#hopefully you find something you’re looking for on this list!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fanaticsnail · 5 months

Text

You're Angry at the Tall Men

Masterlist Here

I have two very dear mutual creators on here that are struggling with the flu. Hopefully yelling at the tall men of one-piece will help you both out: @feral-artistry & @sordidmusings

Word Count: 200-400 per gentleman: Buggy, Shanks, Mihawk, Sir Crocodile, Corazon, Doflamingo

Warnings: anger, violence, suggestive spice for a few, angst, afab!implied but not overly mentioned, height difference.

First time writing for Cora, Croc and Doffy - mainly going off small clips and overall vibes. Apologies if I didn't do your blorbo justice.

(Apprehensive tag list: @gingernut1314, @writingmysanity)

He knows what he did to earn your wrath; your fury ignited in your eyes and the flames physically tangible and searing the room with your scorn. Your brow was furrowed, your lips curling into a snarl to bare your pearled teeth at him.

Buggy: 6’3

“Sit your tall ass down!” you roared at him. The clown shrieked back, immediately reaching his stuttering hands towards the back of a chair to unceremoniously fall back onto the wooden base. Unfortunately, as his ass barely grazes the base; his weight proceeds to fall from its intended target, plopping down onto the cement ground instead of finding comfort on the chair.

“Ah, fuck!” he cried out alongside his wince, his red nose creased as he felt the pain shoot up his coxic bone and tingle up his spine. This moment of failure breaking a small crack in your iron fury, a giggle attempting to break through your anger. He winces his beautiful teal eyes up at you, cringing through the pain and gritting his teeth in an attempt of a smile.

“You are so pathetic,” you growled at him, extending your hand out and collecting his chin within your thumb and index finger. You were held captive by his sparkling eyes beneath his lengthy blue eyelashes as he looked up at you in awe.

“It’s why you love me, right?” he whimpered at you, his crooked smile drawing you in closer to him. You stooped, pressing a small kiss against his rotund, red nose.

“Yes,” you again growled at him, pouting with your brow falling low in the center of your forehead, “but I’m still angry at you.”

“I know,” he grumbled in response, his eyes upturning and almost pleading, “but I can fix that, right?”

Shanks: 6’6

“Woah, woah, love!” he cried out, backing away from your approach with his wide smile plastered to his cheeks. He was still smiling, even when you backed him against the wall with your forearm horizontally pressing him back into the wooden banister behind him.

“You absolute stupid, ridiculous, drunken-,” one look into his loving eyes rendered you immediately defenseless to his aura. He looked at you with such love, his brown eyes holding only softness and adoration within them. He brings up his arm, choosing to caress your cheek and lace a loose strand of your hair to hook over your cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into you, leaning his head down and moving his lips against your forehead to murmur into your skin, “forgive me, I didn’t mean it.” Inhaling a deep breath, you feel the rage falling away from you as he continued murmuring sweet nothings into your ear.

“You’re so beautiful when you’re angry,” he breathed his raspy voice into your ear.

“And you’re so handsome when you’re not the one making me angry,” you growled back at him.

Mihawk 6’6

“Mihawk!” your rumbled growl echoed in the high ceilings lifting the light in the large dining room. He was stooping, fingertips halting their descent to grasp the back of his dining chair. He huffed out a sigh, rotating his neck and removing his hat from his head. He placed the hat on his dining setting, and prepared himself to receive your wrath.

As soon as you saw him preparing himself to receive the scorn you were about to bear down on him, you decided to switch it up. Something about how smug he was did not satiate your fire from erupting further. You had every intention of taking him by his wrist and leading him to the impressive steps of the foyer and taking a few steps up to bring you to the appropriate height to maintain eye contact as you reprimanded him.

But his ear was right there, no longer shielded by his broad hat to halt your action. Immediately, you pressed your index and middle finger against the overly sensitive shell of his ear and began dragging him towards the archway leading to the foyer.

“Not quite so hard, dear,” he winced as his steps stuttered behind you. You allowed a sinister smirk to rise on your lips, gaining a sickening amount of joy from knowing you were paining him a little to satisfy your wrath. As your feet found the steps, you relinquished your hold on his ear and turned to face him, your eyes first glancing at the raven curls atop his head that you rarely are accustomed to seeing these days. His head was bowed, his hand drawn up to cradle his ear and sooth over the throbbing shell. At this, your anger ceased and you immediately sought out his eyes by cupping his cheeks and elevating his face.

“I’m sorry, my love. Did I hurt you, are you okay?” you hastily spoke, eyes checking over his face for any semblance of hurt or pain.

“Only my pride, dear,” he replied in a soft grumble, continuing to keep his eyes from joining with your own. You sighed in relief before shaking your head to remind yourself why you brought him here in the first place. You furrowed your brow and slunk your hands from his cheeks to fall them against his chest.

“I’m-,” you began, your angry words halted by Mihawk taking a step forward and pressing his forehead against your own.

“-I’m sorry. Forgive me,” he whispered into your face, his eyes half lidded and sorrow falling over his face, “I never meant to hurt you, and I’m willing to spend all the time it takes to make it up to you.”

Sir Crocodile 8’3

Clutching his cigar in his index and middle fingers, he flicked the ash into the glass and gold tray on his desk. He could hear the fall of your feet outside the door, his jaw falling slack in bored frustration.

“You devious bastard,” you growled as the door to his office flung open. He inhaled deeply, reaching into his desk drawer and pulling out another cigar to clench his teeth onto. As your eyes met, his brow arched while his eyelids hung half-lidded. He sat back against his armchair and uncrossed his legs from their join of the knees. Remaining wordless, he fished around in his pants for his lighter, to find nothing but his golden pocket watch and a few rolls of berry within his leatherbound wallet.

“Be a dear and find me a light,” he dismissed your anger with the wave of his hand as his eyes searched his desk for his capped lighter. This seemed to engage your fury further, making you immediately lunge at him and crawl onto his lap. You drew your claw-shaped grip up to his jaw, snarling into his face as you did so.

“You think I care about your lighter right now, you arrogant lizard,” you spat at him. His eyes widened in surprise, initially being taken off guard by your presence atop his thigh. Immediately after processing the shock, his eyes darkened as he used his large, golden hook to circle around your thigh; trapping it within the metal and drawing it closer into him. Your kneeling position atop his lap was now made ever more dangerous than it had been, not knowing how he would truly respond to your anger. Both of your tempers began to flare as he snarled at you.

“Lighter first,” he growled at you, looking up into your enraged eyes as your hair cascaded down over his face, draped almost intimately over his forehead. You scoffed, flicking the hair over your shoulder and grimaced at him in response.

“And why should I do that after what you did?” you gnashed your teeth, baring your rage in your now untested situation. The tense air now growing thick and dense as your bodies pressed closer together. He gripped your hips with his hand, his golden hook scraping over your thigh and placing your knee over his waist as he drew you closer.

“Lighter first,” he began to snarl at you, “or I will channel your rage in another way.”

“Try me, Reptile,” you snarled at him, clenching your teeth as you stooped lower into his face. He immediately stood, his tall body hoisting you up against his hips and slamming your back atop his desk. He hovered over your body, leaning his face down and snarling into you,

“You should’ve just done what you were told,” He growled into your neck.

“You shouldn't have pissed me off,” you gnashed your teeth once more, your eyes widening as you felt his teeth bite down hard on your clavicle, soothing over the new injury with his tongue.

Corazon 9’7

“Donquixote Rosinante!” you shouted, walking around the halls and tracking the stupor of his step. You immediately heard a thud, followed by several crashing booms reverberating within the hallway. None of these sounds halted your descent, your rage and fury propelling your steps further towards him.

When your eyes fell over his body, he was hoisting himself up from his entanglement with several cleaning products; a mop over his head and a bucket circling over his left foot. He looked ridiculous, his coat hanging limply from his shoulders over his open heart-stitched shirt.

As he rose to his feet, you were taken aback at how truly tall he was; his body towering over your own. You lost your nerve slightly at his stature, but still the edges of your body remained singed with the fires of rage within your soul.

“Cora-!” your words were halted by the man drawing such anger from you wordlessly holding up his palm to silence you. Your brows fell further down your face, your frown deepening as you watched him silently search his surroundings. His eyes widened first, before softening as he stooped down to collect the bucket that was once wrapped around his foot. He blew over the base of the bucket with a small puff of breath, placing the brim on the ground and dusting the base with the back of his hand.

He turned his painted face up to you, a tight smile pulling at his mouth as he extended his hand to you. You sucked in a breath through your nostrils, pouting as you took his hand. Stepping up onto the bucket, you still remained short to his great height. Still holding onto your hand, his smile softened as he bent at the knees to crouch in front of you, looking up into your face with eyes baring great sorrow at how angry you were with him.

Relinquishing the hold against your hand, he gestured for you to bare your soul out to him with a simple swipe of his hands. He was so willing to have you share your emotions with him, it almost made you want to cry with frustration at how truly loving he was to you.

“You’re just going to sit back and take it? Say something, Cora. Anything!” You screamed, the sting of tears beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes. He continued to watch on, never once rising from his crouch, nor bringing his eyes away from searching your face. It was only when a hot, frustrated tear fell from your eye down your cheek that he rose up to his full size once more.

He wordlessly drew his palm up to claim your cheek, his thumb brushing the tear away from its descent down towards your mouth.

“Please,” you whimpered while searching his eyes, “please say something.”

He leant forward, pressing his forehead against yours and closing his eyes, circling the other arm around your shoulders and holding your chest flush with his own. His lips found the crown of your head, pressing a soft and careful kiss against the top of your hair.

“Calm,” he uttered, the room circled around him by the spark of his devil-fruit power. You looked at him confused, your nostrils flaring at him while still expressing your anger.

“Why use the devil-fruit powers now?” you asked him, shaking your head at him as all else in the hallway was silenced. No taps of feet, no drips of taps, nor the sounds of breeze through the trees outside the room could be heard within the silent barrier.

“Because I want everyone to know how angry you are with me,” he uttered, his nose lovingly brushing against your own, “And I want to be able to scream how much I love you with no consequence.” He pressed his lips against your forehead, smearing his red face paint against your skin as he trailed a flurry of gentle kisses against your nose, cheek bones and the corner of your lips in an attempt to smother the flames of your anger.

“This doesn’t make up for what you did,” you spat at him, your narrowed eyes looking at him through your eyelashes remaining dark with fury.

“I know,” he admitted, unwrapping his arm from circling your shoulders. He grazed his arm down and collected your hand once more within his, lacing your fingers together as he uttered, “I’m so sorry, my darling. I’ll never do it again.”

Doflamingo 10’

He was immediately expressing joy at how riled up he had managed to make you, his lips curling back into a sinister smile. He darted his tongue out over his mouth to dampen his chapped lip before he allowed a rumbly chuckle to exit from his chest.

“Doflamingo!” You screamed, rage and fury overcasting your usual stoic state with their venom. He rose to his feet and was almost bursting at the seams with how happy getting a rise from you was making him.

“How dare you?! How dare you do that to me?!” You roared, not halting your approach in any way. He towered over you, his lanky build condescendingly casting his feathered silhouette over your body.

“I don’t give a fuck,” he shrugged, speaking quickly with a broad grin continuing to polish his cheeks. His eyes remained hidden by his glasses, your own eyes beginning to prick at the corners with a frustrated rage.

“Wipe that horrible grin off your face before I rip it off,” you spat, your hands demonstrating how truly violent your thoughts were.

“Only if you do it with your teeth, Princess,” he bore his teeth down at you. His smile widened further up his cheeks, your urge to claw out his eyes not satisfied in the slightest. You impulsively swung your hand at his face, your wrist caught within his circled grip. His laughter erupted over his chest at this small demonstration of violence, so easily stifled by his hands.

“Ohh, you’ve got some fire in you today,” he chucked his taunt at you, leaning down further into you; his nose almost brushing against your own with how close he drew himself down to you, “What I’d give to see that demonstrated with your body wrapped around my- AHH.” You halted his words within his mouth by clamping your teeth down against his nose hard enough to draw blood. After tasting the metallic flavor roll over your tongue, you withdrew your teeth from his flesh and bore your red-tinted lips at him.

He reached up to clutch the scruff of your neck, pulling you closer into him and purring a roar of his own into you:

“Mmm, Harder.”

#one piece #one piece live action #x reader #buggy #shanks #mihawk #sir crocodile #donquixote rosinante #donquixote doflamingo #corazon x reader #rosinante x reader #doflamingo x reader #mihawk x reader #shanks x reader #buggy x reader #sir crocodile x reader #One piece drabble #sea-dilf drabble #sea dilfs of one piece

2K notes · View notes

darkbluekies · 1 month

Text

GOLDEN TRIAL

Yandere!mafia x yandere!female!mafia x female!yandere x yandere!king x yandere!doctor x male!detective!reader

Summary: Its 1935 and you've been sent on the Liner Normandie to retrieve a stolen painting. You have six suspects and the clock is ticking — you only have four days before the ship reaches New York to find it. But soon, you find yourself caught up in something even more serious than you could have believed.

Warnings: getting hit in the head with a bottle, kidnapping, mentions of drugging, stalker behavior, light misogyny(?), guns, needles, violence

Word count: 11.7k

DAY 1 — Debark

The ship towers over you like a mad giant. Gray smoke rises from the two forward funnels. It’s the biggest in the world, bigger than any man made object that can float. You shake your head. Focus. You’re not here for pleasure. You continue your way over to the terminal. The agency sent you in hopes of finding the lost painting, no one else. You need to stay focused, they’re counting on you.

Without questioning, you give the fake ID to the man behind the desk. When you had started out as an agent, you were always nervous that your covers would be blown and you would be found out. Nowadays, you’ve noticed that if you look nervous, risk are that you’ll be asked questions.

You walk over the gangway with your bag in hand. You have just above four days to find the painting — a very famous portrait of a woman with her head slightly turned to the viewer, wearing a big, blank pearl earring. It was stolen from the Mauritshuis in the Netherlands two weeks ago, and details have revealed that it has been taken to France, and will be moved to America on the SS Normandie. The painting itself isn’t insanely big, but the fuss about it’s disappearance is. You have to find it at all cost.

Before you got here, you had time to take a look at the passenger list. There are six people you recognise, where of five could be your potential smugglers.

Silas Achilleos, a mob boss wanted by the police, and his second in command. A man like him was probably not interested in paintings, but he could have clients who did. And those could pay him heaps of money.

Edmund of Vesanus, a young king who likes the bachelor life. He surrounds himself with loads of women and alcohol, partying like nothing matters. He would take the painting because he doesn’t want anyone else to have it. He’s traveling with his doctor, a certain Karl Kry who you don’t know much about.

Hedwig Carter, a young heiress who’s father is noble, and who's mother is famous in the acting business is traveling with a young woman named Jerry Kim, someone you guess is Hedwig’s chaperone. Hedwig is known for getting whatever she wants with a snap of her fingers, and if she wants a painting … she will get it. Jerry, however, does not have much information out in the open. Everything about her before she started to work for Hedwig is wiped away. You want to know who she is and where she comes from, and what she would want a painting for.

You walk down the stairs to your cabin on A-deck and start to pack up, using the second bed in the room to store your bag. After settling in, you decide to take a look around this magnificent vessel to get familiar with it. You make your way up to the promenade deck and give the open cinema by the stairs a quick look. You guess that they’re going to put on movies once the ship reaches open water. If you’re lucky you’ll see something interesting. And hopefully, you have the time to watch it.

The promenade is enclosed decorated with a gray floor, comfortable deck chairs and clear windows. A line in the tricolor fashion runs along the floor, as if to show where to walk. You walk on the line, flashing a little childish smile. You’ve left Le Havre and are on your way out towards the Atlantic’s open arms. The clock is ticking.

Your eyes lock onto someone walking towards you and you immediately realize that it is Hedwig and her chaperone, an east asian girl … wearing pants and a long sleeved shirt. You don’t realize how obvious it is that you’re staring until the woman opens her mouth and you realize that they’ve stopped right in front of you.

“What are you staring at, sir?” she asks, raising her eyebrows and putting her hands in her pockets. “If you want to say something, do it.”

“No—no, sorry”, you say quickly, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I didn’t mean to stare.”

“Tell me, do you approve of women who wear pants?”

It sure looks weird, but is it? When you think about it, aren't pants just pieces of the same fabric as skirts, just sewn differently?

“Uh, I … suppose so.”

To that, Jerry nods approvingly.

“I don’t see why only men should wear pants”, she says.

“Well, I don't feel comfortable wearing them”, Hedwig chuckles nervously and smiles softly. “But they fit you, Jerry. They really do.”

“You must be miss Carter”, you say, as if you don't know, and shake her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, please call me Hedwig! Who are you?”

“I’m Axel Ainsworth, I'm in the art industry.”

Hedwig’s smile widens. “That is very interesting, I love art. Especially portraits. Capturing humanity’s differences and details are magical. Don’t you think so, Jerry?”

“I’m more for that new thing — surrealism, I think it’s called — where everything is here and there and weird to believe”, Jerry says, shrugging. “But portraits can be okay too, depending on what type.”

Hedwig has turned her eyes to you, glued them onto you as if you are the only thing she could ever see. “Are you traveling alone, mister Ainsworth?” she asks.

You have remembered your entire forged background and learned it skillfully. Even your fake name rolls off the tongue as smoothly as if it was your real name. You're traveling alone because you're on your way home to your fiancé from a business trip.

“I see”, Hedwig smiles and turns to the woman next to her. “Let me introduce you to my chaperone, miss Jerry Kim. You're always welcome to sit with us during dinner. We'd be more than happy to accompany you.”

“I'm grateful to know that, miss.”

With that said, the two women walk away. You frown and sigh. Hedwig seems like a very sweet young woman, it’d be a shame if it was her who was the culprit. Her chaperone, on the other hand, gives you weird vibes. Something about the look in her eyes … as if she’s looking right through you, scanning you.

You continue down the promenade until you turn into the Winter Garden, a half moon-shaped room full of plants and lamps and big, wide windows, overlooking the special shaped bow that has given Normandie the speed it has. Passengers have already started gathering in the Winter Garden to talk to friends and family and watch how Normandie makes her way out onto the Atlantic. None of them resembles the men you’re looking for. You continue your way through the ship, eventually finding yourself in the smoking room on the embarkment deck, where you had stepped onto the ship. You had only glanced at the room before, but now when you’re standing in the smoking room — and very well the lounge since they’re connected — you realize how stupid you must have been to miss it. There must be ten meters up to the ceiling, you think, and bigger than a concert hall. A long, grey staircase leads up to the outside deck. The art deco interior is modern and sleek, but the whip overall has a classic, conservative design that reminds you of the great liners of the old age. You sigh while thinking of the Mauretania and the Olympic, Britain's biggest rivals which now are laid up in Jarrowtown, side by side, ready to be scrapped. There’s something melancholy about it all, and at the same time something beautiful, starting as enemies and now ending it all under the same flag, together.

You shake your head. Focus. Your eyes catch someone standing by the windows, someone very familiar. Silas and his right hand man. You move closer, trying to hear what they’re talking about.

“I’m not complaining, I just think that it is annoying that it has to take four days to get to America”, Silas mutters and takes a whiff off his cigar.

“Any other ship would take double the time, sir”, his second in command says apologetically. “I doublechecked.”

“I don’t like being in one place for too long.”

“See it as a vacation. You’re deserving of it. Let’s enjoy some good food, alcohol and some company. It’ll do you good.”

“I don’t like to be in one place too long. Especially when we know that they're on board!”

You furrow your brows. Who?

“Nothing will happen.”

Silas hums and smokes again. You’ve stood by the windows a few meters away, pretending to be interested in the horizon. Silas turns his eyes to you.

“You, sir”, he says, pointing at you with his cigar.

You look away from the ocean. Both Silas and his second in command have turned to you, their dark eyes looking right at you.

“Yes?” you ask.

“Is it true that the Normandie keeps her speed?” Silas asks. “No matter the weather?”

“I believe so, sir.”

Silas nods in satisfaction. “Good.”

You decide to try to get some information out of him. You know who he is, but he doesn’t know who you are, doesn’t know that you’re out to get him. To him, you’re just another first class passenger.

“Are you in a hurry?” you wonder.

“You could say that”, Silas sighs and turns his eyes out the window again.

You hold out your hand. “I’m Axel Ainsworth.”

Silas second in command gives him a short look before his boss shakes your hand. His grip is hard, firm.

“You can call me Silas”, he says. “No need for a surname.” He takes another blow on the cigar. “What brings you out on the ocean like this?”

“I’ve been on a business trip, but now I’m going home to my fiancé”, you say, pretending to smile at the thought of your made up fiancé.

“What business are you in?”

“Art.”

Silas lifts one of black his eyebrows. “Art?”

His second in command straightens his back.

“Yes, sir”, you say.

“Are you a … painter?” Silas wonders.

“God no, I can’t handle a brush even if my life depended on it. I’m an art trader, I help people sell their paintings for the right price.”

“I see. Well, one can’t do everything.” He blows a cloud of smoke. “Have you traveled on this ship before, Axel?”

“No, it’s my first time. But I’m not unfamiliar with the ocean, I used to travel a lot on the older ships in my younger days.”

“Then I suppose you have a favorite?”

You think for a second. “I did like that Cunarder, the Lusitania … such a shame Germany sunk it.”

“You never know which ships are safe or not, just look at that Titanic fiasco. They thought it was the safest ship afloat. Yeah, sure it was.” Silas shrugs. “Wouldn’t surprise if this peace of junk also sinks. Why wouldn’t it?”

“Well …”

Silas’s second in command taps him on the shoulder and whispers something in his ear. Silas frowns and nods before turning to you.

“It was nice speaking with you, but I have some business to deal with”, he says shortly.

“Have a good day”, you say.

Silas nods politely and leaves. You follow him and his second in command with your eyes until they’ve left the smoking room. He was nicer than you had anticipated.

Your next suspect, you find in the dining hall that evening. You’ve met up with Hedwig and Jerry in the reception. Hedwig is wearing a pink evening gown with pink gloves. Her honey blonde hair is curled and put up with hairpins. Jerry is wearing a dark purple, sleeveless dress, showing a couple tattoos. In her short, black hair, there’s a little decoration that reminds you of a flower. She's wearing dark lipstick, in contrast to Hedwig who wears a Hollywood red.

“They wouldn’t let me in unless I dressed ladylike”, she mutters.

“I think that you look gorgeous, Jerry”, Hedwig smiles and takes her hand.

“I guess that it isn’t that bad.”

“I like your tattoos”, you say. “Where did you get them from?”

“A tattoo artist, of course.” She then twists her arm to show something on the inner side of her bicep. “Okay, I made this one myself.”

You step closer, seeing a small heart tattooed on her arm.

“That’s cute”, you smile.

“Thank you”, Jerry smiles smugly. “Hurts like hell though.”

“I can imagine.”

The stewards allow you into the dining room and — for what feels like the thousand time today — you’re amazed by the interior. Silver walls with golden ceiling and art decor wherever you could see. In the middle of the long dining hall, there’s a gigantic, golden statue of a woman.

Hedwig and Jerry leads you to a table and sit down. That’s when you see your last suspects. They’re walking through the dining hall, dressed in tuxedos. The king can’t be more than twenty years old. His doctor is a minimum of fifteen years older.

