#at the heart of him he's still just that lonely young boy who always had to earn people's attention

[chronicowboy]

we as a collective do Not talk about this line delivery nearly enough and for good fucking reason, i'll kill bradley james for this one line alone. he's just a little boy :'((

#sami rambles #like. he's still the same little kid who didn't really know what it was to be looked after/cared for/doted on #at the heart of him he's still just that lonely young boy who always had to earn people's attention #or just take whatever he got for the simple fact of being the king's son :/ #even after so long he's still not used to merlin's love. and now. now he can't see what he's ever done to deserve it #seeing everything all at once and he just. he needs answers before he goes. #he's just a little boy asking 'why' to prolong his bedtime a few moments more #oh fuck. just caused irreparable damage to myself with that last one ahaha #merlin #bbc merlin #arthur pendragon #merthur #bradley james

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — GOJO x FEM READER

Gojo Satoru likes his girls clingy. 

wc — 1k

tags — confident reader 

He lets you loop your arms around his neck and whine for kisses, gifts, everything he has. With an unlimited budget and the deep pockets of a man in love, he spoils you rotten. 

Here’s the problem with being the strongest: you will always be the strongest. From the day he was born, there was no competition. Gojo didn’t even have to begin to outstrip his peers. He was simply born better than them. 

But eventually, even that level of talent grew exponentially until he went from being simply unbeatable to untouchable. His growth was incomparable, leaving him a lonely god on his own plane of existence. 

That’s why he needs you: sweet and soft and demanding. Everyone else had it all wrong. 

The Gojo clan spoiled their young head rotten. Knowing that he would bear the burden of the world from the moment he was born and those blue eyes opened, his mother demanded her child grow up in peace. Nothing was asked of him, no demands, no pleas for help. 

The outside world relied on Gojo as their saviour, but within the Gojo compound, he was just a spoiled little boy whose mother adored him. 

The way he acts within the walls of the Gojo stronghold is a carefully kept secret. He’s as soft as a newborn kitten, hair carefully washed by his childhood nurses and left out to sun in a patch of light. He’s sleepy and warm and mellow, hardly the strongest anymore. Without knowing any of this, you somehow bring that back out in him years later. 

An auxiliary manager in training, you first met him when you were tagging along with Ijichi on one of Gojo’s missions. Ijichi was flustered, even more so than usual, at the thought of having to care for a mentee when he could hardly take care of himself.

It only made matters worse that your first mission would be with Gojo. His heart sank into the pit of his stomach, despairing at how he would inevitably fail to shield you from his barbed comments and wicked teasing. 

In the end, he needn’t have worried. The two of you turn the tables on him. 

Poor Ijichi. 

It started off as a way to bully him more, because Gojo could be such a little tyrant. 

“Come on, Ijichi. Let her tag along, what’s the harm!” 

“You heard him,” you had announced self-importantly, and thrown yourself promptly into the passenger seat. 

That was usually Gojo’s seat, but he was willing to give it up for some amusement. 

You hadn’t been given permission to go on this mission, but you had insisted. First you wheedled, then you whined, finally you outright demanded. You wanted see the powerful Satoru Gojo in action. 

He leans forward, arms draped over the back of your seat. He pokes your cheek playfully as he says, “Oh, are you a fan?” 

“As if!” You scoff. “I don’t care about you, I care about your cursed technique.” 

Gojo takes your bluntness in stride. Maybe it’s the way your eyes sparkle when you talk about his technique (he caught you demanding details on Hollow Purple from Ijichi once) or maybe it’s the way your cheeks puff out when you pout. He knows you’re lying. Part of your assignment to Ijichi is because you begged Masamichi to be placed where you could watch Gojo work. 

It’s easy work for him. The curse is vaporized in seconds. He makes it look so weak you wonder why they even bothered with it at all until you remember that this curse had been failed to be exorcised by a first grade sorcerer who had come back licking his wounds. It’s not that it’s weak, it’s that he’s too strong. 

“Anyone up for lunch? My treat,” Gojo says, still immaculate as ever. 

Ijichi, who had been standing so close he got covered in some strange muck, not even from the curse but from Hollow Purple cutting through the mud, looks at him suspiciously. Gojo is never this nice. 

You have no such reservations. Ijichi yelps and protests when Gojo brings you to a luxurious restaurant in the heart of Tokyo without a reservation, relying on the strength of his name alone. He doesn’t even eat much, content to watch you order whatever you like on his dime. It amuses him, the way you’re so confident about it, as if you know he won’t refuse you. 

He won’t. 

By the time you order dessert - for you and Gojo, telling him he’ll like whatever you choose for him - he can’t bear the burning question that’s been lurking in the back of his mind anymore. 

“Smoke break!” He demands cheerfully. 

“You don’t even smoke!” Ijichi says, terrified, as if Gojo is some high school bully dragging him out under another pretense to shake him down for cash. He might, just for fun. 

You smile and wave them off. You wouldn’t let Gojo do that seriously, but Ijichi is just so fun to tease. You’ll come rescue him later if it looks like he’s really miserable. 

“Alright, spill the beans,” Gojo says, leaning against the doorframe and blockading Ijichi from going back inside. “What’s her deal?” 

Ijichi just stares at him slack jawed, open mouthed, terrified, clearly still waiting for some kind of attack. 

“Oh, come on! I’m not that mean to you, am I?” Even Gojo can’t resist a twitchy smile at what he’s saying. “Who is she? Where’s she from?” 

Ijichi blinks. “She’s just some girl. Masamichi hired her.” 

“She’s a right little princess,” Gojo murmured. “What, is she the daughter of a clan head or something? Maybe even the Three Clans?” 

Ijichi sighs. “You would think so with that attitude, but she just comes from a normal non-sorcerer family.” 

“Her?” Gojo asks disbelievingly. “A girl like that? Impossible.” 

“It’s true,” Ijichi says. “I don’t even know where Masamichi picked her up.” 

Gojo returns to his seat with a overly sweet parfait waiting for him. You’re right, he does like it. Or maybe he likes it because you’re finally giving him your full attention, waiting with rapt delight to see if he’ll give it full stars. 

He thinks he might take you out to dinner more, if it gets you to look at him like that. You might not be a clan princess yet, but he can’t wait to make you one.

#sera writes #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojou x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo fluff #gojou fluff

[c-nstantine]

sense of normalcy

description: Jason & Black!Batmom in four stages of his life

word count: 1.2k

warnings: angst, death, mommy issues, grieving, talks about Jason's death a lot

Jason: Age 12

Bruce had warned Alfred that there would be a guest joining him and of course, Alfred told Y/N. She was more than excited to have someone visiting the manor. It had been lonely since Dick struck out on his own. He visited but it wasn't the same as having a kid running around the manor. 

"Who might you be?" Y/N said approaching the boy who Bruce helped out of the Batmobile. He was rather lean for his height but his eyes looked like they sparkled as if the world never did him wrong. Y/N felt a pang in her heart and she looked towards Bruce who avoided her gaze.

"Jason Todd. You're on TV." He recognized the woman from the TVs that were on display in the stores that he passed as he walked down the street. Alfred had rushed back upstairs to fix the young boy something to eat.

"Sometimes, how would you like to stay with Bruce and me?" She had already decided that he would stay. She couldn't let the boy go back to whatever back alley Bruce found him on. 

"I'd love to," The boy's eyes twinkled once more as he smiled at Y/N.

Jason: Age 16

Jason was a good kid. He promised Y/N that he would be a good kid. He got good grades, and he excelled at English. Entering his teenage years, he only grew closer and more protective of Y/N but Y/N still saw him as the lean little boy who tried to steal the hubcaps off of the Batmobile. 

"Why is my son here?" Y/N asked, not even bothering to sit in the principal's chair. Her son had not a scratch on his face but he did have a bruised knuckle that definitely wasn't from patrol.

"He got into a fight, Mrs. Wayne," The principal of Gotham Academy said a bit smugly. Jason hated it here. He loved the teachers and learning but the kids were assholes. Not all of them, but the ones who thought he didn't belong because he wasn't born to the money. Kids could be cruel.

"Jason?" Y/N tilted her head towards her son, softening her gaze.

"He was making fun of me for being adopted and my accent," Jason spoke differently than the preppy kids of Gotham Academy but Y/N always encouraged him to speak how he wanted. His words were a part of him and he shouldn't have to change it for anyone.

"So my son was being bullied and he defended himself. Does that sound good to you, Principal Paulette?" Y/N gave the fakest smile known to the man while brushing faux loc behind her ear. 

"It sounds perfect, Mrs. Wayne," Principal Paulette simply groaned. 

"C'mon, Jason. We're getting ice cream." She smiled and waved for her son to follow her out of the office.

-

"Bruce is gonna be upset you're rewarding me," Jason said mixing his bowl of scooped chocolate chip ice cream together until it became the consistency of soft serve. He couldn't meet her eye yet. He felt like he had disappointed her and that maybe she regretted keeping him. What he didn't know is that he could never do anything that would make her not love him.

"You know I'll always love you, right? No matter what those kids say," Y/N said reaching over the table to ruffle his hair. He styled every morning with an absurd amount of gel but it didn't look like him.

"I know, ma, I know," He heard the words and wanted to believe them but he already decided that he'd leave and find his real mother. In his mind, she wouldn't miss him anyway, right?

"Good 'cause you my baby boy," She said with a bright smile.

-

He was in pain and cold. His mind was drifting in and out of consciousness. The faint beeping of the bombs was heard in the background and tears fell from his eyes as he realized this was his end. This was it. He was gonna meet the great big man in the sky and he didn't get to say goodbye to Y/N. He could die with disappointing Bruce but Y/N. Y/N had never seen him as more than a boy because that's what he was. He was just a child who didn't get to say goodbye to his mom. 

Jason: Deceased

Y/N was pacing a hole in the carpet. She stood in the study of Wayne Manor waiting here something, anything, back from Bruce. He hadn't contacted her since he left to find Jason and that was days ago.

"You said he'd come back," She said as Bruce walked through the grandfather clock entrance of the study. She noticed there was no Jason, she could hear his laughter like he normally did when he returned from a night out.

"Y/N," Bruce could see his wife about cry right in front of them. She tried to blink away tears so that they wouldn't fall down her brown cheeks. He could tell she hadn't been sleeping with Jason missing.

"You went to go get him. Where is he?" Y/N asked again with a bit more authority. 

"Honey, sit down. Alfred, bring her some tea," Bruce was trying to put the words together but Y/N simply fell apart on the couch. 

"No, don't tell me that, "She knew exactly what that meant, "He was just a baby," She whispered as Bruce held her in his arms. 

Jason: Age 22

"Ma?" Jason called for her as she was putting Martha and Alfred down for a nap. Y/N walked out of the nursery and closed the door behind her. His mom had aged a little since she took him home but not too much. Sure she had grey hairs mixed into her silk press but she was still the exact same woman who loved him at first sight.

"Yeah, Jason," She looked up at her son with a bright smile. Jason now towered her but he'd always be her baby boy. 

"I'm sorry," Jason said quickly. He had been holding it in since he died. He never told anyone but in the last moments before his death, he regretted not telling Y/N he loved her more and how much he'd miss her.

"What are you sorry for?" Y/N asked tilting her head slightly. 

"I'm sorry for leaving that night. I'm sorry for hurting you. I never wanted to hurt you," Jason's voice cracked as he moved to hug his mom. He didn't know how much pain one decision could cause.

"Oh, baby," She said rubbing his back. She felt tears coming to her eyes as she felt his on her cheek. 

"I'm sorry, ma, I'm so sorry," He muttered over and over again. His face had flushed red against her brown skin. Bruce had seen the moment but decided it was best for him not to interfere but he was happy to see Jason working through his emotions.

"You're here now and that's all I've ever wanted, okay? How about some ice cream?" Y/N said pulling away gently. Ice cream was one of her biggest pregnancy cravings so now they have a lifetime of Bluebell in their deep freezer.

"Yeah, ma," Jason spoke with a small smile. He was finally back to a sense of normalcy. 

#x black!reader #black!reader #x black reader #black reader #bruce wayne x black!reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #black!batmom #jason todd #jason todd angst #jason todd x reader #jason todd x batmom

[ego-meliorem-esse]

Stormy Eyes

The 7-year-old looking boy with boundless energy, stood atop the hill, looking down at the small church where a somber funeral was taking place. In his small hand, Alfred clutched a single flower, a blue daisy. The daisy, a simple tribute to his best friend, Davie. Alfred had returned from London with excitement, eager to share his discoveries and stories, only to discover the devastating news of Davie's passing. His young heart ached, and the weight of grief hung heavily upon him.

Throughout his short life, Alfred had always been a whirlwind of activity, his mind racing from one thought to another, his body in constant motion. His father, Arthur, had observed these tendencies with a watchful eye, understanding that his son's boundless enthusiasm often came with moments of restlessness and broken vases.

As Arthur approached his young son, he saw the boy's restless fidgeting, his hands twisting the flower stem, and his gaze darting in all directions. He knew with how much enthusiasm and excitement Alfred carried and took care of the flower on his long journey to Boston. So, having Alfred bend and break the stem was a certain cause for concern. He recognized his boys fidgeting and what it stood for. An understanding that had developed over years of being Alfred's father and mentor.

"Alfred," Arthur said sternly, yet without a hint of annoyance. His voice carrying the weight of centuries of history and responsibility. Arthur looked down from the hill to the quaint church where a crowd of silhouettes gathered, and with an almost inaudible "Ah." understood the weight of the situation. He looked down at his son, his eyes softened with concern. "I'm sorry lad."

Alfred's response was not in words but in frantic fidgeting. His young mind was trapped in a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, rendering him staring down at the destroyed flower stem he seemed to cherish only a few hours before.

Seeing his son's distress, Arthur's concern deepened. He slowly kneeled down, reached out and gently held Alfred's face in his hands, physically anchoring the restless child and forcing their eyes to meet.

"Alfred," Arthur said firmly once again, his voice breaking through the chaos in Alfred's mind. "Focus, my son. You must."

Alfred's tear-filled eyes finally met his father's, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. Arthur could see his son's eyes trying to suppress more tears from welling up. The effort was unsuccessful, because as soon as Alfred took a breath, all the supressed tears fell all at once. Through all that his boy didn't make a single sound.

Arthur's words continued, his voice carrying the weight of wistom obtained by blood and violence. "My boy, your life will be a lonely but fulfilling one. You will meet many people, nations, enemies and friends along the way. Each one will leave a mark on your heart, just as your friend here did." Arthur didn't dare look away at the funeral for the friend he just mentioned in fear of loosing Alfred to his own mind once again.

Arthur's voice almost quivered as he spoke of Alfred's lost friend. "Remember them, Alfred. Remember them all, and carry their memories with you. Your existence, my dear boy, is both a solitary journey and a shared one. You are not alone in this world of nations."

He paused, his grip on Alfred's face unwavering. "Your restless spirit is a part of who you are, Alfred, and it's a gift. Use it to carry the torch for those who have gone before us and for those who will come after. You have the strength within you to focus when it truly matters. Because, my son, when you do, miracles will happen."

He released his son and instead of going back to fidget with the plant, Alfred stood still and kept looking at his father.

As the funeral procession continued below, father and son remained standing on that grassy hill. Arthur's words seemed to echo back and forth in the young boys mind, his ocean eyes finally resembling calm waters. In that moment Arthur was reminded of stormy nights at sea and the calm morning that followed.

He was always good at sailing through the storm.

#hetalia #hws england #hws america #meli speaks #myart #my art #historical hetalia #i hate hate hate the anatomy here pls dont focus on that im begging #will i ever let these two live a non dramatic life #no. #my wriring #meli writes #hetalia fanfiction #alfred f jones #arthur kirkland

[spacedace]

Snippet/prolog thing from a DP x DC fic that lives almost entirely inside my head outside of this & a few other bits.

Please feel free to take this as an overly long prompt haha

If anyone wants context to this let me know and I'll be happy to info dump at you lol

-

The kid had been eleven the first time John Constantine met her.

A little ghost girl, too small for the crowns and dominions that were rightfully hers, wandering the world alone and unattended because to stay in one place would drive her mad - or worse. He didn’t think himself as having a particularly soft heart, but there was something about little Stella Phantom that grew on him - a bit like a mold, he liked to explain. Maybe it was the way she swore like a sailor and kicked a demon in the low hangers with a feral grin the first time he met her. Maybe it was just how lonely she looked, small and slight in the large world she was so obsessed with exploring.

She had a family. A Grave of her own that worried about her, but who couldn’t follow her on her constant travels no matter how much they wanted to. Proof that being some of the most powerful beings in existence wasn’t enough to prepare you for parenthood.

Somewhere along the lines she started following John around. Interested in what he was doing, where he was going, who he worked with. It hadn’t taken long to get her folded into JL Dark. Zantanna had blanched when he’d shown up with little Elle, pulling in the big wigs from JL Light to argue about the ethics of involving a child in their work. As if Supes and the Bat had legs to stand on with their own brood so often in the thick of danger. Elle was safer under his watch than she’d be under the loose oversight the Titans had or whatever fresh hell was going on with Young Justice but hell if anyone would listen to him on that front.

He lost the war when she met Superboy Jr. and Robin V.

She’d adored them from the start, delighted at having children her own age around to spend time with. They formed a little team, working together here and there, then more often as they got older. She still worked mostly with JL Dark, but she was growing up. Spreading her wings a bit.

Elle was seventeen when the Bonds first formed. The spider-silk thin threads finally winding themselves into the heavy binds that spilled out of her Core and reached out for anchoring in the boys. It was sickeningly sweet, in the way puppy love always was. She was too young for Core Bonds like that to settle, of course, in the way children were always too young when they fell in love the first time. It was normal though. Ghost children the Realms over made Bonds only for them to fade or change as they grew, almost never anchoring to anyone til they were full grown.

She’d blushed as red as Marvel’s suit when she realized John could see them, stuttering and embarrassed. He’d teased her about it for a long time, about how much she’d grown up, how much trouble she was going to cause, how he was going to have to fight the big bad Bat and his pet boy scout when she inevitably dishonored their poor, innocent sons. It was entertaining, endearing.

He waited for the Bonds to fade or shift. Weeks. Months. Years. As she turned nineteen, he started to wonder if they would stick around. If in another few years they might strengthen, begin the slow process of anchoring.

She was twenty-one when her boys - calling themselves Flamebird and Phoenix now - started dating each other.

The Bonds remained, steady and solid and painfully unanchored.

John stopped teasing her about them.

They hadn’t changed to accommodate platonic bonds, nor had they faded any. Their tendency to tangle around her like snare was another point of concern. Core Bonds weren’t meant to cause difficulty for the ghost they were born from, and they certainly weren’t meant to wrap around the ghost’s limbs and body in painful loops like that. They weren’t supposed to hurt.

When she was twenty three he started suggesting it might be time for intervention. The irony that he of all people would be trying to get someone to take steps to cut out the thing harming them was not lost on him. Nor was the way the fond feelings he had for the girl had skewed decisively paternal over the years in a way that his younger self would have mocked him for endlessly.

He felt better about broaching the subject knowing that her Grave had been suggesting the same thing. That he wasn’t overstepping the bounds of whatever odd partnership they’d developed over the years. John was, he had very reluctantly come to accept, the girl’s mentor if nothing else. His job was to teach her and guide her, not be her parent.

No matter what his old, battered heart might try and suggest.

Even still, he couldn’t help but be concerned.

She was twenty-five when they got temporarily launched into that broken, bleak world. When they met the Elle and Flamebird and Phoenix of that horrible dimension.

The three alternates’ bonds were anchored completely, tying the triad together in threads of silver and green. Not even Other-Elle’s complete, sickening deterioration into something cannibalistic and feral had been enough to break them. He can’t imagine how much it must have hurt to see that, for his girl to glimpse a world where something she’d longed for for so long happened, only for it to seemingly be at the expense of reality itself.

