#㈣ Reality is faint... - OOC

[necrotrigae]

BITCH, ARE YOU TRYIN’ TO KILL ME

#I REMEMBER WHAT THROWING TOMATOS MEANS #I WILL STAB YOU #㈣ Reality is faint... - OOC #ↁ What the utter FUCK- | CRACK

[sttoru]

hueheueheu if its okay can i req rich bf aventurine? Always spoiling reader and buys everything she wants 🥹🥹

✸ SYNOPSIS. your boyfriend, aventurine spoils you in more ways than one when you come back to your shared hotel room in penacony.

note. uhh, this actually turned out a tad more melodramatic than i expected help, i put some of my own twists in there. first aventurine fic so sorry if its too ooc !

tags. aventurine x female reader. fluff, bits of angst, suggestive. reader gets called ‘baby, pretty’. use of aventurine’s real name once. reader is a bit insecure at one point. little bits of penacony and aventurine lore / subtle spoiler to the 2.1 quest. wc: 1.4k-ish

“c’mere, pretty.” aventurine’s voice soothes your weary body the moment you step into your shared hotel room. you’ve just gotten back from some business you had to take care of—a couple hours of your valuable day wasted because of it.

you’re greeted by your lover sitting on one of the red couches, accompanied by various bags and boxes all around the space. aventurine shoots you his signature smile. one that’s actually genuine. the one he only shows you.

“must’ve been tough, hm? i’m sorry i couldn’t help you out,” the blonde man sighs as he stands up to meet you halfway. a gloved hand finds its way onto yours, fingers intertwining without wasting a second.

aventurine places a delicate kiss on your palm and slowly moves down to your wrist. his beautiful eyes lure you in, “you’d forgive me for that, right?”

you don’t realise that you’re practically frozen in place until he chuckles in amusement. you snap out of it and clear your throat, trying to get yourself together, “y-yeah. i understand you’re busy ‘n all. it’s no problem.”

aventurine hums in response. there’s a faint flash of guilt in his eyes before it disappears like it was never there. like it was a delusion. well, perhaps it was. staying in penacony for too long causes you to have difficulties differing reality from dreams and vice versa.

“i’m happy to have you back with me,” aventurine pulls you closer by the small of your back. he presses you against him until your chests are touching. his breath is pleasantly warm against your bare skin, “i’ve been waiting for you all day.”

the tension in the hotel room is heavy. it’s like this every time you’re with your lover. the spark never dies between you two. it never will. you both need each other, in unspoken ways.

you avert your gaze to the ground. no matter how much time you spend with aventurine, his affectionate gestures never fail to make you melt into a puddle. maybe it’s in those eyes of his. or in his homelike touch.

aventurine continues peppering you with kisses. he doesn’t miss a spot—every patch of skin you’re showing is showered in his love. that’s one of the only ways he can illustrate those complicated feelings inside of him.

his lips eventually find yours, like a force drawn to a magnet. you cup his face and deepen the kiss. your lips move in sync, slowly and passionately. you need this as much as he does.

the way he’s holding onto your coat—his fingers digging into the material as if he’s missed you greatly. . . his tongue trying to seek entrance into your mouth as if he can’t wait to be one with you. to try and love you like you love him. . .

a light hearted chuckle makes you pull away. you open your eyes and find aventurine grinning down at you, his finger rubbing your bottom lip gently to tease you.

“haha, how cute.” the blonde man snickers at your needy expression. he knows what you want, and he wants it as well, though there’s enough time for that after, “we can get to that later, yeah?”

"aww, 'kay,” you nod with a pout, to which aventurine responds by gently flicking your forehead. he grabs your hand and leads you to the nearby table. you can’t even see the surface because of the numerous boxes placed on it.

“i want to show you what i got you first,” aventurine continues, sitting down on the comfy couch. he pulls you onto his lap and wraps one arm around your waist, the other one reaching out towards the mountain of fancy gifts.

you can easily recognise the expensive bags by now. aventurine is known for spoiling you rotten. the overpriced brands are nothing but child's play to the lucky man. money isn’t a worry to him, nor should it be for you, as he says every time you feel the slightest bit guilty for his big spendings on you.

“kakavasha..” you mutter under your breath. aventurine doesn't respond, but he reassures you by lightly tightening his grip on your waist. you turn your head and look at him. he isn’t looking back at you this time. rather, he’s looking down at the box in your hand, patiently waiting for you to open it.

you wordlessly undo the wrappers and open up the first gift of many. it’s an earring. one that resembles his. it shines brightly once you pick it up. the color is beautiful, as it reminds you of your lover.

you don’t know what to say. you don’t want to guess how much aventurine has spent on it either. you love him, that you surely do, but are you really deserving of this much? he spoils you every day. all that money he spends on you without hesitation makes you overthink.

you shake your head and try to get those negative thoughts out of your head. you don’t want to ruin this precious moment all too much. you smile fondly and put the earring on, “thank you so much. it's so pretty.”

the jewelry dangles off your left ear, the opposite of where aventurine’s got his hanging. the blonde man silently admires you. the light illuminating the stones gives you an ethereal look. especially in a dimly lit room with only a few light sources.

“no need to thank me, baby,” aventurine murmurs, his voice a surprisingly soft whisper. his thumb trails down the shell of your ear and eventually touches the earring again. the fact that you’re wearing the exact same one as he is, but on the opposite ear, is doing indescribable things to him.

you complete each other.

all his life, aventurine has never properly taken the time to appreciate his gift; his luck. he is doing so now—with you in his embrace. it’s like his surroundings have come to a halt. all that his eyes are focusing on, is you. the image of you in his arms.

“it suits you perfectly.” aventurine’s voice trembles lightly. he doesn't know why he's feeling like this. he’s overwhelmed by how lucky he is to have someone so breath-takingly beautiful in his presence. “gorgeous—you’re gorgeous.”

aventurine is not the only one who’s flustered. your own heart is pounding in your chest. your lover knows just what buttons to push to make you all flustered. he succeeds without fail every single time.

you lean your head against his shoulder and wrap your arms around his torso. aventurine welcomes the affection without a word. you look up at your partner with a softened expression before complimenting him back, “no, you are. you are beautiful."

aventurine’s eyes widen for a split second, his lips parting. you’s aware of the effects your compliments have on him. they make him feel giddy, however he also isn’t the best at expressing that. he regains his composure and grins, “oh, really? hah, how flattering.”

you giggle quietly and nod. you’re content with this. being in your lover’s arms after a rough day, unpacking the many gifts he got you, receiving his attention and affection. you wish you could do this for eternity.

after you’ve shared your precious moment together, aventurine leans agains the back of the couch and pulls you into a warm hug. one you both simply had to have. your lover starts to pat your head in a soothing manner.

the silence in the hotel room is deafening. the opened gifts and abandoned wrappers lay scattered around the table and floor. the static of the television in the distance is somehow comforting.

both aventurine and you realise that this instant will be over as soon as the next day arrives. it’s but a fleeting moment, one that will sooner or later be just another memory. you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck and he answers this by kissing your forehead. his lips leave a tingling sensation on your skin.

the comfortable silence continues for a couple seconds more. aventurine stares up at the ceiling. he’s sure that he’s satisfied for now, yet there’s still unease boiling in the pit of his stomach.

perhaps it’s due to his knowledge of the near future. his grande plan.

but, that’s not what’s important. not when aventurine can feel and hear your heartbeat right next to him. he hasn’t lost it all. not yet. he’s still got time to spend with the other gift that was bestowed upon him at birth: you.

“you’ll stay with me, right? no matter what.”

aventurine’s sudden question breaks the quiet atmosphere. you open your eyes again and tilt your head back, gazing down at your lover. one look at his face and you know that he needs your honesty at the moment. more than anything else in the entire universe.

you nod and lean in to kiss him—to show him that you mean it when you say; “yes. no matter what.”

#sttoru writes. #hsr x reader #aventurine x reader #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #aventurine x you #aventurine x y/n #honkai star rail x reader

[obbystars]

It hurts to be something, it’s worse to be nothing with you.

NOTES: dividers by @cafekitsune !!

( Written before 2.2 / Kinda short tbh / Boothill may be OOC / not really angst as it turns into fluff tbh / I blame this / title was chosen because I was listening to the song at the time / GN!Reader )

It took a while for Boothill to even get used to this new life, or new body. Every time he looked at himself, he’s reminded of what was stolen from him. For a time, he hated his body. He sometimes wished he stayed dead. He feels so cold. He didn’t… He never wanted this, though as time passed, he grew accustomed to it. He eventually accepted it, but it never stopped those thoughts from worming their way back into his head.

He doesn’t quite feel… human. Nothing about him truly felt human.

“Boothill? You still there?” The voice was barely above a whisper.

“Hm?”

The gentle beating of a heart entered his ears. He felt warm. He felt a warm hand gently rubbing his face. Another hand was playing with a few strands of his hair before it was now gently brushing it. He opened his eyes, finding himself in an all too familiar room. One he had always looked forward to going back to once he finally had time to spare.

And underneath him? His favorite person, of course. Someone he always looked forward to seeing again, to spending more time with. He looks up at you, and you took note of his expression.

“Oh, sorry. Did I wake you up?”

He shook his head, burying his face into your chest and closing his eyes again, “No, no ya didn’t... Don’t worry ‘bout it,”

His arms were wrapped securely around your waist, trapping you in bed with him. You wiggled around in his grip for a bit to get a bit comfortable, resulting in you having to move him further up. His face was now in the crook of your neck.

Was he crushing you? Surely if he was, you would’ve said something or even tried to nudge him away. Were you cold? He hoped not… You did sometimes push him off of you because he was too cold. Sometimes he wishes he could provide you the warmth you always give him, but it’s not like he can feel it anywhere else other than his face. He hated that.

“You okay?” You questioned, your voice snapping him back to reality.

His answer was only a faint hum this time. He feels your hand brush his hair again, and you swear you can just feel him melt under your touch. It surprised you sometimes. A brash, flamboyant Galaxy Ranger, always full of energy and ready for the next journey across the stars almost turning into mush once your hands meet him. It was something you picked up on very quickly, and it didn’t take as long for you to realize why he reacts this way.

“Does it bother you?”

Your hands stop moving through the white strands, “Does what bother me?”

“This… My body. Does it-”

“No. Not at all,” you suddenly cut in, “You get cold sometimes, but that doesn’t bother me. Why do you ask?”

“…it’s nothin’,”

You turn your head to face him, nuzzling him knowing he can feel you there, “Well… It definitely is something, but… Whenever you’re ready, I’m all ears,”

He can feel you gently press a kiss on his head, and another, and another, and another. The only place where he can feel you, and you were practically showering him with small kisses.

He feels warm, especially when he’s with you. Maybe that’s why he always looks forward to moments like this with you because for once, even if it’s just for a moment, he feels human.

ehhh, this felt better in my head but oh well, I just really wanted to write Boothill

I don’t regularly post fics or hcs like this but maybe I’ll make a silly side blog for it if I do find myself wanting to write so much more for Boothill ( I literally love him so much )

#it was gonna be a frank sinatra lyric but it turned into laufey #i love laufey #the frank sinatra one was gonna be and then i go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like i love you #it sounded nice #honkai star rail boothill #hsr boothill #boothill x reader #boothill #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #star rail #hsr x reader

[tadpolesonalgae]

Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You - Part 8

Pairing: Azriel x third-oldest-Archeron-sister!Reader

A/N: Writing Nesta post-acosf is so confusing so I apologise if she’s a little ooc!

Word Count: 5,552

-Part 7- -🌌🌠- -Part 9-

It’s been while since you last ate with all of them.

Even so, the atmosphere is familiar. Jovial. Pleasant enough you can allow yourself to slip into spectation, vanishing in your mind’s eyes, becoming an observer without presence. Shadows flicker at the corner of your vision, and you’re brought back down to reality.

The restaurant lights are warm and yellowy, a magic barrier constructed at the room’s border to keep the temperature pleasantly mild, inky darkness swirling just beyond the threshold. Candles flicker, almost in time with his shadows. It’s hard to tell when natural darkness ends and his begins. But he doesn’t really like it when people stare at them, so you avert your eyes. Scratch the backs of your hands beneath the table, softened a little by cream.

By what you can only assume was a stroke of bad luck—or good, depending how you want to feel for the rest of the night—everyone had already settled into the dinner by the time you arrived, leaving a single seat open. Yes, you could’ve pulled over a chair, or requested one to be magically summoned, but that would be drawing attention to the issue, which would undoubtedly make the ineffable off-ness of your relationship with him that much more blatant.

So there he is, a steady presence to your left, situated at one end of the table. Elain to your right. How unfortunate. Or lucky, depending on the angle.

Take a sip of your water, unsticking your tongue from the roof of your mouth. Lean slightly over to your sister. “Have I missed anything?” Cocoa flick to you, warm and soft in the mellow light, a little tired. Half-circles beneath her eyes. “Nothing much. I was planning on visiting Lucien again—hopefully within the week.” She answers mildly, a faint smile in her eyes. “There’s also a possibility of Nesta going over to have a look at the libraries in the Day Court.”

“Woah,” you mumble. “Looking for anything in particular, or simply for recreation?”

Elain shrugs, eyes flicking across the table. “Ask her,” she says simply.

Spine stiffens.

With fae hearing, plus the close proximity, there’s a high chance everyone heard that exchange. Refusing to do so will only draw more attention. You shoot Elain a reproachful look for putting you in this situation but she smiles encouragingly.

You find the elegant shape of your eldest sister a little further down the table—across and two over. Opposite Cassian who is beside Elain. Sharp eyes flit to your own a second after you’ve sought her out—she definitely heard. At least you didn’t vocalise any dismay over the forced interaction.

“Day Court?” You inquire, raising your brows in interest. She nods, lips parting in a smile, “quite the trip, isn’t it.” You laugh—trying to remember where the Day Court is in conjunction with Night. Come up short. “Already read through all the books here?” You reply, trying to keep the conversation fluid. Gaze absently flicks over the various plates and trays of food, picking out the things you’d like to try. A waft of something delicious floats down the table—a covered bowl sits between Rhys and Feyre. Soup, most likely. It has your mouth watering from the scent alone. Would be divine with some buttered bread.

“Nowhere near,” she responds, still smiling. “But there’s a particular author we’re after, and I’d like to see if I can find more of his books in those libraries.” You hum, nodding your head in acknowledgement. “Different from The Runaway?” She blinks, then nods, “you’ve read it already?”

“Yeah. Finished it last week,” you answer, peering at the dishes closer to you, wonder what you can pick. It’s mostly meat. Some roast potatoes, poultry next along covered in an orange-red sauce that smells spicy.

“What did you think?” She asks, carefully ladling gravy to the edge of her own plate. It’s your turn to blink, recalling the story to the forefront of your mind. Exhale heavily, leaning back into the chair. “I don’t know, really,” you admit honestly, “there was a lot in it, I suppose. I’m still digesting it, in a way. Do you know what I mean?” She nods, eyes softening at the edges—you’ve said the right thing. “I think there’s a lot in it; a lot happened to him, and I think it did a good job on highlighting how perspective can be manipulated. I also like how the creature was only alluded to in earlier chapters while the first part of the plot was unfolding so you end up overlooking it?”

She gracefully cuts through a potato, dipping it in the gravy before neatly depositing it in her mouth. Elegant and refined. “Yes, I thought that was an interesting way of telling his story. The complications between Yvette and Hans helped with the initial distraction, I think.” Lips twists into a slight frown. “The section—I think around chapter seventeen? Eighteen…?” You pause, picturing how far through the book it was, then shake your head. “Around there, anyway. The section about those lights in the sky?— I had to put the book down for a bit.” You admit, smiling as you recall the passage.

Nesta nods her head. “I couldn’t believe it, either. I think I actually had to stand up and get myself another cup of tea to calm down when he connected the dots.” A grin parts your lips wider, skin warming at the memory. “Anyway,” you say, redirecting the conversation, “a different author.”

She nods in confirmation, “a different author.”

“Romance?” You ask, remembering her appreciation for the genre.

Something passes through the room, hairs slowly raising at the back of your neck. Eyes slide to Elain, but she’s conversing with Cassian, attention shifted away from you. Gaze flicks back to Nesta who has a tight smile on her lips—it’s still odd to see her smiling so openly and frequently.

“No, actually,” she begins slowly, cutlery lowering to her plate. Her fingers remain pressed tight to the metal. “It’s a spell-book,” she says, silvery-blue eyes gleaming like moonlight despite the warm glow about the private space. Brow furrows a little as you peer at her across the table, “a spell-book?” You ask. “What do you need a spell-book for?” Her spine straightens, attention moving to her meal as she slices into some meat, mouth opening to continue.

“The baby warrior’s been having doubts about his wingspan, I’ll bet,” Amren croons from across the table, snatching your attention. Your brow dips further, eyes now shifting to find Cassian further down the table—the other side of Elain. He seems fine, laughing brightly. “Is there a problem with them?” You ask Nesta, remembering how torn up they’d been after the mess with Hybern and the cauldron.

She shakes her head, lips lifting into a grin as she meets Amren’s steel-coloured eyes. “She’s just jealous,” Nesta returns, “Varian not treating you well?” Sharp eyes flash with challenge. “Maybe they should compare notes. I’m sure your mate could learn a thing or two,” she taunts, effectively ending your conversation with Nesta. A part of you wants to learn more—your natural inclination—but Amren’s whisked her away into conversation, Mor stuck between them.

Attention again flits to Elain, but she’s still contained in conversation with Cassian, leaving only the keen pair of eyes on your left to entertain yourself with. Raise the glass to your lips, forcing down a mouthful of the alcohol, ignoring the light pulsing in the forefront of your head. Skin prickles beneath his attention, fingers shifting over your cutlery as you move to take food to your plate.

It seems rude to interrupt Elain’s conversation—you always go to her first. She speaks to people other than you, and probably enjoys doing so. You should leave her to enjoy the night. Take another drink of the clear liquid, shadows flickering in your peripherals as you set your sights on Nesta. Wait for an opening.

“What do you want the spell-book for?” You ask, feigning ignorance to their conversation. As if the question just appeared on your tongue, falling out before you could stop it. Two sets of sharp eyes cut to you, a single set of caramel flicking to steel warily. “A containment spell,” Nesta answers, slicing up some vegetables on her plate. “To bind.”

Amren’s lip curls into a distinctly predatory grin, almost warning. “Needing to spice things up so early in your relationship?” She croons. “I would have given it at least another few months before you two were in need of a bonding activity.” A fourth pair of eyes joins the discussion though he’s still wrapped in his own exchange. The hazel to your left has probably been observing for some time, too.

Nesta offers the petite female a tight smile, equally warning. Mor claps her hands, hastily breaking up the exchange. “Will you pass that down? Cass, be a dear and— no, next to it— the other side—yes! Thank you!” You watch slightly enviously as she ladles soup into a bowl, taking a slice of fluffy bread and slathering butter over its surface. Trace the soup as it’s returned to its place at the far end of the table, between Rhys and Feyre, one seat down from Nesta and Cassian.

And just like that, dialogue ebbs and flows around, leaving you with no way in. You’re quite glad for the reprieve. These dinners generally leave you in need of a weeks sleep to recover, by which point the next one is already scheduled. Exhausting. You don’t know how they manage it. Attention is still weighing on you as you raise your cutlery, poised to begin slicing into the meat upon your plate.

Elain is still preoccupied—to your steadily growing dismay. Nesta and Amren are locked in a verbal sparring match, while Mor chimes in here and there, occasionally attempting to rope Cassian in, too. Just to stir things up. Shadows flicker in the background.

His attention is becoming difficult to ignore. Clear your throat softly, focusing on cutting through the meat, slicing it into bitesized chunks. “Is something the matter, Azriel?” Shift the cutlery in your hands, easing up the pressure on your knuckles from the effort of cutting. He watches silently, his own plate clean and empty.

“Not at all,” he replies quietly, voice unliltling and void of inflection. Your brow twitches toward the centre, neatly spearing a chunk of flesh. Swallow in preparation. “Nothing?” You question, equally softly, biting down on the dead animal. It comes apart easily on your tongue, softened in a skillet somewhere, bathed in oils and rosemary, sprinkled with salts and spices. Force yourself to chew and swallow. “Nothing,” he repeats back, hazel eyes resting on your jaw, flicking to meet your gaze.

Finish your mouthful, move to the next sliver. Spike it on your fork. Half raise it from the plate then stop, lowering it quietly. “What are you watching?” You ask, eyes flicking down to your plate, skipping away from his. “Many things,” he answers vaguely. Shadows flicker at his back, wreathing his wings, tucking behind them. “I’d rather not be part of those things,” you murmur, finally biting down on the tender flesh. Chew enough so it’s digestible, then swallow. Think about nice things, like the books at the house, golden eyes, and dried flowers. “You’re in public,” he replies, tone still without inflection. “That’s an impossible request.”

Three pieces left, and it’ll be done.

“You can look elsewhere instead of staring a hole in my head,” you murmur. “Maybe,” you add hastily, softening the sharp suggestion. These situations always put you a little on edge. So many people.

He’s quiet for a bit, but his attention doesn’t shift, despite his gaze moving to be further down the table. You manage another chunk of meat, teeth dully masticating as you grind the flesh down, focusing on the herbs and spices in place of the ashen, earthy flavour of the animal carcass.

Azriel’s attention weighs into you, skin prickling, hairs raising at the back of your neck as you try to ignore it. It’s probably being exacerbated by your imagination. Raise the fifth and final piece to your mouth, thinking about rotating planets and cocoa, of whiskey and caramel as your teeth bite and chew absently. He’s still observing; you shift in your chair, swallowing the mouthful. Reach for your glass, gulp down the clear liquid.

Nearly choke, the alcohol burning your throat. Nose scrunches before you can help it, covering your mouth with the napkin while you cough as quietly as possible. Elain pats you on the back making you smile as you overcome the initial shock. “Something go down the wrong way?” She asks, lips curving in a grin she’s clearly attempting to suppress in favour of a more sympathetic expression. Puts those attempts to rest when you laugh quietly, nodding to the liquid. “Too eager,” you whisper, refolding the napkin. Elain covers her own mouth, shoulders shaking with muffled mirth; you shoot her a playful glare.

Mor, sitting opposite Elain; beside Nesta, breaks from her conversation with the two, attention flitting to you, as if she had been lying in wait for her chance. “So!” She says, golden hair shining resplendent beneath the glow, like a flame encased in honey. “When shall we go shopping?” Her hands clap together, red lips parting in a friendly smile.

Oh.

You’d blessedly forgotten that promise of hers.

Swallow uneasily. “It’s fine… The polish and lip tint were lovely,” you smile, hoping she’ll leave it be. “Nonsense,” she chirps, collecting a few more roast potatoes onto her plate, Amren gingerly taking a few after her, nose almost wrinkling with suspicion. “You love books, and I apparently need a reason to spend time with you, so a shopping trip is perfect!” You offer her what you hope is a steady smile, one that disguises the strain you’re feeling, “I don’t want to be a bother—it’s fine, really. There are plenty of books in the library, anyway, and I’ve barely made it through the first two levels.”

Brows shoot up to her hairline. “Every book? You’ve been reading all of them?” You blink at her surprise, then hesitantly dip your head. Anxiety bubbles in your stomach, hands gripping one another as tension slices through your shoulders. “Are they— Am I not supposed to?”

“Oh, no! Nothing like that. Read away!” She laughs, raising her hands in a calming gesture. “I hadn’t expected your interests to be so different, is all,” she smiles. “I tried to read a couple from the library when I was younger and nearly bored myself to tears.” You smile faintly, relaxing back into your chair. “I guess they’re not for everyone,” you reply, posture softening against the back of your seat.

Mor laughs, the sound like wind chimes caught on a stray breeze, golden hair glinting in the warm light. You have to look away. It feels wrong to even look at her—to try and place her individual beauties. Peer down at your empty plate, hunger gnawing at your stomach lining. You should have remembered to eat before coming along.

“So what about tomorrow?” She asks, dipping buttered bread into her bowl. Raise your head to look at her, confusion lining your brows. She smiles easily, “for a shopping trip, of course.”

“Not every creature enjoys being put through your endless chatter, Mor,” Amren snipes from her side. The blonde female pouts, throwing a glare to the petite Fae on her right.

Warm toffee eyes flick to cocoa, brightening with an idea, “Elain could come along too!” Spine goes rigid, every ounce of willpower straining to keep from glancing to your left, wondering what he’s thinking. Swallow heavily, stiffening as your older sister is brought into the discussion. Mor smiles eagerly, “what do you say, Elain? Fancy a shopping trip tomorrow?”

Nails slice into your palms, piercing small crescent shapes into your skin—you’ve been trying not to bite them. Press further back into your seat, muscles coiling with anxiety. Not both of them.

You can practically feel the moment steely silver eyes pick up on your reluctance, like she has a sixth sense for picking at scabs. But Elain sighs apologetically, “that would be lovely, but I’m afraid I’ll have to decline this time.” Relief washes over your skin, bathed in a cool breeze. “I told you so,” Amren snickers to the blonde female.

Mor’s brows dip together, “oh, piss off Amren. I know you like picking out clothes to wear for Varian with me.” The cunning female raises her glass to her lips, taking a slow sip. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she replies smoothly, Mor’s lips twitching at the obvious denial.

Turn to Elain, taking in the natural glow of her features. “Have plans?” You ask quietly, hand absently resting over your stomach. Involuntarily glance at the soup further up the table, tongue flicking out over your lips. She shakes her head, softly curled silky hair cascading over her slim shoulders. In your peripherals, you can make out how shadows stretch across the table, reaching. “I’ve been dreadfully tired lately,” she admits, equally hushed.

Brow furrows in concern, about to ask further, but Mor’s on you again. “Guess it’ll just be us tomorrow!” She smiles genuinely, excited for the plans. When you glance sidelong at your sister, she’s already settled back into conversation with Cassian, your youngest sister and her mate joining in. You nod in surrender, accepting it’s something that has to happen. It would be overtly rude to decline her invitation now.

“Great! We can squeeze in a lunch, too,” she grins, washing down the soup with a glassful of wine. “Maybe you can direct me to some of the more interesting library books,” she suggests, eyes sparking with excitement. You nod again, fatigue beginning to weigh on your shoulders. It’s nice watching them, but you frequently forget how draining it is to be involved.

