⭐️local y2k king⭐️

mont - 19 - black - he/they - MDNI ao3 acc: staagzz!

[staagzz]

welcome to my page!

hi all! this is my blog where i post all fictional works (typically nsfw). atm, i'm open to taking requests! and, of course, my page is not for minors, so please do not interact if you're not 18+.

a little about me, i'm a university student majoring in creative writing + minoring in screenwriting, so i'm fairly busy with that lol. however, i'll try to be as active as i can. >:) i'm also queer, non-binary, and use he/they pronouns.

my current fav medias are outlast (all games), interview with the vampire (books + show), jujutsu kaisen, dispatch, gachiakuta, all things greek mythology, resident evil, good omens, and the walking dead.

[staagzz]

Confessions Of A Rotten Soldier, Siempre Viva (Always Alive); NSFW IMAGINE; PRE RE9 AU! Doctor Victor Gideon & Doctor! Male! Reader

Leaning back in your chair with an exhausted sigh, it isn’t long before you hear the sound of pen on paper pausing mid stroke.

“Tired already?” Only able to massage your temples, so depleted after pulling off and on all-nighters every other day and night, you hear a chuckle. “Didn’t think you’d tap out so soon.” Your eyes narrow at the man sitting across from you, his mask on- but even with it, you didn’t need to see his eyes to know he was watching your every move. He was a Nemesis hybrid variant after all, always calculating and perceptive to those around him.

“We’ve been at this for hours.” Your voice is gravelly from lack of hydration, coupled with exhaustion. “All of our time is spent researching Elpis without rest. Forgive me for not being able to keep up with you, someone that doesn’t need to rest nearly as much as a normal human does.” His grin doesn’t waver, even at the slight jab. It’s true. The last time that he had slept was a few days ago, and that had been enough to keep him and his biologically altered system going. Unlike yours, his voice is smooth and light despite its deep tone. “You do well despite our differences. Keeping up with me isn’t easy, yet you’re.. good enough.” 

The banter between you two was normal. You’d met him ages ago, back when you were both pursuing doctorates. Back when he was still fully human, unaltered and more alive than he was now. But you’d keep that criticism to yourself. He stood after a moment, journal and pen set to the side as he briefly stretched. All 8 feet of him dominated the office, his head eclipsing the only light in the room in something that would have been beautiful if you’d had had the energy to admire it. With a necessary tilt of his head downwards, he watches your gruff form- the wrinkled button up and scruffy stubble catching his attention.

To him, you looked best like this. Caught in the entrancing throes of research and hungry for more knowledge, an ever-present desire to understand more. Your drive was your most beautiful trait, and he admired the way that it stood on equal footing with his own. “Why don’t we take a break? The breakroom was refilled with coffee and refreshments earlier.” His suggestion was appealing, enough so that he didn’t have to finish it before you’d found it in yourself to leave the worn but plush leather chair that you’d been sitting in prior. Gideon crossed the room in a few steps, the custom doorway accommodating his height easily so that he didn’t have to bend down. Sluggish steps made your movements slow as you followed at a significantly slower pace. “I could use some coffee with whiskey. That’ll wake me right up.” When you spoke up, he looked back over his shoulder- golden teeth glinting in the fluorescent light. “I think we can accommodate that.”

The breakroom was empty. All employees, except for the overnight nurses and doctors, were still busy working. There was something calming about the narrow room, the sound of coffee brewing in a pot, and the unearthly coolness coming from Gideon. It didn’t matter how close you stood to him, if you weren’t looking at him, you’d have never known that he was there. Tall, quiet, too cold to sense, and a presence that demanded attention when he needed it to. He would’ve been intimidating if you hadn’t known him for over thirty years and counting. On the way there, you’d stopped by the bar and lounge to snag a still-sealed bottle of whiskey, which was now opened in your hands. Fingers enclosed around the neck firmly, you took a swig of it, the urge having grabbed hold of you. The coffee was taking too long, and at this rate, you would have gone to sleep if you hadn’t had something strong in your system. Reports were due to The Connections, and if you two didn’t meet quota with the research they wanted, it’d be over. No more funding and no more hope of unlocking Elpis. The thought made your stomach churn, brows furrowing. This couldn’t have all been for nothing, could it? 

“You’re thinking hard about something.” Gideon’s voice cut through the onslaught of thoughts, leading you to look up at him. He was watching you, the coffee dripping and pouring in the background serving as white noise to fill the otherwise empty space. His non-dominant hand was on the counter by his side now that he was facing you, clearly interested in what had had you so occupied. “If I’d known it took whiskey to get you thinking, I would’ve kept a bottle on hand every time we worked.” You knew he was joking, but the idea didn’t sound too bad. Instead, you humored him, even if only for a moment.

“Between the both of us, we should just move our work to the bar for easy access. My tolerance is high, but yours?” The swig you take is burning, yet it gives you the slightest peace of mind. “It’d take a few liters of anything for it to affect you.” Despite knowing this, you pass him the bottle anyway. It may not be enough for it to do anything relaxing for him, but the flavor was rich and nutty with a subtle oaky note that you knew he appreciated. He visibly debated for a moment before taking the bottle and sipping from it, savoring the flavor. You were right, he’d liked it. Though, rather than give it back, he set it onto the counter by his side, the one opposite of yours. “Save some for your coffee, if you even have any intentions on still drinking some.” 

When the brewing process finished, he grabbed two mugs and set about pouring your drinks. Since it was there, he added whiskey into each before handing you yours, his still in his hand. “Here.” After you grabbed it, you held the steaming cup. Too hot to drink, you were careful with it, unlike Gideon, who sipped from it immediately. The coolness of his body and cold blooded nature made the way he registered heat different. It fascinated you, disturbed you, and intrigued you all at once. This wasn’t the man you’d once known back in university that burned his mouth drinking coffee too quickly before exams. This wasn't the man that would come to your dorm late at night to relax after a difficult day of classes, only to get entranced by your voice and lean in closer just to feel your body pressed against his. Those stolen moments of secrecy between you both, all rumpled sheets and heated passion, all ended the moment you’d both graduated. He’d left, made a name for himself- a reputation of being an elite doctor, fully backed by Umbrella. Years had gone by before you two made contact again, but when you had arrived at his newly established care facility and seen the difference in his appearance and demeanor, it had only served to cement the changes between you both. 

While you weren’t as dedicated to Umbrella as he was, you couldn’t deny how much project Elpis had interested you. The idea of something so powerful just out of reach, something that could change the world as you knew it, was tantalizing. You’d worked on it with him for a long time, but it was starting to take its toll. Long nights were no longer nearly as rewarding as when you’d both first started out. Results came slower, and eventually, trickled into nothing. It was frustrating, but you’d dedicated so much time to it that you couldn’t stop. You didn’t even think you’d be able to if you tried. As you lost yourself in thought again, you hadn’t realized you’d been staring at Gideon while he sipped at his coffee. Your trance was broken when he stepped in front of you entirely, his mug now on the counter. “Your coffee’s lukewarm now. Stopped steaming entirely.” 

When you looked down, he wasn't joking. The faint wisps of steam had slowed to a stop. Just how long had you been in your own head for? “You know,” He started, yet you weren’t entirely paying attention. “I’ve heard cold brew’s all the rage now. If you’d wanted something cool, I could’ve just..” His words trailed off as the sensors in his mask sensed a change in your heartrate. When he altered the dials with his fingers to zoom in on your face, he was taken by surprise when you set the coffee mug down and instead reached out for one of the buckles on his shirt near his collar, guiding him down to meet you nearly face to face. It’d been so long since he’d seen you like this- a certain hunger in your eyes and desperation bubbling from deep within. It appealed to him in a way that he hadn’t realized he’d missed seeing.