“You son of a bitch”, he says suddenly and looks at the table you’re sitting at. “Hedwig?”

Hedwig’s eyes widen in shock.

“Edmund, what are you doing here?” she asks with a smile. “Sit with us, please.”

The king and his doctor sit down at your table.

“Good evening”, the blonde doctor says and shakes yours and Jerry's hand before introducing himself. “I’m Doctor Kry.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Axel Ainsworth”, you say.

“This is king Edmund.”

You’re about to shake his hand, but Doctor Kry removes your hand.

“I’m sorry, but he doesn’t shake people’s hands”, he whispers.

“Oh, I see”, you say.

The king gives you a bored look.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, your majesty”, you tell him politely.

“How do you know Hedwig?” he asks shortly. “I haven’t seen you before.”

“We met today”, Hedwig smiles. “Axel, Edmund is my relative. It’s been months since we last saw each other.”

“I’ve told you to visit.”

“I know.”

“Are you that much of a hypochondriac that you need a doctor to accompany you while you’re traveling?” Jerry chuckles.

“What are you doing here, Jerry?” Edmund mutters coldly.

“She’s my chaperone”, Hedwig explains.

“Oh fuck me.”

“Your majesty, maybe you should think about your language”, Doctor Kry says. “We are around others.”

Edmund rolls his eyes before looking at you in a bored manner.

“Tell me”, he says, “where do you come from, mister Ainsworth?”

You ramble your rehearsed background. Edmund nods along with you.

“I’ve always wanted to visit that place”, Doctor Kry says. “I’ve heard that it is a beautiful city.”

“It is”, you say.

“And now you’re going to America”, Edmund says. “What were you doing in France?”

“I was on a business trip.”

“What type?”

It strikes you as odd. He doesn’t sound interested, but still he asks you curious questions.

“I’m in the art business”, you say.

“What for?” Edmund wonders.

“Art is beautiful and should be getting what it is worth.”

“I like art”, Doctor Kry. “I would do anything to see the Mona Lisa.”

“Why didn’t you visit it when you were in France?” Hedwig wonders.

“We didn’t have time … Edmund didn’t want to go there.”

“Why should I squash together with other people to see paintings?” Edmund scoffs. “If I want to see a painting, I get it for myself. That’s that.”

“But do you like art, your majesty?” you ask.

“Everyone likes art”, Edmund replies nonchalantly. “That’s what gives life meaning.”

“Have you read a certain story, Edmund, called ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’?” Jerry asks with a teasing smile. “Thought that it’d fit you.”

The story is about a man who wants nothing more than to remain youthful … to the point where he has a painting of himself where all of his sins can be seen. In the end, the picture is as gruesome as can be, but Dorian himself is as youthful as he started.

“Oh, shut up, Jerry”, Edmund mutters angrily. “One day, I’ll teach you manners, believe me.”

Jerry smirks.

You eat dinner together with the young king and the doctor. Afterward, to soothe your aching stomach, the five of you walk up to the outside promenade deck to get some fresh air. You strut under the lifeboats, under the stars. Above you, a big luminous sign spells out the name 'NORMANDIE’, casting a soft light on you. Doctor Kry has lent his blazer to Hedwig, and you’ve tried to offer yours to Jerry who refused before you had the time to open your mouth.

“Ladies, I think it’s time for you to retreat”, Edmund says, sounding sweeter than before. “It’s starting to get late.”

“The evening is young”, Jerry insists.

“I’m tired”, Hedwig yawns.

“Jerry, be a good girl and bring Hedwig to your cabin”, Edmund grits. “Please. I’m not fighting with you again.”

Jerry rolls her eyes, removes the doctor’s blazer and tells you goodnight. Hedwig gives you and Edmund a hug. Her flowery perfume clogs up your nose, dulls your head for a moment. The three of you wish the girls a pleasant evening and continue walking.

“Hedwig is a stupid girl”, Edmund says, strolling slowly. “One can’t help but want to take care of her.”

“She seems very sweet”, you admit.

“She is. Just very naive. I’ve promised her father that I’m going to take care of her whenever I meet her.”

“Her chaperone is … interesting”, Doctor Kry remarks.

“God, yes, I hate her!”

“What is it about her that you don’t like?” you ask curiously.

“I do not like girls like her. Did you see her tattoos? She often walks around in man’s clothing and I don’t think it’s fitting for a woman — especially someone that is close to my relative. I don’t want her influencing Hedwig.”

“I don’t think you have to worry, your majesty”, Doctor Kry says calmly. “I think Hedwig is going to be okay.”

“If there’s one thing I’m glad for, it is that Hedwig is predictable.” He groans. “I need a cigar. Let’s go to the smoking room.” Edmund turns around to give you a look. “Axel, are you joining?”

“I don’t know”, you reply. “It’s the first day, I’m still tired from embarking.”

“Don’t tell me that you’re going to bed now.” He looks at his expensive watch. “The clock is ten. Stay one hour.”

You give up and follow them to the smoking room. Maybe it is for the best. If you want to get close to them, you’ll need to spend as much time observing them as you can.

Sitting with them in the smoking room, you find that Silas and his second in command aren't here among the other men. You frown, thinking that they would be here since they were earlier.

When you’re allowed to leave, two hours later, your mind is fogged up by smoke and whiskey. You make your way through the empty corridors to your cabin, closing and locking it behind you. Tiredly, you sink down on your bed and sigh out. You have observed them, and talked with them the entire day, and yet you haven’t figured out who could be hiding the painting. They all seem interested in art. They all could have taken it.

There's so many questions. What kind of doctor is Kry? Where did Jerry come from and why is there no information about her? Why would someone like Hedwig hire her as her chaperone? And who is that person that Silas doesn't want on board? Is there someone you haven't accounted for, someone else that can have stolen the painting?

You hide your face in your hands and groan. Three days left.

DAY 2 — Sea

You wake up early, get ready and head out into the corridor. You lock the cabin door behind you, feeling the handle to make sure that it is locked and make your way to the Winter Garden to have a cup of coffee. The large windows give you a wide view of the calm ocean. The sun rises up from the blue water in a magical sense that has you hypnotized. It's all so very quiet and relaxing.

After your cup of coffee, you stretch your muscles, and contemplate going down to the swimming pool to take a few laps, to warm up your muscles and clear your head for the day's work. You pay the purser and make your way down to the swimming pool on D deck. The tile walls are covered with art that reminds you of ancient Greece and the new, abstract type of paint. The pool itself was formed as a long rectangle with curved corners, green steel ladders, and a steep and a shallow part. Throughout the shallow part, there were thick, dull spikes, likely to stop children from going out into the deep end.

Despite being the early hours of the first morning on board, someone is already in the water. Doctor Kry.

“Good morning”, he says. “You’re up early.”

“So are you”, you reply.

“I always need to clear my head before starting the day.”

“What about the king? Is he swimming too?”

“Don't kid around. He doesn’t wake up until nine. I wouldn’t be able to get him out of bed before that anyways. He’s a very deep sleeper and hates getting woken up.”

You feel your heart skip a beat.

“Where do you have your cabin?” you ask.

“On the promenade deck, one of the suites. A-54.”

Bingo.

“Why do you ask?” Doctor Kry wonders.

“I was just thinking that since the king doesn't want to be disturbed, choosing the right cabin place is important.”

“Did we choose a good cabin then?”

You nod, despite not knowing a single thing about cabin placements. The only thing you're aware of is to be as far away from the noisy engine room as possible.

Perhaps if you asked the purser, you could get the number of the other cabins. He, if anyone, should have the passenger list.

You glance back at Doctor Kry who's still hanging by the side of the pool. This is your time to investigate him. You slowly get into the water.

“Such a shame that you didn't get to visit the Mona Lisa”, you say as you start to swim. “It's a very pretty painting.”

“So I've heard”, Doctor Kry says slowly.

“My favorite painting is ‘the girl with the pearl earrings’, have you had the opportunity to see it?”

He's quiet for a second.

“I haven't”, he says, sounding low. “I guess that, an art trader like you, must be troubled by its disappearance.”

“Of course”, you answer.

At this point, a detective and an art trader don't seem like different things, especially since both would be looking for the same thing.

“Can I ask you something?” you wonder.

“It depends”, Doctor Kry says. “Go ahead.”

“Forgive me for being nosy, but why doesn't his majesty like Jerry?”

“He is very old fashioned. He doesn't think that women should be dressed in pants or have tattoos. Edmund is very self centered, yes, but he's also very possessive of the ones he holds dear — example being miss Hedwig. As you may know, his parents were murdered by enemies to the monarchy and ever since, the only relatives that have been in his life have been Hedwig and her family. They're very close in age too — Hedwig being eighteen and Edmund nineteen — which has been a very important thing for him. He sees her as a friend, maybe his only friend. So having someone that could potentially blemish his friend and only family is a threat to Edmund.”

“Then why does Hedwig have Jerry?”

“I don't know. It could be because of a teenage revolt. Jerry is different to everything that Hedwig has ever known … and now that she's eighteen she might want to try something new.”

“Do you think that Edmund is worried about her? Because of Jerry?”

“I wouldn't say worried, because the only thing the king worries about is himself, but I think that there's something along those lines. I think that he sees Hedwig as an extended part of himself rather than her own person.”

You nod carefully.

“I wonder where Hedwig found Jerry” you say. “How someone like her could get the job as Hedwig’s chaperone. Do you know where she comes from?”

Doctors Kry suddenly laughs.

“You ask an awful amount of questions this early in the morning”, he says and gets out of the water. “I'm sorry, I don't have more answers for you, Axel.”

You look up at him, where he stands on the tile floor. He looks down at you with a small smirk.

“You remind me of a little boy”, he says and lowers his eyes onto your physic. “You're awfully trained to be an art trader. One could think that you were an Olympian.”

“Shouldn't a doctor be pleased that I am taking care of myself?”

“I am. You look good, healthy. Just found it humorous.” He wipes away a few drops of water trying to go into his blue eyes. “I suppose that I will see you later. Goodbye, Axel.”

“Goodbye.”

You decide to do a few more laps around the swimming pool before getting up and drying yourself. Tomorrow morning, you will sneak into Edmund’s and Doctor Kry’s cabin to see if the painting is in there. But for now, you need to go to the purser.

You change into your suit. In the front pocket, you keep a little commonplace book to take notes. You make your way back to the pursers office. The man behind the desk gives you a service smile and asks how he can help you.

“Do you happen to have the passenger list?” you ask. “I would like to know where some people’s cabins are located.”

“What is your name?” the purser wonders.

“Axel Ainsworth.”

“Who are you wanting to find?”

“Hedwig Carter and Silas Achilleos.”

The purser disappears into his office. You wait impatiently, suddenly feeling watched. Carefully, you glance over your shoulder, but the only ones in eyesight are two men who are conversing. The purser returns. You fish out your notebook, ready to note it down.

“Miss Carter has cabin B-23 and Mister Achilleos has cabin A-11.”

You write it down. “Thank you.”

With that said, you leave to go to the staircase. You’re not sure where to go, so you decide to take a stroll down the enclosed promenade while thinking. Doctor Kry knows more, you think, but he doesn’t want to tell.

You sit down on one of the deck chairs to write down what you have gotten to know, so that you won’t forget any important information. You write down the suspects' motives to steal the painting, Silas’s weird enemy, their relation to each other — which only connects Edmund, Kry, Jerry and Hedwig — as well as the answers that you have gotten from Doctor Kry earlier today. Who has the painting? Your first instinct says that Doctor Kry doesn’t have it, because he’s not interested in that painting. Had it been the Mona Lisa, things would have been different, but this painting doesn’t interest him. That doesn’t mean that the painting couldn’t be in his room, though, because Edmund could still want to have it.

You stand up after a while and continue walking. Your eyes fixate on something in the distance. A woman dressed in pants talking to a man in a suit that seems to be hiding in the corner of the promenade. You frown.

What does Jerry have to do with Silas's second in command?

You want to move closer, but you don’t want to expose yourself. You’ll have to change the relations in your notes, because there’s clearly something more than you’ve been led to know.

What if Jerry’s lack of background has something to do with the mafia? It would explain her tattoos … that or being a sailor. But because of what you've just witnessed you can most likely scratch the latter. A shiver runs down your spine. If Jerry is dangerous, then Hedwig could be too. You stop in your tracks. Hedwig? Really? Edmund said it himself, she's a stupid, naive girl. Could she be dangerous?

You walk up to the open deck in the stern of the first class accommodations where you find a few kids playing something reminding you of curling. You sit down on the zig-zag benches placed out on the deck and watch them. They notice you looking and ask you to join them, so you do. You decide that maybe you can pleasure yourself in a harmless children's game for a few minutes, and continue the mission after.

When lunchtime rolls around, you make your way down to the dining hall. It's emptier than yesterday evening. You find Silas and his second in command sit by a table. Silas notices you and waves you over. Your feet bring you to him.

“Sorry to cut our talk short yesterday, Axel”, he says politely and gesticulates at the chair in front of him. “Sit down. Let me buy you lunch.”

And so, he does. You sit down and try your best not to glance at the second in command who’s black eyes burn through you. Your stomach twists.

You both get lamb, something you have eaten many times before. Still, it tastes better at sea.

“What did you say that you were here for again?” Silas asks suddenly as he’s cutting his meat.

His voice sounds different from yesterday. You clear your throat to make sure that your voice won’t shiver.

“I’ve been on a business trip”, you say. “And now I’m going home.”

“Yes, yes, I know that. What I mean is that you didn’t tell me why you were in France. What kind of business trip was it? What did you do? I know that you were there for art, but what do one do on an art business trip? You have to forgive me for being curious.”

“I was meeting some people from the Louvre.”

“I see. About what?”

“Art’s future, how to make sure they don’t break or smudge or get tainted by the sun. And how to protect them. You must have heard about ‘the girl with the pearl earrings’ missing?”

“Yes, of course. Isn’t it weird that someone would steal that painting? Why not a Monet painting? Or the Mona lisa?”

“I don’t know. Maybe taking one of them would be too big of a deal. Maybe the one taking the painting thought that since it isn’t one of the most cherished, they’d have an easier time taking it … that the commotion about it would die out sooner or later.”

“Perhaps.”

You’ve noticed that you haven’t heard the second in command’s voice at all, beside the talk he had with Silas yesterday. He doesn’t speak to anyone else than Silas … and Jerry. You still don’t dare look at him, scared that he will see right through you and know that you’ve seen him talk to her. You wonder what they were talking about.

“Did you have a good time yesterday?” Silas asks.

“Yes, I did”, you reply.

“Did you meet someone?”

“No, I didn’t. I chit-chatted with some people here and there, but kept mostly to myself.”

“You do good in that. You never know who you can trust on a big ship as this. You never know who wants you good or not.”

“Why are you traveling, Silas?” you ask innocently. “You said that you were impatient to get to America. Is there a reason?”

“Of course. Everything has a reason. But I don’t think I can share that with you. At least I shouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

Silas turns his black eyes to you and smiles slightly. His hungry gaze makes you freeze. He had seemed so sweet yesterday, but you finally see a slice of what makes him so terrifying.

“Because someone like you shouldn’t know that”, he smiles.

“I understand”, you say and take a piece of food into your mouth, to avoid speaking further.

“You have to excuse my man here”, Silas says and nods at his second in command. “He’s the shy type. He goes wherever I go, so you have to get used to him.”

“Is he your bodyguard?” you wonder.

“You could say that. But I’m always prepared in case someone wants to attack me.”

He opens his blazer, showing you a revolver tucked into the fabric. You have your own in your suitcase. Walking around with it feels too risky, but maybe you’ll have to go get it. In case anything happens.

After lunch, you’re left with a weird feeling in your stomach. You have talked with him for an hour, about everything between heaven and earth … and yet it feels like you have been having two conversations in one — one on the surface and one real.

You walk to your cabin and press down the door handle and walk into the room. The first thing that strikes you as odd is that there’s a new smell in the air. A flowery scent. You can swear that you have felt it before. Without a second to waste, you open your bag and pick up your gun, putting it in your suit. Quickly, you turn around, realizing something. Didn’t you lock the door when you went out this morning?

That evening, you spend dinner with the two girls and stay in the smoking room with Edmund for what feels like an eternity. Edmund wants to play a deck of cards with you. He seems a bit more relaxed than yesterday and even smiles a bit.

After your games against Edmund, you decide to retreat. You walk down the long, dimly lit corridor. The narrow spaces feel almost ominous at night time, although barely any daylight reaches here at daytime either. You glance over your shoulder every tenth step, hesitating, can't help but feel watched. Your hand reaches for your gun, but before you have time to get it, someone reaches up behind you and smashes something heavy in your head. Everything turns black.

DAY 3 — SEA

“He's waking up.”

Your eyes feel like lead, and your head is even heavier. It takes a few tries to open your eyes and when you finally manage to, you want nothing more than to close them again. For a few seconds, you wonder if you're dreaming. They're all here, looking down at you. You look around and notice that they've tied your hands and feet, and left you on the floor at the end of the bed, with your back against the footrest.

You catch a glimpse of the clock on the wall. Just a bit past one in the morning. The third day has begun. You have been blacked out for three hours.

Your head is pounding, making it hard to think clearly.

Jerry bends down, grabs your chin and turns your head back and forth to inspect the damage caused on your head.

“He'll live”, she says and gives your cheek a quick, but harsh, tap.

“Well, well, Y/N”, Silas says, smirking. “You're a bit nosy aren't you?”

The mention of your name causes you to twitch and widen your eyes. In your dulled stage, you wonder if you've heard wrong, but the smirk in their faces confirm that you have, indeed, not lost your hearing.

“So, you were the agent”, Silas continues and shrugs. “I gotta admit, I was hoping that it wasn't you.”

“You were smart-”, Doctor Kry starts.

“But not smart enough”, Edmund cuts him off sharply with his arms crossed over his chest. “‘Art dealer’, yeah, sure. A detective dealing with art. That's not the same, Y/N, if you didn't know that.”

Silas picks up something from his pocket, a small commonplace book.

“‘Suspects are all interested in art, could be any of them’”, he reads out loud. “‘J involved with S? Talked with SIC.’ Jerry? Involved with me? Talked with my second in command? You seem to have it all written down.”

“I was involved with Silas”, Jerry says. “I know his second in command very well.”

“How—How did you … know?” you ask, baffled. “Were you all in on it?”

“Not from the start, no”, Doctor Kry says. “I only knew Edmund and had met Hedwig before. I didn’t even know Jerry, Silas or his second in command.”

You quickly realize that Jerry is the linking chain between them. She linked Hedwig, Edmund and Kry to Silas and his second in command.

“I had already been informed and knew that there would be someone on this ship out to get me”, Silas says. “I heard that Jerry was on board and caught up with her. She told me that she and Hedwig had met you. It was her that thought it was weird that you asked all of us about art. My men dug, and found out your real identity. My men saw you speaking with the purser, hearing you ask for our cabins and decided to tell it all to me and my second in command, who told Jerry … who told the others.”

“You have more men?” you ask and can’t hide how shocked you get.

“Of course. You don’t think I would go on board with only one man? Do you think I'm stupid, darling? You, on the other hand, probably should have had someone, at least.”

“Awfully inconsiderate of your bosses, don't you think, to send you all alone?” Jerry says.

“You were looking for this, weren’t you?” Edmund asks and pulls out something from a wooden box behind him.

You stare at it with wide eyes. The painting.

“Who—Who had it?” you can’t help but question, gulping between the first word.

“Me, of course”, Edmund says with an offended, yet proud scoff. “It will do nicely in my castle.”

“Now, little Y/N, you know”, Silas says. “Are you happy now? Your mystery is solved.”

Your head hurts too much to answer. You’re not sure if you’re happy. You have learned where the painting disappeared, but you’re tied and hurt, and in the enemies’ grasp. A mixed bag, so to say.

“I can’t watch the blood”, Hedwig suddenly says and stands up from the armchair she's sitting on.

She has been the only one that hasn’t smirked at you and seems genuinely apologetic that you're here, but you don't trust that damsel in distress look anymore. She pushes through the others to reach you with a wet handkerchief in her hands. Carefully, she kneels down in front of you and wipes the wet cloth against your forehead. She wipes away the dried blood gently.

“What are you going to do now?” you spit, coming your head to the side. “Throw me overboard?”

“Not exactly”, Silas says, smiling menacingly.

“Not yet, at least”, Jerry says, grinning.

“If I don't meet my contact in New York, people will know that something has happened to me”, you say coldly. “They'll hunt you down.”

“Oh, will they now? I didn't realize that we had stolen their golden boy.” Silas's cruel smile widens. “Well, Golden Boy, plans seem to have changed.”

You glare at him in confusion. Silas pets your head twice and you hiss at the painful touch. Whatever they hit you with, it must have caused a gigantic bruise.

“Seems like we have to keep you for a while”, he says. “But you will have to stay in here, I’m afraid. You probably understand that we cannot let someone like you wander around the ship.”

You glare at him.

“Do you really think ropes will stop me?” you ask. “I'll be out of here in no time.”

“I would very much like for you to see what we do to you if you decide to break free.” He gives you a testing look before turning to his new companions. “Oh, and one more thing …” He picks up a familiar revolver, spinning it around his hand. “... thank you for the free gun.”

You want to curse at him, but keep quiet for your own sake.

“It's late, the ladies should head to bed”, he says, gesturing for Hedwig and Jerry to leave. “We need to keep someone here to make sure that our little Golden Boy won't free himself and run around, causing trouble.”

“I can take the first shift”, Doctor Kry says and golds up a syringe filled with a translucent liquid.

“Do not harm him, you hear me?” Silas tells him warningly. “I want him alive, coherent and unharmed.”

“Where am I supposed to sleep?” Edmund questions angrily. “In this cabin? Now that I'll have people staring at me?”

“You and Doctor Kry will take Y/N’s cabin”, Silas says.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Stop being so spoiled, your majesty.”

“Won't that be suspicious?” Silas’s second in command questions. “If they see the young king exit and enter someone else's cabin instead of his own?”

“No one knows his cabin”, Silas says as if things were obvious. “Besides, we're in New York tomorrow anyways. It won't be a problem.” He turns to the others. “Scatter.”

The five of them walk out, leaving you and Doctor Kry alone. The doctor sits down in one of the two armchairs in front of you with a long, tired sigh. In his hand, he twirls the syringe.

“What is that?” you mutter.

“Something that will make you go to sleep if you're trying to escape”, Doctor Kry says simply, as if he was talking about watering flowers.

“Why did you hit me in the head if you had that instead?” you ask bitterly.

“Because it wasn't me, it was the second in command and Jerry.”

“Did you lie down in the swimming pool? About not knowing where Jerry came from?”

“No, Y/N, why would I? I told you that I didn't know anything. I didn't get to know until this afternoon.”

“And yet you're quick to jump the wagon to get me killed. I thought doctors were supposed to be nice.”

“I’ve never said that I was nice.”

“What do you gain from this? Why do you want to engage in collusion with people like this? What kind of doctor even are you?”

“Still, with all these questions … look, Y/N, it’s late. You’d do good in trying to get some sleep.”

“On the floor? With my head pounding in pain? With my hands and feet tied?”

