ‘closet’.

your fingers danced around your wand, attempting to spin it around your unskilled grasp—only for it to end up dropping to your side. you blew out a stream of tense air. “have you found it yet?” you impatiently wailed.

“hold on,” she replied, annoyed.

after holding on for what felt like half an hour — two minutes max — she found the dress she was looking for

and it was beautiful.

it was a black dress with spaghetti straps that would clearly hug your body; long, plain, but gorgeous; just what you wanted.

“pans, it’s perfect.” you said, excitement rushing through your veins before it pained back down. well shit, you thought as your heart practically pounded in your chest.

tonight was the slytherin house party hosted to celebrate the new year. you’re a hufflepuff, a hufflepuff that managed to befriend the group of slytherin that everyone wanted but couldn’t become friends with. you knew most of the slytherin house disliked you, but your friends were feared, nobody dared to say too much about you to your face.

how sweet of them, you thought.

“yeah, it’s nothing special, but paired with a few gold accessories and your pretty face it’s going to look great!” pansy set the dress on the blanket beside you, her hands smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles before meeting your gaze. “woah— hey what’s wrong?” she asked.

“uh,” you stuttered, looking toward the dress once, twice, before making eye contact with her again. “nothing’s— wrong?” you said, clearly trying to convince yourself of that matter rather than her.

you weren’t too emotional, always being able to hold a strong ground, but you had your days; like most hufflepuff. you guessed that today was one of those days.

great.

“baby, what’s wrong?” pansy asked again, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. “you know i’d never seriously make fun of you, right? you can talk to me,” she laughed softly, looking at you with an understanding gaze.

“it’s stupid.” you muttered, a smile creeping on your face despite the heavy turmoil in your chest. “i don’t even know if i should be going to this party… i don’t belong there.”

pansys brows furrowed. “whose making you feel like you don’t belong there?” she was upset, that of which you could tell.

“uh, everyone?” you responded as if it were as plain as day. “well, not you and our friends of course… but everyone else. they so-obviously don’t want me at their party, and i understand that; i mean, i’m a hufflepuff.”

pansy rolled her eyes. “screw them,” she said. “i want you there. matteo wants you there, enzo, draco, and blaise, all want you there.” her eyes glistened in the dim candlelighting, squinting as she drawled out her last sentence with an undeniable tease, “theo wants you there.”

pansy has known about your little crush on theo for years. it started in third year, when he began calling you that nickname you’ve just recently learned the meaning to: soffio.

it meant puff; a simple word that referred to your house, but it made your heart flutter.

he gave you that nickname

and it meant the world to you.

however, your delusions were just delusions. he didn’t know how much that name meant to you because he made it out of ridicule; a teasing ridicule, but ridicule at that.

“whatever,” you rolled you eyes, your thumb brushing away the singular tear rolling down your flushed cheek.

pansy smiled, getting out of bed, grabbing your hands to pull you off of the mattress as well. “you’re coming tonight,” she sing-songed. “and you don’t have a choice.”

7:30P.M.

"are you ready yet?!" pansy yelled against the bathroom door, pounding on it as you stared at yourself in the mirror.

your eyes shifted down the length of your body.

the dress looked just as good on as you imagined it would in your head, and if you were being honest, you're more-so holding her up to stare at yourself a little longer.

cocky, but whatever because you felt and looked amazing.

“one second!” you shouted, fluffing your hair up softly to make it look as if you ‘rolled out of bed’ in a perfect, flawless type way.

you could hear the sarcasm dripping from her tone as she counted, “one,” but you had already opened the door.

she looked stunning as well, wearing a long-sleeved, dark green dress with three gold rings forming a line down her slightly exposed chest.

“pansy, baby, you look so freaking pretty!” you squealed, your hands intertwined with hers mid-air as you both grinned at each other like overly-excited school girls. “me? oh my gosh, what about you?!” she said, her hands moving to your shoulders and rocking you gently as her eyes glistened. “you look so, so gorgeous, y/n!!!”

“i think theo’s going to have a mannerism,” she teased and you rolled your eyes.

“whatever,” you giggled.

. . . . . ╰──╮꒰ 🤍 ꒱ ╭──╯ . . . . .

8:00P.M.

two hundred slytherin and one hufflepuff,

but you’re only focused on six of them.

the six you felt safest around:

pansy parkinson (duh),

matteo riddle,

lorenzo berkshire,

(somehow) draco malfoy,

blaise zabini,

and theodore nott.

obviously, you didn’t walk in unnoticed.

matteo immediately sat up from the couch, making his way over to you as he watched you walk in with pansy. “funny seeing you here,” he teased, “how’s my favorite hufflepuff doing?” his arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you in closer to kiss the top of your head.

“yeah, yeah,” you rolled your eyes, laughing as you pushed him away. “and i’m okay, a little nervous, but i’m all good. y’know?”

“nervous?” matteo asked, cocking a brow.

you shot him a look and he quickly understood. “ah, no need to worry about them.” he promised, “they’ll be dealt with if they do anything.”

your forehead wrinkled slightly as you shot him a weary smile. “thanks.” you replied coolly, noticeably unsure of his intentions.

from across the room, theo’s eyes lit up, his frown transforming into a soft, bright smile as he made his way through the thick crowd to get to you. “soffio, you’re here.” his lips brushed against your hair, his arms wrapped around your head, pulling your cheek flat against his chest.

his italian accent was thick and heavy, harder to understand as his voice muffled into the depths of your hair, but you still felt a blush crawl over your flesh.

“theo—“ you muttered, your voice just as muffled as he pulled you even closer, one hand cupping the back of your neck while the other threaded through your hair, “i thought you weren’t going to show up, bella, i was worried,” he then whispered.

matteo shot him a look.

“theo you’re crushing me!” you giggled, your hands crawling up his chest to create a little distance between the two of you.

his large hand gently caressed your cheek; four fingers stroking your jaw as his thumb lingered in its original place, now smiling as he pulled away. “mi dispiace,” he whispered before turning his attention to the friend making his way over.

"i'm surprised you showed up," blaise drawled, leaning against the wall with an amused smirk. "thought you'd run the other way once you heard who all was coming." despite his words, there was warmth in his gaze as it met yours, a spark of admiration glinting in their depths.

“oh, shut up,” pansy hit his side, rolling her eyes. “if you scare her away i’ll beat your ass,” she then whispered, eyes squinting as she playfully bit down on her words.

“relax, ma.” he chuckled, his hands falling to her hips, squeezing them gently as he leaned down to kiss her, “let’s go get a drink, yeah?”

“and that’s my cue to leave,” pansy playfully hit your thigh, shooting a quick glance to theo as if she knew something you didn’t, “don’t do too much without me.”

you shivered as you watched her walk away, your mind racing at what she could have meant; knowing her, it could be anything.

draco entered the room then, scanning the gathering with a faint smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. he hesitated when he spotted you surrounded by the others, finally shrugging as if it wouldn't bother him either way before striding over. "y/l/n," he greeted coolly, shooting a smug look at matteo and theodore. "happy almost new year."

you wrinkled your nose at draco, a playful challenge lighting up in your eyes. "happy almost new year to you too, malfoy."

lorenzo approached last, his gaze taking in the group with a slow appraisal before he settled on you. there was something unreadable lurking behind his dark eyes, a mixture of surprise and a slight hint of desire. "quite the turnout," he murmured.

weird, you thought.

"aye, quite the turnout," matteo replied, chuckling softly as he placed a hand on lorenzo's shoulder. there was a brief moment of tension between them as they glanced toward you and theo, a silent understanding passing between the two of them before both men simply let it slide.

what seemed to you as theo ignoring their odd behavior, he turned to face everyone, clapping his hands together. "ah," he grinned, his voice full of mirth. "glad you decide to join us, lorenzo." theo patted his side.

lorenzo grinned, patting theo’s side in return, “wouldn’t wanna be here with anyone else.” he replied before looking toward the brunette woman he felt eyeing him down. “except maybe her,” he then smirked.

you heard matteo sigh, muttering a series of curse words as draco snickered beside him.

“whore,” draco spoke as if his commentary were a compliment, but lorenzo was too busy undressing the girl with his eyes to notice.

“well go up to her,” you groaned, rolling your eyes teasingly as you pushed him away from the circle. “don’t be a puss; drinking her up from afar is an unattractive trait, berkshire.”

he stumbled, his palms brushing down his white suit before glancing over at matteo. then, he turned around to wink at you playfully. “oh, you’re in for it later,” he chuckled. “wish me luck, love.”

‘good luck,’ you mouthed as he began to walk toward the girl, the tension in the room shifting.

theo scowled at lorenzo, three fingers rubbing against his thumb as matteo teasingly brushed the italian’s side. “chill,” he whispered, a shady smile playing on his lips.

“do not tell me to chill,” theo’s voice rose. “i am chill, no need to tell me to chill if i am already.”

your brows furrowed slightly, confused as to why theo snapped so suddenly. “everything okay?” you asked, your thumb rubbing soothing circles against his bicep before he blew out a sigh.

“yes, soffio,” he shakily assured, finding the hand you placed on his bicep, sliding it into his palm, and kissing your knuckles gently. “i’m— i’m okay.”

matteo grinned brightly as an idea struck his mind. “alcohol, anyone?”

8:30P.M.

you were trying not to spill your drink as you made your way back through the crowd. yeah, you were wearing a black dress, so you guessed that a stain wouldn’t really matter… but you still hated the feeling of wet fabric against your skin.

“ow,” you muttered as you bumped into matteo’s chest. don’t worry, you did not spill your beverage.

you were about to apologize until you noticed lorenzo standing beside him, now turning to stand behind you. your brows furrowed to the bridge of your nose. staring at them intensely, you asked, “uh, what exactly do you think you’re doing?”

“we’re going to help you out, girlfriend,” matteo smirked, his eyes a dangerous game, his tone slithering directly into one ear then finding its way out the next.

“like i said,” you scowled. “uh, what?”

“do you want a new years kiss or not?” lorenzo asked, his palm finding your waist to keep you steady as you tried to walk away.

you slapped his hand. “not from you, berkshire.” you spat.

“obviously not from me, idiot.” he rolled his eyes. “from theodore.”

your eyes lit.

matteo cocked his brow, “there might be one before new years though if he doesn’t crack.”

this time, you did spill your drink—a little of the liquid dripping from the rim of your cup as your hand jerked forward. “what are you talking about, matty?” your voice dripped with disgust as you then slapped lorenzo’s hand away from your waist, “and let go of me.”

“do you like theodore or not?” matteo asked, clearly annoyed.

“none of the bullshit either, sweetheart.” lorenzo dragged. “everyone can tell you’re crazy about the guy, there’s no point in hiding it anymore.”

“you know what they say…new year, new confessions.” matteo cocked a brow, waiting for you to come clean.

you huffed, the need to correct him strong as you rolled your eyes. “they don’t say that,” you said, but you were now looking toward the ground… “okayyesiliketheo,” you muttered.

“what was that?” lorenzo asked, a teasing smile apparent on his lips. “one more time for me, love?”

“yes; merlin, yes, okay! i like theo,” you bit in a faint yet deadly whisper. “what do you want from me? a cookie?”

matteo smirked, looking around before taking a step closer to you, “atta girl.” he said, “enzo and i’ve been thinking,” - “not a good sign.” - “girl, shut up. we were thinking and we know a way to get theo to confess his feelings.”

before you could ask how, you felt lorenzo’s proximity come closer as well. “he’s protective over you, that we all know.”

you couldn’t necessarily see enzo roll his eyes, but you could hear the eye roll in his tone.

“we’re going to make him jealous.” matteo added.

lorenzo nodded, “precisely.”

he stumbled, his palms brushing down his white suit before glancing over at matteo. then, he turned around to wink at you playfully. "oh, you're in for it later," he chuckled. "wish me luck, love."

'good luck, you mouthed.

“see, you were playing along before you even realized.” matteo nudged your shoulder playfully and you finally laughed, easing up a bit.

“you really think this is going to work?” you asked, a little unsure of the whole situation.

to that, lorenzo scoffed. “i know it’s going to work.” he stated. “darling, theo is head over heels for you; you’re all he talks about. let’s just consider this to be theo’s wake up call.”

9:00P.M.

you’re now wineless.

you downed three cup-fulls of the substance to take your mind off the fact you’re sitting on lorenzo berkshire’s lap at a party; a guy you’ve always thought of as a brother.

“i’m sorry.” he whispered against the side of your head, “i know how uncomfortable this may be for you.”

“not uncomfortable,” you responded, your head now resting against his shoulder, and that was the truth. you weren’t uncomfortable, “this is just different.”

he nodded, his gaze lingering on theo’s hand as he watched his knuckles turn white around a glass. “somebodies getting angry,” enzo chuckled. theo never contemplated anything when it came to you, must be the italian in him well, except maybe when it came to confessing his feelings. you watched as he began to walk toward the two of you. “prepare yourself, love.” enzo then warned.

“lorenzo,” theodore smiled, a forced smile, one that laid heavy on his chest. “how about you come on a walk with me, yeah? i want to speak with you privately.”

his eyes found yours—they were heavy and disappointed. your heart sank further, but you only held onto lorenzo a little tighter.

“woah, heyyy, what’s going on here?” matteo quickly intervened, gently patting theo on the back as he looked at you and lorenzo. “i didn’t know you two were a thing!” matteo sounded astonished, his mouth dropping as he chuckled. “theo, buddy, isn’t this wonderful news?”

the scowl on theodore’s face was apparent as he muttered, “considerati fortunata, puttana,” (consider yourself lucky, whore.) under his breath, but he quickly nodded. “yeah, such great and—wonderful news, mio amico.”

“you think?” lorenzo smirked, giving your waist a gentle squeeze before kissing your neck, cheekily staring at theodore as your hand entangled into his brunette hair.

theodore’s eyes darkened as he sipped his alcohol, an angry noise bubbling from his throat. “yep.” he bit, “it’s fucking wonderful.”

“now that’s good sportsmanship.” matteo rubbed theo’s back before continuing. “hey! i have an idea. why don’t we go dancing? how does that sound, lovebirds!”

you slid off lorenzo’s lap and he was quick to follow suite, his arm sliding around your hipbone, pressing your back against his chest. he had to be strongly willed because the way theodore’s gaze burned through his skull wasn’t easy to ignore.

at least you couldn’t ignore it.

it made you sick to your stomach.

theo set his glass on the table. “you do that—i’m going for a smoke.”

9:30P.M.

theo didn’t go outside to smoke.

instead, he was leaned against a wall, a cigarette planted between his parted lips as his eyes stuck to yours like glue; watching you dance against lorenzo rather than him.

you decided not to make eye contact with theodore because if you did you’d end up stopping the plan right then and there.

“enzo,” you muttered, your gaze struggling to stay on the ground as his chin rested on your head, swaying to the music with his hands on your waist. “hmm?” he hummed.

“could you, um,” you stuttered, your eyes fluttering to theodore’s and immediately regretting it. “turn me around.”

he nodded, his gaze now facing theodore’s pained one as you wrapped your arms tighter around his neck to comfort yourself. in return, he gave you a squeeze. “i know how hard this is for you, love,” he whispered, “but trust me, it’s going to be worth it.”

“are you sure?” you asked, your mind beginning to race. “because he hasn’t done anything other than stare. i mean, who stares at the person they supposedly have a crush on as they dance with your best friend?…oh my merlin,” you muttered, reality hitting you. “i’m dancing with his best friend.”

you tried to back away but lorenzo’s grip tightened around you, “y/n.”

“i’m going to hell,” you continued. “this is it for me. i’m literally the worst person alive. hell. that’s my future. h. e. double hockey stic—“

enzo squeezed your hips, signaling that he’s about to kiss you. “now?!” you shouted in an angry whisper. lorenzo nodded, his eyes darting toward theodore’s again, watching as he began to make his way over.

“now.” he confirmed and your stomach backflipped.

a hand came to your cheek, lorenzo’s thumb covering your mouth as he kissed that rather than you; to the unassuming eye, the kiss was passionate, stomach hurling curling.

any girl would die to kiss lorenzo berkshire; slytherin’s number one heart throb.

just not you.

but boy did you put on a show.

theodore stopped in his tracks, his hand reaching forward as a communication indicator but falling back to his side in defeat. he turned back around.

good thing you didn’t see that because you would’ve chased after him, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him passionately; not his fucking best friend.

10:30P.M.

you were comfortable dancing with lorenzo when theodore’s eyes weren’t burning through the two of you; laughing as his hands ghosted over your hips, dancing to the music as friends rather than ‘lovers’.

you almost forgot about the whole plan.

“thought that she… was with theo.” a slytherin you didn’t recognize commented.

“must be a pass around.” another smirked, and your heart sank even further.

you stepped away from lorenzo, emotions stirring as you made eye contact with the group talking about you.

their commentary came to an end as you watched matteo approach them in your peripheral vision. you didn’t hear much bickering after that, but regardless, your vision began to blur.

looking around, you noticed everyone staring at you, and you took another step back.

“hey— hey!” lorenzo was close to you again.

“what?” you bit. “this whole thing, this whole plan is stupid and i want to stop.”