“I can’t do this anymore, Victor.” Your voice was steadfast, even if it wanted to waver. You’d been in your head so much that at this point, you’d do anything to be in the present. “Long hours of work without respite, despite the history we have between us. I remember when we’d get so frustrated with exams and lengthy homework that we’d take out our pent up energy on each other all night until the sun rose. Just once, just for tonight, I need that again. I need a distraction, something that can make me stop thinking about all of the bullshit this project has put me through. I can’t afford to think about it, or lament over what we used to have. I’ll lose myself and my drive if I do.” 

Your words, your desire to experience something other than the monotony of work and a yearning for the past, led Gideon to oblige. Forked tongue sliding over the top row of his golden teeth as he considered what to do, he then stood tall and lifted you with ease into his arms. Your legs hugged his hips tightly, eyes widening with surprise as your arms scrambled to wrap around his neck to secure that you didn’t fall. His strength was inhuman, fully doing its job to remind you that the man you’d be sleeping with wouldn’t be the same as the one you’d known decades prior. The difference excited you. His voice was smooth, contrasting with the roughness of his cracked, leathery skin. “I’m not a gentle lover, (Reader). I’m not going to pretend to be something that I’m not. However,” He caressed your cheek, a tender gesture, one that he could recall you liking. He was pleased by your reaction, an inclined lean into his touch. “I’ll take my time with you all the same.” 

The trip back to his primary office was quick, a blur of messy kisses and groping touches. His skin didn’t bother you, each crack and groove only something new to map out and explore. His lips, rough and yet waxy in texture, delighted you all the same. Your hands fisted in his hair as he kissed you passionately, large hands squeezing your ass hard enough to make your breath hitch. The moment you both were behind closed doors, he sat you down on the desk after clearing it- knocking papers, folders, and pens to the floor in a scattered mess. What mattered most was your body on his, and he was intent on getting as much of you as possible. When you reached for his mask, he grabbed your wrist to stop you. “Not yet,” He murmured against your lips, whiskey tinged coffee breath filling your nostrils from the proximity.

It was intoxicating, and served to make your arousal even harder to ignore. “Just wait a while longer.” His hands parted your thighs wide enough to further accommodate for his body, lips finding yours again in heated exchanges of passion. Wet saliva moistened his lips and yours to the point that it began to dribble down your chin, the slickness only spreading when he navigated to the side to nip and suckle marks deep into the expanse of your jawline and neck. While he got busy, you worked to unbutton your shirt and remove your tie. Pulling both off to give him better access to your upper half, the moment that he reached up to brush a rough thumb over your nipple, the sensation made you moan. 

His work was insistent as he remained a steady constant, embracing the sensation of your hands eagerly working to undress him. It took mere moments for his snakeskin trench coat to be removed, the expensive piece tossed onto a couch in the room with his assistance. His shirt was the next to go, leaving the both of you bare from the waist up. However, that soon changed as he got to unbuttoning your slacks and unfastening your belt, freeing your aching arousal, the telltale wetness dampening your boxers only making his hands more quicker. “Raise your hips.” He requested, voice leaving no room for bargaining, not that you’d ever want to in the first place. With a shift of your body, he slid down the fabric to free you entirely, dropping the final layer to the floor. Removing his rings and pocketing them into his pants, he began teasing your sex with his dominant hand, the roughly calloused texture of his fingers making you buck your hips for more with soft grunts and moans. He leaned in again and kissed you, swallowing each and every sound that you made. Driven by the way you grabbed at his arms and body, as if needing more, he eventually got the notion and trailed his kisses downwards. 

The sight of him on his knees before you was enough to make your stomach flutter, especially when he hoisted your thighs up onto his broad shoulders. A forked tongue slipped out to wet his lips as he grinned up at you, hands squeezing at your thighs firmly. “Try not to be too loud, (Reader). We’re still in my clinic, after all. What would the nurses and doctors say if they heard you all the way from my office?” He leaned in, heated breath ghosting along your sex. You shiver, and he strokes your inner thighs lightly, reveling in the way that they twitch inwards from the stimulation. “Oh, and I forgot to mention.. The door isn’t locked. You’ll have to try extra hard.” Your eyes widen and mouth opens to protest, yet your words are cut off the moment that his tongue flicks out to lick at the sensitive head of your tip.

“Bastard,” You manage through gritted teeth, jaw tense as he continues without any sign of stopping to converse. “You enjoy seeing me like this, don’t you? Struggling to keep quiet?” His response isn’t verbal but nonetheless just as effective, lips fully enclosing around the head of your cock and sucking rhythmically in short bursts. Despite the way that your legs flick inwards, sensitiveness taking hold, it doesn’t stop him in the slightest. Rather, he doubles down and takes more of you in his mouth. His forked tongue is long enough to wrap around some of the length of your girth, the mind-numbing heat and slick sensation causing your head to fall back on your shoulders. It takes all of your energy to not get too loud, even as moans and low groans of his name easily slip out. Though, it isn’t until you hear the slicker sound of something unraveling and a cold press against your entrance that you look down- barely able to fathom what you see. 

A lengthy tentacle of sorts had emerged from his back, the girth of it surrounded with cords of pure muscle covered in the same leathery skin that was on his entire body. The thinnest point, the end, is insistently pressing against your hole. It’s slicked up, with what you aren’t sure, before it’s finally pressing inside. The tentacle undulates in time with each bob of his head, and as it gets deeper, you aren’t sure how long you’ll last. When your thighs firmly clamp around his head, he pushes them apart and holds them firmly against the desk, preventing you from moving your lower half and squirming away. He reverently sucks and worships your cock, looking at you all the while, at least- you can only assume so with his mask still on. For all you know, he could be measuring your heart rate just to see what affected you most. Sometimes, he was too smart for his own good. Your moans increased just as he pulled off, a hand replacing his mouth as it pumped at your slicked sex.

“You’re lasting longer than I thought you would. Impressive.” His tentacle slipped itself further inside of your body, the thickness reminiscent of two or three thick fingers. It worked to stretch you out, and the knowledge of that fact made it all the more arousing. It felt too good to care about, and if you were being honest with yourself, you wouldn’t mind letting it happen more often. When you spoke, your voice was rough, sweat slicked skin obvious under the hot lights of Gideon’s office. “I have to last if I’m going to keep up with you. Tapping out early isn’t my thing.. I thought you knew that by now, Vic.” Hips rolling into the feeling of his firm hand around your length, you barely suppressed a low whine. It made him smile watching you attempt to restrain yourself. “Your ethic and drive is admirable, but.. I’d rather you learn to let go when it’s appropriate. Like now.” He leaned back in, pumping the base of your cock as his thumb rubbed along the sensitive underside, making your breath hitch and head swim. “You wanted a distraction, didn’t you? Then focus on letting me make you feel good. Nothing else matters.” 

At that moment, he pushed the tentacle inside further until it felt like another finger or two had been added. Your back arched and the sound you made was loud, but he didn’t prevent you from making it. Instead, like with everything he was passionate about, he doubled down and saw to it that you’d do nothing less than have a satisfying orgasm. His tongue stuck out and he lapped at the tip of your cock before swallowing the head down a final time, cheeks hollowing out as he took you in. The sight made you scramble to hold onto the back of his head, guiding him down further as you finished, thighs trembling as you lost yourself. Cock throbbing as you pumped a load down his throat, he swallowed it all down without much issue, only pulling off when you were done.

As you caught your breath, he pulled the tentacle out and stood up, rolling his neck as you collected yourself enough to focus on him. When you did, the tentacle was gone and he was removing his pants and briefs. His girth was thick with an upward curve, the mushroom head a slightly deeper grey than the rest of his skin. It was fat with thick, pronounced veins visibly throbbing beneath the skin of his shaft as he stroked it slowly, eyes on you. When you met his gaze, cheeks heated and slightly less breathless than before, he moved in closer. Free hand coming up to caress your cheek like earlier, he swiped his thumb slowly over your lip. “I’ll admit.. I missed doing this.” 