Lean back into your chair, pulling your stomach in as you feel pressure grow—you’d die of embarrassment if it started growling. Hastily drink some more in attempts to fill it up. Hungrily eye the plates of food. Maybe the poultry wouldn’t be too bad with the sauce—chicken was hard to come by all those years ago.

A delicious scent catches your attention, shadows skittering away as he silently ladles soup into his bowl. Nobody asks about the shuffling round of plates. Stomach rumbles and you flush, hands clamping over your stomach as humiliation burns along your skin. Mouth almost watering, but you force yourself to wait; appear only mildly interested in the food. An appropriate amount of attention for a dinner.

His hand knocks into the bowl, pushing it aside to make room for another dish, so it’s to his right. Almost subtle enough to appear accidental.

Still, you finally help yourself to the soup, equal parts affection and shame weighing in your gut.

————

The night air is crisp and cool, soothing the warmth of your skin as you follow quietly a way behind the group.

Feyre and Rhys have already made their way home, not liking to spend too long away from Nyx, despite knowing he’s well cared for. There seems to be discussion ahead of taking things further for the night, perhaps more drinking.

After having left the restaurant, Nesta had sought you out. You’d been surprised to say the least—a little on edge—but it had been nothing to worry about. She’d merely extended an invitation for you to join her on their trip to the Day Court. Perhaps to seek out some books you’d been interested in, she’d suggested.

You’d politely declined.

Now you turn to Elain, the darkness bringing out the slight dip below her eyes. “You okay?” You ask, the chatter of the streets soothing background noise. Fading to a constant hum in the back of your mind, falling into the empty recesses. She nods, sighing heavily. “I’ve been having some trouble sleeping,” she replies quietly. “And, I’ve…” shakes her head. “Maybe I’m coming down with something,” she sighs again. “You always were more prone to sickness than the rest of us,” you reply, nudging her shoulder playfully.

She smiles gently, eyes crinkling in the corners. “Maybe I’ll come and cough on you so you get ill for once,” she grins.

Nose wrinkles as you smile, “gross.” She laughs at that, then the two of you fall quiet, walking together in companionable silence. Trudging your way back to the River House, keeping fairly close to the main group who are still deciding whether or not to turn in for the evening.

You know you’ll be heading back to the House of Wind for the night.

Curious to see if a response has been written.

————

The House is quiet. Halls empty and silent as you pad down the corridor to your room.

Maybe you should check with Nesta whether she wants you to move out of here—switch to the River House. Anxiety slices at your gut, fatigue weighing your eyelids at the thought. You’re sure she’ll say something if she wants you out. You aren’t keen to initiate conversation with her unless necessary.

When you enter your room, candles are already lit, courtesy of the House. A few clothes lay on the floor, but it’s mostly clear. Almost tidy.

Parchment rests across your desk, and you eagerly hurry over.

Nothing has been added.

Excitement dies away, scratching at the backs of your hands absently.

Wearily take a seat, playing with the pen between your fingers, chewing on your lower lip. Debating the merits of bothering him when he’s taken no interest in your last comment.

Toss the thoughts out your window, throwing all caution to the wind.

Long day?

Bite down on your tongue, pulling at the top most layer of skin until you bleed. Wait for the paper to disappear. Seconds tick by, counting as they drain away. Steadily turning into minutes. Lean your cheek on the table, slumping forward as boredom creeps in, the pendant clunking as it hits the wooden surface of the table.

Do you remember your twenty-first birthday?

You aren’t particularly sure where the question comes from. Maybe the still-boxed jigsaw puzzle sitting atop a dusty stack of books has something to do with it.

Paper vanishes, and you perk up, straightening in your chair, fingers flexing. Excitement stirring in your chest. Absently reach for a pot of cream, unscrewing the lid as you trace the desiccated skin of your knuckles. Slowly soothe it in, rub the dips between your fingers, pretending your hands are someone else’s.

Parchment reappears, having you eagerly lean forward.

No.

You scowl at the curt response, twiddling the pen in your hands.

Sour and miserable indeed. Were my earlier questions not interesting enough to deign a response?

Letter vanishes, your feet tapping against the floor, fidgeting with the writing instrument. Turn to the anthology as you usually end up doing while waiting for his reply. Flip to the page you’d bookmarked, removing the silver embossed fabric. Lips quirk when you spot the title: Explosions: Rapid Division.

Shift the book so it’s in the centre of your desk, reading the introductory passage, instinctively scanning the diagrams with intrigue. Paper reappears atop the pages.

You forget I am a high-ranking individual with a multitude of tasks to attend to. I don’t get to spend my days simply lying around to pester the only person who’ll give me a scrap of attention.

Cheeks heat with embarrassment, yet you find yourself smiling at the familiar sharpness of his tongue. Ease out a deep breath, relaxing into your chair, flicking the pen in your dry fingers before lowering it to the parchment.

I think if you truly felt pestered, you wouldn’t be responding at all. Feeling lonely over there, Eris?

The paper vanishes, and you treat yourself to an image of his brows narrowing, lip curling as ire blazes in caramel eyes. Mouth widens into a smile as your feet tip-tap on the floor-boards, absently dipping your finger tips into the pot of cream again, putting more over the roughness of your skin as you wait patiently.

Parchment reappears, heartbeat picking up with excitement.

And what about yourself? The hell-cat is leaving for quite a while, isn’t she?

Lips part on a sharp exhale, spine straightening as your eyes flick about the room anxiously. How does he know that? Should you tell someone? Brow narrows in concentration, mind scrambling to think up a response that won’t give anything away, without sounding so vague he knows you’re avoiding the question. Swallow heavily, rubbing in the last of the cream, reaching for your pen. Lower it to the desk, and falter. What do you say? Is feigning ignorance too obvious?

The letter vanishes before you’ve had a chance to even put a speck of ink upon it, and it dawns on you that the question was timed. Picture the way his lips part is a slow smile as he sees the blank paper.

Manipulative bastard.

I suppose she’ll be taking the brute with her, too?

Fingers tighten on the pen, teeth grinding. Is this why he warned you about Eris? Because of how quickly he can extract information through carefully assembling pieces? Jaw tenses, but more silence will be confirmation.

How do you know any of that?

Chew on your lower lip as you await his reply, heart pounding. Azriel would be furious. Swallow down the nausea, teeth sliding beneath your nails—toeing the line of biting down, but restraining yourself.

Really, how do you think Court politics works? Of course we keep tabs on one another. I’m sure your shadowsinger has plenty of spies littered throughout Prythian. Possibly further, too.

Blood ices, peering down at your necklace and the map contained within. Imagining how wide his net must be to thread throughout it all. How much work it must take to keep everything running. Ruthless discipline. How tiring it must be. The weight, the pressure to keep it all maintained.

Head beginnings swimming at the thought of it. Would you even be able to keep up with him?

Why are you telling me this?

The pen scratches over the parchment, struggling to keep lines clean through the slight tremor in your hands. You can’t even begin to comprehend how much work must regularly go into sustaining such a network.

It’s a little embarrassing that you don’t already know. What are they teaching you over there? How to be an emotional burden?

The words hit sharp in your chest, hooks latching into the soft, vascular muscle of your heart. Poised to shred in an instant. Awaiting for the split second of weakness to rip. Rupture the organ in a clean tear.

Fear spikes.

I understand why your brother wants nothing to do with you if that’s how you speak with people.

The words are stamped into the page before you have time to reason it out. Blood rushes round your ears, wincing as your fingertips burn with the faint embers of power that have begun sparking up every now and again. Preemptively reach for the hand cream, preparing to soothe the itch once it fully manifests.

He’ll read into that comment. You know he will. Read between the lines to figure out just how much that one stung.

Parchment reappears and you warily lean forward, eyes skimming the clean script.

I’d been wondering where you kept your lovely claws, cygnet.

I didn’t mean to write that.

Wipe hands on your skirts, anxiety kicking up in the pit of your stomach. Roiling with worry.

You knew perfectly well what you were doing. You simply despise the way you are.

Has anyone else commented on how similar you are to Nesta Archeron?

Heart sinks to your stomach, biting on your tongue until you taste copper. Dislike how deep he’s wormed his way already. How did things go from light-hearted sparring matches to full scale battle in so few conversations?

And what about you? You write, mimicking his earlier diversion. Do your brothers share your affinity for poisoned words?

The parchment vanishes for a while this time, though you don’t even try to distract yourself with the anthology. Leg taps anxiously, trying to rub cream into your hands, hoping if it’s done tonight, they won’t ache tomorrow. The last thing you need right now is another flare up. Try to focus on the scent—light and sweet. Like gardenias and sugar.

Your attempts to redirect are as graceful as the first steps of a freshly birthed hound. Perhaps once you settle into your skin you’ll become more skilled at deflecting uncomfortable topics.

Skin prickles, hairs standing on end as you again raise the pen in hand. Considering routes to return to earlier discussions that weren’t so intrusive.

Alternatively, you could choose lighter conversation starters. For example, why did you send the anthology?

Certainly not the most succinct switch in direction, but better than continuing down that path. Ease a breath into your lungs once the paper vanishes, reminding yourself you don’t have to reply to him. At any point, you’re free to leave. Lean back in your chair, stretching out your limbs, muscles spasming and aching in your shoulders, fingers trembling as bones click in your spine. Deflate into the seat, muscles relaxing all at once.

You haven’t noticed anything yet?

Brows furrow, peering at the volume. Close it and flip it over—nothing on the back. Reopen it to the contents page, peering at the compilation of titles, authors, and page numbers. Scan the introductory section again, searching for anything to give you a hint at what he’s talking about.

(Writing about.)

I’m mildly concerned to ask? You write, keeping the conversation light, steering away from the earlier topics. Hoping he’ll keep away from family-related chatter.

Then read away.

Heart spikes at the ominous reply. What the hell is he talking about?

Eris, are you serious?

Paper vanishes, reappearing moments later.

Nothing but.

Roll your eyes at the response, but again set pen to paper.

If you were a human, you’d be riddled in various worry-marks by now. Does that thought upset you?

Lips quirk faintly, hoping it irritates him sufficiently.

Is this how you cope with discomfort? Pretending it away? Making light of it?

Damn him.

Instead of…?

Instead of hiding like a coward. Your blithe little act is growing dreadfully monotonous.

Straighten in your chair, shifting uncomfortably. Are you boring? Is that it? Is that the whole reason he…

Do fae have milestone dates like humans do? You said you don’t remember your twenty-first.

Paper disappears, and you become aware of the tension coiling in your shoulders. Maybe you should turn in for the night. Writing to him is supposed to be fun, not make you feel so…

Squirm uncomfortably, slouching in the seat. Crick your neck, releasing built up pressure, stretching your toes. Move to blow out the candles, but the letter reappears.

You really are turning out to be quite dull.

Brows scrunch with hurt, then even out. It’s ridiculous to be upset over behaviour he’s made no effort to hide. You shouldn’t be surprised he’s not changing, yet you had hoped…

Swallow, then sigh, the pen feeling heavy in your hand.

And you’re unnecessarily barbed.

(Who taught you to be that way, Eris?)

(Am I going to grow up to be like you?)

Paper vanishes, but you find yourself awaiting a reply. Marinating in your room while your lids grow heavier, shoulders slumping with fatigue, the base of your spine beginning to ache.

Stand from your desk, eyes flicking unwillingly to your nightstand, a small, royal blue gift box sat neatly atop it. The tule bow as resplendent as ever—shifting between vivid purples, reds, and pinks. Azriel’s gift.

(Sometimes, when it gets particularly bad, I like to look at it before I go to sleep. Fantasise about being the female he likes, instead of the one I am.)

(Sometimes, when I want to indulge in misery, I like to imagine dressing up for him. Imagine him telling me how pretty I am, imagine him sliding the golden hooks into pointed ears.)

(Sometimes I imagine.)

(Sometimes I imagine, because it’s the closest to reality I’ll ever get.)

Hear the distinct sound of paper on the table, and you still. End up turning anyway. Move over to your desk, reading the message.

You can do better.

Write again when you’re ready to show your claws.

Slump into the seat, head tipping back, staring up at the ceiling. Arms fall dully to your sides, too tired to feel anything.

Sigh heavily, forcing yourself to stand in favour of pulling away your clothes. Rid yourself of every constraint, pendant clunking on the bedside table.

The same-old, off-white cotton night gown swallows you, falling to your ankles as you settle into the mattress.

And to think, you’d been considering asking what things were like in his court.

How nice it might have been to make a trip of your own.

General Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks

Az Taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter @positivewitch

CBMTHY Taglist: @impossibelle @naturakaashi @sakurafrost3-blog @ficienjoyedrbspot @azriels-shadowsinger @marina468 @misstea12 @going-through-shit @fussel9913 @minakay @i-am-infinite @wannabewolf @thegirlintheshadows101 @kennedy-brooke @esposadomd @horneybeach1 @jeannineee @harrystylesfan2686 @tothestarsandwhateverend @abysshaven @starlight-hope @stupidwingboy @nastynesta @luvmoo @furiousbooklover @kuraikei @kemillyfreitas @chasing-autumns-chill @marvelpotter @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @nightcourt-daydreaming @vanderlinde @fall-myriad

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x yn #azriel angst #azriel acotar #CBMTHY #azriel x reader angst #CBMTHY Chapter 8

[k-daydreams]

The Pursuit of Feeling Alive: II. Acting Coy

Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader

Synopsis: cousin to Rhysand and Morrigan, y/n was once her family’s golden child. Faced with trials and tribulations her whole life, she needed reprieve— a distraction. Until a surprise homecoming opens Pandora’s box, and gives y/n a reality check. Especially facing her once close friend Azriel. Friends to Enemies to lovers trope.

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: swearing, angst, angst, angst!! Ooc Azriel being a dick?, flashbacks, mentions of trauma

Author’s note: wow wow, thank you everyone for the support! Kinda strayed from my original idea of this fic, but I’m loving it more. As always like, reblog, and please give feedback if ya can! I love all the messages I’ve been getting! It makes me so excited for this! Anyways enjoy and lmk if you want to be added to taglist?!

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

You stood on the corner of the balcony attached to your bedroom in the House of Wind, gazing up at the remarkable Night Court sky. The stars twinkled above, painting the velvet canvas, while a gentle breeze enveloped you, carrying with it the faint scent of jasmine, a delicate reminder of Velaris' beauty. Aware that this might be your final stay in the city for a while, you cherished every precious moment, savoring the sights and sensations that had become familiar and comforting.

Tomorrow morning marked the beginning of a new chapter in your life—a journey to the Spring Court with your parents and the rest of the night court, where you would wed and live with your soon-to-be husband, the eldest son of the High Lord. Leaving the House of Wind was no easy task, for it had become your sanctuary, but it was your duty to follow the path laid before you. The weight of tradition and family expectations had been ingrained in you since childhood, shaping you into the dutiful daughter you strived to be, hoping to bring honor to your family's name. Sacrificing your own hopes, dreams, and aspirations was not in vain, or so you convinced yourself, fearful of the consequences of pursuing a different path.

As you basked in the soft glow of the moonlight, you allowed its radiant embrace to caress your bare arms, feeling a connection with the celestial bodies above. The gentle luminescence seemed to emanate from your own skin, illuminating the periphery of your vision. Tonight, you felt too numb to dim that light, to suppress the thoughts that consumed you. You had just embraced it all. It had been almost a year since your dormant abilities had awakened, making every fire and faelight burn tenfold, announcing your extraordinary powers. Since then, you have dedicated yourself to honing those powers, training relentlessly while also still excelling in your studies and various skill sets. It had also been almost a year since you were promised to a man in whom you held no interest.

The weariness had settled deep within you, amplified in recent weeks by the wedding preparations and the intense mental shield training by Rhysand. The purpose behind this training was to safeguard Velaris and the secrets of the Night Court from the prying minds of daemati, ensuring no slip of information would jeopardize your mission. Rhysand didn’t hold back with training, pushing you, and when you thought he couldn’t push anymore he found away to break you past the point. No amount of tonics and headache powders could help the pain that raged in your head, even making your body ache. You wished to snap, to surrender to the madness— senility seemed like a preferable alternative to the path laid out before you. You knew better than that.

A rustling sound behind you alerted your senses, accompanied by sturdy footsteps that landed with certainty. Without needing to guess, you knew who had joined you on the balcony, and for the moment, you wished for the company of only your own thoughts. That's why you had taken dinner in your room, denying even your handmaiden's presence. You didn't want your family or the court to witness the turmoil brewing within you. How vulnerable you actually were.

"You've been avoiding everyone," Azriel stated, his voice carrying from the opposite side of the balcony. His massive wings were relaxed hung over the railing, his elbows propped on the ornate material. Though he stood a step away, his shadow slid across the tiled floor, subtly wrapping itself around your ankle in a comforting greeting—a gesture you were too stubborn to admit brought solace.

"I've been preoccupied with making sure everything is ready for tomorrow and the wedding," you replied coolly, feigning detachment.

"You have people for that," he countered, a sliver of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Azriel possessed the uncanny ability to read you like an open book—it was, after all, his skill as the Spymaster. It was more than the skill he had as he has been your friend for almost a century already, and he just knew by this point. He could sense whenever you were distressed, angry, happy, or on the verge of breaking apart.

"I'd like to ensure that all my belongings reach the Spring Court safely," you retorted with a nonchalant tone, your hands resting on your hips. Even if he was right, he was the last person who should be visiting you without a chaperone. The high lord was very strict with orders on who could visit you. Azriel was not one of them.

"Bullshit," he coughed, crossing his arms. You turned to face him, glaring, carefully observing his appearance. Dressed in his customary Illyrian fighting leathers, black and glazed, black gloves concealing his scarred hands, his blue siphons shining bright against your own radiant glow, his onyx hair neatly pushed back, not a strand out of place, and his jawline clean-shaven, he looked as fresh as a daisy, despite his busy schedule.

"Have you considered the possibility that I simply don't want company?" you queried, your tone laced with defiance. He chuckled at your stubbornness in a humorless way, rubbing his hand over his face.

"Your affairs are encroaching on mine at this point," he sighed, his frustration not directed at you, but rather at the fact that you had become a pawn in the grand scheme orchestrated by the High Lord, Kier, and your father. Another piece sacrificed in this intricate game of war, and it was unfair to you. While you remained oblivious to what lay ahead, Azriel had an inkling of the ordeal awaiting you. His spies had informed him about your soon-to-be husband and the nature of his family. He had known the court was everything you despised despite having everything you loved. He knew you were about to become the Spring Court's most prized olive branch and trophy once the night court handed you off, and he couldn’t do nothing about it.

"Sorry if my call to duty is so bothersome for you, Spymaster," your blood began to boil, indignation rising within you. He was upset? You were the one marching toward your sole purpose in life, or so you had been led to believe. It felt like you were going to your own funeral. Yet he wanted huff and puff in annoyance?

Azriel raised his hands in defense as your anger escalated. "I say this out of genuine concern for you, dear dove," he said, his voice gentle. Your heart fluttered at the nickname your friend had used for you—an endearing term that had started as teasing but had evolved into something deeper for you. "I know this isn't easy for you. Morrigan sends her wishes as well."

You scowled, your heart aching for what your family had put Morrigan through when she refused a preordained fate. You wished you possessed even a fraction of her bravery. But you were not her; you were yourself—the Night Court's shining jewel, the rare black diamond that they had painstakingly cultivated and finally gotten right.

"Azriel, what if I can't do this? What if I make a mistake?" Your throat tightened, your body trembling as you fought back the anguish welling up inside you. "I'm so fucking scared," you whispered, a tear escaping and trickling down your cheek. Azriel approached, closing the distance between you, and pulled you into his strong arms. He cradled your head with his gloved hand, the other rubbing soothing circles on your back, while his shadows gently played with the ends of your hair. The dam burst, and sobs wracked your body as you silently cried in his embrace, finally succumbing to the weight of it all. You could smell the mist and cedar on him, and it sent waves of solace through your body. It was one of your favorite smells, if not the top favorite on your list.

"You're going to do more than great," he whispered, his voice a gentle reassurance amidst the storm. "You're going to be the most intelligent, talented, and powerful woman to ever grace the Spring Court with your presence." He gently pulled away, cupping your tear-streaked face, wiping away the evidence of your pain. His hazel irises bore into yours, and a sincere look on his face as he continued. "Did I mention the prettiest as well?" A faint smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you rolled your eyes, appreciating the attempt to lighten the mood. You pulled him back to you, just needing to savor his warmth and presence for a little while longer. He didn’t protest, just rubbing your back as his shadows still continued to play with your hair.

After a while, you pulled away feeling your eyes were getting heavy. "I suppose I should get some sleep. Thank you, Az," you sniffled, your voice still shaky. He nodded, offering you a closed-lip smile.

"Of course, dear dove," he nodded, the moonlight still casting its ethereal glow upon you, making even your stray tears appear crystalline. Retrieving a small box from his pocket, he handed it to you—a black box adorned with a deep purple ribbon. "From all of us. You don't have to open it right now."

You took the box from his hand, your fingers lingering for a moment on his gloved one. He seized the opportunity and pulled you into another embrace, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. Your heart swelled at the gesture. Azriel may have been aloof most of the time, but when it mattered, he was compassionate. You could only hope your husband would possess a fraction of his considerate nature. He pulled away, and you wiped the remaining tears from your face.

"Goodnight, Y/n," he murmured.

"Goodnight, Az," you nodded, watching him as he moved away. His wings rustled before taking flight into the shimmering night sky of Velaris. You allowed him several meters of distance before entering your room. Sitting on your bed, you toyed with the small box, anticipation building within you. Unable to resist any longer, you opened the gift.

Inside, nestled on a bed of purple velvet, was a stunning jewelry set adorned with black diamonds. They were the most exquisite pieces you had ever laid eyes upon. A note was tucked beside them, signed by Rhysand, Morrigan, Cassian, and Azriel:

For our little star.

You had been heavy in thought all morning, memories haunting you, filling your heart with a weird sense of deja-vu. Preparing to leave for the Night Court proved to be a daunting task while nursing a hangover. At least you were staying for another few days, only gathering some belongings to leave with Morrigan when the inner circle left this morning. You wanted to tie up loose ends before leaving the Day Court and returning to the city of Velaris. You couldn't bear to leave Helion clueless on what stood in your affairs at his court; you had left too many loose ends in your life already. This time you were determined to at least end this chapter of your life closed and on a better note than all the others in your life.

The faint smell of the wildflowers and honey from the colorful gardens below breezed through the windows, and light from the morning sun glittered your skin where it was exposed as you moved around your room. You savored the feeling on you as it absorbed through your thin night clothes and robes as you packed. The light was hard to ignore as it buzzed in your veins, the frequency low compared to what it felt like when you weren’t hungover. Your head was already spinning, a whirlwind of emotions and nerves churning about. It was hard to tell whether the flutter in your stomach came from nerves or the remnants of the wine you had indulged in the night into the early morning. A big thanks to Mor, who never allowed your glass to be empty.

You had packed a decent size sack of clothes, but glamoured it into a small coin purse so Mor could easily bring it to Velaris without straining herself too much. Her room was further down at the end of the hall from yours, where she had always stayed in the Day Court (when she had not occupied Helion’s room). Not feeling the need to change out your night clothes yet, you left your room with the coin purse to go visit your cousin.

The day court palace was ethereal and heavenly. Everything from the statues, the molding around the high domed ceilings, the pillars that lined the halls of the palace, to the tiles of the floor were made of marble and quartz. The dome ceilings had murals painted of past day court rulers, great battle scenes from the Great War, and even some of Helion’s closest friends and court members. The halls had endless windows to let the sunlight in with balconies and verandas attached that held sitting areas of gold and champagne colored silk chairs and tables scattered about facing the best views of the grounds.

As you strolled down the hallway, the sunlight embraced your skin, leaving a warm sensation lingering upon you. The rings adorning your fingers glimmered, casting reflections on the polished floor. It was these little details that you would surely miss once you departed—the comforting warmth of the Day Court and the ability to harness your power so effortlessly. In the Night Court, where the moon and stars reigned supreme, the sun’s brilliance was muted, and manipulating light consistently proved more challenging. Lost in your own world and lost in thought, you failed to notice who was walking your way.

“Y/n!”

You looked over and saw Cassian, Nesta, Elain, and Azriel walking towards you. You mustered up a brave face, offering a meek smile. Azriel’s shadows came out of nowhere, swirling and circling up his arms. Almost like they were chirping to him. He subtly shook his arm to rid them, not looking impressed.

“Good morning,” you greeted, tucking your robe closer to your body, trying to cover up a bit more. You couldn’t help but notice the awe in Elain’s and Nesta’s faces as they looked at you. You didn’t think it was because you were in your night clothes either.

“You're glowing,” Nesta said with inquisition, ignoring your greeting. Your skin even through the mesh of your robe shined lightly emanating a soft glow.

Your cheeks reddened and you willed the light down into your being, not doing a great job as it seemed to shine brighter. Cassian smiled broadly, his wings rustling in amusement. Azriel had remained stoic close behind Elain. His facial expression was unreadable, a big contrast to the wonder in the young woman’s face.

“Didn’t I tell you she did that?” Cassian wrapped his arm around his mate, and her eyebrows furrowed together looking at him. She reminded you of a black apothecary cat that hated almost everyone, and Cassian was the stray golden long haired dog that roamed around the streets of Velaris begging for pets and food. It was odd, but sweet.

“I thought you meant figuratively.” She pushed him away slightly, fixing her hair.

“No, no it’s actually literal.” You tried to add a playful tone to your voice in an attempt to diffuse your unease. You felt naked and improper in front of them in just your night clothes. It didn’t help, they were already dressed for the day, all in their traveling attire.

“Intriguing,” Nesta hummed in curiosity.

“I think it’s beautiful,” Elain spoke up. “You’re truly the star they say you are.” You looked at the middle Archeron sister, her features soft and dainty. Her brown eyes are warm like toffee and her hair matched. She had reminded you of yourself many many centuries ago. “I had a lot of time to read in the libraries.”

“I’m in books, I didn’t realize I was of significance.” The statement came out harsher than intended. The feeling of indifference was powerful towards your biological family.

“You are one of the most important court members to exist. Of course you're in the Night Court texts.” Azriel muttered. “No need to act coy.” Though his voice was calm and level, you knew that had been intended as snark.