“Suit yourself.”

There’s a deadly silence after that. You listen to the sounds the Normandie creates, and somehow wishes that she could save you, but you’re trapped within her, there’s nothing to be done. You rest your head back onto the edge of the footrest and sigh heavily. Doctor Kry looks at his syringe as if it is the most interesting thing he has ever witnessed.

“I'm thirsty”, you say after a while.

Doctor Kry stands up, walks over to the dressing table where a crystal carafe is waiting and pours you a glass. He returns to you and holds the glass to your lips, making you drink. You gulp it down and breathe heavily. Doctor Kry returns to his armchair.

You don't know how long you've been sitting on the floor before you start to fall asleep. You thought that you wouldn't, not in this position (figuratively and literally) but you somehow fall asleep.

“Wakey wakey, Golden Boy.”

You feel someone poke your head to the side multiple times and open your eyes to see Jerry hold a stick in her hand which she's using to poke your head.

“It's morning”, she says.

You groan groggily. She imitates you and chuckles.

“Did you have a pleasant night?” she teases.

You decide not to answer, not to humor her further. Your eyes draft onto a silver tray on the table.

“Yes, that's your breakfast”, Jerry says and lifts the tray, putting it on the floor in front of you before sitting down.

She picks up a piece of toast and holds it to your mouth. You take a bite, feeling more humiliated than ever. If only you knew that this was where you'd end up when you stepped on board in France.

“We will be in New York tomorrow”, Jerry says, holding the toast to your lips. “And we'll sneak both you and the painting past your contact.”

“It's just a painting”, you say cluelessly. “Why do you all want it so much?”

“I’m not particularly interested in the painting, but I know that Edmund and Hedwig are.”

“Why?”

“Art nerds.”

“Is it even selling for much?”

“It is — if you give it to the right consumer.”

“And you? What do you gain from this?”

“The thing isn’t about what I gain, it is what I lose … in case I let you roam freely. I don’t trust what you will do with the painting or it’s contents. Plus, you know who I am. If you wouldn’t have stuck your nosy head in everything, you wouldn’t have any problem with me.”

You suddenly realize something.

“Jerry, I need to go to the bathroom”, you say. “I haven’t been to the bathroom since before you knocked me in the head.”

She sighs heavily. “Alright, come here.”

Before pulling you up on your feet, she unties them. You stumble, almost falling on Jerry.

“Watch it, big boy”, she warns you. “If you knock me down I’m kicking you between your legs until you can’t have children.”

“If you hadn’t tied my feet, I would actually have blood in them. I can’t feel them.”

She unties your hands bitterly. You make your way into the bathroom and catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Hedwig had wiped away some of the blood, but there were still traces of it in your scalp. You sigh heavily. What should you do? Finally, your hands and feet are free, but you aren’t yet. And — after a quick look around — there’s no way out. The only way out is through the door which Jerry is guarding.

You could perhaps get out by defeating Jerry, but you have something against fighting women. But, then again, she had knocked you with — what you guess was — a glass bottle. You look around for something that can help you and lay your eyes on a metal bar over the bathtub, used to pull one up. Without a second thought and will all your might, you rip it off. You give it a few squeezes, feeling if it could be strong enough to be used as a weapon and trying to find a comfortable, yet strong, grip.

You open the door quickly and swing the metal bar towards Jerry. She tries to grab it out of your hands but you push her off and knock her to the ground with the bar. You're not sure how hard you are hitting her, but it's enough force to keep her down. Quickly, you make your way past her and storm out of the cabin, almost crashing into the opposite wall in the corridor. You look around quickly, trying to think of where to go. After what Silas said, that he has more men than just his second in command lurking around, you're not sure who you can be seen by. You need to find an officer. You need to get higher.

Shit, the painting!

Your heart is beating loudly in your chest as you scurry back into the cabin. Jerry is lying on the floor, unconscious, and you almost feel bad for knocking her, but you know that it had to be done. It was her or you. Quickly, you open the wooden box and fish out the painting, tucking it under your arm. You can't hide it in your cabin, not when they know about it. You have to dispose of it somewhere safe.

Every step you take is careful, planned and mortified. You clutch the painting tightly, as if it is life itself.

Moving through the long corridor, you're certain that someone will jump out behind a corner and knock you out, like yesterday. Adrenaline is pumping through your veins, almost making you nauseous. You continue through the corridor, over to the hall with the staircases. Your suit has dried blood on it, you look (and feel) manic, will anyone take you seriously?

You freeze as you see a pair of eyes on you. Kry. His blue eyes seem to darken as he notices you, and the painting.

Quickly, you throw yourself into the elevator, and press a random button, wanting the doors to close before Doctor Kry reaches you. And they do, but when you look at the display beside you, you're going the opposite to where you need to go. New plan, you think, I have to sneak into tourist class — or third class, whatever gets you furthest away.

While standing in the elevator, you take a look at the painting to make sure that it hasn’t been damaged in this mess. You turn it around to inspect the canvas and notice something stuck in the corner of the wooden brackets. Carefully, you reach your fingers in and pull out a folded paper. Tucking the painting between your arm and your waist, you unfold the paper to find a list of names and locations … some of which you recognize. They’re all wanted criminals and you guess that the ones you don’t recognize are criminals as well. And the locations …

Your body goes cold and stiff. For a few moments, it feels like the entire world has stopped spinning. This is suddenly more serious than you could ever expect. Quickly, you put the paper in the pocket of your black pants.

You make your way through corridors you haven’t been in before, through doors you’re sure you’re not allowed through. You can’t help but look around at the new environment. Despite being one of Normandie’s lower classes, the attention to detail had been given to every centimeter of the ship.

Focus!

You’re not sure where you’re going, but you need to find someone that can help you. You consider giving it to a random passenger and ask them to give them to an officer, but in your entire training, you have been told not to pull innocent civilians into your job. They could get seriously hurt and it would be completely your own fault.

You make your way through tourist class, making sure not to be seen by anyone. If Silas have more people than you thought, why wouldn’t they be in multiple classes? You’re not even sure why the painting have caused this big of a commotion, but there’s no way you can give up the painting now — not after everything you’ve gone through. Your head is still pounding from the glass bottle and your heart beating out of your chest by the sight of Doctor Kry. He knows that you’re roaming freely, and soon, they all will know … and they will look for you. Silas’s words still ring in your ear; “I would very much like for you to see what we do to you if you decide to break free” — well you surely don’t. But where can one run where the space is limited? It’s not like you can grab a lifeboat and sail your way to safety. The sea can be just as dangerous as the people you’re dealing with.

You look around for someone in black uniform, desperately wanting to find someone to help you before you get a bullet through your head. Finally, you find a steward carrying a metal tray. Like lightning had struck through you, you barge forward and grab his arm.

“Sir, you have to help me!” you hiss and pull him into an empty corridor.

“What are you doing-?” he gasps.

“Please listen and listen quickly”, you whisper in pure panic. The words fall out of your mouth incoherently, but you somehow manage to create the sentences you need for the steward to listen to you. “I have to get to the Captain! Like … now! It’s really, really urgent! Please, just trust me!”

You look around with wide eyes, heart now pounding in your throat. The steward nods in confusion and signals for you to come with him. You’re not sure why he decides to trust you, but you’re ever so grateful for it. He takes you through hidden passages used for staff so that none of the paying passengers will have to see them, up a couple of steep stairs and through some more doors. You hug the painting tightly against your roaring chest. Every corner makes your heart stop, terrified that someone will stand on the other side and knock you out the second you turn.

The steward points at a door with a golden sign on it — ‘Officers’ quarters’. You pound on the door until you’re sure your knuckles bleed. A stern looking man in neat uniform opens, giving you a dark look.

“Who are you?” he questions. “What do you want?”

“I’m Y/N L/N, I’m an agent of the crown and this is the missing painting that has been all over the news … you have to keep it secure until we reach New York.”

The officer looks confused as he takes the painting in his hands and lets you into the quarters.

“You’re bloody, what happened to you, sir?”

“There’s six passengers — Mr Achilleos and his man, His Majesty Edmund of Vesanus, Doctor Karl Kry, Miss Hedwig Carter and Miss Jerry Kim. They knocked me out and kept me in a cabin the entire night. They’re working together. They want this painting …”

… and probably my life by now.

“ … keep it safe”, you beg the officer and feel your voice quiver. “Please. If i can’t meet you at the harbor when we dock tomorrow, please give it to my contact — I will write down his name — and tell him that he can find further information on board the ship.”

“I will tell the captain about the passengers, they will be taken care of and kept in arrest until we reach land where the police will deal with them”, the officer says.

“Thank you. A lot. Really.”

“You can stay here if you want.”

You feel for the note in your pocket and shake your head. “I have to do something first.”

The officer nodded. On shaky legs, you open the door and walk out into the corridor again. The steward is long gone and you’re alone in an unfamiliar corridor. You suddenly feel exhausted and decide to stay close to the door for a few moments to catch your breath, as if the officers’ quarter was a safe place.

The note has to be hidden somewhere across the ship so that your contact can find it in case you don’t make it out alive. The note is more important than the painting and can, under no circumstances, go in the wrong hands. These names have to reach your contact. The group will look for the painting in belief that the note is still there, so the note has to be hidden separately so that they won’t find it.

You make your way through the corridors slowly, making sure not to be caught with the list of names on you. In a weird, panic filled daze, you make your way through corridors, through lounges and dining halls where you hide the note. Underneath a chair, stuck to the corner. You deice to find your way back to the officers’ quarters and somehow find yourself out on deck. The wind is grabbing at you, pulling you left and right. You have a hard time keeping yourself on your feet. No one else is outside and you suspect it has to do with the fact that it’s early in the morning and the dark gray sky above you threat of rain.

“Y/N, don’t move.”

You turn to see the second in command with a gun in his hand.

“If you shoot me you'll ruin your life”, you say to him as confidentially as you can muster, but you can't help but worry if he's going to pull the trigger.

“Do you think I care?” the second in command questions with a scoff. “I serve my boss until my last breath, I couldn't care less about other trivial matters. Where's the painting?”

“You don't care for the painting. Ask me instead where the note is.”

His eyebrow twitches.

“You know about the note, huh?” he says, eyes narrowing. “Seems like I'll have to get that out of you.”

“Why don't you have your boss do it? Or is he in arrest?”

“Don't worry about him, he always comes out on top. Come with me now or I will shoot you-”

“Shoot me then. The note is hidden and the painting is with trusted people.”

“Idiot. Do you think I was born yesterday? If I shoot you, I can't get the note. You may be stupid, but i dont think youre careless enough To sacrifice yourself for such a trivial thing. Get over here. Now.”

You're unarmed and alone, but if there's one thing you've been taught, it is to not give up without a fight. Your eyes catch onto an officer patrolling the upper deck and whistle. As the second in command takes his eyes off of you, you dive head first into the swimming pool. From his perspective, you don't think — wish — that he sees the man above him. The water wraps around you like a cold blanket and for a few seconds you can't even feel the wetness, only biting cold that almost makes you gasp under the surface. Somewhere, you think that you can hear a gunshot and see something whooshing past you in the water. And then another, and another. And then nothing.

You don't return to the surface until you're sure that the bullet rain has stopped. Your burning lungs gasp for air and you grip the ladder to your left. The second in command has been wrestled down on the deck by the same officer you saw. A smile tugs at your lips as the second in command glares at you from the floor, smashed against the planks.

“Sir, are you alright?” the officer asks, panting.

“I'm okay”, you reply, panting heavier.

An ice cold wind cuts right through you.

“Go inside”, the officer tells you.

“Y/N!” the second in command shouts as you've started to walk. “Don't forget that there are more. You barely know half of the people we have on board. Don't think for a second that you are safe!”

You pretend not to hear him and make your way inside for warmth. Unsure of where to go because of the second in command’s words, you return to the officers’ quarters.

That evening, you make your way down to the arrest. There are still two questions you haven’t gotten an answer to. You've gotten your gun back from a steward and have tucked it in your blazer. Nausea is eating you up from the inside as you walk into the room, watching the cell and its habitants.

“Look who it is”, you hear Jerry snicker. “Change your mind, Golden Boy? Do you want us out?”

You don't even bother to answer.

“The painting is in a safe place, and so are the note”, you say. “I suppose that Jerry, Silas and your second in command wanted the note and not the painting … and Edmund and Hedwig wanted the painting … but what did the Doctor want?”

“Me?” Kry asks coldly and walks over to the bars with his arms crossed. “What I wanted?”

“Yes”, you reply.

“You, of course. Imagine, my own little lab rat that I could do whatever I wanted with … no one would even bat an eye if both you and the painting disappeared.”

“You won't get any of it.” You let your eyes wander over the six people. “Not the painting, not the note, and absolutely not me. Jail is what you will get.”

You can hear Hedwig start to sob in the corner of the cell. She has sunken down along the wall with her head hanging between her knees, body shaking with sobs. Edmund sighs and walks over to her side, grabbing her shoulders and trying to pull her up on her feet.

“Don't cry”, he says quietly. “We won't go to jail, I will make sure of that. I won't allow it.”

“Did you just come down here to revel in our misery?” Silas asks you.

You're not sure why you came down here. Did you want to make sure to yourself that they were behind bars? Or make you feel more powerful? Or even just get to see them?

“You do know that we will have our revenge, don’t you?” Edmund says and looks at you. “This is not the end.”

“I hope that you like being a dog, because that's what you're going to be, leash and all”, Silas scoffs.

“Tattooed”, Jerry adds on with a tilted smile. “Marked. Would Golden boy like that?”

You ignore her, and walk over to the cells bars, eyes glued onto Hedwig.

“What were you doing in my cabin?” you ask.

She freezes, looking cluelessly at you through her teary eyes.

“What?” she asks in shock.

“Your perfume was all over my cabin”, you say coldly. “Why were you in my cabin?”

“I-I’m sorry, Y/N!” she cries and runs over to the bars, reaching out for you.

You back away.

“I’m sorry, I-I … I looked through your things. I couldn’t help it, I just … I really, really wanted to hold you. I didn’t take anything, I promise! Please believe me, Y/N, I just wanted to- … it doesn’t matter. Forgive me.”

You don’t answer. Maybe Hedwig isn’t as sweet and innocent as you thought.

DAY 4 — End of voyage

After your hell night last night you couldn't be more grateful for the somewhat pleasant night you had. Every single sound and movement woke you up, preparing you to see one of the six criminals or their acquaintances. And since a ship is in constant movement and makes sounds only God knows about, you barely slept for an hour straight. But at least you were in a warm bed.

You can't eat anything during breakfast. You stare at the sandwich and steaming coffee in front of you with a twisted stomach. The room is filled with passengers, like normal, but the bright room can’t be more dark and sinister. It is as if someone has drained it of color. Any of the smiling guests can be one that want to put a bullet through your skull, and is waiting for you to rise from your chair and follow you outside.

When a waiter comes over to your table, the coffee has stopped steaming.

“Good morning, sir”, he says politely and places a silver tray with a silver cloche on your table.

“What is this?” you ask in confusion.

“A gentleman told me to give this to you. He has paid for it and everything.”

With that said, he smiles and walks away to continue his job. You glance down at the dome looking metal and feel your heart sink. Although you don’t want to, your heart reaches out to pull it away and reveal whatever is lying on the silver tray underneath. You’re not sure what you are expecting but a small, folded paper is certainly not it. As if on autopilot, you open the paper to see only a line.

“We will be waiting for you when we dock, you won’t get past us. We are watching you.”

You were right. A knot appears in your throat. Your legs go numb. You will be killed.

The air is hard to breathe in and you have to get out before you suffocate. You get out on the deck with the lifeboats hanging above your head and lean against the railing. In a few hours, Normandie would dock and you would be caught. You’re not sure that the steward who had helped you before would be able to save you, and you don’t want to put him in more danger … but you can’t step off the ship in New York’s harbor. The lifeboat above your head gives you an idea. A stupid, right out ridiculous idea …

You look around you before your shaking hands release the lifeboat from its holds. You have been taught the most outrageous things to rescue yourself — including lowering an ocean liner’s lifeboat. The davits slowly bring the lifeboat downwards and you climb in, lying down to avoid being seen. Your body trembles with fear, unsure of what this will bring you … or where it will bring you.

There's nothing on the ship that you should bring with you. There's no guarantee that the lifeboat will reach the harbor safely, but its a try. The painting will be more secure with the steward.

You feel a ‘thump’ from when the lifeboat hits the waves underneath you. You see how Normandie towers above you, the black steel never seeming to end. A pair of heads stick out from the side and something hits the water beside you. Quickly, you cover your body with your arms and legs, curling up until all vital organs are covered. Hitting you with bullets on this distance are harder than one can think, but not impossible. The second you’re sure that they can’t reach you, you get up and start to paddle. If the men tell a steward about the missing lifeboat, they’ll steer their ship over here to get you.

Your arms quickly grow sore. From now on, you’re entirely alone. There’s no one to save you in case anything happens and you will have to find your way to land by yourself. But it's better than being on board the ship.

The sea around you feels abnormally calm. There’s no distinctive sounds apart from the waves hitting the side of the lifeboat.

You sit for a moment, taking the time to think. This case has been different from all the others you have done. More personal than you could ever have anticipated. You’re not sure why, but something with this case told you that things wouldn’t be over if they got their way. It was more than just materia, they want you too … to use as they please. Doctor Kry was right. Who would bat an eye if you disappeared along with the painting? They wouldn’t call it a kidnapping, it would be a disappearance that could be explained by the painting. And now they have none of it. Not the painting, not the list of criminals and not you. Pretty successful, you think. Maybe you succeeded this mission after all?

You hiss as you touch your sensitive head. You’ll have to find a doctor in New York.

Hours go by. You row, you rest, row, rest, row, rest. Throw up. Damn if you have gotten a concussion, you think, but it’s probably just the sea air making you nauseous.

How things had turned out. You thought that you would have had to deal with one or two criminals … not six. Ad how Silas had seen right through you …

It’s over now. It will be over soon. Is it over?

You continue to row.

in the distance, you see a fishing ship pulling up their net and you wave with your arms in hope for them to see you, which they inevitably do. Your exhausted, cold body is picked up and wrapped in an old blanket.

“What were you doing out in a lifeboat like that?” one of the old sailors asks. “Which ship has sunk?”

“It’s the Normandie!” another one says as he reads the name on the wooden planks. “Has the Normandie sunk?!”

You tell them that it hasn’t suck — in fact, it’s steaming on better ad stronger than ever — but that an accident had happened, which resulted in you all alone in a lifeboat in the middle of the ocean.

They give you a yellow rain coat that you use to hide in and join the sailors to New York’s harbor that evening. In the distance, you see the different ocean liner piers. Cunard-White Star Line, United States Lines, HAPAG, Italian Lines, Swedish-American Lines … and finally, Compagnie Générale Transatlantique. Normandie was towering above all the other liners and you stood there on the pier, looking at it. Four days ago, you had been standing in the harbor at Le Havre and been excited to step on board. But now, that you are looking at it from afar, in the dim lights, there’s something unsettling about the her. It looks like she’s apologizing to you for everything that she allowed to happen between her walls. You almost start to cry.

You turn around and walk without giving the ship one more glance, hoping that it will be the last time you get to see the Normandie.

You meet up with your contact in a small warehouse that following morning and tell him what you have hidden on the ship. He promises to retrieve it. He already has the painting and has secured it, had gotten it from the very steward you had left it with.

“I have something else too”, he says and gives you an apologetic look.

“What?” you ask and watch him closely as he takes out a paper from his pocket.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You open the paper and feel your blood go icy cold. The handwriting is unfamiliar, but the nickname you see written in black …

“Thought you could lock us in? Think twice, Golden boy, we’re already out. We’ll find you, be so sure of that. Don’t think that we will let you slip away. You will look good in a leash.

S.A”

You fold the paper just as quick and breathe out a shaky breath.

“Don’t worry, Y/N, you will be protected”, your contact promises. “It will not be any problem, I assure you.”

With the six people’s contacts and power, you doubt that your protection will do much, but you nod. The painting is safe and the note is safe. They may have escaped jail and are looking for you, but you succeeded with your mission. And that is all that matters.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere mafia #yandere oc x reader #yandere fics #yandere stories #yandere doctor #yandere king #yandere female #female yandere #yandere rich girl #yandere oneshot #yandere ocs #yandere ocs x reader #male reader

565 notes · View notes

mineau · 26 days

Text

TELLING THEM YOU WANT A BABY ╰╮ 스트레이키즈

genre ﹕ mostly fluff with ﹕ hyung line note ﹕ woke up thinking abt girl dads minchan and well..! i refuse to be held responsible for the thoughts of my subconscious

⟡ — CHAN

his first reaction is to make someone kind of joke—i’m already baby, don’t you want me?—but when he realizes you’re serious, he pauses. work had always been his first priority before he’d met you, and he truly doesn’t know where he’d be if he hadn’t (accidentally) spilled coffee all over your outfit just minutes before they were supposed to head out to perform. you really want a baby? he asks, expression crumpled into nervous yet hopeful, and you nod your affirmative with a laugh when he looks like his mind is going a mile a minute. hopefully they’re not as clumsy as you are, you tease, and get a playful swat in response. you know he’s heavily considering it when the two of you go shopping and you find him lingering near the baby aisle with the ghost of a smile on his lips.

⟡ — MINHO

i already have kids, is his sleepy grumble one early morning, an arm thrown over your middle. you can only see the tousled mess of his hair out of the corner of your eye, him choosing to bury his face into the space between your neck and shoulder, his words just barely coherent. i mean a non-furry baby, you laugh, and he sits up with a comically confused expression. are my kids not enough for you? he balks, brows furrowed, through the slight upwards curve of his lip proves his other sentiments. i want a divorce, he scoffs then, but you can’t help but snort when you find a handwritten list of silly names to consider on a sticky-note pasted on your laptop screen a few days in passing.

⟡ — CHANGBIN

he cries. for days. at first it was for dramatics—you’re replacing me! am i not cute enough for you?—pouting at odd hours of the day when he remembers. but then he remembers the baby has a fifty-fifty chance of having your eyes. your smile. the cute way you scrunch your nose up with you don’t like something. they might learn the little happy dance you do when you eat your favorite foods, and now tears well up in his eyes at the mere thought. he might die, honestly. his poor heart wouldn’t be able to take it.

⟡ — HYUNJIN

at first, he’s a bit apprehensive. children are expensive, you know. jokes and small things that poke lighthearted fun. but one family gathering manages to change his entire worldview—a setting of you fast asleep with a baby cousin snuggled comfortably in your arms, their small hand grasping on to the front of your sweater. you don’t realize it’s affected him this much until you spot his lockscreen a few days down the line. and when confronted, he just simply shrugs and says, i want to see my baby first thing every time i see my phone.

#property of mineau.#skz #skz x y/n #skz x you #skz x stay #skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids x stay

1K notes · View notes

mountttmase · 2 months

Text

Not Your Fault

Note - i hope you’re all excited to meet the final bubba 🩷 a few guesses for the name were right but no one guessed the exact spelling 😂 I hope you love them as much as I do though and hopefully I’ll be able to write about them a bit more as we learn about their personality 😌 hope you enjoy and feedback is always appreciated 😘

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 6k

Warnings - fluff, smut, tiny bit of angst

Putting the kids to bed with Mason was never an easy task. Mason putting the kids to bed on his own was a recipe for disaster but right now there wasn't much the pair of you could do.