The words weren’t lost on you. In fact, they were reciprocated. Gideon was a passionate man, yet he didn’t enter relationships easily. Friendships were scarce or falsified for profit, but with you, it’d been different. Perhaps it’s due to the fact you knew him before he’d become a Nemesis variant, or because you’d had intimate relations prior to everything. But one thing was for sure, you knew that you didn’t want it to come to an end. Not again. Your hand came up to cover the hand on your cheek, a gesture that gave him pause, as if he hadn’t expected you to reciprocate. “I missed it, too.”

The look in your eyes was enough to make him consider something, the invisible cogs turning before he reached up to remove his mask. When it was gone and you were both able to see each other face to face, really face to face, the energy shifted. The tender moment slipped into something more raw, your legs parting to hook around his hips. His girth pressed against your lubricated and prepared entrance until it pushed inside, making you both groan. He worked it inside gradually with shallow thrusts until you were physically able to take every last inch, the sensation of it consistently hitting your most sensitive and hard to reach spots enough to make you whimper. He moved his hips and pumped his cock in and almost all the way out before pushing all the way back inside until you could handle him.

 As the time passed and you grew more comfortable, your hands found his back and you let your nails bite into the skin, the sensation encouraging him to move harder and rougher. Each powerful thrust of his cock into your slick channel made the leftover contents on his desk rattle or fall off, the sounds of your body and his meeting filling the room along with your moans and his deep grunts and huffs. It got to a point that he eventually gave up on trying to go slow and intimately deep, guiding you to lie back on the desk until your head hung just off the edge. His hands found the underside of each of your knees, pushing them back. With little regard for your flexibility, but making sure not to hurt you, he leaned down- your legs now propped up on his shoulders as he pivoted and drilled into you deep and hard.

He couldn’t care less about who walked in or who would hear your loud cries of pleasure, so long as it meant that you’d keep clenching around him so hard that he could barely think. His cock throbbed deep inside of you and he knew this was exactly what you’d both needed after years, decades of nothing. It took everything in him not to go too rough, but even if he had, Gideon had a feeling that you wouldn’t have minded. Instead, he angled his hips to hit your sensitive spots with every stroke until you were clawing down his back, the achingly persistent sting making him moan right into your ear. 

“Vic! Oh, fuck.. I’m not going to last-!” You manage between moans and incoherent pleas for more, swears decorating your language. His reply is to kiss you through it, hand reaching between you both to pump and jerk your sex until you’re finishing hard- back trying to bow off of the table yet unable to with how pinned you are beneath Gideon’s weight and size. The feeling of you squeezing around him is too much, and with a few more well timed thrusts, he’s filling you up deeper than anyone you’d ever been with, with an almost inhuman amount of seed. You’re both panting by the time each of you are finished, the thrill and adrenaline of sex finally beginning to settle into post-coital bliss. The afterglow is all consuming, but when he pulls you up to his chest and picks you up off of the desk, still connected as he walks to the couch in the office before sitting down with you on his lap, that’s when he finally allows himself to relax. His arms settle around your waist and he sighs with content, thinking for a beat or two before looking down at you with a subtle grin. “Think the coffee’s ice cold by now?”

tysm for reading! if you'd like more, I've linked my ao3 below :3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/78631326/chapters/213223706/edit

[staagzz]

WAIT CAN WE SEE YOU BAG NOW :D I WOULD LOVE TO SEE IT >:3

yeah!! here it is, eddie's on the left and coyle's on the right!

[staagzz]

Omg, I just found you.. AND I HAVE PHOTOS OF THE KEYCHAINS :D And I am ThePhantomX

OMG HIIIII! and those are so cutesy what??? i def saved them to my shopping list and i plan to get them soon >:)

[raqualswonderfunblog]

[b3ndy]

Kinda resent the whole idea of "ohh trans people are born that way" and "gay people are born that way" thing because like. Personally, at some point I WAS a little girl. I loved being feminine and was fine being a girl when I was still wee. But then something changed and now I prefer to present and be referred to and to Be masculine in some sense. And that's valid.

And like. Attraction changes throughout people's lives. The obvious one where people tend to be attracted to anyone their age or older and it shifts as they age but smaller things like preferences, and what they find attractive in a person too. Including gender or presentation.

We don't need to be Born a certain way to be valid or real. If you are something then you are something. The butterfly was a caterpillar at some point but it's a butterfly Now and that's what matters. Let's stop teaching people that they can only ever be one thing throughout their entire lives and remember people change sometimes.

[yellowyarn]

Actually, the "F" on my passport is for faggot, not female.

[staagzz]

Confessions Of A Rotten Soldier, Monitoring; NSFW IMAGINE; Sugar Mama! Ada Wong & Streamer! Sugar Baby! Male! Reader

“I expect my money to be wired over by midnight.”

Dark heels clicked against sleek marble flooring as she turned and walked away, her latest task completed effortlessly. All her client had wanted was confidential information from a rival company in order to steal their prized formulas. Not that she cared, but she found it pathetic either way when a supposed ‘genius scientist’ had to resort to such underhanded tactics. Again, not that she cared. As long as there were wealthy people at the end of their rope that were looking to pay her for her services, she’d always be secure in life. After all, the money was well earned and flowing. She couldn’t even remember the last time that she’d struggled to pay for anything. Especially when she could afford an enormous amount of luxuries that the average person could only dream of.

Like an attractive man that let her do as she pleased whether they were physically together or apart, all for a healthy check and cash in his pocket. She didn’t care for the men out there that wanted a sweet, submissive woman by their side. What she liked was a man that knew his place, whether it was right by her side and spending only what she gave him, or turned on beneath her heel. If he happened to be especially submissive outside of the bedroom, that was even better. As it stood, being in control gave her an addictive rush of authority that she'd never get tired of experiencing.

And as of late, she’d managed to find one man in particular that was exactly her type. He streamed from home, playing games or vlogging- but had amassed a significant portion of followers on most social media platforms. He was attractive and always did his best to please her, which she always rewarded. Not that he seemed to be in it much for the money. She could respect the dedication that he had when it came to his work ethic, always streaming evenings from 6pm-9pm each night. On rare occasions, he’d cut it short if he had important plans.

As evening rolled around the next day, she sat on her bed, laptop already propped up and turned on. Warm ivory skin glistened faintly from the oil that she’d massaged onto her body, briefly bending to pull on black satin shorts that hugged her hips, now coupled with the deep red lounge top that she’d slid on earlier. Her phone buzzed low with each text that she received, and when she finally sat down to look at them, she found herself grinning. (Reader) had done exactly as she’d asked him to do for tonight’s stream, like always, with pictures sent as proof. The sight of him on the bed, downward doggy style and legs spread enough to show off the vibrating plug buried deep inside of his body- stopped only by the circular red heart gem base, was exciting. The following pictures, each of him in a different position or stroking his sex, were equally as appealing. Though, what he sent next made her core tighten with arousal.

‘Stream starts in five minutes. Already dressed again and ready when you are, Ma’am.’ He’d sent the message and sat back in his seat, gaze set on the stream countdown. He only had a few minutes to gather himself mentally before starting a new game that had recently come out. Fortunately for him, half of it was just cut-scenes. Unfortunately, it consisted of multiple choice dialogue options and quick time events. That wasn’t even factoring in how difficult it’d be interacting with his chat while toggling between both youtube and twitch simultaneously to ensure that everything was working smoothly.

Still, he adjusted his microphone and turned the LED lights around his streaming room to a low orange hue, helping the background take on a more cozy appearance. With two minutes remaining, he shifted slightly and yawned- the sound turning to a moan as he felt the phone app activated vibrating plug inside of him come to life. He suddenly regretted putting in the largest and longest one that he owned, the sensation of it pressed curtly against his most sensitive spot making him rock his hips on the padded gamer chair that he owned, hands gripping the arms as he rode out the stimulation. ‘Ada certainly didn’t plan to make this easy for me, did she?’ He thought, about to close his eyes and give into the feeling when the startling sound of his stream countdown reaching ten seconds jolted him into action. Sitting up straight and running a hand through his hair, he took a deep breath, schooling his expression into something warm and friendly to his viewers as he unmuted the microphone and turned on the face camera.