Your softened gaze hardened as you glared at him, “I’m not being coy, just genuinely surprised because I was also one of the most shunned members.” The air was now heavy with an unsaid tension as Cassian and the sisters looked between Azriel and you. This was the first time you’ve talked to him in over fifty years, of course it was meant to be an argument. Cassian should’ve expected this, knowing his brother's feelings and how your temper got. Knowing how you ended things and the complex history between you two.

“Surprised you’re always put on a pedestal, no matter what your status is?” He jeered. Your could feel your inner rage ignite in your veins. You weren’t some pretty prize or trophy. Not anymore at least.

“Nesta, Elain let me show you the gardens.” Cassian suggested casually. Nesta looked entertained that she got to see the shadowsinger break his mask of cool, but quickly got annoyed at her mate who was pulling her away. Whereas Elain looked hesitant, bracing a hand on Azriel’s muscular bicep, showing her concern before trailing behind her sister.

“We’ll see you back at Velaris, Y/n.” Cassian put his hand on your shoulder walking past you and shooting Azriel a pointed look, escorting the women to the gardens; leaving the other Illyrian male and you alone. You watched as Elain walked away, Azriel’s shadows came out once again alerting the male in front of you.

Your narrowed eyes and the lurch in your stomach betrayed the surge of emotions you felt as you observed him staring after her. That look, the same one he used to give Mor when he thought no one else was watching, the one you used to yearn for—now it made you sick. An insatiable, jealous feeling clawed at you.

“Moved on, I see.” You chided, not being able to filter your mouth. You knew it was a low blow, knowing what you did know, but at this moment you didn’t care. Any warmth you felt from the past night had dissipated and you let your heart iced over once more.

“That’s none of your concern.” He uttered. His eyes a dark hazel as he took you in finally, without the stares of others following. You wanted to shudder under his dark gaze, but you held your composure standing taller, chin jutted out. He stalked towards you until his face dangerously close to yours, his frame towering over you. His steady breath hit your face as he spoke lowly. “Nor are matters in the Night Court.”

You could feel the flames building and intensifying inside you. “Is my appearance not wanted by you Spymaster?” Rhysand said he wouldn’t admit that missed you, but surely this couldn’t be the same Azriel that your cousin had spoken about last night.

He scoffed, “you ran away from us after you were freed. You didn’t even send a letter. I-we had to find out from Rhys once he came back from the cabin!” His smooth voice now gruff from his raising it. Azriel hardly raised his voice at anyone, but when it came to you, he would raise his voice until no words came out.

Your blood was boiling at assumptions he made. “You don’t know what I went through! You won’t ever know!” You exclaimed, feeling your eyes burn tears ready to spill.

“Your right, I won’t ever know.” He said with a scary calmness. “I don’t want to know either. You’re selfish for running away, leaving us. When you don’t want to deal with shit that’s what you do— run. Then what happens? We rescue you from whatever shit show you’re in. If it wasn’t an order from my high lady, I wouldn’t have come last night to your pity party.”

You were speechless, you could feel your stomach drop. Those were choice words he made, and each one was a stab to the stomach. He knew you hadn’t had a choice when you were married off to that monster. Azriel knew it wasn’t your fault that he went off and murdered your cousins. It wasn’t your fault his family was so scared of you for being too powerful so they had done terrible things to you. But he still threw it in your face as if it was your choice. You never had a choice. His face was expressionless again, “but anyways welcome home, Y/n.” His tone was void of any kindness as he brushed your shoulder passing you.

You could feel a couple tears finally slip down your flushed cheeks as you stood alone in the hall. Unsure of what had gone so wrong between Azriel and you for him to act so out of character. What made you want to get under his skin so bad that it only ended up with you hurting more. He had acted the same way before you followed Rhysand under the mountain, when he had tried to convince you not to go. He screamed, shouted, cried, and almost had his shadows restrain you, just so you wouldn’t leave. Now he wanted nothing to do with you.

You choked on the lump stuck in your throat, turning back to go to your room. When Mor was ready she knew where to find you. For now, you had decided it round two of your pity party.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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Taglist: @rachelnicolee @tcris2020

#azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel x reader #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #lucien acotar #lucien vanserra x reader #lucien vanserra #cassian x reader #rhysand x reader #rhysand acotar #feyre archeron #feyre archeron x reader #feyre acotar #nessian #nesta acotar #elain acotar #azriel shadowsinger fic #pofa #azriel fanfic #inner circle fic #inner circle #azriel shadowsinger imagine #Azriel shadowsinger smut

[unidentified-ending]

What's up bro! I was just wondering weather you could make a little oneshot-headcanon about a male student in aizawas class who's younger brother (age 4-5) is quite dangerous due to his quirk but he's never done anything and he's been declined from multiple daycares and his parents are super stressed but Aizawa ends up taking the male reader younger brother to U.A's daycare and everyone in the dorms loves him bc he's so cute.

Thanks man, have a good day!!!!!

A/N: of course bro, this request is so cute so buckle up for some fluffy, maybe ooc aizawa and a cute younger brother.

This can be read as a trans or cis dude but if trans js imagine you got top surgery at a young age (not that young tho!). It's not mentioned anyways

Your parents were stressed. Like stressed stressed.

Your younger brother with (h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes was boping around in your living room.

His name was Kuragari and he could destroy all of reality in one clap of his hand

But it's never happened before, but most people stay away from the cute ball of happiness.

When he was a child (2-3), everyone would stay away from him but he had you

Y/n L/n, a (personality trait) boy who was in class 1a, UA. Aspiring hero, and the best brother anyone could ask for.

Anyways back to the point.

Your parents were stressed, Kuragari's power was getting in the way of his daycare applications.

He was dangerous and so nobody came near him bc of "the sake of the other children"

And your parents both worked and you went to school so it was a hell of a time trying to do something for him

He'd usually get a baby sitter but he'd cry a couple of hours in, begging for you and his parents.

Which made either you, your mother or father come home from work early and have to settle him down

But that when the offer of you life came true.

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

"Y/n" you hear a faint voice call for you.

"Y/n!" The same voice but louder said again.

"Y/N!" The person said and you shot up straight away, the redness in your eyes and the bags under them were a huge sign of no sleep.

You looked around, you were in your classroom but nobody was in there, just your homeroom teacher calling out for you.

"Yes sir! I'm up, I'm up." You exclaimed into the empty room, your brother had woken up crying at exactly 2:27 am yesterday night and your parents wouldn't wake up so you had to deal with Kuragari by yourself and that lasted duntil 4:16 am when he decided to sleep. And you knew you had to wake up at 7 tomorrow so only 3 hours of sleep didn't toll well on your body.

"It's break, why are you still sleeping?" Aizawa questioned, though not making any visable facial expressions.

"I-uh, I just didn't get enough sleep. I'm okay" You said, blinking in drowsiness

Aizawa raised an eyebrow and said "Are you sure? Is there something I need to know?"

"Nah, not really. It's just my younger brother Kuragari. He's been declined by so many daycares' bescuse his quirk is too dangerous for the daycare but hes never actually used it before." You explain and Aizawa listens intently.

"He can break reality in one clap of his hands but he's so cute, he's 5 this year and me, my mother and my father have been extremely stressed about this issue because nobody can baby sit him for more then five hours before he starts to throw a fit and cry. And we have to take care of him at night and its very tiring."

Aizawa listened to your story all the way through and at the end he said, "How about we take him and we can take care of him? It's up to your parents though." Your eyes glimmered at the idea and you told him you'd ask them this evening.

That evening~~~~

"Mum, Dad. I've got news! Sensei Aizawa said he's take in Kuragari into the U.A daycare! Only if you want." You exclaimed when you got into the house and ran straight into your living room.

"Wait what?" Your father said, a hint of surprisment in his voice. "Really?" You mother said, a huge smile growing on her face.

"Yes!" You shouted with picking up your little brother and he immediately started laughing and clapping his hands together in excitement even though he had no idea what you were talking about.

A few hours later

"So what do we need to do to get Kuragari in there?" Your mother said while feeding him some food.

"Nothing, we just have to bring him in tomorrow and they take him in, look after him and there is another sweet girl called Eri in there. She's so sweet and I think they would get along together."

"Are you sure about this, honey?" Your father said to your mother

"It's a opportunity we must take. For the sake of our sleep" Your mother yawned.

Your father nodded on agreement.

"Alright then, but it's your responsibility to dress and wash him in the morning because we have work tomorrow. Fair?" Your father asked while taking a sip of his coffee.

"Fair" you agreed while picking up Kuragari and placing him on the couch and turning on some baby shows.

The next morning~~~~~~

You looked at a snoozing Kuragari at 6:50 am. You knew he was gonna throw a fit about waking this early but he had to get up.

You picked up the snoozing boy and cradled him in your hands, gently rubbing your finger over his forehead to wake him.

He started to fidget in your hands and kick his legs about. That's when he opened his ayes and started wailing.

"Shh, shh it's okay. I need you to wake up for me." You say as you kissed his head and put him in his baby chair.

You made his baby breakfast and ate your own, he was still glaring at you for waking him up early.

After that, you ran a bath for the two of you while he played with some of his toys.

"Kuragari." You exclaimed and he came crawling over to the bathroom with a toy car in his hand.

You undressed him and put him in the bath and you also got in. He flapped around with his bath toys in the bath, accidentally hitting you with some bubbles.

"You silly child" you sighed before taking him out and dressing him in some new clothes.

"Alright lil bro, I'm gonna carry you to school today. So climb on my back." You said while taking your keys and unlocking your front door.

You crouched down do he could climb on your back and he crawled up your back and seated himself right on your shoulders.

Off you two go to school~~~

Surprisingly you were the only two there in your class. Mean class did start at 8:20 and you two got there at 7:59 so it was pretty early.

You went to sit at your desk and then you took your brother off your head and placed him on your desk, then placed your own head on the desk, hoping for some of your own sleep.

Your promised it would 5 minutes but 5 minutes turned into 15.

Your self-consciousness was telling you to get awake and that's when you shot up awake, immediately in search for you younger brother.

"Kuragari" you said, your eyes darted across the room but all you could see were your fellow classmates crowded around something..or someone.

"Where's my brother?" You said in panic and the whole class looked at you in surprise.

"You mean this bundle of joy" Denki said as he held your smiling and laughing brother in his hands.

Your face immediately relaxed, you hadn't lost him.

"I'm so sorry guys-" you started but Mina interrupted.

"There no need to be sorry he's so cute!" She said while the rest if the class agreed with him. You went to join the classmates of yours and when he saw you he did his signature grabby hands and you picked him up.

"Bakugo saw you sleeping when he came in then me spotted your brother on his desk. He carefully just put him back on your desk and sat down."

Bakugo tsked at his desk but didn't deny it.

"What's he even doing here anyways?" Sero says as he laughs with Kuragari.

"Oh it's a long story, so-" then a door slammed open and Aizawa walked in.

"What is going here?" He questioned and everyone moved out the way of Kuragari and Aizawa had one look at the child and back at you and he knew you two were siblings.

Kuragari on the other hand started to cry at the old grizzled man and immediately started to grab onto Deku's shirt.

"Sorry man, he's a bit grumpy. I'll take him out." You say to deku and he waves it off completely fine.

When you walk out of the room, Aizawa walked out as well.

"Sorry sensei, he's just-"

"Yeah yeah, I know. Let's just get him in the daycare and we can start lessons" Aizawa said and the two of you walked to the daycare in silence.

You dropped him off to the daycare in silence where he met Eri and they got along together.

The two of you walked back together to class in silence before Aizawa said. "He looks like you".

"Really?" You say, surprised at the comment.

"Yeah, I bet he's a hard one to deal with."

"Oh he is" you say, enjoying the small talk.

"I can see where he gets it from" he says and you accidentally let out a chuckle.

You knew you had a good teacher.

#mha #my hero academia #sfw #aizawa sensei #aizawa shouta #aizawa x reader #bnha #bnha aizawa #bnha x male reader #bnha x reader #children #mha x male reader #aizawa x male reader #fluff #platonic #cute #baby boi #mha aizawa #bhna #class 1a #bhna x reader #bhna fluff #male y/n #male #ftm reader #cis man #cis male #trans guy #transgender #reqs open

[lorebite]

HERO OF THE DAY | L.K

↳ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: being an anti-B.O.W agent has never been easy; and you more than anyone else know how lonely it can get in this line of living. However, what you didn't expect was to have your heart stirred when you set eyes upon one Leon Kennedy - the newest recruit. ↳ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. fem reader. cursing. 2 part smut; voyeurism, implied masturbation, handjob, switchy vibes. some sweet gentle love making, Leon cumming too quickly bc he's too fucking sensitive (i swear, i couldn't resist it 😩), age gap relationship (younger man x older woman), reader is Leon's CO, pet names used for reader: Lieutenant, miss, sweetheart, honey. very subtly implied depression, PTSD and sducidal ideations, rookie!Leon. ANGST (beware. i mean it) but also some sweet, sweet fluff. reader is a smoker. mutual pining (kinda?). idiots in love (or lust?). reader shows questionable behaviors at times. title is taken from a Metallica song by the same name. this fic is a prequel to my return to ashes fic but it can totally be read as a standalone as well. in this universe, Sherry Birkin and Jack Krauser don't exist cos i think it makes better sense for this fic that way. very inaccurate depiction of military training and whatnot. also, terribly OOC.

In the beginning, the whispers were overbearing. Nonsensical. Rare was a time a new recruit managed to cause such a stir at the base. And this was even long before those sweet eyes became a constant presence amongst the rest.

You were vexed. Much more you cared to admit even to yourself. Leon Kennedy – this fresh-faced ex cop who witnessed the hell that was unleashed upon Raccoon City. You were certainly empathetic; having the unfortunate title of a walking hoard of scarring memories yourself, you held significant regards for the young man. And besides that, most recruits hadn’t the first clue about the horrors of your shared reality. 

However, you found it very hard to close your eyes to his bold antics. The same way every other one of his superiors – your colleagues – seemed to do. 

A real troublemaker, this boy. Not that you have ever caught him in his roguery. But you knew. That face was telling enough on its own; the permanent look of mischief in his eyes and the faint quirk of his lips that made it seem as though he was always up to no good. And of course, word was always quick to spread around the base of all the shit he liked to do. 

This boy had been caught out after the curfew one too many times; and for what goddamn reason each time, you could only wonder. You have seen him, multiple times, being dragged by the ear to someone’s office many early mornings. And you had to admit, he still had quite the mouth on him despite the number of troubles he got himself into. You were only grateful to have never been the one to deal with his shit, your patience too little to put up with such behavior.  

But it didn’t help that he was one of your combat trainees. And those times offered a glimpse into the cracks of his well-behaved façade. He always made sure to stand ahead of everyone in the training field – just within your line of sight where he could have your undivided attention. And he knew he had it. Fully and completely. It was easily impossible for you to ignore the way his clear eyes glittered in the sunlight or how his hair glowed like molten gold. And he knew all of that.

Even during partnered practices – those times when you treaded between the rows of trainees – those were when he truly shined. He would deliver his blows a little bit harder, grunt a little bit louder, or boast more self-righteously to his opponent. Just to draw your eyes to him every time you walked past him. It was as if he’d made it his days’ mission to pester you until you snapped. Because, obviously, you couldn’t punish him for just being a cocky showoff, could you? 

Now, to you, this wasn’t some peculiar behavior. You were used to becoming the currency for the attention slot of the younger men at the base. You were a hardened, experienced agent after all. An exceptionally talented yet young lieutenant with enough wins to your name to make an average man quiver in his shell just from your mere presence. The bonus factor was your incredible physic and a pretty face to go with which never failed to make heads turn. Therefore, very few and far in between were the times you were openly disrespected and many were for the recruits to seek your praise. 

However, often times, you spared no more than a few curt words of affirmation to your trainees; which you were confident they lapped up like starved puppies. It was entirely out in the open and this was also why you weren’t a stranger to being at the receiving end of your coworkers’ relentless teasing. You only imagined this to become even worse if it ever got out that you were involved with one of the recruits.     

But with Leon, it was different. With him, everything was different. He forced you to notice him even when you deliberately intended otherwise. It was too easy for him to walk up to you and gather enough courage to touch your shoulder when he threw his head back and laughed at your dry humor or palm the small of your back to guide you through a door. Almost as if he was driven by this quenchless greed to have your eyes on him at all times and envy when you didn’t. 

You could only wonder where you went wrong with him.

Because it was sorely pathetic. Truly. The stupidly large smile that would part his face into two upon the simplest words of praise out of your mouth was comical. And perhaps, on your better days, you found it endearingly entertaining. 

That was until your suspicions were proven correct. You had believed for long enough now that Leon Kennedy was nothing but a troublemaker and soon, you came to see for yourself why.

It was just another restless night for you; a regular one that fell into the damning familiarity of blood curdling nightmares, riddled with a crippling fear that trapped you within your shell and gripped your throat until it decided to let you go. The cruel souvenir of your missions and endless reminder of all you left behind and not. 

You woke soaked to skin with cold sweat, heart pounding painfully fast against your ribcage. You were still at the base in that shoebox you called your room. You were safe. You tried to remind yourself as your thoughts shifted to overdrive. Fast and unyielding. 

Moonlight filtered through the small window overhead, shedding columns of dancing shadows across the floor. You couldn’t let yourself just sit there and wallow in the darkness. You needed a distraction. So, you grabbed your lighter and a packet of cigarette and wandered out into the halls of the base in hopes of tiring yourself out enough to go back to bed for another hour of sleep. 

But you had only made it to the mess hall when you heard it.

Moaning. Giggling. They were hushed and cautioned but they were definitely there. It made your pulse leap and your hand freeze on the double doors leading into the kitchen once you turned one last corner. Your cigarette sat loosely between your lips as a trail of potent smoke flitted out into the air. This was beyond your fucking pay grade.

Hell, you didn’t believe you could recognize it but you did – the piercing tone of Leon’s voice was unmistakable. He was the loudest of the two, his small hoarse whines hitching every time his body thudded gently against the wall. Holy shit, you nearly blurted out; your eyes finally finding him in the darkness. His arms were pinned by his head, a nameless face buried in the crook of his neck and fuck if he didn’t look gorgeous like that.

You should’ve just turned around and walked away. You knew you should’ve. You should’ve resisted. But your brain failed to make that very simple command to your body. It instead flooded you with vivid thoughts of all you couldn’t see when you ducked back behind the corner of the wall, igniting a rebellious flame that quickly engulfed you whole. You stood there rooted to your spot, obtusely searching in the darkness as your ears rang with the shameless cacophony of pleasure.  

What the fuck am I doing? That remaining sliver of rationale screamed in your head, the burning heat of your cigarette creeping dangerously close to your lips. You were trembling, breaths labored, your one hand against the double doors clenched into a fist. 

It had been too fucking long. You were smothered in work and work and more work. Taking something for yourself, just for your own plain indulgence was never an option. Or rather, you never left the room for that option to grow. Now you were loitering – cowering in the dark, listening to your bratty trainee get fucked into the wall while you ached and questioned everything you once stood for. Really. What were you doing? 

You bridled at your newfound vulnerability in such a darned situation. So, you turned on your heels and hurried back to your room. Insomnia be damned. You had a throbbing need to nurse now. 

“Son of a bitch,” you muttered begrudgingly to yourself as soon as your back turned to the closed door of your room, fingers pressing ardently over your exhausted eyes. “Fuck. That was—”

But you shook your head, not allowing yourself to give anymore voice to your racing thoughts as you slipped back in your cot, twisting yourself in the thin white bedsheet and scolding your own misbehaving mind. 

But too long. It had been just too long. You’d almost forgotten you harbored all these emotions deep inside that cavity which was meant to hold your heart. Years and years of working yourself like a machine finally collapsing to bits over your head. Why did it have to take him for you to realize? Why this?

And maybe one of these days, you’d curse yourself for it. But right now, you were brimmed full with want and it didn’t take long for your fingers to slide between your thighs and seek release to the filthy thoughts of that same recruit you’d sworn yourself off of. Oh, how shameful indeed. But this was your reality now.

Weeks after that night were hellish. Purely torturous. You could no longer be around Leon and not be reminded of that mouthwatering image of his fucked-out face burned in the back of your mind and the memory of what you did with it; as much as it made a gnawing guilt rise like a choking lump up your throat. 

Leon’s goal to claim your attention was ever set in stone. And now, he intended to plant the seed of desire in you as well. Or perhaps, this was probably just you. You were almost convinced you were deluding yourself. But ignoring your newly budded suspicions offered very little resolution. Because you couldn’t ignore him. Not once did he yield his ways.

His touches had become more constant and lingering. His eyes practically two devouring maws downing you in one gulp. He only needed to open his mouth and he would dig a hole for your resolve to lie in. Yes, Lieutenant. Right away, Lieutenant. The way his tongue rolled around your title, and the way his voice swooped into a low melodious hum whenever he spoke it made your pulse race every damn time. The obedience and politeness a stark contrast to the devilish look on his face. 

It was indeed infuriating the level of power he seemed to hold over you now. It was as though your places had been swapped. You were now at his mercy – of what he found frustratingly entertaining at your expense. 

And finally, one late afternoon, his advances became much more targeted.

Mere minutes. That was all it took after your training ended for him to come barging into the changing room. You were only dressing back into your uniform when the door creaked open. You looked over your shoulder long enough to see Leon stepping in before you turned back around.

“Trainees aren’t allowed in here.” You commented flippantly. Though you didn’t believe that was enough to convince him to leave. He hardly ever sought you out privately like this so it had to be important. “And you forget how to knock?”

“I need to talk to you, Lieutenant.”

You hummed, sliding your fingers beneath the straps of your leather harness as you turned around to finally face the young man, brushing off the warm jolt of your heart upon hearing your title from his mouth again.

His eyes trailed the movement of your fingers donning your gloves. Those strong, deadly hands who were the despair of many enemies. He wondered how gently you’d take to him if you had the chance, burying such care and tenderness into his skin that could make him melt in your arms. The mere thought of it was making his knees grow weak. 

It took him a moment before he offered a hurried salute, a furious blush fanning across his cheeks. You bit your lip as it forced to twist into a playful, knowing smile.

“I think I might need some help with my—with my form.”

You arched a brow. Leon didn’t need help. He was the golden boy. Any recruit would be damn lucky to possess a shred of his prowess. But you decided to humor him nevertheless.

“But you’re acing all your trials. What’s the problem?”

And there it was. That charmed grin that broke upon his face immediately at your remark. An amused smirk finally tugged at the corner of your mouth as you waited for whatever excuse he was going to come up with, his intention growing quickly evident to you. 

“More training never hurt—right?”

Your smirk widened. “You mean you’re not sick of it, yet?”

A small smile ghosted over his lips, his eyes growing soft with fondness as he cocked his head. It made the hair bristle on the back of your neck, taken off guard by the sheer delicateness of his behavior. 

“I could never get sick of you, Miss.”

“That’s the spirit, rookie.” You sat a gentle hand on his shoulder and his eyes flickered down to where it touched him. Your crooked smile returned to your lips. “But don’t worry. I’ll push you so much you’ll be begging for it to stop. There’re still months away from your first mission.”

“You really think I can make the cut?”

“Depends how bad you want to become throwaway meat.” You snarked, scoffing a laugh.

Leon frowned and the cold pinprick of realization of your own words swept over your face. Perhaps it was too soon to start talking to an overeager recruit about the indefinite lows of being an agent. You didn’t know anything about his motivations or what he really believed he was going to get out of this decision that begged a lifelong commitment. But then again, he, of all people, had to know what the future held for him… right?

“Listen—” You breathed out a sigh, squeezing his shoulder fondly before letting go. “Let’s focus on getting you through the rest of your trials first. One step at a time, hmm?”

He gave a slow nod, fingers clasping in front of him, wringing and fidgeting. The conversation seemed to be over now but he remained there, lips flickering wordlessly as if he wanted to speak yet again.

“What is it? You wanna say something?” You prompted.

Leon began chewing his lip, immediately drawing your gaze to his mouth. You swallowed dryly as you drank in the tempting pink of his plump skin turning white under the assault of his teeth. Your mind instinctively wandered to the sweetness of his mouth upon yours, the warmth, the delicious moans he would utter against your lips. Fuck, snap out of it, you chastised yourself.

“Well—you know how none of the other trainees can keep up with me.” He started, cheeks endearingly flushed red, breath stuttering when you stepped closer to him. “You’re the best around here and I know you can take very good care of me.”

Even though he was peering down at you, that mischievous look on your face didn’t fail to make his heart stagger. As if you could see right through him. And of course, why wouldn’t you be able to? A woman of your caliber had her fair share of admirers. He for one knew what the boys in the barracks whispered about you when the lights were off. Hell, he was sure even some of your colleagues had the eyes for you. And to say that made him jealous was laughably undeserving of its true nature.

“I know one on one training with you would do me good.” He smiled. “And maybe you, too. I’m sure you’re aching to get your fists on something.” He tilted his head to the side, gaze burning deep into yours. “I’d offer myself.” 

You tossed your head back and laughed. It wasn’t cruel but sure as hell, it carried a hint of condescendence. There was a reason you refused to get on the training field with the rest of the recruits. After sweeping the legs from under one of the boys when he pestered you about ‘not enough hands on experience with a pro’, none of them dared to challenge you again. The memory of it was still fresh and yet, here Leon was making the same request to you.

“I like your ambition, rookie.” Your voice tapered into a low giggle; so seductive in tone, it woke goosebumps on his skin. “It’s adorable.”

He bit the corner of his lip before quickly letting go. It made your eyes trace back to his mouth again and he suppressed a smile. Two can play at a game, Lieutenant, he thought. All the cards were on the table. Weakness after weakness. This was a fair but draining fight, an aggressive push and pull that could only end with one side going against the currents. And it seemed as though you were both playing to make the other lose first.

“Please, Lieutenant. I really need your help. I’d do anything.”

He pleaded so longingly; it made warmth flutter dangerously low in your belly. Those round eyes and wet plump lips were your forbidden fruit. His hair looked so silky and soft; it gripped you with temptation to grab a fistful of it and pull without mercy until he was reduced to nothing but a whining, pathetic mess.

You smirked. “Then meet me after dinner at the gym. I might take you up on that.”

Leon was the first to make it later that evening. He had leapt from his seat as soon as he ate his last spoonful to head for the cramped indoor gym just across the mess hall. Adrenaline had already begun scorching under his skin and he hadn’t even seen you, yet. 

