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g1rld1ary · 10 months ago

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5 people james didn't mean to kiss (and one he did) ; james potter x fem!reader

➻ first james fic!! i love reviving old fanfic trends <33

➻ word count: 4494

➻ synopsis: says it on the tin baby!

➻ warnings: swearing, allusions to sex/dirty jokes, era typical homophobia (basically nonexistent)

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James Potter was a very affectionate person, everyone knew that. His love language was absolutely physical touch — everyone knew that too. It was also assumed, therefore, that James Potter had an extensive list of kisses. That assumption wasn’t necessarily wrong, but a good chunk of them weren’t exactly what you imagined when thinking of the great James Potter kissing someone. They were often impulsive when he didn’t know how else to express his feelings. His very first kiss, for example, wasn’t exactly the cheesy, romantic soap opera that he often advertised providing for girls.

Sirius Black

The Marauders sat in their dorm room, early on in second year. While first year was packed with ridiculous adventures and the forming of their friendship group, second year brought a new awareness of girls, romance and especially kissing. That was the topic of discussion as the boys all packed into one bed, hypothesising about what it might be like. James and Sirius led the discussion with much bravado and false confidence whilst Peter looked decidedly scared. Remus, to his credit, just looked rather amused at it all.

“But where do you touch her?” James asked, eyes still wide and innocent and twelve years old, “I can’t just stand there with my hands at my sides like a twat!”

“Don’t be stupid, you hold her like this.” Sirius bent his arms in a direction that looked borderline painful. Remus huffed and climbed off the bed, pulling both the boys with him.

“If you’re gonna kiss a girl,” Remus instructed, “You have to hold her gently. Don’t push her around like she’s dead weight. James, put your arms around Sirius’ waist like that, now Sirius, you put your arms around his neck.”

“Pete’s gonna think we’re bent,” Sirius grumbled, a red hue on his cheeks.

“You are bent, you poof,” Peter quipped from his spot on the bed. He was right, of course, but that wouldn’t come to light until fourth year. James thought this was hilarious though, and began miming exaggerated — rather sloppy — kisses. And since James never failed to cure Sirius of his moods, he did the same. Remus rolled his eyes as the two boys acted out a passionate scene, loose tongues and all, until they were no longer acting.

All four boys in the dorm were frozen as James and Sirius’ mouths had accidentally connected in their stupidity, none of them sure what to do. Seconds passed as the two stood, lips locked against each other, no one daring to move. At least, until Remus let out a long, uncharacteristic wheeze, which dissolved into a fit of giggles that he would usually be mortified by, but there was no way he was outdoing the kiss anytime soon. Peter followed along momentarily, laughing so hard barely any sound actually came out, silent heaves punctuated by gasping breaths.

Released from their stupor both boys leapt apart, wiping their mouths with their forearms. Both had comical expressions of disgust, still slightly too stunned to verbalise any of it.

“We,” James heaved, “Can never speak of this again. Ever.” Sirius agreed in a heartbeat, still unable to completely wipe the blush from his pale complexion. He probably would have dwelled on those feelings if James wasn’t James, beginning to see the humour in it soon enough. By the end of the night it was an inside joke that would proceed to be referenced countless times within the walls of Hogwarts.

So although James would tell the story of his first kiss quite differently — he alleged it was with a Ravenclaw named Keeley a few weeks later, his proper first kiss will always have been with one Sirius Black in the Gryffindor dormitories on an otherwise unassuming Tuesday evening. And that secret was held onto dearly by all four marauders until, of course, Sirius’ best man speech at James’ wedding, where the anecdote received uproarious applause, loudest of all by James himself.

2. Remus Lupin

The Marauders had all known about Remus’ ‘furry little problem’ since their second year — first for the most perceptive of the bunch. Nevertheless, the group were insistent in helping Remus in any way they could, though it was a difficult task when his alter ego had no resistance to killing them. Until Sirius had come to them with the idea of becoming animagi. It was difficult no doubt, advanced magic far beyond the teaching at Hogwarts, but the four of them were exceptional wizards each in their own way, and the project seemed somewhat manageable with four brains chipping away at it over the course of two years.

When they finally did get it, hardly any of them could believe it, least of all Remus. He had never imagined that the human side of him was worthy of this much love and devotion, let alone the monster within him. However, despite how they tried to play it off, the achievement didn’t come easily to any of them. Sirius was the first to get it, big black dog accompanying the group around the castle and becoming an unexpected staple of the Gryffindor common room. You in particular liked to cuddle up with him on the couch and spoil him with head scratches when you were stressed from school — at least until the secret was revealed and you hit him upside his human head for deceiving you.

James was second to get it, though much less gracefully than Sirius. The whole group of Gryffindors had been hanging out together down by the Black Lake, enjoying the slowly warming weather after class one day. James had the misfortune of being sat between you and Lily, which made things very confusing for his hormonal body and brain. His eyes were trained on his hands, too afraid to actually talk to either of you and embarrass himself which was what usually happened. You and Lily, however, were hell bent on making that occur. While James had had a well known crush on Lily for the last few years, ever since you’d come back to school that year post-puberty you could both tell that James was both emotionally and physically confused. You both delighted in this and used it to your advantage, Lily finding him the most annoying man on earth and you delighting in his flustered expressions (secretly finding him actually pretty cute).

After thirty minutes of torture, James couldn’t take it. You’d made one too many dirty jokes directed at him and he was a blushing mess, fidgeting awkwardly between you and Lily laughing gleefully. He excused himself quickly and uncharacteristically quietly, hurrying off to be out of sight of his friends. You all laughed as you watched him go, and Remus reluctantly stood, muttering something about making sure James didn’t drive himself crazy.

Remus headed straight to the Forbidden Forest, knowing the privacy would be what James desired in the moment. Sure enough there he was, taking a moment to breathe against a tree.

“Easy there, Potter, don’t cum in your pants,” He joked, obviously amused by the whole ordeal. James turned quickly, devastated at Remus seeing him so sexually frustrated.

“Sod off, Lupin. It’s not my fault! They both just sit there looking so fucking good, talking about all these unholy things and you expect me to just be fine with it? It’s so—” Instead of the exasperated groan Remus expected, he was met with a stag standing tall in front of him. He couldn’t help his mouth dropping open, the animal far more magnificent than he could have expected out of the fourteen year old boy.

In a weird shift of figure the deer was back to boy, and James only had a moment of shocked stillness before he was whooping and yelling in the grass. Remus joined him, the two of them yelling and dancing around like idiots in their joy. James pulled him in for a hug, appropriately masculine until he pressed a kiss onto Remus’ lips, still grinning ecstatically as they pulled away. Remus scowled in a way he hoped was convincing.

“I hate it when you do that, Potter,” He grumbled as the two of them returned to their friends.

“Yeah, right,” James laughed, pushing his glasses up his nose. “It’s a blessing to be kissed by my sexy arse.”

3. Peter Pettigrew

While all four of the Marauders were undoubtedly exceptional wizards, that didn’t always translate into their grades. For example, being so ahead in the curriculum made James Potter get lazy, often submitting subpar essays simply because he figured it was already common knowledge and he was more interested in higher level magic. He always ended up with top grades from outstanding extra credit projects, but the point still stood.

Peter was similarly a great wizard. Perhaps not so much a prodigy like James or Sirius, and didn’t dominate the class ranks like Remus, but he did well for himself and was pretty exceptional in Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures. However, he was failing History of Magic. All four of them had chosen the subject for their OWLs, assuming it would be an easy O because of the ghost professor. They couldn’t be more wrong. Binns was a useless teacher and Peter especially found it difficult to teach himself the material just from the textbook, and was falling dreadfully behind, each essay earning a worse grade than the last.

James had offered to help tutor him before their exams, and the two buckled down in the library almost every day in the weeks leading up to exam season. Peter made pretty good progress, eager to catch up with his friends and prove he was on their level. Still, everyone was nervous for the test and its outcome.

When results were released, you and the Gryffindors were all together. Whilst you and the girls all got the reveal over and done with, the boys all waited with bated breaths. Most of the grades weren’t shocking — three of them knew they could easily get top grades from the little effort they put in, but they were all waiting on Peter’s History of Magic grade. The blond boy opened his paper with shaky hands, eyes scanning frantically over the information contained. Slowly he raised his head, nervous smile apparent.

“I got an A,” He said, and within an instant the boys were on top of him, congratulating him with strong hugs or by clapping him on the back. James grabbed both of his cheeks, pressing them together and pushing a kiss onto Peter’s lips.

“Prongs!” Peter moaned, pushing his face away half-heartedly.

“I’m just proud of you, Wormtail,” He cooed, appearing much like his mother whom you all adored.

“Oi, Potter,” You interrupted, waving your sheet of results around. “I got an O in Potions — where’s my kiss?” James immediately broke your eye contact, and you pretended you weren’t charmed by his embarrassed little smile. He mumbled a response that had his friends ripping him to shreds, egging him on whilst simultaneously teasing him and his alleged manhood. He pressed a gentle peck to your forehead and you raised an eyebrow.

“Not what I meant, but ok.”

4. Regulus Black

Regulus Black had a difficult relationship with the Marauders, to say the very least. By his fifth year — the rest of the boys’ sixth — Sirius had been at the Potter’s for months and Regulus was still reeling from the impact. He was noticeably quieter and more sombre than in years previous, and a dangerous resentment for his brother and his friends bubbled under his skin.

James Potter connected these dots quickly. However, he didn’t really know what to do about it. He wasn’t sorry that Sirius was living with him, but he didn’t like that Regulus was left all alone with their wicked parents, regardless of their personal differences. That brought James to you.

You sat together on the couch, his head resting next to your thighs, curls just brushing against your skin in a way that you couldn’t stop thinking about. He was lamenting about his mental struggles as you worked on your crochet, thinking quietly as he rambled on.

“Why don’t you just talk to him?” You asked suddenly, and James tilted his head to look up at you, holding back his laughter at your upside down appearance.

“What?” He asked, “I can’t talk to him, he hates me!”

“When has that ever stopped you before? Lily hates you and yet you bother her all the time,” You said, smile playing on your lips.

“That’s not true!” James protested, “I don’t bother her that much anymore!” You rolled your eyes playfully and turned back to your craft as James continued to ponder the situation.

As usual, he decided you were right. And so he sent a short letter to Regulus, asking for a meeting on the Astronomy tower at midnight. Surprisingly he’d agreed, and the two boys were standing awkwardly across each other on the tower. Regulus refused to start the conversation and so stood in silence, staring down James in an effort to scare him off. James wouldn’t be deterred.

“I just wanted to talk about what happened last year,” He said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose nervously.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“C’mon. I know we’re not friends, but I also figured none of your friends are the talking type either. So, I thought you could talk to me — full confidentiality. I don’t know, blame me, yell at me, I just don’t want you to do this all by yourself.”

“How sweet, Potter,” He sneered, “But I don’t need to talk about any of my feelings.”

James Potter was nothing if not persistent.

“Ok, well if you don’t want to talk, how about you listen?” To his surprise, Regulus stayed. One perfect eyebrow raised, he slowly sat next to James, legs dangling over the edge of the tower. After a gesture for him to go on, James started. He began to talk about the process of having Sirius live with him, the feelings they both had about it, and the guilt they both felt about leaving Regulus alone. At that Regulus looked up, eyes pooling with hope.

Then without any warning, Regulus was talking more than James had ever heard before, spilling what he supposed must have been the younger boy’s darkest secrets and vulnerabilities. James was unprepared, not actually expecting him to engage. At one point James had put a comforting arm around Regulus’ shoulder, words failing to express any of the feelings he had inside. Regulus didn’t pull away as James expected, instead only starting to cry. James just watched in disbelief as Regulus cried into his chest. Awkwardly, James arranged himself to press a gentle kiss to Regulus’ forehead right as Regulus moved to look up and speak, resulting in a ridiculous kiss between the two of them.

They jumped apart in less than a second, both with horrified looks on their faces.

“Oh my God—”

“That was an accident I swear—”

“I’m really sorry—”

“I was just trying to comfort you—”

Both boys stumbled over their words as they clambered up to their feet, putting a strictly heterosexual amount of space between them.

“Um, I’m just gonna go,” Regulus settled on, backing up towards the door.

“I’m seriously sorry, Black. It’s just something I do — doesn’t usually backfire like that.” Regulus just nodded, leaving quickly.

“Potter?” He stopped halfway through the door and James looked up. “Thanks.” James didn’t get any time to reply as Regulus was long gone, leaving him to cringe on his own. Neither of them would be telling anybody about the incident. Ever.

5. Lily Evans

You and James had been doing your will-they-won’t-they thing for a long time. Not quite since you met, but once you’d both started to notice the opposite sex you’d been participating in a battle of who could resist the longest. Teasing and cajoling were staples of your relationship. Whilst it had started as a way to pass the time; James had been in love with Lily since second year and you just liked to tease, at some point the feelings crossed over into a real and dangerous territory. However, neither of you wanted to do anything in case the feelings weren’t reciprocated, and truthfully hadn’t realised the true depth of them.

You and James were the only ones not to see the obvious: the feelings were absolutely reciprocated. It was tearing your friends apart, trying to get one of you to finally confess before you finished school forever. There were bets in place, pep talks and everything else the Gryffindors could think of to finally cause the event they’d been hoping for. Eventually, Lily had had enough.

One day you were all hanging out in your dormitory, most of you doing your homework and Marlene fiddling with a record player, trying to get it to come back to life.

“So, what would you guys think if I gave James a chance?” Lily asked, too coy to be genuine, but you were caught off-guard enough that you didn’t notice. “I mean, I know I’ve said some terrible things over the years, but now that he’s backed off he’s actually a really nice guy.”

“But… James?” You asked incredulously, essay immediately forgotten.

“Yeah, why not? He’s the hottest guy in our year, and if all goes to shit it’s only a few months until we graduate and I’ll never have to see him again.”

“But it’s James!” The rest of the girls had caught on to what Lily was scheming and delighted in joining in.

“Why shouldn’t she? It’s not like you like him, right?” Mary asked, studying your expressions. You hesitated for a moment, trying to find the right words. And just when they thought Lily had finally succeeded in getting the ball rolling you answered: “No, of course not. You go ahead, Lils.”

What started as a ploy to get you to admit your feelings only snowballed from there when Lily realised she couldn’t just back out now. And so she hatched a plan. Everything was going perfectly; Sirius and Remus had made sure the common room was devoid of younger students so no unhelpful rumours could be spread, and Marlene had been hanging out with you all evening to make sure you stuck to the schedule she’d devised.

With perfect precision, you and Marlene entered through the portrait just as Lily came down from the dorms.

“Hey, Potter,” She called, and James looked up curiously from his game of wizard’s chess. The redhead marched over to him, cupping both of his cheeks and kissing him strongly. Your jaw dropped open. You couldn’t believe Lily was just going for it like that, but even more you couldn’t believe the sick feeling creeping up from your stomach. You looked at Marlene, who only looked marginally less shocked. A glance around the room proved similar. Although they all knew Lily’s plan, it was two entirely different things to hear about her scheme to get the two of you together and seeing Lily Evans kissing James Potter.

“I’ve, uh, gotta go,” You mumbled, somehow finding your footing to run from the room, desperate to get anywhere where you didn’t have to see that, and the subsequent (or so you believed) union of a happy couple.

Lily pulled away from the kiss, eyes immediately trying to find you and she was puzzled when she couldn’t. A look at Marlene told her all she needed to know and her heart sank; she’d failed. James was looking a little more dazed than the head girl, and suddenly looked terribly awkward in his seat.

“Look, Lils. Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t feel that way about you anymore. There’s— there’s someone else, and I, I have to go.” With that James headed up to his dormitory, and the rest of your friends stood in a thick silence for several moments.

“I think I just made everything worse,” Lily said, and then the chaos started.

“What the fuck did you think was going to happen?” Sirius asked loudly, running a stressed hand through his hair.

“I don’t know! I just figured maybe they’d have an epiphany and both realise they’d rather be kissing each other!” Lily cried, throwing herself into an armchair.

You

Lily was right, she’d unintentionally made everything worse. You were upset at what you’d seen and the story you’d attributed to it, and even more so at your terribly timed realisation of your feelings. Because of this you’d started avoiding James in an effort to get over him, which only made you more miserable that you couldn’t talk to your favourite person. James, in turn, hadn’t seen you enter the common room on the night of the kiss and so believed —and dearly hoped — that you were blissfully ignorant, and so was equally perplexed and distraught at the space between you. He’d tried to approach you about it but you evaded him or turned him away every time.

“Hey, love, can we please—”

“It’s fine, James,” You interrupted him, “It was all just a bit of fun, right? All the flirting, the being touchy. But now you’re with Lily and I’ll back off, I get it, don’t worry. I wish you two every happiness.” You tried to sound as genuine as you could while sadness bit at your heart, and left James standing astounded in the corridor. Now he knew that you’d seen the kiss the issue was obvious, but the solution remained a mystery to him.

You’d taken to Marlene to get your feelings out, and she listened patiently as you rattled off a monologue about your childish jealousy and broken heart. Luckily, she’d discussed how to handle this with Lily — who knew you wouldn’t go to her because of her alleged involvement with James, and set off (hopefully) your friend’s last attempt to get you two together. She finally shook you out of it, frustrated with the lack of action.

“They’re not together,” She said, stopping you in your tracks.

“What?”

“They’re not together,” She repeated, making intense eye contact with you. “It was all this dumb plan Lily had to get the two of you together. She thought if you saw James getting with someone else you’d finally realise your feelings for him. And you did, but you were supposed to stick around to hear Potter reject her and say that he liked someone else, you.” You were shocked into silence, what could you say to that?

“So,” You started carefully, “What do I do now?”

James was in a similar situation with the boys.

“She saw Lily kiss me and now she thinks I like Lily when I like her! Plus, she won’t even be in my presence long enough for me to explain that it’s all just this huge misunderstanding and it’s her I want to be snogging!” James lay dramatically across his bed as the boys sighed.

“Prongs, isn’t it obvious?” Sirius asked and James cocked his head to the side, looking remarkably like a confused puppy. “Do something she can’t ignore. Make a grand gesture to prove your feelings for her.” James thought about it, it made sense. If you wouldn’t hear his explanation, he’d just have to make you.

“How?”

You and James went into the following Saturday with the same goal. It was Gryffindor’s quidditch semi-final, so there was a party being held whatever the outcome. It would be the first time you’d see each other since you’d realised your mistake since training was taking up all of James’ time.