“Welcome back to another stream, guys. I’m glad that you all could make it..” As he spoke to his stream and went over the plan for that night and the week’s current schedule, he did his best to avoid looking too distracted. Of course, that was incredibly difficult with a vibrator shoved up inside of his body and a few hundred people, and counting, watching his every move. What made it more difficult, was that he knew Ada was watching him right now. He knew that she’d have his twitch stream pulled up on her laptop, keeping an eye on everything from how his breathing hitched to the way he’d bite his lower lip. His suspicions were confirmed when an hour into the stream, and only about fifty minutes into the game, he got a donation.

MadameRed donated: $300! ‘Your gameplay’s looking a little more frazzled than usual. Have this as an encouragement to do better.’

He listened to the automated voice read the message aloud, cheeks warming slightly. Alright, he’d messed up a few quick time events when the vibrator had spiked in intensity, and he’d let a couple dialogue options pass him by and be chosen automatically when the timer ran out, but only because of the way she was edging him. Nonetheless, he smiled and spoke, knowing that if he didn’t thank her, he’d be punished for breaking a key rule in their established dynamic. “Thank you for the donation, Madame. I’ll try my best!” He gave the camera a brief smile and playful salute before turning his focus back to the game. As the vibrations died down to a complete stop, he sighed with relief. Clearing the first and second chapter of the game was easy- especially as his chat got more immersed in the storyline. Who knew that being a dispatcher for heroes could be so fun?

Just as he began the third and last chapter of the night, each one having taken about an hour to complete, he felt the vibrations spike to the highest intensity. His knee bounced up and hit the desk, his face camera shaking for a few moments as he just barely suppressed a groan. “Sh- Shit, sorry- caught a.. chill.” He paused the game and rapidly bounced his foot on the floor. “Gonna head downstairs and change the temp.. Maybe grab a snack. You all should do the same.”

With that, he closed out his face camera and made sure that his microphone was muted before sitting back in his chair, moaning quietly. Able to rock his hips as much as he pleased, he tugged his pants down and parted his legs, about to finally touch himself until his phone rang. He wanted to ignore it, to make himself finish anyway, but knew better than to do so. With a soft whimper, he clicked on the face-time call and propped it up to show his upper half, cheeks burning with embarrassment for pausing the stream to please himself without her explicit permission. “Ada-” He paused and swallowed, breathless as his hips continued to rock into the plug rumbling in his core. “Ma’am, please, I’m so close.. I can’t..” Yet when he looked at his phone, really looked for a moment, and saw that she wasn’t in her lavish apartment but her car.. his eyes widened. “You’re.. coming over?”

Her smooth voice filled his stomach with butterflies. “I’m in your driveway, actually. Drove here while the vibrator was off earlier and turned it back on when I arrived.” He throbbed when her voice lowered. “Come get the door for me, baby. You told your little chat that you had to go downstairs anyway, right?” Without a second thought, he stood up and almost immediately buckled forward, hands landing on his desk to steady himself as his legs trembled. “You can’t seriously expect me to walk down the hall, down the steps, and to the front door with a vibrator buzzing right against where it feels best without me cumming in my pants.” He was already close to the edge. It was taking everything in him not to let go yet, but what she proposed made his arousal die down quickly. “If you happen to finish before letting me inside, I won’t allow you a single orgasm tonight.”

The last thing that he wanted was to be left on edge for god knows how long until their next meet up. And so he gathered himself, trying to get this done as quickly as possible. If he didn’t think about it, he’d be able to dash downstairs easily and open the door for her. Except the moment that he took a step towards his gaming room door, he felt the vibrator press harder against his sensitive spot. Each step rubbed it around, and by the time that he’d made it downstairs, he was flushed and breathless.

His legs shook as he just barely made it to the door, swinging it open to be met with the sight of his sugar mama and domme standing there, arms crossed and brow now raised as she took in his debauched state. “I’m surprised that you actually made it down here.” Extending a sliver of mercy and taking her phone out, she clicked off the vibration setting from the app. Before arriving, she’d switched to a tight red bustier top that hugged her cleavage and curves, followed by her favorite black jeans. But it wasn’t until he followed the motion of her pocketing her phone that he noticed the bulge in her pants, and the sudden knowledge of knowing that she’d worn her strap all the way here in preparation of them getting together.. It made his mind slip further into that lustful, submissive haze that he knew she loved. And he was right, because as she made herself comfortable by removing her leather jacket and hanging it up before taking his hand and leading him up the stairs to his gaming room, he knew that she had him right where she wanted him.

Ada took her place, sitting on his gaming chair with her legs spread, heels planted firmly on the floor. “Drop to your knees and come to my feet like the heel humping bitch that you are.” She demanded, gaze scrutinizing as she watched him obey within seconds, dropping to his knees in the doorway and crawling forward on all fours, even as she knew he was overstimulated from the plug buried inside of him. The view of him coming forward and soon desperately nuzzling his face into the bulge of her strap, moaning and mouthing at it in an effort to pull the zipper down with his teeth, it made her own cheeks warm slightly. “You know your place. Good.”

Relenting a little, she brought his head up by gently tugging on his hair and used her free hand to unbutton and unzip her jeans to allow the flesh-like and malleable dildo attachment to pop out. The warm ivory tone and realistic veins looked more like an extension of herself rather than a toy, even with the sleek black leather harness fastened over her equally dark lace lingerie. With it buckled securely to her body to avoid risking it coming loose, Ada encouraged him to suck on it as she brought his head back down to face it. Since she knew that he could handle large sizes and had been wearing his largest plug for a number of hours, she hadn’t hesitated to find her favorite dildo attachment before coming over- the length coming in at a solid nine inches long and three inches wide.

“Mm.. looks like your fans are getting worried,” Her gaze had settled on the primary screen to her right as she read out a comment that had gotten her attention. “Someone named 'Jacobi98' is asking if you got distracted while downstairs. Should I say something?” Just as he was about to come up off of her strap to respond, she coaxed him back down with the hand still in his hair, tutting softly. “Ah-ah, I didn’t say that you should stop, now did I?”

Rocking her hips up to push the silicone deeper into his mouth, the sound of him gagging on it made her aching cunt throb. She steadied the pace of her thrusts to be slower and deeper, coaxing out as many moans and whimpers as he could let out. While he got busy, she looked at the computer again and clicked the unmute button, maintaining the secrecy of what they were doing by not showing what was happening. Instead, she spoke in that smooth, low timbre that made his twitch chat suddenly explode. “You all act so needy for his attention.. cute. (Reader) will be back soon. Happy with that update?” Muting the microphone before they could hear him moan from a particularly rough thrust, she then pulled him off and looked down at his drooling mouth and half lidded eyes.

“Stand up. Hands on the wall and ass out. Spread your legs, too.” The directions made him get up quickly- shedding his clothes and tossing them elsewhere. Standing with his hands on the nearest wall, he did as directed and arched his back, ass out and legs spread wide. After having been on edge for so long, he knew that he wouldn’t last. "Thank you, Ma’am. Thank you so- fuck!”

He moaned as she pulled out the plug that had been keeping him full. As she positioned herself behind him, equally as bare now, the tip of her silicone length tapped at his slightly gaped entrance. Pushing it inside and rocking her hips until it went in all the way, he felt her begin to thrust with quick, rough pumps. He didn’t even try to be quiet. “You’re so good at this! Ada, Ada.. I’m all yours. I’m all yours to fuck whenever you want. Yours to tease and edge until I’m losing my f- fucking mind..” He rambled breathily, head hanging down between his arms as he felt his orgasm start to build back up again. It hadn’t even been five minutes before he was finishing a hefty amount, whining and moaning his pleasure as she fucked it all out of him. When he had nothing left and was thoroughly drained for the time being, he felt her pull out as the sound of buckles becoming undone hit his ears.