His mind roiled with the thoughts of being in your proximity; to have your fingers touch him and your warmth caress him. To have your pinpoint focus on him and only him. Those simple thoughts excited him more than it probably should’ve and he quickly found himself adjusting the front of his pants and palming himself with a vexed heave of a grunt, desperately trying to tame the hardness growing just under the fabric. He flinched when he heard the double doors flutter open.

“Miss.” He quickly turned in your direction, fingers touching his temple in salute. “You’re early.”

Your hands were stuffed inside your pockets and a small smile adorned your face. The bitter tang of tobacco burned his nose as soon as you were close. You had just come from a fresh smoke, he could tell. Strange. He was just now starting to realize he’s actually smelt that somewhere before. Not just around the base and at the training field where he usually caught you with a cigarette between your lips but… somewhere specific.

“You know those stuff will kill ya.” He commented and you merely hummed, the sentiment not fully sinking in. He waved a hand at you. “I saw you start your second pack just earlier.”

You shrugged. “We all have our vices.”

Vices, vices. Of course. Though faded it was, the memory was slowly coming back to him; the vast darkness of the mess hall, a silence ruptured by the voice of his own desperation. And that familiar smell. Humiliation quickly reared its fanged mouth to sneer at him.

“Let me see your hands.”

Leon offered his white wrapped fingers and you took them carefully into your palm, turning them and eyeing the handiwork before unlacing the white strips to fix the looseness around his thumbs. Your attention drew to the furiously red scabs on his knuckles as they revealed themselves and you frowned.

“I better not hear you’ve been overdoing your training.”

He didn’t respond. His eyes followed your strong arms as they finished his wraps before stepping away to shoulder off your jacket and hang it over one of the machines. You turned to him with a cocked brow, gaze expectant as you rolled your white sleeves up to your forearms, leather-clad fingers shining under the ceiling lights.

“You—you were there that night, weren’t you?” Leon croaked; his throat uncomfortably dry as he swallowed.

Your eyebrows twisted into another frown. At first, you were confused but the deep red of his face was all the explanation you needed to make your pulse throb in your ears. Leon scoffed impatiently, his entire body growing visibly tense as he threw an accusatory finger at you.

“Don’t give me that look. You know what I’m talking about. That—that fucking cigarette smell.” His head trembled as if he meant to shake it but couldn’t manage enough strength to do it. “I knew I recognized it. I smelt it on that night, too.”

You opened your mouth to protest but words failed to come to your aid. You only stole your gaze from him and pinned it to the ground.

“Why didn’t you stop me then?

“It was none of my business.” You met his eyes again, your hands curling into loose fists in a futile attempt to steady yourself as your entire body began to quiver. The look Leon gave you was enough to let you know he didn’t really believe your excuse. “You’re upset I didn’t? It’s not too late. I can still write you up.”

“You were watching me.”

Your fists gripped painfully tight, the velvety leather squeaking from the pressure, teeth gritting as you felt your resolution quickly ebb.

“Is that why you kept it to yourself this whole time?”

“That’s enough.”

Leon nearly recoiled at the cutting look of pure fury in your eyes. His lips fluttered but he couldn’t find the words to speak, his face tingled with the cold wash of embarrassment. 

“Are you done running your goddamn mouth, Kennedy?”  

He bit his lip. “Yes, Miss.”

“Good. Now give me ten laps around the posts.”

He choked down the complaints burning on the tip of his tongue, defeatedly making his way to the nearest column. He could see you in his periphery as he readied himself; arms crossed tightly over your chest, the worn look on your face replaced by one of contempt. You weren’t trying to run away so that had to amount to something. This was a conversation to be had later. He was going to make sure of it.

You weren’t paying much attention to him once he began; Leon could clearly see it every time he ran past you. You stared off into the distance, only occasionally raising your head to announce the number of the laps he finished. He resented the heft of the silence that weighed down between you, the tension that seemed to be winding only tighter and tighter. The stinging in his legs were slowly fueling his frustration the longer he went on and he was nowhere near done.

“Why are you doing this?” He grunted as he circled you once again, his eyes only fleeting over the vacant look on your face. “Are you really that fucking scared to talk about it?”

You were scared. Very much so, in fact. Underneath the stern, hard mask you’d donned sat the trembling frame of a simple woman stewing in the barrage of her own harsh reality. You were already riddled with the shame of all that you have done in the confinement of your own privacy but Leon continued to dig at your core, persisting to exhume the emotions you tucked away behind a veil of indifference and authority. 

Your arms gripped themselves more firmly across your chest, pushing yourself to ignore the distance that was shrinking between you as he progressively tightened the circles he ran around you. Your nails hooked themselves in your flesh, teeth gritting nervously.

“I just want to talk.” His voice came from behind you this time. He spoke so gently, it gripped at your heart. “I’m not upset. I just—” You felt the warmth of his hand caress the crook of your neck, carefully urging you to turn around. “I just want closure.” 

You remained steadfast to stay very still, afraid to meet those bright eyes again, fearful of how terribly your own body might betray you. You merely offered a small glance over your shoulder.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

His fingers slipped down your arm, his body nearly pressing to your back. You could feel his all too welcoming heat embrace you like a cocoon, the gentle waft of his breaths over the shell of your ear. The closeness was enough to make you feel light on your feet. He sounded much more annoyed when he spoke again. 

“I, on the other hand, think there’s a shit ton to talk about. So, turn around and look at me when I speak to you.”

You did. You spun slowly on your heels and finally faced him. His lovely face was crumpled. He looked utterly defeated. Debilitating shame began nipping at your heart again. Had you only stayed away that night – had you resisted temptation and did the only right thing.

“I asked you a question.” He demanded with a heavy frown, his grip turning iron tight on your arm and you stifled a grimace. 

You didn’t have it in you to be honest but at the same time, you couldn’t find the will to spit a lie straight to his face. Your features distorted into a scowl to match the one on his, teeth clenched and bared through an ugly snarl. What you did next shocked even yourself.

Leon didn’t see the fist flying towards his face in time and he stumbled back before he could retaliate, releasing your arm to catch himself against the column behind him. His eyes were wide and disbelieved; a hand plastered to the rapidly blossoming flush on his cheek. 

“I’m still your superior, Kennedy.” You growled. “You fucking respect me.”

A smirk, though faint, formed at his lips as he straightened himself. “Right now, you’re nothing but a desperate little coward to me. And since you’re too damn afraid to admit it—” He cocked his head, his glittering eyes hiding in the shadow of his unkempt fringe. “I’ll say it for you. You were there that night. I know because I smelt you.”

You stalked closer to him and in that instance, Leon suddenly felt truly unnerved. You no longer looked at him as if he were just a cocky recruit trying to get under your skin. You looked at him like a predator on a prowl, claws brandished to slash. Your shoulders were stiff and straight, your heels echoing menacingly in his ears as you walked closer towards him. 

“You better shut your mouth before I shut it for you.” You said, low and deep, eyes twinkling dangerously. It made goosebumps rouse on his skin but he held his ground. 

“You’re fucking pathetic.”

He knew very well he was playing with fire. He’d never seen you look so furious. So terrified. You were visibly shaking, furrowed brows twitching above your narrowed eyes – a cornered wounded wolf. That was what you were now. You were driven by anger or impatience and both were equally petrifying; the brilliant solider had leapt forth to project unto you. 

“Did you really think you wouldn’t get caught?” A teasing laughter bubbled up his throat. “Be honest with me just this once – did you touch yourself, too?” The look on his face grew more wicked at your prolonged, struggling silence. “Mhm, I bet you did.”

“Don’t flatter yourself—rookie.” The nickname came with much more bite this time and a pang of offense began growing deep in Leon’s chest, tugging immediately at his brows. “You’re barely my type.”

That was enough to push Leon into motion. His punch shot straight for your throat. You dodged just in time for his fist to dart past your neck. Raising your leg immediately, you kicked him in the stomach and he staggered back against the column with a pained groan, clutching at his shirt as he curled into himself. 

“That’s bullshit.” He panted, struggling to straighten himself back up, lips giving in to an unseemly smile. “I’ve seen you checking me out, sweetheart. Especially, when we train – you practically eat me up with those eyes of yours.”

A sharp, angry breath escaped through your nose, fists winding tight once more. Leon chuckled darkly. Bullseye. It was so easy to draw out those unspoken reactions that told enough all on their own; the stark change in your posture and face at every turn of his words was laughable. 

He grinned slyly as he continued, “can’t say it doesn’t stroke my ego a bit. You don’t give anyone the time of day. Yet, here you are.”

Your eyes narrowed into slits, chin tilted up as you stared at the young man down your nose. He held your gaze with his unwavering smile, knowing he now had you exactly where he wanted you most. Trapped with no way out. That was bound to make you finally spill your guts. 

“So, you might be saying one thing but everything you’ve done so far, isn’t convincing me.” He finished with a nonchalant shrug, his boyish smile growing wider across his lips. “It’s okay to have favorites, Lieutenant. Just admit it that I’m yours.”

You were stuck. Leon was adamant to do you in until nothing was left of you but the toxic concoction of your emotions; until you were stripped down to nothing but the bare bone of that terrifying truth hiding just within. You were truly stuck and you could feel yourself sink rapidly into despair. The quicksand you’ve created finally starting to swallow you whole.

“I know you like the big boys better and I promise you, Miss – I’m very big. I can show you. You just have to ask.”

“Do you have any idea what you’re asking for right now?” You rasped, face stricken with one look of pure defeat. Your inhibition slowly becoming lost to the beckoning cry of desire.

He nodded. “I know that I want you. Really fucking bad. And I told you I’d do anything.” He carefully reached for your wrist and held your hand close to the front of his pants. Your eyes fell on the bulging tension of his crotch and you swallowed, breath hitching in your throat. “So, I’m asking you to touch me and see for yourself. I’ll be good for you. Promise.”

You hooked your lip between your teeth, eyeing Leon’s pleading face before letting your gaze drop again to his crotch. He squirmed ever so slightly under the weight of your probing eyes, his fingers twitching over yours as they held onto you. This was it. You could finally have him.

He moaned shakily once your palm enveloped him, head lolling back against the wall. His hand gripped your shoulder as if you were his lifeline and he would collapse if he didn’t cling to you. Heat rushed through you as his hardness poked your hand and a wry smirk curled the corner of your mouth, confidence returning to your words.

“So hard already?” You chuckled teasingly. You leaned into his ear, breathing gently against the side of his face, your voice turning deep and husky. “Who’s the pathetic one now?”

Leon whimpered incoherently and a wicked grin broke upon your lips. You began pressing a trail of wet kisses to his jaw, humming softly against his skin the more he moaned, intrigued by the generous reactions coaxed by such simple gestures. Any louder and he could be heard through the doors had someone walked by.

“Such a needy little puppy. You’ve been dying to find a way to get my hands on you. That’s why you wanted to train in private, didn’t you?” He only whined in response, writhing against your hand to seek a rougher friction in spite of your miserly touch. You giggled. “Not so cocky now, huh?” 

“Please—please, Miss. I—I—” 

His trembling fingers pressed your hand harder to himself, holding your wrist firmly just to slide your palm back and forth over his cock. You let him have it, relishing in the succession of high-pitched moans that slipped through his lips.

“If you want something from me then I need to hear it first.”

“More. I – I need more.” He rasped. “I need to feel your hand on my cock. Please.”

You smiled as you kissed the corner of his mouth, your fingers starting to fidget with his belt and undoing his pants as quickly as you could. He breathed out a quivering sigh once the fabric grew loose and began slipping down from his waist. You slid a finger under the hem of your glove but Leon stopped you immediately.

“Keep them on. I don’t mind the leather.” 

Your smile broadened, twisting into a crude crooked grin at the corner of your mouth. Leon laughed breathlessly.

“God—that look in your eyes…” He sat a hand on the side of your neck, looking up at you through his long lashes, eyes sweetly round. “You’re dangerous. You could ruin me and I’d fucking let you.”   

You shushed him and he nodded obediently, sinking your gloved hand in his boxers with teasing speed. A loud moan erupted from Leon as the cold smooth leather engulfed him entirely. He bucked unwittingly into your touch, slipping clumsily in and out of your hold once you began stroking him. 

He plastered his palm over his mouth to sheath the uncontrollable noises tumbling freely out of him. You couldn’t help but snicker and his face immediately glowed a pretty flushed pink, a window of apprehension opening through the dazed look in his eyes.  

“You’re so fucking cute—gosh.” Your mouth pressed to his ear and he shuddered as you growled, “I want to eat you up. I want to fucking eat you all up.”

Your lips slipped below his jawline to trace the span of his soft neck. He gasped at the first kiss, a tiny giggle rising in his chest as his head jerked at your ticklish touch. You gripped him more tightly and the jovial bounce in his throat waned into a loud whine. His hips twitched at the firmness, his hand lightly pushing at yours as if he was suddenly too sensitive to touch. 

“S—so rough. Mhm!” He whimpered. 

You eased your hold on him and his shoulders instantly relaxed, a content huff of breath escaping his parted lips. But soon, he began moaning a complaint. “Use me. I can take it.” He mumbled through the slow pumps of your hand. “Don’t hold back on me, honey. Please.”

No more needed to be told. Your speed upped instantaneously and so did the tone of Leon’s moans, piercing and loud, and he had to muffle them against his palm again. Your teeth latched onto the delicate skin of his neck, roving and bruising every bit of free expanse they claimed.  

His curses were strangled, his moans purely made of inaudible sobbing sounds, spitting and shrill and filtering with ease through his fingers. He was getting close and you could also tell by the way he throbbed and leaked in your hand; and by the simple way he couldn’t get a proper string of sentence out to let you know.

“I’m… I’m… I’m gonna cum. You’re gonna – you’re gonna make me cum.”

“It’s alright.” You cooed under his ear. “You can cum for me. Go on, sweetheart.”

And as though you tugged on the strings of his orgasm like a puppet master, he came apart with a sonorous and dulcet moan, pouring himself into your fist. You carefully withdrew your hand as his erratic breaths slowly turned calm and even.

Leon eyed the glistening sleek coating your gloved fingers as they went back to hang at your side again. You really did it to him. Him. That was surely the unthinkable and he couldn’t believe his stroke of luck. His lips parted with a grin; a gesture which you returned as well until your eyes sought the large clock on the wall and a faint frown pulled at your face.

“Guess you have to skip laundry day this time.” He tried to earn back your attention as you turned away from him and slid off your gloves. But it was pointless. You weren’t looking back at him anymore. Worry quickly weighed down on his eyebrows as he busied his hands with his jeans. “But what about you?”

However, you were already moving towards your jacket. He was confused. What happened?

“I have to be up in a couple hours.” You sighed, adjusting the lapels of your jacket. “I’m going on a mission. If things go according to plan, it shouldn’t take more than a day.”

It was as if he was struck by the full weight of a crushing wave at the news. He knew this was your job and soon to be his. But he hadn’t anticipated the anxiety to hit him as hard as it did now. The lines of worry etched deep between his brows. You smiled.

“Don’t look so nervous now or I’ll start thinking you actually care about me.”

He scoffed in defiance but he didn’t say anything. Of course, he cared about you. But he couldn’t bring himself to speak it. It was embarrassing and he doubted this – whatever this was – went beyond just plain entertainment. Not that he minded. But your assumption felt like a stinging stab of insult. 

“I’m only doing a short protocol run in Raccoon City. But I won’t be on my own.” You explained. As if that could help.

His eyes shot up to yours at the mention of the city and you immediately regretted ever opening your mouth, muttering a curse under your breath. He strode towards you and gripped your shoulders. 

“I’m coming with you.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re staying at the base just like the rest of the recruits.”

“But—”

“None of that.” You raised your palm defensively. “My job right now is to protect you and this isn’t up for debate.”

“I’m perfectly capable. I survived an outbreak. A small protocol run is nothing. I can do it. I know I can.”

You raised your voice, your tone growing biting and authoritative. “You listen to me, Kennedy. I don’t care what your status was before you came here but right now, you’re not a soldier. So, when I say you can’t come along then you won’t. Am I clear?”

Leon turned solemn. His eyes, now hopeless and downcast, fell to the ground. You heaved a heavy sigh, sitting a gentle hand on the young man’s shoulder.

“Look, I can only imagine what you’ve been through,” you started, voice hushed and soft. “And I can tell that city means something to you. And I promise, one day, we’ll go there together. But today – try not to be a hero today.”

He nodded even though you could see how hesitantly, and you finally let your hand drop from his frame, a content smile ghosting over your lips. Leon reached for your wrist once you turned to walk away, his fingers pressing gently to your skin.

“Please be careful.”

You nodded. “Always.”

You were gone by the time Leon woke to begin his day. Training wasn’t the same without you as the substitute soldier watching over the field only reminded him of your absence. It shouldn’t have taken more than a day. So, he awaited your return impatiently. 

But how naïve he was to believe that? Of course, you had to have been merely comforting him. One small look at that pitiful look on his face and you leapt to remedy his worry. Because now it had been more than a whole day. Days even. And yet, no sign of you or the team who had gone with you. 

He asked around the base for you, the mission, anything that could ease the deadweight of dread in his stomach. However, the unresponsiveness was driving him insane; and learning to expect the worst since not long ago, he couldn’t stop from convincing himself that something had gone terribly wrong. 

Then, at long last on the eve of the third day, your helo showed in the clear sky over the base. But the air was already heavy as it landed and the soldiers deplaned, their number significantly less than when they first left. Something had truly happened. 

Leon held his breath as he sought your face amongst the rest, his pulse quickening more and more the longer you remained missing. And finally, the helo took off back towards the sky without you ever even showing up.

He felt his stomach sink, his knees nearly giving away underneath his weight. His eyes frantically searched the perimeter filled with the returning soldiers and the crowd gathered to welcome them back, hoping he had somehow missed you walking among them. 

“Did you hear what happened to those poor fuckers?” He heard a voice pipe up beside him. “Almost found none of their remains. Makes you glad you aren’t one of them, huh?”

Another voice chimed in. “It sure makes you believe in the cross and the lord.” A muffled chorus of laughter rolled between the bunch. 

Leon didn’t wait any longer to hear the rest of conversation, rushing back inside the base to where he could get a proper fucking word from someone. (Y/N), please, please, please be okay, his mind reeled with the thoughts. Fuck, I knew I should’ve convinced her to take me with them.

Without thinking twice, he turned the corner that led down to your office. He blinked and instantly, realization dawned on him. You were always there for him whenever he sought you out – always in possession of the answers he was looking for. And now you weren’t here to quell his fear like you always did. As he neared the polished wood of your door and raised his knuckles to knock, he feared you wouldn’t be there to welcome him like you always did. He feared that the unfortunate fate of those soldiers had befallen you as well.

All of a sudden, his eyes were drawn to the passing figure just down the hallway, catching enough sight of it to quickly realize the man was one of the soldiers accompanying you into the mission. Leon called out to him, his voice lost in the commotion, chasing after him through the narrow walls.

“Sir. A moment?” The older soldier only spared a brief glance at him, not stopping to fully acknowledge him. “Where’s Lieutenant (L/N)? Did she – did she make it back?”

For a long moment, the man remained silent and Leon thought his question was going to be unanswered yet again. Then he began dreading the actual answer – if it was going to put the seal of confirmation on his worries. 

“She’s in the interrogation room.”

That was all that came through that tight-lipped mouth before the soldier hurried off. Leon’s steps slowed to a stop. He was a dizzying turmoil of emotions; relief that, finally, he had word that you were okay and the ebbing adrenaline giving way to mere confusion. What had happened that’s sent everyone into such a feral panic? 

It took him a while but eventually, he managed to find you. Or where he believed you to be. A few soldiers loitered outside a door, waiting for something. White light flared from the small window that peeked inside the room. He stalked closer, heart hammering in his chest to having had at long last found you – safe and alive – sitting behind a table. 

Across from you was a person, wound in obscene layers of chains, head completely sheathed within a thick wrap. Their shoulders were slouched, shifting erratically with every breath they drew as if they were shaking. They were very still for a few seconds until Leon noticed your lips move and they shot straight to their feet, too keen to lunge at you before they were promptly subdued by their restraints; and they slumped back in their seat. 

You were rather calm, a loose fist flexing slowly on the tabletop. But a faint frown tugged at your brows and that was enough to let Leon know you were frustrated. The conversation, whatever words being exchanged, wasn’t going too well. 

It didn’t take long for you to finally resign and walk out of the room. The soldiers outside straightened to your attention, awaiting your commands. Only then Leon noticed the sling over your shoulder and his pulse began to race once again.

“Lieutenant!” He beckoned impatiently as soon as the door fluttered shut behind you. 

A weak smile crossed your lips, nodding at him before turning your focus to the other men in the hallway. 

“Alert the medics right away. She needs DEVIL.”

“But, ma’am—” Objected one of the soldiers and you interrupted. “We don’t have much time left. We need her compliance if we want any information out of her.”

The bunch nodded and offered their salutes before entering the room to follow your orders. That was when you slumped against the wall, a worn breath heaving in your chest. Leon came to your side immediately. 

“Jesus, (Y/N)—I was so worried.”

His lips pressed to your forehead, fingers gently cradling the back of your neck. The kiss was lingering and firm but relieved. It almost managed to wash away the exhaustion weighing on your shoulders. You smiled timidly at him once he leaned away.

“I came back a few hours ago – I’m alright.”

“You’re hurt.” He bridled, gesturing at your arm. “I should’ve been there. I should’ve — I should’ve done something.”

“Leon, I promise. I’m fine.”

“What the hell even happened out there?”

“We just ran into a nasty surprise.” You rubbed your eyes with a deep sigh, struggling to keep the wearing impact of the mission at bay. “Found a survivor. Can you believe it?”

“Her?” He motioned with his head at the window, the bound person inside the interrogation room and you nodded.

“She’s damn lucky we found her when we did. As much as she dealt us some damage.”

He waved a hand at the cast around your arm and you suddenly felt the urge to shrink away from him. The fury was pure evident in his voice when he spoke again, his voice low and gruff. “She did this?”

“Calm down.” You scolded gently. “She’s been through it. If you can’t tell, that’s not her right now.”

You started down the hallway, the same path Leon had come earlier to find you, and he trailed behind you like an orphan puppy, continuing to pummel you with his arguments.

“Which means It’s stupid to show her this level of mercy. Did no one learn from what happened?”

“Leon,” you breathed out another sharp sigh, turning your eyes to glance at the visibly annoyed look on his face. “This was a group decision. Do you trust your superiors?”

The silence he responded with grew questionably long. You stopped and he only did so a few steps ahead of you, turning his shoulder hesitantly, knowing fully well you were expecting him to say something.

“Do you trust me?”

He nodded. “I do. Yeah.”

“Okay. Then I promise you, this is for the best.”

Then it hit you; a stab of debilitating pain sending your vision churning as if you were stuck inside a blender. You braced a hand against the wall as you groaned, eyes squeezing shut. Leon looked horrified. His gaze fell on the dark splotches of blood seeping through the white bandage of your arm and he began to panic, rushing to hold under your good arm.

“I’m fine.” You croaked, willing yourself to move without his aid but the blood loss was finally taking its toll.

He frowned. “Really? You’re bleeding.”

And with that, he dragged you to the hospital wing despite your irritated objections. 

You were fine. You continued to insist and insist much to Leon’s disdain. Of course, this wasn’t anything you couldn’t recover from and you made sure that was ingrained in his brain by the time you were nearly done with your blood transfusion. And by then, he had shot down every one of your complaints with a lenient glare which did little to silence your petulance.

He kept his distance until your nurse stopped frequenting your bedside and then he crept closer to you like a scared stray. As if he was afraid to set something off and send things into a spiral. Though the look on his face told you he was still slightly irked.

“You’re insane. In case I haven’t told you, yet.”

You laughed drowsily, a bitter edge to the otherwise joyful sound. Leon’s hand slipped over yours, hesitantly at first, then he gripped them tighter, fingers threading together.

“You worry too much, rookie.” You offered a lopsided smile, taking in his face that was silhouetted against the fluorescent ceiling lights. “There are much bigger things than me here.”

“Don’t.” He choked out and your brows furrowed, initially confused by the sudden change in his voice until you noticed the glistening line of tears coating his lashes.  

“Oh, Leon—”

“Jus—st stop saying things like that.” His eyelids flickered rapidly, blinking back the impending fall of hot tears. “It’s not fair. Why does it have to be you?”

You scoffed another laugh. “Jesus. I know I don’t look like it but I’m still alive, you know.”

His lip began to quaver and he bit it into his mouth, stealing his face away from your eyes as a streak of tears streamed down his cheeks, his fingers trembling between yours.

“Leon, look at me.” You crooned sweetly, squeezing his hand. He refused, his gaze still glued to the ground. You smiled. “Come on, baby. Look at me.”

The soft tone of your voice, the pet name, captured his ears, and he finally returned his attention to you. His rigid shoulders sank as you slid your hand from his grasp to pat on the mattress. His glossy eyes locked onto yours momentarily before he sat down on the edge of your bed and helped you sit up.

You brushed away the wet trail of tears with your thumb before holding the side of his face, pulling him in just slightly before he eagerly closed the distance between you, kissing you chastely on the lips. The anxious tension thawed out almost immediately, giving its place to a swelling comfort. 

“I’ll be fine, okay?” You murmured once you let go. “I don’t want you to worry so much about me.”

Leon nodded but his eyes weren’t looking at you anymore. They were pinned down to where your fingers sat woven together on the hard mattress. 

“I’m sorry.” His voice was quiet, almost inaudible. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want anything happening to you. But he couldn’t speak those words, fearing it would turn real. That he would curse the one good thing he had going in his life for once. “I know you got this.”

“Is this – what is all this about?”

He hooked his lip between his teeth, the warmth of his hand leaving your fingers. You waited patiently for his answer – if there was going to be any. His silence was enduring and heavy and all of a sudden, you felt as though a thick wall of glass erected between you.

“It’s nothing.” He murmured.

Your lips curling into a sweet compassionate smile. As much as he fought to hide it, his fear was laid bare before you. You could tell what could be going through his mind when he was faced with the possibility of loss. Something you had to experience many times – with loved ones and otherwise. You never got used to the grief and you could easily understand him. 