“y/n.” he chuckled, looking around awkwardly, trying to place his arms around you waist but you smacked him hard in the chest, sending him slightly backward.

a small gasp tumbled from his parted lips.

you didn’t shout, but your voice graveled as you continued to walk into him. “i’m.” you hit him again. “not.” again. “doing.” again. “this.” and again. “anymore!”

but his arms stayed around you.

“i want to stop!” you were crying now, going limp against his chest as your throat burned. “please, please let me stop, enz… please.”

enzo drug a hand to your lower back, doing what he knew he needed to do. “don’t worry. i’ll go find pansy.” he whispered before kissing your temple.

10:45P.M.

“pans,” you cried, your mascara staining your cheeks as you burried yourself in her arms. “this was a mistake—i shouldn’t have agreed to their stupid plan.”

“hey,” she whispered, her fingers gently massaging your scalp. “we’ve all fallen for their antics before, don’t blame yourself too badly, honeybee.”

you shot her a look and she cocked her head, smiling empathetically, “not the time?”

“i’ll tell you what,” she whispered again, casting a small spell to rid the mascara from your cheeks before pulling your shoulders back to look you in the eye. “don’t leave. give it until midnight like planned, and if it goes wrong…” pansy took her phone out, a recording of both matteo and lorenzo stopping you earlier to explain the plan playing on screen.

she then smirked, “i’ll show him this.”

“when did you take that?” you asked, your fingers trailing down the length of the phone before looking at her skeptically; eyes still swollen.

her gaze shifted toward the ground, “let’s just say i was um… in on the whole thing…”

“don’t worry, though.” she says, brushing the final tear on your cheek away with the base of her thumb as she smiled. “they came to me so things wouldn’t get all fucked up… they care about you y/n, and they care about theodore, they don’t want to ruin this thing you have with him, okay?”

you nod, and she hugs you one last time before you have to go and find lorenzo.

11:00P.M.

“you seem tense, y/l/n,” draco found you before you found lorenzo.

his gaze drifted toward theodore, who was currently yelling at matteo—who was currently yelling at matteo. draco’s eye widened, astonished at the sight laid before him, “and i think i know why.”

“no, no, no, fuck!” you shouted, about to run toward them before the pair of hands you’d become so acquainted with today found your waist a-fucking-gain.

“do not.” enzo spat. “just be patient.”

draco raised his brows, clearly not even wanting to know as he silently left the scene.

“he’s going to kill him!” you shouted, struggling in his grasp, “let. me. GO.”

enzo rolled his eyes, “has anyone ever told you that you’re a stubborn little asshole?”

you paused for a moment. “hm, yes,” you nodded. now let me go.”

he held on tighter.

11:15P.M.

“no, no , no,” theodore’s fingers ran through his hair, “what is he doing to her, matteo? he shouldn’t be dancing with her like—like that! she’s a lady!”

theodore wasn’t yelling at matteo, his movements made it look as if he were upset, but he wasn’t. well… not at matteo at least.

matteo, being such a good friend, was letting theodore rant to him about how much he valued you and your friendship.

otherwise known as: matteo wanted to milk theo to his breaking point.

“dancing with her like what?” matteo asked, staring at you and lorenzo as he swayed and rocked his hips against yours. “seems to me like they’re having a little fun, if you know what i mean.” he winked playfully.

“jokester.” theodore drawled, pushing his shoulder. “i don’t like seeing her with him.”

matteo cocked his brow, “yeah and why’s that, buddy?” his head tilted to the side, “are you… jealous?”

theo looked astounded, immediately shaking his head in denial. “no, of course not.” he said, his cheeks turning a brighter shade of red as his anger grew palpable. “but she shouldn’t be here with that imbecille.”

“here we go again,” matteo rolled his eyes, groaning. “you never think anyone is right for her, dude. you have to give it a break.”

“a break,” theo threw his hand flat out in front of him, his forearm horizontal against his stomach. he drew it out, creating an invisible line. “she disserves someone that respects her, not a man like lorenzo.”

becoming harder to contain himself, matteo raised a brow at theo. "you mean deserves?” he grinned, continuing to drawl, “and who says he isn't the one for her?"

theo appeared as if he were on the verge of snapping. that caused matteo to chuckle, clasping his hands together as he grinned. “aw, what’s wrong, theo?” he playfully pouted, “you don’t like seeing them together? you poor, poor thing,” he puffed his lips. “guess you can’t do anything about it now.”

theo's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched as he glared at matteo. "this isn’t right," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "that boy is not good for her, and you know it."

matteo raised his hands in mock surrender, stepping back from theo. "whoa, whoa, calm down, buddy," he said, trying to lighten the mood. "i’m just messing with you. I know you care about her, but you can't control who she chooses to be with."

theo's gaze never left matteo, but he slowly relaxed his posture, his anger simmering down. "don’t mess with me right now, matteo," he warned, his voice still tense. "this is y/n we’re talking about; that boy will corrupt her!”

matteo shrugged, a smirk still playing on his lips. "maybe she likes the bad boys," he teased, gesturing toward you and lorenzo. "maybe she's into a little danger and excitement."

theo scoffed, muttering a curse under his breath. matteo raised an eyebrow, leaning closer to his friend, his tone becoming serious.

“you love her, buddy.” he said softly, his words filled with gentle understanding, “i know you do; trust me, i’ve seen the way you’ve looked at her since first year. just talk to her.”

the moment stretched thinly between them, theo's face twisting with an agonizing mix of emotions. things became tense, and both men glanced over to where you and lorenzo danced in the distance.

“i need a drink,” theo muttered.

11:30P.M.

“this sucks,” you groaned, looking at lorenzo only to find that his gaze is back on the brunette girl from earlier. you watched him, rolling your eyes before taking that chance to slip away.

music blared throughout the common room, it was upbeat and happy, but your focus drifted toward the window as you sat on the ledge.

you could feel the weather seeping through the glass, a gentle coldness caressing your cheeks as you took a deep breath in.

you sighed heavily, rubbing your temples with your fingertips, trying to clear your thoughts as you stared out into the misty night. winter breezes blew through the open windows, accompanied by the distant sounds of laughter resounding from behind you, but for some reason, you couldn't enjoy yourself.

a part of you longed to rejoin the festivities, while another wished for escape entirely. lost in thought, time seemed to blur until suddenly, draco’s voice startled you from your own thoughts.

"i wasn't aware the fireplace emitted such an enticing scent." he commented dryly, leaning casually against the window frame beside you. "or did you just need another excuse to avoid lorenzo back there?"

you repeated, "an excuse," you blew out a string of air, turning to look at draco with a raised eyebrow. "or maybe i just needed a break from the chaos."

draco smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. "chaos?" he echoed, leaning back against the window frame. "i thought you enjoyed these kinds of gatherings."

you shrugged, looking back out into the night. "sometimes," you admitted, "but not when i'm stuck in the middle of a bunch of drama."

draco's smirk faded slightly, his eyes narrowing as he studied you. "don’t be too hard on yourself, y/l/n," he said softly, his tone more serious now. "you're just trying to figure things out, like the rest of us."

you hesitated, biting your lip as you considered his words; words that you never thought you’d hear from him. "maybe," you murmured, glancing back at him. "but it's hard when everyone else seems to have it all figured out."

draco's gaze softened, and he reached out to gently take your hand in his. "we all have our moments, y/n," hemumbled. "don't fall through to others. just focus on what makes you happy."

his eyes flicked toward the party, a hint of sympathy in his gaze. "trust me, even the most confident among us struggle on occasion. and that includes myself." he added, smirk reappearing briefly.

you sighed, examining his hand holding yours, his grip firm yet comforting.

"it's hard to believe sometimes," your fingers curled around his, returning the pressure. "everything's getting complicated."

"maybe," draco mused, "and that's alright. life would be boring without consequences and complications." he smiled, a rare glimpse of vulnerability in his eyes.

for the first time, you felt a pang of pity for him- not because he was malfoy, but because he was human.

draco’s eyes drew over yours, then they glanced toward theodore who was cocking his head in your direction. the boy seemed to follow you everywhere, not letting you get too far when anyone approached you.

“i better get out of here before your real boyfriend starts to think i want any trouble,” draco chuckled.

you looked up at him, "what?" he waved, his brows angled in an amused position as he grinned. "i'll see you later," he chuckled.

you hesitated, your gaze flickering between draco and theo, who was still watching you from afar. you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for this whole evening.

"yeah, see you later," you murmured, pulling your hand away from draco's and standing up.

draco nodded, his smirk never wavering. "don't let theo get too jealous now," he teased before turning and disappearing back into the party.

you watched draco walk away, a mix of amusement and confusion playing on your face. you couldn't help but feel a little flustered by his teasing, but you also couldn't deny that he had a point.

11:45P.M.

you looked up at the clock, contemplating on whether or not to just go back to your dorm. you were tired of pretending, and it wasn’t like enzo was coming back to you anytime soon. he had that girl pressed against the wall, his lips violently sucking the sweet spot under her jaw, her legs wrapped around his waist.

“fifteen minutes til new years,” an overhead announced, “head outside for the firework show, or don’t, whatever!”

their voice was cocky, but it caused you to finally crack a smile as you headed toward the door. you weren’t going to mope, but you also weren’t going to bother your friends who were clearly busy with their lovers or one-night stands.

the music was still loud outside, blaring messages from her by sabrina claudio through the speakers as you stood by a fountain.

sitting on the ledge, you watched the water, the stillness of it causing you to relax.

somewhere behind you, you heard footsteps crunching on gravel and snow. slowly, you turned to see theodore walking toward you hunched down into his coat.

his eyes met yours and a sympathetic look crossed his features. "i couldn't stay away," he whispered, further approaching until he was sitting on the ledge next to you.

though it pained you, you smiled at him, wanting to say a million things but you voice falling flat as he shifted around nervously.

“you must be freezing,” he then commented, pretending to just now notice your spaghetti strapped dress as he slid out of his jacket, shrugging it off his shoulders and carefully draping it over yours.

"thank you, theo." you murmured, wrapping the familiar fabric of his jacket around you, the scent of him clinging to it.

theo glanced away, his jaw tightening before he spoke again, seeming to collect his thoughts.

"happy new year, soffio," he said cautiously, focusing his attention back on the fountain.

you mirrored his gaze, feeling a tear pool in your eye. your throat burned as you swallowed. "happy new year," you whispered back, hesitating before tentatively reaching out to grasp his hand.

theo's features softened, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "is it true," he asked quietly, casting a quick glance your way, then looking back sharp to the water.

your breathing hitched, swallowing the lump in your throat. "is what true, theo," you whispered, fixing your gaze on his profile.

“you and lorenzo,” he replied, the sentence like poison on his tongue.

you held back a small breath, shaking your head vigorously. "no," you managed after a heavy exhale.

"then why did you leave me to be with him earlier?" theo questioned stiffly, his own whisper evaporating in the chilled air. you closed your eyes, letting out a shaky sigh.

his grip on your hand tightened, though you didn't pull away.

"it's not like that," you mumbled, struggling with your emotions. "it’s complicated..."

your voice trailed off, uncertainty clouding your judgement.

“so tell me, y/n!” theodore’s voice rose, now holding both of your hands, turning you to look him in the eye. “devi dirmelo. (you have to tell me) i can’t take it— i need you to tell me what’s going on between you and lorenzo. is- is he or is he not your lover?”

you watched his eyes plead with you, the desperation washing away some of your fear and anxiety. “it wasn’t real,” you stammered, your voice just as loud. “none of it; the kiss, the dancing, the whole relationship.”

you took a deep breath, steadying yourself for the conversation that was about to unfold. "okay?” you shakily muttered, meeting his gaze. "that whole thing was to get us together."

theo's eyes widened, his grip on your hands loosening slightly. "what?" he whispered, clearly taken aback by your confession.

you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. "i know it sounds crazy, but i wanted to be with you, theo. they told me this would make you ask me out—” you cringed at your sentence, “if you don’t believe me pansy has the whole video."

your voice trembled, and you could feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "i'm sorry, i never meant to hurt you."

theo stared at you for a long moment, his expression a mix of shock, confusion, and hurt. "why would you do that, soffio?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, “make me jealous so i’d get with you? bella…”

your eyes welled up with unshed tears, your voice catching as you spoke. "i was scared," you admitted. "scared that you wouldn't see me the same way, scared to ruin our friendship... scared that you wouldn't-"

a sob echoed from your chest, causing you to falter.

"sorry, i'm so sorry, " you breathed, burying your face into his shoulder.

as the realization washed over theodore's face, his embrace around you tightened. "va tutto bene," (it’s okay) he whispered, a catch in his voice as he stroked your hair repeatedly. "soffio, i have loved you for so long. i despised seeing you with him tonight.”

you pulled back slightly, your eyes searching his face for truth. "you... you love me?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

theo nodded, his eyes filled with sincerity. "always, bella, but i never thought you saw me the same way."

you bit your lip, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "i'm sorry, theo," you murmured, leaning back into his embrace. "i should have told you sooner."

"it's okay," he reassured you, his arms tightening around you. "we can start fresh now. no more games, no more pretending."

you nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "i'd like that," you whispered, your eyes closing as you rested your head on his shoulder.

the countdown to midnight began over the speakers, the music dying down as people waited for the new year. “come here,” he whispered, a hand placed on your waist, positioning you to straddle his lap as he rested both palms on your hips.

you hesitated for a moment, but then slowly shifted your weight, wrapping your legs around him as he guided you.

“tell me you want this, bella,” he whispered, one palm gently squeezing your hip as the other came to caress your cheek.

with a subtle smile, you leaned in toward him, whispering into his ear. "i want this, theo," you confirmed.

his adam's apple bobbed, his thumbs tracing lazy circles on your lower lip. you closed your eyes, feeling his breath tickling against your skin. there was anticipation on his expression, almost palpable.

as the countdown reached zero, the music swelled, and fireworks exploded in the sky, theo’s palms guided your face in anticipation, tasting you the way he’d dreamed of for years as his lips danced softly, gracefully against yours.

you shivered against him, relishing in the warmth of his embrace as your happiness leaked into every corner of your being.

this moment was different, liberating. his touch, intimate, and sincere.

“bella,” he whispered sweetly, resting his forehead against yours, “don’t you try and win my affection again, understood? it’s yours; it always will be yours.”

you laughed, kissing the tip of his nose as you closed your eyes, “okay, okay. i got it.”

his laughter grew with yours, his head falling to your neck as he softly kissed the delicate skin under your ear, “happy new year, soffio.” he then whispered, twirling a strand of your hair around his finger.

“happy new year, theo.”

#theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theodore nott #slytherin #hufflepuff #theo fluff #hogwarts #theodore nott scenarios #theo nott #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott imagine #lorenzo zurzolo #fanfic #fanfiction

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yandereunsolved · 10 months ago

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• Him being interested in you and drugging your food so he can convince you to stay.

• He wants to kill you on Devils Night as a romantic and symbolic gesture. He wants to keep you with him forever <3

• People always talk about neck slit and those people are right. If you bought him different ascots, scarves, whatever that you can wrap around his slit... he wants to take you right then and there ❗ ❗

• Insecure about scars??? Bro is fucking obsessed with any scars, deformities, or strange things about his love. He'll kiss them and admire them and ask if he can give you more.

• Him in a modern au where you both are serial killers and you take refugee in his hotel. >>>>>>>>>>>>

• Wants to dress you in 1930's clothing. He sees you wearing one of his suits and suddenly... you are the only thing on his mind. Literally the meme of where yo clothes at???

• Despises new fangled technology but will begrudgingly be taught about it. Just so he can have people promote the hotel on social media... more social presence, more victims.

• He wants to hold more gatherings in the hotel as well. Like I said ❗ MORE MORE MORE victims

• He likes to coat people's blood on his fingers and rub it on you. Make you lick it off. He just loves seeing you covered in other people's blood.

• His favorite color is red. Obviously... have you seen the hotel??? He also loves brown tones.

• Signs off everything with his initials 'JPM'.

I need someone to pump their James thoughts into my head

#me core #literally me #me taking a break from writing JPM headcanons to reblog this <3 #he has me in a chokehold #bahahaha #i love him #he is so beautiful #so pretty #more JPM content #his accent is sooooo fine as well #james patrick march

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hoonieyun · 3 months ago

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APT

pairing: sim jaeyun x reader “y/n”

warnings: drinking, kissing, suggestive, overall 18+

genre: friends to lovers, down bad jake, college au

summary: a drinking game with jake leads to more than just shots

word count: 1337

notes: im not going to lie. this song has me in a chokehold. ive also just seen an insane amount of jake edits with this song that i couldn't help but write something LOL anyways as always the lyrics used in this are from "apt" by rosie and bruno mars and all the credit goes to them for this amazing song! (not proofread but who cares not me!)

apateu, apateu, apateu

“six!” jake yells and the two of you begin to stack your hands over one another’s until you reach the 6th hand, yours. “no way! you totally did that on purpose!” you say, shooting jake a glare with a pout; knowing that he was very inclined in math so he probably figured out what number he needed to say to get you to be the one to take the shot.