Gryffindor had won, thankfully, which had both of you in higher spirits. The party was already in full swing by the time you got there, opting for a smoke first to calm your nerves. You’d spotted James almost as soon as you entered, always the heart and soul of a party. You marched towards him with a purpose, but as soon as he set eyes on you he jumped up to stand on a table. Someone had lowered the volume of the music — not silent, but low enough so you could hear him yelling over it. He said your full name, clearly and intentionally in a way that had surrounding people look at you curiously.

“I love you,” He said suddenly. “I am in love with you, not anyone else, and whatever made you think that’s not true was just a huge misunderstanding. Because I love you so much, and all I want to do is snog you until I’m the only name you remember, baby.” You let out a short laugh at his vulgarity and the cocky smirk that accompanied it, but a cheek-splitting smile won out when you thought about the preceding words and the sincerity he’d instilled in them. Before you even knew what you were doing you were racing towards him, gratefully taking Peter’s hand to join James on the table.

You honestly couldn’t tell who had initiated the kiss, but you were suddenly so intimately joined together it was like all the air had been sucked out of your lungs, compressing your body in an effort to fuse to his. His strong arms around you couldn’t shield you from the confetti being thrown around (for the match, of course, not just your kiss), nor the catcalls of your friends. You only pulled away when you felt James’ tongue start exploring a little too far, mindful that half the people you knew were watching. You wore matching grins as you parted, foreheads still pressed together and breathing heavy.

While it might have taken four years, innumerable (accidental) kisses and one failed set-up plan to get there, you were sure in your heart that James Potter was the only boy you ever wanted to kiss. And so you did, over and over for the years to come, and you cheered and applauded enthusiastically as the seemingly never ending list of friends and family told stories of receiving a coveted James Potter kiss throughout the years, knowing you were the only one who got to be his bride.

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ritartistside · 1 month ago

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I need someone to make a 3+ hour video essay about the history Reed900

The origins, where it came from

The first art, fic, other fan content made for it

The most popular head-canons, Nines getting a name, different interpretations of the personalities

How the most agreed upon quality of Gavin Reed, loving coffee, comes from a scene, where the importance of him asking coffee is minuscule and it is not even confirmed that he even likes it, and it leading to the other super popular head-canon of him having insomnia

The mods and modding community

The most influential fics

The comics, and the shear amount of dubbed vids of them on youtube

The movie, the short film and the behind the scenes stuff for it. Neil Newbon engaging with the cast

It becoming the top DBH ship, with basically nonexistent characters

#reed900 #gavin reed #rk900 #gavin x rk900 #detroit become human #dbh gavin #dbh nines #dbh rk900 #dbh #video essay

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superhaught · 9 months ago

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To Be Another Notch in Your Bedpost

Pairing: Leighton Murray x Reader

Warnings: explicit smut! (18+ MDNI) implied sub/bratty Leighton, implied dom/brat tamer reader, one night stand

(This is my first ever published fic please be gentle! I want to start taking requests for anything Renee/Regina/Leighton so, ya know, tell me if ya like it and wanna see more writing from me)

Word Count: 2700, Part 1/?

Reader has a one night stand with the Leighton Murray.

Explicit Content Below

This party was everything you hated. Loud, unintelligible music. Drunken idiots everywhere. Sticky spills all over the floor and sweaty bodies brushing against you no matter how much you tried to stay out of the way.

You wouldn’t have even come out tonight if it wasn’t for the fact that your friend basically dragged you kicking and screaming out of your dorm and away from your comfortable Netflix binging. You remained steadfast, though. She could bring you to the party but she couldn’t make you enjoy it. While she danced in the middle of it all, you continued to nurse your one cup of punch against the wall, allowing yourself the guilty pleasure of people watching.

It wasn’t that you thought you were better than your peers, you just couldn’t match their vibe. You couldn’t let go enough. You couldn’t become uninhibited. Your first year at Essex had been an overwhelming one. Making good friends had been hard. Staying on top of your classes even more so. And finding common ground with the legacy and/or wealthy students had been damn near impossible. Your student job in the library was draining, and your dating life had been nonexistent. This party felt like the absolute last thing you needed to decompress.

You were just about to throw in the towel and say goodbye to your friend when someone unexpected approached you.

“Hey wallflower,” she said, addressing you, “a few of the Theta guys are concerned that you’re bored or drugged. Either way, they want it to be resolved.”

The girl was Leighton Murray. A rising queen bee on campus. She was deeply connected to the school, extremely popular within multiple social groups on campus, and easily one of the most stunning women you have ever seen by far.

You chuckle awkwardly and smile at the blonde, “Ah. Well, I am sorry for disturbing the vibe of the party. I know that the frats work hard to make these go well. But truly, I’m neither bored nor drugged, just… not fitting in.”

Leighton raises an eyebrow at you, “I take it this isn’t your usual scene, then?”

“Not at all,” you admit. “I’m much more comfortable in quiet settings with fewer people to worry about.”

Leighton nods and takes a sip from her own drink, glancing over the crowd thoughtfully. She turns back to you, “What made you come, then?”

You shrug, “I was forced by my friend. Apparently my preferred Friday night of watching Queer Eye and baking brownies for myself in the dorm kitchens depresses her.”

Leighton laughs, “It’s not necessarily a bad thing but definitely not how you should be spending your Friday nights in college…” she looks you up and down for a moment, clearly checking you out, “are you… ya know?” She makes her wrist go limp in that recognizable signal and you can’t help but chuckle.

“What? Gay?” She looks a little embarrassed but you smile warmly and give her a reassuring nod, “Yes, I am. Very much so, don’t worry.”

She nods and takes another drink, and you mirror her. Word spreads quickly amongst the sapphic community at Essex and Leighton had been a big topic of conversation lately. The story was that she had recently come out and was making up for lost time. It wasn’t something that you judged her for, but now that she was here chatting you up, it did make you question the depth of her intentions.

You tilt your head questioningly at her and decide to be bold, “We haven’t connected yet, have we?”

Her cheeks flush and she hides her face with her cup again as she responds, “No… we have not…”

“So were you truly sent by the frat guys to come check on me or did you… maybe volunteer yourself for the task?”

She feigns offense at your question and then shrugs, “I will neither confirm nor deny.”

You flash her a knowing smirk and take another sip of your drink. You’re more than interested in her, but you’re also more than nervous. Casual hook-ups have never been your thing and Leighton was the type of woman that you’d want to spend more than just one exciting night with. But for all you knew, that’s not what she wanted right now.

“Well…” she begins quietly, “since you aren’t enjoying yourself here, would it be okay for me to take you somewhere else?”

You slowly nod your head and meet her eyes, “Can I ask you a question first, Leighton?”

She nods back, “Yeah, what’s up?”

“What are you looking for, right now?”

She gives you a confused expression, “What do you mean?”

“Do you want one fun night and nothing more, or someone who might last longer than one fun night?”

She considers the question for a moment, “Is it important for you to know the answer to that before we go further?”

“It is,” you reply, “I just want to manage my expectations.”

She nods in understanding, “You’re the first person who’s actually asked that… honestly, I’m just looking to feel good. Lately, that has resulted in a string of fun nights… but I’m not opposed to having more than that, really.”

“So, you’re saying that if you hit it off with someone and they asked you out, you wouldn’t outright reject them?”

She nods, “Right. Does that… help you with your concerns?”

“Yeah, it does. Thank you.” You smile again and she smiles back, seemingly moved by your tender nature. You hold out your hand to her and finally introduce yourself and she echoes your name back to you as she happily shakes your hand.

“So… about my offer?”

You giggle and nod, “Get me out of here, Leighton.”

The girl grabs your hand and quickly leads you out of the frat party. You’re able to quickly shoot your friend an explanatory text so that she won’t worry about your whereabouts, and soon enough, you're trailing behind Leighton Murray as she takes you across campus back to her dorm.

You hold onto her hand the entire time. She swiftly unlocks the door to her suite, which is thankfully empty at the moment, and she pulls you straight into her room, shutting the door behind you.

You lock eyes and smile, a little nervously on both of your parts. It was comforting to you that there was some anxiety for her as well. But you’ve never been one to let that anxiousness prevent you from taking the lead. You bring your hands up to her cheeks and cradle her softly as you pull her in towards you and close the distance between your lips. Her eyes flutter shut and a small sigh escapes her as you kiss. The softness of her, the lipgloss she wears, the perfume on her neck… all of it completely tantalizes you and you suddenly have no trouble falling into her completely.

Her hands drift to the small of your back, then she squeezes your ass playfully and yanks you a little closer to her, which prompts you to gently push her backwards so that she’s against the door. Leighton gasps lightly and you smile in the kiss, knowing that your actions have pleased her. Your parted lips give her the opportunity to graze her tongue over your bottom lip and you eagerly accept it and meet her with yours, deepening the kiss.

You begin to trail your hands down her body, letting your fingertips brush skin where it’s exposed and fidgeting with the fabric of her dress as you go down to her hips and hold onto her firmly. Your touch sends a shiver up her spine and she moans. You pause the kiss for just a moment so that you can take a much needed deep breath, but you keep your nose and forehead pressed against her and meet her gorgeous blue eyes again for a second and you can’t help but be in awe, “fuck…” you breathe.

She nods eagerly and pulls you back in for more. You push her back against the door again, keeping her pinned in place as you gently shift her hair out of the way of her neck and you lean down to place kisses on her skin beneath her jawline and along her pulse point.

She sighs and melts, biting her lower lip and burying her fingers into the hair at the back of your neck to hold onto you. Your lips and tongue explore her soft, sensitive skin and you playfully nibble at her earlobe which makes her gasp before you return to her lips and continue making out with her.

You feel her start to rock her hips, trying to grind against you in search of friction where she needs it. You smile and tease her, slowing down your movements and taking your time to worship the other side of her neck and each collarbone.

She groans, “oh fuck… you… tease...”

You smirk and whisper into her ear, “Feeling needy, Leight? If you want something, you’d better ask for it.”

She whines and bites into her lower lip hard but then indignantly shakes her head, deciding to try to maintain a little bit of brattiness rather than just caving right away.

Your hands drop down to her thighs and start to toy with the bottom hem of her dress, inching the fabric upwards bit by bit and making her squirm while you kiss her collarbones and as much of her chest as is exposed by the low cut.

Your fingertips dance over her skin and give her goosebumps as you touch the backs of her thighs feather-light, keeping your pelvis just out of her reach so that when she rocks her hips, she doesn’t find anything to make contact with. You find a great deal of amusement in watching this powerful woman quickly crumble. She pulls your hair harder and gets even more vocal with her whines and groans, cursing in your ear and desperately seeking more deliberate touch from you.

You keep kissing her neck, touching your lips and tongue softly to her hairline and feeling her pounding heartbeat. You barely hear it, a faint whisper escapes her, “please…”

You raise an eyebrow and pull back to look at her face, “Hm? What was that?”

Leighton grumbles and whispers it again, “please… please.”

“Please, what?”

“Oh my god please fucking fuck me!” She finally blurts.

You smile, satisfied, and decide to oblige her instead of gloating any further. You kiss her lips once more before lowering yourself onto your knees between her legs, her mouth falls open and she stares down at you in awe.

You look up at her and maintain eye contact as you hike up the fabric of her dress even more, until it bunches around her hips and exposes her lace panties and an intoxicating inch of skin between her navel and the underwear. You reach your head up and press a soft, cruel kiss to her center over the fabric which makes her jut her hips and groan, falling back against the door a little bit. You can feel how hot and wet she already is and you try not to let that go to your head.

You slide your hands down the skin of her legs and follow your fingers with your lips, kissing her gently, until your hands reach her heels and you start to take them off of her one at a time while watching her face.

“You’re so gorgeous, Leighton.” You tell her.

She just flushes and nods, helping you by kicking her shoes off and out of the way. Your hands return to her thighs and then slowly, you hook your fingers into the waistband of her panties and you start to pull them down. She moans and you feel an overwhelming wave of heat race through your own body and settle between your legs. You watch her eyes as you pull the fabric down and she carefully steps out of it, then you take a moment to admire her like this and you feel like all of this must be a dream.

“Are you ready, Leighton?”

She nods emphatically, “God yes… please…”

You nod and help her drape one of her legs over our shoulder as you get yourself into a solid position and bring your face between her thighs.

She leans back, putting more of her weight against the door and with one more affirmative nod, you extend your tongue and drag it along her.

You hear her moan and can sense her letting her head fall back against the door as she winds her fingers into your hair and holds your head firmly in place so that you are less inclined to pull away.

Your senses are flooded by the taste and feel of her and your own eyes roll back before you shut them completely and draw your focus into pleasing this incredible woman. Your lips and tongue start to work on her slowly, you moan against her and she grinds against you and you can tell that she’s already anxious for release.

You drag your tongue languidly through her folds and pause to push it inside of her before returning to her clit and circling the sensitive bundle of nerves with the flat of your tongue. You can easily tell what she likes and wants more of and it doesn’t take long at all to build her up to climax. Your lower face is already drenched in her but you stay in place and maintain the pace and motions that she’s responding to, feeling all of her muscles tense, her breathing quicken and her noises intensify. With just a few more movements of your tongue she finally releases with a long, drawn out moan and you start to slow your ministrations as she rides out her orgasm on your face. She beams widely and laughs joyously through the waves of ecstasy, breathing hard, chest heaving.

You do your best to clean her up and then you quickly stand and help support her as her legs weaken. With a simple lift, you bring her from the door to her bed and lie her down and she curls up with a big smile on her face and says, “holy shit…”

You laugh and crawl into the bed next to her and wrap your arms around her while she rests for a moment, catching her breath and regaining her bearings. You spend a few quiet minutes just spooning her and rubbing her back gently and she smiles and hums happily.

Eventually, she whispers, “You know, I’ve slept with a lot of people recently… but what you just did for me… doesn’t even compare. I feel like you’re on a whole different graph…”

You laugh, “What? That can’t be true.”

“No, I'm being one hundred percent serious. That was insane.”

You smile and get close to her ear and whisper to her, “It doesn’t have to be over…”

“Well right, I need to return the favor…” She starts to roll over toward you but you hold her in place and stop her, leaning over her shoulder and kissing her neck lightly, “sure, you could do that, but I’m talking about it not being over for you…” you whisper against her ear.

“Fuck…” she groans, “are you going for some kind of record?”

“I just want to make you feel good…”

“You’re unreal…”

You flash her a playful smirk and she gets up out of the bed and slips a sock over the door handle to her room, “Bela will understand.”

You both giggle and then she excitedly gets back into the bed with you, climbing onto your lap and immediately capturing your lips in more passionate kisses.

The night skips on, continuing to excite and pleasure you both, and you remind yourself no short of a hundred times to thank your friend for making you come to the party.

Next Chapter

#leighton murray #tslocg #sex lives of college girls #leighton murray fanfiction #leighton murray smut #smut with plot #renee rapp #renee rapp fanfiction #original writing

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hannieehaee · 11 months ago

Note

hii I loved loser!chan fics and I was wondering if you could do loser!jihoon as well? anyway you want works for me I’m just insane over jihoon being all subby and your fics are amazing!!!

18+ / mdi

content: loser!jihoon, virgin!jihoon, sub!jihoon, afab reader, smut, dry humping, handjob penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 2466

a/n: ive always thought of writing loser!jihoon u read my mind lmao i hope i made him loser enough <3

masterlist

jihoon wasnt too much of a social person. it had been like this throughout elementary and all the way too high school, even manifesting up until college. currently, he had his usual group of friends, but he was as still pretty much a very antisocial guy. he liked it this way. it kept things simple.

his lack of socialization, however, also came with a lack of social skills, which in very obvious fashion also meant he lacked experience in social situations; dating included.

his romantic life had been fully nonexistent thus far, making him fall far behind most of his friends, who were all thoroughly experienced in one way or another.

it's not like jihoon didnt have any interest in that area of his life. it was just that he was too shy. a bit of a loser too, to be honest. this was a trait of his that he had wanted to finally rid himself of, which wad how he ended up attending one of his good friend's mingyu's many frat parties.

this wasnt his usual scene. he had been invited to these gatherings multiple times, but always turned them down, knowing he could never keep up with his popular friends (not that he wanted to anyway; as he said, this was just not his scene). however, something his friend mingyu had said about a week back had caught his attention, making him insist that mingyu let him tag along this once.

he had been in the cafeteria at the time, looking across the room as he usually did while his friends engaged in conversation. he was the only member of the friend group who was not a member of the frat, so it was easy for him to blend in the background most times. this time, however, mingyu had caught sight of what was keeping jihoon so distracted. this had just gotten interesting.

it was you.

by some strike of luck, it turned out that mingyu knew who you were. you were a frequent attendee to his frat parties. he knew you pretty well, actually. had spoken to you a few times, and coincidentally knew you had a bit of a thing for his friend jihoon – at least that's what he gathered from your occasional inquiries as to where he was any time he'd be absent from mingyu's parties. mingyu had never attempted to hook you guys up before, but he had decided in that same moment that he liked you for jihoon, which only meant one thing; he had to play matchmaker.

considering jihoon's clear interest in you as he stared and stared while sighing at the pretty sight, mingyu felt very justified in not-so casually dropping the fact that you were usually in attendance to his parties, meaning that you'd very likely be at his following party. this caught jihoon's attention immediately, who tried to nonchalantly make some excuse as to why he'd wanna be in attendance this time around. mingyu considered it a mission accomplished and simply awaited the fateful day of the party.

at the party itself, mingyu immediately got to work, making sure jihoon remained alone and in close proximity to your location – also letting you know that jihoon was wandering somewhere in the frat house, taking note of your smile as he relayed that piece of information to you. as soon as he located the two of you and deemed the situation manageable for jihoon, he went his own way to party with his friends. he had a hunch that it'd work out on its own. he had seen you sneak a few glances at his friend tonight already, which gave him all the confidence to leave the two of you to eventually interact.

it didn't take long for the two of you to bump into each other at some lone corner of the frat (it's not like jihoon had been keeping track of your movements and making a calculated effort to incidentally bump into you in a not-so casual way). upon crossing paths, you immediately engaged in conversation, rendering jihoon slightly speechless at your friendly disposition.

although he had a hard time keeping up with your outgoing personality, – barely being able to mutter full responses as his eyes avoided yours at all costs – you seemed interested enough to suggest the two of you move onto a quieter part of the house in order to have a better chance at understanding each other.

that remote location manifested itself as mingyu's room, which had conveniently been left open for jihoon to access (something gyu had made sure to let jihoon know about, "in case he grew tired or something").

for some reason, sitting on the edge of the bed by your side as a booming party occurred downstairs felt a bit too intimate for jihoon, someone who was not used to any sort of interaction with women of any kind, much less the girl he'd been secretly crushing on for months. you seemed relaxed, though, simply maintaining sporadic conversation as the two of you enjoyed the muffled music coming from downstairs.

at some point you seemed to sense his unnerved state, deciding to call attention to it.