“I was a bit younger than you when I first signed up,” you started. “Back then, I thought I was only running away from my old life; but I was also leaving someone very close to me behind. Someone who loved me more than anyone ever had.” Leon glimpsed at you from the corner of his eyes and at the bitter quirk of your lips as you recalled the memory. “When I left, I became a dead soldier walking in her eyes. Then that goddamn outbreak happened and… and…” You drew a shaky gasp, shaking your head lightly at yourself. Your fist folded against your chest, clasping around a pendant hiding beneath your shirt. You heaved a sigh before you continued, “when I went back to the city for the first time, this was the only thing left of her that I could find.”

The dull silver dangled over your shirt, the frail thing blackened in parts, no doubt an aftermath of the government bombings of the city; the locker’s tiny hinge was askew and its delicate carvings had almost completely melted off. A sullen huff of laughter pushed through your lips.  

“In a twisted way, I was the one who outlived her. That doesn’t seem fair, does it?”

Leon remained quiet. He didn’t know what to say. He knew this was a realistic way of seeing things, almost expecting what your next words meant to be. But he couldn’t shake the bothersome weight of cynicism laced in your tone – in everything you said. It all sounded much too bleak. 

But maybe this was what everything meant to be: bleak. Bleak and unredeemable. 

“What I’m trying to say is—” You breathed out another sigh. “You can’t keep guessing what cards you’ll be dealt. You just have to put your best one down.” 

“It’s really not that big of a deal.” He mumbled in weak protest.

Your shoulders shifted in a lazy shrug. “I really hope so.”

They codenamed her Banshee; that strange woman who ambushed the mission team and ended up being held captive at the base. 

Leon never saw her since the morning of your return. You were strangely secretive about it unlike how often you were there to ease his mind in the past. The confidentiality was troubling him even more. What was so important about this woman? What information could be needed from her? Why was she being held like a prisoner?

All the suspicions and the questions were why he discovered those agonized shrieks himself – one night when he passed the infirmary room on his way back to the barracks a little before curfew. Or rather, snuck. Because you had refused to take him with you. Again.

The mazelike hallways leading to the infirmary was restricted for most, he soon came to realize. Guards littered the vicinage. Security cameras hung from every crevice with every corner he turned. Just what the hell were they trying to protect? Leon had to find out. He had to know what ungodly things were being done to Banshee to rouse such gut churning noises out of her. If she was treated then this was blatant torture; and that altruistic part of him couldn’t close his eyes to it. 

Of course, he wasn’t capable of much in his position. But now, your words weren’t enough to convince him anymore. For once, he was doubting you. Because he’d seen you on the very same night he snuck into the heavily guarded unit. You were definitely in on the matter, you knew the complete extent of it; yet, you refused to confide any in him, pretending things were sound and fine. Lies, lies, lies. It was driving him up the wall.

Though maybe his haste had fueled his recklessness a bit. As much as he moved calculatedly, making it on the precise minute the night guards were changing post, it was completely lost on him that a higher rank soldier could arrive at any given instance. Because that was how you caught him.

You saw the faint shape of a shadow shed onto the floor, its source evidently cowering just behind the corner of the wall. It remained completely still as you squinted with suspicion into the distance, one hand reaching slowly for the pistol in your holster and brandishing it. 

“Who’s there?” You called out, cocking your gun. “Show yourself.”

Leon looked to his side where he had just come from. The new guards were going to assume post soon and they were going to find him here if he didn’t do something quickly enough. He could hear your slow footfalls as you crept closer to where he stood in hiding. 

He raised his palms, sheepishly slithering into sight beneath the pale red ceiling lights. You breathed a relieved sigh, lowering your arm. But then, a deep look of anger struck your features.

“Somehow I knew you’d still come here.” You said through teeth. “Do I wanna know what you’re even up to?” 

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant.” He choked out.

You rolled your eyes, stepping closer to him and he grew visibly tense; straightening his neck, eyes avoidant and staring right past the top of your head. His throat shifted as he swallowed thickly. Your frown deepened, eyes turning narrowed. 

“Wrong, Kennedy. What are you doing here?” Your voice was low as if you didn’t want to be heard.

Leon fought himself to meet your eyes again. You were (Y/N). He didn’t need to fear you. But he was quickly losing faith once his gaze crossed yours again. His words were crippled by his anxiety and he merely gaped as your heated glare remained fixated on him.

A snarl twisted your lips at his helpless silence. You grabbed a firm hold of his wrist and began walking up the hallway, dragging him along with you. He trailed behind like a ragdoll, letting you force him through the winding ways and evade the incoming guards until you found a vacant room and shoved him inside.

He stumbled into the room as if his feet had gone lame, only slowly turning around to face you when you closed the door and flickered the lights on. Of course, you still looked furious and he hadn’t yet found the words to defend himself with. Not that he had prepared much for when he was going to be caught. 

“I’m waiting.” You said curtly, the scowl on your face never changing, slipping your gun back into its holster. 

“I—well, I—I don’t know. I just wanted to see what was going on.”

All of a sudden and without any warnings, you charged at him and Leon recoiled into the edge of the desk behind him, eyes blowing wide with shock. Your curled knuckles sat against his chest, pushing at him firmly.

“You decided to go against my order. And here I thought you trusted me.”

“I do—” He stammered, voice shrill with panic. “I do trust you.”

“This doesn’t look much like it now, does it?” 

“I can explain.”

“Then fucking explain.”

He swallowed again, eyes fluttering rapidly as they shifted around in search for an indefinite point of focus until they found yours again. Your jaw was clenched, a single furrowed brow twitching with frustration. He had to say something to remedy the damage. 

“I just think this isn’t humane.” You arched a brow and his remaining sliver of courage began to dwindle. Thinking of the words to say, he was quickly realizing how idiotic what he did truly was but he continued to speak what was truly on his mind, “it’s not right to do all these experiments on her.”

“You think that’s what’s happening here?”

“No. I—I don’t know.”

You scoffed. “Was it worth it then? Getting in trouble for this. What if someone else saw you?”

“I’m sorry.” He repeated himself timidly. 

“Jesus, this isn’t about that,” your voice rose an octave. “This is dangerous. You could’ve gotten fucking killed.”

Leon stared at you with a slack mouth, eyes wide and scared. You shook your head and stepped away from him, suddenly caving into the sharp strike of pain through your shoulder, a grimace distorting your face. Your hand instinctively rose to put pressure over the bandage dressing your wound. 

He so terribly wanted to hold you and soothe your aches, to place kisses to your hair and comfort you. He hated seeing you so hurt. He reached a hand out towards you, fingers nearly beckoning but they dropped limply back at his side again, thinking better of it.

“One word out of your mouth,” you lifted your head to say with a cutting glint in your eyes, voice almost breathless from that brief episode of pain. “One fucking word about tonight out of your mouth and I’m signing your papers myself. Am I clear?”  

He nodded. “Yes, Miss.”

A deep sigh rushed through your nose. “Does anybody else know about this?” Leon shook his head no and your lips pursed into a crooked line, something slightly akin to a smile. “At least, you were smart about that – come on.”

You gestured with your head towards the door and Leon frowned in confusion, his eyes shortly darting to the pristine white wood before returning to yours. You could easily read the unspoken question written on his face.

“I’m walking you back to the barracks. I can’t have you wandering around on your own.”

The way back to the unrestricted sector was slow yet comfortably quiet. Your focus rest upon avoiding the main hallways where soldiers stood guard and cameras roved the vicinity. He felt oddly safe despite the circumstance – safe with you. 

Leon walked alongside you, the back of your hand warm against his. His fingers begged to spread over your palm and clasp tightly around it. They traced coyly across your wrist and right then, he caught you glancing at him from the corner of your eyes and this might have been a trick of the shadows but he could swear he saw a smile form on your lips. 

Your fingers threaded through his. “I’m sorry for lashing out back there.” You whispered, squeezing his hand before raising it to see the healing scars strewn all over his knuckles. You kissed them with caution and Leon drew a gasp, shivering from the gentleness of your touch. “I was so scared for you. I kept thinking about what would’ve happened if someone else—”

He interrupted, “(Y/N), I know. You don’t have to explain.”  

The shadows cast over your face made the soft frown tugging at your brows much more twisted as you continued to stare ahead into the darkness. 

“You’re not gonna pull this shit again, are you?” Leon almost didn’t hear you with how quietly the question came. “I was serious about it being dangerous.”

An oppressing silence settled between you as he pondered your words. You tilted your head to glimpse the troubled look on his face. Of course, the curiosity wasn’t going to just vanish all on its own. And knowing him, you were quite certain it was only a matter of time until he found another way to the infirmary. You sighed. Maybe sharing some information wasn’t entirely terrible.

“Banshee’s had some interesting developments since getting her first dose.”    

Leon perked up at that. “What do you mean?”

“She’s very strong. Three men can’t hold her down when she starts throwing a fit.” You explained. “And she heals quickly. Tooquickly. The medics have a hard time keeping her IVs in. They think it has something to do with her infection.” You looked at him again. “She still has her intelligence, so combined with everything else – that’s too much power for just one person.”

“What’s she being kept for?” He asked but he had a feeling he already knew even though you refused to answer anymore.

“Just promise me that you will stay away. For your own safety. And stop asking questions for fuck’s sake.”

He stopped and the link between your hands held you back as well. You turned with a frown. Leon’s face was cloaked in the shadows but you could still see his glistening eyes. He tugged you forward and cradled you against his chest.

“And what about you? Aren’t you supposed to be safe, too?”

“Leon—”

“I know we talked about this. I’m not doubting you. I just—” He trailed off, biting his lip before he started again, “I don’t want to lose you.”

There. He finally said it. But your silence was too telling. Then you slowly began to pull away from him. 

You were startled, the plane rawness in the confession making your skin crawl with goosebumps. This – all of this – erased any remaining shred of distance between you. Intimacy had become such a stranger to you after so long, it was difficult for you to welcome it again now. Affection lending all but true comfort, you had come to learn years ago. 

“You can’t. No.” You protested, shaken with panic, pulse racing.

Leon’s grip became tight around you, keeping you firm against himself. “It’s you who can’t. Listen to me—” He gave your shoulder a gentle jolt when your head began whipping around as if looking for a way out. “I won’t let you keep treating yourself like you’re disposable. You’re—you’re so much more than that to me.”

A fragile lump knotted in your throat as your eyes met his again, your lip quavering of its own accord. He held your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as an adoring smile curved his mouth. You shook your head but to what question or depiction of disagreement, you couldn’t tell anymore. You only knew you were protesting the silent wailing of your heart that called out to him. 

But this felt right. He felt right. Everything about this snippet of time was perfectly that – right.

“Please, (Y/N)—let me show you. Just one chance. Just—just for tonight.”

Your eyes searched his face in the darkness, your heart beginning to hammer in your throat. He was so close to you that you could feel his cool breaths feathering over your skin, slow and even – unlike your sharp ones. His arms held you protectively as if he could shield you from yourself. And in this moment, the idea of letting go seemed all too inviting. 

At last, you nodded sheepishly. “Okay.”

Leon followed you again as you led the way to your room. He had seen your office many times before; the flourishing link between you afforded him confidence to seek you in solitude at times. However, he was never once inside your private quarters. 

The room hardly looked lived in; the bed was clean and made, the desk against the wall barren of any belongings – a room fit for a soldier prepared to depart as soon she was called upon. It all was cold and vacant except for a small pot of plant which sat on the windowsill. The leaves were young and fresh, swaying slowly in the breeze wafting in from the small crack in the window. 

You distanced yourself to shut the window before turning your eyes to the tiny plant, stroking it carefully between two fingers as a smile adorned your lips. Then you peered back at Leon who was still standing at the door, watching you silently with a warm expression, gaze soft and loving. Your heart began to flutter again.

“I’m all yours, Leon.” You admitted quietly, longingly.

He approached you slowly, arms twisting around you once again, engulfing you in his warmth. His lips were merely a breath apart from yours, caressing you ever so lightly. You could feel their tempting softness from this small distance. So sweet. So incredibly sweet. You were already growing weak in the knees.

Leon held your face and at last, his lips pressed gently upon yours. His kisses were paced and sensuous. Careful. His fingers sank in your hair to brace against the back of your neck, his thumb caressing your cheek absentmindedly. Your fist gripped loosely over his chest, the collar of his shirt crumpling between your digits and pulling him tighter to yourself.

A breathless moan escaped him as he stumbled into you from the force and he giggled against your lips, leaning away to smile down at you. 

“You’re so beautiful.” You whispered and his face became flushed, his smile growing bashful. You pushed away the hair from his eyes, letting your fingers rest within the soft locks. Leon pressed a small kiss to the heel of your palm. “Will you promise me something?”

“Anything, honey.”

“Please never cut your hair.”

An adorable, boyish grin lit up his pretty face. “I take it you like it then?”

“It makes it easier to boss you around.” You finished as your grip tightened on his roots and his eyes squeezed shut, his jaw becoming visibly clenched. A tight-lipped moan trembled on his tongue. 

“Always have to make a point to be so mean to me.”

He offered no time for you to gather a response, dropping his hands to your knee and lifting it just slightly over his own leg. “Up,” he muttered and you jumped, coiling your legs around his waist and arms around his neck as he caught you against his hips. His lips were back upon yours soon after.

His head was tilted, mouth parted and tongue flicking teasingly at your lip. Your hand flexing in his soft hair coaxed moan after moan from him before his fingers dug mercilessly into the flesh of your thighs, leading you both down on the edge of the bed. His hands slipped under your shirt, spreading wide over your back as if to claim you beneath his touch.

It was almost instinctual to begin grinding against him, shifting your hips again and again over his cock that slowly became tangibly hard under you. Leon moaned sharp and drawn out, stuttering them against your lips as his kisses grew slow and clumsy. He pulled away a mere hair’s breadth with his eyes still closed, forehead pressed to yours.

“I want to make it up to you.” His nose brushed yours, his wet lips agape and desperate to be put to something as they traced the air, blindly looking for yours again. “Can you lie down?”

You nodded and his hold tightened around your waist, helping you down gently against the hard mattress. His fingers soothed your clothed thighs as he seated himself between your legs. His smile was soft when he pressed a kiss to your knee, nodding approvingly once you began stripping your jeans.

Leon discarded the article onto the floor once it came undone, his hand then quickly returning to your legs to push them carefully apart. He moved with a certain care that made a shy smile grow on your face and a pleasant warmth in your cheeks. You bit your lip, unable to hold in the giddiness that bubbled deep in your throat.

“What?” He crooned with a soft smile of his own, fingers still caressing your legs.

“Nothing. It’s just – this is perfect.” He cocked his head, eyes bright as you spoke. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

Leon smiled again. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

The ensuing silence that formed between you was gentle and comfortable, sitting with its featherlike weight in the air as you both relished in each other’s warmth, doing nothing but merely sharing delicate touches and chaste kisses in between soft loving glances. 

It was as though time had slowed to a stop in the room; no worry or caution waiting to cast doom upon your little square of joy. The turbulence of the vast world lost under the delightful heft of peace seeded within this very moment. Nothing could steal this away from either of you.

When the quiet broke apart, it was you who had reached a hand between your thighs to hold Leon under the chin. He closed his eyes with a content smile before he tilted his head to press another small kiss to your knee, his fingers gliding slowly up the side of your leg.

“You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time.” You confessed, voice low and timid. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize it soon enough.”

He shushed you softly, leaving a trail of kisses lower and lower on your thigh, carefully making his way down to the throbbing wet center awaiting the warmth of his mouth. His gaze flickered up to yours once his lips were a breath shy of your swollen clit. 

“We have the rest of our time to make up for it, honey.”

And when the sentence reached its last, Leon’s tongue sat flat against your pussy. Your chest hitched from the heated contact, breath knotting in your throat. Your core gripped with need as your clit became embraced in the wet heat of his sweet mouth and pinched playfully between his slippery teeth. 

He took to you carefully; his eyes attentive to the flitting emotions on your face and his ears to the soft noises escaping your parted lips. He took in the small movements of your hips as they circled slowly against the mattress, writhing and coaxing bigger moans from you every time you met his mouth more firmly.

Your fingers soon sought purchase in the thin white sheets below you, gripping them tightly in your grasp as Leon upped his pace. He moaned heatedly once your other hand – the same hurting one –reached for the mess of hair on top of his head and threaded through the roots gingerly, pushing his mouth tighter upon yourself.

That was what he needed to lose all sense of self and bury his face into your cunt with a low groan, mouth panting and reeling against you. He took you onto his tongue with fervent vigor, making himself more and more breathless with every flutter along your clit, spurred on only by your encouraging moans and sharp gasps.

“Mmmgod… you taste heavenly, sweetheart.” He moaned breathily, his senses whelmed by the clear flavor of your pussy and your soft smell that made him want to dig into you with the neediness of a starved man’s first supper. “Want my tongue inside you—yeah? Want me to fuck you with my tongue, baby?”

You whined softly at the twist of desperation in his voice as his tongue continued to flicker rapidly over your clit, his mouth slurping your sleek through the urgency of the question. You nodded quickly, moaning your approval right before the firm tip of his tongue slithered into your folds, making you arch your back at the assault of heat lurching deep within your core.

He slid his tongue in and out of you swiftly, moaning as he downed more of your taste, the lucid flavor sending his mind into a feverish turmoil – the focal of his attention stranded in only your pleasure alone. He returned to suck on your clit with a newfound tenacity, his breaths coming short and shallow against your fevered skin. 

“God, you’re incredible,” he muttered through a mouthful. “I need more… I need more.”

The small cot squeaked as Leon began to grind himself against it, his fingers digging crescents into the meat of your thighs, his own desire reaching a melting point as the winding heat in your body mounted the delicious borderline of collapse. Your fingers gripped tighter in his hair, your body growing tense with the anticipation of your release.

“I’m so close. I’m gonna – I’m gonna…”

But the warning came too late as your orgasm coursed through you like a storm and you came with a soft cry, pushing your head back against the mattress, the heat at last breaking loose inside your core. Leon’s lips roved your inner thighs as your high gradually ebbed, pressing slow gentle kisses to your skin. He listened to your soft gasps of breath, relishing in the gentle way your fingers continued to flex in his hair. 

You were strangely meek and sweet in a moment like this, Leon thought to himself; so vulnerable, so… human. The perfect soldier lain on a cheap hard cot, reduced to a whimpering mess at the mercy of his mouth. It made him smile adoringly as he raised his head to look at you.

“You’re still with me?” He said with a soft huff of laughter, noticing how your dazed eyes are still pinned to the ceiling as your chest rose and fell heavily, ever lost in the throes of an utter bliss.

Your head inclined in a small nod before you finally met his gaze with a lazy smile. A nearly silent chuckle slipped through your lips.

“Yeah. Still here.”

Leon lifted himself and over your body. His thumb reached for his own mouth to swipe at the smear of your arousal glistening on his kiss swollen lips. You linked an arm around his shoulders, letting the other sit comfortably down at your side, urging him closer to yourself. He met your lips with his, giving you a small kiss before parting once more. He fingered the side of your face as he looked down at you with a soft look in his eyes.

“You’re amazing.” The smile on his face was broad as he spoke, his thumb brushing over your cheek. 

You rolled your eyes with a ghost of a smile on your lips. 

“I mean it.” His eyebrows raised, giving you a stern nod. “You are amazing. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.”

You sat a gentle hand against his cheek. “What are you doing to me, Kennedy?”

A cheeky, lopsided smile quirked the corner of his mouth as he leaned down and pressed the tip of his nose to yours. His fingers slipped from your face to your hair, brushing through it with care but that playful expression was ever persistent on his face.

“Right now? Probably blowing your mind.”

You rolled your eyes again but a chortle erupted in your throat, making Leon laugh with you in return. He traced his pinky finger over your lips, teasing them apart as his eyes became transfixed by them; his own mouth parted slightly as if in anticipation of another kiss. He looked back up in your eyes once more.

“I just want you so bad right now.” He whispered, his voice a low scratchy rasp, waking goosebumps down your spine. “I’m sorry. I know it’s a lot to ask for. I just—” 

You interrupted him with a kiss, holding the side of his neck to bring him even closer. His content sigh flitted against your mouth as he melted in your embrace. When you pulled away to look at him again, his bright blue eyes were half-closed and smoldering with lust. 

“I want you, too.” You smiled. 

Leon gave a quiet laugh, his cheeks bright with pink. “You do? You sure?”

You nodded and his smile widened even more. He began speaking something but the sudden spike of excitement in his voice made the words string together in a mess of incomprehensible words as he stood to his feet to rid himself of his clothes. You chuckled as you watched him discard the layers without even looking, an infectious grin carving his face in two. 

An amused smirk curved your lips as Leon climbed over you again. He blushed furiously upon noticing that devilish, teasing look in your eyes. He laughed breathlessly, running his nails over the side of his flushed cheek.

“Don’t you dare tease me about this.” 

You laughed more loudly. “I didn’t even say anything.”

He leaned down with a faint smile, his eyes flickering over your face as he squeezed your thighs tightly between his long fingers.

“I know that look, sweetheart. You don’t need words to drive me crazy.”

You raised an eyebrow, still smirking. A playfully stern look crossed his features, his fingers slowly reaching higher for the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your stomach.

“See? You’re doing it right now.” 

“Christ, Leon!” You exclaimed through another fit of laughter.

Leon’s gaze softened again, his thumbs brushing over your exposed ribs, his lips curled into a dreamy smile. “You have no idea how much I love it when you call me by my name.” 

A gentle smile turned your mouth as you drank him in – as if you were looking at him for the first time. You pressed your fingers gingerly against his face, tracing a borderless map across his smooth skin, brushing your fingertips over his lips, his nose, every line, every crevice. He smiled down at you as your touch wandered his features, making a face at you once your eyes met his again.

“I can’t believe my luck.” You whispered with an endeared smile. 

Leon nodded his head, a mischievous smirk sat in the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, me neither. I mean, let’s face it. I’m quite the catch.”

“Shut up.” You scolded gently, your voice roiling with a small chuckle. 

“Make me.” 

A wicked smile tugged at your lips as you buried your fingers in his hair and forced his lips upon yours. His small delicate moan of surprise stifled against your mouth before he gave into you with a small murmur, his fingers caressing your cheeks as he reciprocated the kiss. Then he giggled and leaned away just enough to speak again, his breath one with your own.

“Alright. Point taken.”

You gave an easy laugh, shaking your head, your fingers still threaded in his hair. Leon smiled down at you again, a much more gentle, sincere one that made your heartbeats stutter.

He slid his hand over your torso, slowly making his way up to your chest. Two of his fingers slipped beneath your sports bra, soothing over the curve of your breast before his nails grazed your nipple, drawing a soft gasp through your lips. 

A glint flashed in Leon’s eyes at the sound – a sweetly inquisitive light. His pupils were wide, like two pools of ink; but the mirth was laden there somewhere in those depths, leaping forth through the burning lust. It made his face soften once more as he peered up at you, a tender yet impish smile curling his lips. He moved his hand again, his touch picking up in confidence as he swiped his fingers over your nipple once more. 

Another small sigh of pleasure escaped your lips and all of a sudden, Leon was brimmed whole with the need to put his lips to your skin again. He pushed his mouth against your ribs, his tongue flickering out to claim a taste as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your skin. Then he remained there, his lips trailing a wet path up to the middle of your breasts before his fingers began peeling your sports bra back.

You let him unravel you even more, carefully prying the tight fabric away from your skin. He stared down at your exposed body with his mouth parted in awe. His tongue swiped over his lips before he surged forward again, driven by a need that he rendered to your breasts, taking each nipple with renewed fervor. 

Your chest arched into his touch, moaning breathlessly as he began moving towards your neck, his face practically burying itself in your skin with how hard he was pressing his mouth onto you. His kisses were much less forgiving now, fluttering from his lips with bruising intensity, as if each lustful stroke meant to strip your soul down more and more. 

Leon raised his mouth to your ear, his breath warm and uneven against your hair. “God, I need you,” he whispered hoarsely, his voice no longer bearing its previous hint of airiness, a rich beckoning of desire taking its place instead. “I need you so fucking bad.”

The breath knotted taut in your throat as you searched for words. You nodded fervently, moaning something incoherent before you rasped your agreement, weaving your fingers through his hair to push his face deeper against your neck, pulling a sharp breath from his lips. 

He thumbed your sides as he glanced down between your bodies, his temple pressed to your collarbone, he lifted his hips just enough to position his hard cock between your thighs. His tip pushed gently against your entrance and a soft groan escaped him as though he was already too sensitive. 

“Is this okay?” He paused to meet your eyes again; his face so close, his nose bumped against yours as he shifted his head. 

You nodded with a reassuring smile, coiling one arm around his shoulder as he squirmed ever so slightly, bringing him closer to yourself. A trembling breath flitted through his flushed lips once his hips thrust forward gingerly, the movement slow and cautious, yet his cock finally managed to slip through your sopping cunt.

Another heated groan rumbled in Leon’s throat once he burrowed himself deep inside you, the noise quickly morphing into a desperate, breathless moan. He had to stop for the briefest moment to gather himself, his breaths already short and labored. 

“Oh, my god,” he whined softly, readying himself to move. His face was nestled in your neck, his mouth pressed to you with every single breath flickering like a hot spark against your skin. “You feel amazing. You feel so amazing.” 

Your walls burned deliciously as they molded around his cock, the sensation rousing a satisfied noise from deep within your chest. His entire body was so incredibly warm and the weight of him pushing down onto you was nothing but pleasant; his skin was smooth beneath your gentle fingertips, a sheen of sweat glistening along his neck. He trembled like a leaf as though any moment, his threads were going to come undone.

When Leon began to move, he pushed into you with deliberate care; each thrust was slow but each sank deeply within you, drawing through your walls like a match engulfing in flames. He downed sharp gulps of breath, each exhale then leaving him in quivering wisps. He whimpered softly under your ear, his fingers pressing indents into your hips. He simply refused to pick up his speed. 

His words came rushing through his warm mouth. He kept murmuring incoherently under his breath, the sentences – if you could even hear a proper one, for that matter – twisted into high moans and shaky whimpers as soon as they toppled over his lips. He was a mess. It was pure evident that he was teetering on the brink already. And with how you kept clenching so tightly around him, his will to hold himself at bay was quickly fading.

“Oh, baby… oh, baby…” He kept chanting hoarsely in your ear, the words never finding a fruition, the sentences never fully realized. But even you could tell now: he was close.