“no! i swear!” jake says, smiling at you while throwing his hands up in surrender, his accent thick as ever. you wince at the taste of the alcohol as you take the shot, the small shot glass making a clinking sound as you set it back down on jake’s bedroom floor.

the two of you were currently sat across from one another in crissedcross position as you played a korean drinking game. one you and jake used to play at the beginning of college whenever the two of you would gather with your friends and drink over the weekend. today, however, was just and jake. it was originally going to be a lot more of you but when you arrived jake told you that everyone ended up cancelling and when you said that you should head home and study instead of drink, jake convinced you to stay.

you were now about 5 shots in while jake had only taken 2. “that’s not fair, i’ve drank way more than you have.” you complain to jake, a pout still on your face as you refill the shot glass. the scent of the clear liquor finding its way to your noses.

jake watched you adoringly as you poured the shot, your bottom lip still jutting out, instinctively; he bites down on his own bottom lip as he watches you. “okay, ready?” you ask as you screw the cap back onto the soju bottle and jake nods. a smile on his face as he watches you brush your hair away back, giving him a clear view of your collarbone and neck, now a slight shade of pink because of how much you had drank.

red hearts red hearts

that’s what i'm on yeah

you and jake once again start the game, repeating the singular word 6 times but now it was your turn to yell out a number.

“9!” you shout and one by one, you and jake place your hands over one another’s until you reach the number nine. luckily, this time it was jake’s hand, meaning he had to take the shot. you laugh at jake, happy that he finally lost and would take a shot, he smiles at your reaction and picks up the shot glass, bringing it closer to his lips. just as he’s about to take the shot, he stops.

“y/n, can i tell you something?” he asks and your mouth falls open. “yeah. AFTER you take the shot. you’re not getting out of this one.” you say, bringing your hand up to his and motioning his hand towards his mouth, drinking the shot. small droplets of the soju leak onto your hand and out of jake’s mouth and instictively, you wipe the soju off of his lips. you blink at him a few times after you realize what you just did and jake swore he saw fireworks and sparks fly just from that small gesture.

“um, okay. here let me fill it up again.” you say, grabbing the shot glass from his hand to refill just so you could move on from the awkward interaction. “wait!” jake says, grabbing your wrist, causing you to look up at him. his eyes shimmering in the light like it held the universe in them. you weren’t sure if it was you or the alcohol but you hadn’t fully realized how handsome jake was, especially tonight. his cheeks slightly red and his hair wasn’t styled but still fell so effortlessly well across his forehead.

jake on the other hand, hasn’t stopped thinking about how pretty you looked since you walked into his apartment. your hair was tucked behind your ear and you wore that lip gloss that he secretly liked on you. it left your lips looking so pink and plump and he couldn’t help but think of what they tasted like. the lips… not the gloss.

your lips were a bit bare, the gloss having worn off every time you took a shot, but he couldn’t stop thinking about how soft they still looked. like pillowy clouds.

the two of you were just staring at one another and it happened in a blink of an eye. jake was leaning over to you, softly cupping your face, and bringing you closer to his face. “can i kiss you?” he asks, voice low as he looks down at your lips. you slowly nod, thinking to yourself that jake’s lips have never been more tempting. “use your words, please.” jake says and once again, you nod followed by a soft yes. as soon as the 3 letter word leaves your lips, his are on yours.

don’t you want me like i want you, baby?

don’t you want me like i need you, baby?

when you and jake pull away from the kiss, although short, it felt like it was a moment that was just waiting to happen. jake pulls away and his eyes slowly flutter open and he sees you, looking up at him with doe eyes, mouth still slightly open.

“was that ok?” jake says sheepishly. “more than okay.” you say, a smile on your face as jake takes a seat back down. your thumb flies over your mouth as it graves over your lip. you glance over at jake and he’s leaning back on his hands, a smirk on his face. “what are you smiling at?” you ask, teasingly.

the smile on jake’s lips grow wider as you ask the question. “nothing, i’ve just been waiting to do that for a while now.” he confesses, a surprise to you because your feelings for jake have always been surpress, fearing that it would ruin your friendship and of those around you.

you slowly stand back up and jake watches your figure make your way over to his spot on the floor. you take a seat on his lap, a bold action that without the alcohol, is something you would’ve never had the courage to do. jake accepts your gesture, tightening his body so that he could carry you on his lap, otherwise; he would’ve melted right into you. wrapping your arms loosely around his neck, you play with his hair a bit, before you say anything.

“what took you so long then?” you ask and jake could’ve sworn that he could feel his heart beating out of his chest. he’s never felt this around a girl before and quite frankly he hopes that he’ll never feel it with any other girl but you. you lean down and give jake another kiss but to his disdain, the kiss was too short so shifts his weight forward, grabbing your waist with one of his arms as he brings you back closer. connecting your lips once again, this time the kiss is more intense. a type of passion that you had never experienced with any of your previous lovers and hookups.

a type of feeling that only jake could give you.

after what felt like you two were kissing for eternity, the two of you pull away to catch your breath. you stare at one another, both of your lips a bit swollen as you try to steady your breathing. suddenly, jake leans forward, grabbing the bottle of soju and pouring another shot. his arm, still wrapped around your waist, holding you steady as he pours the shot. he hands you the small glass as he takes the bottle of the soju for himself.

“geonbae.” jake says as he takes the shot. you chuckle, finding him cute whenever he says korean words with his australian accent.

all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned.

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asilentsongbird · 1 year ago

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For you, I think I would learn how to love

For my lovely anon who asked for husband Neuvillette, I bring you a whole fic. This man has me in a chokehold and I need everyone to know how much I love him.

Pairing: Neuvillette x fem! Reader Word Count: ~7k

Summary: Tired of waiting for you to find a husband, your parents find one for you. One who happens to be the Chief Justice of Fontaine. A new city, a new life, a new husband. So much new, and you could only hope, deep in your heart, that you would find happiness and love in Fontaine.

The first time you meet him, it's rather formal.

It's not as though you have much of an option. Though you certainly couldn't say you expected when you woke up to be told that your parents had found a husband for you, and that you'd be married in a week.

They had been pushing marriage lately, saying you were the right age, but the thought had been far from your mind. You thought you still had time, and the next thing you knew, you were being brought to Fontaine.

It's certainly different from Liyue. The hills and mountains are different from the Stone Forrest. The air feels different, there's water heavy in it.

You wait, in an ornate room that feels much too fancy. You've been left alone for a brief moment, the most your parents have allowed since you were told the news.

Part of you wonders if you could escape if you jumped out the window. A quick glance told you that it was much too high to entertain that idea. You'd end up breaking a leg before you got out of this marriage.

The door opens. A man appears, with long white hair with blue streaks in it. Simply from his appearance, you can tell that this is someone important. Your spine straightens as sharp eyes land on you, zeroing in on you.

You felt small, for a moment. As though he was judging you for simply existing in a space you'd rather not be in. Though your parents didn't care if you had plans or wished to find a husband on your own.

The man doesn't say anything. He closes the door behind him with a click, and makes his way over to you. Despite the desire to shrink back, you stand your ground, until he finally stands before you.

Up close you can see more details. He towers over you in height, but you suppose most people would feel short compared to him. His eyes capture your attention the most, the pupils such a strange shape, but gorgeous nevertheless.

"I apologize for leaving you waiting," he starts, almost looking as lost as you on how to start.

You wave your hands frantically in front of you. "It's fine! I didn't expect anyone to come in. I was told I would be meeting-"

Saying future husband felt much too strange. The man in front of you notices your pause, and arches a single silver brow. You frantically try to remember the name of the man who is meant to be your fiance.

"Ah, sorry, I was meant to meet a Mister Neuvillette?" your voice stumbles awkwardly over the new word, still struggling with the accent.

On the trip to Fontaine, your parents had tried to give you lessons on the language, as though you would become fluent in the few hours it took to travel.

The man blinks. And then he blinks again, as though he's trying to figure out what you just said.

Apparently the lessons hadn't worked.

"Sorry, my accent needs work," you apologize. "I hear he's the Chief Justice?"

The man nods, slowly. "That is correct."

You hum, non-committal, waiting to see if your company decides to keep the conversation going. When he doesn't, you find yourself unable to think of words.

Well, this felt awkward. And from the way the man still seemed at a loss for words, he also felt the same.

The tension could almost cut a knife.

He clears his throat after a moment, the sound almost makes you jump.

"Yes, well..." he pauses, gesturing towards the couch. "I am sure monsieur Neuvillette will be here soon."

You take a seat near him. Not close enough to be inappropriate, but close enough that it would be clear that you were talking. Maybe "monsieur Neuvillette" will see the two of you and decide that this marriage wasn't something he wanted a part of.

"Congratulations on your engagement," your new friend tells you after a moment. You give him a tight lipped smile.

"Thanks."

Once again, silence descends over you two. You fidget with your skirt, smoothing out the wrinkles from travel. Hopefully, it wasn't something your new husband would be upset about.

At least the silence didn't feel as oppressive this time. You let yourself relax, taking a deep, steadying breath.

"Can I ask you something?"

The man beside you nods. You still haven't gotten his name yet, you realize. You'd have to ask later, after some other questions. Who knows when your parents and future husband will be coming.

"Um...how is Neuvillette?" you tentatively ask, to which you only receive a rather blank, if not curious look.

You suppose you'll have to be more direct. Though it almost pains you.

But at least, if he's not kind, you would like a warning. Some way to prepare yourself for what the rest of your life is going to be like. Some women, they don't even get that. They were woken up on the day of their wedding, and the rest of their lives was at the whims of their husbands.

You steel yourself, and fully turn your attention to your friend.

"Is he kind?"

Something in him softens at that. He looks at you with an emotion that you can't recognize in that moment. Pity, maybe?

He opens his mouth, but before you can get your answer, the door opens.

Your parents lean in for a moment, see you sitting on the couch, talking to a stranger, but strangely have nothing bad to say about that. In fact, they look delighted.

"Are you two getting along well?" your mother asks you, somewhat reminding you of a cat just having caught a bird.

The satisfaction on her face made you uneasy, like there was a secret you were missing.

"Fine, thank you," your friend replied for you when you couldn't manage words. "Your daughter is very polite."

Your parents beam at that. The uneasy feeling in your stomach gets worse.

"Thank you, monsieur Neuvillette."

Somehow, it hadn't dawned on you. Your stomach feels like it falls into the floor, but Neuvillette doesn't seem to have any other reaction, looking at your parents. They don't even wither under his stare.

You never wanted to shrink into the floor more. You had just asked your future husband about himself. And more than that, you asked him if he was kind.

Your parents talk with Neuvillette, allowing you a moment to feel invisible and wallow in your self-pity and embarrassment.

At least, until you feel a small tug on the sleeve of your blouse.

It's one of the melusines, you had found them to be very cute upon first seeing them. Your parents hadn't explained much about them, so you found yourself blinking down at the small melusine.

"He is," she says to you, nodding.

You tilt your head to the side. Briefly, you feel eyes on you, but when you look at your parents, they're still talking to Neuvillette, and taking his attention.

"He's what?"

She hands you a long ribbon. It's a deep, ocean blue, the same color that Neuvillette is wearing.

"He is kind," she explains, patiently, as though you were a child. "I heard you ask."

Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, especially as she climbed up next to you, weaving the ribbon through your hair, and both your parents and Neuvillette turned to stare.

"Y/N, that is very rude to ask," your mother scolds, because that is the lot of women in life, only to worry about when men think of you and what might make you undesirable. You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

"Nonsense, it is a very reasonable question to ask. Why wouldn't someone want to know who they're marrying?" Neuvillette cuts in, before your mother can scold you any more.

Your parents fall silent, nodding their heads in agreement as though they hadn't been about to lecture you like a child. You would have laughed if it wasn't for the Melusine finishing with your hair.

"There," she says, with her self imposed job done. "Will you be having a wedding?"

You weren't sure your heart could take any more surprises today. Your cheeks hadn't even lost their blush from the first moment, at this point you didn't think they'd ever go back to their normal color.

"We'll have to see," you murmur, because you weren't completely sure yourself.

She nods, taking in your word and opinion as though it was law. Neuvillette didn't contradict you either, but did finally turn back to your parents.

You don't get too much of a chance to participate in most of the conversation. The Melusine, Sedene, as you learned the name of, asks you more questions that keep you occupied.

It's a welcome distraction. It's better than awkwardly listening to a conversation about your future where at least two of the three people here wouldn't even care for your input.

The jury was still out on Neuvillette.

Eventually though, it grew late, late enough that Sedene was sleeping with her head on your lap. It seemed that finally the other three were tired of negotiating over your life.

Before you knew it, you looked up from your lap just in time to see Neuvillette leave without even a goodbye, the door clicking behind him. Your parents look much too pleased with themselves, which you somehow didn't think was possible.

"I told you, the match would be a good one," your mother tells your father, pride seeping into her voice.

You're not so sure. You can't be sure. At least not yet.

"Yes," your father agrees, with the same fond voice he always had when he didn't want to argue with your mother, and it's easier just to agree.

It seems, just like the foundation of Liyue, that your future is set in stone.

You hope Fontaine will be kind to you.

-x-x-x-x-

You do not have a wedding.

It's actually fine with you. More than fine, really. Apparently as Chief Justice of Fontaine, Neuvillette is well liked and popular. The amount of people you'd have to invite to the wedding would be too many for you.

So you simply don't. You sign a document and in the eyes of the law, and of Neuvillette, that is enough.

Though a part of you aches that you will never have the traditional Liyuen wedding you dreamed of as a child. But you suppose that dreams of childhood should stay there.

You move into Neuvillette's home. Fontaine comes as a culture shock, almost.

The amount of times you get absolutely lost in this fish-bowl of a city manages to astound even you.

It's not your fault, really. Liyue Harbor is easy to navigate, warm and welcoming. In Fontaine, the streets all somehow manage to look the same, though the shops sell things you never even thought of. At some point, you're pretty sure you even see a woman standing outside of a building with a mechanical bird.

You end up seeing other Melusines more than your new husband. You don't really blame him for this, his job is important and needed, so each day he bids you a single "good morning" along with a look you couldn't decipher, as he heads to the Opera House.

That's a whole other thing about Fontaine that you still haven't investigated.

It's not as though you're upset that you don't see Neuvillette often. But he is one of the few people that you know here, and it doesn't take long for you to be lonely in the new city, without any of your friends.

Though you find the Meluine's to be kind. They help you when you get lost, and press small gifts into your palms as they take your hands to lead you around.

They tell you to tell Neuvillette to take some time off work. To spend some time with you. You nod and agree that you'll tell him the next time you see him.

But when the man quickly leaves in the morning and doesn't return until late, you never really get a chance to.

If you didn't know any better, you would have thought he'd been avoiding you.

It's like that for almost a month. He says good morning, disappears, and you wander the city to familiarize yourself with it. He never comes home until the sun has almost set, and night is almost there, while you wander until the rain finally starts for the day.

You asked the Melusine's about it once, commenting that there wasn't so much rain in Liyue. They tell you of the hydro dragon and the tears it cries. You hope that someday you will get to meet this dragon and see what makes them so sad.

At least, it stays like that until it doesn't, as most things tend to do.

You were lost, which wasn't too much of a surprise, but unlike the times before, there were no Melusine's to bring you back home or to a place you knew. The rain had started earlier today, earlier than anyone seemed to expect, and before you knew it, you were huddled in an alley, your clothing absolutely soaked and shivers running down your spine from the wet and the cold.

You missed Liyue. You missed your friends, your parents, you missed the smells and sounds of the harbor. Tears burned in your eyes and mixed with the rain on your cheeks.

Standing there simply isn't going to fix things though, so you eventually left your small, but dry, protection, and decided to finally figure out this city.

Your confidence fades the longer you walk around.

It takes almost two hours of wandering around in the rain until you finally recognize something. Not the path home, but to the first place you ever meet Neuvillette, despite not knowing at the time.

You push open the door. It's late, though that doesn't seem to mean the place is devoid of life. Wrapping shaking arms around yourself, you spot a sliver of light coming from Neuvillette's office.

It felt much too late to be working, but perhaps it was Sedene, fixing up things. Tentatively, you knock on the door, and the faint scratching of a pen against paper suddenly stopped.

Suddenly, this felt like a mistake. You took a single step back, but before you could change your mind and leave, the door swung open and Neuvillette stood there, a look of mild concern on his face.

Neither of you spoke. Neuvillette looks you up and down, brows furrowing, and you realize all at once that you must look like a sight, absolutely soaked and dripping water on the floor. If you weren't so cold, your cheeks would be flushed.

"Why are you here?" he asks, glancing around as though that would provide him with the answer.

Your shoulders slump. You can't really explain why. Maybe it's the disappointment at the sight of you, or the lack of a warm welcome. Not 'what happened to you' or 'why are you soaking wet' but instead a question that felt almost like he questioning your presence in general.

"I-um," you stutter through chattering teeth, "I got lost and didn't know where to go."

That felt like an understatement of what happened, but you weren't sure how else to answer the question.

Neuvillette didn't seem to know either.

When he didn't say anything more, you shifted from foot to foot, wincing at the cold and the squish of wetness. You'd be lucky if you didn't get sick, after this.

"You got lost?" he finally asks, as though the concept was foreign to him.

You don't know what to say, so you shrug, peering around him. It seemed Sedene had already left for today, and there went your hope for an escort home.

"The streets all look the same to me," you manage, shivering again. "Uh-you can just tell me which way to go, and I'll get out of your hair. I didn't mean to be a bother."

"And why didn't you ask anyone for help? Anyone could have told you where I live."