You could hear Mason trying to wrangle your two babies as you sat with your third in the nursery. Ollie trying his hardest to help Mason tame Tilly as she ran riot and you knew Mason was about to explode. You wondered if you should get up to help but Ryley was feeding peacefully in your arms and you didn’t want to disturb him.

‘Welcome to the mad house baby’ you whispered, stroking your finger along his perfect nose all the way down to the end before awkwardly reaching down to kiss his head. ‘You’ll get used to Tills, she’s just excited about you being here’

And she really was.

Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine you’d get pregnant so quickly after agreeing to try again and after your first two pregnancies you thought you knew your body well enough now to know when something had changed. Clearly that wasn’t the case though and it was actually Mason who figured it out first that were pregnant with a little help from Nala.

The kids were at school and Mason came home to find you cuddled up with Nala on the sofa. Her head and paws on your tummy as you scratched her head but as soon as he tried to cuddle you, Nala wasn’t having it. Growling at him when he tried to put his arms around you and pushing him away with her nose.

‘What’s crawled up her arse and died’ Mason laughed. Trying to snake his hands around your middle but Nala would fight him off every time until he gave up and grabbed your boob instead.

‘Mason? Do you mind’

‘Take it up with her, she’s hogging you’ he huffed but you just let it slide. You knew Mason needed to be holding something and if it was your boob then you’d just have to get on with it as he wouldn’t move off. You didn’t think anything of it though, you just knew Nala was protective and after you’d been cuddling for a while she was feeling territorial.

It was two days later that Mason caught you crying in the utility room. Half buried under all of the kids washing and the look of concern on his face just made you cry even harder. You’d been trying to get ontop of the cleaning all day and it the point you just felt overwhelmed.

‘Hey, what’s wrong sweetheart?’ He asked as he helped you up but you didn’t really have an answer for him. Trying to quieten your sobs but you could feel your bottom lip still wobbling as he looked at you softly.

‘Sorry Mase, I don’t even know why I’m crying’ you laughed as he wiped your eyes for you. ‘I’m just a bit emotional at the moment’ you told him and by the small sigh you knew he had something he wanted to say so you raised your eyebrow at him in hopes he’d speak.

‘Baby, you don’t think you might be…’

‘Drowning in washing?’ You laughed but the soft look on his face made you be quiet. He looked genuinely concerned but there was also something behind his eyes you couldn’t quite place.

‘No you wally… pregnant’

Pregnant? You didn’t think so at all. Apart from feeling more emotional than usual you didn’t have any other symptoms that you could think of and you wondered if Mason was just getting ahead of himself.

‘No I don’t think so Mase, I’d know if I was’ you told him but you watched his face soften as he cupped your jaw.

‘Well I know you too, and I think you are’ he teased. ‘You’re all emotional, you’re eating everything in sight and Nala suddenly won’t let me go near you’ he listed off and you blushed at the fact he’d clearly caught you snacking more than usual. ‘Maybe we should check? Just to rule it out’

‘I mean we can but it’ll just be a waste’ you laughed ‘We only started trying a month ago, Mase. I doubt it would have happened that quickly’

‘Don’t doubt my powers of fertility’ he laughed and even though you wanted to smile you were trying your hardest to keep a straight face.

‘You’re insane’ you huffed, grabbing his hand and taking him upstairs to your en-suite. You’d made sure to stock up on tests since you were now trying and you instructed him to wait on the bed while you took it.

‘There you go’ you smiled, walking out of the bathroom and handing him the capped test that was still loading. ‘What do you fancy for dinner? I’ll go get it started’ you told him as you made your way to the door but he grabbed your wrist to hold you in place, looking back at you like you’d lost your mind.

‘You’re not gonna wait?’

‘There's no point, it’ll be negative babe. Now what do you want?’ You told him, shrugging your shoulders as you really believe deep down that you had nothing to worry about as there was no way you were pregnant already.

‘You pick’ he told you quietly, and with a kiss to his forehead you made your way back downstairs and into the kitchen.

Mason was gone for a while, almost to the point where you were about to go and find him but he suddenly appeared in the doorway with his eyes full of tears and a soft smile on his face. You knew he would be upset that it was negative, knowing he wanted a third baby more than anything but you figured at least if he was smiling then he hadn’t taken it too hard.

You didn’t have a chance to say anything though, Mason coming straight over to you so he could cup your face and press gentle kisses over your cheeks which made you blush and your knees weak but you loved his gentle side and you let him shower with you affection.

Before you could reassure him everything would be fine and you had all the time in the world to try for baby number three, he pulled back to look at you and you were frozen in place as you knew what that look in his eye meant.

‘You’re pregnant baby’

‘What?’

‘You’re pregnant’ he laughed, kissing your cheeks again as you froze in his hold. Letting him continue to kiss your face and it’s like his words hadn’t hit you yet until he rested his forehead on top of yours.

‘You're lying’ you whispered, your bottom lip wobbling as your eyes started to burn but he just laughed at you. Reaching into his pocket to pull out the test so he could show you and there it was in black and white. The words pregnant staring you back in the face until you looked up into Masons happy ones. ‘We’re having a baby’

You burst into tears instantly as you fell into Mason's chest. Him holding you close to his body as he rocked you from side to side, letting you know it was okay and that he’d keep you safe, the both of you safe, and when you eventually pulled back he kissed your tears away.

‘I didn’t think it would be this quick, sorry it’s just a bit of a shock’ you laughed, trying to wrap your head around it as your stared back at the word pregnant.

‘It’s alright, baby. Are you feeling okay?’

‘I think so’ you laughed. Letting him grip the back of your thighs so he could place you on the counter and look him in the eye. ‘I just can’t believe it, like I don’t even know what to think’

‘Well It’s still early love, how about we keep it to ourselves for a little while and tell the kids when we’re certain everything’s okay’ he reassured you and you felt yourself relax at how calm and in control he was about everything. ‘We can tell the rest of the world after that when you’re ready but for now it’s just us yeah? You, me and Nala’ he joked before pulling you in for a well needed hug.

So you kept it to yourselves. Telling the kids after your 12 week scan and as soon as Tilly found out you were pregnant she’d barely left your side and was seemingly very quizzical about what was happening. You knew she wanted to come out and ask fully how it had happened but she kept it inside until one night when it was just the three of you.

Ollie was at a friend's house for dinner and after all of you had eaten, you were cuddled up on the sofa with Mason, Tilly nestled in between you. Her head on Mason's chest as you watched whatever was on the tv but soon enough Tilly was ready for a biology lesson.

‘Daddy, how did the baby get in mummy’s belly?’ she asked, her head tilting up to look at him but as soon as you looked up you could see the panic written all over his face.

‘Yeah, how did it happen, Mase?’ You teased wanting to know how he’d worm his way out of this one but you could see he was hating every second of this. Sending you a what the fuck face before looking back down at Tilly who was waiting patiently for him to explain.

‘Okay, so you know how you write a letter to Santa at Christmas?’ He started, Tilly nodding excitedly and you could see the cogs turning in his brain, wondering where the hell he was going with this but let him carry on. ‘Well, when two people who love each other very much want a baby, they write a letter to the stork and then you have to bury it in the garden so they can come and pick it up’

You could see Tilly wasn’t buying it, looking back at him in confusion and you yourself were waiting for what he had to say next.

‘But how?’

‘How what?’

‘His did they get into mummy’s belly’ he asked more firmly this time as Mason was quite clearly skirting around it but knowing Tilly she would ask and ask until she got her answer.

‘Well um… well then the stork, it comes back and uh… and it leaves a seed which is the baby… and uh, that goes in Mummy’s tummy’ he nodded, stuttering the whole way through as he was panicking but you were loving how flustered he was. Trying to hold in a laugh as you covered your mouth with your hand.

‘But how does the seed get in there?’ She persisted, watching Mason now try to hide a smile before his eyes flashed to yours and you knew he was about to say something he shouldn’t.

‘She swallows it’

‘Okay that’s enough for today’ you interrupted, pulling Tilly onto your lap ‘you need to go and pick Ollie up’ you told Mason with a slightly dissatisfied look on your face and he quickly kissed your forehead la with a smile before getting up. ‘Come on missy, let’s get you in the bath, yeah?’

‘Okay mummy,’ she smiled. Reaching over to give Mason a kiss on the cheek before making her way up the stairs and you promised her you’d be right up in a minute.

‘Right I won’t be long’ Mason laughed as he got up, reaching down to help pull you up with him but he must have caught the unimpressed look from you as he began to laugh at your expression. ‘What?’

‘You know what’ you laughed. ‘Maybe If I had swallowed we wouldn’t be in this state would we’

‘I love it when you talk dirty’ Mason laughed. Pulling you into him with his hand on your bum and he squeezed it as he kissed you heavily. ‘I’ll see you soon, maybe when the kids are in bed we can try-‘

‘Mason I swear to god’ you laughed, pulling away and tapping his chest before making a beeline for the stairs but the sound of his giggles as he made his way out the door made you giggle along too.

Things took a turn at the gender reveal though. The four of you not doing anything extravagant but you knew you wanted the kids involved so after you scan you gave your bestie Sid an envelope with the gender inside so she could organise a cake and the next day you were all sat around the kitchen island with wine glasses in hand ready to sink them into the cake and you couldn’t be more excited.

Mason and Ollie didn’t care what the gender was, as did you, but Tilly was gunning for a baby sister. Having already picked out some toys for her to have and she constantly referred to the baby as she. You knew there would be a meltdown if she didn’t get her way but you were trying to distract her as best you could.

‘Okay, are we ready?’ you laughed, popping your hand on Tilly’s glass to help her push down into the cake and after the count of three you shut your eyes and pushed down on both until you hit the board.

It was Tilly crying no that made you realise what had happened. Looking round to see everyone’s glass filled with the blue frosting from the inside of the cake but Tilly’s wails wouldn’t let you enjoy your time just yet.

Mason was trying his hardest to contain his laughter and when you pulled Tilly into a hug to console her, he wrapped his arms around the pair of you whilst Ollie just grabbed a fork and began to dig into his cake.

‘Tilly baby, it’s okay’ you tried to reassure her, holding your laughs in as best you could but she just cried harder.

‘I don’t like boys’ she sobbed into your neck as she held you tight and as much as Mason looked like he was about to lose it, he peeled Tilly away from you and began to talk to her quietly. Eventually taking her out into the garden where you could see him swaying her from side to side as he spoke into the side of her head and eventually she was nodding her head and wiping her eyes

You joined Ollie though, accepting the fork he passed you so you could dig in too while you spoke about the new baby boy on the way and Ollie was very quick to reassure you how excited he was and how much he wanted to help out.

‘Okay, I think we’re on board now’ Mason announced as he walked back in with Tilly on his hip. A smile on her face but her eyes were still red and watery so Mason sat her on the side so you could feed her some cake.

‘Tilly, my new book came today. Shall I read to you for a bit?’ Ollie asked, your heart melting at the way he wanted to cheer her up as Ollie reading to her was their thing. Whenever Tilly was on mad one or overwhelmed he’d often take her over to their little corner to calm down and your heart felt full as she toddled off with her hand in his.

‘So, another boy huh?’ Mason smiled as he came over to you. Resting his hands on your waist as you rested yours on his chest and you were thankful for a little bit of alone time with him.

‘Looks like it. And after two clones of you I’m hoping this one looks a little bit like me’ you told him before he kissed your forehead with a giggle.

‘Are you happy?’

‘Of course, as long as he's healthy I couldn’t care what they are,’ you told him softly and he nodded his head in agreement. ‘What did you say to Tilly?’

‘Told her it’s another boy to boss around. And that if she’s the only girl then she’ll always be my only princess’

‘What about me?’ you pouted, watching Mason roll his eyes but he was leaning down to kiss you just after.

You’d picked a few names out, but just like you’d done with Tilly you wanted to see him before you named him and once you had, the name Ryley seemed to fit him like a glove. Whilst you could tell he was Mason's boy you were constantly told how much he looked like you and it made your heart swell whenever you looked at him.

Tilly also came around as soon as she saw him. Almost bursting into tears at the way her little face softened at the sight of her new brother before she was looking up at you for permission to say hello to him and Ollie was just as perfect as ever with him.

A new baby meant a whole new routine though and lately it meant Ryleys feed came at bed time so Mason had to put the others to bed on his own. Usually he’d love this but clearly the novelty has worn off for Tilly and she was making it as difficult for him as possible.

Soon enough the noise died down. Mason telling Tilly that Ryley won’t want to stay with us if she’s too loud and she finally took the hint and got into bed. Letting Mason read her a very quick story before he went and said goodnight to Ollie with the house falling silent once more.

You felt Mason pop his head into the nursery soon after, his eyes and facial expression soft as he took you in but he couldn’t hide the deep blush on his cheeks. Eyes flicking down to your exposed chest as you fed Ryley and you could see he was debating whether or not he should come in but you nodded your head to motion for him to come over. Watching him carefully make his way over to the pair of you and when he was close enough you lifted your head in hopes he’d lean down and kiss you. Revealing in the feeling of his lips brushing against yours softly and you hummed in delight just before he pulled away.

‘You two alright in here?’ He asked quietly, crouching down so he could kiss Ryley’s head. Your heart fluttering at the adoring way he looked down at him before his gaze was locked on yours.

‘We’re okay. Are you okay?’ You laughed, referring to the nightmare he seemed to have just had with the others and you smiled as he rolled his eyes playfully.

‘Oh you heard that yeah?’ He laughed. ‘Unless you put Tilly to bed she’s a right pain in the arse’ he teased. ‘I love her but my god she’s a handful sometimes’

‘They don’t call her Tilly the tiny terror for nothing’ you winked. ‘You done good though sweet cheeks’

‘Thanks’ he laughed, rolling his eyes again. ‘I’m gonna go sort myself out but I’ll see you in our room in a bit, yeah? Take your time’

‘Okay’ you whispered and with one last heavy kiss to your lips he was making his way out.

You sat Ryley up not too long after so you could wind him. Knowing Mason hadn’t really got to see him all that much today and he’d be itching for a cuddle soon so you made your way back across the hall to your bedroom for some time for just the three of you.

You didn’t questione why the door to your bedroom was shut even though maybe you should have. He never usually shut it as it was harder for you to open with just one hand whilst carrying Ryley and you always kept it open just in case one of the kids needed you but you just shifted Ryley on your chest so he was over your left shoulder and pushed the door open.

You should have known there was a reason why he shut it. Walking around to be met with the sound of his loud breathing and when you rounded the corner and into his view you were shocked by the sight in front of you.

There he was laid on the bed, T-shirt riding high on his perfect body as his boxers had been shuffled down his thighs ever so slightly to free himself and even from the split second view you knew what he was doing as his hand moved up and down. A shocked gasp falling from your lips before you turned and you heard mason fumbling behind you.

‘Shit! Oh god, oh god no’

‘Mase, it’s okay’ you told him, slightly chuckling as you turned back around to face him but the look on his face made your heart drop.

His cheeks were redder than you’d ever seen them, a humiliated look plastered across his face no matter how much he tried to hide it and he looked on the brink of tears.

‘Masey, no don’t get upset it’s alright’

‘I need the bathroom-’

‘No wait’ you called, popping Ryley into his crib as quickly as you could before rushing over to him to stop him from hiding away in the en-suite for the rest of the night and thankfully you caught him before he was able to shut the door. ‘Come here baby, come and talk to me’

‘No I-‘

‘Mase, come on’ you interrupted, pulling him back to bed so you could sit on the edge with him in hopes he’d look at you. He was determined to keep looking down though so in the end you just held him tight and spoke into his hair. ‘It’s okay, you don’t need to be embarrassed or anything. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before’

‘I thought I had more time’ he told you. Holding you tighter but you hated how down he sounded.

‘Look at me’ you whispered, letting him take his own time to gather himself before looking up at you shyly. ‘You don’t need to be embarrassed, it’s perfectly normal’

‘I know I just… it’s still embarrassing’ he laughed. ‘I feel like a teenager who’s just been caught. I just thought you’d be a bit longer with the little man and I’d have time. I haven’t wanted to ask for… you know. I wanted to wait until you’re ready and-‘

‘Who said I’m not ready’ you smiled. ‘I gave birth 8 weeks ago now so that’s two weeks over’

‘I know’ he smiled. I’m just worried that’s all’

‘Worried about what?’

‘I don’t wanna hurt you’ he whispered and your heart broke at his sad face. ‘Remember what happened after Tilly?’ He asked and you nodded solemnly.

It had been six weeks since Tilly had been born and you knew Mason was chomping at the bit to have you. You were too big and uncomfortable towards the end of your pregnancy so it had been months since you’d last been intimate and it was almost as if Mason was counting down the days.

Your night didn’t go as planned though. Unbenounced to you, you still weren’t fully ready and even though Mason had been gentle with you and you’d tried to push through it, it hurt too much and you’d ended up bursting into tears.

Mason felt awful, almost in tears himself as he tried to comfort you but you knew he was blaming himself when he shouldn’t be. In the end you took his face in your hands so you could pepper his cheeks with kisses but your heart was breaking as he repeatedly told you how sorry he was.

‘Masey it’s not your fault’ you told him quietly, but he wasn’t having any of it. Hiding his head into your neck for the rest of the night until the pair of you eventually fell asleep.

He was quiet with you but extra soft for a few days until you could talk it out and let him know it wasn’t his fault. You just had to wait an extra few weeks and everything would go back to normal.

You could see it in his eyes now that he was frightened so you pulled him closer and cupped his jaw so you could look at each other properly.

‘Tilly had a massive head baby’ you laughed. ‘She was a right pain to get out but I don’t feel like I did with Tilly. Ryley was a breeze compared to her and I’m all healed up now. There’s nothing to be afraid of’

‘Yeah?’ He smiled. His body relaxing in your arms as you reassured him everything was okay and the small smile on his lips made you feel a lot better.

‘Yeah, of course. In fact… what do you say we pop Ryley in his nursery for a bit so we can have some time for just us’

‘Wait, what?’ He whispered, his face looking slightly shocked but in all honestly your been craving some alone time with Mason yourself. ‘Are you sure?’

‘100%, Just give me a sec and I’ll be back’ you told him. Slightly untangling yourself from him so you could pick up Ryley and take him over to his nursery. You never left him in here at night but he had his naps in here all the time so you made sure the baby cam was set up properly before dropping a kiss on his head. ‘I’ll be back for you soon, little one. Just keep sleeping for me’ you whispered. Taking one last look before making your way back to Mason.

He was sitting on the bed facing the door when you got back and a sudden wave of anxiety rolled over you as soon as you shut the door. Your body had changed so much since he’d last seen it and you knew you were covered in stretch marks and still sagging in certain places so when he pulled you in between his legs you tried not to look him in the eye.

‘Baby? Everything alright?’ He asked, fingers delicately tracing the backs of your thighs and you just nodded and you pulled him into a hug.

‘I’m okay, just nervous’ you laughed awkwardly. ‘It’s been a while’

‘I know, love. We can go as slowly as you want to though, yeah?’

‘I know’ you smiled, kissing his forehead gently but he could still read your mind and sense how apprehensive you were.

‘And I don’t care what you think your body looks like now. You know that don’t you? I love you and I just wanna make you feel good’

‘I know, Mase’ you smiled, eyes filling at his sweet words. He’d said the same after both your other babies had been born but the words still hit you deep. You didn’t look like you used you, three babies would have an effect on anyone but Mason never cared. He took you as you were and only cared about looking after you, telling you you’d given him everything he’d ever wanted and he’d make sure he looked after you in whatever way you needed.

His hands were trailing all over your bare legs, touching wherever he could as his lips pressed kisses to your chest and you couldn’t help but giggle as he finally got to touch all the places he’d missed for the last few months.

‘What’s so funny?’ He smiled, pinching your bum gently as you steadied yourself but his cheeky smile was melting you.

‘We’ve been together for so many years now, had three kids together and you’re still as horny as ever’ you chuckled, wanting him to know how ridiculous you found him but deep down you knew you were just as bad.

‘That’s what happens when you’ve got the most beautiful wife in the world’ he told you. ‘You know I’ll never not want you. Even when we’re grey and wrinkly I’ll still think you’re hot as fuck’

‘If you’re trying to get me in the mood, talking about old people probably won’t help’ you told him, kneeling onto the mattress and his light laugh made you smile.

‘Noted’ he winked, shuffling back and inviting you to lay with him and once you were next to him he laid you back gently and kissed you with as much passion as he could muster.

He kissed you until you felt dizzy, your hands gripping at him where you could and when when you moaned into his mouth he rolled ontop on you so he could look directly down at you.

‘What do you want baby? You want my fingers?’

‘Mhmmm’

‘Yeah? You don’t sound so sure’ he teased but before you could protest he was talking again. ‘I think I know what you really want’

‘What’s that?’

‘You want my mouth, don’t you?’ He whispered lowly into you ear. The sound making you shiver and a gasp to fall from your lip at the sound of his dirty words. ‘Thought so’ he chuckled and before you knew it he was kissing down your neck as he grabbed the hem of your shirt.

You knew it was just Mason and he loved you no matter what, so you let him remove all your clothes as he placed kisses to your exposed skin. Pushing any nervous thoughts out of your head so on you could enjoy the feel of him again.

As soon as his lips touched where they needed to you felt yourself melt. Feeling like you were floating on clouds as he reminded you what you’d been missing out on for months as you tried your hardest to keep your moans at bay and not wake anyone. He made it difficult though. Getting back into the rhythm of things like he’d never been away and soon enough your fingers were getting tangled in his hair as he pushed you over the finish line.

‘Stop biting your lip, I wanna do that’ he laughed, as he made his way back up to your face. Kissing you so you could taste yourself and you let out quiet moan as he gently sunk his teeth into your bottom lip.

‘I’m trying to be quiet’ you laughed, lips against his as you spoke before he stole another kiss from you. Knowing he was ready and raring to go.

‘What do you want now baby?’

‘I want you. All of you,’ you told him. Watching a slight nervousness flicker through him and you wanted to reassure him straight away. Gripping the back of his neck so you could tug him back down for a kiss and as he got into it you began to undress him until you were both naked and needy for each other.

You knew he was watching you the whole time as he pushed his way inside of you. Your face contorting in pleasure as he took his time before bending down to press gentle kisses over your face.

‘Is that okay?’ He whispered, moving his hips slowly so you could adjust to him but you were already seeing stars after not feeling him for so long and all you could muster was a nod. ‘Yeah?’ Breathed, a sense of relief laced through his voice and you nodded as you tried to reassure him further.

‘Yes masey, keep doing that’ you moaned, louder than you’d intended to but it all felt so intense and you knew mason was feeling it too.

‘Should I slow down?’

‘No, just like that’ you sighed. Reaching up to grab his shoulders so you had something to steady yourself but also because you wanted to feel his skin under yours.

‘You wonder why I still can’t keep my hands off of you?’ He moaned, pulling up so he could hold you at your waist and take a bit more control. ‘Fucking look at you, you’re unreal’

‘Mase-‘

‘I know gorgeous. I’m with you, just let go for me’ he told you and you did exactly as he said. Letting him coax you through it until you were spent and he was flopping down gently next to you.