Letting the strap-on drop in her haste to relieve the aching need in her own body, she went back to the gaming chair and sat down before parting her legs wide- raising and hooking either leg over the arms of his chair. “I need your mouth.” She watched the way his eyes practically lit up as he got back onto his knees and leaned in. Keeping an eye on him, it took only a few minutes of devoted work for her soft moans and encouragements to pick up in volume as he eagerly continued. Her hips remained still as he suckled at her clit and pumped two fingers into the clenching wetness of her sex, her own hands coming down to grip him by the hair and tug his mouth closer if possible. She didn’t let up, especially as she got closer, voice unsteady as she watched him work between her thighs. “Keep going for me, (Reader). I’m almost there..” Her back arched slightly as she felt her orgasm build to a fever pitch, eyes momentarily squeezing shut as she finished in his mouth, cunt throbbing around his fingers as her sticky, salty-sweetness coated his lips.

She hadn’t even come down from her high yet when she moved her legs back down, looking at him with a heady, yet intense, gaze of her own. “I’m not done with you yet.” Luckily for her, there was a soft and plush rug in the middle of the floor. It’d have to do, so she pointed to it. “Go lie on your back, knees near your chest and legs spread wide. I need to use your cock for a few minutes.” Ada could tell by the look in his eyes that he hadn’t expected that. For the entirety of their relationship thus far, she hadn’t had any interest in taking this next step in their intimacy. But seeing him be so eager to please, she couldn't ignore the way that it made her want more.

Once he was in position and so was she, having moved off of the chair to fold him in half with her body to mount him amazon style, her hands gripped his ankles tightly as she finally allowed their lower halves to meet. Their simultaneous moans filled the room as she rutted her hips to stimulate her aching cunt on his girth. Despite the fact that she was doing all the work, the faint sound of their hips colliding every time that she dropped down on him, he did what he could and held her waist to encourage the sensual grind of her body on his. “Fuck me until you finish. Use me all that you want, Ada.” He panted, gazing up at her with the type of reverence that went beyond the boundaries of their sexual relationship. Shit, had he fallen for her?

The feeling of her wet cunt on and around him was too much. His hands slid up to hold and fondle her breasts, which she arched into and grinned down at him for. “Can’t resist me, can you? That’s alright,” Before he knew it, she was leaning down to meet him for a kiss, the first of the night. The filthy exchange of tongue and saliva and all things messy made them both finish with sharp groans and loud moans as a few overstimulating throbs of his aching cock and her slick grip made the mess between their joined sexes wetter. When she broke the kiss and sat up again a few moments later, hips rolling a little to test the waters, he felt his heart pound a little faster than before. “I think that I’ll keep you around.”

tysm for reading! if you'd like more, I've linked my ao3 below :3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/78631326/chapters/206746511

[vetckkie]

girl get off that c.ai and embrace the 'x reader'

[theartofmadeline]

happy pride to the gay people in my computer <3

[staagzz]

Confessions Of A Rotten Soldier, Magnetic; NSFW IMAGINE; Married! Karl Heisenberg x Married! Male Reader

This wasn’t going to work.

He knocked back his second glass of whiskey off the rocks and puffed his cigar, chasing the woody taste with a more than welcome breath of fresh smoke. “You’re weak.” Heel tapping incessantly at the ground beneath his wheeled stool, he sat there quietly, head in his hands. Every single man that his Lycans brought back to him wasn't good enough. Not for what he had planned. Karl had started smart with this. Have them take people from neighboring villages and small towns, keep them alive and bring them to him directly. This way, Mother Miranda either wouldn’t know or care enough to figure out what he was doing. What he’d so meticulously planned and finally, finally put into action. He was so close- all he needed was his metal army to grow. Which it would, if he could figure out why his Soldats weren’t working the way that they should. Was it something he had forgotten? Or were all the bodies simply too ordinary? These weren’t soldiers, these were husbands. Musicians, village men that didn’t fight. Even if he could hardwire their brains to think for themselves in a more complete state, their first instinct would be to plead for their families rather than throw a hit towards a woman that they’d never know the cruelty of.

With an irritated grumble turned shout of frustration, he stood and stormed over to the dissection table, peering down disdainfully at the lifeless eyes of some poor bastard that couldn’t do anything more than just lie there and rot. He slammed his fists on the cold metal, looming over the body, voice sharp and accusing. “Hear me, or do I need to drill through that skull of yours a little more? You’re weak! Zu schwach! (Too weak!) What is it,” Hands grabbing the sides of the dead man’s face, his thumbs dug harshly into pale, waxy cheeks. “Are you afraid of being put to work? Or just trying to avoid dying for a cause? You gave out on me earlier. You did that, not me. It’s you that doesn’t believe in justice. In authentic retribution.” He squeezed until the eyes began to bulge. Only then did he give pause, easing his grip until they sunk back into place.

“I can’t work miracles on uncooperative corpses.” He muttered quietly, more so to himself than to his tormented listener. “I need muscle. Impressive men, not weak bodied boys.” Lifting a pen with a twirl of his finger and his magnetism, he directed it to write notes on paper as he talked aloud. “Send the Lycans to farms. Men that do real, honest work should have better durability. We’ll need to expand ground if we plan to have enough for me to work on. Start with one and see how it goes before collecting more.” He started pacing, running over possibilities and ideas on what needed to be done. When satisfied, he ran a hand through his hair and checked the time. Shit, it was midnight. He’d made an effort to be back in their quarters before 11pm for the last week or so in an effort to avoid worrying his husband. Of course, nothing was going to happen to him with it being his factory. But he knew how much (Reader) liked their newly established couples night routine of talking for a while before bed over mugs of herbal tea, and he’d just started getting used to it.

After cleaning the lab and disposing of the corpse, he flicked the lights off and made his way to their home. It was closed off from the rest of the factory but every bit as imperative to his operations. He couldn’t risk Mother Miranda trying to turn his husband. He wouldn’t wish that fate on anyone, much less someone that he genuinely loved. Knowing that (Reader) was here gave him both peace of mind and an even deeper drive to free them both from this Hell. The door opened and he stepped inside of the dark environment, removing his shoes and hanging his coat. Before meeting his husband, this was just another empty space filled with the monotony of his failed pet projects. Now, it felt full of life. There was a rug in the living room, an old beat up couch, and a functioning box tv. On top of that, there was even a plant in the corner that dominated its given space entirely. He’d come to embrace the hues of orange and yellow decorating the petals, coupled with healthy green leaves and stalks with roots that burrowed into rich dirt. Karl walked to the kitchen that he’d fitted into the expansive space and grabbed a glass, filling it with cold water and sipping on it. God knows he needed the hydration. Whiskey couldn’t keep him running forever.

The sound of the bed creaking from their room got his attention. “Herzblatt, (Sweetheart,)” He started, bare feet padding down the hall until he stood in the doorway, half-empty glass in hand. he'd expected to see his lover, but the sight of lit candles, the lights down low, a bottle of massage oil, and the attached bathroom glowing in a similarly candlelit hue made him raise a brow. “You put all this together for us? This late?” He came in fully and sat on the edge of the bed, picking up the bottle of massage oil and giving it a curious sniff after popping the cap. Sandalwood, something earthy and woody. He popped it closed again and set it back down on the bed, a few moments passing before he realized something. His lover had a robe on and that signature look that said he had something planned. Karl subtly hoped that it wasn't anything that required too much energy.