The question almost comes out cold, for how logical it is. You huff, a small noise of frustration. All you wanted at the moment was to get out of these wet clothes and to be warm again. But it seems that isn't going to happen any time soon.

"Never mind," you murmur, suddenly so tired. Of course he wouldn't understand why you wouldn't want to ask for help. Your Fontainian was still in it's learning stage, and while you could ask a couple of questions with a thick accent, you had no idea how to ask someone to lead you home.

Plus, wouldn't it reflect badly on him, to have a wife who didn't even know how to return home? But you supposed, if it didn't matter to him, then it shouldn't matter to you.

"I'll see you at home, then," you murmur, turning on your heel to leave.

It was the last thing you wanted to do at the moment. The rain seemed to be coming down even harder, you could hear the thunderous roar of rain against the roof as you went to the main door.

A little more rain wouldn't hurt, and you were pretty sure you knew the way home from here.

You step out into the rain, but surprisingly, you don't get any wetter than before. The rain hits something above you, and you glance up to see an umbrella.

Neuvillette stands slightly behind you, umbrella extended over you. You still hadn't stopped shivering, teeth clattering together. Neuvillette almost looks pained as he looks down at you.

"You'll catch your death out here," he says, as though that explains everything.

And then, in true Fontaine fashion, he extends his arm out to you to link your own through, a true and proper escort.

You take it, if only for the stability. And maybe the warmth. And also the umbrella is hardly big enough for two, if you don't stand close, then Neuvillette would get wet as well.

That's the only reason.

He makes quick work of the walk home, and you were almost dismayed by how close you had been the entire time. By the time you walk up the steps, still shivering from the cold, the rain had finally stopped, the sky clearing to reveal the stars.

"I shall make you something to eat while you dry off," he says, as though it is the law of the land.

You wonder if that is how he sounds in court, when he's trying the cases. You almost want to argue just for the sake of it.

But being dry and having a warm meal sounds much too good to ignore, so you only nod, and go to change your clothes. You debate on taking a bath, the call of the warm water ends up being much too tempting for you.

You emerge feeling like a new person. The water washes away the feelings of the day, and the coldness in your bones. You emerge feeling like a new person, if not a bit more tired and ready for bed than before.

Neuvillette is true to his words. Your hair drips with water as you peek into the kitchen, only to find him sitting at the table, waiting, with two bowls of soup in front of him.

"Come," he says when you don't move forward. You do as asked, sitting beside him and inhaling the rich aroma of the soup.

You had found here that the food varied greatly from what you were used to in Liyue. It certainly wasn't bad, but it was an adjustment. Even the soup was a bit creamier than you were used to, but you ate it eagerly, allowing it to chase away whatever lingering chills the bath hadn't rid you of.

"I'd like to apologize," Neuvillette starts, his own food barely touched, like it's an afterthought for him.

You tilt your head, exhaustion falling over you from the soup and warmth. "For what?"

He looks embarrassed. It's a rather cute look on the normally stoic man. Neuvillette struggles for words, almost seeming to give the words spoken to you the same value that he gives to the court.

"I was not aware that you were struggling to adjust here, I should have foreseen such an event occurring."

He almost looks upset, suddenly. You understand, at least you think you understand. It must be hard having a wife who couldn't even navigate the city of your home.

"It's okay, I'll do better in the future," you reassure, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder as you stand.

It's the first bit of contact you've had since you were married and he placed a kiss upon your cheek at your parents badgering. He looks a bit annoyed though, so you retract your hand to not make him more uncomfortable.

"That's not what I meant. I meant that I should have been here to help you adjust."

"Oh," you say, honestly confused. "it's alright. You're very important here, I don't want to be a bother when you're so busy."

Your words seem to have the opposite of your intended desire. If anything, he looks more upset, leaving you with a rather sour taste in your mouth.

You seemed to be more of an inconvenience than you had even considered.

You hoped this wouldn't turn into an argument. You were tired from wandering and walking for hours, from being caught out in the rain. You rested your head on your hand, trying to think of something to say.

Before your tired mind could think of anything, Neuvillette sighed, a long suffering thing that sounded much older than he must be.

"You should go to bed."

You don't need to be told twice. You take your dish to the sink, leaving it there to be washed by you in the morning. Neuvillette rises, though it seems more to see you off than to actually leave.

"Good night, y/n," he says quietly, still as upset as before.

"Good night, monsieur Neuvillette."

You fall asleep as soon as you're tucked underneath the covers of your bed. You wonder if it's the bed that you're meant to share with your husband, but he never joins you.

And that's fine with you.

-x-x-x-x-

He's still there, in the morning.

It's a sight that makes you freeze coming out of your bedroom, just able enough to peek down the hall and see him in the same place as last night, at the kitchen table. He holds the paper in his hands, the same one that you've seen just about everyone in Fontaine obsessed with.

Did you wake up early? A quick glance at the time told you no, that in fact you had woken up later than normal. Neuvillette was meant to be long gone by now, off to court.

As though sensing your stare, the paper falls, and startling purple eyes lock onto you.

"Ah, you're awake."

You nod, because what else are you going to do? Neuvillette folds the paper back into its original shape.

"Let me know when you are ready to leave."

Well, you couldn't say you expected that to happen. You nod after a second, before disappearing to get yourself ready.

While you don't look your best, at least you aren't soaked and shaking. Really, the amount of time that you've spent with Neuvillette could be counted on one hand, and you did not like the thought of one of those times being when you were in such a sorry state.

A little bit later, you were back by Neuvillette, looking at him with nothing short of confusion as he prepares to leave.

Oh, the disappointment aches for a moment. Like a child being promised a treat only to have it taken away.

"Well? Come along then."

His voice snaps you out of your thoughts. You take a few, tentative steps forward, until he offers you his hand.

You take it, after a moment, brows furrowed with confusion.

"Don't you have court to attend to?" you ask, as he leads you outside.

"I have sent notice that I will be taking today off. I have recently become aware that my wife needs a tour of Fontaine, and I consider that a much more pressing item on my agenda."

Your cheeks color. You can't tell if it's at being called Neuvillette's wife, or from how he doesn't let go of your hand even when you walk outside.

Before you can ask him if he's sure, if he can really take time off, Neuvillette gestures down the street, and begins what has to be one of the most in depth tours of Fontaine to exist.

This time, getting lost in the sights and sounds is fun. Neuvillette explains every building you pass, the history behind it, and what is happening there now. He lets you pull him in random directions when something catches your eye, and answers every question that you can even think of.

It's fun. Neuvillette is well liked by the people, and suddenly that seems to mean you're well liked as well. The food vendors give you free samples, pressing them into your palm and insisting that you take it despite your protests.

Even the Melusine's stop, chatting with you more than Neuvilllette, much to his surprise. He even comments that you know their names, and seems very ashamed when you point out that you've spent more time with them instead of him.

You feel like you can actually navigate the city, by the time the sun is setting. Your bones ache from the exhaustion that the excitement has left you with. When Neuvillette notices, he starts herding you home, despite your protests.

The last thing you want is for the day to end. Going back to how it was before seems unbearable now that you know how it could be. If Neuvillette knows of your plight, he says nothing of it.

He simply wishes you a good night, and lets you head to bed.

If it's a dream, you hope that you will remember every detail of it.

-x-x-x-x-

Things don't change after that, much to your relief.

Neuvillette stays in the morning, talking with you sometimes. Most of the time he reads, while you make coffee for yourself, and subsequently him. He likes it with two sugars, no milk.

The information feels nice to have. Especially when, on the very, very rare occasions you wake up before him, you can have a hot cup of coffee waiting for him.

The little things before you grow before anything else. Conversations in the morning. Coffee. Neuvillette bringing you home treats that you love, especially the conch madeleines.

There are other things, as well. When you mention missing a certain dish from Liyue, Neuvillette goes out of his way to procure it for you. You're not sure how he manages to do it, but if it means you can get slow cooked bamboo shoot soup whenever you like, then you're happy not to know.

He comes home earlier, as well. As soon as the case is done for the day, it feels like he's on his way to find you. You're happy to do just that, telling him of everything you managed to do during the day, or whatever else is going on in your head that you want to share.

Neuvillette always listens. And he remembers. You mention once, in an off handed comment, about how beautiful you thought the rainbow roses of Fontaine were.

The next day, you woke up to a bouquet of them at your bedside.

You do your best to return the favor, going to collect him at the Opera house when his day is finished.

When you were younger, you read stories of people falling in love instantly, with a single look and it was easy from there.

You think now, as a married woman, that the stories are wrong. Love comes in the small gestures, in the moments spent together.

-x-x-x-x-

It's pouring rain outside. A heavy downpour that has been going on for the last hour.

It's also the time Neuvillette normally comes home, but it doesn't seem that way today. The change in routine throws you off more than you'd like to admit.

You wait another half hour before you grab your cloak, a heavy thing that Neuvillette insisted on buying you so you wouldn't get soaked in the rain any longer, and head out to the Opera House.

You're not too fond of the aquabuses here. They're faster than walking, but something about them feels so awkwardly slow. But with a bit of tension in your shoulders, you bite down the complaints and make small talk with the Melusine piloting the aquabus as you arrive.

Neuvillette only took you over here once, to show you the Fountain of Lucine. You suppose, on another level, it was also to make sure that you knew where the Opera House was in case you needed him and didn't want to get lost.

You're thankful for his planning.

Everyone else has already left, except for a very dedicated couple by the fountain, praying for blessings upon their child. You wonder if someday that will be you, but dismiss the thought with a blush.

It takes you much too long to find Neuvillette. For a man who cuts such an imposing figure, you wander around in the rain looking for him for much longer than needed. Eventually though, you find him at the back of the Opera House, standing in the rain as though he doesn't notice it.

"Neuvillette?" you call, quiet, as to not startle him. It seems you do so anyways, from how he jumps. "Are you alright?"

He nods, but doesn't speak. You reach out to take a gloved hand, everything about him feels cold.

You lead him back home, and he follows you as though he has no mind for anything else. It takes too long to get home but also not enough time. You hold his hand the entire way.

"Was court today rough?" you finally ask, when you're in the security of your shared home. Neuvillette lets out a hum, not agreeing but not disagreeing either.

You usher him to the bathroom to clean himself up, and go to make something warm, when the irony of the situation hits you all at once, because it must have only been a few months ago that Neuvillette did the same thing for you.

It felt nice to have the roles switched.

Neuvillette doesn't seem hungry, so you usher him into your own bed, since truthfully you've been suspicious that he's been sleeping on the couch or at his desk in his office to prevent you from feeling uncomfortable.

You sit down, and urge him to lay his head in your lap. You brush your fingers through his slightly damp hair, and you hum a Liyuen lullaby your mother used to sing to you.

Neuvillette never talks about court. You asked him once and only once about it, curious since everyone in Fontaine seemed to think that the cases were some kind of show. But Neuvillette had simply said that it was very usual, and not worth discussing.

At the time, you took him at his word. Now though, you wonder if it's something more.

"I believe an innocent man was sentenced today," Neuvillette says, after a moment. His voice is so soft, you almost can't hear it under the pouring rain outside.

"Is that so?" you ask, a silent prompt. Does he want to continue? Or leave it there?

He sighs after only a second, pressing further against your hand in his hair. Like a cat seeing attention.

"I'm sure it will be resolved soon, I simply need to investigate things more."

You nod, remaining silent. Neuvillette doesn't explain more, but eventually, as his breathing evens out, the rain comes to a stop outside.

You can't bring yourself to move. It would no doubt wake up Neuvillette, and that seemed like the last thing anyone needed. So you settled amongst the pillows, and close your eyes.

If you wake up tomorrow, still close to another and sleepy limbs tangled together, you said nothing of it. Neither does Neuvillette.

After that though, your bed becomes just the bed, and you're not opposed to that at all.

-x-x-x-x-

The Fountain of Lucine ends up being one of your favorite places in Fontaine. Not for any particular reason, you tell yourself, it's simply pretty to look at.

And that's not a lie. It is pretty to look at, and it's fun to visit and listen to expecting parents wish for good things for their children. It was nice to see the sights and sounds without the hustle and bustle of the city.

The first time you end up going out though, you can't say you had the most pleasant experience.

You had gotten the idea in your head, perhaps you were too bored lately, that you should visit Neuvillette at work and bring him lunch. So you packed a small bag, and made the journey.

Only to be stopped at the entrance of the Opera House by one of the gardes.

"Court is in session, no one is allowed in, miss, without a ticket."

Your head tilts to the side, truly puzzled. A ticket? People bought tickets to court, as though it was a show?

"I'm not going to see the court, I came to drop something off for Neuvillette," you explain to the man, holding up the small box.

The man eyes it with a bit of suspicion, and part of you almost wants to ask if he really thinks you've poisoned it. Another part of you is sure that if you ask, you will absolutely get accused of that.

"That's nice, miss, but you still can't go in. I'm sure you know monsieur Neuvillette has many admirers, and we can't stop court simply because you wish to give him a gift."

Wow. You weren't even sure how to unpack that. You crossed your arms over your chest, not budging.

"I am his wife, here to bring him lunch. Do you want to explain to Neuvillette tomorrow about how you banned his wife from visiting him.?"

The man, you still haven't even gotten his name yet, isn't looking at you any more. He's looking behind you, a look of mild panic on his face.

Oh, this was going to be just like one of those soap operas back in Liyue, wasn't it? You knew without looking who was going to be there.

"Monsieur Neuvillette!" he said, giving the salute of Fontaine. "I was just telling this young woman that we do not allow visitors during court."

"That is true," Neuvillette says, you can almost hear a bit of smile in his voice. "However, I think I can make an exception for my wife. Thank you though, I will handle it from here."

The man scurries away before you can say anything. If he had a tail, it would have been between his legs.

"I think you scared him," you said, turning to your husband.

You ignore your racing heart at hearing Neuvillette call you his wife for the first time. You couldn't stop the smile from spreading on your face though.

"I think if anyone scared him between the two of us, my dear, it was you," he muses, and yes, it is amusement you can hear in his voice.

You two stand there, smiling at each other for a moment before you remember just why you made the journey out here.

"Oh, I brought you lunch." You place the small package in his hand. "I'm sure you're busy here and I wanted to make sure you were eating. I didn't know I needed a ticket to get inside. How did you know I was here?"

"Ah, Aeife told me you had arrive, and I suspected that you would encounter a problem."

He gestures to the side, and sure enough, the small Melusine is there. She gives you a wave before going back to skipping and offering help to those who need it

"She's sweet."

"She is," Neuvillette agrees. "I think most of them like you more than me."

"Who wouldn't like me?"

The smile Neuvillette gives you almost makes you blush, but you barely manage to get a hold of yourself.

"Yes, they'd be fools not to like you."

And now you were blushing. You gently swatted Neuvillette's arm, and only received a chuckle for your antics.

"Thank you," Neuvillette says, genuinely. "I must return now, but I appreciate the thought."

A tiny sliver of disappointment ran through you, but you pushed it down, nodding your head. "Of course, of course. Don't let me keep you. Off you go now."

You made a little shooing motion, the smile on your face letting him know you were simply teasing. But he didn't leave.

"Any time you wish to come and see me, there will always be a ticket waiting for you at the booth." He gestures to the sales booth, which very much looked closed, but you didn't say that. "I'll be sure to tell you the next time Lyney and Lynette do their show."

You visibly perked up, which gained you a small chuckle. You hadn't been shy about saying you wanted to see the show, though apparently it was impossible to find tickets to it.

"Thank you, I'll be sure to take you up on that."

You stood up on your tip toes, pressing a brief kiss to his cheek. He seems surprised at the touch, but after a moment manages to compose himself, saying a quick goodbye before returning to work.

Aefie tugged at your skirt, a gentle motion almost as soft as a breeze. You knelt down to her level, allowing her to whisper in your ear.

"Thank you for making Neuvillette so happy."

-x-x-x-x-

You fell a lot, as a child, as all children do.

Scraped knees and bruised elbows. What is childhood without a few injuries? Without those precious moments that make them realize oh, sometimes life has pain.

The first time you heard of the concept of "falling in love" you had thought it was like that. Falling on the ground and bruising your knees.

Now though, you think it is something else. Like the feeling of falling into a warm bed at the end of a long day.

Neuvillette is already in bed tonight, laying on his side facing where you normally lay. You tip toe over to the bed, just in case he's already fallen asleep.

He hasn't though, and your eyes meet his vivid purple ones as you lay down, facing him as well.

"I thought you were asleep," you murmur. Tentatively, you reached for him, only to have him meet you halfway. Your fingers laced together with his.

"I was waiting for you."

Such a simple declaration is enough to make you blush. A year of marriage and he still managed to make you blush.

"I'm here now."

Something changes in his eyes, and he looks at you, so, so, fond. "You are here."

You both lay there, either unwilling or unable to fall asleep, feeling so close but somehow still so far away. It's one of the nights when the rain isn't falling. When you first came to Fontaine, it felt as though the rain never stopped, but now it's only occasionally.

"You never answered my question, you know."

Neuvillette frowns for a moment, thinking. You take pity on him before he can worry if he made you upset.

"I asked if you were kind," you murmur, gentle.

It felt like ages ago, talking to a stranger without knowing who they were. Neuvillette looks at you, waiting, knowing you weren't finished.