Sometimes you felt like this was your favourite bit. Laying skin to skin with your man as he gently stroked your back and you couldn’t help but nuzzle into him more as you made every second count. You’d missed these moments with him and from the way he was holding you close you knew he’d missed it too.

‘You okay?’ He whispered after a while. Feeling your eyes growing heavier as he lulled you to sleep but you looked up at him with a soft smile as he kissed your nose.

‘I’m perfect’

‘I didn’t hurt you at all did I?’ He questioned quietly but you shook your head so he knew you were fine straight away.

‘I promise you, I’m absolutely fine’ you told him. Pecking his lips softly before sighing. ‘I’m so comfy but I need to go and get Ryley. I don’t like leaving him in there alone for too long’

‘Stay there, okay? I’ll go get little man’ he reassured you. Kissing your head gently before untangling himself from you so he could get dressed and grab your boy.

You got dressed too whilst he was gone and you were just pulling your top over your head as he walked back in with Ryley cuddled into his chest. Your heart thumping at the way they were together and no matter when or where, watching Mason with a tiny human always made your knees weak.

‘Come on boys, mumma needs a cuddle’ you laughed. Jumping up onto the bed and letting Mason pass you Ryley before he laid next to you. His head on your chest as Ryley laid on the other side and you couldn’t stop yourself from looking down at Mason and seeing how happy he was to have some time with Ryley. ‘You okay, Mase?’

‘I’m better than okay’ he smiled, reaching up to give you a quick peck before nuzzling back down into your neck. ‘Thank you for everything, I never thought I could be this happy’

You didn’t have the words for him. Your eyes filling with tears as you kissed his temple but inside you were agreeing with him wholeheartedly. You too never thought you could ever be this happy but as you thought about where you were right now and who you were with, you knew right now your life and your family were complete.

Thank you so much for reading 🩷 I really hoped you enjoyed it and I’d love if you could leave me some feedback if you fancy it 😘

470 notes · View notes

diremoone · 8 months

Text

tlc, baby | g. satoru

w — periods, mentions of severe cramps, concerned bf ‘toru who doesn’t like seeing his gf in pain, an author who wanted toji to win the poll but is gonna do all the boys anyway bc toji, and the fact that this is too short and crummy omg (don’t write while hungry haha), hopefully toji’s is longer and better :D

[ divider cred @/firefly-graphics ]

5:14 am

The wake up is sudden, abrupt and extremely painful. You know what’s going on, but the second you try and do something about it, you find yourself sinking to the floor beside the bed in misery.

You really don’t want to walk downstairs, that’s gonna be misery. But if you don’t get and remedy this soon, you fear it’s just going to become worse.

It also sucks because your boyfriend isn’t home. You’d really, really like him to be home. But he isn’t. He’s out looking for an elusive Special Grade curse that nearly took out Mei Mei a few weeks ago on behalf of the stupid elders.

You’d curse them more if you didn’t feel like shit.

You burrow your head into the mattress and focus. Gathering up a little bit of energy, you stand and make your way to the kitchen, only to end up sitting down by the cabinets. You groan, knees up close to your chest to try and relieve some of the pain. You’re tempted to bang your head into the cabinets a few times, but the rationality of not adding more pain to the mix won over.

You can barely think straight; one second there’s the thought of running a bath and the next it’s waves of pain. You think about what’s in the fridge, then you’re overwhelmed by the intense need to barf.

“Fuck,” you mutter.

And then a loud voice echoes through the large home from your bedroom.

“Baaaaaabbbeeee!”

You snicker at your boyfriend who teleported into the bedroom that doesn’t have you in it. You hide your laughter behind your hand until another wave of agony rolls over your uterus and up your spine.

Satoru eventually finds you in the kitchen (after looking in the bathroom and under the bed). His smile disappears the second he sees you, but you don’t take notice since your forehead is burrowed into the wood of the cabinet door. He frowns, not liking the expression on your face.

“Baby?”

Satoru crouches and lowers the black mask you’d gotten him for his birthday. His heavenly blue eyes flicker up and down with worry.

“Monthly,” you manage to get out, and he instantly knows what you mean. Your entire body shakes with a shudder, so much so that the giant man is easily lifting you onto his lap to cuddle, his back now the one that presses against the wall of the kitchen.

Satoru is a heater, nothing short of the furnace that you’ve been in need of. One large, hot hand is pressed against your back, the other tucked against your lower abdomen in just the right spot. And the relief you feel makes you literally dizzy.

Your massive boyfriend however, is even more concerned than ever. The amount of stress he’d felt release from your body was nothing short of insane to him. You’d always relax and let go of all your stress in his hold, yes, but the amount of tension to how limp you were in his big arms was borderline upsetting.

You’ve never been this tense, this stressed. How long had you been like this before he was home?

“I’ll be okay,” you speak to him breathlessly. “I just need something for the pain and something to eat.”

Satoru lists off some things in the pantry and fridge, all of which makes your stomach turn and just burrow your head into his shoulder more. It isn’t until he gets to the sweeter side of the food you do have does the nausea fade away.

He reluctantly pulls away and grabs a familiar looking container on top of the fridge with a mischievous smile, one of his hands still holding yours as he stretches his massive 6’3 body across the kitchen to nab the period painkillers you need.

You don’t see him shove them and a small water bottle in his pocket, but you see him wrap his giant hand around the white container right before he fucking lifts you up off of the counter with one fucking arm and carries you back to bed.

But you don’t complain. You’re way too lethargic and fatigued. And why would you anyway?

He places you back on your side of the bed and gently plops the white container on your lap before kicking off his shoes and whips off his jacket so dramatically that you laugh. You scream as he jumps on the bed, almost on top of you. Satoru does nothing but laugh like a lunatic in return while he turns on the TV across from the bed.

Like magnets, you two end up snuggled deep into the big, thick pillows your boyfriend has propped up behind you in an instant. One of his arms is wrapped around you as you nestle into his side. But the fun doesn’t last. Your brows furrow as another wave of searing pain washes over you from your uterus. You groan and dip your nose into his collar, sharply inhaling and shakily exhaling.

“Here’s the magic pills, baby. Take ‘em.” Satoru’s voice is not the same, high-pitched excitable one he normally has. It’s the deep voice, the one he uses when he’s diving into his emotions. It’s the voice that he uses when he’s sharing his love with you in bed, or when he’s simply just loving you and taking care of you. Just like he is now. The tone of his voice is calming, relaxing, reassuring; all of the above makes your brain go fuzzy.

You pop the pill-shaped-relief in and chug it down with water and ‘toru wraps his arm around you, tugging you to him sweetly. He pops open the large white container, revealing all the chocolate chip cookies inside of it.

You laugh. “Oh my god, Satoru! This is what this is?”

“What else could it possibly be?” he jokes.

Not even a few minutes later though, the agony returns. The tearing feeling from your uterus is almost too much, lasting almost all the way through the Disney castle intro and the first couple minutes of Big Hero 6 with your head tucked into your boyfriend’s collar.

Satoru presses a kiss to your head and puts his hands in the same spots from earlier, with just as much tension leaving your body. He exhales silently.

“Go to sleep, baby,” he tells you. “It’s not worth it.”

“Want to…” you mumble, then let out a heavy sigh as heavy cramps roll over you again. “You’ve been gone a week.” You aim for a cookie and eat it in two bites.

Just like the cookies, you’re sweet — too sweet and too good for him, and he swears by it. He presses another kiss to the top of your head and replies, “Spend time with me by getting some sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up. And I’ll take care of you tomorrow, too. Whatever my girl wants.”

“…. Sure?”

“Positive.”

“…..Mmmmm’kay.”

Satoru knows you’re still awake and working through the pain even half an hour later. You may not be watching the movie, but you’re still listening, giggling when Fred screams, “CAR!” to Wasabi as the villain tries to kill them.

It’s not too long after that though, he feels your cursed energy finally relax. Your body is clearly slack against his own. He chuckles at feeling a little bit of drool soak through his shirt. You’re in a deep sleep, thank goodness. And he hopes it stays that way. The medicine worked. He wasn’t sure if his eyes could take the sight of your cursed energy bearing that much sufferance much longer before cracking himself.

Satoru closes his own heavenly blue eyes to sleep. Yeah, he’ll definitely be here tomorrow. Taking care of his woman was going to be his first priority. Mission be damned.

”G’night sweets. See you in the morning.”

@vagabond-umlaut — @heresan — @dellalyra — @torusmochi — @nayrring — @out-of-reach22

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #jjk gojo #gojou x reader #gojo satoru #gojo oneshot #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jjk oneshot

994 notes · View notes

feeder86 · 3 months

Text

Feeder 86: The Top Ten

Can you believe that the Feeder86 ‘Orginal Gainer Stories’ blog will soon be posting the two hundredth story? I thought of many ways to celebrate. But then I stopped and realised that I would probably be best using the time to address one of the questions I get asked about most frequently. Which of the stories do I personally like the most?

This was not an easy list to make as I very rarely go back to re-read my own work after I have finished editing and posting them. This is not because I do not like them, but because I always see bits that I want to change. Nevertheless, this project was the perfect opportunity to revisit a few oldies that I remember being very proud of at the time.

Hopefully you will see this list for what it is: a glimpse into how I write, my motivations and drive; rather than just a self indulgent pat on the back for myself. Yuck!

So, with that being said, let us begin...

#10 The Feeders’ Formula: This tale certainly had to be placed into the list. After all, it is the one that kicked off ‘Original Gainer Stories’ all those years ago. There are many amazing examples of instant body weight transformation stories out there. I felt that I needed to write this one as my contribution to the genre. It went down well at the time. I swiftly wrote a Part Two, then followed it up with others (The Feeders’ Formation, The Feeders’ Formalities, The Feeders’ Foreclosure, The Feeders’ Forecast, The Feeders’ Former Years), becoming something of an ongoing saga in recent years; focusing on the different Feeders from that very first meeting. As a writer who sometimes struggles to find the ending, these are wonderful to write as they all have the same inevitable conclusion. There is also so much freedom to be had when you’re working with characters who are pretty much pure evil. I know so much more about the Feeders than I’ve ever written down, so it is great to tease out those little details with each new installment. The newest of these tales (The Feeders’ Foreplay) was the darkest yet, but seems to have provoked a very favourable reaction from many. Who knows what the Feeders may get up to next? I do! And you can find out too, once we start a whole new sweeps season of stories this April! Come with me into The Feeders' Fortress!

#9 Only One: Where do I start? Only One has my absolute favourite type of feeder. Ben is big, sexy and very in control. He’s one of those rare types of guys who always stays on top and is a step ahead of absoultely everyone he meets. Who wouldn’t fall for him? I certainly did! In fact, I loved him so much that I wrote an entire prequel for him (and none of you even noticed!) Check out Rewire if you want to see how Ben became the man we know and love.

#8 The Wright Boys: The idea of a weight gain that cannot be stopped or controlled is a tempting one for many. How much easier would it be if you didn’t have to second guess your choices or face the pressure to lose weight? This was the first tale of what I see as ‘The Curses’ saga that eventually bled into many other stories (including another one on this list!) and culminated in Wright vs Beckett. However, this story remains my personal favourite of these. If you’re a fan of looking for crossovers between my stories, these are some of the most explicitly linked. I followed it up with a spin-off tale (The Wright Boys: DNA), but continue to have ideas about how I could go back to these boys in the future. Watch this space.

#7 Making Monsters: The title of this story really does give away how I felt about it at the time. This is quite the saga, spread over into not just two, but three parts! It began as a story that was very similar to Blackmailed; a tale that I had written previously about a guy voyeristically enjoying seeing his friend fatten up her boyfriend. However, this story evolved even further for me, with Tommy’s love of eating and gaining weight being both his greatest love, and his biggest shame. His denial only heightened the tension for me, and, when he does eventually give in, the gains feel all the more satisfying as a result.

#6 The Pig Feed: It’s not easy to write a gainer story where there isn’t another character spurring the events along and encouraging things. In this tale however, that role is given to a very tasty and surprisingly addictive pig feed mixture that Steve gets himself hooked on. It’s a story that I really enjoyed writing and still feel very happy with. I have considered writing more stories around this interesting feed. However, I am yet to do so; deciding (for now at least) that things are perhaps best left as they are. But, feel free to let me know your thoughts on this.

#5 Farm Boy: Whether you grew up in a big city, or a small rural community, like Hayden in this story, we can all relate to having desires and attractions that those around us don’t understand. And, thanks to how well connected we are these days, we now know what it’s like to realise that you’re not actually alone, and the whirlwind of excited emotions that follow. I enjoyed writing this story because I, quite simply, fell completely in love with Hayden. As kinky as he was, he still retained that fresh faced innocence throughout. If any of my characters were destined to be together forever, I imagine that these two would be my top choice.

#4 Keeping a Crush: This is one of those stories that I wrote in a matter of hours, and I was so pleased with it when I was done. Getting the train to go to work is not necessarily something that many Americans have to do, and so the location had to be switched to the UK (quite refreshing, I thought!). For me, it’s one of those really rare instances where placing very solid restrictions on the structure of a story (In this case, having it all take place during the commute to and from work) and finding that it actually elevates the sexual tension and mood. All scenes take place in public settings. All conversations could, in theory, be overheard. These days, so many people meet online and flirt for weeks by messaging back and forth, before they even see each other for the first time. Nowadays, for better or for worse, the actual, real fantasy is finding a connection with someone you just see in the real world; perhaps with a person you literally just met on the way to work...

If you’ve not read this one, I really would highly recommend it.

#3 To the Max: Stories with a magical element to them are either loved or hated. However, I find that this tale walks that line very successfully. Ned gets his hands on a love potion and makes straight guy, Max, fall for him. I’m sure we’ve all been there with that fantasy! However, it is in the consequences of inviting someone into your life, someone that you actually know very little about, that the entire eroticism of this story is based. I won’t spoil it for those who have not read it, but believe me when I say that things soon start getting very interesting indeed…

#2 Tommy’s Two Hundred. Don’t recognise this one? Well, that's because none of you have read it yet.

Now, I’m not just saying this because I want you all to come back for the two hundreth story, but this is genuinely one of my absolute favourites. For my big milestone stories in the past, I have written something specifically for that event (Wright vs Beckett, The Seven Feeders of Finn). However, this is just a tale that I adored writing and decided to hold back for you all, especially for this occasion. It’s a story of domination and submission within a fairly open, but very kinky, relationship. Strapping Hunter plays the part of a very controlling feeder, making me break many of my own rules and stretching my boundaries to the absolute limits. You’ll either love him, or you’ll hate him. That’s all I’m going to say…

Also, this story is going to be the first Feeder86 story that will be fully illustrated. It’s all thanks to the amazing talents of Spellwell9 who was given an advanced copy and asked to imagine the characters in four different scenes. I cannot wait for you to see this!

Put it in your diary. All will be revealed from Friday 5th April…

#1 F80 Control: This is perhaps a controvercial choice (especially as my #1). I have previously admitted that this story strays a little from its purpose of being a gainer story. In other words, I get very caught up in the background story that is being told. However, I feel that the science fiction genre is surprisingly underused in tales of weight gain. Yet, the combination of Aritificial Intelligence and submission seemed, to me, to be the perfect blend. It really is a beast of a story if you can follow it all the way through to its conclusion.

With the advent of improved artificial intelligence software in recent years, I felt the time was right to develop the world further, with the addition of F80 Ctrl Alt Del; a spin-off tale set slightly before the main story. Then, unable to help myself, I followed this up again with another companion story, F80: Kidnap and Control.

The reason I chose this universe as my favourite is because this is where I am happiest writing. With AI, I don’t need to consider the morality or motivations - I know exactly what their aims are and I can see multiple ways in which it will cause conflict with humanity (and their waistlines!) I would also love to write more for this world one day, and I even left a little unused subplot in the last story that I think would provide the perfect starting-off point for another chapter. Will I ever write it? Well, we’ll have to wait and see…

So, there you have it! The the complete list!

This was a much harder exercise than I expected when I first embarked upon it. Stories like: Jiggle the Jock, Meticulous, Rule Number One, Freaks, Leftovers I and II, Ethan: The Secret Feeder and, not fogetting The Consequences I, II and III all crept in and out of the list, unfortunatley missing out on the final cut. There are many, many others, of course. But this list cannot go on forever...

So, why not tell me which ones were your favourites? Feel free to write in the comments and post a link to any other stories that you have enjoyed from myself, or from other authors. Hopefully, if we all work together, this could become a great resource for people in the future, filled with signposts and reccommendations.

Also, don’t forget the Feeder86 Contents page where you can find links and descriptions of all the 200 stories posted so far (as well as plot outlines for upcoming tales as well). Please continue to enjoy the vast catalogue of stories, and even have a go yourself! I love supporting the many new gainer fiction writers who contact me. So please do get in touch if you need advice, or to talk through your ideas. Let’s all encourage a whole new generation of people to get typing away! I’m sure you will cheer them on just as much as I will.

Thank you to everyone who supports the stories blog here on Tumblr. Keep checking in every Friday througout April for a whole new sweeps season to celebrate this milestone. Stories will include: Tommy's Two Hundred, Train for a Gain, The Feeders' Fortress and The 1% (a companion story to The 5%). For now, I thank you all for taking time out to sit and read the very bizarre tales that sprout from my mind. You are all wonderful.

Happy 200 stories!

Feeder86

#gainer fiction #gainer stories #gainerstory #gayfeeder #gainerfic #gainer story #gayfeedee #gay feedee #gainerstories

862 notes · View notes

grandline-fics · 4 months

Note

Hi! Hope I’m no bother but I fell upon your blog and I couldn’t help but love it. I wondered if I could have a hcs, drables, one shot, any format who arrange you, with Shanks and Mihawk (Sorry if you aren’t comfortable with those characters, pick up other if you prefer) who meet their first love after years and years of no see? I heard a lot that you will forever love your first love, so I wondered how they would reacted to meet them/her once adults and mature. They stay with their first genuine love quite a long time, 5-7 years, and broke up for no real valid reasons, just because they were young and else, they met their first love maybe at 16-17 yo. Sorry my English is awful :,)

DESCRIPTION: You’re their first love and reunite after so many years

WARNINGS: none

CHARACTERS: Mihawk, Shanks

WORDS: 2,388

A/N: Sorry I've gotten so behind on these, it's been a rough few weeks but I'll hopefully be back on track soon. Thank you for this request. I really hope you like it!

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST

———————

MIHAWK

Love wasn’t a word Mihawk considered to be heavily used in his vocabulary. Some would call him heartless and cruel but he was a realist. If anything he thought the world overused it to the point of it losing it’s depth and importance which was why he tended to rarely let it fall from his lips. Yes he had ‘lovers’ from time to time but were they ever considered someone he loved? No. None of them even came close to that. How could they when the one that had claimed his heart, the one that taught him the true meaning of the word love, was you.

Although it had been so many years, the memories he had with you were still so clear and sharp that they could have rivalled any blade. Your paths had crossed at the very beginning of his travels across the world in the hopes of training and claiming the title of the world’s greatest swordsman as his own. He had been pointed to your home by the locals after asking who the best sword fighter was, eager to add another victory to his steadily growing list. However when he appeared at your home he was a little thrown to find you tending to a small plot of farmland. Mihawk knew you were the only one living here as the locals had told him that much, so there was no confusing you were the one he was looking for. He wasn’t expecting someone who looked as young as him to be his supposed opponent. Still he was proof that age had no bearing on talent. So he challenged you.

Quickly he was thrown once more when you lifted your head from your work to fix him with a look he’d never forgotten. Your eyes were bright and silently assessing and whatever it was you saw in him made your lips quirk into an amused smirk that in his youth had made Mihawk skin prickle with an unfamiliar warmth. He could only watch as you rose with the basket of freshly pulled vegetables in your arms and firmly refused his challenge and walked towards your house. He’d never been refused before and demanded to know why, following you inside. “I don’t need to give you a reason.” Had been your cool reply before you looked over your shoulder at him. “I just don’t want to.”

“I’m not leaving until you fight me.” Mihawk had boldly declared, the intense sincerity of his words causing you to laugh. At the sound, he had originally bristled but it wouldn’t be long before he found that it was his among his favourite things in the world. True to his word, Mihawk had stayed on the island far longer than he had intended. Every day he came to your home and challenged you. Every day you refused and watched him storm away. Eventually though after your refusal you would invite him to stay; sometimes to share something to eat, or even to go on a walk, or to help you with your chores. At first he hadn’t understood why he so readily spent the time with you but then he did. He wanted to be with you more than he wanted to fight you. When he realised that, his time with you each day grew more and more until he didn’t go and stopped challenging you completely.

You loved him completely and never wanted to be apart from him, because even though you were both young you knew what you felt was real and unshakable. However you knew that it wasn’t right. He couldn’t remain on a tiny island when his ambition lay out in the large and unseen world. As much as it pained you to do so, you insisted it was time to stop things. Mihawk had to go and become the greatest swordsman and you had to stay on the island because as it stood, you were the only one that could protect the others living there. Your reputation kept many away but as Mihawk had proved, some would come looking for a fight or to cause harm to the innocent. Begrudgingly Mihawk saw the sense in your words and he left but you were never forgotten.

Now here he stood in some nowhere town on some random island, watching you talk to an elderly woman tending to a flower stand in the middle of the market square. It was you, he knew it was you. Time had aged you like the finest of wines, your beauty matured for all to see. Then you laughed and it proved what he’d already known. After all this time without you and even though any free moment he had he thought of you, to see you now and know that you were just a few feet away from his touch he couldn’t help but let his mind wonder about you beyond his fondest memories. What if you’d married? What if you didn’t remember him? What if you didn’t want to see him?

When you said goodbye to the woman and started to walk away, Mihawk found that his previous worries disappeared instantly, not wanting to risk losing this chance. Immediately he set off through the crowd in the direction you went in. Thankfully you hadn’t gotten too far and when he was close, his hand lightly touched your shoulder and took a step back when you turned suddenly to face him.

Your expression flickered from confusion to shock and then joy at the unexpected sight of your first love standing in front of you. It gave Mihawk a feeling of relief to see the smile light your face before your expression became playful. “Well? Aren’t you going to ask me?” Mihawk blinked in confusion but quickly he realised you meant a challenge and let out a small breath of amusement. Slowly he shook his head.

“No, I just don’t want to.” He answered simply, smirking when you finally stepped closer and slid your hand around his arm.

“In that case, I’m not leaving you until you do.” Mihawk chuckled and started walking down the street with you. Finally reunited with the only person he ever loved? There was no way he was going to let you go again.

SHANKS

When Shanks was young he never fully understood why Roger, Rayleigh and the other older members of the crew got so distracted and frankly stupid in his opinion when they were around ‘attractive’ people when they were visiting an island. It always went beyond just enjoying being off of the ship for a while and making friends. Curious one day as they sailed on a calm stretch of water, he turned the question to the vice-captain who laughed at the question. So Shanks pressed more. “It just doesn’t make sense. What’s so special about them that makes you all so goofy and red faced? The Marines would lower your bounty if they saw you like that, the Captain too.”