He helped cover for her, after their two groups had been mixed up and separated for the night - or what might be called night in a world that no longer had any light to make those kinds of distinctions in time. When she came back with the Flamebird and Phoenix of that world, after their little separation from the larger group he kept her two boys misdirected. Distracted Nightwing and Zantanna so they didn’t go asking too many questions he knew Elle wouldn’t want answered. The Bat John was helpless to do much about, but thankfully the big brooder seemed too intent on the desolate, lightless world itself to notice the way Elle’s gaze was going distant, bittersweet at the edges.

He didn’t know what, exactly had happened in the hours she was gone. He could guess, from the way the Other-Phoenix and Other-Flamebird looked at her, the way she avoided her boys. Loneliness and desperation made for an easy slide into bad decisions. John might just have to admit that Zantanna had been correct, all the times she’d said he was a bad influence on the girl. Not that there was any surprise there.

Elle’s Bonds were even more of a knotted mess than before. Offered something so close to anchoring only to find no purchase. They twisted about her throat like a noose now, ready to strangle the life out of her one day.

He signed off on her leave of absence when they finally made it back to their home dimension.

Anyone else would want details to write down. Would want to know the specifics of why and for how long and a whole mess of other details she either wouldn’t or couldn’t answer. He’d get his ass roasted over the fire for the mess the paperwork was in, but that was fine. He’d endured far worse for far less important reasons.

Personal leave, he’d written.

Duration of leave: indefinite.

Reason for leave: None of your fucking business, Bats.

They shared a cigarette on one of the high catwalks in the Watchtower watching dawn break on the world below. Grateful to see the sun and stars again after those two days in utter blackness. They didn’t talk about her Bonds. About what happened. About how she hadn’t talked to her Boys since coming back. Just stood and smoked. He pretended not to notice her tears. She pretended not to notice his. Neither of them had ever been any good at goodbyes.

When the time came she bumped his shoulder in thanks - for the cigarette, for the company, for the years of friendship and family - before turning and stepping through the bright purple door standing impossibly in the middle of the walkway.

He glimpsed the green of the Infinite Realms and the distant shape of her Lair beyond. A world of worlds, paradise to one that never stopped, always off to find something new, something never seen before. It was against all odds that she’d even stumbled upon this one in the first place. A small speck in the crushing infinite.

When the door closed it did so slowly, a painful whine and a soft, mournful click all that marked her leaving.

John watched it bleed out of existence, and wondered if he’d ever see her again.

Six months later, the stars started to disappear.

#dpxdc prompt #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #john constantine #dani phantom #danielle phantom #elle phantom #jon kent #jon el kent #damian wayne #damijon #one sided (?) Super Serious Chaos #for the record it's not actually one sided Damian & Jon are pining for Elle just as bad as she's pining for them #alternative universe versions of themselves went and complicated things further #bruce wayne #infinite realms world building #ghost cores #Constantine caught a case of Father Figure-itis (it's definitely batman's fault) #angst #there's so much back story and nonsense in this fic idea #there's a whole looming apocalypse thing and Elle trying to sacrifice herself #and Jon & Damian thinking something terrible happened between Elle & their AU selves to cause her to pull away from them #there's ghost core lore (ha that rhymed) #one of these days I'll actually write it all down #in the mean time enjoy a prompt

[strangeshoepatrolbandit]

Brother's best friend

Summary: You go to spend the summer at your grandparents, along with your family and the Wayne's. Will something rise between you and Damian?

Warnings: Reader is half kryptonian, meaning they can hear heartbeats.

Gender Neutral

Series Masterlist

~☆~

It was quiet. There was no sound of cars in a busy street, voices of pedestrians that became too much as they all overlapped, no musty smell of used up air. It was quiet, only the sound of the TV, animals outside, and the heartbeats of your loved ones could he heard.

Your grandparent's farm was your escape. It was where you could go when you wanted to get away from the city that you and your family lived in. Apparently, everyone agreed, because now you're spending the summer on the farm, along with your mother, father, and brothers.

Your mother was helping your grandmother clean up after breakfast. Your father was helping your grandfather with the animals, you and Jon were watching a cartoon, and Kon was still sleeping.

Despite your grandparents being two lonely farmers, more people were still going to be joining you. Everyone had decided that it would be nice to invite Bruce Wayne and his children to join in on your short vacation. You had barely gotten Jon to sleep the night he found out that they said yes, he was far too excited about what was to come. Eventually, your mother had to come in and scold him for still being up.

If you listened close enough, you could hear their plane, and if you listened even closer, you could hear their hearts and words. Which Jon had been doing the entire time he had been awake, anxiously waiting for his best friend and his family to arrive, your father and Kon doing the same. Was it a little weird that Clark, Kon, and Jon were all best friends with members of the Wayne family? Yeah, a little bit. But did you care? No.

Jon had been going on for years now about his best friend, Damian Wayne. Apparently, the two of them met due to being Robin and Superboy. Jon had told you about the many adventures the two of them had, the times they would hang out at Wayne Manor, and how much he adored Damian. You've heard similar stories about Bruce, and Tim aswell, your father and Kon sharing the same excitement as Jon over their best-friends.

Almost all of the Wayne family has heard about you, too, but not as much as Damian has. Jon is always talking about his older sibling, born just two years before himself, and a year after Damian. Jon is always talking about the things the two of you have done, what you like, any new changes you've made to your appearance. To some extent, Damian feels as if he already knows you. You also feel the same.

"I can't wait for you to meet him." Jon excitedly tells you, taking his eyes away from the small TV and looking at you. You turn to meet his gaze and offer a small smile, hoping it will get him to stop gushing about this family you've never met. Maybe you're excited about meeting a certain older brother, one that your family said came back from the dead. It's not that you don't want to meet them, it's just that you don't want to spend your summer with some strangers.

~☆~

It was about lunchtime when you could hear the plane getting closer to the farm, your family raced outside to greet their friends.

A grown man was the first to jump out of the plane, his hair wavy and black, eyes blue and skin tan. He had one of those Hollywood smiles that instantly got you plastered on a magazine. He ran up to your father and welcomed him into an embrace. He was far too young to be Bruce Wayne, but also too old to be Damian.

Another boy hopped out and jogged over to Kon. Obviously, that's Tim. His pale skin and shaggy black hair gave it away.

Who you assume was Bruce emerged next, the wrinkle between his eyebrows and his strong physique being a sign. You could hear your father whisper his name as he went up to hug the man.

An even younger boy walked out, instantly earning a yell from Jon. He looked almost identical to Bruce. Only his skin was tan, and his nose was stronger. His eyes were green, a strong contrast from the three blue-eyed men that he had traveled with. His hair was black and clean cut, styled upwards. He was gorgeous. His description could only mean that he was the one and only Damian.

Another man walked into the light. He was tall and muscular. His wavy hair was black with a stripe of white and out of his face. He was wearing sunglasses, blocking his eyes from your view. Even from the distance, you could see the scars that adorned the side of his face. Jason Todd.

You watched as your family exchanged their hellos, obviously excited about the entire situation. Just as you were about to turn and go back inside, you heard your father introducing your grandparents. That could only mean that you were next.

His arms gestured around your family before finally landing on you, "And that's, Y/N." He spoke.

The first man(whom you overheard the name of) started walking towards you, his flashy smile on display.

"Hi, I'm Dick!" He introduced himself, offering you a handshake. After you reciprocated the gesture, he put his arm over your shoulders, holding you to his side. His hand rose up to point at the other people he arrived with. "That's Bruce," he stated, pointing at the man next to your father. "That's Jason," His finger was now pointed at the man with the white streak in his hair, "Tim" was all he said as he gestured to the boy conversing with Kon. "And that's Damian." He said, pointing at the boy that was being bombarded with questions by Jon. To your surprise, he was staring right at you. His gaze was sharp and felt like he was seeing right through you.

Your eye contact was interrupted as your grandmother came rushing past you with a pitcher of tea and some cups.

~☆~

New series alert!!!

Update's will be slow.

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #damian al ghul #superboy #kon el superboy #superman #x reader #jon kent x reader #jonathan kent #lois lane #superman and lois #kon el #konner kent #kon kent #conner kent #conner luthor #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #jason todd x reader #tim drake #dick grayson x reader #bruce wayne x reader #tim drake x reader #batsiblings #batboys #batbros #batman #batfam x reader #batfamily x reader

[devourers-of-god]

Hello again! As I understand it, applications are still open aha... I hope I haven't tormented you (sorry, I'm just wildly delighted with your work, and there are too many ideas in my head)

In general... it seems to me that it is quite difficult for Sally to open up to people, despite the fact that he is a very kind boy. It seems to me that he may be shocked by excessive tactility and emotionality

So, what about an overly active f!reader who likes to hold hands with friends, and hugs at a meeting, and kisses on the cheeks (sorry, this is literally me, and at the same time all my friends are not particularly tactile, aha ...). I was thinking that the reader might like Sal... how do you think he would react? And yes, it can be either fan fiction or headcannons, whatever you want aha. I will read everything with pleasure!!!

HI!! thank you SO much for the compliments, you are the sweetest! You are SO right about Sal D: ANS ALSO you do not torment me !!!! the requests are slow these days and im sooo happy you're taking the time to ask me stuff !I will do a one shot for this lololsorry this took a while to write, I had exams, school and work :P BUTTT I got my drivers licence LOLLL okep thanks for your request!!! and if you ever have more ideas, it will be my pleasure to try and portray your ideas with my writing!

SAL X OVERLY AFFECTIONATE READER

Warnings: None, fluff ? u guys are not dating lololol

Type: Oneshot

Oneshot -

Everyone described you with few words; bubbly, a social butterfly and VERY affectionate. You were not shy to pour your heart out to someone when needed, but you also were the first one to help a friend in need.

You always thought that being this touchy and nice to people was just common manners, until you be friended Sal Fisher.

Sal Fisher was an interesting individual, his everyday life was affected by years of torment explained by his flashbacks. He wasted a lot of his youth because Sal was isolating himself, not talking to anyone, not even his father. Even though his ''beloved'' father wasn't trying to help him to begin with. Though, this caused the young boy to develop an awkwardness to someone's touch and Sally could not properly explain to someone how he felt, he couldn't quite put words on his true feelings. Being touched, brushed or even just the thought of all this, made Sal feel something he couldn't even express. Sal was hollow, basically a shell of a human.

You luckily moved to Nockfell, the infamous town that your family wanted to move in so bad. You and your family landed in the Addison's apartments, there you met the tall Larry Jonhson. It was easy to get along with this guy anyway, you found yourself very lucky that day because the metalhead introduced you to Sal Fisher. You two will eventually end up together, but you don't know that yet.

For you, it was love at first sight. You Immediately complimented the way Sal presented himself. Basically showering him with compliments, especially his mask and hair. It wasn't your fault that you're this friendly, its the usual y/n. Sal Fisher felt almost claustrophobic by your gestures, weirdly appreciated that. You were not aware but this boy is secretly craving compliments, being this lonely for this long had affected the poor boy.

As the weeks passed, you and the blue haired boy hung out often, which made you delighted. You two were eating lunch together while the others had an art project to complete. Mr. Fisher and you were discussing when suddenly Sal made you laugh, your reflexes got the best of you and pushed him gently. Sal smiled to himself as his face turned crimson. ''God you are so funny, you need to stop my cheeks are hurting!!'' You confessed as you chuckled lightly. ''Pretty sure my name is Sal ,y/n'' your crush responded. You punched his shoulder gently, just as a way of saying to shut it. You knew that Sal was not introduced properly to your love language, but luckily you asked his closest friends about all of this. They approved to you that the masked boy isn't disturbed by it. It motivated you to not hide your true self, since your upcoming boyfriend is fond of it.

In an instant, the bell rang. You got up quickly and held Sal's hand to make sure he's following. You didn't want to lose him in the crowded halls right? Or did you just want an excuse to hold his hand? Sal figured this out but never told you.

Arrived to his locker, you were so happy that day and your nature took over suddenly, you peeked a small kiss on the cheek of Sal's prosthetic. '' See ya Sal! Goodluck with your math test-'' You yelled out as you escaped. You were proud of yourself too, you really liked Sal and the only way to show it is with affection and physical touch. You could not believe you actually did that. The next class felt like it was the longest ever, the school system was seperating you from your future lover.

Meanwhile, Sal's train of thoughts was going faster than usual. He froze in place for a good 5 minutes with his face hotter than when he had the flu. He thought to himself that you might like him, but Sal reasoned himself after saying that you probably do that to everyone. He wasn't so special, he thought. Normally, affecting gestures are not welcome for Sal Fisher, but you stood out. He actually felt great in your embrace. Even though he's not quick enough to hug back sometimes, he melts every time.

''Man I know you like her, you don't even let us touch you dude.'' Larry said after Sal reported everything of today. Sal closed his locker door a bit louder than he should've.

''Fuck off Larry. She's just different I guess.'' Sal retorted, what's left of his face turned a tint of pink, ballet pink to be exact. Sal thought to himself that he was pleased that the school day finally ended, they could finally go home and play som- Sal's thoughts were cut off by you hugging Sal as a way of greeting. He felt his legs soften beneath him. Sal's heart skipped various beats. '' Hi Sal!! Oh hi Larry! What are you guys up to after school?'' You smiled wildly as you got closer to Sal, which made him shiver. Larry started to smirk in a more of an evil way ''Oh I'm actually busy tonight but I know that Sal wanted to hang out with you y/n'' Sal bumped into him ''accidentally''.

Your cheeks flushed as you looked away ''I would love to! My parents are picking me up today so- text me okay?'' You ended your sentence with a small wink directed to Sal. You quickly left to go in your guardian's car. Suddenly you didn't feel like walking like everyone else, you were so happy you skipped your way to the car. Sal's jaw was hanging since Larry opened his ''dumb mouth'' as Sal would say.

''Youre welcome my man!'' Larry chuckled.

'' Get lost.''

HELLO!! hope you liked it :) I don't know why, im less satisfied with this.. if there's anything you guys think I should add please feel free to share your thoughts with me!! Per usual, stay safe and MY REQUESTS ARE ALWAYS OPEN!!!! its currently almost 1 am lawd goodnight friends :) P-S: we're almost at 150 followers!!!!!! very exciting :DDDD thank you!!

#sallyface #sally face #todd morrison #larry johnson #sal fisher #travisphelps #sf #sally face hcs #sal fisher x y/n #sal fisher x reader #sal fisher x female reader #sal fisher headcanons #sal fisher oneshot #sal fisher imagine #sally face oneshots #sally face fandom #sally face fanart #sally face x reader #sally face art #sally face game #sally fisher #ashley campbell #travis phelps

[1-800-local-whore]

Sirius Black x Sweet/Innocent fem! reader

Marauder Era

Smut

Lucky - Britney Spears

warnings : sex, arranged marriage, cold husband, suspicion to cheating (no actual cheating), pregnancy-mentioned, angst, hurt, hemophilia, mention of blood, {probably missed something}, no y/n used, no physical description of reader

a/n : my work from wattpad. do not steal, copy, or repost {as in take and claim as your own work}. Enjoy babes.

words : 12k

••••••

This is a story about a girl named Lucky

Her whole life, she knew. She knew her adult life was planned out for her, laid down like bricks. Every detail inscribed down to when she would have children and how many. It was something accepted, something she honestly was somewhat excited for.

An arranged marriage was awaiting her, the only problem was to who. That was still a question. It was the same thing that had happened to her parents, all she wished for was it would become the same marriage. Her father was not the best man, he was greedy and always searching for more fortune. But his love for her mother was real.

The marriage had started off very professional but over the time the couple grew to love each other and that blossomed into a real partnership, as if they had been soulmates the whole time. She wanted even just a sliver of that feeling between her and her predetermined husband.

Many bachelors have come along in an endeavor to just have one date with her. She had rejected all of them, mostly because she did not want to become attached just to leave them for a marriage between families. Her schooling years were lonely for that fact, but she had her best friend to lean against. Regulus Black, a boy a few months older than her. The pair had been close ever since their first year. The sorting had placed her in Slytherin and she sat next to him at the table.

Over the years they had spend many hours together, even had sleepovers during Holidays. Everything about their relationship was the definition of platonic. Going to each other about relationship issues (mostly on Reggie's side) and homework (also mostly on his part). Their families encouraged the companionship hardcore, both being from respected pure-blood families. Neither one every being jealous of the other. Strictly best friends, childhood best friends.

In addition to the relations between the young students, came spending time with his older brother. Her and Sirius never had a falling out, rarely ever spoke to each other actually. But the rare occasion they did, it was not unpleasant but she could tell he would have rather been any where else. It would be a lie to say she did not find him attractive. Sirius Black was a very attractive man, just always cold towards her. Always coming off slightly rude with rushed conversation, looking anywhere but at her. Her heart pang with hurt each time, but she would push it down and think about her mystery husband.

What would he be like? Would he be cruel and unkind towards her, resentful even? Or would he cherish her like a delicate flower and look at her like a queen? These questions always flooded her mind. He could be freshly out of school or older than her own father.

"Do you think he's our age Reggie?" she floated into the air, staring at the ceiling from her friends bed.

Regulus was deep in thought, looking down at the question he had just answered. Muttering a "not sure" to her, before asking for a check on the answer.

"No, it's mandrake." She responded flopping back on the bed as he went back to hunching over his desk.

"Why do you even need this class? It has nothing to do with your future?" She continued to question him. And he of course, did not have an answer for her.

The teenagers had finished their last year at Hogwarts the year prior, both deciding to further their education. Regulus was attempting to enter the ministry for a job that she could not ever remember. She had started her training in becoming a healer, caring for people had always come naturally for her so why not make a career out of it.

Their parents had formed a bond with each other because of the two kids. The families were having a small dinner together at the Black residence. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing exciting, plus the best friends got to see each other. They enjoyed each other's company. So much so that many rumors went around school that they had coupled off, which was far from the truth. She had seen this boy with vomit all over his body from partying the night before, cleaned him up too. If any romantic feelings were harbored, well they just were not on either part. They told each other everything, down to the last, little detail.

There was a knock on the door, waiting for Regulus to allow them to come in. Kreacher popped his head into the room, telling them that supper was ready to be served and they were requested to the dinning room. They walked down together, laughing at stupidly fond memories of other Slytherins and mishaps that happened at school.

When they make it to the room, their parents are waiting. Father's had the head of the table, mothers chatting across from each other. Regulus sat next her at the table, in the spots the usually occupy, basically giggling to each other. Talking lowly to not be shushed and told to stop fooling around. The group had been waiting some time, food should be out any time now. The doors of the grand room open and close loudly when someone steps through them.

Sirius Black. It was rare he joined them in supper. His leather jacket wrapped around his body as a perfect fit, complimenting his body. She noticed his hair was almost to his shoulders with a slight curl. Nothing really compared to the short, curly hair his brother sported. He looked majestic almost with the way his hair shook as he walked to the chair right in front of her. Boots thumping against the ground each step he took. Her heartbeat seemed like it was mimicking the sounds as he moved closer.

She could also see the slight smudge of red lipstick on the collar of the jacket and the faintest smell of floral perfume. She looked down at her lap, she knew that scent. Nadia Antonov. A gorgeous woman that was the same age as Sirius. She had moved just before Hogwarts from Russia, her accent still held prevalent in her English to this day. She was tall, slim, and pale. She had beautiful dark hair and piercing eyes, breath-taking. She had also been an on and off again girlfriend of Sirius's. One of the two girlfriends she had known he had. She looked down at her plate when he sat down across her, feeling his eyes on her. He was never outright mean to her but she could feel the judgement radiating off him every time they were near each other.

"Glad you decided to join us tonight son." His father spoke uninterested.

"You forced me." Sirius spoke flat.

"Might as well get to it then. Sirius, you and Y/N are getting married soon. Congratulations." His mother spoke quick, clapping her hands together excitedly.

Her eyes widened, looking up from her lap. Immediately at Regulus, who wore an apologetic smile. She was marrying Sirius Black of all people. She transferred her gaze to her parents, the smiles on their face were radiant. Something she could not feel for the person directly across from her. She could practically feel the anger radiating for him.

"Her? HER! Of all people, you give me her?" His voice was somewhat calm, but spit venom.