You had been so worried about everything. And though Sedene had told you, you didn't know if you could believe it or not.

"And what have you found?" Neuvillette asks. His voice is small, as though he's actually afraid of how you might answer.

You don't hesitate.

"You are," you whisper. You inch closer, knees brushing against his own. "You are so, so kind."

He kisses you. Lips sliding against your own, slotting there as though they were meant to be there. And desperately, with almost a full year of longing in you, you kiss back.

You're breathless by the time that he pulls back. He looks the same, and for the first time you see a small blush on his cheeks.

"I love you," he whispers, a reverent noise just for you.

You smile, leaning in to kiss him again.

"I love you too."

#genshin impact x reader #neuvillette #genshin x reader #neuvillette x reader #genshin impact #I might write more for this if it's wanted!#it was really fun to write #Neuvillette is just such perfect husband material

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callsign-datura · 11 months ago

Text

putrid pride

pairing: simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader warnings: ghost being a dick, unrealistic character, sexual tension, oral (f receiving), ghost not fucking you as a punishment for you being a little brat a/n: he's had me in a chokehold for the past year. i kinda want to do a character analysis series not gonna lie song: get stoned ~ hinder

Sometimes you wondered why Price assigned you to be his partner. He thought it'd be a good learning experience for the both of you. Since you were a sergeant you were bossed around by everyone else already, and you've only been there for a few weeks. In most missions you've been assigned, Ghost has been part of it one way or another and you noticed that he treated you differently than his mates. Whether it was the fact you were a woman or the fact you were a talented sniper, or what, you didn't know. He always made these little jabs at you that could be passed off as light teasing or playful banter. You felt a bit crazy for thinking he was being rude to you because he wasn't rude to anyone else; why you? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Damnit," he grunted, his back towards you. "You always fuckin' do this." His tone was laced with anger and venom, and your heart sunk. "You never fuckin' listen." he hisses, turning around and taking a few steps towards you. The look in his eyes pissed you off. You made the right decision, or so you thought. Sure, you disobeyed his direct orders and nearly got yourself killed, but you completed the objective and came back in one piece. You got the intel, confirmed the target's identity and best of all, did it quick and quiet. Why was he angry? You did everything you thought you were supposed to, but here he had you, in his office and standing in front of his desk and staring at him blankly.

"You never fuckin' listen, always disobey my orders despite th' fact your ass would be dead right now if it weren't f'me." His accent is thick, his voice steadily rising as he gets more pissed. "Jesus fuckin' Christ!" In truth, he didn't even know why he was so angry. Was it because you had disobeyed his orders again, or was it the fact you almost got yourself hurt? Or maybe it was the fact you did the mission better than he would have? "I don't know why you're so intent on breakin' the goddamn rules, but it's gettin' old." He snaps, brown eyes piercing yours as he splays his hands out on the surface of his desk, leaning forward so his face was inches from yours, his breath fanning over your face, hot and smelling faintly of alcohol.

"Look, Lieutenant. I may have disobeyed your orders but I saved lives in the process--" "Nearly losing your own." "But I completed the objective." "But you put yourself in danger." "I came back in one piece, didn't I?" "Barely. You escaped that goddamn explosion by a hair." He hisses through gritted teeth, leaning back and putting his hand in his pocket. "You're always so reckless. Do you have no sense of self-preservation?" "You're one to talk about self-preservation," you snort, your eyes widening slightly in disbelief at the mention. "Don't tell me you've already forgotten the time you hopped in front of a bullet to keep a sergeant from taking it?" His eyebrows knit together and his eyes narrowed. "I knew what I was doin', girl. Don't question me or my choices. It's not your fuckin' place to do so."

You snorted again. "Oh, yeah? Don't like it when I call you on your bullshit, huh? If you would have done this, we would have been expected to thank you and ignore the fact you could have been killed. But the moment I do it, you get on my ass."

"I am your lieutenant. I make decisions, you follow them. You don't question why I do what I do. When I tell you to do something, you do it without a second thought. When I order you to not engage, you do not engage." He spits, his eyes narrowing further and his chest tightening in barely contained anger. "You're lucky I don't fuckin' suspend you. The decision you made was a thoughtless, reckless and stupid one." "At least Price would understand where I'm coming from."

His eyes widen, and he laughs. "You think he'd take your side?"

"I think he'd understand why I did what I did. I think he wouldn't give me bullshit for making the right decision."

"Well, sweetheart, that's the thing. He isn't your CO, I am. So if I'm givin' you bullshit for makin' a decision, you stand there and take it and make a goddamn change." You shake your head and laugh. "I know what I did was right. I'm not going to stand down just because you think my execution wasn't proper." He's practically fuming now. He feels his chest tighten further, and he balls his hands into fists. "You're such a brat. For what? Just because you wanna be right?" He steps around the desk, moving and getting in front of you, his frame towering over yours. "You wanna be right so goddamn bad because you're new, huh? You don't want people to think you're weak, hm?" He leans in, his face inches from yours once again as his hands tremble at his sides. Your eyes focus on his brown ones, piercing with a newfound depth you haven't seen before. You take in a breath through your nose and against your will you take notice of his cologne; woody, citrusy. He's so close to you. You feel your body start to tingle a bit from the closeness and the tension.

"Oh, well, look at that..." His head tilts, his eyes softening for just a moment. "Now you've got nothin' to say?" He says, his tone faintly mocking as he backs you up against the wall. He's painfully aware of this situation and he's painfully aware of the source of these feelings, but he's refusing to see it. He's stubborn and he knows you are too. "Nothin' to fuckin' say cause I'm in your face?" He growls, his gaze burning holes into you. He brings his hands upwards and cages you against the wall, looking down at you with an intense mix of lust and anger. To him, it's just pure emotion and you feel slightly intimidated by this newfound situation. So, you do the only thing you know how to do. "Fuck you," you hiss, moving onto your tiptoes to get in his face in return. A chuckle leaves his throat in a growl and he doesn't back down. If anything, he finds this show of dominance to be... charming. Endlessly fucking irritating, but charming. Some twisted part of him wants to crush it; crush your insubordination, make you finally respect him. He takes in a breath and the hairs on his neck stand up as your scent wafts over his senses, and his eyes twitch briefly before he grunts and moves closer. "So fuckin' feisty. But we both know you've got nothin' more than bark." He murmurs, his voice raspy and low and with a tone that makes your heart thump in your chest and your cunt pulse between your legs. Despite yourself, you feel him leeching the fight from your body. You growl slightly. "You don't know what you're talking about," you grumble, your tone just as low as his as your gaze searches his for something other than this overwhelming lust.

"I think I do." He murmurs, tilting his head and leaning in so he's right near your ear. You ball your hands into fists. "I don't think you can fight me, cause you don't wanna. You like it when we get into this, don't you?" He questions, one of his hands coming up and cupping your cheek. "I think you like seein' me pissed. I think you like bein' a fuckin' brat 'cause you know it irritates me, an' you wanna see what I'll do..." He smirks, and you can hear it in the way he talks. "Well, I think I know how to solve your little problem now, eh?" He moves, his hand coming down and cupping your throat, applying gentle pressure to keep you against the wall as he moves back, pulling his mask over his nose and leaning back in to nip at your earlobe. You grunt and you feel yourself melting in his grasp. His other hand comes and holds your hips, his fingers slipping underneath the hem of your shirt as he tilts his head and kisses at the flesh of your neck his hand doesn't engulf. Your body heats up and you suck in a gasp, tilting your head back slightly and unintentionally revealing more of your neck to him. "Mm-hmm." He murmurs. "Yeah, all bark, no fuckin' bite. You wanna be all tough? Takes more than just an act, sweetheart," he grumbles, words punctuated by rough little nips to the flesh of your throat as he withdraws his hand and slides it down your side and to your hips. He moves and lifts your shirt and once again, despite yourself, you lift your arms to make it easier for him. He throws it aside and his gaze travels over you hungrily, focusing on the curves of your chest and your waist, and the way your jeans sit on your hips. He grunts quietly and dives back into your neck, holding your hips and drawing you against him as he starts kissing and biting at your neck with renewed vigor. One of his hands slides to your ass, giving a little squeeze as he hoists you up, still assaulting your neck with kisses and bites. You whine out at him, the sensation making you shudder. He chuckles against your flesh and his other hand is already working at the button of your jeans.

He sets you down, working your pants and panties down your legs, tugging them off hastily before he's kneeling in front of you. A wave of embarrassment comes over you as he gazes up at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He grunts slightly and his gaze flickers to your cunt. He slides his hand up the back of your thigh and down before cupping your knee and pulling your leg up and to the side, humming in satisfaction at the way you follow suit and open yourself up for him. His gaze focuses on your cunt, glistening with your slick. You're soaked. He sees it, and he smirks and chuckles a bit when he sees your cheeks flush red. "Pretty fuckin' cunt," he murmurs, before leaning forward and letting his eyes flutter shut as he drags his tongue along your folds, letting out another hum as he tastes you. He grunts and his grip on your leg tightens, his free hand cupping your ass and squeezing as he slips his tongue between your folds and drags it upward along your clit. He swirls it with the tip of his tongue before closing his lips around it to suck gently, grunting as he tastes you and he feels you tremble. Your eyes roll back in your head and you tilt your head back against the wall, your hips arching forward in attempt to get more of that stimulation. He chuckles at your eagerness, giving your ass another squeeze. "Patience, dear." He murmurs against your cunt, before swirling his tongue over your clit with ease and pushing it down, teasing your hole with it before he pushes it inside briefly, moving back up to flick his tongue over your clit in a new pattern that has you trembling and whimpering in seconds. The hand gripping your ass comes to your cunt, and he rolls his pointer and middle fingertip against your hole, gathering your slick. You jolt at the feeling of his cool flesh and you whimper eagerly yet again, a harsh gasp leaving your lips as he pushes those fingers into you. Your walls make an embarrassingly wet noise as he sinks his fingers into your plush heat, and your face flushes and warms up. You're too distracted about how good it feels. He grunts in satisfaction once more, curling his fingers and brushing the tips against that spot along your walls that has your vision going white.

At the same time, he swirls his tongue a bit faster over your clit, using the opportunity of dual stimulation to send you spiraling. And he does, successfully. Your leg trembles and tenses, and your walls squeeze around his fingers as he laps at your cunt like a man starved. He grunts against you as you mewl and the coil in your belly tightens before releasing. Within seconds, you're coming undone on his fingers your back is arching, your hips are bucking, and your hands are pulling him closer. Your vision goes white and you throw your head back, your lips falling apart in a whine of his name, your fingers grasping at the fabric of his balaclava. Your walls tighten again on his fingers, and he helps you ride the orgasm out before he's gently pulling away and dragging his fingers out of your sensitive cunt. You pant and tilt your head forward, watching him withdraw his fingers from you. You whimper at the feeling and you tense up, your gaze flickering to his mouth. You're sensitive, but as you watch him kneeling under you, you find yourself wanting more. He smirks as he notes the way you're looking at him. It's taking a lot of restraint for him to not bend you over his desk and pound you senseless, but... he has a point to make here. He gets to his feet and he looks down at you, cupping your face and placing a chaste kiss to your forehead. "Get yourself dressed. Y've got some training to do." You swallow and blink up at him. "W-Wait... that's... it? You're not gonna--" "Fuck you?" He laughs, as if the suggestion is odd. Your face flushes in embarrassment. "Not after the way you've been actin', love." He murmurs, kissing your forehead. "If you start behavin', then maybe I'll consider givin' you what you really want, eh?"

#ghost x reader #ghost mw3 #ghost mw2 #ghost smut #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley #callsign datura

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midnight-shadow-cafe · 2 days ago

Text

Beneath the Apron

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

AU: Baker!Simon

Warnings: Fluff, light teasing, mutual pining

Author’s Note: Simon Has me in a chokehold, tbh I need more baker Simon-

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The first time you walked into Simon Riley’s bakery, it was pouring rain. Not a gentle drizzle, but a torrential downpour that left you drenched from head to toe. You ducked inside, shivering and muttering curses under your breath, only to freeze when you realized you weren’t alone.

Behind the counter stood a man who looked like he belonged in a different time and place—broad-shouldered, with sharp features and piercing dark eyes. He stared at you for a moment, silent, as water dripped from your hair onto the floor.

“Uh… sorry,” you stammered, clutching your soaked bag to your chest. “I’ll just…” You gestured vaguely toward the door.

“Don’t be daft,” he said, his voice a low rumble with a thick accent. “Yer already in ‘ere. Might as well dry off.”

Before you could argue, he disappeared into the back and returned with a towel. He tossed it to you without ceremony, then leaned against the counter, watching as you awkwardly patted yourself dry.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, feeling strangely self-conscious under his gaze.

“Coffee?” he asked, already reaching for a mug.

“Oh, no, I—”

“Yer freezin’. Coffee,” he said firmly, leaving no room for debate.

A few minutes later, you were sitting at a small table near the window, a steaming cup of coffee in front of you. The rain hammered against the glass, but the warmth of the bakery and the rich aroma of freshly baked bread made it feel like a haven.

“Don’t get many people comin’ in this time o’ day,” he said, breaking the silence.

“Well, I wasn’t exactly planning to stop,” you replied, smiling faintly. “The weather had other ideas.”

He grunted—his version of a laugh—and you found yourself oddly charmed by the sound.

After that, you started coming in more often. At first, it was just for the coffee—well, that’s what you told yourself. But it wasn’t long before you found yourself lingering, chatting with Simon between customers and slowly peeling back the layers of his quiet, guarded personality.

---

One morning, you walked in to find him hunched over a tray of cookies, his brow furrowed in concentration. He glanced up as the bell jingled, his expression softening slightly when he saw you.

“Late today,” he commented, his accent turning the words into a soft rumble.

“Had a meeting,” you replied, dropping into your usual seat. “But I couldn’t skip my daily dose of grumpy baker charm.”

Simon snorted, shaking his head. “Dunno why you keep comin’ back.”

“Maybe I like watching you scowl at dough,” you teased, resting your chin in your hand.

He gave you a mock glare, but there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Yer lucky I make good coffee.”

---

One quiet afternoon, you caught him humming to himself. The bakery was empty except for the two of you, the soft rhythm of his movements lulling you into a comfortable silence. Then you heard it—a low, quiet hum, almost imperceptible over the sound of the mixer.

“Is that… singing?” you asked, looking up with a grin.

Simon froze, his hands stilling mid-knead. “It’s not.”

“It so is!” you said, laughing. “What was it? Some folk song?”

“Shut it,” he muttered, though the tips of his ears turned red.

You leaned forward, propping your elbows on the counter. “Come on, Simon. Give me a performance. I’ll even clap.”

“Yer impossible,” he grumbled, but there was a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

---

Another time, you showed up with a batch of cookies you’d tried to bake yourself. They were… well, let’s just say they weren’t exactly bakery quality.

Simon picked one up, inspecting it with a raised brow. “What’s this supposed to be?”

“A cookie,” you said defensively.

“Looks like a rock,” he deadpanned.

You huffed, crossing your arms. “Well, excuse me for not being a professional.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “S’alright. Can’t all be as talented as me.”

“You’re insufferable,” you muttered, but you couldn’t stop the smile creeping across your face.

Simon took a bite of the misshapen cookie, chewing thoughtfully. “Not bad,” he said finally.

“Really?” you asked, brightening.

“No,” he replied, smirking.

---

One morning, the bakery was unusually quiet. You sat at your usual spot, sipping your coffee and watching Simon move around the kitchen. His hands were deft and sure, rolling out dough and piping frosting with an ease that came from years of practice.

“You ever sit down?” you asked suddenly.

“Don’t have time,” he replied without looking up.

“You’ve got time now,” you pointed out.

Simon paused, a tray in his hands. He stared at you for a moment, then sighed. To your surprise, he placed the tray on the counter, untied his apron, and sat down across from you.

“Didn’t think you’d actually listen to me,” you said, raising an eyebrow.

“Figured it’d shut you up,” he said, though his tone was more amused than annoyed.

“You’re full of charm, aren’t you?” you shot back, smirking.

Simon shook his head, leaning back in the chair. Up close, he was even more intimidating—broad shoulders, strong jaw, and those dark eyes that seemed to see straight through you. But there was a softness to him, too, in the way he rested his arms on the table, his posture relaxed for once.

“You come here every day,” he said after a moment. “Why?”

The question caught you off guard. You hesitated, unsure how honest you wanted to be.

“Well,” you started, stalling for time, “the coffee’s good. The croissants are amazing. And the company’s not bad, either.”

Simon raised an eyebrow. “Not bad?”

“Okay, fine,” you admitted, leaning forward. “The company’s great. Even if you’re a little grumpy.”

He chuckled softly, the sound low and rumbling, and your heart skipped a beat.

“Grumpy, huh?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

“Very,” you said, grinning.

Simon didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he studied you for a moment, his dark eyes scanning your face like he was trying to figure something out.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” he said finally, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t catch it.

Your breath hitched, and before you could think of a reply, the bell above the door jingled, signaling another customer. Simon stood, tying his apron back on with practiced ease.

“Stay as long as you like,” he said over his shoulder, the hint of a smile on his lips as he walked away.

And just like that, he was back to being the mysterious baker, leaving you sitting there with a fluttering in your chest and a stupid grin on your face.

I hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

#x reader #141 x reader #tf 141 #task force 141 #tf 141 x reader #cod 141 #mw2 141 #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x y/n #simon riley cod #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost

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ghost-in-the-hall · 1 year ago

Text

Fall For Me (Poly! Sleep Token x Fem! Reader) - Part I

Well, it happened... After trying to evade the hype for so long they finally got me 😂😂 This story has had me in a chokehold (haha, get it?) since I started toying around with the idea of it. Hopefully you guys enjoy it, let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list for future chapters and/or Sleep Token one shots!

WARNINGS: None

Part II

My Masterlist! ~ AO3 Link!

Credit to @spookyghostjelly for beta reading, ily bb 💗💗💗

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

You sat with your feet propped up on the counter, one of the magazines you had yet to sell spread open on your lap. "Be fashion forward this fall." You read out loud to the empty store in a mocking tone as your eyes grazed over the pictures of chunky sweaters, jeans, and boring, brown leather boots. The bell over the door jingled as a customer entered the store, your eyes darted up, expecting one of your regulars. You were met with the sight of someone in a black sweatshirt with the hood pulled up over their head. 'Great,' you thought to yourself, 'just when I thought I was going to have an easy evening.' You watched the man carefully, waiting to see what exactly he was going to stick in his pockets. Now, you normally turn a blind eye to shoplifters up to a certain extent, everyone deserves to have something to eat. But, being an independently owned store you could only take so much of a loss on your inventory. To your surprise, the man didn't pick up a single item. He took his time looking over the contents of each shelf, his hands never leaving his sweatshirt pocket. "Can I help you find anything, sir?" His head turned slightly in your direction, but not enough for you to see his face.

"What time do you close?" You were caught off guard by his British accent, it was an uncommon occurrence to get outsiders in your small backwoods town.

"Eight o'clock." He nods his thanks and hurriedly exits your store, almost bumping into one of your regulars on the way out.

"Everything alright?" He asks as the strange visitor leaves your store.

"Do you know him?" You ask quietly, as if he would somehow be able to overhear you despite having rounded the corner of the building already.

"Yeah, he's one of those… those cultists that set up shop in the woods." He explains. You were a bit shocked at the realization. You had been seeing headlines in the local newspaper for months as curiosity rose around the small group of men that had built a few Cabins on the very edge of town. Reporters didn't dare venture into their camp for an interview, but that didn't stop them from snapping a few pictures from the safety of the treeline. Four cabins sat at each corner of a small clearing, a large fire pit dominated the center. From what you could make out they seemed to have some sort of root cellar and a lackluster garden, which would explain why you hadn't seen any of them in person until this afternoon. "You be careful, (Y/N). Freaks like that might just try to sacrifice you to some goat demon they worship." He warns. You can't help but roll your eyes at the outlandish statement.

"Mark, those boys haven't done a single thing to bother anyone since they got here. They've been out there for months, if they were going to take someone they would've done it by now." You argue.

He chuckles, "Trust me darlin', I hope you're right. But until then me and a lot of other folks around here plan on keeping a close eye on them. You'd do best to stay away from them."

"You think I can't take care of myself?" You challenge, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Now, Miss (Y/N), you and I both know you'd beat my ass to next Sunday if that's what I was implying." The two of you shared a laugh. "I just don't want something bad to happen, that's all. These strange men show up out of nowhere one day and no one knows where they came from, hell none of us have ever seen their faces. They all wear these black masks, least that's what the reports are saying. You can never be too cautious."

"I'll take my chances." You smile politely in an attempt to get him off his soap box. "Now, I take it you're here for your pack of Marlboros."

"Yes ma'am, and an extra one for Donnie if you don't mind." He responds with a nod as he fumbles for his wallet in his back pocket.

"You got it boss." The rest of your evening was spent rather uneventfully, save for the fact that you would practically jump out of your chair every time the door opened. You glanced up at the clock, there was about twenty minutes left until you closed. "Maybe he decided to not come back." You shrug. Moments later an old, beat up pick up truck rumbled into the parking lot. You watched as the driver got out, his head dipped low to hide his face in the hood of his black sweatshirt. He pushes through the door, the jingle of the bell the only sound to cut through the tense silence. "Welcome back." You tried to sound friendly despite your unease. He nods at you in response, not saying a single word as he makes his way quickly and directly to everything he needs. He approaches the counter, unloading his arm load of supplies before taking a step back. "You got a name to go with those big, broad shoulders of yours?" You ask in a bit of a teasing tone, trying to do what you could to lighten the mood. He remained silent, despite the fact you couldn't see his face you couldn't escape the feeling of his piercing gaze. You opened a bag, carefully organizing his contents inside. "$18.75, sir." He slaps a twenty dollar bill on the counter, not even waiting for his change as he grabs his bag and flits out the door. You watched as he drove off, not sure exactly what you were supposed to make of that interaction. You had a similar occurrence every day for almost a week. He would come in, grab an armful of groceries, put down his money, and he left. You would try and greet him whenever he would come in your store, it was always met with a curt nod.

"Vessel." You froze as he finally spoke up. You looked up, your eyes met with 6 slits on an odd looking mask. "You can call me Vessel." You couldn't think of how to respond at first. He had barely acknowledged your existence before tonight, what had changed?

"Vessel… (Y/N)." You stick out your hand to shake his. "It's nice to finally meet you." You smile as his hands clap into yours.

"You're different from the other people we've run into from town." He remarks.

"The reporters?"

"Some of them, a few others we just happened to cross paths with." You could feel him studying you. "You don't seem scared."

"Vessel, you've been coming in here for over a week now. If you were going to try and hurt me you would've done it by now." You notice the corner of his mouth quirk up in a smile.

"I guess you have a point." He chuckles. You finish scanning his items and give him his total. He places the money down on the counter and picks up his bag.

"How come you never take your change?" You ask as he's almost out the door.

"I know you run this place by yourself, think of it as me tipping a small business." He flashes a brief, brilliant smile at you. You try to hide your shy smile by fixing up your register. "Oh, and (Y/N)?" You glance back up at him. "It's nice to finally meet you too."

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

Tag List: @herripinkle @mustluvecho @jumpcauseimfroggy (If you would like to be tagged for Sleep Token stuff let me know!)

#sleep token fanfiction #sleep token #sleep token x reader #vessel #vessel x reader #ii x reader #iii x reader #iv x reader #sleep token fan fic #my writing #my fanfiction

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ya-zz · 1 month ago

Note

Howdy, long time enjoyer of your writing, I too adore Ramattra with my whole heart, however, Hazard has me in a chokehold as well. That being said, would you be interested in writing either HCs for them (or a drabble for one of them) helping their S/O with a rough period? Your girl is suffering ATM and could use it.

Thank you so much,

Jaki 💖

RAMATTRA

You were quiet and Ramattra noticed instantly. From the usual bubbly person to a hollow shell of your former self. He places a hand on your shoulder, a silent gesture to show that he's there for you.

He listens to the sigh that escapes you, watching as you fall against his arm.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asks, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

"No, not really."

He hums, vocaliser rumbling gently. "I will be here if you want to talk."

"Thank you."

Ramattra doesn't push much further, knowing that you'll talk when you're ready. He listens to your steady breathing before it changes to shuddering and sniffles. Without a second thought, he places a hand on your head, patting gently, though he doesn't say anything.

The omnic stays silent, just his presence alone was soothing enough to you, but the pain in your chest was still overbearing.

"I am here." He speaks calmly.

"I know." You sniffle. "Being here is enough."

"Then I will stay as long as you need."

HAZARD

If there was one thing that Findlay knew, it was that you were not yourself. He saw how you ducked away from others, he heard the sobs in your quarters when he passed by, yet, the man didn't want to intrude.

It went on for a few days, the hiding away and isolating yourself, that Findlay was growing agitated. That same evening, he's walking the same hallway and just as he's about to knock on the door to your room, that same door opens.

His eyes go wide as he stares down at you, much like your eyes widen when you look up at him, not expecting the taller man to be stood at your door.

"Hey..." He stutters, hand scratching his arm. "You've been avoiding us lately."

"I've had a lot going on."

"Wanna talk about it?" There was a gentleness in his tone, something he rarely brought out.

With a hesitant nod, you let him into your room. The both of you sit on the edge of the bed and without thinking, you start to open up about your issues and Findlay listens.

He doesn't say a word, not until you're all teary eyed and struggling to speak through boken sobs.

"Hey now. Don't get yourself worked up about it." His accent is soft, easier to understand. "You have people here who care, who will help you. You just gotta open up to us."

He smiles down at you as he continues to speak. "Chin up, kid. I ain't going anywhere. You can always rely on me."

"Thanks, Fin."

"Of course. Now, let's get you something to drink, yeah?" You knew that didn't mean coffee or tea. "And I ain't taking no for an answer."

#overwatch #ramattra #ramattra x reader #hazard #hazard x reader #findlay docherty #ramattra drabble #hazard drabble #overwatch fanfiction #overwatch 2 #yazzfics

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ledder4 · 6 months ago

Text

simon ghost riley snapped but not the way he tought....

anypov

wordcount:1014

The moment y/n joined 141, Ghost had been itching to put them in their place.

His hands were hot with the need to put his hands around their throat and squeeze until their eyes rolled back into their skull. Ghost wanted to feel y/n's throat spasm under his palms, struggling to bring in air to their lungs. He wanted to feel the beautiful transition of their heat building up in their throat before they suddenly went limp and that warmth dissipated into a lifeless cold that could only be associated with death.

It was no secret around the base that Ghost is a feared man. And where he was feared, he was respected. But y/n let it known pretty early on with their arrival that they weren't scared of him. They didn't cower when Ghost stood in front of them. y/n only smirked and to his face, disrespected him. They actively challenged his authority. And that, aggravated Ghost like no other.

And he couldn't just right out kill y/n. Not without proper planning, that is. But how he ached to put them in torment and shove them six feet underground. Ghost hatred for y/n was not natural. It was borderline obsessive and creepy. It built a fire inside him and left him burning with untamed flames. It would be a matter of time until he snapped.

And snapped he did.

Just not in the way Ghost originally thought it would. However, somehow, this was a far better alternative.

It's late in the evening. Dinner was being served in the mass hall so the locker room area was empty. Ghost stood at the far end, his lower half being blocked by two large crates stacked on top of each other. His gloved fingers curled around in y/n's hair, tugging it harshly onto their skull. Ghost kept their face completely flushed against his pubic area, their mouth spread around his throbbing cock.

Beads of sweat rolled down his bulging arms and the seams of his balaclava clung uncomfortably onto his skin but it was a sensation Ghost had already gotten accustomed to. His knuckles were beaten raw and stained with blood that wasn't his. y/n was certainly more roughed up than they should be. They have been on the receiving end of his unfairness.

However, this was attractive. y/n was really attractive right now as the blood trickled down their nose and mingled in with the slobber that dripped off their chin. It made his gut twist with arousal. Ghost felt unbearably hot and this wasn't the type of heat he was familiar with when it came to y/n. Two types of burning emotions merged and combined as one. A lustful hatred. And it was all directed towards y/n.

The fucking brat and bane of his existence y/n.

Impatience put him in a chokehold and his left hand was reaching up to push the seam of his balaclava and roll the damp fabric until it bunched around his nose. Ghost's lips parted to breathe easier as his hand violently yanked onto y/n's hair to pull them off his cock. His girth was slobbered by saliva and it was slightly glistening by the dim overhead lighting. y/n coughed harshly, holding onto their throat where his cock was once lodged and Ghost watched them struggle to catch their breath with perverse satisfaction.

God, he was fucked up.

But Ghost couldn't find it in himself to care that much. He has been wanting to murder this slag with his bare hands and since he couldn't do that, this will have to suffice. His hand slid down and it curled around y/n's nape, cranking their neck back so he could get a good view of those teary hazy eyes. They were so fucked out, absolutely wrecked, and Ghost almost chuckled at the sight.

It was amusing to see that it took so little to break them.

He raises a hand and harshly slaps it across y/n's face, sending their head sharply to the side. The sound of the impact echoed in the empty locker room and a redded print was already forming on their cheek. "Tongue out, don't make me force it out of ya," Ghost orders roughly, his accent thickening his words.

y/n eventually did as they were told and slowly lolled out their tongue. He quickly took advantage and roughly cupped their chin, holding their face steady as he leaned down. Ghost gathers his saliva into his mouth and spits directly onto y/n's mouth. His cock bobbed when he heard the pathetic sound of surprise punch out of their throat.

So fucking pathetic.

Ghost grabbed the middle of his shaft and wiped it over y/n's chin, coating the underside of his tip with the mixture of drool and blood that pooled there. He dragged his cockhead up until it connected again with y/n's soft tongue and he smears his combined spit, precum, and blood around the sergeant's tongue, watching closely as their eyes fluttered with distaste. "Gross, ain't it? You bets get used to it, slag," He says, bringing his other hand to fully grab onto y/n's head.

Ghost shoves his cock back into the wet heat and he breathily groans when he hears the wrenched gagging that bubbled from the sergeant's throat. He wets his lower lip and pulls back his hips only to shove back in to jackhammer his cock down y/n's throat. He was being driven by those sobbed whimpers and retches. Each noise that was pulled from y/n spurred him on. "Good enough to be a fleshlight, I'll give ya that much," Ghost huffs roughly, his thrusts were becoming sloppy as the pleasure wafted over his large frame.

Oh yeah,

this turned out to be a much better alternative than pummeling y/n with his bare fists. His very own cumdump, that's what y/n will be at the end of the day.

Simon Riley's toilet - a whore in the making.

made by ledder4

#call of duty #cod mw2 #cod x reader #smut #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader

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lostfairyart · 8 months ago

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Tom Ryder is such a pathetic lil guy but he’s MY pathetic lil guy. 💙🧡

When he came in with THIS LOOK, I went feral. That curly wind-dried hair??? The fluffy robe???? The yellow pants????? THAT GOSHDANGIT SMIRK. I’m never getting over this look. 😩 It has me a beautiful chokehold. 😍

Aaron totally nailed this role. He absolutely killed it. Idk what his accent was doing but it added to the humor and I’m so here for the theory that Tom’s British and bad at hiding his accent. 🤭 I think Aaron being in David Leitch films is my favorite genre of movies.

ANYWAY *giggles and twirls away, off to go make more fanart for The Fall Guy* ✨✨

#the fall guy 2024 #the fall guy #tom ryder #the fall guy fanart #tom ryder fanart #2024 movie #movie fanart #character fanart #digital illustration #screenshot redraw #aaron taylor johnson #aaron johnson #aaron taylor johnson fanart #fanartist #movie art #my art

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lunatic-pudge · 4 months ago

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General Medic Headcanons (Requested by poker_face_12)

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Am happy to be putting some TF2 stuff out. It was feeling wrong giving Postal so much attention and not TF2. I'm also thinking about writing some stuff for Duke Nukem. I know there's not really an audience out there but he and Nick from L4D2 have been holding me in a chokehold recently

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SFW:

-My baby boy, Medic, I feel like I don't give him enough attention.

-I promise, he isn't as crazy as you think he is. Maybe. He does care about his teammates, he'll never admit it though. Always trying to make sure they take care of themselves. Sometimes it can feel a bit preachy, but he means well, truly, he does. You just gotta look past his "I'm the doctor and know what's best" attitude. But he tends to neglect listening to his own advice, like the hypocrite he is

-I'm 85% confident he has a jar of lollipops in his lab. He sometimes has to use them as a bribe, and other times as a reward, but they're actually for him cause he has an insatiable sweet tooth. That sweet tooth of his will be the cause of his downfall also. He get rather excited when Pyro bakes, cause homie knows how to make some amazing hard candy and cakes. Pyro has even made Medic a cake for his birthday, and now Py gets special treatment when in for checkups and experiments

-Loves traveling. He's a nerdy German tourist and would clear out a gift shop if given the opportunity. When, he has time, he likes to go out and travel a bit. He's so nerdy when he's out and about, it's adorable. Probably takes Heavy with him as well cause why not

-God, this man would be petty for no reason. Also very good at holding a grudge. Ain't no way this man gonna forget what Scout did to him 3 years, 5 months, 2 weeks, and 4 days ago. He will forever hold that against him. I think Medic is just being a drama queen, but that's just me. It can be hard to make it up to him. The best way is to spoil him in desserts. Only then will he CONSIDER letting the grudge go.

NSFW:

-Medic is one horny merc. Practically ready to have a little bit of fun. He's very good at hiding it, though. It's dangerous, man. Once you sleep with this man, you'll never be the same (the medussy be crazy)

-I also wouldn't out it past him to have some rather intimate moments with each merc. Nothing full on sexual, but it most certainly borders on that line. I blame it on him being fine as fuck. He really is one of the most attractive mercs (they all are but work with me here), and combine that with the German accent, not even someone like Spy could fight the charm Medic has

-Also one kinky motherfucker. This man is willing to try almost anything and everything. Some of his kinks are doctor/patient roleplay, blood, needles, BDSM (huge sadist with a little bit of masochism in him), bodily fluids, thighs (especially think ones in thigh high stockings), high heels, whips, restraints, biting/marking, and sounding to name a few.