You wound your legs around his waist, bringing him even closer to yourself; your fingers moved to his hair again, coiling tightly through the soft locks. Leon whined deliriously into your neck before he raised his mouth to press it clumsily upon yours, his breathless noises flitting against your tongue as it flicked coyly at his. 

The movement of his hips have become erratic, almost shaky, his pace only slightly faster now. His hands held your thighs in a vice grip, the skin beneath his fingertips beginning to protest the pressure but the ache only stoked the pleasure building to crescendo within your core.

“Fuck—I’m so close,” Leon groaned. “Oh, god, I can’t hold myself back anymore.” 

You pulled his face to yours again, your lips colliding roughly with his; and you whispered through the kiss, “go on then. Cum for me, baby.” To which he shook his head vigorously.

“No, no. I want you to cum with me. Please.”

He slowed his speed without waiting for your objection, returning to plowing deep thrusts inside you instead. He grunted with every effort, sweat rolling down the side of his face. You could see this was taking more out of him than he let on. He scrunched up his face, his teeth sinking into his lip. He was just so close. And it was taking every shred of will within him to not just empty his load inside you right then and there. 

“Come on, baby. What are you doing?” A soft frown curled your brows. “I want you to cum.”

You glided your fingers over his back, caressing the skin along his spine. You cooed a string of encouragements to him but he continued to shake his head at you, his body practically vibrating against yours now. You held his face, forcing him to meet your gaze. His eyes were half-lidded and shiny, his breaths leaving him in short rapid bursts.

“Leon—listen to me. You’re gonna be good for me and cum. Alright?” He didn’t respond immediately and the small frown on your face turned into a stern raise of a brow. “Are you gonna be good?” 

Leon gave a resigned whine and nodded his head at last. “Fine. Okay. Fine. I’ll be good.” He sucked in a quick breath and finally, he upped his speed once more. “I’ll be good for you. Fuck.”

“That’s it, sweetheart. I want you to let yourself go for me.”

He nodded eagerly again, his lips, once more, seeking refuge against the soft skin of your neck. He bade your ears whimper upon whimper – those sweet delicate sounds that tickled your senses, growing more and more pronounced the closer he crept on the edge. He continued to shake and you had to wonder if he was still fighting against his own body. 

“You can go faster than that. Come on. I know you can do it.” 

A groan escaped from somewhere steep in his throat and now you knew, the last of his will had finally ebbed. He began fucking into you with much less reverence, the small cot beginning to squeak beneath the both of your weights. You arched your neck as a sudden tide of pleasure broke over your body, your mouth parting for a soft moan to flee. 

“Yeah, keep going like that. You’re doing so good.”

In response to your words, another breathless whine rushed through Leon’s teeth as he kissed along your throat, his hands rising to your sides and gripping you tightly against himself. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—I’m so close again.” He moaned into your skin, his voice small and high-pitched, nearly breaking as it bounced lazily over those few words.

“I know, baby. I know. Don’t stop now. Just keep going.”

Leon groaned softly beneath your ear. His hips snapped against yours in a few short successions before his body grew suddenly still upon yours. A choked whimper rolled off his tongue, a desperate attempt to muffle himself as he prodded his face deeper into your neck again. His warm cum gushed through your folds, burying the seed within you as he continue to remain between your legs like that.

His breaths flickered sharp and heavy against your skin as he slowly came down, his grip over your body loosening ever so slightly. Once that blissful haze dissipated, his lips began tracing your neck again; but this time, the kisses were much softer, bearing a sated gentleness that made your heart swell with warmth. 

“I’m sorry,” you heard him mumble, his face refusing to lift from the crook of your shoulder. Then he finally leaned away to meet your eyes; his cheeks sweetly red, an adorable crooked grin curling the corner of his mouth. “I don’t know what came over me.”

You chuckled, your fingers dancing coyly on the back of his neck, toying with the silky wisps of hair plastered to his damp skin. 

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” you reassured him but then, a wicked smirk grew across your lips. “You’re way too cute though.”

He rolled his eyes, scoffing softly, with that ever persistent smile still adorning his face. You snickered when his blush deepened, spreading all the way to his ears; and he gave a loud embarrassed groan, hiding his face against his own arm. 

“Stop it,” he whined. 

Your laughter grew in volume as you reached for his chin, holding it gently between two fingers before you turned his face towards yours again. His eyes were glassy and bright, a translucent shade as they peered down into yours with a lingering hint of sheepishness. 

“You’re so fucking cute,” you repeated, your voice a low growl through gritted teeth as if your heart couldn’t contain all the fondness it bore for your rookie.

Leon shook his head slowly, a small giggle bursting from his lips. His eyes were twinkling when he looked at you again, his lips giving into a doting smile. 

“You’re unbelievable.”

You gave another chuckle in response before he rest his head down against your chest. He took in a deep content breath, his fingers falling to your waist to begin trailing aimlessly over the skin. Your heart thumped slowly beneath his ear and he couldn’t help the smile that overcame his lips. 

“Can we stay like this for a while?” He asked, his eyes slowly falling close, his voice barely a mumbled whisper. “This is… nice.”

“Of course.” You smiled when he gave you a short hum in return and you looked down at him, noticing the calm and the sweet innocence which had now replaced everything else on his face. You ran your fingers along his neck again. “You didn’t even hear me, did you?”

He was already fast asleep.  

Something loud stirred Leon from his sleep; an obnoxious wailing of a siren that startled him awake. It took him a moment to gather his surroundings, finding himself still naked from the night before, tangled in your thin white sheets. He blinked drowsily and frowned at the realization of your absence and then panic began to set in his stomach.

“Shit, shit, shit!”

He nearly staggered to the floor in his haste to get out of the cot, clumsily reaching for his clothes that were scattered around the small room. His breaths were already short and labored as he got dressed and rushed out into the hallway, grimacing once the blaring noise embraced him whole.

The only thought on his mind was to find you.

He took off in the direction of the mess hall, his eyes widening in surprise when a group of armed soldiers hurried past him, bellowing demands over the shrieking noise. This wasn’t just a regular drill, Leon quickly realized, his cheeks tingling from the cold wash of dread. He caught up to the commanding officer whose face was red with sweat and distorted into a scowl.

“Kennedy! The hell are you doing here?” He yelled gruffly.

“What is going on?”

Leon flinched as the loud echo of gunshots rang out through the space, instinctively grasping his head between his hands. A light tremor broke over his body, his heart racing at the very possibility of something truly horrifying.

“We’re on lockdown. Get yourself to the hangar. NOW.”

He nodded fervently in response and began running again, finding another group of soldiers who were headed in the same direction and followed them out to the warm air of the early morning. The dawn was slowly breaking in the distant horizon as he made it to the hangar.

It was easy to make out your frantic voice above the agitated chatter in the room. You were yelling about something but this time, your anger was turned towards another high ranking soldier. He was a much older man. Someone he could tell to be your superior. However, that didn’t stop you from leaning close to his face to scream at him.

“Corporal, with all due respect, that’s the worst choice in this situation.” Leon heard you spit angrily as he stopped in the front of the hangar, standing just ahead of the rest of the crowd of soldiers. “We can’t use the recruits as fucking bait.”

The older soldier straightened his back, his chest puffed out, leaning forward in your space in return to your defiance; a snarl was set deep in his features, his tall domineering stature doing very little to quell your confidence. You didn’t back down. Not even slightly. You held his gaze with as much fortitude even though you had to tip your head back to keep glaring at him.

“We need all hands on deck, (L/N). My word is final. Hand out the damn guns!”

Leon walked closer to you as Corporal distanced himself. He put a careful hand on your shoulder, his heart skipping a beat when you flinched in response to his touch. Your wide eyes met his immediately, a gentleness growing amidst the feral fury within them as soon as he offered you a small but strained smile.

“You’re okay, Lieutenant?” He asked softly, leaning closer to your shoulder. “What’s going on?”

He watched quietly as you heaved an exasperated sigh and knead your eyes before you turned fully to face him.

“Banshee broke out of her restraints at some point in the night. We’re trying to take her down but—”

Leon frowned, his grip tightening slightly on your shoulder, waiting patiently for you to explain but anxiety was threading deeply through his body like thorny vines, clutching painfully at his pounding heart. You sighed again and a speck of that previous anger returned to your voice once you started speaking again.

“But we dealt some fucking casualties already. Now somebody,” you sneered begrudgingly, throwing a sharp thumb over your shoulder at Corporal, “came up with the idea to dispatch the recruits.”

His pulse throbbed in his ears as he listened to you, a soft frown weighing on his features, trepidation sinking deep in the pit of his stomach. Eventually, he let his hand fall slowly back to his side and managed another pursed smile.

“I can do this—”

“NO!” Leon cringed at the unexpected raise of your voice. You grabbed his shoulder and peered deep into his face. You looked scared. More scared than he’d ever seen you. Your eyes were blown wide and your pupils were trembling; a thin veil of glassiness coated them, making them glisten, almost as if you were tearing up. “I cannot – I will not let you. You’ll stay here.That’s an order.”

He smiled again, much more kindly this time, a warm look in his eyes. He squeezed your hand on his shoulder with his reassuringly, before raising his fingers to touch your face.

“With all due respect, if we’re going to fight then we’re fighting together. Besides,” his lips curved into a warm smile, “I’m not letting you go out there without me.”

You shook your head in disbelief as you heard your own words thrown back at you, tears welling up in your eyes. Leon fought the urge to engulf you in his arms right then and there, his chest gripping with ache at the sight of your distraught face. His thumb began brushing over your cheek.

“I can handle this, I promise. Let me come with you. I feel safer that way.”

Your fists curled tightly as you averted your eyes, gritting your teeth. You were in war with yourself, caught in the crossfire of your heart and your mind – the urge to protect Leon and the sensibility of letting him take care of himself. At last, you let a sharp exhale through your nose and gave him a defeated yet determined glance, your head dipping in a small nod. Then you, albeit hesitantly, handed him a gun.

“Stick close to me. Am I clear?”

Leon smiled, letting the gun mold comfortably in his arms. “Yes, Miss.”

“Alright.” You turned your attention towards the room. “We do this as Corporal planned. Everyone, assume your positions.” You unsheathed your own pistol and cocked it with a dirty glare. “We’re taking down the mutant.”

A deafening silence surged through the hangar as recruits sought their assigned groups, their thudding heels against the ground the only noise tearing through the thick air of uneasiness. 

Leon stood closer to you, his skin crawling with goosebumps as a new wave of anxiety crashed over him. This was really happening. The only thing soothing his nerves was your mere presence beside him, filling him with a calming sense of security even as you stood with just one good arm to go into the battle with; the pistol sat in your palm as if it could belong to you alone.

You turned to him, your face grim as you addressed him once again. “It’s on sight, Kennedy. You see Banshee, you shoot. And you don’t aim at anything but her head. Understood?”

“Yes, Lieutenant.” He nodded curtly, donning a courageous look as he cocked his own weapon. 

“Good.” You turned to the crowd once more, yelling much more authoritatively this time when you spoke again, “we’re moving out!”

Everyone moved quietly. It was as though their feet were gliding upon air as the formation of the recruits hurried outside towards the base, the first rays of the morning light shedding a blanket of pale gold over the moving bunch. 

Leon trailed close behind you the entire way, watching you make gestures with your hand once near the building, ordering the formation to dispense and cover as much ground as possible. Then you turned over your shoulder to look at him as Corporal joined your side.

“We’re going in. Stay on guard.”

You nodded once at your superior and without hesitation, he kicked the double doors open. Your small group rushed inside, enfolded once again by the shrieking siren. Disembodied demands were hurled constantly, the words faint over the thunderous noise as you led the way inside. 

Gunshots reverberated through the halls, distant agonized screams bouncing off of the white walls. Mutilated bodies littered the once pristine tiled floors. The thick stench of blood was overbearing, its sight a constant nauseating presence. 

Leon was overwhelmed. His mind kept flashing back to Raccoon City, his thoughts racing with those tainted memories that were quickly riling him up. His grip began to shake on his gun, his heart practically hammering in his throat and all of a sudden, he froze. The sight of the pile of carcass through a corridor was enough to lock him up inside his own brain.

“LEON!” 

He heard the yell too late, only coming to when another shot was fired. He recoiled as the unexpected sound ripped through the fog of his thoughts, his eyes snapping to yours. You grabbed his arm and hauled him to a safe corner as bullets hailed down upon you.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, slowly gathering his bearings again.

His eyes searched you and a frown quickly formed at his brows. You slumped to the floor with a hand clutched tightly at your stomach; blood seeped through your fingers, spreading rapidly over your shirt like ink. You were shaking, panting, and your eyes were wide with panic.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Leon dropped to his knees beside you on the ground, his voice low but frantic as he took in the dire state you were in. “Stop, stop. Calm down, sweetheart. Please.”

He pressed his hands over your wound, trying his damndest to ignore your shallow erratic breaths, the awareness of what had happened dawning on him. His broad, terrified eyes staring at the gaping void in your stomach that continued to gush with blood. 

“Shhh… shhh… please, baby. Take a deep breath. It’s going to be okay. You—you’re going to be okay.” His eyes raised to yours, sweat beaded at his brow. He spoke in a hushed yell, “why the hell did you do that for?”

Your panting finally slowed when you tackled the initial bout of panic but your body continued to tremble. Leon chewed his lip as he watched you; your eyes were lidded. He could see the hard movement of your chest as you heaved every breath with difficulty. This didn’t look good. He struggled to shove down his mounting terror as he stared helplessly at you, his hands still covering your wound with pressure. Warm tears began stinging the corners of his vision.

“Leon…” You muttered weakly, reaching your bloody fingers to his face. “I’m so sorry. I…” You trailed off, never finishing that train of thought.

He leaned into your touch as your hand palmed his cheek, gritting his teeth and blinking back the downpour of tears.

“I’m – I’m dying, aren’t I?”

“Please stop talking.” He said hoarsely.

“It’s okay. I’m not scar—” You were caught off by a rattling cough, blood spitting through your lips. “I’m not scared of dying. I’m content. For once.”

Leon held your wrist and clutched your hand against his chest, his tears wetting his lashes, his nostrils pink and flaring.  

“Take care… alright? You’re my – you’re my favorite vice.”

Vices, vices. Of course. You were struggling to speak, to move, to breathe. He could see it. His heart sank when more blood trickled down your lip. He held the side of your face as your neck began to go limp, lifting your head and forcing you to meet his eyes again.

“Don’t you die on me. Please.”

You managed a small smile and gave him a weak nod of your head. “It’s gonna be okay.” A futile attempt to comfort him as you squeezed his hand with the last sliver of your strength.

His bloody fingers raked through your hair, unable to do anything else but watch the glimmer fade in your eyes. Once your grip over his hand was gone, he knew that you were, too. Yet, the revelation dropped like an anchor in his stomach. His hold tightened in your hair, moving your head from side to side as if he was trying to wake you from a deep sleep.

“(Y/N). Please, no!” His voice wavered as he spoke. “Oh. Oh, god…”

But he had no time to mourn; a hand soon found his shoulder and forced him back to his feet. His eyes broadened as he watched you get farther and farther away from him, his feet moving against his own will.

“Let’s go, rookie.” He heard Corporal whisper to him in a gentle tone – one unheard of him until then.

Leon’s eyes fleeted over the older man’s face. The wrinkles between his brows were drawn deeply, his lips pursed as if he was holding himself back from speaking anything more. But the heartbreak glistened in his dark eyes as he stared straight ahead, his hand still wrapped securely around his arm.

“We have to get her.”

“We will.” Corporal responded with a firm nod. “But first, we survive.”

And survive they did.

It was a few hours of sheer hell. Many were slain and, in the end, Banshee escaped after nearly wiping out the entire base. However, Leon stood among his remaining comrades outside in what was once the training field, taking in the ruin which has become of the base. Smoke wafted over the white roof of the building, uncoiling like a black serpentine, a taunting dance of defeat in the clear sky as the sun slowly set over the horizon.

Leon fell to his feet in exhaustion; and as he laid there on the dirt, staring at the fading skies overhead, the weight of reality finally crashed down over his head. So many great soldiers dead. So many lives felled. And you. He drew a deep, quivering breath.

You.

The last few months of training were an uneventful blur. The surviving recruits were moved to a different base and Leon felt utterly lost. For the first time in a while, he didn’t know what to do. It was as though he had survived Raccoon City all over again. But this time around, there was no you to help him navigate, to forget. Even if only briefly. 

Alas, he managed to finish those months that seemed to drag on end. He knew that was what you would’ve wanted from him; to live on – hence why you weren’t there anymore to see him graduate. But if that was all it took to help him through day after day, he was going to hold onto it like his lifeline.

After graduation, the first place Leon visited was that same city you had promised to go with him one day, to show him around the ruins and rubbles of what once pledged a great change to him. The same place that led him down a spiral instead, a cursed shadow now hanging over his head which only seemed to grow thicker and thicker.

He wasn’t going to miss it. Not this damn city. And certainly, not your absence. As he emerged slowly on the brink of Raccoon City, returning from his visit with one of his old commanding officers, he turned to look at the demolished skyline one last time as the first winter snow began to fall, the white beads glowing shyly against the vast darkness of the night. 

The wait was over now. He could finally go out there and leave all of this behind.

His warm sigh left him in a pale cloud as he slowly turned away and towards the flaring headlights of the military truck behind him. Without looking back, he walked to the car and slid into the backseat. He met the driver’s eyes through the rearview mirror and gave him a small nod.

“I’m ready to go.”

He leaned his elbow against the car door as the engine spurred to life, his eyes momentarily flickering to his side at the box of his belongings, that fresh and young pot of plant which was once yours sat atop. 

A faint smile shadowed over his lips as he picked the plant up with one hand and held it under the passing blur of streetlights that poured inside the vehicle. He stroked one of its leaves between two fingers, his smile turning downward as he sighed again. 

It’s gonna be okay, he thought solemnly to himself.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil smut #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy x you #resident evil fanfiction #leon s kennedy #re2 #resident evil x reader #resident evil leon #resident evil 2 #leon x reader #resident 2 remake #resident evil #re2r leon #leon scott kennedy #leon resident evil #leon kennedy

[byeaaram]

Take My Hand (Take My Whole Life Too)

Summary: In which death welcomes you in the cruelest way possible, and your girlfriend suffers the same fate. You don't know which hurt more.

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader

Warnings: Major Character Death, Light Depictions of Violence, Reincarnation, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, OOC Wednesday Addams(?)

Notes: I don't usually write, but I couldn't get this out of my head. Maybe I'll start to use this space whenever I have an idea. I'm a sucker for reincarnation. Term dictionary at the end.

***

Your vision was tunneling in on you. 

It was a grueling battle. You had fought relentlessly for the place you had called home for years, as it crumbled and shook, threatening to destroy the very core of the Earth with its last gasp.

Droplets of blood cascaded down your face, while your fingers twitched in defiance of your failing body. Amidst the chaos, a voice called out to you, though it sounded distant and muffled. Your senses were drowning, as if struggling to grasp onto the fading presence of your girlfriend, whose lingering sensation barely registered.

Oh. Oh.

Wednesday. Weakly, you called out to her, your voice barely a whisper, as you stretched your trembling hand in a desperate attempt to grasp her attention. To your relief, your plea bore fruit, as she held onto you tightly, her grip firm, and with nimble strength, she pulled you into the shelter of her chest.

“Perdóname, cara mia, for I did not protect you with all my might. I failed you, and now I‘ll have to lose you to whom they call death.” 

Despite her habitual speech that rang through your surroundings, you sensed a break in her tone, one that felt unfamiliar too, as Wednesday Addams never cries. “W-Wednesday…?” 

With a trembling hand, you reached out once more for her hand, desperate for any connection in this moment of turmoil. As your fingers intertwined, you flinched at the unexpected warmth that greeted you, a stark contrast to the usual cold touch of your beloved's hands. Pulling your hand back, you mustered a gasp, realizing that your vision was now clouded by a crimson hue. 

Through the haze, you finally gazed upon your girlfriend, searching for an explanation in her eyes. “W-Wednesday, you’re b-bleeding!”

It was then, you noticed Wednesday’s fallen figure. She too was slumped to the ground, her body twisted at an awkward angle. The room's dim light cast eerie shadows across her fragile form, adding an unsettling aura to the sight. Your heart skipped a beat as you reached to cup her cheek, a mix of concern and dread coursing through your veins.

Despite her failing systems, Wednesday managed to muster a faint smirk, her hands coated in blood finding their way back to yours. With a gentle touch, her thumb circled your hand. Even in the face of adversity, she remained steadfast, providing solace in her touch, despite the grim reality of her condition.  “I’m so sorry, mi sol, but I am horrified to tell you that the both of us are knocking at the reaper's door.” 

Summoning all her strength, she pulled you closer, her lips tenderly brushing against every edge of your face. The sweetness of her touch and the soothing scent of her presence enveloped you, momentarily calming the storm within your mind. With heartfelt reassurance, she consoled your fears, but the bitter irony of the situation overwhelmed you, causing a pathetic sob to escape your lips.

Fading fast, the two of you clung to each other desperately, as if refusing to allow even the tiniest sliver of space between your bodies. The thought of witnessing the look of defeat and anguish on her face was unbearable, as you dreaded the worst outcome. 

Fear gripped your heart, the dread of being torn apart from the girl you cherished above all else. It felt as if the universe was cruelly signaling its intention, delivering a heart-wrenching message that threatened to separate you forever.

The thought shook your entire world. 

A voice pulled you out of your distressed wake.

“Ma non temere, la mia rosa appassita; perché cercherò e distruggerò ogni fessura della Terra finché non ti troverò. Questo universo crudele non ha nulla a che vedere con il mio amore per te, questo è certo. La morte può attenderci, ma non mi separerà mai da te. Ti amo. Tu sei il mio tutto. Il mio sole. La mia luce. La mia rosa. Non abbiate paura.” 

Albeit not understanding a thing she said, you let out a watery laugh, pulling yourself closer and nuzzling your head at the crook of her neck. “…I l-love you too, Wednesday.” 

Time felt slower this way. You wondered, if this was not the end, would this have been your future? Would you have been here, in Wednesday’s arms under the circumstances? Is this how your mornings would start? She would cite a proclamation of her love, adorning the sweet, sweet smile you would mirror, and you would sigh in contentment at the start of your morning. 

You let out a shaky breath, molding yourself closer to your Wednesday’s body. Your eyes began to flit to a close, and before you let sleep consume you, you reminded yourself to wish your girlfriend goodnight. 

“…Wednesday… ‘m tired now. Gonna go sleep…”

You feel her chest shake. She lets out a sigh, “…I will see you soon, l'amore della mia vita.”

In the morning, you'd find the sight of a petite figure racing towards you. Whispers and cries of joy, calling your name, would escape from the most exquisite lips you've ever seen. As your eyes lock, a powerful gaze grounds you to the Earth, and delicate hands reach for yours, gently pulling you into a warm embrace.

“I found you.”

An underlying sense of familiarity greets you in a new life. 

***

Dictionary: Unfortunately, I do not know any other language other than English, so I used Google Translate for these terms.

"Perdóname, cara mia" (Spanish) - "Forgive me, my love"

"Mi sol" (Spanish) - "My sun"

"Ma non temere, la mia rosa appassita; perché cercherò e distruggerò ogni fessura della Terra finché non ti troverò. Questo universo crudele non ha nulla a che vedere con il mio amore per te, questo è certo. La morte può attenderci, ma non mi separerà mai da te. Ti amo. Tu sei il mio tutto. Il mio sole. La mia luce. La mia rosa. Non abbiate paura." (Italian) - "But fear not, my withered rose; for I will seek and destroy every crevice of the Earth until I find you. This cruel universe has nothing to do with my love for you, that's for sure. Death may await us, but it will never separate me from you. I love you. You are my everything. My sun. My light. My rose. Don't be afraid."

"l'amore della mia vita." (Italian) - "Love of my life."

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday angst #wednesday imagine #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega imagine

[simptiara]

Valentine's day with yandere! Chigiri Hyoma

class fight - Melanie Martinez

Her face was fucked up and my hands were bloody

We were in the playground, things were getting muddy

The teacher broke us up after I broke her

And my one true love called me a monster~~

TW: Chigiri being so ooc, stalking, Chigiri being slightly sadistic?, Chigiri beating someone up, use of abuse, eruption of anger, one sided crush, reader has feelings for other person, Chigiri likes to eliminate his opponents by beating them to death by fist, idk what to write anymore

*before bluelock, gn!reader goes to same school as him but different class and can put any character of your choice in (random name) space

•Imagine him waking up smiling ear to ear, filled with anticipation and excitement for the day ahead even though he stayed up late night thinking how'd he approach his crush.

•Giving you the chocolate he poured his heart in, specially made for you with all his love, the box is also carefully crafted with attention to detail.

•It's the atleast the easiest thing he could do for you, infact he would do anything for you, no matter the cost. His adoration for you knows no bounds, he hangs on your every word that he overheard, gazes at you with stars in his eyes, and would follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked.

•Ever since when the life changing accident happened(his ACL) it was like a end of his reason to continue on living. He seems like don't really mind about that on the outside, keeping tough play but in the inside it was a pure mess. Plus those Wanima brothers were real irksome shits, on his already struggling self they are here to eat him with words.

•Thinking about the harsh words he heard from them, he was barely on verge of tears while finally managed to sit on the stairs where the students doesn't usually use. Sniffling, letting put silent frustrated huffs when a faint footsteps heard from his behind, him turning around to see your taken aback expression, probably from seeing someone like him in this state.

•"Must be tough. Shits happen right? But don't give up tho." awkwardly stating these words as you give him a stiff thumbs up, leaving him alone immediately. It left the one who was about to cry earlier in wonderstruck, somehow he found it cutesy that you suck at comforting people and it was apperant from your gesture towards him.

•That's how you draw his interest immediately, later then when he gets to know you were a new transfer student, running into you in school halls (but you don't even bat an single glance at him), soon it led him to get utterly devoted to you, the point where he couldn't get you out of his mind.

•Watching you silently from afar, driven even more head over heels for you, for your simple manner, unique characteristics. You stole his heart wholly in the meantime, now he just had to win yours.

•His crimson irises watched you walk into school as soon as you step in, he rushed to go after you. Being the first one to give you the chocolate along with confessing all the words he rehearsed last night, it's the day he has been longing since forever.