She refused to look at him, instead opted to pick at the fabric of her skirt near her knee. His words stung enough, she did not need to see the look of disgust he would be wearing as well. The feeling weighted heavy on her chest, her soon-to-be husband's disgust towards her. All types of insecurities filled her, bursting at the seems.

She flinched at the sound of his fists hitting the supper table, eyes squeezing shut tightly to drown out the screaming match between Sirius and his mother. Only picking up bits about how rude he was being and that it wouldn't matter in the end because their decision was final. She tried to reach for Regulus's hand, seeking comfort from him. But he refused, pulling his hand away and sitting back in his seat in a huff of anger.

Sirius began to storm out of the room.

"Weddings in December. Be ready." That was all his father spoke the entire time before moving on to a discussion with her father.

The entire dinner was held in silence only suffocating the two friends, the adults continued as if nothing had happened just prior until they were excused from the table. She followed her friend back up to his bedroom, his steps quick and long. She could barely keep up with him, his irritating sighing doing nothing to help her own feelings. He only turned towards her when they reached the archway into his bedroom.

"You were the one thing I had that he did  not. You were my friend. Now you don't even have a choice. He still gets you, he still gets to steal from me. He has taken anything I have ever gotten, you were something he could not have. You were just supposed to be my annoying best fucking friend." Regulus ranted, blocking the entrance to the room.

"Reggie, I can still be your friend." She was afraid her voice would betray her, it did.

"I..." he huffed "I'm not sure I want something of his."

"Oh."

She nodded in understanding. She knew his feelings towards his brother, very particular about certain things. She was an understanding person, she knew his emotions were high and how well he could communicate them. He just needed time to adjust, they all needed time. But time was against them, December was only a month away. This wedding was going to happen no matter who protested and was going to happen when it was said to. There was no changing anyone's mind. She smiled sadly at her friend before asking him to move so she could collect her things.

"I think it's best if I leave now. I'll see you soon Reg." She spoke quietly with a broken voice. Her attempts to hold back on crying were almost deceiving her.

"No. You don't have to leave.." She cut him off.

"It's okay Reggie, really. It's a big change, everyone needs some time to process it."

With that she walked out of his room, a questionable feeling in her chest. She knew this marriage hurt her friend, after Sirius's outburst it hurt her too. But there was no time for pity, she just had to push through it. She walked to her mother. Both her and Walburga were chatting in a living space. No doubt about the wedding based on the swatches laid along the table in front of them.

"Hello mother, Mrs. Black. Thank you for the wonderful evening. But I must be off, I have an important exam coming up. I look forward to the next time I see you." She wore her best smile, one that gave the facade of happiness.

"As well" Walburga addressed the girl

before moving back to her mother, holding up another poring of colors and went deep into discussion once again.

Early morning, she wakes up

It's time for makeup, perfect smile

That announcement had been over a month ago. Today was the day of the wedding. It was a month built in isolation, she had not seen Sirius since, or really even Regulus. If it had not been for her healer classmates, she would have not spoken to anyone the entire time. Her world has been a quiet chaos, overwhelming her with no sign of stopping for a long time. The lonely feeling lodging itself deep into her chest, stuffing up her throat without a centimeter of air to flow through.

Her mother had her woken up early, barely past dawn. The wedding was not for hours, but she started prepping the event. She went into the bathroom to an already filled tub, steam rolling of the porcelain tub. The bathroom was honestly the only place she had recently for peace. Stripping out of her pajamas, she dipped into the scorching water, letting the water take over her body. The heat felt amazing against her stresses body.

She wordlessly flicked on the radio she had on the counter. With closed eyes, she relaxed into the water with an earful of "Try A Little Tenderness" by Otis Redding. It had been a favorite of her song and even musician since she was a little girl, dreaming about her very own wedding that was only hours away now. She was not really dreading the wedding per se, everything was just extremely stressful. Soaking in the water was a must have for today. She hummed along to the beat, running water along her arms with a soaped cloth.

She scrubbed her head, trying to cleanse the self doubt away. She did not want today to be miserable, but she feared that was out of her grasp. Dunking herself, water rushed filling her ears. Making her feel as physically heavy as she had been emotionally. Coming up only for a gasp of air before quickly submerging again. It had finally come time to step from the safety of her tub, only when her mother knocked relentlessly letting her know her time was running out.

The entire day was spent pampering, trying to get everything perfect to the finest detail. She would be officially wed in four hours, the finishing touches were placed on her face. Staring back in the mirror, it felt like someone else in her shoes. Not that it was a bad thing, she felt confident and beautiful, especially once her hair was pulled and pinned in a way that looked ethereal. This was the girl her younger self always pictured would be standing at the alter, dolled up in a white dress.

Stepping into the dress felt unreal, especially once it was completely zipped up on her body. The long, solid sleeves clung to her arms before cutting off at the wrists. The collar sitting lower on her chest, just enough for her collarbones to be on display. The neckline V'd towards the center of the chest, hugging at the waist before flowing outwards as the fabric reached the floor. The dress was fitted perfectly and made her feel like a real princess, like a queen.

The "couple" were to be wed in Black manor, which sort of stresses her out. The last time she had entered that place, nothing good came of it. But she was optimistic about today. Ready for it to bring new opportunities and chances. She arrived a few hours before with her mother, again touching up her makeup and hair before slipping on her white heels and giving herself a once over again in the mirror. 'Ready as I'll every be' she thought, wiping her sweaty hands down the side of her dress. She sat at the vanity waiting for the time to come.

She really had no say in anything about the wedding. Her only suggestion was to include the gold color, not because she wanted it to look or be expensive. The color relaxed her, the shininess gave a weird comfort. 'The color of wisdom, though many only see the greed that follows gold around." She could not remember who told her that, but it stuck. All she hoped was that it was included in some aspects, give her some control over this situation, over her life.

It felt like years, waiting in a desolate room by herself. Her mind racing, constantly going over the date. December 16, 1980. December 16, 1980. She was only eighteen, her husband twenty-one. Everything felt so quick, so rushed. Her chest felt it was caving in on itself, her dress was restricting airflow to her lungs. Drowning, that's what it felt like. She was drowning, suffocating from the pressure of her life. Hysteric is almost how she felt, pacing back and forth in the cold room. She's been wallowing in stress and the threat of tears for hours now. The pressure behind her eyes and between her temples screamed against them. They were centimeters away from falling when a light knock filled the silent space.

She moved slowly towards the door, it should not have been time yet. She slowly opened the door, her body hidden and only an eye peeking through.

"Hi!" A brightly, loving smile filled her vision, along with the bright red hair, "do you mind if I come in?"

She did not speak, but let the woman in. It was Lily Evans, or Potter now. Her and James had gotten married the summer before, she had heard about it through the papers and Regulus.

"I know how stressful today can be, and it's never fun to be completely isolated!" Lily took a seat on the ottoman at the end of the bed, "are you crying blood?"

Lily jumped up from her seat trying to tend to the girl.

"No." her voice small "Well yes, but this happens." 

She waved Lily off, grabbing a white cloth and dabbed away the pink tinted tears she had not realized shedded. Although the company was refreshing, she and Lily had never been friends. She looked up to Lily academically during school and admired her for her stubborn and self-assured attitude she always wore. As if reading her mind.

"Marrying into this family is a change. I mean I married James, but Sirius is basically his brother. He's a good man, stupid, but good. Everything will fall into place. Hopefully his head levels off soon." She let out a little laugh, easing the tense mood that held the air originally. "Besides, you look gorgeous. Anyone could see that!"

She and Lily spent the next several minutes chatting like they were old friends. Lily welcomed a warm light, and a comforting presences in the dark manor they were currently occupying. She helped apply finishing touches physically and mentally, trying to help the girl feel as beautiful as she looked. Even quickly removing a light pink stain from the chest of the dress with her permission.

"So, I'll see you at the after party at James and I's house? Harry is with my parents for the weekend, I could not be more excited for this party!" Lily cooed at the  thought of a normal weekend.

"What?" She was confused, what party.

"Sirius put it together. Oh I'll see you later." Lily left as her mother barged into the room, ready to usher her daughter to the alter where her husband was waiting.

She took the time the think about what Lily had said. Sirius had put an after party together? Maybe it was a surprise for after the wedding, a peace offering between the soon to be wed. She could not dwell on the thoughts for too long. A bouquet was stuffed into her hands as her father inter locked their arms. Her mother masked her face with the sheer vail, clapping her hands together before rushing back into the room that held the Black family, Her own family, and Sirius's friends.

The organ vibrates the floor as a wedding tune began to play, signaling the entrance of the bride. As the doors opened, the rows of people stood and faced them. Her heartbeat was in her throat, all the eyes on her was overwhelming, she noticed one set was on anything but her. Sirius could not bring himself to even glance in her direction. A stabbing sensation filled her heart and lungs, he could at least acknowledge she was suffering as well as he was in the arrangement.

Towards the end of the rows, she spotted Lily, who wore a bright smile and gave her the thumbs up in encouragement. She took a deep breath and continued with her fathers pace before reaching the alter. Sirius looked unimpressed and bored with the whole function. Maybe that was why she felt so guilty for finding him incredible attractive in this moment.

Sirius was wearing a black suit, crisp and tailored to his toned body. A sleek, black tie laid over the black vest that's as snug to his torso. The black overcoat fell off his shoulders, a white undershirt contrasting the dark colors. His hair was slicked back on the sides, the ends curled in an orderly fashion. A sight she had never seen, usually he had unkempt curls framing his face. He looked pale, with a slight shadow of facial hair peeking through the undertones of his clear skin. He was breathtaking to say the least, but his eyes bothered her. They almost held disgust or distaste, an uncomfortable feeling filled her chest. She knew she was not the pick of the litter but marrying her could not have been that bad.

He reluctantly moved the vail behind her head. Peering down at her for a second before moving his eyes away from her quickly. The officiant had begun, his deep voice spooking her more than bringing comfort. Truthfully, his gravely voice upset her. It was scary, she was already terrified by the scene unfolding in front of her. She zoned out, not listening to a word said until a knife was held in front of her face. Sirius took it hastily, and sliced a small cut into his hand. Reluctantly, she did the same. Wincing at the sharp blade against the palm of her hand, almost crying because of the painful cut. She did not handle pain very well.

The officiant spoke a few more words as blood oozed from both their hands. He ushered the pair to connect their right hands together, the ones that had been cut. He placed the respective rings onto their left ring fingers, a weird, tingly sensation spread through their veins with the mingling of their blood being the source. The Black family wanted them to be tied to each other by blood, thus having their interlocked fingers start to burn as the union became almost painful.

They were finally allowed to release each other, the officiant casting a spell to heal and clean their hands.

"I, now pronounce you as Mr. and Mrs. Sirius Black."

Both their respective families clapped formally. But Sirius's friends whooped and hollered at the union. As the newly weds walked passed them on the way out, James gave a loud wolf whistle, causing Lily to smack him in the chest.

The couple walked completely out of the house into an awaiting carriage. The ride was silent, she had no idea where they were even heading. Sirius had still not spoken to her, and she was unsure when or if he ever would. It shows that he was still extremely upset about the arrangement. The carriage stopped after about thirty minutes of flying, outside of a townhouse. The magical house appeared completely wedged between the other muggle houses. Sirius silently entered the home, as if he knew his way around it already. He silently went up the stairs, she stayed in the entrance basking in the place.

Sirius ran down the steps with hefty stomps, grumbling as he did so.

"Welcome home. I'm going out, so don't wait up for me. Your room is on the left." His words were fast as he pushed past and out the door. It clicked shut with a loud clash, causing her to squeeze her eyes shut and tense.

Instead of dwelling on the boy, she moved up the stairs to find the room he was talking about. It was decorated the exact same as her room back at her parents house. It was the first thing this entire day, or even this month to bring her any comfort. She flopped down on her bed, still in her full wedding attire. The events of today settled in. She was finally married, to a young and handsome man. Whom had just left her alone for the night, the night of her wedding. Tears started pouring out of her eyes now as loud sobs wracked the whole house. He was going to a party he planned for their wedding and did not even tell her about it. Lily told her, Lily said she would see her later. Now she wondered what Sirius was going to tell all of them.

Mascara and eyeliner ran down her cheeks, her face became streaky as she sunk into the bed. She was alone on her wedding night, the most joyous day of her life. Well what was supposed to be joyous.

She changed into an old, battered long sleeve night shirt and fluffy pajama pants, before she charmed her hair to just lay in a ratted bun instead of pinned together like before. She did not even bother washing her face, leaving the remanence of her pain on her face. It would leave another painful reminder in the morning but she did not care at the moment. Her body and mind was extremely fatigued from the events of the day.

She silently crept down the stairs, exploring only slightly while trying to locate the kitchen. She knew if this was Sirius's home there would be alcohol somewhere. She hit the jackpot after opening one cabinet in the kitchen. She grabbed a bottle of fire whiskey, forgoing a glass, she popped the seal off and gave it a big chug.

Once she was back in her room, she turned her record player on that had been moved into her room. Playing her favorite record, she once again today sang along to "Try A Little Tenderness", while crying into a bottle of whiskey that was soothing her soul slightly after every chug. Soon the bottle was empty and so were her tears, she just laid on her bed and listened to the song on repeat.

Isn't she lovely, this Hollywood girl

And they say

She's so lucky

It was March, spring smells started filling the air slowly. She and Sirius had been married for around four months now, four long, lonely, and cold months. They never spent anytime together, other than the slight PDA at family gatherings and galas. The bare minimum of an arm around the other for a few seconds of the night. His mother had been shoving the ideas of an heir, the pressure of continuing their pure-blood legacy with another Black to join the bunch. This would not have been such a bad idea, but their marriage was not consummated yet. She was not really sure if it ever will be.

She sat at a table, body clad with a darling dress. It was a baby blue, long sleeved dress. Flowing down passed her feet, a low slit running up the side. A drastic contrast to the dark colors of the people around her. Champagne buzzed through her system, making her brain a little fuzzy and her cheeks a tint of red. Her husband was no where to be found at the moment, she had just escaped his mother with more pressuring of a child.

She had recently been thinking of children. The house is very lonely, mostly just occupying her and a sweet, little elf named Peekey. She enjoyed their shared moments in the solitude of the dead home. Sirius was always away for work, or out on the weekends with Remus. Nothing was really confining her to the home, but with no friends outside of Healing School, she spent many cold nights alone in her bed.

"Your mother is such a... pest!" She whispered out to Regulus. Looking around to make sure no one was listening.

One thing had come from attending all of these gatherings. Her friendship with Regulus has rekindled, after hours filled with tears and sobs from both ends. Now they often spent most of the evenings at parties with each other. Regulus was much more intoxicated then she was. She did not mind though, the feeling of taking care of someone and them depending on her, filled her heart with happiness.

"Woah there, no need for name calling." Regulus snorted with rolled eyes. "Honestly, pest is too nice of a word."

"I'm serious Reggie. She keeps bombarding me with questions of a child! Sirius and I have not even..." Regulus cut his friend off.

"I do not need to hear about the sex life of my brother."

She huffed, stressed from the nights antics already. "I was going to say kissed."

She sipped more on her glass of champagne, scanning the room for any familiar faces. Only ones she did not really feel like conversing with in the moment. Polishing off her glass, she watched Regulus down another shot before stomping away towards the bathroom. While he was away, she refilled her glass and swirled it around. Many people gawked at her, mostly younger women with a few exceptions to older ones. In awe of the woman who married THE Sirius Black. They would constantly ask questions about what marriage was like to such a dreamy man. Call it what you want, but she wanted some fun with her life. She would make up wild stories of adventures and dates they had been on. Not wanting to crush their dreams of a doting husband, they would all fawn over sweet stories she would make up on the spot. Giggling slightly to herself when they would comment on how loving he seemed. Some even asked for dirty details, which she would flat out avoid talking about. Not only did she not know anything about Sirius sexually, she had no experience herself to fabricate a believable story. The questions were also extremely personal and uncomfortable for her.

"Oh dear, why don't you go find your husband. Call it an early night, you know. Heirs do not just make themselves." Walberga placed a gloved hand on her shoulder, ushering her to find Sirius with more comments on children.

She did not look very hard for Sirius, he was probably already gone. She was stationed near the restrooms, searching for her drunk friend. She spotted him across the room at the refreshment table once more. She quickly gathered him up, pulling the alcoholic beverage out of his hands and onto the table.

"Okay Reg, time to go home."

The journeys home with drunk Regulus are always a fun trip. They stopped around three times on the ride home for him to throw up outside of the carriage. Upon returning to her shared home, he spewed about twice, once on her shoes. She cleaned him up, tipping a glass of water into his mouth. She changed him into one of the spare sets of clothes he kept in her room, an agreement they made after Regulus had woken up in a puke-drenched shirt.

She laid him in her bed and walked to the connected bathroom to ready herself for bed. Her body felt the relief as the dress slipped off her body, she hung it up on the closet door. Switching into way less formal and more ratty sleeping clothes. Her hair pulled back messily, and her face cleansed of make up. They had at least three more events to make an appearance at within the next two weeks. Events she was dreading because his mother would be there.

Regulus was sprawled out on her bed, looking as if he was in a deep sleep. As she laid herself under the covers, he rolled towards her.

"You know, I'm a Black." He stated.

She giggled at his statement, "I do know that Reggie."

He laughed a bit groggy, rolling onto his other side.

"I just mean, I can give an heir and no one would question the paternity." He mumbled.

"What!?" She sort of yelled at her friend. The only response was loud snores from her drunk friend. Drunk, he was drunk. That's what she kept reminding herself as she tried to fall asleep.

The next morning, she decided to just forget what Regulus had proposed. He was beyond drunk and just processing the things she had said hours before.

Regulus woke up at some point in the afternoon, gladly accepting the potions she had to cure his hangover. Already having some food and water prepared for him, doting on people was a way she showed love. The thought of having someone to care for kept her heart beating.

"You know, I meant what I said last night."

"What?" The color draining from her face.

"I know mother can be... overbearing. Sirius does not seem like he would help you in this situation. I'm his brother and your best friend. Let me do this to make up for my actions when the marriage was announced." He held her hand, sitting up on her bed with the covers bunched around his clothed body.

"I don't know Reg, I still don't think I could do that to Sirius." She frowned with a sigh, truthfully she thinks that kids would make her life happier.

"Think about it as a friend helping a friend? Just think about it and the offer will stand. But for now, I gotta go. Work calls me in a few hours unfortunately."

Regulus left giving her one last "think about it" before heading to his home. The hours of the day dragged on slowly. She was not sure that Sirius would be home, but decided on making supper for them anyway. Which lead to another cold, and lonely night shared with her house elf.

She is so lucky, but why does she cry?

If there is nothing missing in her life

Why do tears come at night?

There was a birthday party at the Potter's today. For little Harry, his first birthday. Sirius had actually told her about this party and asked if she wanted to go. Granted he asked about two days ago, but none the less. This was the first event with his friends that he had asked her to tag along with in the seven months they had been married.

"Oh finally! I have been trying to get you to come over for months now!" Lily exclaimed towards the girl as she entered, taking the present for her son out of the girls hands and gave her a swift hug. "I tell Sirius to bring you every time he comes over, I was starting to think you don't like us."

This caught her off guard. She did not even know Lily well enough to really dislike her, but the fact that she wanted her to come over and Sirius never told her.

"I'm sorry Lily, I've been having some... health issues recently."

"Are you-" She cut Lily off quickly.

"Oh no, not that. School and health issues. I'm always drained or doing some tests, but I finally had a free weekend and couldn't be happier to be here."

Although, there was a ping of sadness for her conversation with Lily. Plus, watching Harry all night did not help with the yearn for a child of her own. She never could find a time to bring it up to Sirius.

And again, she went home alone that night. Sirius jetting off to the bar with Remus, or at least that was what Remus told her they were doing. But she did not really care in the moment. She had a good day, left the house, spent time with old acquaintances from school, and got to see cute babies all day. Nothing could put her in a down mood.