-Man's a freak and I love him for it

-He's very much a dom, rarely will he ever be a sub. When he's a sub, he's such a brat. He likes to be so defiant cause he lives for the punishments he'll recieve. He knows the type of games he's playing. Sly bastard

(That's all I got for now. Will post more when I get ideas)

#team fortress 2 #tf2 #tf2 headcanons #tf2 x reader #tf2 medic #tf2 medic x reader

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polakina · 11 months ago

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evenings in the east

pairing: javier escuella x reader

rating: explicit

outline: a job takes you to saint denis, and you take the perfect person for the job. who also so happens to be your favourite person in camp. one night away from camp couldn't do any harm, right?

warnings: fluff, flirting, cursing, pining, smut, unprotected sex, oral (fem recieving), canon typical racism, illegal shit (but we've all robbed someone in the games, let's be honest)

requests are open! hope you enjoy, petals <3

a/n: this is a looong one. and also my first rdr2 attempt (but there will be more). so i took my sweet ass time with it. javier has had me in a fucking chokehold for years and i'm not even complaining

masterlist

When the team wanted revenge, it was you and Arthur on a mission. When they wanted chaos, Sean was the best to take. But for a little finesse, Javier was your go-to man.

Walking over to him, you noticed how he put down his weapons on the table, his eyes already on you before you reached him. Poncho draped over his shoulder, hat tipped down half his face, only his lips on show, he looked so elusive. Unapproachable to an outsider. But not to you.

“Good morning, cariňa,” he said softly, the words rolling off his tongue. His accent was always a little huskier in the morning. You’d learned over the years you’d known him that he wasn’t a morning person at all. It wasn’t in his nature. You often had to kick him awake, and even then he’d roll over at you and curse in his native tongue. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

You smiled, taking a seat with two cups of coffee in your hands, sliding one across the wooden table to him. He nodded appreciatively, taking the cup and sipping a small amount. “Hosea’s sending me on a job. Should be fun. It’s a pretty lucrative deal, out in Saint Denis.”

“And…my role?” He asked, waving his hand in the air expectantly.

“Uhm…well…” you hadn’t really figured out his role. Just that you wanted his company for the job.

“Wait. Let me guess,” he smirked. “You want me to be the charmingly handsome distraction while you steal from a bunch of big money spenders in a high class bar?”

Rolling your eyes, you sipped your coffee. “Idiota. I need someone calm. Someone sneaky. You were my top pick.”

“Sneaky is not my talent, hermosa. I steal things with style,” he gestured to himself with his free hand, and you couldn’t help but chuckle. But he wasn’t wrong. He had a certain way about him. He always liked to put on a show. Not as much as Trewlany did, he was more subtle with his methods.

“Do you want the job or not, Javi?” You asked, leaning over the table, eyebrows raised.

He nodded almost immediately. “Very much so. Anything to get me out of this camp and away from sleeping in the tent next to Bill.” You laughed, and you both finished your coffee in comfortable silence.

Your relationship with Javier was a complicated one. And a long story. Your first encounter, he tried to rob you. It was a good lift. Any regular person going about their day wouldn’t have noticed. But the best of the best taught you to steal. To lie. To scam. So you noticed.

So when he tried to walk away, you didn’t stop him immediately, which confused Marston, who you were riding with. “What are you doin’, darlin’? He’s gonna get away.”

“I wanna have a little fun with it. I haven’t been robbed before,” you smiled sweetly, looking over at John innocently. “Wanna make it special.”

He looked at you in bewilderment. “You’re fuckin’ weird, doll.”

So you followed for a while, at a safe distance, while this mysterious Mexican rode his horse away, none the wiser. It’s only when he paced faster into a gallop that you finally decided it was time. Speeding past him on your horse you roped him with your lasso, tearing him off his horse and hitting the floor hard. Really hard.

John laughed at the man, and you dismounted your horse, wandering over to him, pulling your rope taut as you approached the thief.

“Hijo de puta, who the hell are you?” He groaned, rolling onto his back, his face painting a pained expression.

“The lady you robbed. Now give me back my shit and you can walk away from this,” you crouched down to his level, tipping your hat up to look him in the eye.

“How the hell do you know I robbed you? Huh? You accuse every Mexican you see of being a criminal?” His accent was thick, syllables rolling off his tongue effortlessly.

You smirked, flicking his hat off his head in one swift motion. “No, but I know a thief when I see one. Yeah, you’re a pretty good one, honey, but I’m better.” You held out your hand expectantly, and he sighed, reaching into his pocket and pulling a leather pouch out. It landed in your palm with a soft thud.

“You finished, darlin’? Or you wanna pack him up and take him with us? Either way, can we get moving? My ass hurts and it’s getting dark out.”

“Stop your whining, Marston,” you chuckled, standing up and releasing the man from your rope. What he’d said wasn’t actually a bad idea though. Taking him with you. He’d be an asset, sure. But it’d definitely take the camp a while to warm to the idea of it. You weighed the idea for a few minutes as the man stood up, brushing dirt off his knees. “What’s your name?”

He looked at you, slightly confused. You just lassoed him off his horse, and now you wanted to get to know him? “Javier.” You shook his hand, replying with your own name. He noted how gentle your voice was, as opposed to how harsh your actions were just moments ago.

“Where you headed?”

He walked back over to his horse, mounting it with a grunt and putting his hat back on his head, adjusting his poncho to sit comfortably. “Not sure yet. Wherever this road takes me, I guess. It was nice…getting thrown to the ground by you, I guess. But I got places to be. I’ll see you around.” He tipped his hat and jutted his heels into the sides of his horse.

“There’s a camp,” you said, watching him turn back to you with a curious expression. “About a mile east of Blackwater. You ever find your way out that direction, come introduce yourself. There might even be a place for you there.” He smiled and nodded before riding off west.

“Think that was a good idea?” John asked, walking his horse up next to you, looking down as you watched Javier leave. “Telling him where camp was?”

You shrugged, mounting your own horse and setting off into a trot back to camp. “Can’t do any harm, right? Besides, who knows? Maybe he really will stop by.”

He did. Two weeks later. He never ended up leaving. He became part of Van Der Linde’s most trusted and years later, still managed to prove himself one way or another.

“This dress hurts my lungs,” you complained. For the forty sixth time, Javier had been counting since you left camp in search of Saint Denis. “Can’t fucking breathe in this thing. How do ladies wear these all day?” You shuffled in your seat on the wagon, trying any way to get the pressure of this corset off your chest.

“Keep moving around and that corset is going to pierce an organ or something, hermosa,” Javier chuckled. He was lucky. He got to wear a suit and tie, and his hat, of course. What you wouldn’t give to switch this dress for your riding pants right about now. Or your hat. God, you missed your hat. You felt naked without it.

“I’ll pierce your organs with it if you keep laughing at me.”

That just made him chuckle even harder. “We’ve got to play the part. Distinguished members of society.” He looked over to you and was just met with a blank stare.

“I hate every word that just came out of your mouth,” you said, rolling your eyes. Coming into view was the city you were heading for. The tall industrial looking buildings, the rows and rows of streets and train tracks and stores. It was occupied by more people than you think you’d ever come across in your life. “Jesus, that place is huge.”

“Just look like you belong, we’ll be fine.” Javier patted your thigh comfortingly. It made your stomach flip.

Parking the wagon by the side of the saloon Hosea had told you about, you looked up at the mountain of a building. “How the hell are these buildings so tall?” You muttered to yourself. A quiet cough pulled you out of your thoughts and you looked to your right, where Javier was standing, a hand extended to help you off the wagon. “Such a gentleman, aren’t you?” You smiled.

“I’m always a gentleman, thank you very much,” he joked. “You’d do well to remember that.” Holding out his arm, you took it, looping your arm through his and making your way to the entrance. But he stopped just before opening the door, turning to you. “Hold out your hand.” You did, confused, but also trusting him completely. “Other hand, hermosa.” You switched for your left hand.

“What are you doing, Javi?”

He said nothing, slipping a ring onto your finger. A wedding ring, from the looks of it. Your confusion was now fully recognisable in your features. “Playing the part,” he replied, winking. He switched one of his own rings to his ring finger. Then he pushed the door open with a smile.

The hotel clerk gave you a strange look, but it immediately washed away when he saw your hardened glare. “Evening folks, how can I help you tonight?”

You took point on the situation, as planned. “Good evening, sir,” you beamed sweetly. “We’d like a room for the night. We were recommended this establishment by friends and our expectations certainly seemed to be met from just the look of this place.” Javier loved your way with words. You’d taken after Hosea in that regard, able to smooth talk your way into anything you wanted.

“Well, ma’am, we certainly do have rooms available. Is the room just for yourself, or is this…gentleman joining you?” He looked to Javier with uncertainty. Your blood boiled a little, and Jvaier’s finger interlaced with yours, squeezing your hand gently. He could sense anger in you.

“You mean my husband?” It felt strange saying such foreign words, but you powered through it. “Yes, he will. Is that a problem for you? Sir?” Venom laced that last word, and the clerk realised he fucked up. A lot.

“No, no of course not. Here, the key to your room,” he said, handing a key with the number 4C etched into the key chain. “And a bottle of wine at the bar, on the house.” You and Javier looked to one another, he smirked and turned back to the clerk.

“Make that a bottle of whiskey and you have yourself a deal, amigo,” he flashed a smile in the clerk’s direction. He still hadn’t loosened his grip on your hand yet, you’d eased into his touch over time.

“Of course, sir,” the clerk returned with an awkward, tight lipped smile, gesturing to the stairs leading to the first floor. “Your room is on the fourth floor, folks. Enjoy your night.”

You smiled sweetly, leaning over the desk, closer to the clerk until he saw the fire simmering in your eyes. It scared him a little. “Thank you, sir,” you spoke quietly, too quiet for Javier to hear. “But you insult my husband again, and I’ll take your tongue for good measure.” The clerk’s face drained of all life. You walked away, Javier leading you up the stairs.

“What did you say to him?” Javier asked, unlocking the hotel door and entering inside.

“Nothing, really,” you vaguely responded, “Just…commenting on his customer service.”

The bar was pretty quiet. A group of young ladies sat in the corner, eyeing up the married men who were sat on the right side of the bar, smoking and laughing amongst one another. It had been a long time since you’d been somewhere like this. So civilised. So populated with the high end of society. It made you uncomfortable, but your face read as calm. Collected. You belonged here. Javier guided you to the bar, his hand on the small of your back. You felt comforted by the brief touches.

Your targets were all around you. Rich folk visiting from New York for the yearly Saint Denis festival and theatre house. They came like clockwork, swaying through the city in their frocks and suits, casting eyes down at the lower class occupants as they sat by the road, only a few coins in their hats.

The bottle of whiskey was waiting for you on the bar, the one gifted from staff for your previously rude introduction with the clerk. The bartender poured two glasses of whiskey, adding ice for yours. You took a seat at the bar, Javier on your left, situated at the corner of the bar so he could see the entire room. You sat yourself where the mirror hanging on the back of the bar was situated, giving you a perfect view of those behind you.

“Some pretty good shit we could get off these people, I think,” Javier whispered, leaning close to you. You hummed a response, twisting the ring on your hand between your fingers. The metal felt strange, cold. But you enjoyed the feeling.

“Agreed. But we gotta keep it quiet. Split up, maybe?” You cast your eyes out to the unknowing victims you were planning to rob. The ladies in the corner had since turned their attention to Javier. Whispering words between them, they giggled, and you saw an opportunity. “Group of women, over my right shoulder. Seems you’ve got their attention. Maybe you should go say hi.”

He smirked, tipping his hat to the ladies with a flirtatious edge to his smile. You ignored the pang of jealousy that seeped through you. “What, and leave my lovely wife at the bar alone? That’d be a poor husband you’re making me out to be, amor.” He was seriously leaning into this act the two of you were playing out. You were eating up every second of it.

Turning to face him, you locked onto his eyes which were fully focused on you. “I’m sure I can handle myself, darlin’. Go mingle. Perhaps a kind gentleman will come over and give me a moment of his time.” His smile faltered at the thought of another man having your attention, but he brushed it away.

“I’ll keep an eye out, just be careful.”

Then he kissed your cheek and walked away. You were left sat there, stunned. But Javier had an enormous grin on his face as he walked away.

It didn’t take long for a drunken man to stumble over to you. But you ignored him, sipping your whiskey and occasionally sneaking a glance to Javier, who had all four women swooning at his charm. You’d noticed the way he’d taken their hands, slipping the bracelet off their wrist and pocketing it in swift, simple motions. You were glad to have brought him along. Anyone else would have been caught in an instant.

“Ma’am, how are you doing on this fine, lovely evening,” the man slurred, standing directly behind you. You looked into the mirror, seeing the tall, brutish looking fellow with glazed eyes, swaying slightly as he looked at you. You turned your head slightly to look at him.

“Just fine, sir. And yourself?” You turned to face him fully, but you caught Javier glancing over as you swivelled on your bar stool.in one hand, you held your almost empty whiskey glass, in the other, you were slowly reaching for the drunk’s pocket.

“Even better now that I’ve seen your pretty face. Say, what you doin’ out here all alone? That greaser you were with earlier left you. Suppose he wasn’t great company, was he? No surprise there.” Your pulse quickened, and your grip on your glass tightened.

“I think you should go find someone else to pester, honey,” your gaze darkened, and you retrieved everything you could from your pockets, slipping them into the pockets that Abigail had sewn into your dress for this mission. “I don’t care much for company right now.”

He just smirked. But there was no charm in it. It was an ugly smirk. A gap toothed grin that you would see again in your nightmares at some point, you were sure of it. “Come on, sweetheart, you’d love my company, I promise you.”

You turned back to the bar, slightly leaning over to get to the bartender’s attention, pointing to your glass for a refill. The bartender nodded, turning away from you to collect the bottle. But as you moved to sit back on your stool, you felt a large, warm slap on your ass. You almost broke the stool with the speed you leapt off it, turning to the man who was significantly larger than yourself. “Keep your hands to your fucking self,” you seethed, your hand gripping his wrist. You saw movement out of the corner of your eye, and eyes on you everywhere. “Touch me again, and I’ll break your fucking wrist, you understand?” He just smiled, chuckling slightly.

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it.”

“I’m pretty sure she didn’t, amigo,” Javier appeared at your side, his eyes practically red with rage. But he kept it all in pretty well, somehow. “You best move along. Unless you want more than that wrist of yours snapping in two.” The way Javier spoke made him seem bigger than he actually was. More confident, but more dangerous.

The man saw his chances were slim and made his way over to a free table, slumping down in it while muttering something about can’t even be nice to people anymore. You weren’t really listening. A finger tipped your chin over to Javier, his eyes softening in your gaze. “All good, hermosa?”

You nodded, heart beating faster as his fingers moved to the side of your neck, his thumb caressing your cheek. “All better now,” you smiled.

The night went on, and you filled your pockets, Javier did the same. With half a bottle of whiskey left, you decided to turn in for the night. You led the way back to the room, the key in one hand, your glass in the other. Javier followed close behind, holding his own glass and the rest of the bottle.

Locking the room door behind the two of you, you both emptied your valuables onto the desk opposite the bed. It was a good haul. A really good haul. Over five hundred dollars in cash and at least another four hundred in jewellery and personal belongings.

“So what do we do for the rest of the night?” you asked, heading to the balcony doors and opening them, letting some air into the room. “We did the job, and it's not even midnight yet.”

Javier thought about it, moving over to join you on the balcony, sitting on one of the chairs beside you, pouring whiskey into the glasses on the table. “Well, we could enjoy the rest of our night away from camp. I, for one, am happy to not having to lie on the ground for one night, if you feel the same?” He looked over, slightly hopeful in a sense.

“That…actually sounds like a nice idea,” you admitted, taking a drag of the cigarette you had lit. You both sat there for a short while, listening to the wind whistling, the town bustling, the horses braying in the street. It was peace. Peace was not something you had felt in a while, or been able to enjoy. You planned on soaking up as much of it as you could before morning.

After an hour or so, the whiskey bottle had been poured dry, and you and Javier had chatted away until silence consumed you. But the pain of that fucking dress was ruining your whole mood. You stood slowly, huffing as you turned back to the room. Javier watched as you went, furrowing his brows as he saw your hands fiddling with the lace knot at the base of your spine. “Everything okay, hermosa?” He called out, following you into the room.

“Need to take this damned thing off, can’t feel my back at all,” you laughed. But you couldn’t untie the knot. It was intricate and fiddly, even with a mirror, you wouldn’t even know where to start. “Can you…please…” You were out of breath already from sucking in your stomach as though that would somehow loosen the lace.

“Stop fiddling, you’ll make it worse.” You heard his voice in your ear. He was right behind you, batting your hands away and taking the tie in his own fingers. He struggled for a second, you heard the laugh in his voice as he cursed at the dress in Spanish, it made you silently chuckle with him.”You’re laughing at me? I see your shoulders shaking. Keep it up and I’ll leave you to sleep in this dress, amor.”

“Please, no, get this dress off me,” you managed to say between giggles.

“Por el amor de dios,” he muttered before slicing through the lace with his knife. “Hope you weren’t planning on wearing this again.”

“You cut it?!” You exclaimed, flipping your head to the side, glaring at him amusedly. “You were defeated by a corset. We’ve found your weakness, Javi. It’s lace.”