•But...someone already in front of you, in front of his love, well soon-to-be-his-love but who cares, seeing someone other with you is painful to his eyes. That person's face is beetroot red, hands shaking uncontrollably while holding the chocolate to you, avoiding from your eyes shyly which you softly chucked at, probably adoring their behavior he thought.

•In reality you were just in a awkward state, chuckled to not to seem so rude or stiff.

•"The fuck?" cursing under his breath, Chigiri almost crushed the box of chocolates in the grip that he wished to be around that person's throat.

•Who the fuck is that nobody to earn your attention on them so easily?

•You accepted the chocolate gracefully, tried to give them a appreciated smile when they seem to get even more shy, covering their face as ran away from you, leaving you stood dumbpounded after them.

•It bothered the pinkish-red haired individual this little that he just wanted to have a small talk with that person.

•The small talk he mean is, approach them in friendly manner and ask them if they have a minute to spare(make sure to ask it while no one's around if not, it'll be a trouble later). Then brought them to a corner outside the school where the smokers usually hang around since there is no CCTV while keeping the conversation normal to prevent them from suspecting things.

•No people in sight, perfect area. Perfect area to lung at them and beat that shit outta with his all might, turning them into bloody pulp, face fucked up too bad to can't even form a single word out.

•He wanted to be the one to confess his undying feelings for you, wanted to be the first to make you taste the chocolates that is full of his love, WANTED TO BE THE ONLY ONE FOR YOU.

•He could feel the satisfaction building inside of him to the sound of fist hitting flesh echoid through the empty alleyway, each contact with the bloody face made stomach churning disgusting slush noise.

•"Let's see if my love would spare you a glance in your disgusting pathetic state."

•Kicking them in the stomach last time, getting a weak grunt from them, he turned to take the chocolate he put far away to keep it clean from getting any dirty on it but the box got smudged by the blood on his hands anyway.

•Clicking his tongue, he headed back to school to clean himself a bit(if he's been seen like this, it'd make pretty bad fuss all over school). Since everybody in class right now, he wouldn't have to worry about running into someone right?

•So he decided to pass by your class to atleast hoping a little peek of you but right when he was about to turn the corner in the way of your class, he saw someone outside, also you leaving the class while your other classmates all hurried to doorway peeking behind you.

•Hiding himself, leaning back to the wall while hugging the box of chocolates, he took a deep breath, listening attentively to the other two teenagers, plus some hushed bickers from your other classmates.

•"Oh, (Random name)!" you voice held a light cheerful tone within can be heard and as soon as Chigiri recalled who it might be, his heart dropped straight down to his guts. The name of the one he overheard about you having a crush on them.

•Peeking from the corner to take a clear look of the situation, it only made his already unstable mind even more ruined. You looking at your crush in awe as they held out a massive bouquet of your (favourite flower or snacks idc), your friends and classmates has been shipping you two, are cheering and congrulating to the new couples that almost every person has eyes and ears knew the power couple potential between you two.

•"From the first day that you transfered here and i laid my eyes on you," your so-called crush starts to open their heart, heat rose up to your cheeks when Chigiri felt himself unconsciously moving on his own, just a moment ago he was behind the wall and now straddling on top of the teenager.

•In a switch of second, your eyes slightly widened upon seeing the ex-football prodigy appearing in front of you so suddenly while tossing the box he was carrying something in his arms to the floor. Not just that... with bloody knuckles and splattered few drops of red on his face... landing merciless punch on the (random name).

•Who would have believed if someone with such slim and frail looking like him could use such strength, with each landed punch, his body shook with determination and his eyes blazed with an intensity that seemed almost inhuman.

•"Is that the Chigiri Hyoma?", "The one who used to play football?" playful teasing bickers turned into shocked even more louder when the students from other classmates burst out their classes cause of the sudden commotion. "Is that a fight?", "Break them out!"

"Chigiri Hyoma...?" you mumbled out while processing the flash of events, still shocked from the thing just happened in front of you. Boys were quick to take the red-haired boy away from the bloody mess he made in just few seconds, leaving (random name) struggled to get up and breathe but seems like Chigiri had already broke their nose.

"Yes! It's me! The one and only love of your life!" while desperately tried to break free from the other boys holding him back, he spoke out shamelessly, trying jump into you and engulf you into his warm embrace but you took a few steps back out of horrification.

With knotted eyebrows twitching in disgust, you glared at him with tint of hateful in your lovely eyes that sent pang to his little heart, made him realize what he had done and even stopped struggling against the hold. You kept on the threathening glare while crouching down to the teenager he was just beating, gently embracing their head.

"Are you okay?" you talk softly with the one on the floor whilst putting their head on your lap in support, one hand holding their hand, other hand caressing their face.

"What a cold-blooded monster..." you bluntly said straight to his face cruelly, entirely shattering his little fragile heart. He felt like he is losing another reason to live again yet the frustration inside him grew even more darker.

"T-trouble with b-breathing..." hatchy breath left the person you holding gently, you frowned at them. Your soft gaze benevolenced the one in your hold as looked up once again to meet with crimson pink eyes,

Maybe this time he'll let you act whatever you want but soon you'll learn to love him... even if means using force on you.

i put isagi on the (random name) space bcz i love him???

posted on my yandere chigiri x malereader fanfic as a Valentine's special chapter (on wattpad) as well.

first time trying to write scenaria? oneshot? style idk whatever is, it's not something fit for me write😭😭😭(i hate it sm)

I APOLOGIZE FOR WRITING CHIGIRI SO OUT OF CHARACTERR🙏🙏🙏

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #yandere blue lock #yandere bllk x reader #chigiri hyoma #chigiri x reader #hyoma chigiri

[edgeray]

Part 2: Sweeter Than Wine(Nico Robin x Fem! Reader)

Part I

A/N: A friend said I couldn't write fluff. I wrote this as a 'fuck you' to her. Never fucking doubt me again. Anyways, enjoy this 2.6k sequel.

Warnings: Reader uses female pronouns, Robin may be OOC, heavily implied sexual content (not actually there and not described detailedly, but still there), pet names, if there is more that needs to be added to this please feel free to tell me

Synopsis: After the bar encounter and the following sexual intimacy, you and Miss All Sunday bask in each other's company.

Your body violently convulsed with a final guttural scream expelling from your lips and your arched back fell onto the soiled covers beneath you. An indecent, moist squelch followed shortly after, a hollowness now felt in your lower body, making you sigh disappointedly. The aftereffects of your indulgent activity had yet to pass: your limbs twitched at random intervals, an impossibly scorching heat coiled around your entire form, and your breathing matched your racing heartbeat. Your mind swam in an abyss of haziness, briefly toeing the boundaries between consciousness and subconsciousness. Time became an irrelevant concept as you floated in a sea of white. Gradually, reality returned to you, piecing back together both your memory and vision. 

There was a dip in the mattress beside you and, with a lazy turn of your head, your drooping eyes traversed over the form of another person lying adjacent to you. Your lips turned to a soft smile at the recognition of the other woman who was sitting up on the mattress and she gifted back a sweet half-smirk on her temping lips as she viewed your exhausted and heaving figure. An extended hand reached down towards you, overshadowing your vision for a moment. Slender fingers entangled themselves in the nest of your locks, an instant wave of appreciated comfort washing over you from the ginger threading. You nudged your head against her palm, a wordless request for further engagement. 

Your body ached for more of her contact, wishing to experience the naturalness of your bodies sliding against one another like you had minutes prior. Perhaps you were insatiable, or perhaps that was just how alluring the woman was. In any case, you were just content that she didn't leave your presence after she guided you through the gates of heaven, then to the depths of hell, then back, like the angelic devil she was. She tired your muscles and nerves to the point of ache, bruised and branded your skin with impurities and blessings, and ripped parts of your soul away with masterful hands–all while making you want more. As expected, of course, from the vice-president of the all-powerful Baroque Works. 

“Thank you,” you found yourself whispering, more to yourself than her. For the unforgettable and inexplicable night she created, for an unmatched intimacy and pleasure that you’ve yet experienced until tonight, for gracing you with her presence and more than you had originally imagined. You didn’t say your inner monologue out loud, though it wasn’t necessary. It was apparent your gratitude reached her ears as she caressed your flushed cheeks with her knuckles in response and a sultry chuckle came from her. 

“There’s no need to thank me,” Miss All Sunday answered alongside a slight shake of her head. “You were just as exquisite,” her fingers cascaded down to the side of your neck, its sensitivity compelling you to shiver from a faint brush, “as I’d hoped for.”   

If your cheeks could redden more than they already were, you were sure you would resemble a tomato. Ignoring the inflammatory heat on your face, you etched her words on your mind before another greedy desire came to you. Your lips parted, a request on the tip of your tongue, but you quickly clamped down before any rash utterance came out of you. Now that she had already withdrawn from you, you two were no longer cosplaying as lovers. 

When your lips first met with hers hours ago in the dainty little bar, the margin between boss and employee was quickly swept away just like your breath; forgotten just like the garments thrown carelessly across the inn room in each other’s haste to explore the other. When she had led you by hand, you followed compliantly with not even more than one step behind her. When she had pinned you against the wall the moment you two were behind locked doors, you welcomed every touch and sensation that came your way. When her hands slinked underneath your layers of fabric, yours roamed around the fringes of her skirt and the strings of her corset. When she peeled away layer by layer of fabric from your form, your fingers scrambled to unbutton and loosen every obstacle in her way. And when she coaxed you over the edge again and again, she had not done it as Miss All Sunday, and when you had surrounded your restraint to her, you had not done it as a Million. But now that both of your desires were sated, was there any need to practice this informality between you two for any longer? 

Her keen gaze didn’t miss your hesitance, however. Curious sapphire gems locked with your eyes. “What is it?” 

You wanted to feel more of her, but not in the fervent, animalistic manner the two of you had just participated in minutes ago. Somewhere amid the entanglement of limbs, the ardent exchange of kisses, and the wild passion that brimmed the room spawned more than just a sensual yearning for the woman beside you. You wanted her in the way you wanted to stay in her embrace for one second longer because her warmth melted away the cold reality of the world. In the way you wanted her to kiss you, leaving you senseless and gasping by the end of it and intoxicated off of her sweet wine-tasting lips. In the way you wanted to surrender your entire soul, body, and mind to her so long as she kept you close. But such desires were unobtainable and ridiculous, and so the most you coveted at the moment was to feel her arms around you again.

Your attention wandered over her form. She lounged adjacent to you, her plush thighs just a few inches away from brushing against your shoulders and her lanky legs crossed over one another. Even after the shared intimacy, her form always succeeded in wringing out the oxygen from your lungs. She looked so ethereal, then, and even more so now. This time, you weren’t observing her prior flawless skin. Instead, like yours, hers was littered with marks across her body; a bit of giddiness swelled inside you with the knowledge that those prints were your doing. Impulsively, your arm outstretched towards her, and your fingertips landed on one of the bite marks on her outer thigh, trailing over the shallow dents formed by teeth. However, the taller woman jerked from the contact and you swiftly retracted your finger.

“I'm sorry,” you apologized quickly in panic. “I shouldn't have-” 

The vice president interrupted you with a shake of your head, and the continuous playful weaving of your hair dispelled your anxiety. 

“You wanted to say something, am I correct?” While she still wore her attractive smile, her eyes darkened with just a bit of edge to them, reminding you of the power she possessed in her palm, a power that is mountainous compared to your meager status as a Million.

You averted your eyes from her glower and you chose your next words carefully. “I... I’m afraid I’ll offend you.” 

“Speak.” 

Her demand is met with hesitant silence. When it was clear you would not oblige, the hand in your hair trailed down your face and grasped your chin, forcing you to gaze up into her expression, which was hardened like stone and lacked its prior softness. That in itself made you shrink into yourself, a spasmodic ball of anxiety forming in the pit of your stomach. In the few hours you’ve familiarized yourself with the woman, you have never met with those turbulent, roaring ocean eyes until now. 

“Darling,” she called out and the lack of adoration that usually accompanied your nickname made you succumb. 

“I... I want to feel your embrace again,” you admitted feebly. A silence fell between you two again, and you wondered if you had just uttered your last words until a breathy laughter came from the other woman. The grip on your chin dissipated and her fingertips traced down your jaw before wandering up to stroking your cheeks. Your facial tissue laxed spontaneously and the warmth from her touch contaminated your cheeks.  

“Good girl,” she praised you for obeying, and the nickname made you feel like putty in her hands again.

“You really are such a sweet little thing,” the woman purred archly. She shifted herself forward and then laid on the covers adjacent to you. A lanky arm curved around each side of your form, your hips cupped by both her hands, and sweltering heat pressed against your front as you were pulled into her body. The bare contact of her chest against yours made you gasp out loud, a bolt of ecstasy shooting through your body. Her chin tucked your head into her neck and an enticing floral scent wafted through your nostrils while you nuzzled into her skin. From the proximity of her chest to yours, through her skin you felt the faint thumping of her heart–and it was racing. You had that effect on her, her heart was racing just like yours for you. Your being was kindled ablaze with exhilaration, an untreatable fever befalling you as you ravenously absorbed her warmth like a sponge. Your palms linked behind her lower back, ensuring your bodies had as little distance between one another as possible. 

“Was this what you wanted?” You felt her teasing words vibrate through her throat and you meekly nodded. One of the Miss’s hands left your hip to caress your nape, making you shudder from the sensitivity. The two of you laid comfortably in each other’s company, soaking in one another’s presence before you broke the silence.

“I wish that we didn’t have these codenames,” you thoughtlessly rambled, which piqued her attention. “I’d love to call you by your real name, Miss All Sunday.” 

When Miss All Sunday didn’t reply, your shoulders deflated, but you weren’t yet discouraged. “I know it’s forbidden and that you won’t tell me. I won’t ask. But I think you’d have the prettiest name.” 

It took several seconds for her to respond. “And how’d you come to that conclusion?” 

One of your hands found themselves in Devil Fruit user’s silky black hair and you carded your fingers through her locks. A quick peck was placed on the taller woman's throat. “Just a feeling,” you sighed.

“R.”

“Hm?” 

“That’s my first initial.” 

You smiled into her skin, nuzzling your face further into the snug of her neck. “R..." you repeated her words with a whisper akin to a sacred prayer. 

Maybe that was what Miss All Sunday was to you: a superior, a divine being, a deity–your goddess. Technically speaking, you answered to her and you did her bidding because she was your superior, a higher official in the criminal organization you found yourself a part of. Yet, you also worshipped her body, chanted and praised her name, sang melodic hymns for her satisfaction, and devoted yourself to her tonight. Wouldn’t that make you her devotee? You’d inscribe her touch and voice into your cerebrum, etching down every utterance articulated from her lips like a passage in your religious scripture, ensuring that you were faithful to her and her alone. And the first thing engraved in your newly converted religion’s scripture? A dedication to the letter ‘R’ on the opening page. 

That thought would have amused her, you humored yourself. 

You wanted to ask more about her. You wanted to ask about what amused her the most so that on the off chance of you two meeting again, you could drink in the dulcet chords of her laughter. You wanted to ask her what flower was the scent of her perfume so that you could indulge in the scent to remember her. You wanted to ask what made her eyes shine so brightly like the star you’ve found yourself orbiting. You wanted to ask her exactly why she chose you of all people, and why she decided to show you a compassion and vulnerability you doubted she shared with many people. 

But you didn’t part your lips to utter any of those wonderings in fear that it would dismantle the pleasant atmosphere shared between the two of you. Miss All Sunday was a woman shrouded in mystery and secrecy; that much was obvious when you didn’t recognize her even as the vice president of Baroque Works. Any further prodding would do you no good. 

Instead, you unburied your face from her neck and gazed up into her. You were met with warm azure pits and the smallest of smiles. 

“Can I kiss you?” came your abrupt request. 

Wordlessly, she obliged to your request without any stalling, leaning forward to press her pillowy lips against yours and you swore you were sampling heaven itself. Each kiss is just as succulent as the last, no matter the dozen times you’ve already indulged yourself in her, but this one distinguished itself from the rest: it was by far the most tender. Miss All Sunday relished you with a certain precision, you’d think she was framing the structure of your mouth with precise measurements. Her tongue caressed the plumpness of your lips with a matching meticulousness, a slowness to it that only signified her sincerity. 

A muffled whimper left your throat as you were melting from the sensation of her. You closed your eyes to revel in Miss All Sunday unreservedly, accepting every movement of her mouth by replicating it back. Your body felt like liquid magma was poured all over it and every nerve of yours was ignited. Your heart was singing again, pitter-pattering joyously, and threatened to leap out of your throat. You grasped one of the other woman’s cheeks gently with your hands, intimately kneading the facial tissue like she had done for you. A small force was applied to the back of your head as Miss All Sunday made a futile attempt to push you impossibly nearer than you two already were. 

Unfortunately, due to the necessity of oxygen, the two of you pulled away, and it was only then when you opened your eyes you realized the difficulty in that. A briefly forgotten fatigue made itself prominent by weighing down your bones and a stretched yawn was involuntarily extracted from you.

“You should rest, darling.” 

Her suggestion was attractive–falling asleep in her embrace–but a fear crossed your thoughts before you allowed yourself to succumb. “Will you be there when I wake up?”

Her pursed lips already answered your question before she spoke. “I have something I need to do.” 

A childish pout made its way onto your face, but it didn’t prevent the second yawn coming from you. Sleepiness overtook your form, coercing you to shut your eyes and yield to the comfort of Miss All Sunday’s hold. 

“Go to sleep, my sweet thing. For me, if you will.” 

The hold around you tightened and that brought you enough comfort to drift away. 

“Sweet dreams, my dear.” 

When you woke up, nude and alone on the bed, you should have felt a deep disappointment in your chest. Instead, excitement wormed its way into your heart and you grinned stupidly. When you woke up, you were met with blackness; something that was weighing over your face was blocking out the light from a nearby burning candle. Pulling it off revealed to you that it was a purple felt hat, and in an instant, you recognized it as Miss All Sunday’s. 

In the hat was a note, reading: 

‘Be a good girl for me, won’t you? Keep this until I find you again. Wait for me, my dear.

-Your 'R'’

---

Can you tell I'm in love? I love her.

#nico robin x reader #nico robin x you #nico robin x y/n #nico robin fic #one piece fic #one piece fanfiction #one piece nico robin #one piece x reader #op x reader #edgeray.writes #edgeray.blog

[atticsandwich]

in the aftermath

pairing: barbatos / gn! reader

lowercase intended, post-canon, mc had passed away after a fulfilled human lifespan, angst-ish, kinda ooc?

he can't help it; he yearns for glimpses of you time and time and time again, and just as he thinks he can finally move on, he remembers the feel of your touch and the scent of your skin...

...and so he goes back, time and time and time again.

a/n: happy (late) birthday, barb <3

-

barbatos knows that what he's doing is wrong.

at first, he tells himself it's for closure - he even asks permission from the demon prince to see you one last time, who, after some light persuasion, finally relents. he breathes in a nervous breath as he steps into a door in his room to see your face.

one last look. that's all he needs.

the months, years, following your death was not easy for any of your beloved demons - they knew it was coming, and despite suggestions and persuasions of extending your life through magic, you were adamant in fully embracing your natural lifespan as a human. they loved you as you grew older, as your hair turned gray, as your skin wrinkled and bagged, as your bones ached at the slightest stretch.

it was painful to watch and accept, but they loved you.

barbatos loved you.

being a demon that existed even before the creation of humanity and the human realm, he's no stranger to death - time and death go hand in hand after all. countless names and faces have been archived to the back of his mind, names and faces he will never see or hear of ever again.

so why - why couldn't he still fully accept when the day finally came for thirteen to take your soul?

he supposes you were just that impactful to him, that despite everything he's learned, experienced, steeled himself from, all of those amounted to nothing when it came to you. when you were alive, he was never one to outwardly show his affections, instead opting to show you in different ways - from always having your favorite tea blend on hand, to taking note of how much sugar you'd put in, and how much time you'd wait for the tea's warmth to be bearable. he'd also always have your favorite snacks to pair with the tea, even making it a point to take trips to the human realm because you once mentioned loving a particular brand. when he had tea with you, he'd always use the cup you picked out for him, saved only for occassions when it's just the two of you in each other's presence.

he sometimes wonders if he spent enough time with you - being a butler of the future king of the devildom certainly limited the frequency at which you two would see each other, but you always did assure him that you were content with whatever time he had free when he had his off-days.

taking another step, he's in a familiar house now. in the distance, he could hear the faint squabbling of the brothers in the dining area - something about mammon taking levi's pudding earlier that afternoon. eventually he arrives to the door of your room, and before he could knock, it swings wide open, and he's greeted by the face he's longed for.

"barbatos! what are you doing here?"

he pauses, his mind blank. "i... i simply missed you, is all," in a sense, he truly wasn't lying. you smile at his confession.

"hm...? are you... crying, barb?" you ask, concerned, reaching to wipe the tears off his face with your thumb. he revels at the warmth of your palms, indulging in it for just a small while.

"it seems... i missed you more than i thought."

giggling, you tiptoe to plant a small kiss on the bridge of his nose. "you're always welcome to come see me, you know."

"i know." is his only reply, before engulfing you in his arms in a tight embrace. you're slightly confused, but you hug back nonetheless.

"i know," he whispers, to himself, before he needs to face reality again.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me barbatos #barbatos x reader #obey me fanfic #obey me angst #barbatos x mc #omswd

[elsfavor1te]

ANGELS WEPT, pt. 3

hi welcome back to my cute little universe. this part is sad as usual but the next one (4) should have the action. little nervous. small reminder to please like nd repost! that’s the only way things get shared around here. here’s to hoping this part does well!

warnings: graves, panic attack/ptsd (?), sad ellie, mentions of death, hurt/comfort, probably ooc everyone, i think that’s all <3 enjoy 🤸🏾‍♀️

ellie sifted the coarse dirt through her fingers, slowly building up a little pile. her jaw clenched when she read over the writing on the grave for what felt like the thousandth time since she got here.

she released a long breath through her nostrils before speaking, “you got your pretty funeral, huh baby?”

a faint smile blesses her lips when she feels a particularly strong gust of wind blow. ellie wasn’t one to believe in stuff like that. but she’d believe in any myth, superstition, or religion if it meant you were still close to her.

her mouth dries up as she tries to find more words to say to you. maybe she should apologize again? maybe she should try and just speak normally; but that’s hard when you’re speaking to a slab of stone.

the cold breeze against her freckled cheeks and the hardness of the ground underneath her knees takes her back to that room.

“baby please get up!”

she shuts her eyes tightly, pushing her nimble hand up to her chest in an attempt to stabilize her ragged breathing.

“i’m okay, it’s all-“

the sound of a brick falling and hitting another reminds her of the all too familiar sound of that fucking golf club, dropping her deeper into her own mind.

for some reason she feels as if she can smell the blood, like she could when they were holding her down against the floor in that room. she couldn’t forget that metallic smell even if she tried.

she never thought she would find herself in this situation again. her eyes shut tightly as she desperately attempted to remind herself this wasn’t actually happening again.

her heart began to beat faster. the sound fills her ears, drowning out all ambient sounds of the environment around her.

she doesn’t hear dina’s concerned shout for her.

it’s a particularly chilly day but ellie swears she can feel sweat dripping from her forehead and down her face. when she opens her eyes again, her stomach churns as if she’s gonna be sick.

she still there.

she’s sobbing now, fully convinced she’s back in the situation where she failed you. she can feel the hands digging into the flesh of her arms and the knee in her back. the revelation makes her immediately attempt to fight the people holding her down.

nearly everything is the same. same girl taking away your liveliness away one blow at a time, same dimly lit room, same sunken feeling all throughout her body. one thing is different though, you. your face is still bloodied and broken, but your lips are moving as if you’re speaking.

“help me, ellie.” your voice echoed around the room. it sounded… broken, like you were in so much pain. “ellie,, please! you’re supposed to protect me.”

she whimpers, as she struggles. “i know, i’m sorry— i’m sorry.”

“ellie please help me! please,, please.”

her hands claw at her throat, she wasn’t getting enough air. she felt as if someone was choking her, stealing all of her oxygen straight from her lungs. “i can’t get up.”

“please stop!!” ellie’s sudden scream startles jesse and dina who were slowly beginning to approach her. they were unsure if she actually needed their help until her outburst, making them hasten their steps toward her.

“please don’t do this.” she pleads as if she can change the outcome of the situation. as if she could still save you from your brutal death.

ellie is brought back to the present by dina’s cold hands against her face, obstructing the paths of her steady tears. at first she fights against her, stuck between reality and the twisted memory. when her tear-filled eyes catch dina’s worried ones, she calms for a moment.

that moment doesn’t last long before she’s backing away from dina’s gentle touch, wrapping her arms around herself. no one’s ever seen her like that, no one but you. she didn’t want her friends to see her like that, she doesn’t want anyone to worry about her.

ellie’s eyes dart between jesse and dina’s worry stricken features as she attempts to calm herself down.

in an attempt to stop the incessant trembling of her bottom lip she pulls it into her mouth. the nervousness consuming her makes her accidentally bite down on her lip hard enough to taste blood.

she’s tried to stop thinking about how you looked when your life was taken from you, how you must’ve felt. she tried to get the sound of you begging her to save you out of her mind.

jesse’s speaking. she can clearly see his mouth moving but for some reason, can’t hear a word coming from his mouth over the volume of her blood pumping in her ears.

when the sob finally escaped from her lips and her knees weakened, jesse was there to catch her. he tries his best to let go of the initial awkwardness of the affection that ellie and him had never shared before.

they never had the chance to be this vulnerable with eachother before. sure, they’ve exchanged i few sentimental words but if you asked him if he ever thought he would have to hold ellie williams while she cried? he’d say no in a heartbeat. not out of being unwilling to, but from the only time he’d seen her express any emotion was with you.

“you’re okay…. dina and i are— are here.” he whispers soothingly into her hair, stealing panicked glances at dina.

“breathe with us, el.” dina chimes in.

ellie was too exhausted to fight his embrace once she had finally calmed down enough, just gradually dropping her tight hold on him.

there was no denying the embarrassment bubbling in her and slowly taking over all of her limbs. she closed her eyes gently and whispered words only loud enough for hopefully, you to hear before getting up and walking straight past her friends.

she couldn’t be here any longer, and she definitely couldn’t stand seeing the pity on the faces of people she loved. she could recognize it quickly after seeing it on all of the townspeople these past two days.