"parties not your thing?"

"oh, uh .. yeah. just not used to the environment , i guess."

"this is my first time seeing you at one of these. what changed?"

"h– how'd you know it's my first time?"

"i wouldve noticed you before."

oh. oh.

"why do you think i brought you in here, jihoon?"

"you know ... you know my name?"

you had scoot closer now, sitting side by side with your legs gracing against his, which were stuck together as he made himself as small as possible.

"of course i do. i've been keeping tabs on you jihoon."

he felt himself shiver at your proximity, despite the fact that everything was still very much friendly and platonic. but he couldnt help himself in feeling shy at the implications of being alone with you whilst sitting closely to each other on the bed.

"o- oh."

"jihoon? why wont you look at me? are you okay?", you took your hand and placed it under his chin, making sure he was now facing you.

your face was far too close to his, and the expression you carried was not one of worry, but one of want.

"n- no, i mean, yes. it's just–"

"just what, jihoonie?", you tilted your head, somehow coming into even closer proximity to his lips.

he gave up the clueless act first, being unable to control himself in his need for you.

"please ... just– please."

that was enough for you to close the gap, sighing softly against his lips as he froze, unknowing in what to do. his arms also remained on his sides as his posture stayed rigid. luckily for him, you didn't mind his temporary inactivity, simply urging him with your own hands and lips to take some action.

these notions were enough for him to nervously begin to kiss you back, copying all your movements as he opened his mouth to allow yours in. his hands were also now awkwardly resting on the small of your back as he leaned a bit towards you. it was all very awkward on his part, but he was truly having the time of his life as you made love to his mouth.

your kiss had quickly grown filthy, making jihoon's eyes roll back as he attempted to keep up. you only kissed him like this for a short while before pulling away breathless, inquiring for more.

"can i? will you let me take charge, jihoonie?", you said in a hot breath against his lips, eyes still glued to his pout.

"i– ive never ..."

"that's okay ... i'll show you, jihoon. ill make you feel good. i can ... i cant teach you."

he wasnt sure if you'd meant to sound like a siren's song when you said this but the effect was just the same, because he found himself breathlessly nodding in agreement, allowing you to lay him down as you straddled him on the bed.

just moments later and you were already starting a slow and sensual grind against his hips as you made a show of arching your back and throwing your head back at what was likely just minimal pleasure for you. for jihoon, however, it was the most action he'd ever gotten. he always assumed that his first act of intimacy with a girl would be a quick peck, not the girl of his dreams dry humping him on his friend's bed.

he took a leap by putting his hands on your hips, unable to control his moans and the way his hips pushed upwards a bit to match yours. this seemingly caught your attention, causing you to make eye contact with him once more before leaning down and connecting your lips.

once again, he was unable to help himself in kissing you back, although sloppy and inexperienced, he enjoyed your kiss all the same, nearly losing his mind at your ability to turn such a sweet act into one of pure desperation so quickly.

"always wanted you, jihoon ...", you breathed against his lips, "knew you were friends with gyu, so i kept coming here hoping to see you, but you never showed up. made me wait so long for you ..", you pouted.

"i– i didnt know. i wanted you too, i swear ..."

you gave him a sweet smile, caressing his cheek softly as your hips slowed down for a moment, "i know, hoonie ... which is why you're gonna be good for me, right, baby?"

"y– yes. i– anything. ill do anything you want, just–", he was interrupted with yet another kiss; a kiss which he instinctively gave back without even having to process it.

"anything? oh, jihoonie ... gonna have so much fun with you."

his confirmation had been enough for you to take further action. jihoon wasn't sure how it ended up happening, but eventually you had managed to undress the two of you, now sitting in the exact same position as before, – you on top of him as he laid back on the bed – except this time fully nude.

from the moment you'd thrown off your shirt, jihoon had been unable to stop staring at your tits. he didnt wanna sound like a total creep or anything, but he wouldve given anything to bury his head in them and never come back. luckily for him, you seemed to read his mind pretty well (re: took a hint from his endless staring and licking of his lips) and leaned down, enticing him to kiss your tits by bringing his face close to them.

with a quick nod in confirmation, jihoon went to town on your tits. he didnt know he had it in him, but his lips and tongue explored every inch of your breasts, breathing against them at how supple they felt under his touch. he drank in every single sigh you let out at the feeling, with his arousal growing to an extent he didn't know was possible.

"oh, hoonie ... fuck ... such a good boy. play with my tits, shit ..."

your hands eventually reached out to play with his dick, which he had been neglecting thus far. his actions halted upon the feeling of your warm hands encompassing him, jerking him in a way that had his kisses against your chest becoming even more sensual in nature as he moaned into your breasts.

"you– oh ... that's .... please ...."

"like it, baby? want me to keep playing with your dick?"

"yes, fuck. please! want–"

"but, baby ... dont you want my cunt?"

that statement took him to another planet altogether.

your cunt? you were going to fuck him? oh. oh.

the simple thought of you wrapping around him, bouncing up and down as he lost his mind under you almost had him cumming. the best he could do in that moment was lift his head from your chest and beg you to please let him have it as he kissed your lips.

you took advantage of his begging to lick his lips, teasing his tongue with your own as you positioned yourself to lower yourself on him. jihoon was sure you could feel his heartbeat almost beat straight out of his chest as you pressed your hand against his chest for support, but he didnt care. he wanted you to know how carnally he wanted you.

"this is your first time, right, baby?"

"yes, b– but its okay! i want it, i swear!"

"oh, i know, pretty ... just wanted to make sure. gonna make you mine after this. you know that, right?", you leaned down to kiss his neck as you said this, making him shiver at the thought, "gonna be my pretty little jihoon that only i get to have ..."

"yes ... yours, just– wanna be yours, please ..."

that was all you needed to finally sink down on him, moaning out at the feeling. similarly, he arched his back against the mattress at the warmth and tightness he felt around his cock; a pleasure he never knew was humanly possible.

you rode him like a champ, wasting no time in speeding up and he himself lost his mind. he couldnt help it when his hips began to cant up against yours, loving the way you threw your head back at the impact. at some point all rhythm between the two of you was lost, making you hump against each other like you were in heat.

"hoonie! gonna cum, please ... cum with me, pretty. wanna feel you cum."

"gonna cum for you ... feel so fucking good ...", he whined at you, knowing his end was right there.

the two of you cried out and held each other through your respective ends. his came slightly before yours, making him wince at the overstimulation as you tightened up around him after he had fully ridden his high. but the feeling was extremely pleasurable nonetheless.

laying down next to him, you cuddled up against his side, giving his chest a sweet peck before gesturing at him to look at you.

he felt shy making eye contact, but felt less so than before. he felt such a strong connection with you at this moment, smiling at knowing that you liked him back (at least going off on your rambles as you fucked him).

"i like you. so much," he interrupted whatever you were about to say, not even realizing his words until after he'd uttered them.

you chuckled at his widened eyes upon realizing what he'd said, "i know, hoonie. i like you too."

you stayed quiet after that, choosing to fall asleep in his arms as he held you against him. he wasnt sure what exactly came next, but he was content in that moment.

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604to647 · 12 days ago

Text

Tiny Tim

A The Rockford Portfolio Christmas Special

5.2K/ Detective Tim Rockford x fem!reader

Summary: Tim takes you to the precinct Christmas party.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI pls). Established relationship, soft!Tim, nicknames as usual (Shutterbug, baby, gorgeous). Semi public sex, fingering, unprotected PiV, thrill of being caught, alcohol consumption (reader is tipsy, but this is a devoted relationship with deep trust, not dubcon). Reader wears a dress. Bad 'A Christmas Carol' jokes.

A/N: This is a holiday love letter to all you lovelies who read The Rockford Portfolio 🥹🥹 Thank you thank you for all the love you’ve shown these two - they are one of my favourites to write, I'm always so encouraged by the sweet response I receive on their stories 🥹 This instalment is probably the only one I’ve written that makes more sense if you’ve read some of the others - there are a few callbacks, little winks for those of you who enjoy their stories 🤭 Thank you thank you again and happy holidays! 🎄

Now available: Fic companion Christmas carol 🎵 Detective, It’s Cold Outside 🎵

Dividers by @saradika-graphics / Series Masterlist

Tim watches the scene from across the bar.

It’s like a Renaissance fresco come to life, a modern-day depiction of royal court with you as the monarch at its centre - sitting up high, you’re perched on a barstool looking radiant and gorgeous in a pretty holiday dress that drapes off your curves and cascades over your legs; your feet dangle off the ground, swinging to and fro without a care. You’re surrounded by a crowd of cops who have arranged themselves in a semi-circle with you at their epicentre - those on your left and right stand or sit on their own stools, while the officers in front of you fan across a stretch of tables. Every person is angled towards you like a moth trying to fly closer to their flame, all eyes are trained, adoring and fawning, on your pretty face as you laugh and finish up what you were saying. They hang on your every word, and when you make eye contact or touch your hand to an arm in order to emphasize a point in your story, Tim swears the lucky recipient literally lights up a little.

Tim wonders if he should have told you that you’re kind of a celebrity at the precinct. No, not because he’s yours. Yes, it tickled his colleagues to no end that the gruff grizzly bear detective that was Timothy Rockford had been tamed by your gentle hand; they had seen evidence of his previously thought nonexistent softness and docility whenever you would visit. But he could never claim credit for the esteem in which you were beheld – your renown was all your own.

Even before tonight’s party, there had been a tittering among the various law enforcement departments that you would be in attendance. Those who had only seen you in passing or heard tales of how Detective Rockford’s lady love had provided much direct or indirect assistance to their cases, were eager to meet you. No sooner had the two of you entered the bar where tonight’s party was being held than you were swept out of Tim’s arms to make the acquaintance of what seemed like a never-ending queue of his colleagues. It’s been a while now since Tim lost track of you, sulking solitarily until his partner, Detective Arnold Calloway, came over with a conciliatory beer and pointed to where you’re currently holding court.

The team from Cipher, who had used your Graffiti Alley photos to decrypt the Pie Distribution playbook, are at your feet - ignoring the now lukewarm drinks on their tabletops in favour of trading quippy witticisms with you in between their rounds of raucous laughter at your jokes.

O’Brien and his team who had made up Surveillance Teams Alpha and Bravo the night you obtained information from Buchanan’s girlfriend in the restaurant bathroom that would lead to the apprehension of The Accountant, flank your left. Whenever you tilt your radiant face towards them, they take full advantage - commanding your attention so they can regale you with more detailed stories about the busts and raids that resulted from your intel.

Tech guys that used the meta data from your aquarium photos to track the movements of Grandma Ursula’s henchman, resulting in the retrieval of the missing briefcase that broke open the case, gather to your right – keeping a watchful eye on the cocktail glass you hold in your hand, prepared to replace it with a ready refill at a moment’s notice should you desire.

The head of Financial Crimes and a few of her analysts who run what has affectionately been named “Operation Spring Roll” (per your request), an intricate and far-reaching money laundering investigation kicked off by your keen observations at The Midnight Palace, slip in to occupy the empty seats next to their colleagues in Cipher, bringing appetizers and bowls of bar snacks as offerings.

Every single one of your admirers appears entranced by your charm and the warmth of your bright aura; convinced that you’re the wittiest, most intriguing person in this bar, they loathe to be torn away from your sweet face and the way it’s alight with genuine joy and holiday mirth. Tim is all too familiar with how they feel. He starts to make his way across the bar – individually or collectively, his coworkers have bogarted your attention all night and he’s had enough. He misses you.

Tim barely makes his presence known, arriving and stopping at the periphery of your audience where your eyes find him immediately, as if drawn to him.

Almost impossibly, your entire face lights up even more and you hold your arm out in his direction; with a hypnotic dance of your hand that’s part flirty wave, part sprinkling of fairy dust over your devotees, you beckon him, “Timmy!!!”

He sees a few cops mouth, smirking, “Timmy?!” and Chen from Cipher actually puts her hands together in prayer and says Thank You to a deity above for this gift with which Tim is sure he will be mercilessly teased later. But Tim doesn’t care. No matter how you call, he will always come.

Threading through the maze of chairs and bodies, he reaches you just as you step off the bottom rung of your stool – catching you easily right before you throw your arms around his neck.

“Hi Detective,” you coo, melodic voice a whisper against his lips.

“Hi Shutterbug,” Tim radiates a happiness that you feel as much as you can see - you’re finally back in his arms.

“Timmy. They all want to talk to me about police stuff, and I’m running out of things I know,” your silly tipsy face conveys some unwarranted trepidation, as if there was any chance in hell you could ever disappoint this group of smitten cops.

“You want to know how to make a bunch of cops scatter?” the twinkle of mischief in Tim’s eyes is mirrored back to him in yours as you nod, nuzzling your nose against his in conspiratorial agreement.

He kisses you.

And not in a tempered and chaste way one might expect at a work event, where superiors are in attendance and professionalism might be monitored even while off the clock.

But a full out, no holds barred, deep and passionate kiss that leaves Tim’s colleagues slack-jawed in shock, some even avert their gaze, embarrassed – as if they know they will have to staunchly deny having witnessed this side of their co-worker should they ever be interrogated about its existence. Tim’s mouth opens and wordlessly demands entry – you happily obey your detective’s directive. It’s truly beyond your understanding how anyone (you, these cops, anyone breathing) could ever deny Tim anything - his very being so commanding and reassuring that it only feels natural for you to surrender to him every time. Smoothing your tongue over Tim’s, you let him chase you to the furthest corners of your mouth; sighing when he catches you and licks behind your teeth in victory.

Though most of the onlookers have now left the two of you to your reunion, a few of Tim’s cheekier squad members remain. “Woooooooooooo!” the cheers from the surronding crowd are playful and jovial; there are a couple of whoop, whoops and arm pumps from some of the older detectives who were clearly Arsenio Hall fans.

“Alright, break it up, break it up,” Tim gruffs as you bury yourself into his chest, giggling. The remaining cops swiftly do as Tim says, going off in different directions – to order more drinks, out for a smoke, all eager to spread the lore about Detective Rockford’s kryptonite to their fellow jolly drunks, leaving you and Tim to stare dreamily into each other’s eyes in the middle of the bar.

Now that the two of you have a moment to yourselves, you can once again hear the bar’s music system that’s been blasting Christmas carols all night. Bing Crosby’s White Christmas comes over the speakers and you and Tim, still lost in one another, begin to slow dance – Tim presses his forehead to yours as he holds you close, finally letting himself relax now that his broad frame can once again melt and mold to the softness of your body.

Sighing in contentment, you lift your hands to run your gentle fingers through Tim’s rough facial scruff – a gesture that’s as soothing for him as it for you; it’s been great getting to know Tim’s colleagues and super entertaining listening to their stories and jokes, but this is where you’ll choose to be every time, “This has been so fun, Detective. I don’t know why you don’t like the precinct holiday parties.”

Tim closes his eyes and gives a little snort, “You try being named Tim at Christmas time around a bunch of drunk cops. The ‘Tiny Tim’ references usually start after the third round.”

You giggle, face now impish and eyes dancing with merriment, “Well, they just don’t know what Tiny Tim is capable of.”

Tim growls, grasp tightening around your waist, “…not that tiny.” Squealing, you crash your lips to Tim’s, delighting in your detective’s playful touch that’s now amorously roaming your backside. The two of you, lips never parting, sway over to a darker, less populated area of the bar – leaving Tim’s colleagues to their reveries.

“Ah, well, Detective Rockford, here’s the thing: I know for a fact that there is absolutely nothing tiny about Tiny Tim,” your hand trails down your boyfriend’s hard chest, smoothing over the front of his fancy dress pants to cup his bulge.

Tim jerks sharply to the sensation of your delicate fingers massaging his balls through the fabric; his voice lowers to a rumbled warning, “Shutterbug…”

“Mhhmmm?” you hum cheekily against Detective Rockford’s plush mouth.

“If you keep this up, I’m going to have to arrest myself for public indecency.”

Still drinking in the harmonious ring of your resulting laugh, Tim doesn’t see you subtly look around to see if there are any prying eyes trained on the two of you. When you find none, you hurriedly tug Tim down the hallway that leads to the restrooms; the bar has individual bathrooms instead of gendered ones, and you quickly find one that’s vacant, dragging Tim inside.

Tim looks surprised to find himself in the relatively well-lit bathroom, “Baby, what are…?”

His adorably naïve question is cut off when you push him up against the wall with surprising force from your soft hands. The party has been fun, but you were away from Tim for entirely too much of it.

Though you’re sure it wasn’t by design, nearly every captivating story you heard tonight has heralded your Tim as brave, clever, tough – never backing down in the face of particularly dangerous or puzzling elements of his cases; intimidating scumbag perps that deserved to get a little decency scared into them; displaying incredible feats of intelligence that left his colleagues amazed. Most of these stories you’ve actually heard before, but you learned tonight that Tim’s version often downplayed his own contributions and prowess – seeing your detective through the lens of his fellow law enforcement officers, hearing their accolades and seeing just how clearly they admire and respect your brilliant boyfriend has made you beam with pride.

And warm with arousal. Tim’s competency and humbleness are a one-two punch combination that never fails to turn you on, and by this point of the evening, you’ve heard a lot of stories evidencing both. You can’t wait any longer to have him.

“There, Detective. We’re not in public anymore,” you purr, scraping your kitten claws over the black cashmere of the sweater you gifted him, your hands meet in the middle of Tim’s expansive chest to give his smart, silk tie a sharp and quick tug; your cheeky move has absolutely no effect on the mountainous stance of man before you, and instead tips you into his space. Detective Rockford catches you with little effort, and when you see the smirk he throws your way, you drunkenly chuckle and allow to Tim descend on your lips once more. Sighing, completely enamoured with the handsome man before you, you throw your arms around his thick neck and give yourself over to Tim’s hungry kisses, matching his tongue stroke for stroke - whimpering as he nibbles and tugs on your plush bottom lip.

“Feeling needy, gorgeous?” Tim murmurs against your pout, hands gripping your ass in his heavy palms through the luxurious fabric of the dress that he’s been admiring on you all evening. You lean back and nod, giving him a coquettish, doe-eyed look, “Needed you all night, Timmy. Felt like I haven’t seen you at all, but I love how everyone’s been telling me stories about how brilliant and vital you are. All I’ve wanted to do is show you that I feel the same way.”

“Oh, baby, I’ve missed you too,” groans Tim as you claw your nails down his sweater, pressing hard through to the crisp dress shirt underneath – the way both garments stretched taut across his broad frame has you licking your lips; you start lowering to your knees, eyes already trailing to where Tim’s impressive cock is straining valiantly against his dress pants.