It was around, roughly 9 p.m. when the doorbell rang. She was little surprised by that, normally Regulus called ahead and just walked in. Remus would walk in especially if he was with Sirius. She made her way down from her room, in only a tank top and shorts due to the temperature rising outside.

"Hello?" She answered the door a bit drowsy considering she was almost asleep a minute prior.

"Oh 'ello, little von. Is Sirius 'ome?" It was Nadia.

Nadia, Sirius's girlfriend before the arraignment was made. She looked as beautiful as ever standing in front of her in all her tall glory. It just did not make sense to her why she would be at her home.

"Oh, um no sorry. He isn't home right now." Her voice timid, like she was afraid to answer the woman in front of her.

"Shame. Wanted to tell 'em I had great time with 'em the other day. That I can not wait for next time. You tell 'em day for me?" Her smile looked devilish, like she was smirking in a triumphant victory.

The wind seemed knocked from her lungs and ears clogged.

"Sure, I'll let him know. You have nice night and be safe." She spoke before closing the door as the beautiful woman sauntered down the stairs to the house.

She felt like tears were going to explode out of her eyes, she did not understand why it hurt so much. She felt so dumb, of course he was cheating on her. She also felt stupid for being upset, Sirius treated her considerable good for what some arranged marriages have been, the relatives she's seen. He is not abusive, just they do not communicate. He can be cold towards her when they speak, the little they do speak, but he has never been extremely cruel towards her.

She feels betrayed in a way, she put her happiness aside to stay loyal to a man who could careless about her in general. Without thinking she picked up the landline in the kitchen and dialed Regulus's number.

"I've changed my mind Reggie. I want a baby. Meet at my house Friday night." She did not even wait for him to respond before placing the phone back down.

Her school had just let out for the year, her week was so barren that she decided she would not waste a single night sober. Starting tonight, she took a cheap bottle of wine up to her bedroom, listening to music, and sipping on the bottle. She thought about her life once more. What had she done to deserve this? She was always good, always listening and obeying. She did not reject the idea of marrying someone her parents paired her to, even when it meant losing a friend. Now her husband is cold and unfaithful. She could handle him being cold and resenting towards her, but the fact that he would seek comfort in someone else. It just hurt, was she not pretty enough for him? Not his type? Was he repulsed by the idea of her so much that he spent every weekend and day he could away from her and their shared home. She was not even invited to her own weddings after party because her husband arranged it without telling her.

She feels silly, she's living a comfortable life that anyone would be happy to have. Technically she is married to The Sirius Black, any girl would swoon at those thoughts. Her home is a decent size, enough for her to have her own space. She had doting elves that are just too cute, lavish parties that require gorgeous dresses and expensive jewelry to attend. Riches from an old, wealthy family, though she does not dive into their funds and uses her own money. Except when her mother in law gives her money for dresses. She was about to start her own healing career. Her life was like a dream come true to others, making her feel selfish for wanting more. Pathetic for crying and drinking over what is considered minor in their marriage.

This went on more about two more days, drinking until she passed out, throwing up on her sheets, sobering up enough to change them and lounge around for the rest of the day, barricading in her room. She took two days off of drinking, her stash was running low and she needed to run to the store. But she felt no motivation to leave her bed.

Thursdays were days Sirius did not work, so he normally went out on Wednesdays. She assumed he had been gone for hours now, she was half a bottle of whiskey deep, and now out of alcohol. But she was not done for tonight, not even close. With the day approaching for Regulus to show up, the more nervous she got, the more nervous she was the more scared she became. Life moved so fast for her, she was not even twenty yet. But this how life goes for the woman in her family and many others. The fact that she was yet to conceive a child was alarming to her parents and Sirius's, although they did not know they had not even tried.

Not her best moment, but decided she would go to the store in this moment for more alcohol. The air was bit colder than she thought, hugging herself she stumbles down the paved side walk, clutching money in one of her hands. Singing quietly to herself, a strong breeze almost knocked her over. She stumbled almost to the ground, laughing at the fact before steadying herself and continuing towards the store.

She bumped shoulders with a tall, lanky man.

"Oops! Sorry Sir." She giggled before walking forward.

The man gently grabbed her arm, pulling her towards him and around to face him.

"What are you doing out this late?" He asked, almost sounding concerned.

"Oh hi Remus! Jus- gettin' more of me whiskeyyyy, I ran out." She pouted at the end of her sentence.

"You really shouldn't be out at night, especially drunk and alone. Where are your shoes?" She looked down at her bare feet, toes stiffly wiggling in the cold.

"Oh!" she giggled "must've forgotten them? I jus-really got out of me bed." Her accent coming through a little thicker.

"Okay, you barely have clothes, let's get you home. Where is Sirius?" Remus questioned, leaning forward to help the girl lean against him. Taking the cash from her hand when she complained about it cramping.

"Ion knowww... thought he was with youuu!!" She poked his belly slightly before focusing back on her stepping.

"You know, hodoubenekakskndbrehisyxh."

"What did you say?" Remus laughed at her incoherent speech a little bit.

"I have no idea." She hiccuped and held tighter around his waist when she felt she was about to fall.

"You are pretty entertaining little one, you should come out with us some time."

"Sirius never invites me, didn't even 'vite me to me own wedding party." She grumbled.

Remus grimaced, eyebrows furrowed, "he did not invite you?"

"Nope, Lily told me. But why go somewhere I am unwanted you know."

"We want you there. You are our friends wife, we want to be your friend too." Remus reasoned with her.

"Maybe. But some people do not. That's okay though, it doesn't matter." Her body shutters as the urge to cry flows up into her eyes. She's unable to control the tears that flow down.

Remus stops when he hears her sobbing. "Hey it's okay, there is no need to- is that blood? Why are your tears red? Are you crying blood? Oh shit!! What do I..."

Remus started to freak out, but she calmed him down in a second.

"It's a medical 'dition. I 'cry blood' sometimes. I fine, promise." She smiled at him as he wiped her eyes, but another wave of tears washes over her. "I think Sirius is cheating on me."

Remus stiffened, "why do you think that?"

"Nadia came over the other day. Said so, with her too. Are we almost home, I'm tired."

Remus picked her up and carried her the block back to her home, he had been heading this way originally. But him and Sirius had some matter to discuss currently. When he reached the home someone was outside, in front of the door.

Regulus had also shown up wanted to speak to Sirius.  Remus set her down in Regulus grasp, she giggled to her friend, telling him stupid jokes and how much she loved him as her best friend.  The door was locked and she did not have her keys on her. Remus started banging on the door, waiting for Sirius to open up.

The sight behind the door on Sirius's end was honestly hilarious. His best friend looking slightly irritated, his brother worried and almost nervous, and his wife smiling and drunk beyond recollection.

"We need to talk." Remus said flat.

The group moved inside.

"I need to talk with you too brother, but I'm going to take care of her first." Regulus walked her up the stairs and out of the vision of the other boys.

"So what is it you need to talk about Rem." Sirius asked relaxed, lounging on the couch, assuming Remus would follow.

"Are you serious?" Remus stood in front of him.

"Yes?" Sirius looked confused.

"No you fucking idiot. I found YOUR wife drunk and alone, almost into the middle of the town. Barely clothed, no shoes, and a wad of cash in her hands." Remus tried to keep his voice steady, tossing the cash into Sirius's chest.

"Oh. I had no idea she was gone." Sirius felt uncomfortable under his friends gaze.

"She told me how you don't invite her out with us on the weekends, and I know Lily practically begs you. Did you really not invite her to the party after your-HER wedding." Remus's voice was fluctuating between anger and disappointment.

Sirius closed his eyes. He felt horrible about how he had been treating her, how cold he had been. How stand-offish, but truthfully he just did not know how to process and handle his emotions.

"Merlin Sirius! Do you know anything about your wife?" Remus exclaimed, gripping his hair in irritation.

"Not really." He sighed, holding his face in his hands.

"She cries blood."

"She- what? She was bleeding? Was she okay?" Sirius perked up at the mention of blood.

"No! She cries blood apparently, her tears have a red tint in them." Remus softened his voice looking at his shocked friend.

Sirius knew he fucked up, he knew that three months into their marriage, he knew that the hours after their officiated ceremony. He felt bad, horrible, but he did not know how to fix it.

"She thinks you are cheating on her." Remus spoke, his voice becoming strict.

"What? I'm not cheating on her." Sirius looked confused. He had been faithful to her, although he was cold, he would never cheat on someone. "You know I would never, not after... not after her."

"I know that. But does she. I guess Nadia came over the other, told her to tell you what a great time she had and you should see each other again. Sirius have you two even... consummated the marriage?" Sirius shook his head, causing a groan to slip from Remus's mouth, "I know you wouldn't but please tell me you didn't." Remus was extremely serious. Although he was not her friend, he knew how sweet and kind she normally was. She was different from all the girls Sirius had been with previously.

"No! I haven't really even seen Nadia for three months. I haven't slept with her since before our wedding. She keeps trying to coerce me, but I refuse her. I swear it Rem." Sirius pleaded.

"Yeah, that's something you need to tell her tomorrow." Regulus walked down the stairs towards the pair of boys. "She called me the other night, drunk as all get out. She really thinks you are cheating. It crushing her more than the fact that you don't talk to her."

"I don't know what to do!" Sirius dug the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to relive some of the pressure "I don't know how to talk to her! I've never not known how to talk to a girl before her."

"Well big brother, you have until Friday. I'm supposed to come over while you are gone and give your wife a baby." Regulus said nonchalantly.

"What!?" Remus and Sirius shouted at the same time.

"You don't touch my wife!" Sirius exclaimed pointing an accusatory finger at his younger brother.

Regulus held his hands up in defense. "I'm not doing it because I want to steal your wife from you. She's my best friend, never been nothing more. But mother is pressuring her about when the next heir is born. Since you haven't noticed it at every single family events, too busy doing whatever. I offered it in a drunk stupor and she declined. But one night she called me crying saying she wanted a baby and wanted it to be Friday while you were out with your friends."

Honestly this knowledge crushes Sirius. He felt so guilt ridden for how this whole situation had ended, especially since most of it is his fault.

"You are so lucky! I am such a good brother. I didn't have to tell you about this, I could have just given her what she wants. What would satisfy everyone involved, but I knew her hesitance in betraying you. Even when she believes you are betraying her, she shook up stairs because she was scared the time had come. I had to reassure her and wipe away her tears that she was safe. DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY TEARS YOU HAVE CAUSED HER! Huh? How many crying phone calls and times I've had to come over to make sure she was okay after so many lonely nights. She always wore a smile towards me, always said nice things about you to me. People have told her since your wedding that she's lucky, so lucky to have had you as her husband. But brother, I believe it is you who are lucky to have her as your wife." Regulus stopped his rant, continuing to pace across the room, as he had done during the whole one-sided argument.

There was an uncomfortable silence between the three men in the parlor. All sorts of emotions clouding judgments and rational thinking. Sirius had silently decided what he had to do, what he needed to do.

"Regulus. Do not come back to my house, at least not on Friday. Remus, I'm canceling this weekend. Now if you would please leave my home." Sirius spoke in a monotone voice, a voice that made Remus uneasy having barely heard this tone before.

Silently, he watched Sirius descend up the stairs and out of sight around a corner before exiting the home.

If there's nothing missing in my life

Then why do these tears come at night?

Her nerves were at an all time high, today was the day that Regulus was supposed to come over. She was having extreme second thoughts, she still was not sure she could betray Sirius to this level. A child with his own brother, it just felt morally inappropriate and embarrassing.

Even though he offered first, she felt she was using Regulus in a poorly planned game of chess. Like he was a pawn in a little game, but she was a pawn in another game much higher above herself. She had spent that couple days isolated in her room. No attempts to contact Regulus and in return he had not tried to contact her either. The time for him to arrive was vastly approaching, butterflied filled her stomach at the thought.

She wrapped her arms around her torso, covering up the silk nightgown she had on with a matching silk robe. Her body felt cold and numb, like an out of body experience. She felt this would be another night of crying alone, no comfort and none expected to be given.

Her ears perked up at the hefty knock on the door. Bile raised in her throat. Merlin, she needed this baby so her in laws would back off for a bit. But she could not do it. Her heart clenched at the fear of the child she may never have. She just could not go through with this plan, not if it could potentially hurt Sirius.

She made her way to the door, hands shaking and legs wobbly.

"I can't do it Reggie! I'm sorry." She sobbed into her hands, not really sure why she's crying.

"Can we talk?" Her head snapped upwards at the voice. Sirius. She looked like a deer caught in headlights, her heart racing like light speed.

"Uh, Sure." she wiped her eyes quickly, confused when Sirius took one of her hands in his and walked her to sit down next to him on her bed. He seemed just as jittery, just as nervous as she was currently. They looked like messes and it was the truest sight of this couple.

"I know what you and my brother had planned." He said simply.

She stammered, lip quivering. "I'm sorry Sirius! I'm so sorry. I understand if you would like me to leave." Her head hung low, shame flooded her system.

"Darling, look at me." He spoke softly, nudging her cheek with his thumb. Looking into her sad and puffy eyes, offering a small smile to her. "I am not upset about the arrangement. I am upset because of how awful I have been towards you."

There was silence between the pair, very awkward and suffocating.

"I have not cheated on you. I know Nadia says otherwise. But I have not been with her since about two weeks before our wedding. It just did not feel right." Sirius confessed to his wife.

Her tears built up again, spilling over without a second thought. "I was going to be the one who cheated?"

She pulled her hands out of his, feeling disgusted by her own skin. Deeming it not worthy to be held against his skin, though he was not perfect.

"Sweetheart, it's okay! Regulus told me the other day. I am not mad, I promise. I understand the pressure you are under with mother. Which is why I am here, well one of the reasons." He grabbed her hands once more, having her look directly into his eyes.

"I think you and I should have a baby. I want to be a good husband to you, I just... I don't know how to be good to you. You confuse me and make me feel weird things, things I do not really understand. I've wasted so much time on being scared, I ignored your pain and sorrow, my little dove." Sirius stammered, his own eyes seeming to tear up.

"Sirius, it's okay-" he cut her off.

"No! It's not. I have so much to make up, I don't even know how to start. But let me show you love the best way I know how! Let me give you a baby and we can work from that point on, please?" Sirius slid off the bed and kneeled in front of her sitting body, pulling her hands up his lips for slow and sensual kisses. "I promise, if you help me, I will become the most emotional and loving husband. I have a lot to make up and I want to start working on that. I want you to feel the same way about me, that I have felt since my fourth year at school."

She gasped in shock. "You liked me in school?"

"Well, I didn't know then. But thinking about it and the teasing the boys gave me at times. I definitely did have a tiny crush on you." His face blushed red, embarrassed over such a tiny secret.

"Okay. We can have a baby, but please tell me our love won't only be physical?" She sounded sad, such a tone that broke his heart.

"Please teach me how to properly love you? How to handle my emotions, help me not become my father." He leaned close to her, engulfing her in a tight embrace. Rolling onto the bed, his face buried into her neck as small sobs escape his lips.

They laid together sideways on the bed for a little while, holding each other as if the other was going to fade away from their grasps. Sirius was holding her tighter than she was him, his face still buried into her neck. Inhaling her sweet scent that drove him mad, caressing her cheek with the hand that laid adorn on her face. Finally showing signs of tenderness that she had been craving for months at this point. While he caressed her face, her hand was scratching along the base of his skull. Twirling the ends of his hair before running lightly over the sensitive skin, causing a shiver to run down his spine.

His sobs quieted down, not even sniffling traced his mouth. His eyes still heavy and red with evidence of crying, slowly he started peppering light kisses along her neck. Her hand stopped playing with his hair, surprised by how loving Sirius was being.

"Why'd-ya stop?" He whined out, his words slurred as if he were drunk from her touch.

"I have a confession Sirius." She sat up and moved towards her pillows at the headboard of her bed. "I've never done this before."

Sirius noticed the pink tinge on her cheeks, finding her shyness adorable. But he understood her nervousness as he intently listened to the words she spoke.

"I-I just don't... I don't want it to be bad for you." She huffed, her hands falling in her crossed lap as her head hung low.

"I can promise, it won't be bad for me." He chuckled lightly trying to lighten the mood before following her up the bed and sitting next to her. "We can take it slow, or we don't even have to do that tonight love."

"But, I want to. Do you want to y'know with me." Her face was bright red, voice lacking confidence at her own statement.

"Of course I do! You are my wife after all. We can go slow, I'll be gentle. Lay down for me darling?" Sirius spoke with comforting enthusiasm.

She did as he told her, scooting down slightly to lay on her back comfortably. Her heart raced wildly as Sirius watched her move. They were not even touching, yet the whole scene felt so intimate to her. It did not help that this was her first time and knowing Sirius was experienced did little to bring her comfort.

"Have you ever kissed anyone?" She shook her head at him, feeling embarrassment burning again. "It's okay sweetheart, I don't mind teaching you."

Sirius crawled over her, hovering on all fours over her slightly rigid body. He ducked his head down to slowly press his lips against hers, a little more than a peck. He gently moved her arms to wrap around his neck, nudging one of her hands back into his hair causing her to giggle against his lips. Sirius turned his head sideways, deepening the kiss by putting more assertion into it. They kissed each others lips until she started gaining confidence in herself.

Sirius broke the kiss, pulling back completely to sit on his heels. Her legs were trapped underneath his body. She whined a little as he pulled away, her body raising to follow his lips earning a chuckle from him. "Have patience little one."

He rolled the black, tight-fitted shirt off of his broad chest, muscles flexing slightly as he tossed it aside onto the floor. She studied his naked chest. Acknowledging his toned build from years in quidditch, his smooth, pale skin, so warm and welcoming. Breath hitching at the trail of dark hair that disappeared under his belt. Sirius shifted his body, pulling her smooth legs to frame around his hips. Her short nightgown bunching around her hips, flashing a slight glimpse of her panties.

He leaned towards her lips again, the kiss stronger than the other ones previously. On instinct, she wrapped her arms around his neck once more. One hand combing through his locks that she noticed he seemed to throughly enjoy. His chest pressed against her, the silk of the nightgown raised bumps against his skin. Sirius's tongue timidly licked across her closed lips, wanting gain access to the inside of her mouth. She parted her lips slightly, the tips of their tongues touching ever so slightly.

He slipped his tongue further into her mouth, exploring the taste of her. Her body became stiff once more, unsure of what to do with her own tongue as his invaded her mouth. She quite liked the taste of him, but became flustered in the thoughts of how she should move her mouth against his skilled tongue. He pulled his mouth away from hers, a string of saliva following before snapping against his lower lip.

"Just relax and follow my lead." Sirius's spoke lovingly, petting the hair along her forehead to try and soothe her nerves.

Their tongues meet once again, he licked delicately at her tongue. She followed the motions he was doing with uneasy fervor. She liked the feeling of the soft muscle against her own, creating an intoxicating feeling of euphoria and pleasure. Sirius drug one of his fingers down her face, tracing the outline of her features as her reaches her neck. Slow touches cascade further down until it softly caressed over her nipple, his large hands engulfing most of her breast. "Is this okay?" He asked pulling away once more. She mumbled a 'yes' as she closed her eyes, basking in the feeling of his hands in her body in such a sensual way.

His hand needed at the tender flesh, his thumb circling around her hardening bud with a feather-like touch. Sirius moved his face back into the side of her neck, showering slow kisses in many places. He sucked slightly on her sweet skin and with the right amount of pressure on her breast, pulled an unexpected moan from her throat. Not only surprising herself but Sirius as well. He bucked his hips forward into her, almost moaning at the noise of her himself.

"Can I take this off?" His fingers moved from her breast to the end of her nightgown, toying with the hem between his fingers waiting for her permission.

She agreed and sat up slightly so he could pull the dress off completely. This left her bare breast and only panties covering her body. Sirius looked mesmerized by the sight of uncharted skin between them.

"I know it's not much to offer." She stated, noticing his staring.

"Let me show you something." Sirius moved off of her, popping the button of his dark jeans open and practically ripping them off his legs. Leaving both of them in only underwear. He took her hand and lead it down the happy trail of dark hair. "This! This is what you do to me, you little minx. You are so beautiful!" He whined out as he helped her palm him through his thin, black boxers.