“ellie! where are you going?” dina shouted as she jogged after her, trying her best to catch her stride.

ellie ignored her, keeping her eyes focused on the exit out into the street.

she only makes it a few meters outside of the cemetery before she’s stopped by jesse’s hand on her shoulder.

“where are you—“

“you guys don’t have to come with me,, you know that right?” she turns and faces them.

dina’s look of confusion is mirrored over to jesse’s. “why wouldn’t we come with you?”

it isn’t that ellie doesn’t want them to, because she does. she knows they want justice for you just as bad she does but.. she feels unpredictable. she had no control over what just happened to her— so what if it happens again? what if it happens during a time where she needs to be focused?

“i don’t— i don’t wanna be a burden.” her red-rimmed eyes stare at the concrete as if she wants it to open up and swallow her.

“ellie, you go, we go. end of story.” dina grabs one of her hands.

dina and jesse had talked about the risks beforehand, out of clarification because they know there wasn’t a chance they weren’t going. your absence sat heavy on their hearts. especially jesse’s.

“…oh,, okay.” she whispered as she stood up a little straighter, putting her mask of confidence and nonchalance back on. “i need to stop by our house first.”

at their nods she turns on her heel and begins to lead the way.

———

the walk to your once shared home was encompassed with a comfortable silence, occasionally being broken by small talk about the plan to leave jackson.

by the time the group reached the porch of the two-story home, ellie’s mind was reeling. she knew what she had to come in and get, but deep down she knew she would be sidetracked. nonetheless, she rolls out her shoulders and reaches a trembling hand toward the doorknob.

she hesitates, tightening her hand into a fist. dina catches her wrist, giving her a solemn look.

“you don’t have to do this, y’know? we can go in and get whatever it is you need.”

“no— no that’s okay.” she gives her a small smile and opens the door.

the familiar smell of your home welcomes ellie back. if she was truthful, she couldn’t stand to sleep in the queen sized bed without you next to her, so she’d been crashing at joel’s for the past two days.

“okay… you got this ellie.” she muttered, only loud enough for herself.

———

ellie had finally made it up to your bedroom. your things messily strewn around taunted her, reminding her you wouldn’t be there touch them anymore.

it’s almost exactly how it was when she left to find you that day, apart from the small shoebox sitting at the foot of the bed. when she approaches it she can tell tommy left it there. your name is scrawled across the top in his messy handwriting.

her calloused hands move to open the top of the box slowly, unsure of what she may find inside. what’s inside makes her pink lips stretch into a soft smile.

your things are inside, what was on you when you died.

her fingers graze over the top of your trinkets, stopping at the yarn bracelet you’d worn everyday. her gentle green eyes examine it for a few seconds before sliding it onto her own wrist.

“ellie!!”

the shout of her name startles her. making her huff out a breath before yelling back in confusion.

“can you come down here?”

“is everything okay?” she asks, shutting the box and making sure everything is in its place before leaving.

“yeah just— just come down!”

ellie furrows her eyebrows but starts her descent down the stairs anyway, she slows to a stop when she catches sight of maria’s figure pacing back and forth in front of the dining table.

she nearly outwardly groans before she’s cut off by maria unfolding a piece of paper and beginning to speak,

“maria. i’m headed to seattle. i know we talked and i said i was gonna try to let it go, but i can’t. i have to bring these people to justice. ellie’s going to try to come after me but stop her.”

ellie rolls her eyes at this, knowing there’s no way in hell she could be stopped.

“take her guns. lock up the horses. maybe lock her up,” maria looks up and into her green eyes. “buy me some time so i can end this. stay safe, joel.”

the woman’s eyes seem to be overtaken by many emotions as she throws the paper down on the table and leans against it. “he’s gonna get himself killed. i had to— to beg tommy not to go after him.”

“he should’ve taken me with him.” ellie retorts. “you should’ve given us a group to go after those fuckers!”

“i wish i could.” maria says pointedly.

“you gonna try and lock me up?”

“i prefer you stay—“

“that’s not gonna fucking happen—“

“i prefer that you stay, but i know you better.” maria cuts her off to finish her own sentence. she sighs and looks over at dina and jesse.

“y’all going with her?”

their nods and mumbles of confirmation is all maria gets from them.

“‘course you are.. so your plan was to just- what? sneak out of here?” she begins pacing again, keeping her eyes trained on the group of them.

“..yeah.”

“on foot?”

ellie repeats her answer from earlier.

“i told the stable to let you out with your horses. grab some ammo too.”

no one speaks for a moment, not expecting her to say that.

“thank you, maria.” dina speaks up for all three of them.

“just uh- do me a favor and bring my dumbass brother back in one piece, please.”

ellie’s eyes soften, “of course.”

“alright then. get going, you’re… you’re losing light.” she nods at them before walking past and leaving out of the front door.

#mimi writes! ꕥ #angelswept #ellie williams #the last of us #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fic #tlou #tlou2 #ellie williams x fem!reader #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #joel and ellie #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams drabble #ellie willams series #ellie x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie williams smut #ellie williams hurt/comfort #dina nolastname #the last of us dina #jesse the last of us #the last of us fic #jesse tlou #dina tlou

[inanisomnia]

Hiiiii

Can you do some headcanon chishiya x reader where reader looks really arrogant but in reality is soft and shy?

Thank youuu!!!

lay me gently.

fem! reader x chishiya shuntaro

warning/s: mild profanities, slightly ooc! chishiya, mentions of ... (idk what's the term, someone tell me pls) forceful interactions... ??? WTF

ins.note: i'm currently reading tshoe (the seven husbands of evelyn hugo) that's why im not really active here in tumblr again... but no worries since i alr laid out the plot for entropy of chaos tot i'll upload it soon hehe

also if u enjoyed reading this, kindly let me know by liking or reblogging this post ^^ (only do it if its okay with u <3 ) ily all !!

- okay this is kinda tough but imma try

- we all know how deadly, and dangerous each game is in borderland and that's the beauty of this place – it brings out the human and true motives of each individuals ;

- and chishiya shuntaro, like the observant man he is, noticed you leaning on the beach's columns on the side, your left hand gripping your right elbow – away from all the jumping, drunk, wasted people on the dancefloor.

- you have a phlegmatic expression painted on your face, eyes lazily scanning each people up and down then switching to another individual then scoffing.

- someone randomly approached you, and he instantly recognized its someone that you're not close to since ever since you joined the beach, you never seem to approach anybody, seemingly annoyed at everyone's company.

- surprised, you looked at him up and down, eyebrows knitted together in ... is it confusion or irritation ? he can't seem to decipher what it is.

- you shook your head, and crossed your arms, and straightened your posture, away from him, signifying that you're not interested in whatever the man was saying to you.

- chishiya analyzed you closely ; you strike him as someone arrogant, and boastful – someone who's hyper independent, a woman who is a know-it-all when he first saw you at the beach.

- but are you, really ?

- the man paced a little closer to you, his drunken state visibly irking you as you step back the moment he got closer to you.

- you walked away from the man, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance, but you were grabbed by the wrist.

- chishiya didn't know what took over him, but he just suddenly picked up his pace towards you and wrapped his arms on your shoulder.

- "what seems to be the problem here, princess?" (but ofc in nihongo ++ with his hoarse, alluring voice, faints)

- you seem taken aback but you went along with it, "im sleepy. lets go?"

- wow

- just wow. chishiya was shocked by how your voice sounded so mellow, so soft, so tender - a complete contrast to his husky and gravelly voice.

- upon reaching a desolated hallway, he lets go of you. you thanked him and asked him how could you repay him, but he dismissed it by shaking his head.

- you smiled.

- and bid your goodbye.

- well damn. you were nothing what chishiya has thought.

- you have a tremendously soothing voice, the one that's not overly forced to sound like that, but naturally.

- ever since your encounter with each other, chishiya kept tabs on you every now and then, trying to make sure if you're okay and unhurt – from the games and the people here at the beach.

- sometimes he would go up to you to casually mention tips on how to win games in his own way. he would notice how surprised you would be when someone goes up to you unannounced, and how baffled and quiet you would be when someone tries to strike up a conversation with you.

- but with him, you seem to relax a little, and chishiya doesn't know why he's bothering to befriend you, he doesn't need anyone who'll weigh him down on his plan.

- but you're an exception, plus you're not a burden. you're intriguing and reliable, cunning, yet reserved.

- after a while, you seem to open up to chishiya, and god, he doesn't realize it yet, but he's falling for you, bit by bit. you were far from what he expected of you.

- he adores watching you analyze the world before you, he loves how tender your touch was on his skin, he adores your soft smile, the sound of your laugh.

- little did he know that he was abstractedly memorizing your features - the creases in your eyes whenever you laugh, smile, how your eyes sparkle -

- a part of him unconsciously swore that he'll protect you, and soothe you on all your anxiety-ridden days, hours, just as how you pacify all his inner demons that he himself couldn't understand.

- he just wished that he met you before waking up in this hell.

#alice in borderland #chishiya shuntaro x reader #chishiya headcanons #chishiya x reader #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya x fem!reader #aib chishiya #aib s2 #chishiya my beloved #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya imagine #hozier #work song hozier #spotify

[lonely-hearts-hiraeth]

Bite my Heart

Type: uhhh general?

Fandom: Resident Evil, post re4 but no specific time

Characters/Parings: Leon S. Kennedy/GN! Reader

Warnings: Canon typical violence, Reader got bitten, I can’t properly discern personalities because of autism so please tell me if this is ooc for him - I tried my best tho

Summary:  Leon finds you bitten when another outbreak happens, but he’s not leaving you behind.

The moment the outbreak started, Leon’s main priority was getting to you. His guns loaded at his hip as he dodged and weaved through hordes of the infected, shoving any that got too close to him.

  The male prayed that the infected hadn’t made their way into your apartment as it came into view. He could see zombies gathered around the entrance, seeing a few in different windows along the building.

  His heart was racing as he shot and sliced through zombies, rotting blood splattering on his face and clothing. You were the only thing that he was worried about, his only priority.

  Leon shoved his way into the building, closing the entrance door behind him to keep more zombies from getting in. Carefully walking through he hallways, gun ready to shoot anything that moves, he makes his way to the staircases. 

  As he made his way up, he shoved the few zombies he encountered down the concrete stairs, hearing bones crunch as limbs broke from the fall. He could her his heart beating in his ears as he finally saw your apartment number’s door.

  Yet his stomach dropped when he realized he door was left open, a faint light coming out from presumably your kitchen. He quickly made his way in, calling out your name as he searched around the apartment. As he searched, Leon heard shuffling coming from your bedroom, hope and despair both settling in his stomach as he makes his way over.

  He takes a moment to lean against the door, listening for more noise that would indicate that you were in there. As he heard shuffling, he let out a small breath before opening the door only to be greeted with a bat to his shin.

  He let out a short yell and fell to his knee, hissing at the pain while holding his leg.

  “Leon? What’re you- No, you need to leave, you can’t be here.” Your voice comes from his left, worried and apologetic, but stern. 

  “I’m here for you, dumbass. And what were you doing waiting with a bat? Zombies can’t open doors.” Leon remarks as he stands up. that hit was definitely going to leave a bruise at the very least

  You stay silent for a moment before you let out a small “Oh, right,” but you shake your head quickly. “It’s not safe, you have to go.” You hut your hands on his shoulders, trying to gently push him out of the room, yet he doesn’t move.

  “No shit it’s not safe, I’m here to get you out, now come on.” He grabs onto your arm to get you to follow him, only to hear you yelp in pain and pull your arm out of his grasp.

  “Sorry, did I hurt you-...” He trails off when he realizes why you reacted like that. It felt like time slowed, the world faded as his eyes locked onto the deep bite wound on your arm that you were trying to hide. 

  Only then did he realize how pale you were, the veins that made themselves so clear under your skin. He remembered that look so well, the look that coved Ashley and himself when they were infected with Las Plagas. 

You were bitten, and due to turn at any moment.

  Now he knew why you were so pushy to get him to leave.

  And everything around Leon fell apart. The sounds of undead faded and he felt sick. Everything he had been through felt like it was worth nothing, not because of the current outbreak, but because it affected you. You were bitten and now and nothing else mattered anymore. 

  “-eon! Leon!” He snapped back to reality, hearing you call his name and a loud crack echo through the house. A Zombie had wandered in and you were dealing with it as Leon spaced out.

  He turned and watched as it fell to the ground, pieces of it’s skull and brains falling to the ground and clinging to your bat from where you’d hit it’s head.

  “You have to go, I’m going to turn, Leon.” You plead, your eyes locked onto his.

  The male finally brings himself to speak. “No, I’m going to get out of this city and you’re coming with me, infected or not. And we’re going to get you a cure.” Leon states, and you know with how he said it, there’s no arguing with him.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #resident evil #resident evil x reader #re leon #re leon x reader #re x reader #leon s kennedy #x reader

[mayullla]

Title: The unknown deal

[ - Cottage (Fem!reader) + Rose (Yandere) + Gaara (Naruto) + Ice cream sandwiches (Arranged marriage au) - ] - Anon's ask

Summary: You thought that he thought of you as nothing more than a friend when in reality he was the one who asked for your hand in marriage. And he would not let you go so easily.

Additional warnings/tags: Nobility au, (technically) forced marriage, choking and violence used again reader, you know those villain manhwas? it is something like that, a bit ooc *sweats*

[ - Fairytale Picnic Event - closed - ]

It was decided by the king, that you were to wed one of the most dangerous princes in the kingdom. You tried your best to keep your bile in, as people started murmuring behind your back, most people pitying you while others delighted to find something to gossip about. "A pity" they said. "She will die soon, caught in the hands of a demon." you heard them say.

"Her head would be rolling," they said.

You could only wish that they were joking, exaggerating if not. Yet you knew who the 2nd prince was, a man who killed many on the battlefield killing drenched in blood not only by his enemies but also his own. He was a blood-crazed maniac who didn't care about others except for the delight in a world filled with blood.

That was the man you have become engaged to.

You felt faint. You watch one of your parents fall to the floor quickly supported by the servants and their partner. You didn't know what to do except bow unable to refuse the king's command.

You glance at the 2nd prince and flinched when your eyes connected. His face was devoid of any emotion except annoyance and impatience you wondered how long you will survive.

The king really was cruel.... when in his private office with your parents right beside you, your father tried to argue with the king that this was so sudden! Yet the ruler of the nation only pushed the problem away stating that things would work out in the end but of course, it isn't that simple that you too also need to put effort into it as well. "A marriage isn't only the work from one side and it would break my heart if you don't even try no?"

You didn't see a benevolent ruler who was worried for his 2nd son instead greed was in his eyes.

The first time you two were forced to meet it was in the guest room of the castle. Where you were forced to wait for hours patiently for the prince to come. Even when he did you wondered if it was better to wait even more hours than walk on eggshells as you tried and tried to make a conversation with him fearing at one point you might offend him and he would cut your head off. It didn't help how suffocating his stare was but you managed.... you managed.

"Is the tea to your liking?" "... hmmm.."

"What are your hobbies?" "... nothing in particular."

You somehow managed to survive through a few more realizing that rather than talking it would be much preferred if you just find peace in his silence and his stare. Sip your tea and when the teapot runs out then head out.

You soon started to fall for that routine thinking that this was what Gaara wanted. But maybe you were wrong because for the first time after a month Gaara was the one waiting for you and greeting you.

"Hello... you-... you are here.."

Even with his serious face, you could hear the hesitance in his voice, unsure if what he was doing was correct. It was during that visit you wondered if he was scary... if the rumors were true.

It wasn't long since you started talking more often to Gaara when he awkwardly asked you for your favorite foods and colors while you patiently waited for his answers. Maybe it was then you started to have ideas. Because you realize Gaara was actually kind, that you thought that he was misjudged. That if they could just see that he wasn't what they think he was his life could change for the better and the rumors would be gone.

He was trying you can see that, and from there you opened your heart a little by little.

It was your mission from then on and when you told him about it... surprisingly when you thought he would revert back to a scary face he didn't instead almost meekly followed you. He did what you said and when you told him to do. And slowly very very slowly things started to change.

Sure there were maids and servants scared to go near the prince but people started to trust him a little more. What also helped was when he befriends a blonde prince from another nation and helped remove the bad blood between them. Instead of fear, there was respect in the eyes of the nobles. You were happy even if Gaara looked at you with a bit of confusion in his eyes, you could see the small tilt in his lips as he looked at you.

So it soon became a shock when you heard that Gaara had to leave for war, a nation right beside Suna had demanded a war that Gaara as the prince had to attend. He had left for many wars and battles in the past, and you didn't care back them yet now you cannot help but worry for him when he gently smiled at you and turned his back.

He promised he would return.

And he did, with a victory and the cheers of the people.

You were so happy for Garra, when he had returned with victory many cheered his name and threw flowers and confetti at the young man. They have won the war, and everything was okay. He came back alive.

You thought that this was the end, you thought that you have made your peace, you have fulfilled the trade that you made in your head. he didn't want to marry you after all no? It was the kind decision, not his and you wanted to respect that.

When you readied the divorce papers you headed to the office of a certain somebody.

"What is this?" The shock and anger in his tone weren't what you were excepting from him. When you thought that he didn't love you and wanted to leave this relationship as much as you did. You were friends not lovers in the end... or so you thought when you flinched in surprise as the paper you prepared was torn into pieces. What..?

"I did all this just for you and when it is all done you would dare throw me away like this?" You took a step back, the table under Gaara creaked at the pressure under his hand as he glared at you. The pressure was heavy, hard to break, taking a step back again he didn't let you.

Instead, he was right in front of you holding your hand so tightly you felt like it was about to break. He was staring at you like a predator ready to rip you apart.

"Gaara!" You screamed his name trying to get him to calm down. There must have been some- some kind of mistake!! Yet he would not hear it walked towards you.

His hands were on your neck as he looked at your face. Anger resentment and jealousy are obvious in his eyes. "Did you find another man, that now you want to leave me?" "N-no!" "Then what is it!"

You forgot how it was to fear the man in front of you, how in the past he was once cruel and frightening. You forgot his sharp eyes as you were nothing more than a small animal compared to a monster. You forgot everything and now it came back and slapped you on the face.

“Try to leave me but you won't. Not if I could help it.” His words scared you as you tried to pull his hands away from yourself. The smirk on his face as he leaned in to kiss you on the forehead. "Did you know, I and the king had made a deal a long time ago. That if I killed all his enemies he will give you to me."

“You are mine, nobody could take you away from me. You cannot run away from me because you belonged to me.”

#naruto #yandere naruto #naruto x reader #naruto x you #yandere gaara x reader #yandere gaara #gaara x you #gaara x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagine #yandere x you #yandere male #tw yandere #gaara fanfic #gaara imagine #naruto imagines #naruto scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere imagines

[fordo-wifey]

A Soldier's Heart

Rating: Explicit- 18 +, Minors Don't Interact

Link to Full Story->AO3 Link

Summary: A soldier's duty is to protect those they love, and Sev was no different when it came to his new family which was steadily growing as years passed. Lingering thoughts of his brothers often cause him to grow quiet, but when the Empire arrives on the planet, he calls home, he is met with the reality of the new galaxy.

tags: Slice of Life, Post-Star Wars: The Clone Wars, Children, Married Couple, Married Life, Animal Death, Smut, Pregnancy, Kissing, Sev has ptsd, Weapons, Slight OOC, Harm to Animals, Romance

The faint sound of rushing water fills the forest while the feathered animals that hid among the trees chirp and call out, almost covering the sound of the water with their song. A young boy who was given the name of Walon—named after his father's trainer—follows the trail left behind by a large animal that they had been tracking since the early morning hours of the previous day. Walon bends down, his golden brown eyes that he shared with his father, staring at the mess of tracks, as it appeared that countless animals had passed through. Including the dar’ala creature they had been following up until now, where Walon frowns as he turns to his father who had gestured with his head for his son to try and figure out the situation himself. As Walon turns back to the mess of prints, he’s father couldn’t help but remember when his father figure trained him in the same manner; even if he was a bit softer than the namesake.

Sev watches as his son seems lost as he tries far too hard to find an animal that they had lost in this time. Everything in his body told him to help his son, though he fought against those thoughts until his son turned back to him. Walon’s eyes were filled with shame, as he turned away scoffing at the mess of tracks that led everywhere. Folding his arms as his rifle hangs off his shoulder, frowning some more as the young boy stands when he spots something in the mess of tracks. A small smile grows on his lips, as he finds the tracks he was looking for, or so he hoped.

“Buir!” Walon nearly shouts, causing him to cover his mouth as he speaks [father]. “I found them, look!” He points.

Sev, a man who had grown out his facial hair, but kept the standard military hair cut approached the mess with his own golden eyes that seemed to light up at the sight. “Good job, now let's get going before it has too much space.”

“Right, follow me,” Walon says with a more cheerful tone than the past rotation or so. “I can’t wait to show buir!” [mother]

“Yes, she would be proud of you.”

Walon smiles, showing off his missing tooth that had fallen out a week earlier as they carefully move around the tracks before moving forward. The pair was silent as they limited their conversations to ‘be careful.’ and ‘look how cool,’ when coming across a small stream that was filled with rocks.

As they carefully move across the stream and into the forest, Walon stumbles on the roots of the trees that appeared much larger than the ones they walked through earlier. Sev catches his son as he falls for the tenth time by the collar of his jacket. Pulling him back onto his feet, he places a finger to his lips, before pointing to the opening where the dar’ala creature stood. The pair watch as the animal eats the tall grass as it moves across the open field, where it stops at the edge of the small patch of grass. It’s back to them as it continues to eat the grass that was at the edge of the field.

Covering his son's mouth, Walon stares in awe. “We have to be quiet from this point on, or else we will lose this meal,” Sev says as he scans the forest for a place to hide, finding a fallen log that was only partly covered by debris from the trees around it. “Go to that fallen tree and I’ll be right behind you.” Walon nodded, doing as he was told without a word.

Carefully Walon hurried to the fallen tree, trying to watch his step until he reached the log that was surrounded by tall grass and fallen branches. Slipping off the rifle that hangs off his shoulder, resting the barrel of the blaster on the log as Sev arrives by his side. Patting Walon’s shoulder, before taking a long breath as they watch the animal before them. Walon’s eyes move from his father to the animal as his heart races. Another pat on the shoulder as Sev senses his son’s uneasiness, and he takes a deep breath before he turns his attention to his son.

“Take hold of your rifle and get ready to shoot it,” He starts, before looking back at the creature. “Calm your breathing, holding your breath for a few seconds can help steady your aim,” Sev says as he watches both his son and the dar’ala creature that was in front of them. “Don’t wait too long, you’ll only get one chance at this.” He finishes as waits for his son to fire the rifle.

The Dar’ala stood on its back legs as it ate from the low-hanging branches of the trees that surrounded them, before returning to all fours. Its fur was solid greenish-brown with dots of white, and to an untrained eye, those small details could hide them from most hunters. As the animal stood, its perky ears moving as it listened to everything around it, allowing Walon to take his shot. The sound of the blaster fills his ears, as the muffled cries of the creature follow soon after as it falls to the ground in a cry. Walon curses under his breath, as his father rubs his full head of hair, earning a small smirk that fades as his father stands.

“It didn’t kill it but still a great shot for your first hunt, Walon, not bad at all.”

Walon nodded as he stood beside his father, watching as the old man headed for the creature that he had wounded, gesturing for his son to join him.

“Come on, before the predators pick up the scent.”

“O-oh right…”

The pair approach the dying animal, its whines grow louder and louder as they move closer, Walon is uneasy but swallows his fear as he now stares at the creature that is dying. Sev pulled out his knife that was strapped to his upper leg, handing it to his son. He was hesitant to take it, but without thinking his hand grabbed it from his father. The grip on the knife was rubbery but effective, the blade was long and sharp. Sev stepped aside, as his son stood above the animal's head, both of his hands grabbed the handle of the knife before looking at his father who gestured for him to do it and with that Walon thrusts the knife into the creature's skull, killing it instantly.

“I’ll get the speeder from camp, and then we can head back home,” Sev states as he pats his son’s head, forcing a weak smirk from the boy who was fighting back the tears that threatened to fall. “It’ll be alright, the first kill feelings happen, doesn’t make you weak just means you're human.”

Walon nodded at his father's words, choosing not to say a word other than a simple ‘okay,’ that barely left his lips as Sev kneed to his son's level. Hugging him before Walon speaks openly. “Will it go to the afterlife like our people do?” At first, Sev was lost for words, it wasn’t the first time that Walon had asked something like that.

“I am sure, it would be resting in the afterlife along with its ancestors as well,” Sev gave a half smile at his eldest son who wiped away his tears. “Now watch its body while I go and bring the speeder and we can load the creature onto it, and we can bring everything home, alright?” Walon nods, allowing Sev to smile before hugging his son one last time before leaving.

Walon stood with his arms crossed, frowning as he stared off in the direction his father had headed. The minutes felt like hours as he uncrossed his arms and turned on the heel of his boots. Murmuring in Mando’a, he kicked up dirt in front of the stub that he had decided to sit on, grabbing a stick that was within reach. Drawing several stick figures as he waited for his father to return from their small camp the speeder was at, along with the attachment that would help them carry the animal back home. After another couple of minutes, Walon huffed as he stood throwing the stick into the woods, where a bush shook and rustled slightly.

Quickly grabbing the rifle that was on his shoulder, pointing it at the bush as his finger hovered over the trigger. The rustling continued for a few more moments before what looked to be a small ugly animal with six legs and an odor that the young boy couldn’t place but caused him to cover his mouth. Its skin was folded, and its fur was a grayish gold as if the thing's body hadn’t decided what color it wanted to be. But the more Walon stared at the animal that whined as if it was scarred, the more he wanted to bring it home. Kneeling in front of it, Walon reached out with his right hand, the only hand that wasn’t gloved.

“It’s okay,” Walon states as the small unknown animal sniffs the boy's hand. “it’s going to be okay, ad'ika.” The boy smiles as the small animal moves closer to him before ultimately crawling into his lap [little one]. “I think I’ll name you Ranah, what do you think about that, huh?” The small animal let out a yawn before it settles in the boy's arms.

Tag list: @daisies-daydreams @clonethirstingisreal @skellymom @n0vqni @euphoriacafe

#original character #star wars #original concept #clone commando sev #romance #ptsd #pregnancy #children #smut