“For you, actually. I know how self care is hard to maintain when we're both busy, so.. I thought that now’s better than never.” A slight shrug as he got off of the bed, coming around to hold his hand out, wedding band glinting lightly in the low light. “Mainly because if I sprung this on you during the day, you’d turn the offer down and go back to working on your metal army. I didn’t want you to have to choose between a priority and a luxury. Not when you’re so overwhelmed most days that you can’t notice when your body needs a break. That’s what worries me, Karl.” He helped his husband up, squeezing that calloused hand that he loved so much with his own. Knowing that the other man had little to no breaks, both as a Lord and in his personal life, (Reader) often tried to help him relax. Though, most days, that was easier said than done. Still, he did what he could when he was able. And so far, that’s worked for them.

The bathroom was pleasant. Rustic off-white tiles with designs engraved into them, a large bath big enough for the both of them, and plenty of hot water to soak in. The lit candles provided a relaxing air of comfort, orange and yellow hues flickering across the walls and illuminating the space. Shadows danced across the sudsy water, casting both men in an intimate light. It started with a kiss, slow and unrushed. Despite the fact that he had already bathed and moisturized earlier, (Reader) almost wanted to forsake his plan just to feel him skin to skin. But, he knew that it’d have to wait. Between kisses and playful nips here and there, he helped his husband remove his clothing, knowing by now that Karl was more sore than he’d ever like to admit. With every item shed and discarded in the hamper nearby, he led him to the bath and watched him sink in. The gruff, quiet moan of relief didn’t pass him by. In fact, (Reader) even smiled. Sitting on the almost too slim rim of the tub, he rolled his sleeves back and made sure that they wouldn’t fall down. “Feels good?” He asked, heart squeezing tenderly when he saw just how much Karl had relaxed.

“Yeah.. it feels good.” He murmured, leaning back and sinking lower into the water. The dirt and grime from the day began to soak off of his skin and he started to scrub at his body, intending to be as clean as possible for the massage later. In his enthusiasm, he neglected to take into account what his lover had in mind, leading him to be thoroughly surprised when (Reader) moved to kneel beside the tub and meet him at face level. “Trying to sneak a kiss in before I get out?” He asked, half-teasing before he watched his husband dip both hands into the water, cup them, and bring water up before letting it run down his hair. The warmth encompassed his skull in the most pleasant way, a genuine shudder running through him. “Slow down,” He heard, spoken in that low, nurturing tone of voice that stole his breath away. “There’s no need to rush. Enjoy it, okay?” He nodded slowly, letting his husband guide him lower into the bath until he was lying down in the tub, knees poking out of the water by choice. While not fully submerged, his face above water, the sensation of his head being massaged and hair thoroughly washed made him feel like he was caught in the most tranquil haze. The water rushing around his ears, the darkness of the room soothing his mind, it felt like he was drowning in bliss.

When his husband stopped around five minutes later, however, it felt like that calm liquid bliss tried to dry up. He knew that there was more to come, but he knew that it wouldn’t be exactly like this. The hands on his head, the dark room and hot water soothing his body, or even the exact way that his lover was looking down at him. He reached up for his wrist, grasping it before catching himself and letting go. He wasn’t ashamed, he didn’t think that he could feel that anymore. No, he was flustered. Flustered that all it had taken for him to let his walls down entirely was a head massage and a bath. If Mother Miranda could see him now, she’d call him soft. But was it so bad to be soft with the ones that you wanted to see you act that way? Karl sat up and cleared his throat, ignoring how the water that sloshed around his body now sounded more disruptive than peaceful. His cheeks burned, a river of complexities flowing through his train of thought. This was his husband, and he couldn’t even let himself relax enough to enjoy the simple pleasure of being cared for. “I..” He started, unsure of where to start. Talking through it kept him from staying stagnant in his feelings. It was the least that he could offer. His honesty.

“I appreciate this. All of it, Herzblatt. (Sweetheart.) But I’m just.. Not used to it. Not yet.” He admitted, gaze set on him. God, he was sure that he looked pathetic. Like a sopping wet cat that had been left out in the rain too long. His fingers were wrinkly from the water now, but even so, he raised his hand to cup his husband’s cheek, continuing on. “You’ve been so patient with me. Dating and then marrying.. I bet that you imagined a pretty house on a hill where we could settle down. Not living in a factory full of half-dead soldiers and.. well, me.” He felt a lick of frustration at himself bubble up. What was he doing? Why was he unraveling now? Karl sighed. “Spent so much of my life in the act of doing that I never had time to slow down and appreciate what I got back.” A brief, worn chuckle. “Slowing down makes it sound easy. Like you have the time to catch up on what you missed. But before you know it, you’re struggling to even get the engine started, and all that you’ve got is shitty bits of scrap metal to fix what you don’t know how.”

A quiet exhale, an amalgamation of thoughts and words that he wanted to say attempting to spill over all at once. What he managed, though, said enough. “I want to be a good husband. But it’s times like these, times when I can’t relax and just.. let go of it all, the stress from the day and whatever else bullshit arises, that I feel like I’m dragging us down. Like I’m dragging you down.” He didn’t know what else to say- if there was even anything else to say. If he had his shades on, he could’ve hidden the way that his eyes glistened with a fresh wave of tears that wanted to spill. Here he was, laid bare and exposed like the very nerves that he picked and prodded at in his Soldats. Here he was, overwhelmed and tired all at once, needing his husband more than he ever could know how to express.

The quiet shared between them was suffocating, only broken up by the droplets running off from the tub faucet every few seconds. The monotony of it was broken when he heard him speak finally, coupled with tender hands cupping his scruffy cheeks. “You’re good to me as you are, Karl. That’s why I married you.” The sound that he made in response, halfway between a soft grunt of acknowledgment and a quiet whimper as he finally felt himself start to fall apart in his lover’s embrace, was beyond cathartic. The tears were joined by barely restrained trembles, hands moving to firmly grasp onto (Reader’s) robed arms, gripping the material with every new hitch in his breath or quiet plead for him to keep talking. And thankfully, his lover obliged, providing him the comfort that he never would have guessed that he needed. He held Karl tightly, stroked his hair, and murmured sweet nothings into his ear. Soft, tender kisses were placed onto every single tear without hesitation until they’d all been driven away.

The transition from bath to bedroom came fluently. When he found his peace again, sprawled out on their bed in the soothing candlelight, he allowed him to apply the massage oil. Busy hands worked at his biceps, forearms, hands, shoulders, pecs, and abdomen with particular efficiency. The pressure from (Reader) sitting on his hips throughout the entire process only created a buildup that was just within reach of being relieved. Rather than flip the position and manhandle his lover, grasping each calf and spreading them apart before hooking them up on his shoulders to go to town, he instead placed both hands on his husband’s hips and squeezed them gently. “Please,” He swallowed, the ache in his gut and cock growing almost too much to ignore. And if the way that (Reader) had started rocking his hips in a slight circular motion was anything to go by, then he had known what was going to be requested of him before Karl ever had to say anything. “Ride me. I need you on me, touching me,” He paused, cheeks reddening despite himself. “I- I want you to take control. I don’t want to do anything but let you take care of me, alright?”

The tender grin that his husband now had managed to ease his nerves. If Karl had it in him, he would've teased him about his eagerness. But after the day that he’d had and the emotions that he’d openly felt and expressed for the first time, he didn’t have the energy to come up with anything as clever as his typical material. Instead, he propped his arms up behind his head to help curve whatever urges he may have had to take control, fully cooperating with everything that his lover had in mind. And when the time finally came for them to be purely skin to skin, no robe in the way whatsoever, he felt elated. Hearty, passionate kisses were exchanged as he felt (Reader) guide his swollen cock to his already prepared entrance, which Karl should’ve known he’d done before setting this all up, before feeling him sink down. His hips started to rock up into his husband before he remembered to avoid taking control in any fashion, putting forth a genuine effort to embrace submissiveness.