Sirius pulled her hands away from him, leaning forward once more. He kissed around her chest, along the fat of her breasts and up the valley between them. He repeated the action with his tongue dragging around them as well. He enclosed one of her nipples into his warm mouth, sucking against it like it was his life's mission. The noises he was pulling from her made him feel like a god. The fact that she was enjoying his company and he could give her pleasure had his ears, as well as other parts, rushing with blood.

He caressed a hand along her naval, rubbing soothing circles into her hips as they slightly rocked into his body. He played with the lace decor of her panties, rubbing over the growing wet patch. Her breathing became heavy, a surge of desire rushing through her bloodstream as his fingers ghosted over the aching areas.

"You can- you can touch me there, underneath them if you would like to." She murmured, eyes shut and focusing on the pleasurable feeling he was giving.

"Do you want me to?" He smiled at her through hooded eyes, her face contorting in turmoil.

"Yeah, please Sirius."

"How could I say no to such a pretty little thing."

Her cheeks tinted red from his comment as he hooked the sides of her panties with his fingers and slide them down her legs at a teasing speed. His thumb teased between the folds, finding her slightly engorged clit. Rubbing half-circles over it, he noticed her tense at the motions, legs trying to clamp shut. He dipped his thumb lower to reveal the seeping wetness and exposing it to his skin before dragging it back up to her clit. This time pressing harder as he circled it fully, watching the pleasure on her face the entire time.

Ears perking and cock twitching as the quiet, breathy moans of his name she let out. He switched hands, letting one continue to rub her aching clit as the other hand moved lower towards her entrance. Easily slipping a single finger in, catching her by surprise. He worked it in and out while simultaneously stroking her clit. Once her moans start to become more frequent, he added another finger into the mix.

"How's this? Feel good?" Sirius whispered into her ear, voice husky and full of lust.

"Mmhmm!" She mumbled out her answer quick, eyes shutting to focus on the pleasure and new sensation.

Her body continued to quiver against his, and judging by the way she was clenching around his fingers. He knew she was close. He applied more pressure with his thumb, her moans became more consistent with his strokes. Her moan cut off suddenly, her mouth forming an 'o' shape as her body shuttered against his.

Sirius could tell she was cumming before she even knew what was happening. "That's it, what a good girl." She clenched harder around him as her breath started to even out slightly.

He pulled his fingers out of her, maintaining eye contact as he sensually pushed his fingers past his own lips. Sucking softly on them as a groan lifted from his chest. Blood rushing more south by the taste of her. The tange catching his arousal off guard for a second. "Are you ready darling? We can take it slow, we don't have to tonight."

"I want to! I-I want you Sirius. I need you." She babbled as she watched his fingers fall slowly from his mouth.

The air became thick with need as Sirius moved away from her to undress himself fully. His breathing became heavy as he slowly pulled his boxers off, teasing himself from the rushed and frantic pleasure he normally endured during hook-ups from the past. She peered at him from between her legs. He was about to be her first everything, the first cock she would have ever seen. It looked perfect to her, even having never seen another before.

He was a medium sized girth. The length looked like a comfortable size, sure there would be a stretch with it being her first time. But he looked to be a comfortable fit, not looking too scary with a slight curve upward. Sirius crawled over her, his hands holding himself up with her head in between his hands. He looked intently down at her. Lust still prevalent but a look of longing and love also filled his senses. He leaned down and collected her lips into a deep kiss full of passion.

"Are you ready?" He kissed along her neck waiting for her to respond to him. She told him that she was ready, he reached between them and ran his cock between her, caressing her clit with the tip a few times.

He caught her entrance for a second and pushed forward slightly, engulfing most of the tip inside. She squealed quietly with the pressure sensation, pulling his shoulders down towards her. Sirius began pushing in further, taking his time and making sure she was relaxed as he pushed more in. About halfway down, she clamped up and began for hyperventilate. He looked up at her face, noticing her eyes screwed shut, he tried to pull out but she told him that she was okay and he could continue.

The pressure was not necessarily painful, the remanence of her first orgasm still fresh within her body helped her relax. He started stretching her more and more the further he pushed until he bottomed out completely inside of her. He kissed around her face as she squealed once more because of the full feeling that held within her blissed stomach. He rested against her body, chests pressed firmly against each other as he cradled her head in his hands. Her arms around his neck as the slight pain dissolved.

"Sirius?" She whispered in his ear.

"Yes love?"

"You can move now."

Sirius kissed her lips once more and trailed more down to her neck as he slowly pulled his hips back from her body. Tentatively, he rocked forward into her, moaning at the warm, suction she was giving him. He was not sure what it was, probably emotions, but sex for him had never felt this good. Each gentle stroke he made into her, sent shocks of pleasure to each finger tip of his. His face fell into her neck, muffling every little or loud noise he made against her. The vibrations of the noises sent a sense of pride through her body.

Still sensitive from the previous orgasm, she felt amazing and comfortable. The happy trail that lead to wide patch of trimmed black hair rubbed against her clit. A tingling sensation filling her chest each time he pushed forward. Her own hips starting to rock into his calm strokes.

"I-I've never - oh merlin-" the feeling of her clench around him as his thumb softly circled her clit once more cute his words off. "Never had sex... this slow.. I- never thought it to—be this...glorious. Baby you feel so good." He moaned loudly each time she clamped onto him.

"Feel so full Sirius. Feel so wonderful." Her hand pulled at the nape of his neck, catching his hair between her fingers. Legs locked around his hips as she felt herself nearing another end. The emotions running rampant through her body heightened every sense. The pleasure in her lower belly felt intense, causing tears to start to flow from her eyes. Another tight circle of his thumb had her coming undone around him. Moaning directly into his ear as she held him tighter to her body. Trying to seek every inch of him into her grasps.

The noises, the actions, everything about the whole interaction had Sirius convulsing. He was about to cum, almost embarrassing quick for himself. The feeling of her cumming worsened his control as he felt himself topple over the edge. Almost instantly spilling into her.

"I love you." Sirius held onto her tightly as she felt warmth fill up her womb. Her heart and body tightened as he listened to his words. Basking in the golden feeling she was currently experiencing. As Sirius weakly rocked through their orgasms she whispered back to him that she also loved him. Both of them feeling a copious amount of love and joyfulness.

The pair stayed like that for a little bit. Tears filled her eyes earlier were pooled down her cheeks but no more were spilling. Sirius was seated inside her still, not moving even and inch off of her. She noticed his shoulders start to shutter as well as the muffled sniffles against her shoulder.

"Sirius? Honey, what's wrong?" She stroked his head, running her fingers through his tangled, sweaty hair.

"It's nothing." He tried to mumble off but she persisted on coaxing out his misery. "I've never felt love like that. Never been slow and soft. Never felt so loved."

She continued to coo at him and give him reassuring compliments. But still he felt his own insecurities and doubts bubbling to the surface.

"I'm sorry. I don't normally blow my load that quick. I'll make it up to you I promise!"

"Sirius look at me." She grabbed his face with both hands and stared into his eyes, nothing but love and satisfaction on her face. "I couldn't have asked for a more perfect moment." Before pulling him into a comforting embrace.

When Sirius had finally pulled out of her, he quickly ran out of the room. She felt a bit confused but slightly hurt. He ran rather quick as if he was disgusted by the act the pair had just committed. Stress and worry started to fill her mind as she felt the tears pool into her eyes and spill over one tear at a time. She thought they had finally made a breakthrough, when she wiped her eyes she noticed the red stains from the tears. Perfect way to top it all off.

She hiccuped shocked when she watched Sirius waltz back into the room, fresh pair of boxers on his body. Hands full of clothes and a rag. He gently began to wipe down her shaky thighs and intimate parts.

"Why are you cry- are you bleeding? Oh Merlin! Did I hurt you?" Sirius spoke frantically, confused and hurt by the thoughts of hurting her.

"No, Sirius" she laughed slightly at him, "it's a condition I have."

He just nodded, unsure of what to say back to her. He decided to finish cleaning her up and dressed her in a pair of his boxers and a loose shirt. Topping it all off with a kiss to her lips. The pair cuddled up together under the covers. Her hand and head resting against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. His had his arm wrapped around her body, one hand resting of her stomach.

"Let's hope it took darling, though I would not mind trying again with you." Sirius giggled like a little teenage boy.

"Yes let's hope." She laughed along with him.

"I'm going to take you out tomorrow night. Just us. Some place nice. Some place you deserve." Sirius spoke with determination.

"I'd love that a lot Mr. Black." She peppered a few kisses against his chest before closing her eyes to drift off into sleep.

"I'd do anything for you, Mrs. Black."

#sirius black #sirius black smut #smut imagine #arranged marriage #slight angst #smut #maraders era #sirius black x fem!reader #innocent reader #regulus black x platonic!reader #implied pregnancy

[kkaewrites]

real or not real — nagi seishiro x reader !

warnings. indecent language, ooc nagi.

tropes. meet-ugly, enemies to lovers.

you hate nagi seishiro.

he was stone cold, often referred to as socially awkward— but you feel like those were just excuses to make up for his rude and nasty behavior. personally, you think he’s overrated just because he’s considered a soccer genius. of course, no one ever believes you. they think your hatred clouds your judgement (it obviously does not).

you first met him when you were in grade school, deskmates for the first day of class. he was shorter than you at that time, but aside from his height, everything about him stayed the same. he still has the same gunmetal gray eyes that’s either reflected with boredom or reflected by the screen of his gray nintendo gameboy. he still has the same white hair, as clean as the first drop of snow, but as wild as a lion’s mane.

to you, there was absolutely nothing about him that’s fascinating— he was the same as any average boy. playing mobile games was his favorite past time, so much so that you believed that it was his lifeline at one point. or so you’d assume. he always kept to himself and was left to his own devices (quite literally), most things that kids enjoy don’t seem to pique his interest. you guess those were the reasons why he didn’t have many friends.

no, scratch that— he didn’t have any friends.

at first you wondered why. if there’s one thing you noticed about him even at a very young age, it’s that he’s handsome. he doesn’t have to be the “rich kid” with amazing gadgets and fancy toys, or the “cool kid” who knows what right words to say and way to say it, but he’s nagi. he was conventionally attractive without even trying. however, that fact doesn’t seem to make up for the fact that he looks lonely.

so, you’ve devised a plan to talk to him.

“hey. sei-chan, wanna be my friend?” you’re everyone’s friend. the sunshine child, the one who always lends her classmate crayons or pencils, the kid with pigtails who smile at strangers for no reason. you’re the kid that everyone loves, and if by some miracle, someone hates you (which has never happened and will never happen)— everyone would simply take your side. you’re loved by all.

if nagi was shocked by your sudden proposal, his features didn’t show any signs of it. what he does is pause his current game and faces you. it’s the first time you’ve ever stared at him eye-to-eye. your heart jumps.

uh oh. is this what they call a crush?

eyes filled with hope, you patiently waited for nagi’s response. you expected him to utter “sure” wearing his usual monotone voice, but it doesn’t come. and what he says instead ruins you. your heart does a somersault and tumbles, crashing onto the pavement and breaking into tiny, gliterring pieces. it did not feel good.

“no thanks. i despise people like you.”

you’re not sure what you’ve done wrong at that very moment. maybe you were too blunt, too cheery, too whatever — just something too much to be able to upset someone like nagi seishiro, who doesn’t feel strongly about anything or anyone. you didn’t have the courage to ask him what you’ve done wrong because your vision blurs. you always reckoned that it was due to anger, but your mother who saw you run home with tear-streaked cheeks says otherwise.

you still don’t know how you managed to piss off nagi, even until your very first year of college. after grade school, you never saw him again. you heard he studied at some prestigious high school but that was the end of it, you never really asked because you had no interest whatsoever. you somehow managed to assure yourself that there was no way you’d ever cross paths with him once again— so why is he here?

why, of all places, would he be your deskmate for your politics class?

at this point, you thought maybe the gods above despised you, too. did they hate you enough to not only be schoolmates, not only be classmates with this man, but to be deskmates? hate is the only logical explanation for this fucked-up coincidence. you’re not keen on fates or invisible strings so you’re sure this was just a punishment for you.

oh god. you hate it so much. you hate him so much.

without a word, you took the seat right next to him, taking the opportunity while he’s sound asleep. you’re not sure why he would take politics as his subject, because as far as you know about him, all he ever cares about is his mobile games. maybe soccer as well, but that’s not exactly related to politics, either.

when the professor enters the class, you found no reason to wake him up. he could get screamed at for all you care, but there was no way you’d ever converse with him at your own accord. because the only way you’d ever survive sitting next to him for the whole semester is by not acknowledging him at all. you can do that. you can avoid talking or looking at him. he’s not that talkative (and he’s not even awake) to begin with.

until your plan crashes and burns.

he turns out to be your partner for a school project— a big one, at that. you considered going solo, but the whole point of the project is to make sure two people are working together. it was a community development kind of plan, so unless he works with you and you work with him, you’d be getting an F for your politics class. that, you can’t have. even if it meant talking to him and enduring his presence.

he wakes up right after the class ended and you could barely contain your scoff. he sat through the whole 2 hour lecture just like that, does he have no care for his grades? doesn’t matter. it’s none of your business if he fails, that simply means that you won’t see him much anymore (which is a win for you).

you sighed. he should’ve been paired with someone else. why did it have to be you? why did it have to be your deskmate? and why did he have to be your deskmate? it was too much. how could you ever work with someone you hate? with someone who hates you?

you’re going to fail politics. you’re 100% sure of that. there was just no way that you’d ever accomplish this task— or you could beg your professor to let you switch partners. or you could ask your classmates to let you switch... but who would ever want someone as lazy as nagi to be their partner? fuck.

from the corner of your eye, you saw nagi yawn. it took all of you to swallow your pride whole and gulp it down to ever approach him, but it’s better than not trying. if you fail, at least you tried. even if it meant battling your inner demons.

so, clutching your bag straps tightly as if it would ever help, you turned to your sleepy deskmate. “nagi. it seems like we’re partners for the politics subject. i’m expecting you’d cooperate willingly so that—”

“sorry,” he interrupts with half lidded eyes. “do i know you?”

“you’re going to rip your paper to shreds.” nagi commented from behind you, peering over your shoulder as you aggressively wrote on your notebook. you imagined the page to be nagi’s face as you cruelly stabbed it, not caring about your pen or your paper’s state. you cannot believe that for some reason, you’re still stuck with the snow white haired guy. you’ve tried everything there is to get rid of him but nothing seemed to work.

“right,” your teeth could break with how hard you clenched your jaw. “will you be free later?”

“oh. i have soccer training.”

of course he fucking has soccer training.

you gave him the strongest deadpan you could muster before exhaling a deep breath. once to calm yourself down, twice to clear your head and thrice in hopes of losing all of your lungs’ air so you could shrivel and die on the spot. nagi seems to be unaware of your thoughts— and even if he had understood your facial expression and body language, he simply did not care.

“i’ll be free after, though.” he adds, as if you’d ever know that information if he hasn’t uttered it. this at least gives you the sense that he might care about the group project, and that he won’t be a complete inconvenience.

“okay. let’s meet up at the coffee shop near school. will you be done at 8?”

“yeah. but,” he pauses. “i thought we’d just do the project at my place.”

“who died and made you king?” you blurt out before you could think of a proper response. you wondered if you’d ever feel so strongly about a person the same way you did for nagi. he was driving you mad.

“what?” his clueless face almost made you feel guilt— almost. but you ignored the sensation and frowned instead. the least you could do was give him a clearer sentence:

“there’s no way i’d ever step a foot at your house.”

“it’s fine. no one’s home anyway.”

“that’s even worse.”

“huh? oh. don’t worry. you’re not my type.”

the conversations you somehow hold with nagi infuriates you. he has this way of making you feel like shit for some reason, and he does it with so much nonchalance you’d wonder if he insults everyone. but you know better and you know he definitely doesn’t, because you’re the only one he treats like this. it’s the absolute worst.

what does he mean you’re not his type? were you not pretty enough? not tall enough? not skinny enough? not fair enough? not what? ever since grade school, you’ve always thought that he sees you as someone “too much” and yet as he stands here with you, in an empty classroom— you wondered how you could be “too much” and yet be “not enough” at the same time.

and since when did you care about how he views you? since you were kids, apparently. because the words he would utter up until this day shatters you all the same. and you hate him— so goddamn much. but beyond all that anger, there’s grief. it doesn’t subside even as you grabbed all your things and shoved 6”3 foot tall nagi aside.

for some reason, he shows up at the café you mentioned at exactly 8 o’clock in the evening. you were typing away on your laptop, while a cup of caramel macchiato and a bunch of scattered papers littered your desk. you didn’t expect him to come, and it would’ve been better if he didn’t. but somehow, he’s here and he looks a little apologetic.

“are you upset?” he asks. his sports bag slumped over his shoulder as he stands right next to you. there’s an unoccupied seat in front but he doesn’t take it— at least, not yet. his whole, undivided attention was poured onto you and you alone. it makes you squirm in your seat, so you decided not to look up from your screen to greet him.

“no. take a seat.”

“you look upset.”

“do you want me to be upset?”

“no.”

“then shut up.”

wordlessly, he takes the seat right in front of you and slouches. he looks battered and fatigued from practice, but he doesn’t say a word to complain (to your absolute shock). you guessed that he walked straight from the field to the café without even changing or taking a shower, because his clothes clung to him like a shirt a few sizes smaller.

“shouldn’t you go change?”

“yeah. but i left my clean clothes at my apartment.”

fifteen minutes pass and you suddenly closed your laptop shut, eyes fixated on nagi’s gunmetal gray ones. he looks surprised from your sudden move, a look that you didn’t expect to recognize due to how miniscule it was. you felt bad for him. the café was getting too cold for comfort and all he wore was his jersey (one that’s drenched with his sweat). if you stayed any longer, he’d probably catch a cold.

why you care, however, that was not a question you could currently answer.

“let’s just go to your place.”

despite his constant need to laze around, his place wasn’t a complete mess— well, yes, there are (presumably dirty) clothes on the floor and used dishes on the sink, but you’ve seen worse. you expected his apartment to be so much worse. it seems like he’s not a complete monkey to not understand basic hygiene and cleanliness.

your only problem is that nagi seems to be bored. you caught him dozing off the coffee table as you ramble about your politics project, and you don’t even have to ask if he cares at all— because he’s trying to hide his obvious distate and boredom. so, even though you’d rather proceed to do your work rather than humoring this 6 foot tall giant, you pipe up:

“wanna play a game?”

“what game? i don’t like games that require effort.”

“it’s called real or not real. we take turns in guessing if the other person’s sentence is real or not real.”

“sounds like a pain.” he groans.

“you know what truly is a pain?” you turned to look at him. “this politics project. so take it or leave it. i’m kind enough to give you a break.”

“shouldn’t we play a different game? a mobile game, maybe.”

“what about a wager, then? the winner’s the boss.”

the game was a piece of cake— to you, at least. nagi’s an open book and it’s easy to read him. you explained that the mechanics goes like this: you take turns in giving very specific sentences about yourself, and the other party has to guess whether it’s real or not real. five wrong guesses means that the other person wins. so the only thing you have to do is to make sure that nagi loses first.

unfortunately, you were down to four mistakes while nagi only had one. the game wasn’t going like how you imagined it would be. how were you supposed to know that nagi keeps a cactus as a pet? how were you supposed to know that he only figured out how to play soccer when he was in high school? how were you supposed to know that he’s got a picture of his crush under his study table? (you still had no idea who that crush is, and it quite literally shocked you). how were you supposed to know that someone like nagi seishiro, was capable of liking someone romantically?

on the other hand, out of the six sentences you threw at him— he had only guessed wrong once. you don’t know how he’s so good at this game, too. it was either he knew awfully a lot about you, or was really good at second guessing things. you’re pretty sure it was the former. how could he know a lot about you, when he doesn’t even know your name?