To your surprise, Tim’s hands slip under your arms and lift you back up – you whine at being denied his cock in your mouth, but the sweetness of his expression makes it impossible to be mad, “Don’t want you to get that pretty dress dirty on the floor, gorgeous.” Tim’s thoughtfulness combined with the firm way he maneuvers your body towards the bathroom sink has you positively gushing, any disappointment disappearing.

Standing behind you so that you’re both watching Tim’s bear paw hands snake up your chest, your detective gropes your breasts over the front of your dress and listens as you sigh and whinny; you slump back against your tank of a man, perfectly content to let him have his way with your body.

Still palming full fistfuls of your boobs, Tim’s long fingers reach up to pull down the neckline of your dress so that your tits come spilling out, eager to greet his hands. His mouth finds the sweet spot of your neck that he claimed as his long ago, and you watch him continue to paw and knead your breasts, finding your already peaked nipples with ease. Rolling, pinching, teasing your hardened buds between the rough pads of his fingers, Tim murmurs against your skin, “We gotta be quick and quiet - can you do that for me, Shutterbug?”

You meet the dark gaze of your boyfriend in the mirror and nod feebly; the reminder that you’re at a party full of cops, cops that work day in and day out with the fromidable man behind you who looks like he wants nothing more than to devour you, has you clenching pathetically around nothing.

Nothing escapes the eagle eyes of your detective – he responds to your desperation with a final squeeze of your tits before raking his monster hands, hard and gripping, down your willing body; frantically rucking up the skirt of your dress and bunching the festive fabric above your ass.

The sound of Tim’s belt buckle clicking open has you arching your back, ass wiggling and eyes closing in giddy anticipation.

Smack.

You yelp in delight at the bright sting blooming on your ass cheek from Tim’s open palm. He chuckles as he pulls your lace panties to the side, “Keep your eyes on the mirror, baby.”

The goofily grinning and sassy-eyed you in the mirror chirps, “Yes, Detective!” about to give him a cheeky salute when you’re rendered witless, dissolving into a puddle of lust at the feel of Tim’s thick fingers gliding through your folds.

He doesn’t tease you for long - finding you already wet and willing, Tim easily slides two of his fingers into your sopping hole; he bites down at the base of your neck and you keen as your boyfriend’s long reaching touch grazes your softest, most intimate parts.

Your reflection unravels and whimpers, “Pl-, please, Tim!”

Detective Rockford’s obsidian gaze meets yours in the glass and he acquiesces to the request you can’t quite vocalize with a quickening of his thrusts; the slap, slap, slap of his palm meeting your desire drenched pussy echoes off the walls of the small bar bathroom like the beat of a naughty Christmas carol.

Spurred on by the buzz of tonight’s alcohol and the titillating knowledge that Tim’s colleagues are only a short hallway away on the other side of the bathroom door, and that any or all of them could hear you or even come knocking the next moment, you start to crest shamefully quick. His knowledge of your body’s pleasure so familiar and intimate, Tim recognizes the fluttering of your walls and swiftly adds a third finger. You cry out, one hand flying up to muffle the sound as you press back against your detective’s hard chest; the other Tim cradles in his free paw and slips up your skirt and down the front of your panties, big hand over yours - using your lithe fingers like a quill to scrawl his command to your clit.

“Come for me.” Tim’s baritone growl is the last thing you hear before the air in the room rushes past your ears and you shudder at the silence that seemingly rings; biting down on your own hand, tears spring to your eyes at the sting of pain and the force of the orgasm that hits you.

You barely register as Tim’s fingers slow through your come down, withdrawing and finding their way to his mouth. The you in the mirror hazily watches as he sucks his fingers clean with a wicked grin, winking at you before nibbling playfully at your earlobe, “Taste so sweet, Shutterbug.”

Giggling, you pull your detective’s face down to yours for a tender but desperate kiss, your cunt already feeling empty and needy. Tim returns your affections ten-fold, hands frantically pushing down his pants and boxers, releasing his hard and thrumming cock with a slap against the smooth dip of your lower back. You whine pitifully, shimmying in Tim’s tight hold and pushing back to try and angle his dick down to where you need him; he chuckles darkly in your ear and grumbles, “Brace yourself, baby.” You place both hands firmly on the ledge of the sink counter and exhale shakily when you feel Tim wick the head of his cock through your slick, gripping hard as he firmly pushes in.

Tim’s eyes never leave your lust blown ones in the mirror. He sets a purposeful and delicious rhythm - pulling out nearly all the way so that you pout, letting you yearn for the loss of his stretch for a moment too long before slamming back in with a heavy drive of his hips and bottoming out each time with an aggressive snarl. He does this over and over and over, his punishing pace never wavering; your eyes start to roll and your bottom lip starts to smart from how hard you’re biting down to keep from screaming.

“Maybe we should let them hear, baby.”

“Let everyone in this bar know who you belong to.”

“They kept you all to themselves tonight – need to remind them that you’re mine.”

Tim punctuates each of his possessive words with a particularly harsh thrust, jolting you hard against the counter.

“Tim!” Your arms fly up to wrap behind his neck, and the reflected vision of you being bounced on Detective Tim Rockford’s hard cock with your supple tits tumbling whorishly out of your party dress, sends the both of you rocketing towards a dual high.

“You’re fucking perfect, Shutterbug.”

“No wonder they all want a piece of you.”

“But they can’t have you.”

“You’re mine, baby.”

“Mine.”

“Yours, yours, yours,” your breathy declaration sung to the chorus of your orgasm, Tim comes shortly after to the tight squeeze of your warm walls claiming him as yours.

“I love you, Detective.”

“I love you more, Shutterbug.”

The two of you stay at the party for just one more round of drinks; Tim’s arm never leaves your waist, tucking your body securely against his. As far as he’s concerned, his colleagues have monopolized enough of your time this evening, you’re all his now; you can’t help but enjoy Tim’s harmless display of possessiveness when his fellow officers swarm and try to engage you as they did before.

Perhaps in retaliation, the Tiny Tim jokes start coming in rapid succession:

“Tim, are you feeling tired? Is it hard to stand? Do we to find you a wittle crutch?”

“Isn’t it past Tiny Tim’s bedtime? He’s just a little guy.”

“Leaving already? Bah humbug!”

“Should we be calling Bob Cratchit? Does Tiny Tim need a lift?”

“No, don’t go, Rockford! Who’s going have god bless us, every one??!”

You can’t help but laugh at that last one as you and Tim sweep out of the bar; Tim raising his hand and flipping the bird to his friends without ever looking back.

The December air outside feels crisp and pleasant against your skin, still warm from tonight’s drinks and the crowded party. By some coincidence, the bar is in the same neighbourhood as the restaurant where Tim took you on your third first date, and much like that night, you and Tim opt to take the twenty-or-so minute walk home. Though the fresh air sobers you, you remain cheerful and giddy from tonight’s festivities and a general sense of seasonal merriment – his hand never leaving yours, an amused Tim lets you happily swing your arms as you walk, occasionally giving you a twirl on the sidewalk and smiling widely as you duck under his beefy arm and spin so that the skirt of your dress fans out with a dancer like grace. Chirping cheerfully, you fill Tim in on all the courageous and funny stories his colleagues shared with you tonight and delight in the way his face reddens in embarrassment.

“I’m so lucky, Tim! I get to call the biggest, baddest, smartest detective on the squad as my own. And I also know him to be so sweet, and kind, and funny. I’m truly the luckiest girl in the world,” your words and eyes are genuine, all adoring.

Tim can’t help but grin dopily back. He takes off his tan trench coat to drape over your shoulders and accepts your quick, sweet peck of gratitude before countering, “I’m the lucky one, Shutterbug. It was clear to every single person in the bar tonight that you’re a star, everyone’s dream – and you choose me. I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

Your chest swells with affection for your tender-hearted boyfriend – Tim never fails to make you feel cherished, supported and loved, and of course, always so very safe and protected. You’re sure that if the people of the city knew even half of what you know about how deeply Tim cares and takes seriously his charge of their protection, they would all be as in love with him as you are. It’s no wonder that you had felt that initial spark with him when he was just diligently doing his duty all those many moons ago at the aquarium – he had been so earnest and dedicated to the job, you’re convinced you fell in love with him on the spot, “We’re both so lucky that you’re who I ended up interviewing with at the aquarium during the Grandma Ursula case.”

“It wasn’t all luck, Shutterbug,” Tim flashes a shit eating grin.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, that day at the aquarium, MacMillan and I were both interviewing potential witnesses. And when we got down to the final few interviews, I bribed him to let me question you.”

You’re absolutely shocked and delighted by this revelation, “Detective Rockford!! You’re diabolical! What did the favour of my company cost you?”

“I had to transcribe all of MacMillan’s interview notes from that day… and for the following month. Plus, he made me drive all the way to a deli across town to pick up his favourite sandwich.”

“Omigod,” you giggle, “And?”

“Hmmm?”

“Was it worth it?”

“The sandwich? I did get myself one - it was pretty delicious.”

You swat playfully at Tim’s chest, “No, silly. Not the sandwich – what you transcribed all those notes for.”

“Absolutely. Changed my life for the better. You're priceless, baby.”

“Oh Tim,” you sigh at your detective’s romantic words. The truth is you’re absolutely gobsmacked that Tim went through all that effort for you when he didn’t even know you; knowing what you do now about Tim’s instinct and how often the success of his cases rest on its sharp edge, it makes your heart sing that he had had a feeling, saw something in you worth pursuing. You tell him as much.

“I’ve been grateful for you since the moment I saw you, Shutterbug,” says Tim sincerely, “When you were in that waiting area, patiently letting the families and field trips go ahead of you, I knew I was in the presence of genuine grace and kindness. I- I don’t run across that very often in my line of work – you’re so special, baby. I was having such a shit day and you were an unexpected beacon of light. I think, selfishly, I couldn’t let you go without basking a little longer in your warmth.”

Tears spring to your eyes so quickly that you have to turn away from Tim to hide how emotional his confession has made you. You had felt such a strong connection to him that day as well – Tim had been so sweet and patient, encouraging in his words for your photography when he had no reason to be; your gratitude had only been compounded when you bore witness to the enthusiasm and commitment Tim held for his policework. And since the day of the Grandma Ursula case verdict, your feelings of admiration and awe for this strong, honourable man have only grown.

You tug Tim along the twinkle lights illuminated path, still unable to look at him while admitting these sentiments, “When we didn’t talk at all during those seven months of the Grandma Ursula case, I thought maybe I had made you up – it didn’t seem possible to have properly gauged the measure of a man so smart, kind, and honourable from just the few times we interacted. But Tim, you exceed even my wildest fantasies with how steadfast, loving, respectful, caring you are to me everyday. You’re the man of my dreams.”

If you were hoping to avoid getting overwhelmed by your feelings, thinking about how much you love your detective and all the reasons you can’t live without him has certainly not been the way to do it. Swimming in your own happiness, you brush away your tears with the sleeve of Tim’s jacket and quicken your pace, your footsteps timed to the thundering beat of your very full heart.

You walk so quickly that your hand slips from Tim’s and in your surprise at the loss of his warm, comforting grip, you turn around – the sight that greets you leaves you stunned. Both hands flying up to cover your mouth, now dropped opened in a placid ‘o’ shape, you’re unable to contain the loud gasp that escapes.

Tim is still where he was when you inadvertently let go of his hand, but now down on one knee – in his upturned palm he holds an open ring box, his rich brown eyes swirling with a storm of deep emotion, love.

You walk the few steps back to Tim in silence, teary eyes crinkling from a smile that you can’t quite hide behind your hands. Your barely concealed joy makes Tim’s heart soar and calms his nerves somewhat.

When you finally stand before him, Timothy Rockford, first line attack dog of the LAPD Detective Squad, scourge of the city’s hardened criminals, and certified grump who hates all holidays and holiday parties, melts in front of the woman he loves. He looks up into the eyes of his personal goddess, the one who makes it safe for him to reveal his soft underbelly, nourishes him and has his back in every way that matters on this mortal plane he had long resigned to walking alone before meeting her, and asks the most important question he’s ever had to pose, inside or outside of an interrogation room.

“Shutterbug, when we met, I couldn’t have fathomed how much better my life was going to get with you in it. You’re the embodiment of all the goodness that for a very long time I was convinced existed in too short supply in this world. But not with you, baby – you’re generous and open, and the sweetness and compassion you extend to me and everyone around you feels never-ending. You give me so much, but the most important is something I didn’t even know I was missing: a home. You’re my home, Shutterbug. A home full of love and softness. I- I never knew that could be in the cards for me, or that anyone like you existed, never mind that you would choose me. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you, but if you allow me, I want to spend the rest of our lives coming home and loving you.”

You’re nodding now, happy tears overflowing.

Tears now rolling down his own face, Tim chokes out, “Will you marry me?”

“Yes, yes, Tim! I’ll marry you!!” You cry, launching yourself into Detective Rockford’s arms, practically knocking him and the ring box to the ground.

Wrapping his arms tight around his little slice of heaven, Tim helps you both stand; pulling back only so he can slip the diamond ring that he had so long ago bought and hid in the back of his sock drawer, waiting for the right time (a time that wouldn’t be too soon), on your ring finger. You admire the beauty of this bright flawless thing, an actual physical embodiment of Tim’s love – still in shock that something, someone, could be so exquisite and yours. Thankful and humbled before its, his, grace, you place your hands on both sides of your fiancé’s handsome face as he brings his careful paws up to yours and you meet for a long, perfect kiss.

Still feeling like you’re in a dream, you start heading home - alternating between walking while holding out your left hand and admiring it in a daze, and looking back at Tim’s blinding smile, stopping to kiss him again when you see the look of devotion and awe that he radiates back at you. This continues for several blocks until, giddy and blissful, you suddenly notice the slow licking flames of want that have been keeping you warm on this chilly December walk – immediately, you start pulling Tim towards your shared destination with renewed urgency.

“What’s the hurry, Shutterbug?” laughs Tim.

“Want to get home, Detective,” you giggle, “so I can ride my new fiancé until we both come so loud the neighbours complain."

At this, Tim quickens his pace, long legs taking strong purposeful strides - one for every two of yours; his eagerness and boyish grin making you laugh, “Then tomorrow, after we celebrate some more on every surface of the apartment, I want you to take me to that deli across town and I’m going to buy MacMillan a ‘thank you’ sandwich myself.”

You squeal in laughter as Detective Tim Rockford breaks into a full out jog, practically carrying you, his Shutterbug, love of his life, raison d’etre – fiancé, wife-to-be, the future Mrs. Rockford (Oh, he likes the sound of that!), all the way home.

A/N 2: We time hop a lot in this series, a lot of the stories not necessarily happening in the order they're written/posted and I don't think it matters much - but for those that are wondering, a little note on timing. This story can be considered the most recent in the timeline of Timmy and Shutterbug's relationship; I consider it to take place a good while after Sniffles (when they move in together). Sniffles I imagine to take place 3-4 months after Husband Material, and before the Sleepy Trilogy. I'm not terribly committed to when the others slot in, but I always think of Dance for Me as also taking place when they're already living together.

Thank you again for reading and happy holidays - god (nondenominational) bless you, every one 🥹🥹😘

#tim rockford #tim rockford fic #tim rockford fanfiction #tim rockford x reader #tim rockford x you #tim rockford x f!reader #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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bartxnhood · 2 years ago

Text

middle of the night | c.b

colby brock x fem!reader

word count: 2.8k

summary: sleep is almost nonexistent to you. a darkness takes over your mind, but colby is the light you need.

warnings: best friends to lovers, nightmare & gore scene, reader and colby being so oblivious to their feelings (JUST KISS ALREADY GOD.)

a/n: hi guys !! i’m not too sure what this is but i’ve been meaning to write for colby for a while so this is definitely something. i was slightly inspired by middle of the night by elley duhé (the song and the fic are not related in any way. the song just heavily reminds me of colby?) also, this one is slightly darker than my previous ones so read with caution. 🤍 enjoy !! feedback is appreciated.

requested open

not proofread

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you didn’t know when the nightmares started, but when they started they never stopped. they kept you up for hours sometimes, other nights you wouldn’t sleep at all.

it was agonizing, you could barely function during the day. you were beyond fatigued and drained. it has been like this for a couple of years now, and maybe you brought it upon yourself as you had messed with some pretty dark stuff when you were younger without the proper knowledge. you always joked to your friends that you were cursed, but as you grew older you started to believe it yourself.

when your close friends decided to take on the mystery of the paranormal you pretty much refused to have anything to do with it. as you were still dealing with the consequences of your younger self. despite your friends begs and pleads you still kept your walls up high. even the thought of going out with them to these locations made you sick.

but, one day kat came to you fully prepared for rejection but she wanted to rest her case.

“y/n, please. i don’t want to be alone” she begged, following you in the hallway of your apartment as you entered your room saying, “you won’t be alone, sam will protect you, and if he doesn’t colby is there for back up” katrina groaned, standing in your doorway. “you know what i mean. i don’t want to be the only girl.” you finally turned around and your eyes met with the girl. she was pleading silently. you ran your hands through your hair letting out a frustrated sigh,” fine. but if i get touched or I'm uncomfortable at all i’m leaving.” katrina grinned, and threw herself into your arms. “thank you so much, y/n.”

so, there you stood filming a video with your three best friends standing inside the conjuring house. you were doomed.

throughout the night, you felt like you were being watched. heavily. but still, you refrained from telling the guys knowing how excited they were to finally experience this. you couldn’t do that, not to colby at least.

ever since it was confirmed that they were going to the infamous house, he was so excited. you loved seeing that light in his eyes glow anytime you’d mention something related to the work he does. he loves what he does.

but, he loves you even more. he wanted nothing more than to make sure you were safe, especially in a place as dark as this home.

when he noticed your unusual behavior, he pulled you over to the side just to make sure you were okay. “are you sure you’re okay?” his hand lingered on your shoulder a bit too long, but you didn’t mind it. “i’m fine, it’s just a lot” you smiled, trying to assure his worries. “okay, well, if it’s gets to be too much let me know. i’m not going to force you to do this.” he was so kind to you. you nodded, “i know, now let’s go back before they start to miss us”

unfortunately, that night was when colby found out about your night terrors.

it was the early hours of the morning when you arrived back at the hotel, you bid goodnight to your friends and went to your room. both sam and cat, colby had rooms next to you so you were all close by.

you opened your eyes, finding yourself in a dark room. no sound, no light, no sense of anything in this room. just a void. you tried searching for anything just to get out. until out of the corner of your eye you see a tall creature lurking, its jaws unhinged comically, its teeth like a leech, beckoning you closer to its open maw, drool lolled out of its mouth, pooling at the floor.