As it turned out, he could get used to it. Watching his lover ride his cock in this light, with a controlled, seductive glint in his eye, it made his legs weak beneath him. He‘d switched from keeping his hands behind his head to gripping the sheets below to have something to stay grounded with, but when that wasn’t enough and his husband could catch on to his need for something more, he intertwined their fingers with both hands and pinned each of them to the bed. Something about that in particular made Karl's cock throb embarrassingly hard, his groans and grunts of pleasure growing louder. That was encouraged more when (Reader) leaned down, sucking marks into his jawline and neck, nipping at particularly sensitive spots. “Let me hear you.” A simple demand, spoken with no room for misinterpretation. Karl hadn’t known that he could moan so freely, or be so vocal without it feeling out of place. It felt good to let himself feel pleasure without thinking about it in the slightest, hands gripping his husband’s tighter as he grew closer to an orgasm.

His breath caught and hitched as he instinctively rocked his hips up again, trying to push his cock deeper inside of his lover’s addictive warmth. “You’re close, aren’t you?” He nodded and moaned, eyes squeezing shut as he tried to focus on not finishing too early. It didn’t matter the position or the role, he always wanted him to finish first. However, like this, he didn't know how long he could last. “Good, I’m getting there..” He heard the distinct sound of his lover stroking himself as the pace of his riding changed. Karl, for the first time, felt his back arch and his toes curl- his now free hand coming up immediately to slap over his mouth as he felt his orgasm start to hit. What sent him into overdrive was when (Reader) began to clench and spasm around him and moaned low, grinding his hips down harder. “Finish inside. That’s right, fill me up..”

That was all it took for him to finally give into the feeling. He barely stifled a whine, hips pumping up as he felt his husband shudder and groan above him before thick ropes of his own pleasure landed primarily in his own hand or on Karl’s abdomen. Cock throbbing as he emptied all that he had into (Reader), his body tensed down as the arousal slowly began to give way to both exhaustion and satisfaction. He looked up at him, catching his lover's debauched expression and grinned, knowing that he looked the exact same way, if not a little more flushed in the face. Tugging him down until they were stomach to stomach and face to face, he leaned up and kissed him deeply- indulging in the contact for what it was. Intimacy, closeness, and a deep feeling of newfound thrill in trying something so new and so exciting.

tysm for reading! if you'd like more, I've linked my ao3 below :3

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[staagzz]

Confessions Of A Rotten Soldier, Drink; NSFW IMAGINE; Older! Leon Kennedy x Older! Bartender! Male Reader

It wasn’t monotonous.

A whiskey on the rocks here or a shot of tequila there, sometimes broken up by a porn star martini or gold rush if his guests were feeling particularly adventurous on the evenings that he worked. Each night was comfortable, manageable chaos. The worst thing that could happen was running out of lemon wedges or napkins to wipe up the runoff from chilled glasses condensing. On the occasion that an unruly customer lost themselves in the alcohol, he had no issue dealing with them himself if the business was slow enough to manage. He may be older than when he first started bartending two decades ago, but he was far from being a pushover. The last thing on his mind was preserving far from dainty knuckles or calloused hands.

There was something reassuring about his regulars sticking up for him, though. Whether it was a unanimous act of shunning until the loudmouth felt too embarrassed to stay, or having sense being physically knocked into them, both were quite alright in his book. But, again, it wasn't a nightly occurrence. If he was younger, he might have mourned the loss of opportunity to do more than just pour drinks all night. Now, he was finding it more enjoyable to maintain his metaphorical four corners and tend to his guests. Admittedly, some more than others.

“I was wondering when you’d show up. One glass of Aerial Shot, neat, I take it?” He’d spent years watching that ash blond cut grow darker over time. Whether it was a sign of natural aging or Leon gradually giving up on his outward appearance wasn’t something that he cared enough about to differentiate. What he did know was that the man came in routinely at 8pm every night and left at 10pm once thoroughly buzzed. Sometimes, on a very rare occasion, he’d stay until the bar closed. Secretly, (Reader) believed that it was because the former officer wanted company.

“You know,” He started, purposely sliding the finished drink down the bar-top just to watch Leon’s quick reflexes kick into action. “I think it’ll be a slow night. More so than usual. Hard to believe that this part of town’s slowly getting less popular with the younger generation. Older establishments are a sign of quality that’s been maintained over the years, isn’t it?” The brief grunt in reply didn’t deter him. It wasn’t often that the other man wanted to engage in conversation after whatever he did all day, but when he did, it was always memorable.

Flitting between re-cleaning glasses and polishing nothing, he hummed along to whatever bits of music he could hear come from the crackling radio nearby. It was old, but the owner refused to give it up. Something about it being irreplaceable. “I don’t know how you can wear that jacket all night.” He spoke up an hour into their shared meeting. “The lights may be warm, but being under them for hours will have you sweating hotter than a pig in July.” This, finally, earned a quiet hum and a raised brow- a hint of something engaging finally gracing Leon’s features. “That’s.. a statement.” A slow sip on his second glass, savoring the taste before pulling it away to speak once more. “You know many pigs that come to the city in July?”

A slight roll of his eyes, the bartender shook his head. “Wish I did. I’d likely get money off at the butcher near my apartment if I brought my own meat. Or is that not how it works?” He watched Leon shrug and finish the rest of his drink before setting it down on the bar-top, signaling for a refill. The rest of the evening passed in a similar fashion, passing conversations that helped both men feel a little less alone. There was something to be said about the environment this time around when it was just the two of them, all warm lighting and soft music, coupled with a closeness that only years of this level of proximity could grant them. A quiet intimacy had become commonplace; stolen glances meeting the brief exchange of hand to hand contact when drinks were refilled and soon knocked back. This was how it went every night, and it’s exactly how he planned to spend his time in the evenings. That is, until Leon stopped coming.

The first day, he assumed it was due to work. The first week, he figured it was because of an important world-saving assignment that they’d banter about later. The first month, he extended that idea until it made him feel better. But when six months passed and the sunken bar seat to the far right of his body had started picking up dust, and that spot was never full of the warmth that he’d gotten used to having nearby, he couldn’t keep himself from worrying. ‘Maybe he quit drinking. Good for him.’ But what did that say about their time together? Had he just been a warm body and source of conversation? Had their talks been nothing more than something he’d become accustomed to? Had they been as one-sided as he feared?

‘No,’ He ran a hand down his face and sighed, swearing that he was picking up heavier eye bags. ‘Talking’s my bread and butter. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s providing company.’ He stood up straight, no longer hunched over the empty bartop. Most days, unless it was a rush period or gameday, there weren't nearly enough customers for him to feel satisfied. Not anymore. What’s worse, was that he felt his irritation start to spike from not knowing what was going on. It made his surroundings claustrophobic. How was he supposed to focus with a growing pit in his gut that felt more like an ulcer? Or worse, a piping, red hot cyst that was fit to burst.

The bead of sweat that rolled down the side of his head only reminded him of his other source of irritation. The lights. They were warm and beautiful, but he felt little want to put up with them when not entertaining any particular guests. It was a half hour until closing anyway, who was going to care if he flicked the lights off and set about cleaning early? Switching them off and exhaling a short sigh of relief, he got to work busying himself with monotonous tasks. Sweeping, wiping the bar-top clean, taking trash out, doing whatever he could think of.

For what it was worth, this was the most peaceful cleanup he’d done in the last couple of months. Perhaps, all he’d needed was a little darkness and quiet. But as he did next to nothing of no importance, radio humming lowly in the background, he felt a low tinge ebb in his heart. He’d never paid much attention to the actual music that played on it, but whatever song was playing, was the same one he’d been humming on the last night that he saw Leon. He didn’t know that something as small as that could hurt so much. He didn’t even know that his body would retain that kind of information when he wasn’t consciously thinking about it.