“Oh, you’ll understand when you’re older Shanks.” Rayleigh told him with another laugh and light clap on his shoulder. Still that answer wasn’t good enough for him and he stared at the older man. If he was old enough to ask the question, surely he’d be considered old enough now for an actual answer. Seeing that the issue wasn’t going to drop, Rayleigh relented just a little more and sighed. “Look Shanks, it’s a little hard to explain but it’s another way of enjoying life and our adventures. We don’t know how much time we have at sea before finding a new island so it’s best to enjoy all it has to offer. Company with attractive people who feel the same about you is another aspect of that.”

“Doesn’t it make you sad though? You never see them again. Don’t you miss them?”

“Not really. It’s not love and they know that.”

“Huh…” Shanks felt even more confused then. The older crew always had a sickly loved up expression during the encounters he’d witnessed before they disappeared with their new ‘friends’ for the evening. So if it wasn’t love what was it? More to the point a new question came out of his mouth. “So what does love feel like?”

“Love? What’s with the hard questions today, lad?” The vice-captain muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean it’s different for everyone. Sometimes it’s slow, other times it’s fast and comes out of nowhere. Still I suppose at the same time, love feels similar. It’s like lightning hitting you mind, body, and soul. It’s powerful. When you’re in love and know it, it’s like nothing else matters but them. It’s like their very presence can calm and excite you all at once.” Shanks slowly nodded. He could understand that in theory but one person being the only thing he could think about seemed dangerous to him. Satisfied with the answer given, he finally let Rayleigh continue with his day.

Looking back on that conversation now that he was older, Shanks would laugh at his own naivety as lust was certainly something he knew when he hit puberty just as Rayleigh had predicted and know it a lot. Love however, he only ever experienced once. Only a year after the conversation about love, the crew had docked on an island and headed straight for a restaurant in desperate need of plenty of good food and drink. Taking a seat, Shanks sat back and waited for the usual fun to start. Given the sudden increased size of customers, the owner called for you to help out the family business and take the orders.

You made your way to Shanks’ table and took the orders. Shanks was distractedly looking at the menu and had zoned out, only snapping out of it when your hand lightly pushed the rim of his straw hat up and leant in to smile at him. “Anything catching your eye or do you need more time?”

Shanks’ lips parted as he stared blankly at you, feeling like something shot right through his body. He was frozen in place and yet he felt warm, lost completely in your eyes. It felt like an age before his mind began to work again but really it had been only a few seconds. Quickly he managed to clear his throat and picked the first thing he saw when he forced his eyes back onto the menu. At the sound of you moving onto the next table, Shanks let out a breath only to wince when Buggy’s elbow caught him in the ribs. “Jeez, what came over you?” He’d asked, finding his friend and rival’s reaction to you funny but at the same time it was concerning to see Shanks so out of sorts. However the others at the table smirked, knowing the signs immediately.

It seemed like luck was truly on Shanks’ side when he was told they would be staying on the island for a few months to ensure they had enough supplies and preparation done before continuing on the next stretch of the journey. That meant he got to spend more time with you which was all he wanted. Luckier still, you seemed to be as equally taken with him. It had been just as Rayleigh had described love, you were all that mattered in his waking and sleeping moments and you brought him a sense of calm he’d never felt before but at the same time just being near you made his entire being feel restless and excited.

While he fell in love first you fell in love with him just as fast. Sadly it never got to last because in what felt like a blink, he and the rest of Roger’s crew were saying goodbye to those they’d gotten to know in their time on land. You’d done your best to keep a brave face and seem cheerful for Shanks’ sake. “You can always come back and visit some day, right?” You told him with a tight smile. “You’ll have plenty of stories of your adventures to tell me when we see each other again.”

“I promise each one will be more impressive than the last. The next time you see me, I’ll be Captain of my own ship.” Shanks promised with a proud puff of his chest that made you smile through the hurt of having to say goodbye.

True to his word, Shanks did become captain of his own ship and his great adventures took him over the world, some distracting him from the promise he had every intention of keeping. However as the years passed, he’d idly considered had time only made his feelings for you seem stronger than they had been through mere nostalgia. When he did finally manage to return to your island, he had been shocked to hear that you’d left many years ago. The disappointment he’d felt at the news told him that no, it wasn’t nostalgia; his feelings for you had been real.

Another handful of years passed and one evening in a tavern, Shanks and his crew talked and laughed as drink and food flowed freely. As Shanks drained the drink in his hand he faintly heard the sound of the chair beside him being taken. At first he thought it was Benn or Yasopp but when he glanced out of the corner of his eye and saw you there, his entire body locked. Choking on his drink, Shanks felt the painful burn in his throat as he forced his drink down instead of coughing it up. Wheezing he slammed his hand against his chest and could feel his heart beating rapidly and he knew it wasn’t because he nearly drowned on his drink. “Y-you!” He managed out, finally able to look at you, the same feeling he’d had in his youth crashing into him hard. “Wow.”

“Wow yourself.” You grinned, taking in the sight of how much the boy you’d fallen in love with had changed yet still felt the same. “So, got any stories for me, Captain?” Shanks laughed and turned properly in his seat to fix you with his full attention, his eyes set firmly on your face.

“I’ve got a lifetime of stories for you, just as promised.”

“Good, because I’m not going anywhere.”

#one piece #one piece imagines #one piece fic #one piece scenario #one piece x you #one piece x reader #one piece fanfiction #dracule mihawk #dracule mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk x you #hawkeye mihawk #one piece mihawk #mihawk x reader #shanks x reader #shanks x you #shanks one piece #red hair shanks #red haired shanks

475 notes · View notes

madschiavelique · 11 months

Note

miguel has this habit - when he is stressed, he starts rutting and humping his clothed dick against you (just friction, no cumming). and since he has to put up with everyone’s shit - that happens a lot throughout the day. it’s like his brain shuts off for a few minutes and he is doing it on autopilot - no thoughts head empty ✌🏻😸 just the warm feeling of his best girl under his touch being there for him, and it’s enough to calm miguel down for a while. you’re quite used to it, and you don’t mind his brainless activity since it’s rather helpful for him and for you - you don’t need to do too much expect to hold your ground - once he thrusted so suddenly and strong it knocked you down 😅 (he felt really guilty after that). silly silly man

one day he was under so much stress that his crotch was basically glued to you. you felt bad for him - to see him so frustrated. but you felt bad for yourself too - his constant humping made your panties dripping wet and you couldn’t actually do anything about it while being at work. so when you two returned home, you finally could punish him for making you horny for all day in a best way possible - fucking him dumb until he can’t coherently respond to you 💅

i am SALIVATING anon dayummm

summary : miguel humps you when he's stressed (not proofread)

content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, dry humping, pnv sex - unprotected sex (be safe kids), fem!reader, no use of Y/N word count : 1,4k

tag list : @fandom-ash

It had become a ritual. As soon as the situation became too stressful, as soon as everything in his head became so hectic that his mind sizzled and his skin tingled, he would come to you to hump on you. It was automatic, he needed to get rid of all the stress and unpleasant sensations in one way. This helped him to decompress, to simply concentrate on his desires, on your body and its warmth to get away from work pressure.

You'd always find a way to get alone and he'd hump you, desperately, rubbing against you and letting the frictional sensations electrify and stabilise everything around him that was preventing him from keeping his mind straight.

He could hump your thigh, against your fingers as you encouraged him and kissed the side of his neck, and sometimes against your clothed cunt. It wasn't always easy, letting him do that for a few moments and then having to go back to work when he was calm again and you were left turned on.

And today, it was a particularly painful sensation as your desire grew. Miguel was taking you aside easily every hour, humping against your ass, almost fucking your hands, rubbing desperately against your cunt.

Your body was becoming more sensitive by the hour, and every time Miguel came to you with that apologetic look on his face, you knew you were going to be tempted and doubly aroused.

He'd come back to hump your covered pussy, and the longer the hours went on, the more painful your arousal became. Your clit was throbbing, your body all hot, and that cloud spreading and tightening in your lower belly kept intensifying as soon as you had those little private moments.

You knew that, if he continued for even a few minutes longer in those moments, you wouldn't be able to stand it any longer and might come.

You wanted so desperately to just take off your bottoms and panties while he stripped off his clothes so that you could feel him inside you, all warm and tight.

But he always left before either of you could taste the completion of your two shared pleasures. He would go away, and you would follow him to continue his work. You sat next to him and tried to rub your thighs to feel a little friction, something that would hopefully satisfy you even a little without being able to literally go do something about it yourself.

Miguel wouldn't let you move away from him, wanting to make sure that if the urge arose again you'd be by his side. Today he was afraid that if you weren't there just in case, he wouldn't be able to control himself, and he hated that: the lack of control.

So you suffered in silence, and he did the same. It was almost unbearable, like shaking a champagne bottle from time to time, the bubbles building up and ready to implode, but never being opened.

The power with which you led him into his quarters once the work was done was exceptional. You made sure the quarters were locked, and led him to your bed.

You kissed him with such appetite that he took a step backwards, soon coming back to feed on your lips. You pushed him down onto the mattress, straddling him as you humped him this time, almost aggressively.

The friction that your cunt and his cock were looking for had become necessary, sending little sparks of desire into both your bellies that would ignite a hungry fire.

You began to take off your costume, Miguel helping you with the task as his was depixelating. Your underwear was completely wet, proof of the excitement that had lasted you a whole day.

"Already so wet for me," he breathed between two pecks, humming as he came to kiss you harder.

Both your sexes were now finally naked, and a moan escaped from between your lips as you placed your cunt on him. His warmth against yours was a sensation you had been seeking all day.

You let yourself slide from the base of his dick to his tip, wanting to smear a little of your desire on his skin.

He let out grunts of desire, gripping your hips to make you move faster against him. You clit rubbed like that made you feel like your entire body was connected to one single place, and you finally understood the anticipation that Miguel could have on stressful days.

You understood all those sensations, those desires to have more without ever being able to satisfy yourself or let yourself have a climax for good, but now you were going to satisfy them.

"I'm going to take care of you now," you whispered as you held his dick underneath you, lining it to your entrance.

Without waiting for any response from him, you impaled yourself on him, both your mouths overflowing with moans.

At last you felt your walls closing in on him and not on empty space. You were so wet from all this previous unvoluntary teasing that you almost slid around him effortlessly, sinking down until your clit was in contact with the skin of his lower belly.

A drunken little smile graced your lips as you began to undulate your hips, the friction and sensations you'd so long sought finally present. Your pelvis was acting on its own, rolling back and forth like waves crashing on the sand as you watched Miguel's eyes close of pleasure.

He was guiding your thighs, grunts finally coming out loud and clear of his throat. He'd spent his whole day just grinding, and the setting prevented him from being even a little too vocal.

"Gosh you feel so good," he breathed in absolute adoration.

You kissed his lips and the crook of his neck, panting softly before nibbling and tracing his sensitive spots with your tongue. The poor guy deserved all this after the day he'd had.

And all the frustration he'd built up pushed him over the edge. Miguel didn't take long to come, the sudden sensation of your warm walls enveloping him at last driving him to climax.

His hips were jerking, single powerful thrust pushing into your cunt as he came while you were consciously clenching your walls to make him enjoy it even more.

You lowered yourself and kissed him, his cock still twitching deep inside you, and you continued to undulate your pelvis against his. You deserved to keep going, he'd made a wet humping mess of you in turn, and you earned your satisfaction.

"I'm not done with you," you breathed, carrying on riding him.

You arched your back as you moved forward, and rounded your pelvis as you moved back, his dick filling you in all the right places as he made you breath out soft moans.

He looked at you almost bestially, his eyes tinged a carmine colour.

You were a goddess, a true miracle before his eyes, your gaze planted in his as he watched you, running his tongue over his fangs.

He straightened up, coming to sit as you continued to undulate your pelvis. He put his hand on your hips to guide you against him, kissing your breasts lovingly, your chest, his hair completely dishevelled.

All day you'd had this storm brewing in your stomach, with the winds blowing stronger and thunder rumbling in the distance angry of this impossibility for pleasure.

He brought his hand down between your two bodies, gently touching your clit and starting to make circular movements around it while he kissed your shoulder.

"You're so good for me, nena." he sighed against your hot skin.

The moans that came from within you were full of desire, the electrifying sensation of his fingers on your flesh making you see stars as you finally reached the point of orgasm.

The storm crashed into full force, your whole body vibrating as a powerful moan rocked your lips, Miguel grunting as your walls closed around him with intensity.

He watched you, cheek resting on your chest as you came down from all the sensations, his eyes riveted on your drunken expression of pleasure.

But you needed more, your hips starting to move again soon after, an almost pleading sigh escaping Miguel's lips as he nestled his head in your shoulder. It was going to be a long night, much to your delight.

1K notes · View notes

greynatomy · 4 months

Text

smileys

leah williamson x reader

happy bday bestie @alotofpockets

———

Leah sighed as she navigated her way through the aisles of the grocery store. Shopping list in one hand, basket perched upon her hip, trying to find all that she needs. Eyes kept to the list in her hand, she turned a corner and collided with a tall, dark-haired stranger, sending her basket full of potato smileys sprawling across the floor.

“Oh, god! I’m so sorry!” Leah exclaimed, bending down to pick up the bags of smiling potatoes. The stranger, rather than being upset, burst out in laughter.

“Guess we’re having a smiley party,” You said with a grin, helping Leah with the cleanup. The ridiculousness of the situation made her chuckle too.

Your eyes meet and Leah swore a spark of connection ignited. Placing all the groceries back in her basket, she stands back up realizing how much you tower over her. Freezing as she looks straight into your eyes, you couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh that seemed to break her out of her daze.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry. You must think I’m this clumsy creep.”

“Not at all.”

‘Fuck.’ Leah thought. The raspiness of your voice made her knees weak.

“I know this might be a bit forward but would you like to hang out with me today?” You ask, quickly adding, “Only if you aren’t busy.”

Leah agrees almost pathetically quickly that a red hue rises to her cheeks. Needing to get her groceries home, Leah told you to follow her home — as creepy as that sounds — and she’d just ride along with you.

You took her to your favorite bakery to get one of your favorite pastries. The day was filled with shits and giggles, the world around the both of you seemingly nonexistent.

The first date, however, was not one Leah had expected. She thought you’d be taking her somewhere fancy as it was where all her exes had taken her, but you’d driven her to an unknown — at least to her — destination.

“Are you sure you aren’t going to kill me in the middle of nowhere or something?”

You let out an airy chuckle. “Of course not. You’re too pretty for that.” Leah laughs softly, noticing how much you’ve been the cause of her laughters recently.

As the car came to a stop, she’s drawn to the bright neon lights on the building.

“Welcome to one of my favorite places!” You hold your arms out wide at your sides, standing in front of the building.

“You brought me to an arcade?”

“Yeah, why? You don’t like it? ‘Cause if you don’t then that’s a dealbreaker for me, mate.”

She just laughs, grabbing your hand to pull you inside. You were very competitive and tried to tone down your competitiveness but you came to learn that Leah was the same.

This was just the first of many dates and not one was spent in a boring fancy restaurant. Leah loved how unpredictable you were and not one day was dull.

Now, two years in, your spontaneous dates never died out. Taking turns on taking the other on dates, and definitely not trying to prove that one is more spontaneous than the other.

You were peacefully sleeping on your stomach, face smushed into the pillow when a weight drops onto your back.

“Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!”

The loud voice of your girlfriend wakes you up, making you grab her pillow to put on top of your head to hopefully muffle her out.

“Ugh!”

“C’mon! I’m being spontaneous, so get your ass out of bed!”

“You don’t have to wake me up at the ass crack of dawn to prove you’re spontaneous. You’re just being being annoying.”

When she doesn’t say anything, you try comfortable when the sheets were ripped away from on top of you.

“Leah!”

“Don’t be an buzzkill.”

“You should’ve advertised how much of a morning person you were before dumping all those smileys at me.” You grumbled, walking into the bathroom.

“I heard that!”

#woso x reader #woso #greynatomy #woso imagines #woso imagine #woso community #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #arsenal wfc #arsenal women

450 notes · View notes

1-800-c3dr1c · 4 months

Note

hiii, i have a request if they're openn

for luke castellan, a smut. he finds reader riding his pillow and mayne punish her? and he's a mean!dom

LUKE CASTELLAN SMUT ONESHOT.

submissive! reader. dominant! luke castellan. mean! luke castellan. female reader. reader is shorter than luke. established relationship (boyfriend and girlfriend). pillow humping/riding. unprotected sex. overstimulation. (lmk if i forgot anything)! ANOTHER WARNING, NSFW IS AHEAD.

requests are: open! please look at the pinned post for characters i will write for. <3 let me know if you’d like to be in my tag list for whenever i post anything related to luke castellan under this post or in my inbox, as well!

i hope you like this, anon!! (and anyone else reading ofc), let me know what you think! <3 this is also my first time writing for luke, so hopefully i do him some justice!

taglist : @ayoitsmarie33 @junos-web

while luke castellan was busy playing capture the flag and most likely winning, you were busy with something else. quiet whimpers left your parted lips as you struggled to keep yourself quiet, sitting on your boyfriend’s bed and grinding against his pillow for at least a bit of friction. you wanted something else in its entirety, but for now, you’d have to settle for this. your shorts discarded and your panties pushed to the side, your cunt leaking and begging for anything, especially from the boy you loved.

it was a shame that he wasn’t here, and you were strongly feeling the affect of his absence. covering your mouth with one hand, you used the other to support yourself.

“be quiet, dove.” that oh-so familiar voice startled you, your head snapping around as you instantly paused in your movements.

luke castellan, shed of the armor you’d seen him in just before the start of the capture the flag game, stood just a few feet behind you. his arms crossed, eyes narrowed.

“luke-” you started, in a futile attempt to explain what was going on without getting yourself in trouble.

“i know,” he leaned forward, tracing your jaw with a hand. “needed some release, hm? when the fuck will you learn?” his eyes darkened after the last sentence, a tint of anger laced in his tone. “my cock is the only thing that can make you cum. what the fuck do i have to do to make you understand that?” he spat in your face, catching your wrists and pinning them above your head with one of his hands. “nasty girl.” he drawled.

“wait, no, ‘m sorry!” you gasped, falling back onto his bed with a squeak.

“you’re sorry? sorry doesn’t fucking cut it. you should know that by now. you’re fucking pathetic.”

his words sent shivers down your spine, and you closed your eyes tightly.

“what the fuck have i said about not looking at me?” he instantly questioned, scoffing at you.

“t- to never close my eyes,” you whispered back, hesitantly letting your eyes flutter open.

he loomed above you, a cocky smirk on his face. “i think you should be punished.”

“wh- what?” you stammered, eyes widening.

“you fuckin’ heard me. how ‘bout i fuck you ‘til you’re dumb and all you can think about is my cock? bet that’s all you could think about when gettin’ off on this stupid pillow. the pillow doesn’t know your body, i do. so what the fuck made you think a fucking pillow could get you off?” he laughed in your face.

“i’m sorry, ‘m sorry!” you whimpered, squeezing your thighs together for friction. gods, he was being so cruel.

“you should be sorry. fuckin’ say it like you mean it.” he hissed out.

“i do!! i do mean it!” you whined.

“no you don’t.” is all he said before he leaned forward, kissing you so feverishly that any reply you may have had on your tongue was instantly melted away, just by how hot and desperate the kiss was.

you’d barely even realized—half-conscious just by his kisses alone—that he’d already taken off his pants, and was in the process of removing his boxers. when you did, your breath hitched.

“please..” you begged, wanting so desperately to tangle your fingers in his hair. however, due to your hands being restrained, you couldn’t.

“only good girls get what they want. you’re far from a good girl, dove.” he responded lowly.

“i’ll be a good girl, promise!” you were nearly blabbering, and he hadn’t even touched you.

“yeah, y’will?” it was almost as if you could feel the way he didn’t believe you. this was nothing new, after all. you claimed you’d be good, if only for tonight. and then you went back to being a fucking brat. despite that, you were his fucking brat. only his.

you nodded, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. he nearly smiled, finding your tears so, so pretty. “gonna cry, dove? go ahead. cry all you want. next thing, y’know, you’ll only be crying out my name and how you want me to stop fucking you,” he whispered, mouth now by your ear. “but we both know you’d be lying to the both of us.”

you swallowed, watching his expression. “nuh-uh..” you mumbled, wanting to look away. but you knew the rules. keep your eyes on him the entire time.

“yuh-uh,” he shot back, grinning at you. not a nice grin, no—one that told you that you were about to be fucked. literally, and figuratively speaking.

with his hot and bothered cock free from the confines of his boxers, he didn’t hesitate. lining himself up with your sopping cunt, not even needing to prep you due to how much slick was running out of your pussy and down your thighs, it was enough to make sure any pain you might have felt would be washed away almost instantly. he slid in slowly, his eyes never leaving yours.

“fuck.. luke!” you cried, already shaking. you were overstimulated due to the fact of you trying to get off on his pillow, and he knew as such. did he care? absolutely not. that only made him want to fuck into you so much more, to the point where you’d try to claw at his back and beg him to stop.

“shh,” he cooed, laughing in your face. “you can take it, you stupid girl. you’re just a hole for me to fill, yeah?” there was a glint in his eyes, something that told you he’d be far from done. you were practically gushing around his cock like a bitch in heat (his words, not your own) and he adored it.

“mhm!!” you nodded frantically, whining as you blabbered incoherently about how much you needed this. which was true, you had desperately needed this.

“fuuucckk,” he groaned, his thrusts speeding up. you gasped, trembling already. “mine. all fuckin’ mine. you know that, huh? don’t ever try to get pleasure from something that isn’t my cock, that isn’t my fingers, that isn’t my mouth. that’s all you’ll ever be pleasured by- fuck- and we both know it.” he leaned forward to capture your lips into a kiss to keep you quiet, your tongues in a battle for dominance—one you were obviously going to lose—and tangling with each other like this was your purpose.

“gonna cum, gonna-” you sobbed, gulping in large portions of air as you panted.

“c’mon, dove. be a good girl..” he grunted, “let me hear you.” he added, and you swore you could feel him. all of him, filling you to the absolute brim.

and fuck, did it feel so good. so much so, you clenched around his cock immediately, milking him for all he was worth as you came with a half-concealed scream, cut off by the way he shoved his fingers into your mouth to keep anyone from hearing you. your sounds were for his ears only, after all.

he stilled inside of you for a second, eyes half-lidded. your chest was rising and falling quickly, your cheeks tear-stained and puffy. “no more..” you choked out, knowing that he hadn’t cum yet himself.

“aw, i can’t do that. i haven’t cum, dove. you can take it all, right?”

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #luke x reader #luke castellan x reader smut #luke castellan smut #luke castellan #luke pjo

682 notes · View notes

lowkeyremi · 6 months

Note

Hi there!! I’ve read some of your works I they’re really good- you’re so talented and amazing 😭✋🏾

Bakugou x reader where he slips reader a letter telling her to proofread his letter to Santa and she’s like:??? but doesn’t judge bc she loves him, and it says that he’s asking Santa for a wife 😭🥰 and then when she looks down he’s on one knee 🥺

All I want for Christmas is You k. bakugo x fem!reader

a/n: THIS IS SO CUTE OMG IM GIGGLING STOPPPP i was about to say at his grown age he got a santa list but it made more sense after I read the rest :3

content: fluff, established relationship, bakugo is silly

The old grandfather clock that Katsuki insisted he needed chimes loudly to announce the arrival of the next hour. You were in the kitchen getting a little snack before winding down for bed.