“real or not real: i hate you.” you stated. his nonchalance was putting you off, but you’re not sure if you were uneasy because of it or if you felt guilty for saying that sentence out loud. you told yourself you could just take it back and act as if it’s not real but nagi himself looked so convinced when he said:

“real.”

he was right once again. but you didn’t have enough time to dwell on the whole thing when his sentence comes.

“real or not real: i want to kiss you right now.”

the silence was so loud it pierces your ears— or maybe you have gone deaf with that sentence. you’re not sure of anything at the moment because it feels like your senses were slowly slipping from your own fingers. if nagi was joking, his face didn’t show any signs of him laughing soon. but maybe you should know better, maybe he could joke like that with a straight face.

so you waited for a few minutes, for him to tell you that it was a joke— that it’s not part of the goddamn game because how could it be part of it? but nothing comes. his eyes were simply on you as he patiently awaits your answer. your make it or break it answer, at that. and it only dawns on you that this is real, this is his sentence and he’s expecting you to play. he’s expecting you to answer real or not real. because you were the one who proposed the game in the first place.

you wanted to scream and to run away, but you were rooted on the spot. time stood still and it froze you under nagi’s unblinking gunmetal gray eyes, as if the situation’s not bad at all. but this is a trick question, your rational mind says. he told you when you were younger that he despises people like you, asked you if he knows you upon meeting at your politics class, and told you that you’re not exactly his type— so there’s no way he’d want to kiss you. right?

you meet his gaze. right, nagi?

against your better judgement to think it through, you suddenly blurted: “real.”

his face doesn’t shift and nor did the mood of the room. your heart was beating erratically as if you’re not facing the guy you clearly hated with a passion, but the silence ensues. you were screaming at yourself, why the fuck did you say real? were you out of your goddamned mind? were you crazy? the answer’s clearly not real!

nagi, however, only looks away. “huh.”

“what?”

“i almost won. what a pity.”

“the answer’s real?”

“yeah.” he tilts his head and answers as if you were stupid. as if you were the one who’s weird and doesn’t get what’s happening— but maybe that really is the case. because you’re mind hasn’t caught up yet. what does he mean the answer’s real? does that mean he wants to kiss you, right now? how is that possible after all the things he had said to you?

you laugh. not the quiet giggle or the chuckle you were accustomed to doing, but a belly laugh— one that could rival a hyena’s. because this was funny. too funny. he’s definitely joking and you’ve only figured out that now.

“okay, fine. you got me.”

“what do you mean?”

“the joke. you’re so serious that i almost missed it.”

confusion marrs his face. “what joke?”

“about the kiss.”

“i wasn’t joking.”

“well, i’d rather have you joking than for that sentence to be real.”

“you hate me that much?”

he almost sounds hurt, but you knew better. how could he be hurt, out of all people? if there’s anyone who’s hurt, it would be you. how can he say all those hurtful things with so much nonchalance and tell you things like he wants to kiss you? how cruel must he be to toy with you like this? it was not funny. none of this was funny.

and it reminds you of your childhood— of your little crush on nagi that never seemed to go away. somehow, the little you screams that you should not fall for something like this. that it is easier to hate nagi than to love him. that it is easier to stand up from your seat, smile, and tell him: “yeah. i do.”

it has been a week. maybe two. or three? you’ve lost count. you’ve never visisted nagi again after the whole real or not real game, and you never saw him often because he’s been excused. something about soccer championship that you didn’t bother listening to. besides, you liked the comfortable silence now that he’s not around.

your phone dings. and it’s from an unknown number. but somehow, you guessed it has something to do with nagi.

unknown

real or not real: i’m sorry

oh. that’s right. the game technically hasn’t finished yet because no one has won. you told yourself numerous time that you won’t reply to his message, but against your better judgement, you somehow still did.

you

real

when your class ended, nagi seishiro was right outside. he was panting and sweaty— as if he ran just to get where you were. but this is nagi we’re talking about. there’s no way he’d actually do something like that, despite his lingering look on you. what’s that supposed to mean, anyway?

breathless, he speaks up to catch your attention. you were busy stuffing your books inside your locker, back against him as you completely ignored his presence. you did not say hi. you did not meet his gaze. but even without direct contact, your heart was drumming against your rib just by knowing that he’s near. what the heck.

“we won the game.”

there’s a lot of responses that entered your mind at that very moment. entry #1, who asked? entry #2, who cares? entry #3, why are you telling me this? and the list goes on. you’re pretty sure none of them were positive— but this was all so confusing. why was nagi chasing after you like a lost puppy who lost its mom? what’s he going for here?

“that’s good for you.” you slammed your locker shut and walked away. nagi eventually follows after you, as if there’s something in his throat that he wants to let out, but you didn’t give him the chance to. you’re sure nothing that would come out of his mouth is good. you’re sure he’s running after you because of the politics project, or because he wants to annoy you.

and you hate it. you hate him. your gut twists at the thought of him running after you like this is some shoujo manga and that’s the annoying part. how is your heart flipping with your every waking step if you hate him so much? you’re supposed to hate nagi, god fucking damn it.

you finally stop in your tracks, whipping around to face the 6 foot tall soccer player. to get it all over with.

“is there something you need to tell me?”

“we haven’t finished the game.”

“i don’t care about the game. leave me alone.”

“it’s your turn. your real or not real.”

this was stupid no matter what angle you look at it. it was just some game you made up and decided to try with nagi. it didn’t mean anything to you because all you wanted by then was to get his attention, so why did it matter so much to him? you don’t get it. you’re not sure how nagi circuits because everything he does confuses you. and before you know it, your irrational side takes over. reason left your body when you blurted the words:

“stop it. fucking stop this.”

why are you so persistent?

“was it fun to toy with me? was it fun when you told me you despised me when we were kids? was it fun when you told me i was not your type? i don’t fucking get it.”

you were angry. mad. seething. your blood boiled underneath your skin and you feared that it would leave your whole being in nothing but dust. through it all, you’re also confused. perplexed. lost. your mind can’t understand the fine line between hate and love anymore. your feelings overlap with each other and merges— you’re not sure what you’re feeling now. you’ve wondered how long you’ve buried this string of emotions you’ve had for nagi. that would explain why you’re nothing but a ticking time bomb now.

“if my playing with my feelings give you so much fun— then do it elsewhere. i have no time for things like this, nagi.”

“but i’m not playing, though. i’ve liked you for quite awhile now.”

excuse me?

“oops. i accidentally gave the answer to my next sentence. what a pain,” he scratches the nape of his nexk and looks away.

how the fuck am i supposed to respond to that?

“do you expect me to believe you?”

“i’ve got no reason to lie,” he shrugs. “plus, lying’s a pain. i don’t like it.”

“but— what you said back then...”

“i, well. i go blank when i talk to you. i guess. my stomach flips when you’re around and my throat goes dry.” nagi doesn’t look at you once while he utters this. tinge of red coats the tip of his ears and this is where you think ‘this is it’. he’s not lying. this is real, and you know that much— nagi never looked nervous until now. you think maybe that explains why he would avoid your gaze and why he would say the most confusing things. you think maybe this is nagi. the socially awkward nagi. the one who can’t talk to people properly nagi.

“i’ve always thought you were pretty. i despise pretty things because it makes me feel things. it’s a pain.” he mumbles. “of course i know you. of course i know your name. but it’s the first thing i thought to say because your face was too close. you’re prettier up close.”

he should stop talking. he should drop it all together and just kiss you, but you could never say these words because you haven’t wrapped your head around the whole thing yet. nagi likes you. nagi thinks you’re pretty. nagi short circuits when you’re around. nagi thinks you’re pretty. nagi’s actually confessing. nagi likes you. he thinks you’re pretty. he likes you.

“i don’t like pretty things. that’s not my type at all. but reo said i might be in love with you.” he finally turns to look at you and tilts his head. your face burns— and you swore it was because of the remnants of your anger, but everyone else could tell that it was not. your heart does a somersault, but this time it does not drop. it stays in the air, lingering like nagi’s perfume scent, until he carefully waits for it to land on his palms when he said: “i think he’s right. i’m in love with you.”

for the duration of your game with nagi and with all the truths shared between the both of you— this is probably the most real out of them. this is the only time he doesn’t ask the question ‘real or not real’ because his face says it all. his face says that it’s the real and raw truth. his face says that you must believe this because he’s not making it up. it was the first time you could read his expression. it was the first time that you’re not confused by nagi.

“fucking dumbass,” you comment. “that’s not how it works.”

you reach over to grab his collar, on your highest tip-toes because of his height. you’re pretty sure you’re the only ones present in the secluded corridor but the clamors of your heart makes an illusion of people cheering for you. somewhere in the parallel worlds of your universe, you think maybe those cheers exist. it only silences when you pulled nagi down with you, whispering:

“i hope you still want to kiss me, then.”

when he closes in the gap between the both of you, his answer was loud and clear.

i do. always.

notes. YES YES YES i finally finished this long ass fic! i’ve been writing it since forever & im just SO glad i finally get to finish it 🥹 as u can see, there is nothing on my mind rn but nagi seishiro. he’s literally living in my head rent-free and i’m not complaining. i love him too much. i hope u enjoyed this ‼️ as always, likes & reblogs are appreciated <3 thank you so so much for ur patience & love for this blog ❤️

ִ ࣪𖤐 masterlist !

#kae’s 💭 #bllk #kae’s writing . . . #bllk scenarios #bllk x y/n #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #bllk x reader #bllk x you #blue lock x y/n #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi seishiro x you #nagi seishiro x y/n #bllk nagi #nagi seishiro #nagi seishiro scenarios #nagi x you #blue lock nagi #nagi x reader #nagi x y/n

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

A Danish Werewolf in The City:

The First Sight.

Note: follow up to The First Shift. I have read this over and over and over again, and I just had to let it go and post it. May have missed some mistakes as my eyes literally hurt by now :') 

Warnings: 18+! horror/gore described, mention of (child) death/murder. once again, it's a dark werewolf fic...

pairing: Werewolf!Sihtric x you (f)

summary: You had fallen in love with a werewolf. 

wordcount: 3,6k

Masterlist

Chapter 1.

That something had been different about Sihtric became evident during the first few months of your relationship. 

You had first met at work, for you were both veterinarians, and you were transferred for a day to Sihtric's location as they were short staffed, and you both knew it was love at first sight. His hair was of shoulder length and braided, the sides were shaved freshly and his facial hair was well kept too. Sihtric was simply a breathtaking man, and he treated you with the utmost respect once you began dating, even asking permission before he first kissed you.

The first weeks of dating were like a dream, but then Sihtric suddenly started to disappear every few weeks for about three days. He had just gone without a word, but then showed up at your door again as if nothing had happened after those three seemingly random days. It was almost as if he died every few weeks, only to suddenly rise from the grave again and return to you, looking as beautiful and charming as ever, so you couldn't help but continue to fall for him and ignore your suspicions. Sihtric promised you that his disappearances had nothing to do with you, but that he sometimes struggled "with his own being", whatever that meant. But he soon felt inclined to open up to you and tell you about his wolf problem, as he sensed you began to doubt his loyalty due to his recurring strange behaviour.

And werewolves were not unheard of, nor were other creatures of the night, as you had treated numerous animals who had clearly been at the claws of those beings. You had just never met one and you surely never thought you'd fall in love with one, so you had a hard time accepting his honesty for a little while. You couldn't possibly imagine this was a curse he had lived with his whole life and only exposed itself during his late teens. And you, like any other regular human being, only knew of the fairytales which described werewolves as hideous monsters, and yet Sihtric wasn't a monster, for all you knew at least.

And he also wasn't the young and frightened boy anymore which he had told you about, yet it still saddened you gravely that he had lived such a tragic and lonely life, before he changed into the confident man he was now. Sihtric was clearly in full control of his other being too, only shifting when the Moon was full or when a situation called for it, so you chose to believe and trust him completely after you had taken a few days to yourself to let it all sink in. And you slowly began to understand him more and more.

The scars on his face had been something you used to ponder about at night, as he never gave you a clear answer to how he had gotten those. It was only after you found out about his beast-like nature that the scars, which graced his face as well as the rest of his impressive and muscular body, were claw markings he had earned in territorial brawls and violent fights over time, earning him the true alpha status he held now.

Sihtric's short temper, impatience and hunger for violence were also things you had been wary of at first, but it was already clear that he would never be aggressive towards you or those he cared for. He was only incredibly protective and possessive of you, both traits you didn't really mind as it made you feel safe and desired by a beautiful man. The way he always held you close in public or how he refused to let you walk home on your own once it was dark, it all made your heart beat faster for him. But you also never suspected Sihtric did those things out of a fear which was deeply rooted inside of him and every other werewolf; terrified of losing a loved one to a werewolf's natural enemy.

But the most peculiar thing about Sihtric were probably his sexual urges, and the fact that he seemed to have an insatiable sex drive. You could make love for an entire rainy day, and he still wouldn't be completely satisfied or even remotely tired, like a normal human would be. And for some reason he always insisted on being intimate in the dark, with the lights off and the curtains closed, which struck you as odd too, for his physical appearance was not one to be ashamed of.

Another thing was that Sihtric has a tendency to suddenly sink his teeth in your skin whenever you were intimate, never drawing blood or piercing your flesh, but hard enough to leave a mark behind on your body that was more serious than a simple love bite. You also swore you saw his eyes glow every time you had sex, one a bright red and the other a piercing blue. It seemed so inhuman, but you told yourself it had to be a reflection of some sort which simply enhanced his heterochromia. And it often felt as if his nails became sharper during intercourse, leaving scratches all over your skin and tearing up the sheets as well, and he loved to drag his tongue over your body, which felt pleasantly smooth but sometimes larger than a human tongue could possibly be. Sihtric also loves to chase you around his house whenever you'd stay over, before capturing you and throwing you on his bed, where he'd fuck you like a feral beast for hours on end. 

He couldn't explain his needs and desires to you at the time, as he did not want to frighten you with the truth that he truly was a beast, and you just figured he was an intense lover. But once you knew the truth about him, everything just made sense. And as you were in love, you weren't necessarily frightened or worried, or even fully grasping the extent of what him being a werewolf meant. 

And you couldn't even begin to imagine the horrific sights you were to witness, or the terrible stories you would hear…

You walked hand in hand with Sihtric, over a lonely path that led through darkened woods you both knew all too well. The moon was waning, barely visible as she was almost renewed again. It was a quiet and late summer night, the air was mellow and you were dressed in a loose shirt and some shorts, while Sihtric wore a sleeveless top and long dark jeans. Most people were long asleep already, but you and Sihtric were a match made in heaven as you both enjoyed the dark and quietness after sunset, and with your werewolf lover by your side you felt as if you had nothing left to fear for.

Several weeks had passed since you had fully accepted your werewolf boyfriend, and you had never been more in love. But the horrors you were to face soon, as you strolled through the woods while stealing kisses and murmuring sweet nothings to each other in the dead of night as your hands were intertwined, were horrors you would never forget for as long as your heart would beat.

'You don't dare to say it,' you giggled as you moved swiftly between the thick trees, playfully running and hiding from your beloved, who would always find you with ease due to his werewolf senses. But that didn't make it any less fun for either of you.

'Yes, I do,' Sihtric laughed as he caught you in his strong arms, and he brought you down to the ground without flexing a single muscle.

He quickly climbed on top of you and leaned in, cupping your cheeks and softly nuzzling your nose lovingly, while his low chuckle made you lightheaded and your lips curled into a smitten smile. You smelled the earthy scent of the ground beneath you as you were pinned down by a man so much stronger than you, but Sihtric had you so enchanted that you didn't even care your clothes would become dirty or your hair messy, and you had never felt more safe than you did whenever your body was pressed against his.

'Then say it,' you quietly dared him again as your hands moved up in his long loose hair, and slowly raked through it to which he closed his eyes and smiled.

'I love you,' Sihtric whispered, lips faintly touching yours, 'I really do.'

Your breath hitched when you finally heard those words you had so dared him to speak, and you pulled him in, closing the last small distance that was left and your lips locked in the sweetest, yet most needy kiss possible.

'Say you love me,' Sihtric growled softly, smiling, and he gently headbutted you.

'I love you too,' you smiled and trailed your hands down his chest.

Sihtric dropped his head with a shy smile upon hearing you say it, overwhelmed with his feelings for you, which were of such force that it almost made it hard for him to breathe. But his bliss was only short lasting when he suddenly caught a scent, and he snapped his head up while his face was set serious and his mismatched eyes wide. He sat completely still, and you could see his ears wiggly faintly at something you couldn't hear.

'What?' you asked, confused while running your hands over his arms as you looked up at him, 'what is it?'

'The undead,' Sihtric said monotonically and perked up further.

'What?' you half laughed.

'The undead. I smell them.'

'Wait,' you chuckled nervously, 'you mean like… zombies?'

Sihtric scoffed lightly and shook his head.

'I wish it was zombies,' he said and pulled you up with him, 'but I mean vampires, love.'

Sihtric placed his hand on the small of your back, politely urging you to walk with him as he gradually increased his speed, wanting to bring you back home safely and far away from the scent that lingered in the air for him. But before you could make it out of the woods, you were already surrounded.

Sihtric's eyes darted over the pale and heartbeat-lacking creatures, his jaw clenched tightly while he held you in his arms and pressed firmly against him. You weren't all that up-to-date about werewolves and their rivals, but you knew like most people that vampires and lycanthropes never got along, and you clung onto your still human shaped boyfriend while one vampire stepped forward.

'Well, well,' the pale man laughed, 'a dog and it's human, and what an endearing pup you are!'

'What is it you want?' Sihtric cut to the point, 'because this is neutral ground, so there is no need for anyone to get harmed.'

'Well,' the master vampire scoffed, who looked old and ugly, 'your father killed my wife on neutral ground. So it is only fair if I return the favour and kill,' he paused and gestured at you, 'whatever she is to you.'

'I have nothing to do with what my father-'

'Ah!' the vampire exclaimed as he sniffed the air, ignoring Sihtric, 'such fresh human blood running through her veins, but sadly… not a virgin anymore. Oh, well,' the old vampire shrugged while the others grinned, 'I'll take her anyway. And sure, you may have nothing to do with your father, but you are still a werewolf of his tribe.'

'I'm not part of his tribe!' Sihtric hissed, 'I created my own.'

'But you're all the same, are you not?' the vampire spoke slowly as he crept closer, 'sneaking into houses at night… waking up defenceless mothers… asking if you can take their child away… and in their hazy and disorientated state they might just give their permission, and that's another snack earned easily, no? And, oh, how you wolves hypnotise those children, as well as the cattle of the same poor family, with just your gazes. And for what? For thinking the curse could be broken? Such foolish dogs you are…'

You listened carefully and shivered at the ideas the ancient one bestowed. You looked up at Sihtric, whose face did all but ease your fright that he could be a monster such as described. Sihtric looked away from you, as if ashamed, and he only swallowed hard in response to your gaze while he looked down at his feet. The vampire became aware of your horror, and was entertained at the idea that you would most likely be disgusted with your partner now, and he laughed.

'Oh, does she not know?' he asked Sihtric, darkly amused, 'does she also not know how you attacked the very first human you encountered in your wolf form, after your first transition? Or the other thing you have done to try and break your curse, hm? Because I know all about you, Sihtric Kjartansson, and I could tell your lovely lady here all about you.'

Sihtric suddenly snarled, and you flinched at the guttural sound as he held you protectively in his arms.

'Don't!' Sihtric bared his teeth at the vampire, 'don't you dare-'

'This beast,' the vampire mocked Sihtric and looked at you, 'has attacked numerous pregnant women in his life, yes, yes. For those silly Danish werewolves all believe that if they were to eat a fresh male foetus, thus slicing open a poor lady's womb with a single scratch of their claw to obtain the unborn child, their curse would be broken.'

You felt dizzy and sick to your stomach while the vampire snickered. You had no response, you only stared intently and quietly at the master, wishing that his words were all just lies and that Sihtric would never do such a monstrous thing or believe such a horrible superstition. And you felt Sihtric's chest heave up and down as he fought his urge to shift, while a roaring anger boiled inside of him and his arms around you became tighter, almost suffocating.