“no..” you breathed, tears brimming your eyes as your breath thickened. “no!” you screamed. “y/n!!” you heard panicked screams calling out your name and your head whipped around seeing your friends. “no!! run!!” you yelled back, but it was far too late.

your friends scream in terror but make no effort to move as the beast grabs them, tearing into them, blood and entrails hit the floor, splattering onto your face. you were breathless, screaming colby’s name.

you jolted up, gasping for breath as your chest began to loosen. you were covered in sweat, tears staining your cheeks. the loud pounding at your door brought you out of your daze. “y/n?! it’s me, i heard screaming are you alright?” it was colby, you threw off the blankets and walked to your door, unlocked it, and then opened it to reveal a very worried colby.

when he first saw you, his gaze softened realizing that you were okay but then he saw you had been crying, your breathing was shallow and sweat pooled on your forehead. “what is it? what happened?” “nightmare” you croaked, he saw how shaken you were so he entered the room, closing the door behind him.

“shh. you’re okay.” his arms wrapped around you, but his touch only made you cry harder. the fresh image of him being ripped apart was still fresh in your mind. “it’s okay, i’m right here” colby gently rubbed your back, feeling your heaves.

his heart was aching, seeing you in so much pain. colby didn’t expect you to tell him what happened in your nightmare, all he was focusing on was being there for you. “will you stay with me, tonight?“ your voice hoarse from the screaming, you pulled away from his chest looking up at him. “just until i fall asleep.” colby nodded, “of course. i’ll be right by your side”

colby stayed up all night, making sure that if you needed him he was there. plus, it gave him the excuse to admire you. every crease in your skin, the way your eyebrows furrowed as you dream. he wanted nothing more than to hold you tightly, and never let anything harm you again. even the nightmares, he would find a way to stop those. even if it killed him. he never felt like this around anyone, only you. it’s always been you.

that was the best sleep you’d had in years, it has been so long since you had felt this refreshed. you were in the best mood, and everyone noticed but you only said you had a good sleep.

when arriving home, your friends dropped you off at your apartment but colby insisted on walking you in. and who are you to deny him?

“thank you again for last night.” you set your bags on your sofa, and he shook his head. “anything you need, i’m your man” you smiled, “still, it was just a lot. so thank you” “of course, y/n” colby hugged you, squeezed you tightly then pulled away. “call me, text me, or just somehow get in touch with me if it happens again. i’ll be here.” “i’m serious” he added

colby was serious, he cared for you deeply probably more than he should but he didn’t care. “i will, i promise” you grinned. there it was. that grin. it always made him feel fuzzy inside. “good” he nodded.

your thumb hovered over colby’s contact, debating with yourself if you should call him or just try to sleep again. after fighting with yourself, you finally pressed call and held the phone to your ear.

“y/n?” he answered, his voice sounding groggy. you must’ve woken him up. “did i wake you up?” “yeah, but it’s okay. what’s up?” you felt bad, you didn’t mean to wake him up. “i’m fine, just forget about it.”

he stopped you, “was it about her nightmare?” you sighed, “yeah.” “do you need me to come over?” he offered. “no, i’m okay really. just scared me.” “i can come over, i don’t mind at all.” “colby..” you sighed, rubbing your eyes. “i’ll be there in fifteen.”

then, it became a routine. colby spent most of his time at your apartment, not that he didn’t mind, he enjoyed it. it was an excuse for him to see you twenty-four seven. but with his presence, somehow the terrors stopped. when colby was around you felt relaxed, you could rest. you’d lay on the sofa while he sat and watched your tv, or you were in bed and he was right next to you.

at night, when you couldn’t sleep colby, was still by your side. if he was working on editing videos you’d sit up with him and have a movie on in the background. or, if the both of you had nothing to do, you would just talk. talk until the early hours of the morning about anything. from childhood memories to what you two wanted to do in your future.

but one night, colby finally asked why you never wanted to do the investigations with him.

“i just know how bad they can get” you shrugged. he nodded, “i agree, but we always take our precautions. you know i wouldn’t let anything happen to you, y/n” there they were again. those damn butterflies. you nodded, “i know, colbs” you took a deep breath, sitting up. you figured it was better now than never to tell him.

“when i was younger, i went out with some friends to this haunted place. it was dark. like, very dark. and after that…the nightmares started.” you picked at your nails. “it’s the same one, every time. you, sam, and kat. this…thing is there. it’s tall, black and it’s just inhuman. it tries to attack me. but you guys are yelling, telling me to run, and then it..” you pause, you felt heat rush to your cheeks and your eyes started to tear up. “it rips you to pieces..right in front of me..” your voice was breaking as you explained.

he pulled you into his arms as you teared up. “it’s okay. i’m right here, i’m not going anywhere.” he rubbed your back “i promise. you’re safe, i’m safe. i’ll be here, any time, any day, i will come to you”

colby became the one person you relied on, he became your rock.

then he disappeared. vanished. he should’ve said no to her, you needed him. he was supposed to be there, he saw your messages but he was too drunk to help you.

colby regretted that night, he saw your desperation but he couldn’t be there. she wouldn’t let him. he didn’t even know why he continued to see the girl, maybe he thought it was the only way he could ever get over you. but when you stopped texting he thought you were okay now. maybe you didn’t need him after all.

but he was wrong.

your night terrors we’re getting worse, some nights you didn’t sleep at all. you tried all kinds of medication to see if it would relieve your pain. but it didn’t. one night, the dream was bad. worse than it had ever been.

you tried messaging colby, calling him a few times but he wasn’t answering. maybe he was sleeping. whatever it was you’d be okay, you knew you needed to stop being dependent on him. you were a big girl, you had to learn how to deal with your issues.

“hey, kat..” you breathed, picking at your lips. “i know it’s kinda late, but have you heard from colby?” you decided to call up katrina in hopes she could ease your anxiety. “yeah, he said he was going out tonight. a date or something.” “oh..” you hummed, “is everything okay? you sound awful.” she stated. “yeah, i’m good. just needed to tell him something. thanks, kat. i’ll see you soon” you hung up the phone, tossing it on the bed.

why did your heart hurt so much? why did you want to cry your eyes out so badly? you never realized your feeling for colby.

oh god. you loved him. you were in love with colby brock.

no, you couldn’t possibly be in love with him. that’s stupid, you guys were just friends..right? friends took care of each other…friends shared a bed occasionally..right?

you didn’t know how to deal with your feelings, you couldn’t tell him now as he was actively seeing someone or dating. you slowly began to disappear from the picture. maybe if you weren’t around him so much those feelings would slowly fade.

you were wrong.

colby on the other hand was missing you. the date didn’t work out. he wasn’t sure why he even tried dating when he was head over heels for you. maybe he did it not knowing how you felt about him, but now he’s never going to know. you had disappeared, ignoring everyone’s texts and calls. it was very concerning, especially for colby knowing how your night terrors affect your daily life.

everyone started to notice your absence, and it was only a matter of time before sam and katrina persuaded him to finally check in on you.

“you’re the closest to her, colby. it would only make sense if you go” sam argued looking at the brunette boy standing above him. “listen to him, colby” katrina agreed. “guys-“ the girl cut him off. “no, colby. it’s bad. she called me one night when you were out, she sounded like she had been crying. her voice was hoarse. whatever is happening, it’s bad”

that was the push he needed. colby had to see you.

you haven’t slept in a very long time the nightmares have been worse than ever and it has been going on for an unhealthily long time. you look absolutely run down and it’s getting hard to function. some nights you just refused to sleep, it was better to stay awake than to meet the monster occupying your brain. you were sure you had memorized every crack and crevice in your ceiling. you lay lifeless on the sofa, the silence was deafening. you were miserable.

you weren’t sure how long someone was pounding at your door, but you had finally come to your sense and had to answer it. you rose slowly from your position already feeling a migraine forming.

you weren’t expecting to see colby, he was the last person who you thought would show up. “colby..” you uttered.

colby didn’t know what to expect when you opened the door. but, when he saw you he felt sick. your hair was tied up but messy, and your eyes were black and whites bloodshot.

“oh my god y/n…” he croaked, entering your apartment. you sighed, you couldn’t face him. you didn’t want him to see you like this. at your worst. “how much sleep have you been getting?” you shrug, hugging yourself. “an hour” he blinks “a night?” “…this week” the color washed from his face, and he felt dizzy.

he wanted to cry, hold you tightly and apologize for all the pain you’re going through. “why y/n? why are you doing this?” he reached for your shoulder. you reply, “the nightmares are too much. i can’t keep going thru that” he shakes his head, studying you. “why didn’t you tell me?” “i tried, but kat told me you were out on a date and i didn’t want to both you because this is my problem. i need to learn how to go deal with it on my own”

“ y/n l/n, i told you to come to me whenever you were struggling. i care about you.” you finally faced him, you didn’t know what else to say. colby continued, “out of everyone in my life i’ll always care about you most” you feel yourself beginning to tear up, the lady of sleep was taking a toll on your body.

colby gently pulls you into a hug. “i’m so tired. i just want to sleep without being scared” you cry into his chest. he soothes your cries. “you need to sleep, y/n.” you shake your head against his chest, “i cant.” “ill be with you, kay? like old times” he offered, you were reluctant but he lead you to your bedroom and got your bed ready. which hadn’t been slept in for a long while.

your head rested against colby’s chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. he whispers “i’m sorry. i should’ve been here” “not your fault” you hummed, closing your heavy eyes. he rubbed you back gently, you didn’t know if you were just extremely tired or if your feelings for colby were resurfacing again. “i love you, colby” you paused, “i’m in love with you colby brock.”

colby wasn’t able to get a word in, because when he tried to he noticed how your breathing evened out and you were already fast asleep. his heart was now racing, you loved him? you were in love with him? he smiled to himself, kissing the top of your head. “i love you too, y/n.”

#colby brock x y/n #colby x reader #colby brock imagine #colby brock x you #colby brock #colby brock fic #colby brock fluff #colby brock angst #colby brock x reader #colby brock fanfic

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rocketkit · 1 year ago

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third scene from a nonexistent fic

#kudos to whoever guesses the song they’re listening to #thinking of fall #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington fanart #eddie munson fanart #steddie fanart #stranger things fanart #stranger things #my art #st #scene from a nonexistent fic

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swindle-comic · 1 year ago

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Hi hello, I'm Lolly!! :D It's very nice to see you again. I say that because my posts on this blog have gone from semi-frequent to rare to nonexistent in the last year or so. That's because I haven't really touched Swindle in quite a while. Though the last page of chapter 4 was only posted a few days ago, I finished writing the script for it in late 2021 and have since stepped back to focus on other things that provide mental enrichment.

I love this comic very much. I am insanely proud of it. Of myself and of Artsy. We've created something that is so fun and ridiculous. I think it is one of the most well crafted projects I've ever gotten to participate in. On all levels except physical I am placing it on my fridge for everybody to look at.

In all honestly, I haven't really been paying that much attention to this comic since the chapter 4 pages started rolling out. So I haven't really noticed that there is still a large consistent amount of readers interacting with it. I was surprised by the likes, the comments, the follower count, the art, the fics, the investment in general. It's all so cool, it made me really happy!!!

Thank you for all the support and patience and engagement!!!

Anyway, this comic being my pride and joy is the exact reason that it will be taking a rest for a while. I'm a perfectionist when it comes to building scenes and writing engaging and flowing dialogue and consistent characterization and BLAH. I want those ducks jumping off the pages. That is my goal. As a result, this comic takes an explosive amount of energy and commitment to write. Energy and commitment that I simply do not have to spare during this time. And I have no idea when I will.

So. It is time for Swindle to sleep for a while. It is time for Tybernation.

But wow!!! 4 chapters and 100 pages!!! That is super impressive I think!!!! So even if it takes a while for the story to resume, there's always plenty to revisit.

Anyway, that's all. Thank you for reading, I really appreciate it. Mwah mwah mwah <333

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golbrocklovely · 8 months ago

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complicated // sam golbach

A/N: had an idea like this for quite sometime, and i was finally able to finish this fic. just so everyone's aware, there WILL be a part two. but it might not be in the way you think lol hope you enjoy this fic and lmk what you think :)

prompt: you and sam needed a stress relief, and if you couldn't get it from who you really wanted it from, second best was better than nothing at all. || sam golbach x fem!reader

trigger warning: SMUT, drunk sex, cursing, snc are both single in this fic, angst, finding comfort in each other, friends to lovers, kitchen sex, almost getting caught, mentions of babygirl, good girl, sam is using you and you are using sam

word count: 4020

~~~~~~~~~~~

To say my relationship with Sam and Colby was complicated was a bit of an understatement. But I had no one to blame, really, except for myself.

I had known them for years, being one of the first friends they made once they moved out to LA. We were always friendly with each other, and kept in contact over the years. Then one day, they told me about how they needed an assistant, someone that could help out behind the scenes as well as being in videos occasionally. Things fell into place perfectly, and I signed on to be their assistant. I moved out to Vegas with them, living in an apartment not too far away from their place.

God only knew why I even had my own place since I crashed at their house more often than not.

Our relationship never seemed all that complicated.... until one day. Something clicked in my head, and suddenly I became extremely aware of how attractive Colby was. His eyes, his smile, his voice. Sam, of course, was attractive too. But he always had Kat, so it was never appropriate for me to like him. But Colby... he was basically an eternal bachelor. So, it made total sense for me to like him.

And our friendship was a bit strange to begin with. We were both naturally flirty people, constantly hitting on one another whether sober or drunk; but especially when we were drunk. There were some close encounters with us, especially once we started opening up to one another. I could count on two hands how many times we had kissed, and on one how many times we had almost gone farther than that. But we never finished what we started.

The problem with Colby is I could never tell where we stood entirely. Sometimes, it seemed like I was all he wanted to pay attention to. Other times, he was with someone else, and wouldn't even glance my way. It was strange. He was always close, but somehow an arm's length away.

And some nights, I couldn't stand him. The back and forth, the cat and mouse game... It was exhausting, to say the least. Sometimes I just wanted to know how he felt. Exactly. With no add ons or extra shit. But with Colby, it was never that simple.

This was normal for us. But things changed once Sam became single, and both of the boys were out on the prowl. It was like their auras changed, and suddenly I was seeing them through different eyes.

I had no one to blame except myself. But at the same time, I didn't feel guilty.

If he can have fun, so can I.

~~~~

“But did you see him? He was basically humping the air!” Colby laughed, kicking his shoes off.

I followed him and Sam into the kitchen area, our usual hang out spot. “Oh my God, yes! It was almost like your old Vine.”

He groaned, “Please don't bring that-”

“Baby grinnnnndd oooon meeeeeee!” I sang dramatically, completely offkey.

He deadpanned, “I hate you so much.”

I faux gasped, clutching my nonexistent pearls. “Wha? How could you say that? I'm one of your best friends!”

“And you're about to be unemployed if you keep it up.” Colby crossed his arms defiantly.

I narrowed my eyes. “You wouldn't.”

He smirked, “Try me.”

I turned away from him, yelling to my other best friend, “Sam! Tell Colby he can't just fire me because I'm making fun of him.”

Sam looked up from his phone, “Uh? I wasn't paying attention to what either of you were saying.”

“What are you doing?” I asked, dropping the topic.

He stared at me innocently, “...Trying to order Taco Bell.”

“Oh my God, Taco Bell.” Colby moaned, closing his eyes, “Oh, fuck.”

I grimaced, “Damn Colby, try not to come in your pants. It's just Taco Bell.”

“I'm sorry, I just get hard for Taco Bell.” Colby admitted casually.

Sam chimed in, “Dude, I get hard for Taco Bell too.”

I scrunched my face, “You guys are weird.”

Colby smiled playfully, walking away, “I'm gonna go change, order my regular?”

“Gotchu, brother.” Sam nodded.

I sighed, leaning against the island. I watched Sam scroll through his phone, clicking away at options for food.

“What do you want?” He asked.

I shrugged, “I don't know. Can I see your phone?”

“Come over here. I don't want to throw my phone.” He commented.

I huffed jokingly, walking over to him, taking it from his hand. "Well, someone's in a shitty mood."

“I'm not in a shitty mood. I'm tired, I'm drunk, and I'm very hungry. And I wish I ordered Taco Bell in the Uber home.” Sam replied, exacerbated.

“So... a shitty mood?” I repeated.

He grumbled, “Yeah, sure. Whatever.”

“Is something the matter?” I questioned, still looking at the Taco Bell menu.

He paused, then finally spoke. “It's been a year.”

I glanced up, “A year?”

“Since we... broke up.” He finally finished.

My eyes widened, putting his phone down on the counter. "Oh shit, I'm sorry Sam."

He exhaled, swatting at me, “It's okay.”

“No, we shouldn't have.... gone out tonight.” I half-heartedly argued.

“Why? So I could sulk at home over my failed relationship? I don't think that would have been any better.” He quipped.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” I placed my hand on his shoulder.

“I don't know.” He leaned back, rubbing his eyes tirelessly, “It just feels weird, you know? I never thought I would be single again, so all of this just feels... off.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, you're not the only one struggling in the love department.” I remarked.

“What? You and your secret pining for Colby not working out for you?” Sam sassed.

I glared, sucking my teeth, You know, sometimes you can be a real ass.”

“What? Because I can see you like Colby and he's just... blind, to it?” He smirked.

“Why don't you tell him that and not me?” I jeered.

“I'm not getting involved with whatever the two of you got going on. I swore off helping his dating life long ago.” He chuckled, putting his hands up defensively.

I scoffed, “You were literally his wingman tonight as he flirted with the waitress!

“And you wouldn't have noticed that if you weren't watching him like a hawk.” He mentioned.

I rolled my eyes, my hands resting on my hips. “Trust me, I wanted to look away. But it was like watching a train crash.”

Sam laughed, “A train crash that ended in him getting her number.”

I exhaled. “Again, the whole 'you're an ass' comment stands.”

“Why don't you just tell him how you feel?” He rebutted.

“He knows,” I winced, shrugging. “He... has to know. He just pretends it's not real. When there's no one else, that's when he comes to me.”

“And how does that make you feel?” He inquired.

“Like shit. I hate being a second choice.” I muttered.

He hummed, “I know the feeling.”

“Yeah, well at least you got to be first. I don't think that's ever gonna happen with me and him.” I sighed, ignoring my heart dropping at my own words.

Sam, always the optimist, replied, “Maybe that's better in the long run. Maybe you work better as friends.”

“Maybe.... But what about you?” I stared up at him.

“What about me?” He chuckled.

“You really do have a knack for just changing up the conversation so you don't gotta talk about yourself.” I pointed at him, pushing my finger into his chest.

“What do you wanna know?” He asked.

I questioned, looking into his eyes. “How are you feeling? Genuinely.”

“Genuinely... I'm…” He was hesitant, but spoke, “a bit lonely.”