As you continued preparing your snack your boyfriend made his presence know in the kitchen with his humming.

"What's that?" He asks looking over your shoulder.

"I'm trying something new." You explain, taking a look at it for yourself. Honestly, you don't know what to call it. His eyes travel down to your feet where he can see you aren't wearing socks or your house slippers.

"How many times do I have to tell ya to wear something on your feet? You'll get sick." He complains for the umpteenth time this week.

"Mhm I know. I need you to be quiet you're breaking my concentration." He finds it cute how your tongue is slightly poking out as you try to frost this.. interesting looking cupcake.

"Doesn't look like ya put much effort or thought into it but okay..." He clicks his tongue and you elbow him in the stomach. Of course it doesn't hurt though, because he's built like a marble statue.

"Anyways, I need you to read over this when your done. It's my wish list to Santa." You don't respond right away, waiting to see if he's going to say he's joking or something, but he doesn't. You put down the frosting bag and stare deep into his soul.

"Are you serious? I thought Santa wasn't real. At least that's what you told Denki and ruined his Christmas." You recall last year's Christmas party when Katsuki harshly broke the news to Denki. The blond had a mental break down.

"I've reconsidered what I'd said before. He's real 'n I've been real good this year so hopefully I'll get what I wished for." He emphasizes that for some odd reason.

"I wouldn't be too sure of that. Remember when you verbally assaulted that kid who said you look like a mean Pokémon character?" He grumbles something that you don't quite catch but you get what he means.

"Just read it." He says with a roll of his eyes. You stare at him once again.

"Ughhh be happy I love your ass. I have to stop my cupcakes to read a santa list??? How old are you five?" He knows you aren't mad which is why he holds out the red envelope for you to take.

He watches you intently as you gently tear open the envelope. You pull out a piece of paper, which reads:

Dear Santa,

It's me. Bakugo.

The only thing I want for Christmas is a pretty wife who will stay with me through thick and thin. Who's also annoying and banned from going to sleep after me because of her terrible pranks.

Thanks.

As you finish reading it you're in shock. You lower the letter from your view to see your boyfriend on one knee, a pretty ring being presented to you in a very exquisite box.

"So.. will you help Santa out? Make my wish come true?" He's shaking and he looks so vulnerable it touches your heart.

You already know your answer but who would you be if you didn't give the man a run for his money.

"Well I don't know, Santa still needs to receive the letter then he'll probably come to me and we'll talk." You say crossing your arms. Katsuki glares at you and you smile back.

"Of course I will!! I mean who else would do it if not for me?" He rolls his eyes so hard you feel it.

"I could get anyone to marry me in seconds." He scoffs while putting the ring on your finger.

"All this talk and it took you 7 years to finally pop the question." Before he even gets another word out you lean down to press a soft kiss onto his lips.

"Merry Christmas, hubby." You say with a snort.

"Way to ruin a romantic moment and hubby is not going to be a new nickname."

jokes on him hubby stuck around for a long time :3

456 notes · View notes

gigabyte-flare · 3 months

Text

He Comes Alive (Part 9) [FINALE]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Summary: You are found by Ada Wong, an agent from the BSAA sent to escort you to Tricell's laboratories. They promise to remove the plaga from you and your unborn child, but only if you help them first.

Word Count: 8.5k

Pairing: vampire/plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: Biting, blood, gore, murder, unprotected p in v, masterbation, oral (m and f receiving), stalking, pet names, kidnapping, breeding kink, blood play/kink, age gap, dubcon, pregnancy, monster f*cking, body horror, lactation kink, C-Section DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT

A quick reminder that I no longer do tag lists

Author's Note at the end!

You scramble back over to the driver’s side upon hearing the woman say ‘BSAA’ and open the door, climbing out of the truck. You see in addition to the red button up v-neck top and black gloves, she’s wearing black leather pants with knee high black boots with heels. She has a pistol in a shoulder holster. You watch her brown eyes shift to your hands.

“You’re infected,” she says; it’s not a question.

You look down at your hands, the inky veins pulsating, letting out a subtle gasp before hiding your hands in the sleeves of your shirt.

“Hopefully you’re not too far along to do something about it. Grab your bag; we’re leaving,” the woman called Ada commands.

You reach into the truck, grabbing the back pack before shutting the door of the truck, following closely behind Ada.

“Wait, Leon can’t be that close by, can he?” you ask.

“No but there’s an APB on that truck and we don’t want to be around when the cops finally catch up,” Ada replies as she leads you to a black Chevy Corvette, “get in.”

You open up the passenger side door, tossing your backpack onto the floor before getting inside. Ada gets into the driver’s seat, starting the car before getting back on the highway. The two of you are silent for a while, you rest your head on the passenger’s side window, watching the scenery outside as you mindlessly caress your belly.

Surprisingly, Ada breaks the silence, “is that Leon’s?”

You look over at Ada before glancing down at your belly, letting out a sorrowful sigh, “yeah… it is. I’m surprised you didn’t already know, being with the BSAA and all…”

“I didn’t have a lot of time to get filled in when I was sent to find you,” Ada replies, keeping her eyes on the road as she drives.

“Is… Clive ok?” you ask hesitantly, looking back over at Ada.

“As far as I know, he’s fine.”

“Can I talk to him, possibly? Once we get to wherever we’re going… that is…”

“Unfortunately that won’t be possible. I’ve been instructed to bring you to Tricell’s laboratories in upstate New York. We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”

You shift in your seat uncomfortably before looking back out the window.

Ada looks over to you for a moment before continuing, “don’t worry. We’ll stop at a motel or two to rest up, I’m sure you need it.”

“What’s Tricell?”

Ada pauses briefly before answering, “it’s a… multi-industrial company, mostly dabbling in pharmaceutical and biomechanical research. They fund the efforts of the BSAA.”

You nod, feeling your eyes grow heavy as you drift to sleep. You awaken when the car suddenly comes to a stop. Confused, you look over at Ada, still only half awake.

“I found a motel. Stay here and I’ll get us checked in,” Ada says before getting out of the car.

You watch her walk up to the motel office, opening the door to go inside. After a few minutes of waiting, you watch her come back out, dangling a key in one hand and motioning for you to go with her with the other. You open the car door, grabbing your bag as you climb out and shut the door, following her into the motel room.

Upon entering, Ada switches on one of the lamps next to the full size bed to give the two of you some light, the red lampshade casting an eerie glow in the room. You set your bag down on the floor next to the bed, practically collapsing into a nearby arm chair, letting out a loud sigh.

“How long have you been seeing Leon?” Ada asks, walking towards you and sitting on the side of the bed opposite of you.

“Since like… September or October I think… so much has happened; everything is a blur.”

Ada nods, her gaze shifting to her feet, “I see…”

“Do you… know Leon?”

Her eyes shift back up to yours before nodding, “I do… it’s complicated.”

One of Ada’s hands reaches up, pulling her v-neck aside a little until you can see what looks like a large burn scar, causing your breath to hitch.

“I met Leon in Raccoon City during a viral outbreak 15 years ago, crossing paths occasionally. A couple years ago, he and I hooked up and that’s when I found out he was still infected with Las Plagas. He had infected me.”

“And that scar is…?” you ask, swallowing hard to stifle your nerves.

“When it was removed by Tricell. Assuming you’re not too far along, they should be able to do the same for you, too.”

You look down at your hands, the faint inky veins still showing, pulsating. You clench your fists and tuck them back into your sleeves.

“I hope so…”

You wrap your arms around yourself, breathing deeply to calm yourself. The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes until your curiosity gets the better of you.

“What was Leon like before… you know…”

Ada smirks, chuckling a little before responding, “at first? Like a little lost puppy. He was a rookie cop who was late for his first day on the force; unfortunate that he had to deal with a zombie outbreak on his first day of being a cop--”

“Wait a second… zombies?!”

Ada blinks at you a few times before continuing, “right… I forgot that wasn’t public information. Yes, zombies. The whole city had gotten infected with a virus developed by the Umbrella Corporation.”

“That big pharmaceutical company that went under? It was because they made a virus?”

“A bio-organic weapon,” Ada corrects you before continuing, “anyway, Leon became more charismatic as he got older; became quite the ladies man. Had the looks for it, too, as you clearly saw.”

You can’t help but smirk at that.

“But he had a heart of gold; it’s a shame that--”

Before Ada can finish her sentence, your head starts pounding. You cry out, gripping the sides of your head. Your eyes also start watering.

Ẅ̷͇h̸̬̪̐ē̴̦͠r̸̢̦̕ē̷̻͜ ̴̨͆ȃ̶̆͜r̴̮̈̈͜ē̴̡͋ ̴̢̞̒͂ÿ̵̨́ö̴̹́u̷͖̕͝?̸̰̎͐!̶̥̋́

“Fuck off!” you scream, the pounding in your head getting progressively worse as your finger nails dig into the sides of your head.

I̸̼̓ ̴̨̍a̴̙͌m̷̖͑ ̸̛͖g̶͓̃o̴̦̓i̵̬͗n̶̦̒ģ̵̒ ̷̳͒ẗ̴͈́o̷̘̒ ̸͓͊f̸̤͊i̶̞͛ń̸̲d̴͇̒ ̶̙͌y̵̪͒o̶̰͝u̸̲̇.̵̹̒

“Shit!” Ada says, standing up from the bed and rushing to you, one hand grasping your shoulder while the other swings up, holding something that looks kind of like a pen.

You feel a sudden sting in the side of your neck and what follows is instant relief. The pounding in your head subsides. You let go of your head and look down at your hands, seeing the inky veins slowly fade.

“Thank god I brought that with me,” Ada says, taking a step back and looking down at the device she just used on you.

“What is that?” you ask, out of breath from your ordeal.

“An inhibitor. It will slow the progression of the plaga, but not for long. We need to get you to the Tricell lab and fast,” Ada steps aside, motioning to the bed, “get some rest, we’ll get on the road first thing in the morning.”

“Right…”

You stand up from the chair, your body still weak from the outburst you just endured, staggering over to the bed and collapsing onto it on your side, falling asleep within minutes.

Ada waits until she knows the girl is asleep before stepping outside. She looks around, spotting a pay phone at the end of the walkway in front of the motel rooms. She walks up to it, digging a couple quarters from her pocket and feeding them into the machine. Picking up the receiver, she dials a number. It rings a few times before answering to dead silence.

“It’s me.”

“Do you have the girl?” a man asks, his voice rough, but full of authority.

“I do, however there’s one problem,” Ada replies.

“I don’t do problems, Ada, you know that,” the man growls.

Ada rolls her eyes, “Listen, Simmons, it’s not my fault. She’s infected and the plaga is taking over at an alarming rate. I had to use the inhibitor Luis gave me.”

There’s silence for a moment, she can almost picture Derek Simmons, the National Security Advisor for the President of the United States, stroking his chin in thought while wearing that ridiculous ring on his hand.

“We proceed according to plan.”

“What about her?” Ada asks, the alarm evident in her voice, “if we don’t do something, she’ll be completely under Leon’s control.”

“Ada… are you trying to tell me you’re concerned about the girl?”

Fuck you asshole… Ada curses internally, her eyebrows furrowing as her hand squeezes the handset on the phone. She quickly comes up with a plan.

“What if we make a deal with her? We use her as bait to lure Leon to us in exchange for removing the plaga from her.”

Again, Simmons pauses, probably mulling over Ada’s idea. Then she hears his trademark chuckle, causing chills to run down her spine.

“I like how you think, Ada. That should work beautifully. To add to it, Dr. Sera believes he’ll be able to extract the plaga from her unborn child as well; that’ll make Wesker happy at least.”

Ada can’t help but smile, “that’s great, that will give her more than enough of a reason to cooperate in Leon’s capture.”

“Now then, hurry up and get the girl here, the clock is ticking.”

Ada hangs up the pay phone, turning around to head back inside the motel room. She walks up to the armchair that the girl had been sitting in earlier and sits down. She tries to rest her eyes, but sleep eludes her; instead, she watches the girl sleep. She’s sleeping on her side, her shoulder slowly rising and falling with each breath she takes. Her eyes slowly shift to her belly, which is clearly visible under the blanket. Despite only being a few months along, she appears to be almost to term; the work of the plaga, no doubt.

Ada’s thoughts shift to Leon and she finds herself reminiscing. From that bright, shy, yet noble police officer fresh from the academy to an abomination hell bent on ensuring the survival of its species, she finds her heart breaking for him. The Leon Scott Kennedy she knew was dead and gone, corrupted by the plaga inside him.

She doesn’t realize she nodded off until she hears the girl whimper in her sleep, jolting her awake in the chair. The girl’s eyes are squeezing themselves shut, her hand gripping into the sheets as her body trembles, the tell tale dark veins pulsating on her hand. Cursing to herself, she looks over at the clock on the bedside table, reading just after 4AM. There’s no time to wake her up, they need to leave and get to the lab immediately.

Ada springs up from the chair, tossing the blankets off the girl and carefully picking her up bridal style. Ada kicks the door open, making her way over to her Corvette, struggling to get the door open. She sits the girl in the passenger’s seat once she gets the door open and rushes over to the driver’s side. She turns the ignition, the car roaring to live which causes the girl to rouse from her slumber.

“Ada…? What’s going on…?” the girl asks, her voice soft.

“I’ve got to get you to the lab, just hang tight.”

Ada pushes her foot on the brake, reaching her other hand to the stick shift to put the car into drive. Her gaze shifts to the rear view mirror; what she sees chills her straight to her core. Standing just inside the edge of the forest, illuminated by the red brake lights of her car, is Leon. The front of his shirt coated in what she can only assume is blood, his mouth hanging agape as blood drips from it, showing off his elongated incisors. The more she looks, the worse it gets; she spots his tail whipping back and forth and four large claws coming out of his back, outstretched.

“What’s wrong?” the girl asks, panic starting to settle into her voice as she wakes up.

“Nothing,” Ada replies sharply, furrowing her brows, throwing the car into drive and slamming her foot on the gas.

The car peels out of the parking lot, turning sharply to get back onto the main road. She has no idea how fast she’s going and she doesn’t care. She has at least another two hours of driving to do, if not more and time is of the essence. She knew the inhibitor wouldn’t last forever, but she’s alarmed that it wore off that quickly and by the fact that Leon had tracked her down that fast; she had driven well over a hundred miles before stopping at the motel.

She has no intention of stopping now. She can already hear Simmons scolding her for not using the opportunity to capture him, but it was too dangerous, she would need backup. That was the first time she had seen him transformed like that and as much as she hated to admit it, it had shaken her.

By some miracle, she doesn’t run into a single police car and the two of them arrive at Tricell Laboratories safely, more or less. She looks over to the girl just as she parks the car.

“Can you walk?” Ada asks as she opens the driver’s side door.

“I… I think so…” the girl replies, her voice weak.

It’s still the early hours of the morning, the sun is just barely starting to brighten the sky, so it’s no surprise to Ada that those inky veins are sprawled all over the girl’s exposed skin. Ada practically jumps out of the car, rushing over to the passenger’s side to help the girl out, wrapping an arm around her waist to help steady her balance as she guides her over to the Tricell building. Upon getting to the door, Ada slams the side of her fist into the call button, and a few seconds later, a voice comes through the speaker.

“State your business,” says a gruff male voice.

“It’s Ada Wong. I have the girl but she needs medical attention immediately.”

A loud buzzing sound comes from the door and Ada kicks the door open and rushes the two of you inside. Within moments, a group of men and women in lab coats come rushing in, pushing a stretcher with them. Ada guides the girl to the stretcher and several of the lab technicians help the girl lay onto the stretcher. Ada’s eyes shift to one of them in particular, an older man with dark skin and long dark hair. She watches as he pulls an inhibitor from his lab coat pocket, jabbing it into the side of the girl’s neck, injecting the serum into her.

“You got her here just in time,” he says to Ada; he has a thick Hispanic accent.

“I wasn’t sure if we we’re going to make it, Luis…” Ada says, her breaths heavy.

“Take her into one of the infirmary rooms and prep her for surgery; make sure you have the UV lights on,” Luis commands the other technicians, watching as they wheel the stretcher away.

“You won’t be able to operate yet,” Ada says once she and Luis are alone in the hallway.

Luis looks to her, raising an eyebrow at her, “and why not?”

“Simmons wants to use her as bait to lure Leon into Tricell’s custody.” Ada says as the two of them begin to walk down the hallway together.

“What does he need Leon for? Does this have to do with why that pompous prick is helping Wesker with Uroboros--”

Ada stops in her tracks, grabbing Luis by his upper arm, squeezing it as she snaps at him in a hushed tone, “keep your voice down!”

Luis glances around to make sure no one is in earshot before continuing, “what on Earth would he want with Leon?”

“I have no idea, something nefarious, no doubt. But I’d much rather keep my head than question him and get on his bad side,” Ada replies, the two of them resuming their walk down the hall.

They come upon a set of doors; Luis swipes a keycard into the receptacle next to the door and the doors slide open, the two of them walking inside what appears to be a laboratory. Once inside, Ada lets herself relax a little, however the image of Leon in the red glow of her brake lights comes rushing back to her, causing her to visibly shiver. Luis looks over at her, once again raising an eyebrow at her.

“I saw him, Luis…” Ada says, her gaze shifting to make eye contact with him, “he’s on par with Saddler.”

“Shit…” Luis mutters under his breath, grabbing a pack of cigarettes and a silver lighter, putting one in his mouth and lighting it.

“What I don’t understand is… if Leon was still infected when he rescued Ashley, why didn’t he go brain dead like the others when he killed Saddler?”

Luis takes a long drag from his cigarette, grabbing it from his lips before exhaling a large cloud of smoke, “Leon and Ashley were infected with a special kind of plaga, ones that could act independently once fully turned. My guess? The plaga inside Leon could sense it was the last of its kind and mutated into a dominant, giving it the ability to infect others and breed.”

“I see…” Ada replies, her eyes looking to the floor absentmindedly as she wraps her arms around herself.

“What I don’t understand is why didn’t he tell anyone? Did he even know he was still infected? I could have saved him… it should have been me running the machine, not Ashley…”

“There’s no use beating yourself up over it. It was nine years ago--”

“But he saved my life, Ada!” Luis exclaims, throwing his hands up, “I should have died that day in the mines, the least I could have done was meet him in the lab and run the machine; that burden should never have been on the girl’s shoulders...”

The two of them stand in silence in an unspoken agreement to drop the subject. Ada drops her arms to her sides and starts to walk over to the doors leading out of the lab.

“I’m going to go check on the girl, are you coming or not?”

Upon opening your eyes, you're immediately blinded by not only bright fluorescent lights, but by the purple hue of powerful ultraviolet lights, causing you to wince and softly groan. However, your eyes quickly adjust and you attempt to sit up in the bed you’re in, only to find you are hooked up to all kinds of medical equipment.

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

You turn your head towards the familiar voice, finding Ada standing next to your bed, her arms crossed as she looks down at you. Relief washes over you, as the last thing you could recall prior to waking up was the immense pain rushing through your body and Leon’s voice pounding in your brain.

“Ok… considering…” you reply, your voice hoarse and your throat dry.

You unconsciously lick your lips, finding them chapped and sore.

“Here,” says another voice with a strong Hispanic accent, “I got some water for you.”

You turn your head to the opposite side of the bed, finding a man with longer, dark hair and tanned skin; he’s holding out a glass of water to you, which you don’t hesitate in taking and gulping down.

“This is Dr. Sera, one of Tricell’s lead scientists,” Ada explains, motioning one of her arms towards the man.

“Please… just call me Luis. I’ve never been one for formalities,” he replies smiling at you, “how do you feel about getting an ultrasound done?”

You slowly nod, taking deep breaths, “I feel ok enough to do that, but what for?”

“I believe that we may be able to save your child. Depending on the development of the fetus, we might be able to extract the plaga and spare your child’s life. That’s my hope anyway. Then, afterwards, we can remove the plaga from you as well.”

Your heart skips a beat. The possibility of being able to save your unborn child didn’t even cross your mind, it gave you hope for the first time since this madness started.

“Absolutely, if there’s any chance of saving my baby, I’ll take it,” you reply, the hope within you energizing you further.

“Alright, let me just bring over the ultrasound machine, señorita.” Luis says, walking over to the opposite side of the room.

Your tired eyes watch him attentively, feeling Ada place her hand on your shoulder, gently rubbing it.

“Alright! Let’s say hello to little Kennedy, shall we?” Luis says, his tone cheerful as he positions the machine next to your bed before powering it on.

You watch Luis take out a bottle of gel, using his other hand to lift your shirt over your swollen belly. He rubs the gel onto your belly, the cold gel causing you to flinch slightly. Grabbing the wand for the ultrasound machine, he presses it into your belly, moving it around slowly while watching the screen. At first, you don’t really see anything on the screen but then suddenly, you see her.

The clear image of your unborn child comes up onto the monitor; your eyes frantically searching for anything that would appear off about her. You weren’t sure what to expect; a tail… claws… but you see neither of those things. For all you knew, she looked like a normal, healthy baby. Your gaze shifts over to Luis, who has a subtle smile on his lips.

“The baby is almost to term and no sign of late stage infestation; I truly believe if we deliver soon, we have a chance of safely extracting the plaga from your child,” Luis explains, a hint of hope in his voice.

“That’s great, let’s deliver right away!” you ask, your tone eager.

“That’s the thing…” Ada interjects, “Tricell needs you to do something for them before Luis can deliver your baby, remove the plaga from them and from you.”

Your heart immediately sinks, your hand unconsciously rubbing your belly despite it still being covered in that gel, “Like… what…?”

“We need your help to lure Leon into Tricell custody. We can’t have him running amok any longer and risk him killing and infecting more people. Can you do that for us?”

Of course they’re using you as bait…

You close your eyes, taking in a deep breath and mulling over your options. If you don’t agree to this, the only thing that awaits you and your unborn child is death. You truly have no other choice.

“Yes. I’ll do it.”

He watches her through the spaces of the grocery store rack, his body tingling with excitement; so much so he can barely contain himself. He was also doing his best to hide his presence from her, but with the sun beginning to set, that was becoming increasingly difficult. Her back is facing him as she browses the breakfast cereal aisle, completely oblivious to the azure eyes watching her every move from behind the grocery aisle behind her.

His eyes remain locked on her as she turns to the right, walking out of the aisle carrying a small basket full of various items. She walks up to the cash register, paying for her items before leaving the store, making sure to hang back quite a bit to avoid being seen. He watches her climb into a small sedan and he gets into his “borrowed” car, following behind the sedan as it pulls out of the parking lot.

Again, he tries to remain a decent distance away as to not raise her suspicions; but now that he is in the comfort of his own vehicle, he allows himself to let loose, the inky veins spreading across his skin and his eyes shifting to crimson, softly glowing in the low light inside his car.

The sun has completely set by the time he watches his quarry pull into a hotel parking lot, parking his car in such a way so he can watch her car and the front door of the hotel. He watches her get out of the car, carrying a grocery bag in one hand. His breath hitches upon seeing her pregnant form.