Sihtric never meant to hide his blooddrenched past from you, but it was something he was deeply ashamed of and knew it would most likely scare you away from him. He wanted to tell you everything about him, but in time. You had only just gotten used to the fact that he was a werewolf, and he intended on easing you into the awful secrets of his past, but now a truly dark page of his life was suddenly exposed to you. His early days as a young werewolf had been confusing, violent and bloody, as he had tried everything he possibly could to undo his first transformation. No matter how horrific it was, Sihtric tried everything, he even tried to undo his werewolf being by converting to Christianity at some point.

'And… did it work, wolf boy?' the elder snickered, 'killing those harmless women and eating their children?'

'Would you like to find out? You filthy fucking bloodsucker!' Sihtric threatened, and the vampires began to close in rapidly.

Sihtric shoved you behind him, and he bared his teeth at the vampires before he told you to run.

'Run and don't look back, whatever you hear,' he urged and gave you a light push, 'run home, and don't invite anyone in who might show up at your door.'

'I… I-,' you stammered, visibly shaking and still in shock after everything that had just happened, but Sihtric cut you off before you could say anything else.

'Run! Now!' he growled, and you did as you were told.

You turned and ran as fast as you possibly could to exit the woods, but when you heard the sudden sound of clothes being ripped at the seams and the awful sound of bones snapping, you stopped running. You turned to face Sihtric again while you were at a distance, and what you then witnessed couldn't be anything other than a nightmare. You saw how your boyfriend grew and ripped out of his clothes, and you heard his bones snap as he deformed and fell down on all fours. You watched and heard him grunt and growl, while every muscle in his body contracted until a sudden thick coat of fur appeared on his bare back and his face changed into that of a monstrous being. Your eyes grew wide at the horrific sight of the half man-half wolf, who had told you he loved you only moments ago. And you felt sick at the sight of his blooded claws and those sharp teeth, remembering how he had used those to devour humans and cattle with. Those same hands that had caressed you and those same teeth he had dragged over your naked body, only so carefully and full of love, unlike what he had used them for on others.

You saw how Sihtric got up on his back legs, being twice his human size and towering over the vampires like an optical illusion. His muscular torso was still recognisable, even with the thin layer of black fur covering it now. And he was a… a beast. A foul creature of the night! And yet he still had enough human traits that you recognised your boyfriend in the murderous animal in the distance. You opened your mouth as you wanted to scream at the terrifying sight, but no sound ever left your throat as you watched the horror unfold while you were nailed to the ground.

The vampires had long forgotten about you, they'd rather slaughter a werewolf than drink the blood of a polluted human who had slept with their enemy. And you then heard Sihtric's deafening and bone chilling howl echoing through the dark night as he threw his head back, and he raised his massive arms and began to swing at the vampires who dared to take their chance. You heard the nauseating sound of claws ripping through flesh and the splattering of blood against the thick trees, and the sight of limbs being ripped and torn off was a terror you would never forget, while the bone crunching sound of it made you fall to your knees, and you retched as you began to cry.

And after you had witnessed half of the vampire massacre, which seemed to happen in slow motion while in reality it all went so fast, Sihtric snapped his head towards you, and he snarled loudly at you before he was jumped by the remaining vampires. His snarl was so heavy and frightening that it rumbled through the air and made you jump up, and you began to run again as fast as your legs allowed. And as the tears rolled down your face while you ran, you covered your ears upon hearing what sounded like a dog wince and cry in pain. You knew the heartbreaking noise came from Sihtric, but you were too afraid to look back, so you ran home…

You weren't sure how much time had passed after you had reached your home and locked the doors behind you with blind panic. You only remembered running upstairs, to your bedroom, where you threw up and fainted once you sat down on your bed, not having closed your bedroom window.

You were woken up sometime later, the sky outside still dark while the streets were quiet, and you slightly raised your head up when a sudden sense of dread alarmed you. You held your breath once you caught a foul whiff of the smell of blood and flesh, and you slowly turned to face the nightmare that stood in your room, which had climbed in through your window and had shredded your curtains. You cowered at the shadowy sight of your werewolf boyfriend towering over you as he stood at the end of your bed, and you began to cry for help. Sihtric then whined and backed off, throwing his large, hairy and clawed hands up to show you he meant no harm, but he also understood you were terrified of him as you hid your face behind your hands while you muttered something that sounded like a prayer.

Sihtric was too ashamed to shift back to his human form, he couldn't possibly face you as himself, but he knew he also couldn't keep his current shape. So he crouched down and, out of your sight, shifted from his horrible werewolf figure into that of a large black coated wolf. He then carefully moved closer and climbed on your bed. You yelped and flinched at his first touch; a light headbutt to your shoulder to gain your attention, and you then slowly lowered your hands and saw the monster was no longer there anymore. Instead, there was a beautiful big black wolf staring at you, with the big and recognisable mismatched puppy dog eyes of the man you loved, and a calming sensation seemed to wash over you.

You sniffled and backed away at first when you felt his tongue wipe away your tears, but you believed he meant well and allowed him to come closer again. Sihtric headbutted you once more, lovingly, and he then wrapped his front legs around you and pushed you to lay down. You turned to face him, and you couldn't stop yourself from grabbing onto his thick fur and burying your face in it as you began to cry again. 'Sihtric,' was all you could whisper, to which he whined softly. Sihtric was heartbroken to see you like this and knowing he was the cause of it all, and he pulled you in closer with his paws. He used his big, soft and bushy black tail as a security blanket, enveloping you whole while he held you tightly wrapped in his front legs, with his big fluffy wolf head resting on top of yours.

You were safe.

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#sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #the last kingdom #sihtric kjartansson #sihtric #tlk #sihtric fic #the last kingdom fic #werewolf #werewolf fic #werewolf au #sihtric au #tlk au #horror fic #horror

[lolitaa-17]

Meaningless?

Toji x reader drabble angst lol.

"Well what are we?"

That question, how Toji hated it. He was never the type to do labels, ever since his ex wife had passed.

"How many times did I tell you to stop asking me that dumbass question y/n?"

He got up from the bed leaving you there alone.

"Well it would be nice to know? You act like you love-"

"Get out." He huffed while putting his clothes back on. He hated that too. He hated that word. Love. He felt as if he wasn't capable of loving ever since his ex wife had died.

You couldn't stop the tears from falling, it had been a very emotional week and this was definitely one way to end it.

"Well then stop fucking calling my phone!" You slapped his chest before walking out of his room.

You walked pass his son who was around 12, he definitely knew the troubled situation you had been put in with his dad.

"Y/n..." you stopped your tracks as you heard Megumi mutter your name. You wiped your tears quickly and put up a smile.

"Hmm?" you asked him keeping an eye out to see if his dad had been coming.

"I'm sorry, for my dad he's still-" He tries to apologize for his dad.

"You don't need to apologize for him, I still like you don't worry" you mess his hair up.

"What about my dad? Do you still love him? I don't want you to leave."

Oh how this had made the situation worse, you loved children. Seeing Megumi going through this at such a young age broke your heart even more.

"I don't know, but I really have to leave-"

"Please don't y/n, it gets lonely here." you could see the tears threatening to fall from the young boys eyes.

You kneeled down to his level and gave him a big hug while crying even harder. "I'm sorry." you whispered in his ear before getting back up to leave.

-

Toji pov

He noticed how your footsteps abruptly stopped, And how the front door hadn't open yet.

Megumi had probably stopped you. So he quietly walked out to see what you two had possibly been whispering about.

"What about my dad? Do you still love him? I don't want you to leave."

Those words ached his heart, but it hurt even more listening to your response.

"I don't know."

Seeing the moment you two had shared lit something up within Toji, he never was home. Always busy with work, but you were more than happy to watch Megumi whenever Toji asked. He didn't realize how much of an impact you were to Megumi.

Seeing the vacant look on his sons face once you walked out, it had changed something in Megumi. When he turned to look at his father. It was a cold expressionless look on his face.

No words were exchanged but he could tell that Megumi was the least of happy right now.

-

"Eat your food Megumi, how many days has it been since you've actually eaten." Toji placed the plate of food in front of his face.

"I don't need a Nanny. I'm old enough to watch myself after school you know that right." Megumi muttered while playing with his food.

"Well what's with the sudden switch up? When y/n-"

"Y/n wasn't a nanny." Megumi cut him off.

Toji furrowed his brows, this attitude that was suddenly being brought out of Megumi.

"She actually cared about me, about us." And with that Megumi got up and left the full plate and walked over to his room where he had always been locking himself up ever since you left.

-

Your pov

You cried, drank and slept late.

That was your schedule after work, everyday the same thing. Toji made you feel so loved, yet he claimed he doesn't feel anything towards you.

It was your final straw with him, you had blocked his number and all of his socials. Maybe it was childish, but he's made you feel like this one too many times.

-

Tojis pov

He hated to admit that he had to move on from his diseased wife, and making you feel that way because of his feeling wasn't right. He loved you. He would do anything. He just can't, it feels wrong to betray his ex wife.

But even Megumi, his own son. He was ready to move on. Megumi loves you just as much as Toji loves you.

*knock*

He enters his sons room. He heard the small sniffles coming from Megumi. It shattered Toji's heart. "What's wrong Megumi, talk to me please."

"Leave me alone." Megumi scoffed.

"Megumi just tell me please." Toji sighed sitting on Megumi's bed.

"She made me feel how Mama made me feel, and you just push her away when all she was doing was treating us like real family." Megumi kept his gaze away from Toji.

He clenched his jaw. Stopping himself from wanting to cry. All he could do is get up and leave Megumi's room into his own.

He dialed and dialed but straight to voicemail. He couldn't help but slam his phone against the floor leaving it shattered. The tears slowly start fall.

He took advantage, you would always tell him you were done with his bullshit but you never actually really wanted to leave him. Excpet this time, blocking him on everything you possibly had.

Toji wasn't one to give up though. He grabbed his car keys and made his way out the door.

-

Your pov

It was thunder storming. You had the windows open, the small yellow tinted lights on, and a big glass of wine in hand.

You knew this cycle of drinking had to stop soon, it wasn't healthy nor cheap. But it was a way to escape from that feeling that lingers onto you every time you leave Toji's house crying.

A loud knock echoed your apartment.

You open your door to see Toji soaked in water and gasping for air. His face was written in such a saddened look. You weren't really used to it.

"What are you doing here?" You slurred your words as you put the wine bottle down on a counter next to you.

"Are you drunk?" Toji asked.

"Toji...what are you doing here."

"You're coming with me." He grabbed your wrist.

"You are not taking me anywhere, because whatever was going on with us is over. So goodbye Toji."

"No it's not y/n...Because i fucking need you." Toji's voice cracked as his tears were threatening to fall again seeing the type of state he left you in.

"We need you, Megumi needs you more than anything."

"And I want you to stay there, with me and Megumi for the rest of our lives. Because I love you and I want you to be the one to care for us and love us."

"Toji I-"

"Fuck y/n...I'll even put a fucking ring onto your finger and marry you!" He cries out leaning in to embrace you.

-

"Y/n!" Megumi jumps onto you and his dad when he saw you in the room. It was the morning after Toji's confession. You went with him hoping things he said were actually meaningful.

"I missed you so much." he hugged you tightly.

"I missed you wayyy more." You laugh and hug him even tighter.

"Wait here!" Megumi ran out the room shutting the door leaving you and Toji alone again.

"I'm sorry...for everything I put you through." Toji hugged you tightly and kissed your head.

"I love you...fiance." He whispers the last part.

"I love you too." He kisses you more passionately and meaningfully than usual.

"Here is breakfast in bed!" Megumi brings in a big bowl of cereal and a cup of orange juice.

"Only for y/n though because you don't really deserve one yet dad." He places the bowl of cereal next to you and lays down Between you and Toji.

You laughed at his savage side comment, while Toji scoffed.

"I love you though, both of you." Megumi murmured.

#drabble #toji x reader #toji fushiguro #jjk angst #jjk toji #fushiguro toji #jjk megumi #megumi fushiguro

[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

[fieldofdaisiies]

Azriel x Reader | Scared to Be Lonely

type: angst (fluffy towards the end) warning(s): childhood abuse, trauma, nightmares word count: 2k words request: Hello! Can you please write something where Az has a nightmare about what his half brothers did to him and the reader, who is his mate, comforts him?

- all rights reserved -

"Let's see how good the little bastard's healing powers are, shall we?" Gorzan sneers, Scorf holding his shoulders tightly, pressing his back against his chest. Azriel’s wings are squeezed between both their bodies and he winced loudly, hastily looking between his two step-brothers.

“Let me go!” young Azriel babbles and tries to wiggle out of his brother’s hold.

"Shut up, bastard!" Scorf snarls, twisting Azriel’s arm and pressing harder against his wing which makes Azriel cry out loudly, a few tears rolling down his eyes.

He watches Gorzan unscrew a bottle of oil, wiggling his brows when he nears the young boy and pours the thick liquid over his hands – the last time Azriel has them seen without the scars.

Everything after that becomes a blur – there are flames, fire and pain. So much pain. So much unbearable unimaginable pain. The skin feels hot, then cold, then both things at the same time. The skin ripped open, the fire crawling inside his skin, his body, his veins.

"Please, don't...please, father I beg you-" A harsh slap lands on young Azriel's face, icy-heat breaking out on his skin. A sob dies down in Azriel’s throat, his vision blurry with tears. He can here faint laughter of his step-mother, the cackling of Scorf, the sneering of Gorzan. 

Darkness settles over Azriel when he is once again locked into the cell in the cellar - the dungeon.

Azriel’s whole body shudders when she jolts up in bed, sitting up straight and clutching the damp sheets to his chest. His skin feels clammy with his sweat, his heart racing in his chest when Azriel shakes. Air wheezes in and out of his lungs, hands trembling, and so does his lower lip. His throat burns with a scream, feels dry and like sandpaper when swallowing. The shadowsinger does not know if he has screamed in his sleep, only that his chest aches, so does his soul and his heart. 

Azriel knows he has to calm down. He does not want to wake you. Does not want you to have to deal with this again.

He tries to focus on anything, the pile of clothes on his desk, the moonlight reflecting of the opposite wall, the edge of the bed, the—

Warm hands cradle the shadowsinger’s face, turning his head so he looks at you. Your expression is shocked, sad, panicked, although you try so very heard to look calm. You don’t want him too see how much it hurts you when he hurts, but your expression gives you away. Your thumbs brush over his damp cheeks when you pull him closer to you.

“Azriel, it was just a nightmare. Please, calm down. It was a nightmare. It is not real. Not anymore. It lays in the past.” It is always the same dream. Has always been. When you started dating, even before the bond had clicked, Azriel has had these nightmares. They got less over the time of your relationship, but that does not mean they no longer happen at all. 

There are still nights where he is haunted by them, where all the memories flood his mind, where every small wound is ripped open again. Where the pain is just as strong as in those moments. Sometimes even stronger, because it is the mental pain that hurts much more than the physical one. 

“It is alright. They are not here. They cannot hurt you anymore. You are safe, Azriel. You are safe with me.” 

The blood rushes Azriel’s ears, his knees feel shaky, feet numb, heels pressing into the mattress. Azriel's heart has fallen into his gut, fire blazing through his veins. Just like fire all those years ago. Azriel’s head jerks slightly at the memory and he huffs, clenching his jaw and squeezing his eyes shut. His heart hammers against his rib cage, in his throat, and he tries so very hard to focus on everything else but the nightmare, the memories. He tries to focus on you, on you only, sitting in front of him, in your nightgown, so beautiful.

You pull Azriel closer so his forehead is touching yours. You draw in a deep breath, urging him to do the same. He has to calm, and he has to steady his heartbeat and his breathing. Azriel shudders against you when he brings his hands up, lowers them again and places them on your bare thighs, his finger tips slipping underneath your short nightgown. He curls his fingers around your thighs, holding on tightly, steadying himself. He needs to tell himself that you are here, he is safe with you, you are protecting him.

“Sorry,” the spymaster shudders but only squeeze him.

“Azriel,” you whisper and bump his nose with yours. “It was a nightmare. Don not apologise.”

He knows that. Of course he does, but whenever the pictures flash in front of his vision, in his mind, Azriel finds himself as a young boy again. Helpless, worthless, scared, hurt. He feels so little again, so weak, so hopeless. Because back then there was no hope. There was nothing to hope for in those nights spent in the cold, moldy dungeon where his only friends where the shadows – his protectors, his saviours, his family. “I know.” The shadowsinger exhales a shuddering breath, his shadows crawling over his shoulders, soothingly brushing over his damp skin. For such a long time it has always only been them who brought him peace and comfort. But since he has has you, there is something much stronger in his life that brings him comfort and peace in the darkest times. 

“Thank you,” Azriel breaths and tips his head back a little. He kisses the corner of your mouth before pressing his skin against yours. “It is so good to have you.” His breath his warm on your skin. You move one hand into his hair, softly scratching his scalp. “Want to lie down on me?”

You feel him smile —a tiny, weak smile— against your face before he dips his chin, the stubble on his jaw brushing slightly rough on your cheek. Shifting on the bed, you lift the sheets from your body, making space for the shadowsinger. “Come here.” Azriel also shifts on the bed, but before he crawls over to you he gives his head a little shake. “I will go bathe first, I am quite sweaty and I don’t—“ “Care at all. Come here, my love.” Now the smile on his face is more convincing, a little wider and warmer. Azriel does as told, he moves over on the bed, dragging his wings after him when caging you underneath his tall figure. The shadowsinger wraps his arms around your torso, one leg nudged between your thighs, his face in the crook of your neck. 

He releases a relieved sigh when he draws in your scent, peace and security reaching him through the bond.

“Wouldn’t be the first time that your are sweaty on top of me, huh?” you chuckle lightly and wipe your hand over your mate’s face. Azriel kisses your shoulder and also releases a tiny chuckle. 

“Other times the situation is different.” “But the sweat is the same. And I really don’t care.” Lifting you head a little, you lean forward and kiss your mate’s forehead. Your lips brush his when a warm, and something like summer breeze, feeling reaches your through the bond. You know he has calmed a little by now, his chest no longer hammering so frantically against his ribcage. He is still not fully at ease, it always takes a while, but he is a one good way. Also the shadows around his body seem calmer, now stroking over his skin in big, idle circles. Your brush on hand, that you have freed, over the shadowsinger’s back, nails scratching slightly as he loves this. You also brush over the places where the wings are attached to Azriel’s back, also a little further up over the leathery membrane, but never touching the sensitive parts. This would be wholly out of place right now and you don’t at all deem it appropriate, so soothing scratches it is. 

“We can talk about it, you know,” you whisper after a long moment of peaceful silence. Azriel shifts slightly, uncurling one hand from around you. He brushes it up your torso and slides it into your nightgown, cupping your left breast in his large hand. “Need to feel your heartbeat, yes?” You giggle slightly, and dip your chin when Azriel visibly relaxes more, his figure no longer so stiff and rigid. 

It is something Azriel has done from every early on, somehow syncing his heart with yours. And it helps. It helps him so much. 

“We have talked about it so many times, I don’t want to—“

“And I have told you so many times that you don’t bother me with it. You want to talk about it, we talk about it. You don’t want to, we don’t.”

Azriel releases air through his nose and kisses your shoulder again, squeezing you to him, his hand still under your gown. “I think I don’t want to talk about it. It was just the same dream again, my brothers and then the…dungeon. Nothing new. I just want to lay here, alright?” “That is fine,” you say again his head and his kiss hair, your hand brushing from your back up to his neck, to his hair. Your uncurl some strands, tugging lightly on them and twirling them around your fingers. “Should we cut them again soon? Or are you trying to go for a Cassian-like hair style?” you mumbled and finally Azriel laughs — warm and convincing. 

“Can’t do that to Cass, we both know I would look so much better.” You have to laugh, too, tugging a little harder on one strand. “We better not let Cassian know that, but you are right. I mean, I don’t think it is possible you get even more beautiful, but it might be the case. And I really don’t want to have to fight off more drooling females.”

Azriel huffs loudly and has to chuckle. “My territorial mate, huh?”