He smiled. “Cállate,” he mused playfully. Untying the rest of the lace, you let out a huge breath as the bone corset loosened, allowing you to intake breath comfortably.

“Oh, my hero,” you whispered, breathing deeply. He murmured a ‘you’re welcome’, continuing to untangle the lace all the way up to your shoulders. He watched as the dress peeled off your body, showing your back, your spine, your shoulder blades, all encased in soft, pretty, perfect skin. He was mesmerised as he watched as you rolled your shoulders, relieving the tension in your muscles.

Javier couldn’t help but reach out, pulling your dress to the side, pushing it off your shoulder. He hadn’t noticed the way you’d stopped breathing. Hadn’t noticed the way you’d turned your head to the side, peering at him through your peripheral. Hadn’t noticed the look in your eye. Curiosity? Anticipation? Excitement? He wouldn’t have known. Didn’t know you were waiting to see what he was doing. Or what he would do next.

You felt his fingers run up your spine. Soft, yet calloused fingers dragged up your skin, running over your bones and your muscles. Your scars felt strange under his touch, but you said nothing. You didn’t want him to stop. You felt the dress slip off your other shoulder, the only thing holding the clothing up was your arm, your hand pressed flat against your chest, the fabric bunching as you supported the weight of it.

His other hand came to your waist, and you shuddered under the feeling, seemingly snapping Javier out of the trance he had locked himself in. His hands fell from your body, and he stepped back slightly. “I…sorry,” he spoke quietly. Meekly. “I’ll leave you to change.”

You turned on your heel, your eyes gazing at him. “Or you could sta-” Your words stuck to the insides of your throat as his hands cupped the sides of your neck, his head dipping down, connecting his lips to yours. He smelled of smoke and whiskey. He tasted the same, and you revelled in the taste as your tongue slipped into his mouth, melting with his own. His hands drifted to your waist, his lips travelling to your neck, to your exposed shoulder and you let the dress fall to the floor with a soft thud. His eyes explored every inch of you. But it didn’t make you feel uneasy, or uncomfortable, like when other men had laid their gaze on you, eyes filled with hunger. Javier’s eyes only shone in affection, taking in every feature, every part of your body.

“Tan hermosa, amor,” he mumbled, kissing you once again, his lips slotting against yours perfectly. He walked you backwards to the bed, and you stepped out of your shoes, kicking them aside as your thighs hit something solid. He guided you to lie on the bed, his body hovering over yours, his leg slipping between your thighs as his kisses grew heavier, passionate, hungry. Your fingers unbuttoned his shirt with ease, and he shrugged it off, his soft honey skin mixing with the candlelight across the room. Soft, fuzzy hair on his chest tickled your skin as his body pressed against yours, his right hand firmly pressed into the mattress, holding his body above yours so he didn’t crush you under his weight.

His other hand drifted to your leg, cupping under your thigh and pulling it up until it wrapped around his waist. You felt his thigh softly shift in between your legs, brushing coarsely against something sensitive, pulling a soft gasp from your throat. He smiled against your lips. “What was that, cariňa? Something feel good, hm?” God you could hear the cockiness dripping off his words. But you loved it. He knew what he was doing. Exactly what he was doing to you. So Javier repeated the motion, a little harder this time, and you moaned this time. It was like sweet nectar to his ears. “Fuck, I love the noises you make. I haven’t even started yet, sweetheart.”

His lips trailed south, down your stomach, over your tits, nipping and sucking at your flesh until it was blemished red. His beard tickled your stomach, but once he reached below your navel, every thought or feeling exited your head. He pried the underwear off your body, pulling it painfully slowly down your legs and tossing it to the ground. Looking up at you from where he was kneeled between your thighs, only inches from your already wet cunt, he looked for signs of discomfort. You gave him none. You had none. All you wanted was this. So he dove in. He couldn’t help himself. Like a man starved, he licked his tongue up your soaked pussy, groaning at the taste of you on his tongue. God, he fucking loved it. But when he found your clit with the tip of his tongue, he wished he could play the noise you made on repeat in his head forever. It was a sharp gasping moan. A pleasurable realisation that he’d find the most sensitive part of you. So he focused on it like a hawk focusing on prey. The tingles that ran through your veins overtook your senses, and you ran a hand through his hair, pulling the tie that bound it together apart to grab a fistful between your fingers.

He stayed right where you kept him, right where he wanted to be. His right arm wrapped around your thigh, pinning you in place. You didn’t know where his other hand went until you felt his finger teasing your hole. Your mouth fell open, silently begging for him to do what you knew he was thinking of doing. As though he could hear you, he slipped his finger in with ease, curling it upwards and hitting something devastatingly perfect in your core. “Shit, just like that. Please,” you whined. He gazed up at you through hooded lids. It was the first time you’d spoken since he’d kissed you. Just the way you spoke made him want to ravage you right there and then. But he couldn’t. He had to take his time with you. He didn’t know when he’d next get time alone with you like this.

Adding another finger, he felt your juices coat him, drown his fingers inside you. His jaw ached, but he couldn’t stop, not when he felt your thighs clench around his head, caging him in. His fingers moved with deft precision, hitting that spot inside that made your legs shake against his ears. Your moans filled the room, urging Javier on. You felt his fingers speed up, thrusting harder and deeper inside you, his tongue toying with your clit and sending shockwaves up your spine.

You felt the cusp of something perfect building up inside you, and your back arched against the sheets, your grip tightening in Javi’s hair. “Yes, yes, fuck. I’m close, Javi,” you whispered into the darkness, the sun completely gone from the sky for the night, letting the moon take the limelight right outside your window.

But Javier had different plans, his fingers forcefully pulling out of your cunt and leaving you feeling empty. Your head lifted off the mattress in an instant, seeing the smirk playing at his lips. Javier kissed your inner thigh, kicking off his boots as he crawled up your body. “What are you doing, Javi?” You whined, leaning into his deep kiss. Tasting yourself on his tongue felt strange, but you liked it, you learned quickly.

“Well, I want you to come. But not on my fingers, darlin’.” His voice was husky, needy. God, you could have cum at just his voice at that point. Your hands drifted to his pants, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers. “That’s what I thought.”

He tilted your face back up to his as he felt your fingers drift along cock, confined beneath his underwear. “Please, Javi,” you breathed, palming his erection gently.

“Let me take care of you, hermosa.” His hand enclosed around your wrist, pulling it away from his cock and over your head, doing the same with your other hand. Holding himself up against the mattress once again, he freed his cock with his other hand, teasing the tip of it through your folds. God, you needed him. Your pussy was practically begging for him.

The second he pushed inside you, you knew you wouldn’t last long. He was thick, filling you as he eased his dick to the base inside you. Javier groaned once fully inside you, his hand coming up to grip your wrists, holding them firm against the mattress. “God, you feel good, amor. Too fuckin’ good. Need to fuck you. Please, let me fuck you.” Fuck, he was begging you now. It made you clench around him, causing him to grunt against your neck.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, closing him in, pushing his body further against yours. Your foot nudged against his ass, grinding his dick into you. “Javi, please. Please fuck me.”

Without warning, he thrust hard and deep in you. You cried out his name, and it set him off in a feral kind of motion. The tip of his cock brushed against your core with each thrust, balls slapping against your ass with each movement. Javier propped himself on his knees, his hand gripping your wrists, his other hand gripping the outside of your thigh, fingers kneading into your ass. He rocked into you at an animalistic pace, the bed shaking and creaking, the headboard knocking against the wall in perfect rhythm with his hips. Words escaped you, his cock rendering you to a moaning mess beneath him. God, you were a perfect sight. He cursed in Spanish, nearing his own high. Javier watched as you fell apart, your face contorted in pleasure, your leg sliding off his back and onto the mattress, completely spread for him to see.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” you managed to say between thrusts. You were close. So fucking close. And so was he. You could feel it. The way his hips faltered sometimes, his laboured breathing, the strength in the way he held you pinned against the mattress, completely submissive underneath him.

“Come on, hermosa, come for me. Come on my cock, I know you can,” he gritted through his teeth, pushing a few more forceful pumps inside your sopping pussy until you finally clenched around him hard. You flooded his cock, your insides tensed and clamped around his dick. Javier followed not too far behind, his cum spurting out and painting your walls in white.

The only sound in the room was your matching breaths. Heavy, and desperate. His face buried in the crook of your neck, kissing your salty skin, his teeth dragging along your pulse. Javier rolled onto his side, pulling you with him so he didn’t have to pull out of you just yet.

You laid on his chest, the sweat on your skin sticking you together, but you didn’t care. The breeze of the open balcony doors would cool you both eventually.

“I’m glad I chose to come on this job with you,” Javier whispered to you. You couldn’t help but giggle, hearing the smile in his voice.

You turned your head to look up at him. His hair was slicked back, you never saw it like this. You only saw him with his hair tied back. “Me too, Javi.” He leaned down to kiss you softly, gently brushing his lips against yours.

“We should go on jobs together in the future. Gotta keep eachother company, you know?” He smirked as you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, so just on jobs, Escuella?”

His eyebrow quirked up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You smiled. “Your tent is off limits?”

“Absolutely not. After this, I’d be honoured to have you in my tent whenever you’d like, amor. You just say the word.”

Camp felt different after the job. Javier was more open and affectionate with you. Kissing the top of your head when bringing you coffee if you were on morning watch. He’d sit with you at the campfire and let you play around with his guitar. He fucked you gently in his tent at night, covering your mouth so Bill had nothing to bring up at breakfast. Everyone noticed. But said nothing. It’s almost like they had expected it to go exactly like this. Hosea especially.

#fluff #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #rdr2 #javier escuella #rdr2 x reader #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption x reader #javier escuella x reader #javier escuella rdr2 #javier escuella smut #rdr2 fanfiction #rdr2 smut

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blingblong55 · 1 year ago

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Cupid's Chokehold-Keegan P. Russ

Based on a request: Inspired by this tiktok: https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNvqQeak/ Can I request Rockstar!Keegan x Reader, please? Reader has been a fan of Keegan for many years, and for the first time, she managed to see him irl at a concert. When both eyes connected, ⚡️ ZING ⚡️ tension became to form. P/s: fluff/smut/smuttiest is up to you ☺️. Thank you!

---- F!Reader, 18+, smut, rockstar!keegan, rockband au, oral!sex, some fluff, P-in-V, unprotected!sex, mentions of drug use, consent checks, fingering ----

A/N: Okay but the song/title is fits with this so perfectly!

11:30 at night, the small venue doors open and you walk in. Your friends are excited just like you. Skulls, the rock band you've been obsessed with started their small tour in your city and there you were, front-row tickets, cherry red lipstick and that tight little dress. And there he is, Keegan Russ, the lead singer, waiting for the lights to dim and for him and his band to light the stage with their presence.

The guitar begins, drums next and with each drum hit, the lights flash. The fans go wild just like you as the lead singer, Keegan comes on stage and begins to sing. He begins to approach the edge of the stage and caresses a woman's face as he sings, he begins to near her lips with his own and before they kiss he pulls away with a smirk and a laugh. The other men in the bad chuckle, they also make women and men think they are to be kissed only to pull away at the last second. His pale blue eyes catch yours, and your heart races, he smirks and winks.

Midway through the concert, Keegan pulls a cigarette and lights it up, inhaling its smoke into his lungs, he looks at the women in the crowd. Which one will be his midnight meal? You knew he always had at least three women per show and then, there he stood, women screaming his name and he hopped off the stage, kissing women on the lips like it was normal, until he walked past you and stopped. Why was his heart racing? He had seen beautiful women, yes but you, oh you were carved by gods and kissed by angels. What is this good feeling in his chest? It can't be the drugs he took before the show, can't it? "What's your name, doll?" His American accent is present. You ushered your name to him and he smirked just a little, from his hand, he placed his cigarette to your lips. "Keep it warm for me, yeah?" He hurries back up to the stage and continues his show.

Last song and he leans over, points to you and gets a security guard to hurry you backstage. "Go, go!" your friends smile, their eyes on the drummer.

And now, here you are, in his dressing room, clothes scattered on the floor, sex toys and a package of condoms on the sofa. His cologne fills the room and so does the odor of cigarettes. "I see you did keep it warm," he takes the cigarette and places it back on his lips. "Tell me, doll, what are your deepest fantasies?" his arm is placed around your shoulder as he walks you to the tour bus. Every dirty secret whispered to him and the more you said, the more he wanted to just bend you over the sofa, rip those panties of yours and eat you out. As he closed the door to the tour bus, he looked at you. "You're okay with this? With me making every inch of yours mine?" "I am." "Better be, because I can't pretend I don't want you anymore," his warm and soft lips meet yours. His tongue pushed past yours, gaining dominance in a matter of seconds.

He backs you up to the bed and begins to kiss your neck and jaw, leaving trails of his lips on you. Your hands take off his clothes as he rips off yours. "You don't need this right?" a cocky grin on him as he tears the last piece of clothing off you. You heard stories of how he would fuck women before you and now, you have that privilege. His hand finds your waist and then slowly grabs and slaps your ass before he pushes you to the bed. "Be as loud as you can, okay doll?" Your warm tits bouncing as you eagerly nod. He chuckles, "Good girl." Those warm hands on his find your slick cunt. "Already wet for me? oh, doll, tsk tsk, guess I have no other option but to fuck that eagerness out of you, huh?" his lips twitch at the small smile he gives you.

Keegan kisses you from your forehead and to your inner thighs. He grips, slaps and nibbles on the softness of your skin. Before you can even predict it, he looks at you and begins to slowly trail the precious folds of your cunt. You let out a moan and he chuckles, "What, can't take a little kiss now?" His tongue licking and slowly trailing down to your eager little hole. "C'mon baby, lick 'em," his fingers on your mouth, getting them nice and soaked so he can finger you properly. Once they were, his fingers teased your entrance.

Good girls get stuffed and prepared before He treated them with his cock, isn't that right?

Slowly, as Keegan sucks and licks your precious clit and his fingers fuck themselves in you, you feel your climax get near. He can sense it and oh does this make him eager to hear yourself let loose. Why be a shy girl when you can be his loud little pet? "That's right, doll, come for me, do it." His words are persuasive and hot. His breath playing with your already sensitive cunt and all you can do is arch your back. His big hand holds your hips down, "No no, be a good girl and stay still for me," his voice hoarse. Those enchanting eyes never leave your face as he watches you go crazy with every passing second that he is down on you. What man would ever pass the opportunity to see a goddess like this? Your nipples are hard, mouth open as moans and soft whimpers leave and those eyes, oh those half-lidded eyes rolling back.

Is this what it is? He eats pussy good and that's why all women drop for him? If it is, you have been let in into the secret. When your orgasm crashes with his mouth, you hear him lick and devour your pretty cunt. He moans and drowns in your delicious juices. Pre-cum leaks from his swollen tip and that's when he finds himself humping the bed in which you lie. "Fuck, I can't do this anymore," he grabs your legs and drags you to the edge. "I need to fuck you, okay? I'll be rough, you hear me?" His fat and heavy cock slaps against your cunt and he teases your entrance with his tip. "Are you okay with this?" He looks directly into your eyes and you nod. "Very," is all you can respond and then, he slowly slips himself inside of you.

A whiny groan leaves his lips and slowly, to help you get used to his size, thrusts into you. A soft gasp escaped your lips, his size too much to bear at the moment but it feels just too good. His hand on your waist, the other cupping your face. Your cheek flushed. "Such a beauty, doll," and just in cue, he begins to kiss you. Perhaps it was the weed in the room, maybe it was that he already had you drunk on sex but it was a connection, the same one from before. It was different, not only did he feel it but you did too. Hooked on romance, the drugged poets say.

As he thrusts into you, he finds himself worshipping your body. The curves of your soft tits, the way your tummy feels when he lets his hands wander and how you feel clenched around his fat cock. Your moans and his mixing create a perfect tune. That's when the idea struck. He grabs his phone and looks at you, "I'll keep fucking you, you just moan, doll," he nods and presses record. His thrusts harder by the second, only letting you grip onto him as he fingers your clit. Your moans are louder yet still so angelic. "Keegan," you repeat multiple times. What a perfect song you'll be.

"Fuck, fuck," his eyes shut and his moans grow louder. His cum and your juices meet. His seed filling you up, hands roaming your body as he kisses you, to soothe the exhaustion. "It's okay, you did great, doll," he whispers and pulls out. Keegan begins to caress you, calming your shaky legs and excited body. A bottle of water meets your lips as he begins to care for you.

It wasn't three women he'd have as a midnight meal, it's you he rather want in his bed now. With your moans and his ever-beating lover's heart, that is what he needs. You, the muse to his sex, love and any other songs. Those painted cherry lips of yours, what a heaven on Earth have you given him.

Five months into you and it's him who is more than drunk. Now, as he celebrates yet another concert, the last song he finishes with is his ultimate favourite. Cupid's Chokehold, dedicated to his doll. The girl who owns the once playboy.

Take a look at my girlfriend

She's the only one I got

Not much of a girlfriend

I never seem to get a lot

And now, each time he finishes that song, he winks at you. You who so proudly watches him from the side of the stage smile and then he takes your hand and walks to the tour bus with you.

A/N: Hope ya liked it and I know this is long overdue, so sorry for the delay :)

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