“Daddy gets to see you soon, Nora…” he says softly to himself, his grasp tightening on the steering wheel.

Closing his eyes, he focuses his thoughts on you, penetrating your mind with ease; his gift almost having its hold on you completely.

T̷̨̠͚̜͖͂̈́͌̋͗h̷̛̗̮̘̖̰̊͝e̴̛̯̐ ̶̫͇̻̱͑̾͘͠ṛ̸̡̘̒̔̑͠͝ͅͅo̷̝̅͐̔̑͠ö̴͖̙̺́̍͌̀͠m̶̖̭̈́̽̊͜ ̸̟̣̰̉̊͆i̴̢̓̓̚͘͝s̴͕̮͛̅̔̽.̶͖̙̜̏͘.̴̨̼̣̑̈́͝.̵̲͓̫̫̔ ̶͙̓̅y̷̧̞̓̂ë̶͙́̑͛̂̚s̸̠̊͌ ̷̧̨̕ͅI̶̢͓̼̲̍̅̀́ ̵̰͌̔͐́c̵̩̹̻̀̈̈́h̶̹͓͎̣͛̈́͝ë̷͔̦̮̮c̵͕͑̀͐ḱ̴̹͕̃ ̷̯̈͠o̵̱̺̩͔͎͆̈́͘u̸̝̳͆̋̓͂t̷͔̪͚̮̤͑͂̂̋̑.̷͕̈́̾͘.̶͙͔̖͈̈́̅̋.̶͔̥̤̩̖́͐̈͊͂ ̷̩̪͖̮̈́͜ȓ̸̜̒͛͑͝ǒ̷̹̲͇̏̀͋o̵̦̖̻̬͂͌m̶̯̒͋̀̂ ̵̛̝̙̰̇̉̀͘1̶̤͕̤̌̅̐͝0̶̻͚̰̝̤͐0̸̛͈͈̖͖́̓͘͝6̵͎̥͊͠?̸̛͎͕̜̊̂̚͠ ̷̘̉͋̈T̵̞̋̇̋ḩ̸̺̄͊͠ȃ̷͕͈̪n̴̠̙͂̈́̀́̄k̷̛͈͙̂̌ ̶͎͓͖̌͝ͅỳ̴͕̬̳̖o̸̫̪͉̜̅͜-̴̗̞͆̍̀̇-̴̢̹̣͂͐̊

A smirk crosses his lips as he withdraws from her mind. Now that he has your room number, getting inside should be simple. He waits another couple of hours before making his move. Getting out of his car, the inky veins no longer visible, he nonchalantly walks into the hotel, walking right up to the front desk to a tired looking receptionist. He glances over to the clock; it’s 11:00pm.

“Hi there,” he begins, leaning against the front desk, “my wife checked in a few hours ago. I broke down on my way here so I wasn’t able to meet her here like we originally planned. I imagine she’s sleeping now and I don’t want to wake her; think I can get a copy of the key?”

The receptionist lets out a loud sigh, rubbing her temples, “what’s the room number, mister?”

“1006.”

He watches the receptionist dig inside a drawer before pulling a key out that has a tag on it with 1006 printed on it, “here you are, enjoy your stay…”

“Thank you very much,” Leon says cheerfully as he swipes the key from her before walking over to the elevator, hitting the up button.

The elevator doors open and he steps inside, hitting the button for the 10th floor, putting his hands in his denim pockets as the elevator ascends. The doors open and he steps into the hallway, quickly finding room 1006. Putting the key into the door knob, he turns it slowly and enters the dark room, quietly closing the door behind him.

As he had suspected, she’s sleeping soundly in the king size bed on her side, facing away from the door. A smile appears on his lips as he approaches the bed, sitting down onto it and gently caressing your arm with the tips of his fingers. She stirs, rolling over to see what he can only assume are his soft glowing red eyes. She inhales deeply to scream, and he slaps his hand over her mouth, pressing his index finger to his lips, softly shushing her.

“Hey, hey, hey… I’m not going to hurt you,” he reassures her, “there’s nothing to be afraid of, angel.”

He watches her gaze shift to her arms, now sprawling with the dark veins. She starts to hyperventilate, tears threatening to fall from the corners of her eyes. His hand comes up to cup her cheek, using his thumb to wipe away her tears.

“Please don’t cry, I promise you, it’s going to be ok. The gift will bring us closer together, I assure you.”

“B-But…” you stammer, her eyes locking onto his, completely enveloped in fear, “I don’t want to hurt anyone…”

“Oh sweetheart…” he says with a sigh, shifting closer to her and wrapping his arms around her, giving a soft kiss to the top of her head and he runs his fingers through her hair, “I’ll do all the hunting for us, you don’t need to worry about hurting anyone.”

He places his hand on her belly, feeling his unborn child stir from his touch, instantly warming his heart.

“Look at you, growing our baby girl so well. So beautiful…” he coos, lifting your chin with his fingers before kissing you deeply.

He gently coaxes her to lay onto the bed. Sitting up on his knees momentarily, he pulls his shirt off over his head, tossing it aside before he then begins to remove the rest of his clothing. Once nude he cages her body with his own, the parasitic veins sprawling and pulsing across his skin as he gently removes her clothing as well.

“Let me show you how beautiful our gift is, angel,” he purrs, gently pulling your legs apart.

He wastes no time propping her legs onto his shoulders, practically diving into her pussy, running his tongue over her slit, stopping on her clit to suck the sensitive bud. He feels her thighs quiver on his shoulders and before long, he can hear her soft moans fill the room; music to his ears.

Letting out a low growl into her clit, he brings his hand up to gently stroke her slit before pushing two fingers inside her, curving them upwards. Her hips buck upwards in response, her entire body tensing up. He watches in delight as the veins on her skin grow darker, the gift further ensnaring her.

With a loud moan, he feels her come undone on his fingers, her juices heavily coating his fingers. He pulls them out, licking his fingers clean before he proceeds to climb onto her. As he settles his hips between her legs, his tail snakes out from his lower back, gently moving from side to side. He watches your eyes widen in fear, but he quickly brings his hands to her cheeks, gently caressing them.

“Please… don’t be afraid, angel,” he coos as he sheathes himself inside her.

In that instant, his back claws burst from his back, acting as a cage around her as he begins to thrust into her slowly. He stares down at her longingly, one of his hands gently caressing her belly. With each thrust, he increases the speed and intensity. He closes his eyes, leaning his head back and letting out a low groan as he inches closer and closer to his release.

The sound of a gun cocking, followed quickly by the feeling of a barrel being pressed into the back of his skull causes him to stop instantly. A low growl emanates from the back of his throat, his lips twitching and curling into a snarl as his eyes slowly open. He doesn’t even need to turn around to see who it is pointing a gun at the back of his head.

Ada Wong.

“Well, well, well… that’s one hell of a greeting,” Leon practically snarls, “couldn’t even wait until I came, fucking bitch.”

“Wow, when did you become such a prick, Leon?” Ada replies, the smirk on her face audible in her voice.

“The moment you discarded my gift, Ada,” he replies, another growl coming out of him, “what do you want?”

“Come quietly, that’s all I ask,” she says simply, pushing the gun into his head harder.

“Let me guess, you told my angel that you were with the BSAA, didn’t you?” Leon says, a smirk crossing his lips, “why don’t you tell her who you’re really working for.”

“Don’t listen to him,” she snaps, “it’s the parasite talking, he’s full of shit.”

“Ada…” his angel says softly, her gaze shifting over to Ada, “what is he talking about…?”

“Really Ada? How long have we known each other?”

“Are you going to cooperate or not, Leon? Stop wasting time.”

Leon sighs heavily, pulling himself out of his angel, his plaga appendages receding back into his body as he stands up straight, “If I go with you, promise me whoever you’re working for won’t hurt my baby.”

At first, Ada doesn’t respond, but he hears her exhale, “I can promise it won’t be intentionally killed, how about that?”

“Fine. Let me get my clothes back on.”

Arms and legs chained together and a crude metal mask covering the lower half of his face, Leon is led through the halls of Tricell Laboratories like some kind of wild animal. The armed guards lead him into a solid white observation room. On the back wall, there are shackles which are promptly put on his arms and legs upon being brought to them. The chains and mask are then removed and the guards quickly leave.

To Leon’s relief, they don’t have any UV lights on, so he allows himself to relax a little, his dark veins sprawling across his skin and his eyes shifting to crimson. For hours, he leans against the wall, unconsciously licking his upper canines and shifting on his feet occasionally.

Please let my angel and Nora be ok… he thinks to himself, closing his eyes.

The sound of the door across from him opening snaps him from his thoughts. He opens his eyes, immediately narrowing them upon seeing who has entered the room. He begins to growl.

“Derek Simmons… what on Earth are you doing here?”

“My, my… how the mighty have fallen,” Derek begins, standing several feet in front of Leon, crossing his arms and letting out a low chuckle, “it’s been awhile, Leon Scott Kennedy.”

“Answer the fucking question, Simmons!” Leon growls.

“I wouldn’t say working with him, it’s more like we both have a mutual interest in your condition. Wesker’s hopes are that the DNA extracted from you will help with his Uroboros project,” Derek explains, mindlessly spinning the large ring on his left thumb.

“Officially? I’m here to oversee your execution. Off the record, however, I’m here to watch you suffer as you become Wesker’s little pet project.”

“You’re working with Wesker?!”

“The fuck is Uroboros?”

“Dunno, you’d have to ask him yourself. Like I said, I just want to see you suffer, Agent Kennedy.”

“Fucking bastard…” Leon mutters to himself, glaring at him, feeling the plaga within him writhe in rage, begging to be unleashed, “what are they going to do with my angel and my daughter?”

“For starters, they’re going to attempt to extract the plaga from your unborn child, which will be used to further assist in Wesker’s ambitions, then, I believe the plan is to rid your darling ‘angel’ of your so-called ‘gift.’ She’s quite pretty, that one. I must say you sure know how to pick them, Leon.”

“You so much as lay a hair on her…”

“And you’ll what? You’re trapped here, Leon. Trapped like the fucking animal you are! You’re so pathetic, you’re not even half the man that lovely young lady deserves,” Derek taunts him, a sinister grin on his lips.

“Oh really?” Leon growls once more, his fists clenching.

He rushes forward, catching himself on his restraints, now within inches of Simmons. His tail bursts out of his back, taking a swing at Simmons’ neck, however he was able to take another step back to avoid the hit just in time. His back claws then burst from his back, his hands transforming into dark claws as he continues to fight against the shackles keeping him restrained. The sound of metal bending reverberates throughout the room as he further transforms. Leon lets out a loud roar, showing off his large and sharp incisors before his lower jaw splits in half, mandibles coming out of his mouth and his tongue elongated.

“How about now, Simmons?” Leon replies, his voice rough and distorted due to his transformation.

Simmons’ smug expression quickly morphs into one of concern as he continues to move away from Leon. The sound of metal breaking echoes in the room and in an instant, Leon pounces on Simmons, the sound of the chains dragging behind him.

“God dammit someone get in here and get him off me! He’s gonna-- ACK!”

Leon wastes no time in ripping out Simmons’ throat, his long tongue lapping up the blood hemorrhaging from his neck. Guards then come swarming in, firing several shots of tranquilizers into him. It takes a couple minutes for it to take effect on him. He knows they’ll punish him for this but it was worth it to finally get back at Simmons for accusing him of murdering the president some time ago, a B.O.W. attack perpetrated by Simmons himself that killed the president and resulted in the deaths of 70,000 innocent townsfolk. That was when Leon had gone on the run; Simmons had found out Leon was still infected with Las Plagas and used him as a scapegoat.

Leon closes his eyes as his face shifts back to normal, slumping onto the ground as he loses consciousness.

The loud cries of a newborn pull you from unconsciousness, your eyes fluttering open. Your eyes shift around the room before settling on the baby in Luis’ arms, caked in your blood and who knows what other fluids.

“Would you look at that, a healthy baby girl!” Luis exclaims, grabbing a towel from one of the lab assistants and wrapping the baby in it.

Luis walks over to you, you weakly hold your arms out to your baby, cradling her in your arms as Luis hands her off to you. She calms down instantly, you suspect because of the plaga you both share still. She has Leon’s blonde hair, however her eyes are still shut so you’re unsure what color her eyes are yet.

“Alright, I’ve got to take her to remove that pesky plaga,” he says before motioning to his assistant, “you know what to do. Get her stitched up and bring her to the removal machine and blast that plaga into hell.”

Nervousness quickly grabs hold of you, knowing there was a chance your baby would not survive the procedure, but Luis seemed very confident it could be done, so you have no choice but place your faith in him.

“Got a name picked out yet?” Luis asks, smiling warmly at you.

You look over at your baby, sleeping soundly in Luis’ arms, a warm feeling enveloping you as you reply, “her name is Nora.”

“Well then, little Nora, let’s go get that bug out of you, shall we?” Luis says to Nora as he carries her out of the room.

The assistant sews up the incision made to perform the c-section to remove your baby in record time before wheeling your bed out into the hallway. You’re then brought into a darkened room and you see a machine with a laser like apparatus on it. The assistant rolls your bed beneath the machine, positioning the arm of the laser at your chest.

“I’m going to warn you, this is going to be extremely painful. You most likely will faint. Let me know when you’re ready, ok?”

You take a couple of deep breaths, doing your best to calm your nerves before you finally nod, “I’m ready.”

The assistant flips a couple switches and you hear the machine whirl to life. Within seconds there’s a bright flash and then you feel what has to be the worst pain you’ve ever felt in your life. You let out a blood curdling scream, your hands gripping the arms on your bed so tight that your hands cramp up. Your eyes then roll into the back of your head and you pass out into a dreamless sleep.

Luis is holding up the plaga extracted from Nora, the procedure having been a success as he had anticipated. The child and her mother now resting together in one of the rooms. He looks perplexed as he examines it, turning the glass container that it’s being kept in.

“What’s the matter Dr. Sera?” one of his assistants asks, noticing the look on Luis’ face.

“I feel like something is off about this specimen. Like something is missing,” Luis replies, rubbing his chin with his fingers in the opposite hands as he continues to examine the plaga.

“We triple checked Dr. Sera, the entire plaga was extracted from the child. You have nothing to worry about,” his assistant reassures him.

“You’re right, I’m just overthinking, that’s all…” Luis replies, setting the container down onto his desk before walking towards the door, “let’s go get some celebratory drinks, drinks’er on me.”

On his desk next to the container is a diagram of the Las Plagas parasite, each part meticulously labeled. If one were to closely inspect this diagram and the parasite in the container, they would realize that the diagram had something the specimen did not:

A head.

December 25th, 1998… Ten years later…

You watch as Nora rips open her last Christmas present, your smile going from ear to ear as you hold your coffee to your lips. Nora gasps upon seeing the PlayStation logo on the box.

“No… shut up! No you didn’t, Mom!” Nora exclaims, ripping off the rest of the wrapping paper.

Other things were wrapped with the game console; a game and a memory card.

“You got me Spyro the Dragon! Thank you so much, Mom! Best Christmas ever!”

Nora jumps up from the floor, rushing over and throwing her arms around you to hug you tight.

“You’re welcome Nora, Merry Christmas,” you reply, kissing her cheek, “you deserve it. You’ve done so well in school this year.”

Nora steps back, her blue eyes gleaming with joy; Leon’s blue eyes. Everything about Nora reminds you of Leon, as heartbreaking as that is.

He’s right where he needs to be though… where he can’t hurt anyone anymore…

“Can I hook it up on the living room TV and play it, Mom? Pretty pleeeeeaaaassseee?”

“Of course you can, sweetheart,” you reply as you stand up from the dining table.

“Yay! Thanks, Mom!” Nora exclaims, scooping up the PlayStation, the game and the memory card and bringing them into the living room.

You let out a playful chuckle, walking over to your phone, picking it up off the charger and dialing a number. After a few rings a familiar voice answers.

“Hello?” your mother says.

“Hey Mom! It’s me!” you reply, “Merry Christmas! I wanted to thank you for helping me get that PlayStation for Nora. She absolutely loved it.”

“Oh good! You’re welcome sweetie! How’s the weather down in Florida today?” she asks.

“A beautiful 70 degrees,” you reply with a smile, “moving here was the best decision ever. Nora loves it down here.”

“Oh that sounds lovely! I’ll have to get down to visit soon. It’s snowing up here today, your step-father is out shoveling the walkway.”

“Oh yeah! How are things going with you and Darren? I can’t wait to meet him!”

“You’re going to love him, he’s got a great personality, really funny. The other day--”

You jump when you hear a sudden knock on the door, “sorry to cut you off, Mom, but I’ve got someone at the door. I’ll talk to you later, ok?”

“No problem, sweetheart, talk to you soon! Love you, bye!”

“Love you too, Mom. Bye!”

You hang up the phone, placing it back on the charger before walking up to your door and opening it. Standing outside is a woman you haven’t seen in a couple years, her black hair framing her face perfectly. She’s wearing a simple red tank top and denim jeans with knee high boots. You notice a 9mm strapped to her right leg.

“Ada! Merry Christmas!” you exclaim, giving her a hug, which she returns without hesitation.

“Merry Christmas, can I come in?” Ada asks.

“Of course you can, let me make you some coffee. Have a seat,” you reply as you motion to the dining table.

“That sounds lovely, thank you,” Ada says as she sits down at the table.

After you make her a cup, you hand it to her before sitting across from her at the table.

“How are you and Nora doing?” Ada asks, sipping on her coffee.

“Really well. Nora’s currently in the living room hooking up the PlayStation my Mom and I got her for Christmas. She’s doing well in school, she’s made friends. She’s a perfectly normal 10 year old. As for me, I just have a scar on my chest and that’s it, no adverse side effects as far as I can tell.”

Ada nods, “I’m really happy to hear that.”

You can tell her voice is strained, clearly something is wrong, “what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“You have that 50 caliber that I gave you, right?” Ada asks.

“Yes… why…?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

Ada begins her explanation, “Two days ago, Tricell was transporting Leon to a new facility in Washington state when…”

Ada trails off, her gaze looking into the living room where Nora is happily playing her game, the sounds of the game softly traveling into the kitchen and dining room area. Ada lets out another sigh before continuing, “when he escaped; killing several people in the process.”

You let out a soft gasp, your heart jumping up into your throat.

“Don’t worry, the chances of him finding you are slim, this happened way out in Idaho. But I wanted to tell you nonetheless, as a precaution.”

“Right…” you reply, nodding subtly; your stomach is twisting in knots.

Ada grabs a piece of paper and a pen that are on your table, jotting down a phone number before handing it to you, “this is my cell phone number, if you hear, see or experience anything strange, you need to call me, ok?”

“Of course,” you reply as you motion to take the slip of paper, however Ada’s hands encase yours.

“Promise me that if you see him, you take that gun and you do not hesitate. Shoot to kill, understand?”

You take a couple of deep breaths before replying, “Yes, I understand.”

Later that night, you are tucking Nora into bed, covering her up with a beautiful floral quilt that your mom had made for her a couple of birthdays ago. She smiles up at you as you cover her up.

“This was the best Christmas ever, thank you Mom,” she says.

You gently run your fingers through her blonde hair, smiling down at her, “and you are most welcome, Nora. I’m glad you had such a good Christmas. Now, it’s time to get some sleep, ok?”

“Ok Mom!”

You lean over to turn off her bedside lamp getting up from where you were crouched next to the bed and walking to her bedroom door.

You’re at the threshold when Nora once again speaks up, “Daddy says he loves us.”

You immediately stop in your tracks, turning around slowly to look over at Nora, “wh… what did you just say?”

You must not have heard her correctly…

“I saaaid, Daddy loves us. He told me so.”

Your eyes widen and your heart is racing in your chest, “when did he tell you so, Nora?”

“Today,” she replies simply, her smile wide.

“O-Ok… good night, Nora…”

“Good night Mom,” Nora says, rolling over to face away from the door.

You walk out of her bedroom, locking and closing the door softly before proceeding to your own bedroom, closing and locking yourself in. You decide you’ll call Ada first thing in the morning. You’re hoping it’s just Nora’s imagination running wild again. But then again, Nora has never mentioned anything about Leon before now. You tuck yourself into bed, quickly falling asleep to the sound of the crickets outside.

That is, until a loud thumping sound wakes you out of a dead sleep, startling you. At first, you think it is just the remnants of a nightmare, until you hear the sound again. It’s definitely coming from inside the house. You open the drawer in your bedside table, pulling out the Desert Eagle that Ada had asked you about earlier in the day before climbing out of bed. You brought it to the local gun range to practice shooting with it once a week since you got it making sure you’d be able to handle it if the time ever came to use it.

You check to make sure it’s loaded and that the safety is off before slowly unlocking your bedroom door and stepping out into the hallway. Your first instinct is to check on Nora, maybe she had just gotten up to go to the bathroom. You slowly make your way to the bedroom, unlocking the door with a key in your pocket and quietly opening it. Nora is sound asleep, it definitely wasn’t her making the noise. You gently shut the door, locking it once more.

You hear the sound again from behind you, you turn quickly and aim your gun, but there is nothing there. Lowering your gun, you walk slowly down the hallway which leads out to the kitchen and dining room. You take a peek into the living room, thankfully not seeing anything, just the PlayStation sitting on the floor where Nora had left it. Confident that there’s nothing in the house, you turn to walk down the hallway to go back to bed.

However, you see a shadow cast from the lights of the Christmas tree of four insect-like appendages extending outwards, followed by a long tail, the shadow is also taller than you. Your breaths are ragged as you stop and slowly turn around, the gun clenched in your hands. Sure enough, you find Leon standing behind you, a soft smile on his lips that is barely visible in the low light.

It’s clear that he has aged, but admittedly he’s aged like a fine wine, still retaining his handsome features that first lured you to him in the first place. He is wearing a blue leather jacket with a black shirt underneath with denim jeans and work boots. His eyes glowing a soft red in the low light and the plaga black veins sprawling over his exposed skin.

“Merry Christmas, angel,” Leon says, his voice as smooth as whiskey, “you are as beautiful as the day I lost you, if not more. I’ve missed you both so much.”

You swallow hard, your feelings conflicted. You missed him too, terribly. There is still a part of you that loved him; you knew deep down there is still good in him; he would have been an amazing father to your daughter.

Leon continues, “how is Nora? Can I see her?”

You take a deep breath before shaking your head, raising the Desert Eagle to aim it right between his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Leon.”

You pull the trigger.

‘Glitch’ Text translation:

“Where are you?”

“I am going to find you.”

“The room is… yes I check out… room 1006? Thank yo--”

A/N: First of all, I want to apologize that this took so long to put out. I want to dedicate this part to my lovely friends @nexysworld @explorevenus @kaitkatme and @dollfacefantasy. They’re always supportive and have always been there for me when I needed it most and for that I am so incredibly grateful. I have made so many beautiful friends in the Resident Evil fandom. This fic is still one I am incredibly proud of and had so much fun writing it. Thank you for joining me on this incredible ride! I hope it is worth the wait

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader smut #vampire!leon kennedy #plagas!leon kennedy #gigabyte writes #he comes alive

290 notes · View notes