“Have you tried to be with other girls since your break up?” I queried.

Sam nodded, “Yeah. But none of them seemed right. I've realized I don't like being alone.”

“Not many truly do.” I added.

“It just feels odd not having someone there, you know? You wake up for years with the same person over and over again, but once they're gone it's like... something's missing.” He exhaled, his head falling back.

“Well, someone is.” I murmured, leaning against him.

He groaned, rubbing his eyes, “I kinda feel like a teenager again, but in the worst way.”

I turned to him, puzzled. “Really?”

“I can't tell how I feel anymore. Or what I want.” He flipped his hands over, weighing the options, “Am I lonely or just alone? Do I miss her or just the comfort that having her brought?”

I jokingly mimicked him, “Am I finally into someone new or am I just horny?”

“Yeah…” He gave me a strange look, but laughed, “What a weird way to put it, but yeah.”

I pffted, “Oh, I'm sorry. You two just said you get hard for Taco Bell, but I can't say I get horny sometimes?”

“Well you are my employee.” He smiled sarcastically.

“And you're my employer. So it's even worse.” I glared, “I should report you to HR.”

“We don't have HR.” Sam deadpanned.

“HR will have to hear about this... once they exist.” I declared.

He rolled his eyes at me, “Are you really horny that often?”

I inhaled, “Bro, honestly.... it's really bad sometimes.”

“Really? Like how bad?” He pushed.

“The other night I almost called up an ex just to see if he would fuck me.” I admitted, uncomfortable by the memory.

He whistled, “Ooof, that's pretty bad.”

“What about you? How horny do you get?” I asked, almost confused why I was.

He thought for a second, then stated, “Mmm, maybe every couple days.”

I snickered, “Oh that's not too bad. Aren't guys notorious for being constant horn dogs?”

“I guess so, but you already know I'm not like most guys.” He winked.

I shook my head at him, “How unique of you.”

Sam stared at me, his gaze a mix of annoyance and... something else I couldn't place. His voice came out low, almost husky. "Are you horny now?"

Butterflies erupted in my stomach, and I did my best to play them off. "Maybe a little. What about you?"

He raised his eyebrows, noting my statement, "Maybe just a little."

I nodded softly, my eyes taking in his face. He was really handsome. He always was, even if most of my feelings were for Colby. His eyes were blue, but very different compared to Colby's. Icy and intense in nature. They stared into mine, his eyes flickering down my face to my lips. I mirrored him, looking at his.

They looked awfully nice....

I don't know how, but we must have gotten closer and closer to one another. And suddenly, his lips were on mine. His arm wrapped around my lower back, pulling me towards him. My hands rested on his shoulders, catching my balance. His kiss was soft, but fierce. Our tongues met in a matter of seconds, a gasp falling from my lips when his entered my mouth. He pressed his body into mine, our hips meeting and grazing each other sexually.

Holy shit, I was kissing Sam. And not only that, I was liking it.

Sam must have also came to this realization, that he too was kissing me, because he pulled back abruptly. Shock was written all over his face. “Woah…”

I breathed, leaning back against the island. “W-What was that?”

“I don't know. Wow, um…” He sputtered, taking a step back.

I cleared my throat, “Yeah that was... surprising.”

“You can say that.” Sam rubbed the back of his neck.

I exhaled, looking at him. "Guess we are really horny."

He agreed, letting out a light laugh.

We stood there in awkward silence, trying to get our bearings. My heart fluttered in my chest as I realized how turned on I had become just making out with him.

I really was in dire need to be fucked. And Sam... seemed willing enough. At least, for a moment there.

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the loneliness. But something came over the both of us in that moment. We locked eyes, and it became apparent that things were changing. The awkward silence turned erotic, like one of us was waiting to make the next move. I wanted to, but what if I was wrong?

Fuck, I just... needed him.

Sam bit his lip, his eyes tracing my form. Once they landed back on my face, a look came over him. It was intense, his pupils blown wide. He looked eager, determined... hungry.

“Come here.” He mumbled lowly.

That's all I needed to hear.

I rushed up to him, our bodies slamming into one another. Our mouths met hastily, jumping right back into what we had been doing just minutes before. He wrapped his arms around me, his hands resting low on my hips. He spun us until my back hit the counter in the far corner of the kitchen. His hand slid down to my knee, raising it up so it rested around his hip.

He pulled away quickly, putting some space between us. Are you okay with this?”

I tried catching my breath, “W-wha?”

“Are you okay with this? Do you really want this?” Sam questioned, repeating himself.

“Yeah I do. Why would you ask?” I furrowed my brow.

He scoffed, “Come on, Y/N. We just spent ten minutes talking about how you wanted Colby.”

“Yeah, and you spent the better half of that talking about how you miss your ex.” I retorted. “Obviously, we aren't each other’s.... first choices. But that doesn't mean we can't have fun. Let's just enjoy this, and not make this a big deal.” I snaked my arms around him, pulling him back into me.

“Fine with me.”

He lowered his face to my neck, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin. I lulled my head back, allowing him as much access as he wanted. He pressed his hips into mine, sparks shooting up through my core into my entire body. I whimpered unexpectedly, Sam smiling into my neck at the sound.

I tugged lightly on his hair, pulling his head back. Our lips met again, my hand roaming his chest. I found the first button of his shirt, undoing it. I slowly followed suit with the others, my fingers tracing down his torso as I did.

He grabbed my wrists, stopping my motions. “Shouldn't we go back to my room and do this? Do you wanna get caught by Colby?”

“How about we stop bringing him up? I don't want to be thinking about him right now,” I smiled bitterly. “And anyway, you know as well as I do that man is probably knocked out asleep on his bed. So we'll be good til morning.”

“I don’t think I'm gonna make it that long. Maybe three rounds max.” He joked.

“Oh wow, three rounds?” I gazed up and down at his body, “I'll settle for one right now.”

“Same here.” He kissed me quickly, pulling back for a moment, "but just in case he's not totally asleep, let's not get fully naked."

“Lame. But fine, I guess.” I huffed.

“Trust me, I would love to see all of you, but not now. Not here.” He whispered sweetly.

I giggled, his face and lips pressing into my chest as he lowered my top more. His tongue dragged across my skin, and I felt like I was on fire.

Maybe all of that tequila was a good call, after all. Because God... the feeling between my legs was just growing hotter and wetter by the second. All I wanted was Sam.

Was there a part of me that also wanted Colby? Yes. But that part would have to shut it for now. Because he wasn't here. He didn't choose me. Sam did. And I was going to enjoy every second of it.

Our kisses became harsher, more passionate, as our hips grinded together harder. I could feel him against me, his bulge pressing right against my core. I grazed my hand down his torso, finally resting it on his belt. I undid with my one hand, trying my best.

He laughed, pulling back from me. “I'll get it.”

“Do you have a condom?” I breathed.

“Yeah, in my wallet.” He grabbed it out of his pocket, placing it on the counter.

As he undid his belt, I took the condom out, ripping the package with my teeth. I gazed down at his dick; it strained against his underwear, begging to be touched. I reached out, cupping him softly.

“O-oh, fuck, Y/N.” He choked out a moan, his eyes closing at the feeling.

“Does that feel good, Sammy?” I whispered, biting my lip.

He glared, a smirk on his lips, "You know I hate when you call me that."

I bit back a smile, “But I enjoy it so much.”

He hummed, “And I guess I'll enjoy this.”

Sam closed the space between us, his eyes never leaving mine. His hand slid underneath my skirt, palming my sex instantly. I gasped as my wet panties pressed into my aching clit. I shuddered against him, a dark chuckle leaving his lips.

“That's it, babygirl. You're so wet for me, aren't you?” His voice was raspy as he spoke.

“I told you I was horny.” I rubbed my palm harder into his cock as he did the same to my clit.

“Yeah, but only a little bit. If this is only you a little horny, I can't imagine what you're like completely turned on.” He pressed into me more, kissing up my neck.

My breath hitched, “Get inside me and you'll find out.”

“Ain't gotta tell me twice.” Sam lowered his pants and underwear down enough for his cock to spring free. He took the condom from my hand, rolling it down his shaft. I watched in anticipation, direly needing him inside of me.

I yanked my panties down, kicking them off my heels. Sam lined up with my entrance, our eyes meeting again.

His tip teased me, “You ready?”

I nodded, “Please Sam, just-”

He inched his way in, filling me slowly. We both moaned in unison, the sensation hitting us hard. I was so wet and slick, he was able to push all the way in easily. Once our hips met, his hand cupped my face.

I opened my eyes, and his searched mine. I should have felt weird in this moment. Here I was, in my employers' and best friends' kitchen being fucked by one of them while the other was just a room or two away. We could get caught, we could be seen or heard at any moment. I shouldn't have wanted this. Sam was my friend, and not the one I really wanted in my heart.

But my feelings be damned if I wasn't gonna enjoy every second of this. Plus, it's not like I was the only one getting something out of this. I was his second choice, and he was mine.

Sam started bucking his hips, building up to a good rhythm. My hands slid up his back, resting on his shoulder blades. He leaned his forehead against mine, his eyes closed. He was concentrating on his movements, of going deeper into me. His one hand rested on my ass, cupping and gripping it as he thrusted. The other was in my hair, burying deeper into my locks.

“You feel so good, Y/N. So fucking wet.” He uttered, his voice shaking.

“I need more, Sam. Pleaseeee.” I whined.

“I gotchu, babygirl.” He lowered his hips, hitting my sex deeper, “Just like this?”

“Oh my- Fuck! Yes, just like that!” I cursed loudly.

He hushed me, snickering, “Shh, you can't be too loud. You might wake him. Unless that's what you want…”

“What?” I raised an eyebrow, pulling back slightly.

He slowed his movements down, tracing my jaw with his thumb.“You wanna get caught, don't you?”

I hated that the idea did excite me. The thoughts swirled in my head; would Colby be upset? Would Sam? The what ifs made my mind wonder.

Sam grabbed my face suddenly, a little rougher than I expected him to be. “Look at me.”

I blinked, staring into his eyes.

“Don't look away from me, okay? I want all of your attention on me and what I'm doing to you. Got it?” He commanded.

His tone was sexy, my body jolting from the sound. “Okay.”

He pecked my lips, “Good girl.”

I gasped as his hand slid down to my clit, rubbing it in time with his thrusts. My body clenched at the sensation, my hips speeding up.

“You need more?” Sam growled.

I hummed, only able to nod. My nails dug into his back as he sped up his movements. He began fucking me harder against the counter. He held me steady, going deeper as he did.

I shuttered, “Fuuuck Sam. You make me feel so full.”

“Yeah? Feel fucking amazing, Y/N.” Sam grunted, “God, if you squeeze around me one more time, I'm gonna-

I smirked against his neck, squeezing his cock inside of me. He halted his hips, raising his head to look at me.

He pushed his dick all the way in, filling me completely. His fingers started rubbing my clit faster and faster. My mouth fell open, my body shaking with pleasure..

Sam glared into my eyes, watching me as I almost came undone. I gripped him hard, panting. I could feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge, and all he was doing was using his fingers.

“You right there for me?” He hissed.

I whimpered, pleading, “Please let me come.”

“Stay right there for me. Don't come yet.” He demanded.

He picked up his speed again, fucking me faster than he had before. His cock pounded into me repeatedly, adding more to the pleasure of his fingers on my clit. I could feel my wetness leak down my thighs. I was so close, unable to hold on for much longer.

“Sam, pleaseeee..... I'm so fucking close.” I mewled.

He groaned, closing his eyes tightly. “I'm right there, babygirl. You gonna come for me?”

“Fuck, yes, yes! Please Sam!” I cried, begging.

He slammed his hand down on my mouth, letting out a small laugh. “Don't fucking scream.”

My response was muffled, but he could tell what I said.

He lowered his mouth to my ear, whispering aggressively, “Squeeze around me. Do it, Y/N. Come for me.”

I bucked my hips with abandonment, my head falling back as my cries were silenced by his hand. Sam grunted lowly as he came, his fingers pressing into my clit while he was deep inside of me. My body spasmed, my orgasm hitting me in waves.

Sam fell against me, his hands sliding and wrapping around me in a soft embrace. We stood there for a moment, catching our breaths.

The silence was cut suddenly.... by the sound of Colby's door shutting.

We pulled away from one another, glancing at each other with wide eyes. We hastily pulled our clothes back on, fixing ourselves as best we could before Colby appeared.

I turned my back towards the boys, a noticeable blush on my face. I ran my fingers through my hair, adjusting it the best I could.

“Hey did you guys order Taco Bell yet?” Colby called, his voice coming from the other side of the kitchen island.

“Um, uh. N-no. Not yet.” Sam stammered out, clearing his throat.

Colby sighed dramatically. “Can you hurry up and do it? I'm fucking starving.”

I turned around, finally feeling relaxed enough to join in. “Yeah Sam, hurry up. I'm hungry.”

“I thought you said you were full.” He stared at me with a playful glint in his eye.

“Well,” I jested, cursing him out in my head, “I guess I have a bigger appetite than I thought.”

I gave Colby a quick once over, realizing he was shirtless and in sweatpants, like usual.

Definitely a bigger appetite…

|| part two >>

#sam golbach #sam golbach fanfiction #sam golbach fanfic #sam golbach x reader #sam and colby smut #sam golbach fic #sam golbach angst #sam golbach one shot #sam golbach oneshot #colby brock #sam and colby

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mrsparrasblog · 9 months ago

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hi srry if you don't do requests but I have to ask cuz I love everything about your writing.

Can u write a fic where the mc is strictly monogamous but 141 are SO madly in love so they fight on who gets to be with her and it's causing actual problems between them?

Ignored this if u don't want to. Anyway stay slaying✨

Hey ☀️🩷 Ofc I take requests this is my first one tho, I hope you like It, and it's like you imagined because I always have like a little movie in my head when I write a scene and with requests. I don't know if my thoughts match with yours- performance anxiety lol. Still thank you for supporting me 🩷☀️

Fighting for you

TF 141 x Reader

You always had that one plan in your life: meet a nice guy, date for 2 years, marry him with the most extravagant wedding dress someone could imagine, and after that, you get three fat babies whom you will love and dote on.

The only problem was, as a nurse on a military base, you didn't meet guys capable of this lifestyle. You hated to see all these men trying to get in your pants while they were married.

"Why are you in the med again, Johnny?" You scolded him. Of course, you found the Scotsman funny and liked his daily visits, but still, having him here all the time felt like a lost puppy when you had work to do.

"Look, Bonnie, have a mean scratch, need stitches from ya."

"Is that so, Mr. MacTavish?"

"Yes, Bonnie, look." He showed you a scar on his biceps, and you sighed. You knew he was only coming for something else; no soldier went to the medical just because of a scratch. He started to flex his biceps.

"Johnny, that's barely anything."

"But ya always fix me good, lassie." He looked at you with puppy eyes, and you sighed, disinfecting his nonexistent wound. "Such a good caretaker, lass. Need to put a ring on ya before someone else does." You blushed at the thought of marrying someone like Johnny. He was handsome, funny, and super strong, but he was a flirt, probably flirting with every other nurse. Besides, you had a date today.

"Johnny, stop flirting. I have a date today."

"Just a date, lass. It's not like you'll marry him."

You stared at him with a dead glare. "For some people, dates are important, Johnny!"

"Who is it?"

"None of your business, and now leave," you scolded him, annoyed by his noisy behavior.

-----------

"Who of you bastards broke the agreement?" Johnny started to scream at his teammates.

"What do you mean, Soap?" Kyle asked, confused.

"We agreed that no one can have her since she doesn’t want to share, so who of you tossers broke the agreement and goes on a date with her?"

"How do you even know that mate, if you didn’t break the agreement too?"

"I just needed her to take care of my injuries, Kyle."

"Bullshit, you barely got a scratch. Admit that you wanted to break off the agreement too. Admit it." Gaz barked, walking towards Soap to pick him up by his shirt.

"Enough of you, Muppets!"

"You broke the agreement, Captain, didn't ya? Telling us all about the agreement and then taking out my future wife."

"I didn't, and even if, she'd be more happy to become Mrs. Price than Mrs. MacTavish."

They were so close to fighting; everyone accused the other of taking you on that date. They remembered the first day they saw you; all of them were smitten. You were just too precious, full of love and excitement. Perfect hair, perfect body, everything about you was perfect for them. You could walk with your greasy messy bun, and they’d kneel for you, promising you’re the most beautiful woman on earth. After a while, they noticed how every one of them was smitten, how Johnny spent every minute in the infirmary, Ghost becoming your shadow, protecting you from every danger of the world without you even knowing, the Captain always treated you better than every other staff member, you had more off days, better shifts, and even better pay, and Kyle bringing you always your favorite coffee and a bunch of pastries when you overworked yourself again.

Johnny was the first one to ask the rest if they’d be open to a poly relationship. He was the most open about his sexuality, and having Simon and you was the perfect thing for him. Whether the reasons why they agreed to try to court you in this relationship, every one of them thought you only deserved the best, and that included being worshiped by four muscular men.

Unfortunately, your best friend, who noticed their goal while you still stayed in your naive bubble, popped their bubble, telling them to sod off. You weren’t made for this kind of relationship; you were jealous and liked the idea of monogamy way too much. You only wanted to have one husband. That's how the agreement started none of them will pursue you, and they will only start something with you if you approach them, no more flirting, favoritism, or looming over you.

Nonetheless, they gave a fuck about their agreement, behind closed doors still trying to court you in various different ways, but how could they not? You were perfect, and they were obsessed and way too much in love with you to let someone else have you.

"Where the fuck is Ghost?" Kyle asked, looking around for the scary man with the skull face mask.

"Fucking hell, he is her date."

"Sick bastard."

------

Soap walked into Ghost's barracks, eager to scream at his best friend. He was the first to love you, so Ghost should not have gone on a date with you without telling him. The betrayal felt immaculate, his best friend with the love of his life.

"Aye, Lieutenant, heard you're going on a date with the lassie."

"Johnny, it just happened."

"No hard feelings, LT. Where are you taking her?"

"Alfredo's."

"Oh, okay."

Simon looked confused at Johnny. "What's wrong?"

"Take her to a better place a steakhouse or a fish restaurant. Give her a real meal, not something cheap. Lassies love this fancy shit."

"Thanks, mate."

---------------

Your date with Ghost was okay. He was brooding over something, and as he insisted on ordering something for you as a surprise, despite you telling him no, he did it, wanting to be a posh bloke who knows what his lady wants. Soap said you liked this fancy shit and heavy meat and fish.

As you looked disgusted at the filet steak, trying not to be rude by saying you're a vegetarian, he lost it mentally, not with you but with his best friend, who betrayed him just for you. He'd do the same, of course, but it's still different, right?