“I miss him, the old bastard.” Muttering under his breath as he finished up the last of his tasks in the back, he turned the lights off before picking up on something wrong. The lights in the bar were on. Hadn’t he turned them off? But as he looked at the small window towards the top of the door that separated the back with the main office and kitchen from the actual bar out front, he could see those warm lights shining through. The owner had long left, having gone home a few hours back. Grabbing a knife from the rack and holding it defensively, he took a deep breath before opening the door and peering through. What he saw made him almost drop the knife. There stood Leon, fixing himself a drink from behind the bar. His dark coat was stained with dried blood, if the splatters on his face, hands, and clothes were anything to go by. Upon closer observation, his hands were shaking. The knife was set down immediately as he opened the door, not caring about why he was back here or why he hadn’t come by for months, but rather whether he was okay or not.

“Hey, let me get that for you.” Stepping closer, he raised his hand and placed it lightly on the other man’s arm in an effort to coax him into handing over the new bottle of whiskey that he’d been trying to open. Instead, Leon gripped the bottle tighter and tensed- as if trying to will himself not to see (Reader) as a threat. The adrenaline in his blood spiked with even the slightest touch, but before he knew it, he was spilling words that he’d never meant to admit. “I didn’t know where else to go.” That didn’t make him feel better. If anything, it made him feel like some wounded dog that had come slinking back to its owner, hoping to be taken care of. He was close to shattering like the bottle of Aerial Shot that he’d nearly dropped on the floor before (Reader) had noticed he was here.

His breathing was anything but steady as he halfheartedly watched the bartender talk about something that sounded too far away to pick up. Before he knew it, the bottle had been wrenched out of his hand and he was sitting on a stool being cleaned off, no drink in sight. Doctor’s orders, he figured. And who was he to argue? He didn’t have the mental bandwidth to pitch a fight over alcohol. Not anymore, anyway. “Do you do this often? Clean tacky blood off of guys without freaking out because it isn’t theirs?” The bartender only made a soft sound of disapproval, as if it should be obvious that no, he never did this. “I can’t freak out and properly get you cleaned off at the same time. It’s already enough that this is the most that I’ve ever seen you undressed. Picking my priorities.”

It was true. Sitting there wearing just his pants, shirt and jacket off as the other man thoroughly inspected his body for any injuries or cuts, he could only let him fret over what he knew wouldn’t be the first or last set of bruises and cuts that he’d receive this month. Bioweapons didn’t slow down to let the people that dealt with them rest. “Besides,” (Reader) murmured, swiping a cotton ball over a wound that, as he felt the sting and winced, definitely belonged to him. “You’re not invincible. That jacket doesn’t protect you from everything, and more of this blood is yours than what you’d like to admit.”

Thankfully, the first aid kit had enough bandages and antiseptic to at least patch things up decently. That didn’t mean that Leon looked any less rough than from when he first walked in here. When he stood and rolled his shoulders, even he swore that he heard far too many joints crackle and pop to life. “Alright, alright. My mortality is duly noted.” A brief but attitudeless roll of his eyes. After a moment, Leon looked over, watching him pack the first aid kit up and put it where it belonged. Waiting explicitly for the moment that the other man met his eyes, only then did he say what was really on his mind beneath the quips and teasing remarks. “..Thank you, (Reader). I mean it.”

And it was standing there, beneath the warm glow of the once far too hot lights, that a silent realization passed over each of them both. They couldn’t do this again. Not like this, never like this. The not knowing of the other’s status, the lack of consistent conversation, the controlled environment that allowed them to feel normal when they very much weren’t. Leon couldn’t recall when the lights had been flicked off again. When their bodies met in a tense, desperate embrace. The feeling of hands flying over his skin, touching and squeezing tenderly at worn, well used muscles that had been utilized for far too much of the same bullshit over the years.

The contact of lips on skin only proved to be a warming balm on his aching body, coupled uniquely with the taste of their mixed saliva. The clink of glass shattering onto the floor behind him as he was pushed back against the bartop and encouraged to sit on top of it before his pants were unbuckled led to his breath catching in his now too-dry throat. Every kiss to his neck, every grope of his chest had him gripping (Reader) with every bit as much of sheer need and desire. He clung to him, distinctly aware of the impression any stranger would get from walking alongside the bar outside, only to peer inside and watch as two silhouettes moved intimately in sync- too intimately for the amount of tension they’d previously shared. Yet, he couldn’t be any more aroused by the idea.

(Reader’s) name was the first and only thing on his tongue, even as he could feel his mind going pleasantly blank from the warmth now surrounding his swollen length. The vision of (Reader) so diligently stroking what couldn’t quite fit, head working in tandem with every slight roll of Leon’s flexing hips, was a sight that he wasn’t able to risk missing. He moaned out quietly at first through the pleasure, only to start letting out sounds that he hadn’t ever made before be coaxed out of him. His dominant hand went down to settle on the back of (Reader’s) head as he helped guide them up and down at a specific rhythm that felt best, his own head finally tilting itself back to rest on his broad shoulders. His hips rocked a little quicker as his orgasm began to crest, white-hot ecstasy building in his gut before it finally crashed over him.

His thighs flexed and he instinctively wrapped his legs around their very upper half, intending to keep them close until he could fathom anything other than their mouth on his throbbing length. It wasn’t until after a few moments of sucking and swallowing that he noticed the fact that he’d barely gone even a little softer. He almost felt bad for being so relentlessly aroused until making out the distinct motion of (Reader) eagerly working his sex beneath him. He’d been so focused on his face and the sensation of his heat around him that he’d neglected to take into account how he might be getting himself off. Gently pulling the bartender off and gathering his thoughts, he spoke low, voice a throaty rasp. “Get your clothes off and bend over the middle booth’s table.”

Out of the three booths across from the bar, the middle was closest. Leon hardly thought he could even wait long enough to get (Reader) propped up on it. Though, that didn't seem to be a problem when he focused on him again, watching the man get up and undress as quickly as he could manage. Bent over the table, Leon hopped off of the bartop and walked over, bending right over him. Sucking and nipping marks into the backs of his shoulders, he murmured against the skin after placing a series of reverent kisses to the surface. “You got yourself nice and ready for me, didn’t you, handsome? So thoughtful.”

The next couple of minutes were a blur. He’d used his fingers to further prepare him, all whilst muttering praises and encouragements to get him closer. Only when neither of them could take it anymore, did he spit into his hand and stroke his throbbing cock before guiding it inside. The groan he gave was nothing compared to the bartender, and so he became dead set on fucking more noises out of him. Leon’s hips pumped them closer with each enthusiastic clap of groin to ass meeting, arms firmly encircling the squirming body beneath him to keep (Reader) from moving away from between his body and the table, keeping him pinned there.

He moaned low into his ear and then buried his face into the crook of (Reader’s) neck, angling his hips until hearing the noises that he wanted most. It was overwhelming in the best way, and it felt like there was no way that it’d end without them both being satisfied. “I needed you the moment that I saw you tonight.” He admitted, rushed between each sloppy kiss to the bartender’s neck. “And the last time that we met. Didn’t know how to tell you I’d be gone for a while. Didn’t think that I’d be coming back.”

He held onto him tighter, no different than a lifeline. He bit into (Reader’s) shoulder, intent on leaving him with evidence of tonight, if nothing else. God forbid if nothing else. “But I’m here. I’m not leaving you again. Not now. Never now.” His hips lost rhythm as he got closer to his release, a hand snaking down to quickly stroke at his lover’s sex. “I’m getting close. Tell me you are too, (Reader). Need to feel you squeeze me tight and never let me go.” He groaned, hips pumping quicker as he ignored the things that tipped over on the table and dropped onto the booth seats. “Gonna- hah, fuck- make you mine. All mine.” With a guttural groan, he felt himself let go, slamming home for the final time and finishing inside.

His pants were harsh, even as he placed deceptively tender kisses to now bruised and marked up flesh. Almost apologetically, he started to loosen his grip, at least until (Reader) internally flexed and clenched tightly around him. Breathlessly, Leon chuckled, shallowly starting to rock his hips. “I guess that’s one way to ask for round two.”

tysm for reading! if you'd like more, I've linked my ao3 below :3

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