The date went on way too cringy, Simon spent most of the time apologizing to you for the messed-up date, and you tried to reassure him that it was okay. When he brought you back home, he asked if he could stay the night, and you politely declined.

"Johnny, I'm going to rip your fucking head off."

"Aye, shit," Johnny screamed as he began to run.

"The date went shit, I guess?" Kyle asked, unfazed by all the screaming from the two men fighting. He acted as if he didn't let slip the information that she is vegetarian next to Johnny or told Price she liked roses after she told him for 20 minutes straight how they are overrated. The best part was no one even suspected him; he was calm about the situation, not trying to solve it with violence like Johnny and Simon. While the others played checkers, he played chess to get you.

"Yes, it was."

"I told you muppets, I'm the one who deserves her."

"Shut up, Price," Ghost scoffed.

"I think so too, Captain should have her. At least he treats her well," Kyle said with a boyish grin.

So the Captain asked you out on a date, and after some convincing, you agreed, making yourself ready and waiting for him in desperation. You looked great, hair curled, mascara applied, and in a dress that was classy but a bit sexy. You knew Price could be a guy for this, maybe a bit too old, but still, you could grow old with him, and maybe he would give you everything your innocent heart desires.

After waiting for an hour, you were sure he wouldn’t come. If only you had known that Ghost was faking an accident and Soap's promise to tell you about it, not to let the sweet angel wait for the Captain. Soap was already on the way to play the knight in shining armor, fully confident to finally sweep you off your feet and make you the future Mrs. MacTavish, his sweet little angel. Oh, how the boys would look to know that he got the heart of their sweetheart finally.

Too late.

"Hey, lovely, why are you sobbing? Do I need to punch someone for you?"

"It's embarrassing, Kyle."

"Tell me about it."

"Just had a bunch of weird dates. One wanted to only bed me, I guess, and the other stood me up," you sobbed, looking into Kyle's pretty face.

"Oh, love, you know that all these guys around the boys are head over heels fighting over you like wild animals."

"Never."

"They are, how couldn't they? You're perfect."

"You're a flirt, you know that."

"And you're too pretty to cry, you know that?" He winked at you, removing the tears from your beautiful eyes.

"You think so?"

"Mhm."

"Kyle," you asked him shyly, looking deep into his brown eyes.

"Yes?"

"Are you one of the boys who fight over me too?"

"Sure as hell, love!" He almost shouted, full of enthusiasm.

"You wouldn’t want what I want."

"And how do you know that?"

"I just want you, to know all, exclusive dating."

"Mhm, I'd give you that without a doubt, love. Just let me prove to you that I'm the right one for you, love." His hand slowly went to your face, caressing the soft skin that was still tinted by your mascara tears. "You have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen." And when you looked at him with your doe eyes, he lost it, slowly pulling his rough lips on your soft ones, holding your head for dear life as if you could vanish any second. He was afraid he did something wrong, maybe scared you like a deer, but you didn't shy away; you pulled him closer, letting his lips intertwine with yours and slowly opening your mouth to let his tongue explore yours. It felt like a firework in your body; every fiber burned with pure passion as he kissed you. You didn't want to stop; you needed him as deeply as he longed for you.

"Fucking Garrick, I didn't think he’d win her over," Ghost murmured behind the wall, watching you with the others in jealousy as Kyle got their girl.

"He played us like fucking fools, telling us it's okay if we win her over," Price muttered, annoyed and kinda proud at his sneaky bastard.

"I'm more of a looker than fucking Gaz," Soap said, annoyed.

As happy as you were right now, all of the boys knew the fight for your heart wouldn’t stop until there was a ring on your finger.

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sharenadraculea · 5 months ago

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Fem!Primarch Au Ideas

Lion El‘Jonson: Is sligthly better at social stuff. Which might just be that it‘s more socially more acceptable on Caliban for a unmarried woman to refuse to speak to men. Officially spends most of her time telling Luther what to say and letting him do the social things. Unofficially has a crossdressing knight-persona to go out and do stuff. It took E like three days to figure out that that knight and Lion are in fact the same person. Might keep the knight-persona even after beeing found. Also she had a habit of sending all suitors on impossible quests in Caliban‘s forests where they would painfully die.

Fulgrim: Chemos has little to no genders. Either you can work or you are dead, what‘s in your pants doesn‘t really matter. Anyways, then Fulgrim get‘s discovered, introduced to the concept of gender and is now very anxious about performing gender expectations correctly. It isn‘t working very well. Guess who might not actually be a woman

Perturabo: Kind of got attic-daugthered by Dammekos, because of course all of that were his ideas, not the ones of a little girl. Perty is not amused by this. She later is in possesion of at least half the warcrime‘s squad braincells (the warcrime squad is a found family thing Angron, Sang, Perty and Konrad have going on), provides all the artillery support for them and is the main Konrad-handler (after Fulgrim of course). I haven‘t yet decided how much they are kissing.

Jaghatai Khan: Something, something crossdressing. Might kiss Morty. That‘s all my notes so far.

Leman Russ: I‘m really not yet sure what to do with Leman, because I could just do some purely cosmetic changes and it would be fine enough. But also I could do some really drastic changes… for example if I remember correctly in viking culture (which is what I‘m going off for Leman) magic was seen as a womens thing so you know ice-witch Leman would be fun

Konrad Curze: Still wondering if gender is something you can eat. Mostly cosmetic changes, but they are a bit more mentally stable due to the support of the warcrime-squad. I‘m considering giving Konrad a decently bad case of has-the-voice-of-a-little-kid, because that would be pretty creepy.

Sanguinius: I‘m going with the „Sanguinus was a slave as a child“-headcanon I‘ve seen in multiple fics and really like. So Sang had some pretty dark stuff happen to her and overall ends up beeing much less nice and more angry, the vibe is „Vampire warlord collecting the heads of her enemies“ and I love it a lot.

Angron: Is still Angron, no big changes here except she and Sang are kind of a couple

Roboute Guilliman: Had to spend a significant of time arguing over beeing allowed into politics directly (instead of doing the proper thing of marrying some old guy, puppeting him from behind the scenes and cashing in on the inheritence). Also Konor is still alive in this au, since Rob happend to be in the senate that day and carrying a hidden sword for entierly non nefarious reasons.

Mortarion: So Calas Typhon‘s mother was drowned for having a child with a overlord (presumably not voluntarely). If people start to suspect something similar happend to Morty, it‘s gonna be very good that Primarchs are very hard to kill. Especially if people don‘t take „there never was a child“ for a answer for where the nonexistent kid is, and start spreading rumors that Morty killed or abandoned it.

And I don‘t yet really have much or anything at all for the rest, so Rogal Dorn, Ferrus Manus, Magnus, Horus, Lorgar, Vulkan, Corvus and Alpharius Omegon, but feel free to give me some ideas

#You might note that I have not yet decided wheter to change their names or not #Also this is just ideas not yet a proper outline #warhammer 40k #female primarch #primarchs #lion el'jonson #fulgrim #perturabo #jaghatai khan #leman russ #konrad curze #sanguinius #roboute guilliman #angron #mortarion

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shadesoflsk · 1 year ago

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WILL YOU BE HOME FOR CHRISTMAS?

pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x gn!reader

summary: It's going to be Leon's first Christmas without you. He promised you he would get over your death. But how is he planning to do it if the ghost of you keeps haunting him?

warnings: Character’s death, (reader) angst, hurt/no comfort, self-destructing behaviour, alcohol, mentions of religion, Leon speaks with reader.

author's note: I took the liberty to switch the order of my Christmas' special fics, I decided to post this one first since I liked it a lot. I would even say it’s my favorite one so far. Grief is such an interesting topic to write about, so I hope I did a great job! The dialogue part was lowkey (highkey) inspired by one scene from the Crown, season 6. The one where Carlos talked with Diana’s spirit.

It’s 11:45 pm or so Leon believes. Time seems to slow down when night engulfs his apartment, and he is let alone with his own demons. He would be in pitch darkness if it wasn’t from the fact that his neighbor had decided to turn on the Christmas tree lights that reached through Leon’s windows. Faint carols could be heard, and it was a dreadful reminder of what date it was.

He is trying, he really is. He drowns in his job that is slowly but surely killing him. Mission after mission, he keeps attempting to mess up — with no avail — since life is cruel enough to keep him alive, to continue watching his sins materialize in sorrow and depressive states.

During the latter, he would often forget or purposely avoid taking care of himself. When was the last time he ate a full meal? He doesn’t nor wants to remember. His apartment was starting to reek of alcohol and rotten food that Claire has so gratefully left. She would often try striking up some conversation, which was welcomed with an awkward but expected silence. He was never the talkative one. On numerous occasions, he was reprimanded by you for this same topic. So, in the past, he decided to stick with a one-liner — that sometimes brought him unnecessary attention — the dinner one. Your laugh would fill his ears as he told you about the multiple times where people thought he was flirting with them. If you were here, could he make you laugh like that again? Or would you be disgusted by the man he has become these last weeks?

Besides his own memory serving as the place where your face and mannerisms would replay all over again, where are you now? He once heard that a soul is destined to be reborn into a new life. Life is cyclical, the sun rises and sets, the day and night come, but they never meet. He wouldn’t be surprised if you’re a lilly now. The pureness in your heart resembled one of those delicate flowers that your eyes seemed to follow each time you passed through a flower shop. Or maybe you’re someone’s baby being born. Bringing happiness to a family that prayed all night long for a miracle to happen.

His mind wandered through the blurry moments when he was young. Prayers and cries surrounding a well illuminated place where many statues were presented. He used to fear one specifically, but the gentle touch of his mom would pull him closer to it. In his memory, he looked up to see the person who gave him life, yet he was met with a diffuse image of her. He has long forgotten the looks of his mother.

In those moments, he often wondered what heaven felt like. He grasps on the last string of memories he had with his parents. How his mother would pull him to her lap and read to him. “Our God loves us so much that he has granted us a place to go when the time is right,” she would say, the term of death was so foreign to his little self but once again he remembers those prayers and promises. Is heaven the clear sky and peaceful home the Bible describes? Or is it a nonexistent place that Christians invented to cope with the fact that a loved one is no longer with them? He hopes it’s the first one since he wants to indulge in that little wish of him — that at least in the afterlife — you found peace.

How is heaven? He wanted to ask you. Conversations with you used to flow so easily, so right. So, when the time comes he expects to hear every little rambling about your early trip to this called “everlasting paradise”. Is it raining right now? You loved rainy days, since it meant that both of you could cuddle while watching a movie. Or is it snowing since it’s Christmas? He could almost hear you, your voice echoing in the deepest places of his mind telling him to stop trying to open the gifts. You were supposed to be next to him right now, waiting for Christmas to come.

He is in denial, two weeks ago he had you safely tucked in his arms, already planning what to do on Christmas. He still had your gift somewhere, hidden from your prying eyes even though you kept scolding him for that. Both of you were soulmates, two sides of the same coin.

Now, he only had the ghost of you haunting him. Mocking him for not being able to protect you. He was hyper aware of every little detail his apartment provided. From the way he hasn’t moved your used mug on the dishwasher, because he feels that it was the last thing your lips touched. A bittersweet memory of your existence in this cruel world, to your book that you didn’t finish. You kept telling him that you were dying to know the ending but you couldn’t finish it before it was too late. If he reads it and prays to God, would he be generous enough to tell you the ending?

He wouldn’t.

Every night he prayed to God, begged him to switch places with you even though it was an unrealistic thing to ask. But that’s what he wants right now. “It should’ve been me.” But that wish never becomes a reality. He wakes up, night after night, being him and being alone. God doesn’t hear him, he believes that this made up character just blatantly hates him. The forgiving, the loving and almighty God as his followers describe him, just doesn’t match up with his own criteria. A loving God wouldn’t have taken away his only reason to live.

The content in his Jack Daniel’s now does little to numb the pain he was feeling. With a sigh, he drank a bit more, straight from the bottle as the burning sensation traveled from his tongue to his throat. If he drinks enough until he passes out, he could imagine you. Moving across the kitchen with agile steps as you cook his favorite food.

Those moments were the ones he thinks he should've embraced more. Your quirks and habits. How you usually left traces of yourself in his apartment. How you always missed a spot when cleaning the counter and how you always kissed his forehead when placing the plate down on the table.

Now, it's a bitter reminder of his own loneliness. His eyebrows twitched as the Christmas carols seemed to get louder. The clock reads 11:50 pm, ten minutes to Christmas. Even with the thick snow, the chants of kids being too stubborn to fall asleep were loud enough to fill Leon's ears. He hates living in this neighborhood filled with happy families.

You had a wide and warm smile when you showed Leon this same apartment he's currently rotting in. “It will be perfect once we have a family,” he remembers word by word what you said and he also remembers how you stumbled on your words once you saw the quizzical look he gave you. “I mean we could just have a dog or a cat if you want that. After all, family is where you are.”

Always the damn perfect partner. Always the stupid understanding other half. Why the hell did you even appear in his life if you were gonna die? Everyone else mourned your death but now they are moving on, yet Leon is staying in a never ending loop. Was it your plan? Are you fucking happy in heaven?

For once, he feels all the anger he’s been bottling up. His fists clenched as his breaths grew heavier. He throws the bottle against the wall. The contents spilling all over the floor as the bottle shattered in multiple pieces. He stared at the mess he’s done. His shaking hands grabbed handfuls of his own hair as he tried his best to compose himself. His mind repeating that you would be disappointed over and over again.

Icy blue eyes started to get clouded by tears he refused to let go. The palm of his hand almost bled by his own nails digging into the thin skin. The regrets and what ifs were the perfect combination for Leon’s wish of dying albeit the fact of his own self deprecating being who believed he deserved to live this hell of a life alone.

As he managed to keep his tears at bay for now, his eyes lingered on your designated seat at the table. You would always sit at his right, next to him, sometimes holding his hand, forcing him to eat his food with his left one. Now, his hand is cold without your touch. Which reminds him of your body and the last time he held you. Your heart no longer beat and your body was a freezing cruel realization of your death.

“I was never good with emotions…” Leon’s voice came out as a groan. He had finally spoken after God knows how long. His own throat was constricted by the lump that was forming. He was denying himself the right to be raw, to be human. “You were the one who was better at everything… not me.” Leon swallows his own saliva, an attempt to stop the imminent lump.

“I guess I was.” A melodic voice which was no more than a whisper filled Leon’s intoxicated ears. He looks at the empty seat next to him and sees nothing. It may be his own mind playing dirty tricks on him. Everything was blurred and dizzy from all the booze he had drunk. But nonetheless, he wouldn’t miss this opportunity, even if you were a creation of his own messed up mind.

“I’ll take every little moment with me.” The voice was painfully comforting, a soothing lullaby to Leon’s broken beyond repair heart, a gentle breeze that surrounded his body. “The hugs, the kisses, our little trips to the beach and even the fights when none of us could go to bed without saying sorry.”

A laugh as soft as a draft lingered in the air. The reality behind those words made Leon feel like he was going crazy. He blames the alcohol and the lack of social interactions for this moment. But your bubbly personality was unmistakable. That sweet and tooth- roothing laugh was — at least to Leon — proof that maybe, just maybe, God allowed him to grasp on you one last time.

Or maybe God allowed you to pay him a visit. Neither of you were religious people, but you were closer to heaven that he’ll ever be. So, maybe that pure and wholesome smile blinded God, and you escaped, true to your rebellious nature. Your death turned him into a sappy man. He has always loved you, but the tragic destiny you met made him see you in an even better light.

“You know I loved you so much…” The voice turned sour and sad, so out of character for you. Well… if it’s you. Even in your last days, you tried to be that thoughtful partner, pushing away every worry out of his mind even though you were slowly withering away. The words slightly trembled, albeit the raw honesty that was being said. Silence set as if the owner of the voice was attempting not to cry.

“So deeply…” The hushed voice seemed to get even quieter as the course of its words dug deeper in Leon’s heart making it bleed harder than ever. His hand itches to reach where he thinks you are, as if you could materialize from thin air and give him one last hug. One last farewell.

“Please, stop blaming yourself for this. This wasn’t your fault.” Yes, it was. Leon wanted to tell you that. You planted seeds of hope in his heart even when he felt the world was too corrupted to be home for someone as splendid as you. The sense of your living left him chasing footsteps and shadows in order to meet you again.

And as a moth to a flame, he followed you. The chemicals in his brain working overtime to hear the gentle ring of your voice as long as you keep talking. It doesn’t matter if this behavior could put him at a psych after. Talking with ghosts? That can’t happen, yet his love for you seems to break the rules between life and the realms of the afterlife.

“You weren’t supposed to go so soon…” Leon’s voice fills the dim room, engaging in conversation, the tears that he was previously fighting off were at the verge of falling from his eyes. But as a stubborn man, he wouldn’t show weakness and vulnerability, even in a moment like this. “I know nothing good lasts long in my life but —” a choke left his lips as the lump is now growing impossible to hold back. “What kind of twisted sin am I paying off? I can’t live a life without you, I simply can’t.”

“I wasn’t done with you, I wasn’t done with our life. I wanted to adopt that dog we saw at the shelter. Do you remember? I wanted to take you to Italy because you once told me you wanted to try a real pizza.” A shaky breath cuts off Leon’s speech before he continues, his slurred words stumbling one another as if he knew he was running out of time. “I wanted to grow old with you, I wanted to be the first person to notice the gray hair appearing in you. The first wrinkles in your face, which I’m sure would have looked amazing in you darling, you were always perfect. I wanted to help you stand up when your legs couldn’t carry the weight of your body. I wanted —”

“Leon.”

“I wanted to at least spend one last Christmas with you.”

He finishes off with one last wish. One last desire he had hid in his mind for a while now. He knew everything had ended, but right now, he wanted to hear you one last time. He wanted to hear an "I love you" from you.

And there it was… the last thing he wanted to hear. Nothing.

As soon as the deadly silence filled the room again, uncontrollable tears streamed down his face. Leon bent forward, his forehead hitting against the hard material of the table, letting out all of his repressed emotions. In the midst of his despair and hatred, he cried not only for you and the fact that he failed to protect you. Each drop carried the weight of every life that was lost under his watch, each one of those bright eyed agents who were looking forward to working with him, and only found death in their paths.

What has he done wrong to deserve this terrible but inevitable outcome? He’s beyond tired, beyond hopeless. In his rage, he could only blame the world.

God, why have you forsaken me?

He stays there for a while, drowning in his own tears. As reality once again sets in. Deep down, he knew this would be the last time. The universe granted him (or cursed him) by allowing him to hear you one last time. Hear the tender tone of your voice calling his name like you used to do. And maybe he should take that with him just like you did.

Everyone dies, so will he. There will be a time when God takes pity on him and allows him to meet you once again. Once the time comes and he's sent to the place where you are, he will tell you about the book’s ending. He will tell you about every mission he will get in the still unknown future. He will tell how much he missed you and how much he loved your presence, even if it was just the blink of an eye. He doesn’t know what else he will tell you, but he’s going to make sure to have a list before parting from this world — in a long, far future.

He had enjoyed meeting and being with you. And if somehow God gives him another chance, he would choose you over and over again.

The sweet carols have grown faint and not even the innocent chants of those children filled Leon’s empty and dark living room. It’s already christmas.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy x y/n #vendetta leon #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy drabble

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candywife333 · 10 months ago

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F*** The Pyramid

PART 1

Genre : Historical

PAIRING : yandere-ish Duke Jungkook x spinster social pariah chubby y/n

Inspired loosely by the Pyramid Games (kdrama which you guys should totally check out) and a novel called ,"The Captain's Wallflower"

Warning: This fic has minimal to no proofreading and the usual blend of outlandish comedy , crude jokes with expletives, smut, and angst (because I can't do without it). This is purely fiction and not a representation of the real Jungkook's true character or that of any other member of BTS.

Currently a trilogy ( thinking of making it a series with all other characters of BTS)

Summary: Duke Jung kook remained the quintessential peer of the realm, born with a platinum spoon in his mouth from the day he arrived into the world. He grew up playing a massive role in determining the structure of the social hierarchy----who gets to be the diamond of the water, the most eligible bachelor (other than himself of course), and.....who gets to be at the bottom of the pyramid ;the very dregs of society, the spinsters and ruined women who would never have a chance at a better life.

His bevy of associates all wealthy and powerful comprised of ; Marquess Taehyung, Baron Jimin, Viscount Yoongi, Viscount Hoseok, and Duke Namjoon (close advisor of the king)--formed the Pantheon (a group of wealthy and powerful men that ruled England). He lived the ideal life, the envy of all others..... or so he had thought. Till he met, Spinster Y/N--- the illegitimate daughter of Baron Stanton. They say, if she looks like a spinster, smells like a spinster (of lavender and epsom salt) , and tastes like a spinster ( though who would ever choose to taste one?) ----then she must be one. But something about Y/N was peculiar. She definitely seemed to be a spinster in name and mannerism. But was she truly one? And what was she hiding?

Cameos: Hwasa (my queen), Chungha, and many others

Part 2

I yawned again. And again. And again. Munched on a croissant. And then proceeded to...yawn again. So boring. I would never deign to come down to London for a Season ever again. That was the only modicum of comfort I was looking forward to. Never showing up here again. The scene would never change, so what was the point? Aunt Alyssa, my mother's older sister, had insisted that I accompany Solji to her debutante season----where she would be introduced to all the other pompous, rich, uninteresting, vapid members of the ton. So she could find an uninteresting, rich husband to marry who would inevitably cheat on her with a mistress and she could pretend to be happy and have his ugly nonsensical big headed babies pushed out of her vagina and die....eventually. I know, my view of the ton and life amongst them is anything other than comforting. Yet after watching so many seasons go by, sitting on my bench (I called it my PERCH) like a cockatoo at the rotten old age of 26, my views were firmly engraved into stone. Nobody could convince me otherwise.

The entire point of the ton's existence was enforcing social hierarchy. There was no other point. True friendships are meager and rare, sanctity of marriage has no meaning ( with affairs flourishing abundantly in dark corners of Vauxhall ) , and love is nonexistent. Love, a concept I had pondered for ages as I watched naive gullible debutantes waltz around with their chosen well-to-do suitors. Suitors that proclaimed sonnets of love initially, yet inevitably lost interest in their gullible little guppy fish wives and relegated those same foolish wives to country estates never to be seen again, so they could priggishly jaunt across London with mistresses on their arms---to operas and **gasp*** decorated bedrooms. Showering attention on mistresses and maids and any other women of relatively low standing --- to suck at their grotesque, syphilitic cucumbers.

Abhorrent. Men never made sense to me, and I was convinced that love was a construct they came up with, to fool women to do their bidding. I mean, at this point, having seen what I have seen, I wonder if they even believe in the hoax called love themselves. My concern after sitting here on my perch for the last 7 seasons since I had come out, is that not once had I been asked to dance. I mean, in the grand scheme of things, I guess it made sense? Chubby , wearing spectacles, and unappealing dresses with colors and designs of years gone by, definitely would not make me the toast of the season by any chance.

Yet, even when I had been a bit more fashionable, and when father had been alive and still holding the position of Baron--I would've expected few offers of marriage by fortune hunters merely seeking my dowry. But alas... that was not be. One girl, that debuted the same year as I did, daughter of Duke Asbury, Lady Seulgi had tripped on her feet while dancing the waltz, into the arms of Baron Jimin , bowling both of them over to the cold marble floors of the ballroom rather unceremoniously. She had bemoaned to the rest of the debuting girls (including little old me) that day, languishing on a chaise as she gesticulated nervously, " I am a miserable dancer. How will I ever survive this wretched Season"?

I had quietly tried to suppress my giggles at her ridiculous tirade. What could she even mean? She was proclaimed the diamond of the first water instantaneously after being presented at court that Season 7 years ago, earning the attentions of all the members of the Pantheon and many other wealthy peers of the realm. Her life was easy. All she had to do was do nothing. Yes, I said it. Merely, NOTHING. Her fate was decided from her birth. Not like the rest of us, who were not conventionally attractive and now.......financially destitute. She had earned the good grace of everyone from birth due to her wealth and strong connections. Even if she had farted, everyone would have applauded her flatulence.

These were the women I didn't understand. The ones who had everything, yet bemoaned their lot in life----frivolous ninnies in my opinion. All the women of the higher echelons of society remained there --marrying similarly wealthy lords and preserving their lineage and wealth. You may ask---is there no social mobility? And I would say, of course bloody not---you simpering little sot. What did this look like? A fairy tale? Cinderella? Princes of good moral standing don't exist. Rich men have options. And they always avail them. Why would a rich man marry a poor woman? Lust. That would be the only real answer.

I know I sounded jaded, and I definitely was. You can only be a trampled on flowerbed for so long, till you start festering and molding with bitterness. I do not profess to be better than anyone else. At times over the years I had wished to feel beautiful, marry a good match, and have a family. But that destiny clearly was not in store for me. The complicated reasoning being that I simply was not conventionally attractive and did not inspire lust in men, and that my father's rather paltry dowry did not inspire even mere greed in men . I am socially inept and quiet by nature. These were all valid reasons.

But, the simple reason I chose to believe---is that one man merely found no utility in me. Who you may ask? Duke Jungkook I would say, without even flinching or stuttering. Others thought "society at large" did not care for them, hence they were mowed over to the corner to become rotten spinsters and outcasts. You know who society was? Duke Jungkook and the members of his Pantheon. But he was still the mastermind. Slickly manipulative, handsome, and wealthy.

He was born sitting on a golden throne, and over the years proved that he was an intellectual. Silently accruing further wealth for his estate through trade and industry---something the Ton usually looked down upon. But since it was Duke Jungkook, it was permissible. Everything was in his case. He was the exception to every rule. If his character description stopped at this, we would have all been fine. But one thing Duke Jungkook seemed to crave is control. He was hyper competitive because he lusted after control---and it's close comrade, power. Power over even the pitiful members of society, he had no business trying to control. He played God for years, and always got away with it.

How do I know he's the one running the show you ask? Well, I had time to observe. And I would say, that is my only true talent. I notice things others don't because I am invisible. A mousy little mite relegated to my pitiful perch. And I noticed everything, from his wagers which either demoted or elevated people's social standings---to the way he manipulated people with misinformation and rumors. He decided who was popular. And he decided who wasn't. And if anyone was to blame for my social standing, I would say it was him. What he had done 7 years ago had reduced me to my position now. It wasn't even anything all that dramatic. He cut me down without even a fight.

I remember it as clear as if it were yesterday, even now.....

"I am so sorry, Lord Jungkook, I wasn't watching my step, please forgive me", I had stuttered in an overly fuchsia dress akin to a little sausage as I sweat incessantly in the stuffy ballroom. Hadn't meant to spill a chalice of lemonade on his coat.

His dark eyes gleamed with amusement and something that I identified as calculation later on in my life , as he brushed it off with a wave of his hand, "Tis' of no import, Lady Y/N. Don't worry". I nodded and curtsied towards him, "Thank you for overlooking my clumsiness, Lord Jungkook. I am sorry to disturb your evening".

I had thought he had truly forgiven me. It wouldn't ruin his reputation, our encounter. It was the mistake of a newly debuted girl, more akin to a child than a woman.

I had believed in the kindness of men and humanity till then. Till he chuckled and slyly condescended in a rather loud and cloyingly sweet tone of voice, "Of course, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. At least you are not as clumsy as your mother in concealing her relations or as clumsy as your father in the way of estate management". He sauntered away lazily as he left me to deal with the fall, whistling a merry tone juxtaposing the social demise he had just inflicted upon an innocently naive girl.

Casually cruel in the name of being honest. Everyone in the ballroom had heard, their eyes and ears peeled towards any interaction involving him as they do generally, as moths do towards a flame. Only Lord Jungkook would know my dad's poor financial status even as a Baron, or about my mother's affairs which had wrung him dry emotionally. Father had resorted to ruining our meager wealth by letting the estate go to spoil. He soon after died of heartbreak at my mother's affairs a year after this horrendous moment.

He had borrowed a massive amount of money from Duke Jungkook, money he would never be able to repay. When he died, the Baron's estate and debt was inherited by cousin, leaving me and my two older sisters with nothing. Thankfully, my sisters were already married off to decent, financially stable men---though they were mere vicars. Not men with titles, but reliable nevertheless. And I was left an orphan. Looked down upon and pitied by my beautifully polished sisters, and members of society as I was unmarried and ineligible according to my looks and lack of dowry--and Duke Jungkook's honorable estimation of my worth (or lack thereof).

Duke Jungkook had ruined my life long before dad had died, and the mere sight of him would remind me of my downfall to this day.

I hated the man to his day, teeth gritting unconsciously. If I ever came across the man in need, I wouldn't hesitate to ruin him. As he had ruined me. He had opened up to the mockery and disdain of the ton. I didn't get invitations to most balls and events by then. The only few I did get invited to were due to my Aunt Alyssa, or shall I say Viscountess Alyssa. I was unmarriageable nevertheless. And I had only stuck around to earn some money by being companion and chaperone for Solji.

The plan was to leave this horrendous place of twinkling lights and crushed dreams for a family--for a baby (a dream I had cherished in my heart of hearts for quite some time). I just wanted to be left alone now. Away from Duke Jungkook's paralyzing serpentine glances that decried me of my humanity and value, and the snickers from other wealthy men at my nunnish appearance. I would go live in a 3 bedroom cottage on the countryside, the only thing that had been entailed to my name in father's will which had not been of any value to debt collectors.

It was a beautiful cottage, tucked away near the edge of a meadow in a quaint little town called Chestershire. We had family vacations in my childhood there. It just required some repair and warm touches, to become a lovely house. I had earned money as companion to Aunt Alyssa so that I could retire there without worrying about money for at least the next 2 years. I would probably start selling garments I had knitted and sewed over the years as well, once those funds ran out.

Just thinking about the cottage and the quiet life awaiting me, filled with baby chicks and piglets and a warm hearth devoid of judging glares filled me with happiness....something I had not been acquainted with for a long time, as a soft smile brightened up my face .

Couldn't wait to leave the bloody pyramid. Every dog has its day. And mine would arrive tomorrow.

Only , if I had known that destiny always knows how to kick a girl in the arse, just when she believes the worst is over.

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I arrived around the evening of the next day after a garrulous carriage ride had tossed me up like a well done egg salad 30 times. The travel was terrible and yet the journey was definitely worth it. Meadows filled with various flowers and fruits stretched up and over sprawling green hills in the weak light of the setting sun , all cresting into a peak at the top of the hill---my home, my cottage. It was just as I remembered it, a homely cottage wrapped around by rose bushes and creeping stalks of bouginvillea and tulips.

The main village center was just a 3 minute walk away, but felt much further away from everyone else, with the way it was situated upon a tiny hill surrounded by an expanse of trees giving plenty of shade to the cottage. I paid the coach man and walked up the hill, sweating and dusty from the ride. As I came up to the door, I could smell the fragrance of a hearty stew wafting out of the window.

Who was in there already?I knocked on the door and was met with a swinging door that gave view to an overgrown golden retriever jostling me to the grassy ground with enthusiastic licks. A buxom lady with sparkling green eyes, and thick brown hair in two plaits exclaimed happily, "Oh, darling Y/N, tis' been a long while since I saw you. Must've been when we were kids, still digging worms from the pond and making little houses for them".

I remembered who it was. Sunny, my old maid's daughter-- who I had played with in my childhood. I patted the dog on its head as I got up, brushing grass from my skirts, enveloping her in a rambunctious hug with a wide grin, "So good to see you sweetheart!!!! Where is your mother? Is she in good health?"

"Oh, she's fine Y/N, just back at home because of her rheumy joints. She finds it hard to keep up with maintaining the cottage, so I am doing the job as of now." I smiled warmly, my insides singing with joy at the jubilant welcome back home. I truly felt at home for once.

Chestershire still remained the quiet town I remembered it to be, idyllic and pasotral. It was a wonderful change of pace--fresh air and sprawling greenery so much the eye could not contain. She grabbed me by the shoulders and hustled me into the clean , well maintained cottage. It was a beautiful interior with leviathan bay windows and plenty of comfortable seating space. I inhaled the hearty potato stew into my mouth, discussing my plans with Sunny on how to make the cottage even more homely and regarding repairs to be done.

Apparently a tiny sum of money was provided by father's will to go for maintenance annually to the cottage. That is why the place hadn't fallen into complete disrepair. It just needed a few homely touches, some floral printed curtains and doilies and warm rugs and blankets. Along with some vases that could contain flowers which shrouded the cottage window-sills.

I had my work cut out for me for the next week. But this work was more welcome than anything else I had had to deal with uptil now.

--------------------BACK IN LONDON

Lord Jungkook was pondering something of the utmost importance at the moment as his valet stared at him, eyes agog with concern. The cravat he was to wear today to Lady Esterly's ball held much salience. It had to be something somber to indicate respect towards the end of her grieving period, yet not so outrageously dark in color that it would be utterly unfashionable. She had lost her gouty ill tempered 70 year old husband few months ago to sickness. And though she was clearly happy to lose him, it would be unbecoming to demonstrate those sentiments in public.

As Jungkook entered the ballroom , something in his subconscious pricked at him. What was this uneasy feeling? He hadn't felt this way since 7 years ago when he had found out that Lady Y/N's mother was having an affair with his father, who had been Duke of Somerset at the time.

His father had been a wealthy and powerful man who had always seemed to always adore Jungkook's mother, the Duchess Somerset. Yet, he had done the exact opposite and when she had least expected it, well into their marriage of 30 years, taken up a torrid relationship with Y/N's mother. Jungkook's mother had died of grief merely a year after his father had made his affections not so secret to society. And his father soon followed her in death due to his weak constitution, succumbing to infection in the winter. Y/N's mother had been left to grieve the passing of his father and her husband that same year. She stayed with one of Y/N's married elder sisters.

He had never noticed Y/N's existence till then, till he found out whose daughter she was as she had scurried around the edges of the ballroom like a nervous rodent since her debut in Society. She wasn't much of a beauty to look at with plain features, full cheeks and a plush frame that seemed more matronly and frumpy than anything else. Her only redeeming feature were her sparkling eyes and lush hair that served to hinder the expressions on her face.

Her attire had deteriorated as her father's estate fell to ruin, thanks to Jungkook availing Jimin's crafty ways of tricking money out of the hands of Y/N's gambling father who had gotten rather desperate for money. Jimin ran a gaming hell that had made many a gentleman penniless---something he took great pride in. According to Jimin, if they lost money to the gaming hell, it was a testament to their bad luck and his good luck.

Jungkook had decided to strip her of any remaining honor, not as though her mother had left his mother with any honor either-- even in her death. It would be comeuppance for what her mother had done. She would pay for her mother's sins. And so he thoroughly ruined her reputation, ensuring she would never have a good life therafter--a life lacking family and a chance at a socially and financially advantageous match.

That's when it hit Jungkook. Where was Y/N? She wasn't in her usual spot overlooking people dancing at her bench. That had been her occupation for the past 7 years, watching people have the life that she would never have--he had made it so.

Jungkook felt extremely uneasy now that he could not spot Y/N. Where the hell was she? She always came to the bigger events that Lady Alyssa and her daughter attended. He had denied her invitation to most smaller ,more intimate events with his social acumen, but not the big ones. She had to see what she was missing out on---life. That had been his revenge plan.

But now she was nowhere to be found. He blindly searched for her, till he came across Lady Alyssa and inquired in a drawling tone , schooling his features into a calm that he didn't mirror the panic he was actually feeling, "Hello, Lady Alyssa. Fine evening it is today, is it not"? Lady Alyssa graciously smiled at him, "Yes, of course it is Lord Jungkook. How are you faring today? Oh, this is my daughter Solji in case you have not met her". Solji gracefully curtsied in her periwinkle floaty dress that showed off her waifish frame in the best light.

He continued in an unaffected tone, "And where is your companion, Lady Solji? Y/N is it"? Solji nodded as she replied, "She has decided to retire to the countryside for a while. Her father left her a countryside residence and so she has chosen to depart early before the season ends so that she can celebrate Christmas over there". Lady Alyssa sighed, stating in a resigned tone, "Anyhow she has no prospects of marriage with how she looks and conducts herself, better she is away from polluting the rest of the ton with her incessant cynicism and gloom".

Jungkook nodded at these statements seeming calm as a cucumber on the outide, whereas he was internally rattled at the happenings imparted to him. She had left? After so many years, she had decided to just leave? Evidently she had gotten tired of not being enough for London. But how could she leave without telling him?Without even an announcement of her departure?

A little voice in Jungkook's head gave him the blatant answer--not like she had any friends to inform of her departure. And not like he was her husband/brother/legal guardian, who she would have to inform of her comings and goings. After his blasting statement 7 years ago, the few friends she did have, left her --frightened of being associated with her ill repute by merely even conversing with her, or being seen in her presence.

She was a free bird, and Jungkook was hating the fact.

She had left him to play his own game. The pyramid only remained so, when there were people at the bottom. Sure, there were others he could and had manipulated to stay at the bottom, but he wanted her to remain there. Not for her to exit the game altogether.

Y/N was not allowed to be happy or have a Christmas, after what his mother had been through---he would definitely ensure this.

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