You manage to shrug one shoulder and Azriel says, “But you know that you are included in the drooling females?” “I don't drool!” you protest, actually knowing that drooling is totally what you do.

“I’ll remind you of that the next time I stand naked in front of you.” This slight cockiness that returns to him now…gods you love it. And it is so good that he is becoming more himself now again, no longer wrapped in the thoughts of his pasts, haunted by the memories. 

“As if you don’t drool when your see my boobies,” you giggled and brush your chin against him. Azriel lifts his head slightly, turns and looks up at your. He smiles, warm and bright and meets your gaze. “I totally drool when I see you naked, every time actually, but I also did never deny that.” With that being clarified, Azriel kisses your cleavage, then pampers it in tiny pecks and lies back down. 

“Thank you for being there for me,” Azriel says after a moment of silence. You blink your eyes open, sleep has started to overcome you. A yawn parts your lips and you mumble, “Nothing to thank me fore. I am always here for you, no matter what. Not because I am your mate, but because I love you. More than anything else in this world.”

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

tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @cityofidek @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeriedarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123

#azriel x reader #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar x reader #acotar #acosf

[dotster001]

Found Chapter Two

Requested by @somany-fandoms-solittle-time

Summary:Lilia x gn!reader. Now that you've been reunited, Lilia is forced to remember how hard it is to care for you. But he's not the only one starting to remember....

A/N: hopefully y'all enjoy this, cause I have a whole series idea for this 😁

3k celebration masterlist

Part One

You were dreaming.  You were the maid to a queen, and you were watching what looked like a court case.

"You're nothing more than a tyrant!"

You and your fellow maids all stiffened and murmured amongst yourselves. This stranger from who knows where dared to speak to your queen that way? Didn't she know how dangerous that was? People were beheaded for less in this kingdom!

The queen's face turned beat red as she prepared to issue a sentence, and a loud one at that.

Before you could hear it, you were hit with a dizzy spell, and sharp pain in your stomach.

"Louisa," the maid next to you looked concerned, "do you need to sit down? Did you take your potion today?"

"I'm fine," you groaned, but still felt yourself smile.

"OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!"

All the maids nodded. This was the expected verdict.

You looked down at your ring with the fuchsia gem, and smiled through the stomach pain. Everything would be alright.

….

Lilia couldn't keep his eyes off you. He was so happy you were here and alive, but damn, he was so nervous you'd vanish.

It wasn't too long before he caught the whole story. That you were from another planet or dimension and just…showed up. He supposed it made sense why he hadn't seen you in so long. You were somewhere outside of his reach. He could only imagine how lonely it had been. If it was anything like what he'd gone through, it was a horribly painful existence. Going lifetime to lifetime without the man you'd bonded your soul too. His heart broke thinking about it.

"Father? Is everything alright?"

He was snapped out of his thoughts by Silver's concerned whisper. He'd been staring at you again.

"Mm. Yes, I'm alright," he took a bite of his lunch to prove it, which did little to assuage his sweet boy, but he still nodded and looked at his own lunch.

"That's Diasomnia," he heard from Trey Clover, who had been telling you all about the other dorms.

He rattled off a couple more insignificant facts about the thorn fairy, some of them incorrect, much to Lilia's amusement.

Then he saw the red headed freshman playfully bump shoulders with you.

"I gotta take care of something," he said to his lunch table, before poofing over to yours.

"Were you talking about me?" He giggled as you shrieked at his upside down form that had materialized between the two of you.

You took a moment to catch your bearings.

"What the actual fuck," you breathed.

"I heard you talking about Diasomnia, and me, and my young Lord so I thought I'd join the fun."

"You heard all that?" The red headed freshman asked incredulously.

Lilia turned to him, feeling the joy drain from his eyes, that is, until the freshman shivered. Then Lilia had some sick glee return to him

The conversation continued casually, you pretty silent for most of it, Eventually, he figured continuing the conversation with you would do nothing. At least with an audience. He had a whole year, probably longer, considering the headmage was useless. He had time to reconnect with you.

After popping back to his own table, grinning like a lovesick fool, he was met with Silver and Sebek's concerned gazes.

"What? It's fun to prank the freshman, fu fu fu!" He laughed. They both shared a glance before shrugging and continuing dinner in peace. 

….

"Did you hear? Housewarden Rosehearts overblotted."

The murmurs were all over the school, and Lilia wanted to kick himself. Of course you'd get into trouble. You always did. Even in a world where the mortality rate was so low, you somehow were so hard to keep alive! 

"Sevens, Y/N, why is it so hard to hold onto you?" He whispered to himself, as he watched you wander the school with your two freshmen friends.

He didn't have time to think too hard about it before,

"Lilia!"

"Fa-Lilia! Lord Malleus is-"

"SILVER HAS ALLOWED OUR LORD TO GO MISSING AGAIN!"

He sighed inwardly, before throwing a final glance your way. If you ever did remember your past lives, he would definitely ask if this is what you wanted when you both talked about the family you were going to start. Not that he'd trade it for anything, but it felt unfair that you were getting out of all the hard work.

….

"Their next target is Malleus Draconia."

Malleus had a tendency to never actually be informed about housewarden things, but the one time someone actually came looking for him, Lilia selfishly decided to take the meeting himself.

Only to be told that his boy was likely to be the target of the Savannaclaw Housewarden at tomorrow's event.

"That's a rather large accusation, prefect."

Of course he believed you. But he wanted to hear your voice again. Keep you talking to him. Keep your eyes on him. He simultaneously felt like dirt, but also like the happiest man to ever exist.

"But it's true!" You cried. "He's been taking people down with his signature spell for weeks now."

Lilia leaned back, pretending to think. Not that the thorn fairy's general had to actually think twice about that. He just…needed to stare at you for a moment.

"I have an idea," he muttered. "That is, if you're willing to listen."

You nodded, and he did his best to hold back a grin.

….

"Pearce." His voice whispered in the darkness.

After months of taking the night shift to guard him, you'd learned to pick up his emotions from his voice, and the shimmer of his glowing pink eyes. This was a new one though. If you had to guess, it was a mix between desperation and fear. 

"Evening," you said, trying not to let this deter you.

"Pearce."

"What's wrong?" You said, giving into morbid curiosity.

"Run away with me."

You stiffened.

"Li-"

You heard shifting, and his hands were cupping your face, his face slightly more illuminated, but features still obscured.

"How long have you been able to-"

"These ropes could never hold me. Pearce, run away with me. The queen's army is coming to the castle. If I'm there to let them in, great. If I'm not, they'll just double their forces. They're all going to die either way. But at least we could-"

You cupped his cheeks and softly kissed him. He stiffened before returning the kiss. Softly. Tenderly.

You separated and pressed your forehead to his, closing your eyes so that you couldn't see the heartbreak in his.

"I can't."

"Don't say that," you heard him choke on his words, as he clutched your face harder.

"You have a duty to your people, I have one to mine. I swore to protect my king. And if I have to die to fulfill my oath-"

"Stop."

"-then I'll die happy."

"Y/N! Wake up!"

You groaned as Grim slapped your face with his soft paws. 

"What? What time is it?"

"We gotta help those Diasomnia guys, remember?"

"Right," you sat up and rubbed your eyes blearily. 

On top of the already weird dreams about lions, now you were having some weird fantasy tragedy dream. Although, that story sounded interesting. If you remembered the dream later, you'd have to write it down and write a book or something.

"Why would they want to go over the plan so early in the day?" You groaned again

….

"Malleus Draconia is twice the king you will ever be!"

"Lilia, shut up," he heard you whisper. Of course it would be your voice snapping him back to reality. He'd lived a long time, but he'd only ever witnessed one overblot. If the ink rising in the air was anything to go by, Kingscholar was about to be the second one he witnessed.

Why did he just say that? Was it because of his love for his adopted son? His anger at the injustices done on the students? The need to show off so you could see how cool he was?

"Vanrouge!" Housewarden Rosehearts snapped. "Go get the headmage."

He watched Riddle pull his pen. He should really stay. This was partially his fault. And it was so damn hard to keep you alive…

"Lilia, please, we need backup," you pleaded. Sevens, those eyes. He'd kill for those eyes.

He nodded and poofed away, praying he was back fast enough to ensure you stayed alive.

….

He was always terrified when he saw you sleeping, no matter what life time it was. He'd seen you stop breathing far too many times, so it was always the first thing he looked for; the tell tale slow filling of your lungs.

Of course it hadn't been the overblot that had put you here. It would be something as simple as a disc to the head.

"Enjoying the view?" You croaked as you slowly woke up, causing him to snicker.

"I wanted to apologize, but you were preoccupied."

"Is preoccupied the medical term for a concussion?" You winced.

He laughed, a boisterous laugh that he hadn't released for several generations.

When he'd calmed himself momentarily, you sat up a bit, and gave him a soft smile.

"You don't need to apologize. I get it, you were upset that he was insulting your friend."

Friend? He could burst into a fit of laughter all over again. He supposed, you did believe he was a normal college student, so friend would be the accurate word for him and Malleus. Normally.

"Uh, yeah," he said, fighting back another laugh. "Still, I swear I'm far more intelligent than that normally."

He was really trying so hard to dig himself out of this hole.

"It's college. You're allowed to be a dumbass from time to time."

He bit his lip as he nodded. Was it truly unethical to just tell you everything? To just tell you you were supposed to be with him because you always used to be? To tell you that he was far older than anyone you'd ever met? That you were far older?

It would be unethical.  You had to make your own choices, unimpaired by him. He just had to have faith that you'd choose him. He had no reason to believe otherwise! You'd always chosen him before.

Why should it be different this time around?

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst lilia #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia x reader #lilia vanrouge

[wontontrap]

Fast & Loud | 18+

90s Eddie with a goth raver

AU where they won and everything is normal 🥲

This is my first smut, enjoy! ♥

Word count 2.6k

TW: rough sex, choking, manhandling, semi-public sex, hallucinogenic drug use (descriptions of uncomfortable trip symptoms), unprotected sex (fuck responsibly irl folks), mentions of knife play, mentions of gangbanging, mentions of human sacrifice

Middle of nowhere and fucked in the back of a van by the Hawkins Cult Killer. Yet she was the dangerous one.

♰ smut under the cut ♰

Once the charges of '86 were dropped, everyone wanted to see Corroded Coffin live, and every girl with a bad boy fetish wanted to fuck the Hawkins Cult Killer.

Eddie was a lover at heart, and it took him a while to get used to the women who wanted it violent. He retired his handcuff belt a few years ago. It both aged him and made him look kitsch, but he realized now that the past groupies who complimented him on his belt leaned towards the more macabre ways in the bedroom.

He remembers the night a bombshell blonde asked him to put his bowie knife to her throat in the back of the van. She was completely bare with a body like a playboy centerfold. Sick in the head with the wettest pussy he'd ever been in. He came quick that night, railing her hard. It was absolute abuse. He never played dangerous games in the bedroom again but when he was alone at night, or when he was having trouble finishing with a partner, he'd remember it. It always made him wonder if he was really the terrible person everyone still thought he was.

He eventually tired of the women who asked him and the other band members to sacrifice them, gangbang them, or worse. He quit the music scene and dissolved the band in 1990, after four years of touring the small circuit. They could've been big, but he hated to be thought of that way - to sell out in that way. To sell his soul he worked so hard to save, that others had laid their lives and reputations on the line to protect. He took the money from the two years of touring and bought he and his uncle a real home, allowing Wayne to retire early. He took a respectable job at a local factory and even joined the union.

It was now 1994 and the metal scene was almost non-existent. It had been choked out by the monotonous drone of the grunge era and something called nu-metal was beginning to seep into the zeitgeist. Cobain was gone and labels scrambled to fill the Nirvana void. Some months ago, Eddie received a phone call from someone claiming to be a label scout wanting to discuss rebranding Corroded Coffin to "Corroded", and dampening their sound. He impolitely declined.

There was one new genre that Eddie didn't mind.

Trance.

House.

The music played at raves. It was fast and loud like metal. Booming base and intricate electronic melodies reminding him of the solos he used to play on stage. The more illegal the venue, the better. He loved to lurk within them, a wallflower. The drugs were free, and the people were freer. Tonight he drove all the way to downtown Indianapolis. A large abandoned building in the old coal district.

No one was ever watching the door at these things. He made his way up to the main entrance and heard a hushed toned behind him say, "Do you think that's really him?"

A much harsher but just as hushed tone responded, “You'd think he’d at least change his look. Sad really. How obvious.”

He was used to still being a pariah back home, but hearing that interaction made him feel a moment of deep despondency. Still, he persisted through the crowd, finding the perfect spot to smoke the rest of his cigarettes while feeling the deep base within his chest. He was incredibly lucky to have found another genre as cleansing to him as his first love of metal.

He scanned the dance floor, raves being a perfect place for so-called people watching. His eyes fixated on a young woman dancing atop a metal platform. medium height and black hair dressed in a leather skirt and corset. Already she had his attention. The sleeves of her cropped sweater were torn to shreds, held together by a scattering of safety pins and her torso was somewhat exposed, the corset putting her chest on full display for him. She had on the darkest of makeup, and her hair was gathered into two small buns, chopped up bangs framing her doll-like eyes. She looked liked something out of a corner store comic book, he thought. Her movements were quick and fluid and the flashing lights matching each beat gave the illusion that with each new sound she was magically in a new position.

She was entirely his type. The industrial gothic style reminded him of the metal babes he enjoyed so much back in the day.

She noticed him noticing her. And after a few glances she began to stare at him. He felt exposed somehow and turned his eyes away. He began looking for a path out of the crowd.

She jumped from the platform, jogging over to him. She grabbed his arm and called out “Wait, I know you!"

He turned to face her.

"You're Eddie Munson. You were Corroded Coffin's guitarist. She says with a smile, "I'd know that face anywhere.”

He responds with a crooked smile, bringing his nearly spent cigarette to his lips and taking a final drag. He flattens it between his thumb and forefinger as he begins to answer her, "Listen, you're not one of those-"

"I'm not a true crime groupie," she says, "I swear. I just recognized you from your band. I saw you play in ’89."

“Granted,” she begins again, “I used to dream about that face between my legs."

She laughed now, a bit awkwardly, which he thought was adorable.

He stays silent, letting his eyes do his talking. He scans her body from her cleavage, to her hips, hugged by that poor excuse for a leather skirt, and back up to those bright eyes.

She smiled ever so sweetly at him before saying, "Don't take this the wrong way, but you look lonely. I can fix that."

He watched as she carefully placed a small tab of ecstasy on her tongue.

"Take this" she said, cupping his face in her hands.

She pulled his face to hers and he immediately opened in submission to her kiss. He hadn't tripped in some time, and there was no better time than now. This dark beauty already so down for him. When she pulled away he felt the tab begin to dissolve on his tongue, bitter and electric. She placed a different colored tab on her own and took his hand, leading him to dance.

His tolerance for harder drugs had diminished now that he was practicing the art of the upstanding citizen, rather than the depraved rockstar. In only minutes, the music began to muffle in his ears and his arms and legs began to grow heavy with tingling in his fingers and toes starting to follow. He felt the sweet swell of his cock hardening as she moved her body against his. He was never much for dancing, so he stood there with his head thrown back, basking in the flashing lights. He was only her prop and he was enjoying it. She put his hands where she wanted them, moving them closer and closer to the band of her leather skirt. She was only teasing him before she turned around to face him. She wrapped her leg around his waist and leaned backwards, dipping herself almost to the ground. In a flash, she was now inches away from his face, hands on his chest.

She kissed him again, deep, and he responded in kind. She pulled away from him and took his hand. They threaded themselves carefully through the crowd as she led him out of the venue and into the field of parked cars.

"Where's yours?" she asked, breathlessly.

Eddie tried to get his bearings, the cool night air returning some semblance of coherent thought to his mind, but his whole body still throbbed with ecstasy. He sounded the van's alarm and they soon made their way to the rear doors. He opened them and ushered her into the back. Once inside he fumbled with the latch, the drug she'd slipped him now in full effect. In the enclosed space he began to breathe heavily, and flopped himself on a heap of nearby dusty blankets.

He felt as if he were cooking from the inside out, and he needed to touch himself. He shed his top layers before unzipping his jeans and wrapping his hand around his cock. He sighed in relief. He stroked himself and continued to sigh and hum.

"You sound so sweet, killer." he heard her say.

In his haze he'd forgotten she was there. He turned to find her laid on her stomach, ass up and moving it up and down slowly as her soaking wet cunt swallowed her fingers over and over again. Her heavy boots thrown into the corner, she hadn't taken off her fishnet stockings. Nothing was stopping her from delving her first two fingers into herself through the large holes. No panties, he thought.

In complete drug lust, he crawled over to her and tasted her. She removed her fingers, sighing deeply. She raised her body into a better position, giving him full access to her. He quickly brought her over the edge with his tongue while she let out the most gorgeous moans. She returned the favor in kind, swallowing his cock over and over again until her makeup ran from her doll eyes and he dripped from her chin. Still reeling from the X, he wasn't surprised he was ready to go again so soon. Those damn tights, he thought, as they laid bare her center. They were perfect for him to push right into her, but he couldn't help ripping them from her body.

“Has anyone ever told you,” she starts, “that you are the most beautiful color.”

He stares into her eyes, her blown pupils threatening to overtake those bright irises.

"You sound different than I feel,” he remarks.

"Because I didn't take X,” she says laughing, "I dropped acid."

"Brat", he rasps.

"What're you gonna do about it, killer?" She asks, undoing her corset and tossing it to the side. She gave him the greediest look.

He lifted her hips to his and easily pushed into her soaking wetness. He began a relentless pace.

“Such a sloppy cunt,” he told her.

"Such a sloppy, sloppy cunt for such a gorgeous, gorgeous girl.”

She mewled for him, reaching her hand down to rub her clit.

“You like to fuck criminals?” he asked her, “You like to fuck killers? That turn you on?”

His tone was reprimanding.

“No,” she replied, with a small giggle, “I like to fuck musicians.”

He cracked a smile then and pounded her even harder. She screamed and moaned and somehow wound up on top of him bouncing on his hard cock. She squeezed him hard like this, cumming with a small gush onto his pelvis. His rough hands played with her tits. Her cropped sweater was still on and without the corset it landed just at the swell of them. She leaned forward to grind against him as he continued to pound into her from below, both feet on the floor and back arched for leverage. She came again, shaking.

"Get on your knees for me,” he says.

She obliged him and once in position, he entered her again. With his pants still around his thighs, the metal of his belt made a rhythmic *clink* sound with each hard thrust, grazing the back of her thighs. He noticed when it did, she gave him an extra, more delicate moan. Just like all the rest of them, he thought.

The new position giving him better purchase, he continued to punish her sweet cunt the way she deserved. She showed him her appreciation by gushing again all over the van's carpet, while she screamed obscenities.

He leaned forward and whispered into her ear harshly, “Some mouth on you.”

She nuzzled into the side of his neck then, and he turned her face to his and kissed her deeply once more.

She let herself fall gently forward, rolling over, her legs still spread wide for him. He entered her more slowly this time, wrapping his hand around her neck and giving a small squeeze.

"This alright?" he asks, "You like this shit?"

She gave a small nod of approval before saying, "Do it, killer. Use me up."

At that, he relentlessly pounded her.

Through her loud whines and those mewls again, he asks, "You ever shut your mouth?"

"Shut it for me,” she snaps, and he continues his assault with one hand on her throat, and the other covering her mouth.

It's things like this that always did it for him, and he felt his end approaching. Quickly he pulled out of her and came on her still flushed chest. He continued to stroke his cock, riding out his own orgasm as his drug addled body shook and his brain drenched itself in every pleasure chemical. Below him, she reached her final orgasm by rubbing her swollen clit while looking him dead in the eyes.

Middle of nowhere and fucked in the back of a van by the Hawkins Cult Killer. Yet she was the dangerous one, he thought.

"Do you know what color you are?" she asks him, after a few moments of silence.

"Go on, tell me" he says, as he tucks himself back in.

Legs still spread, fingers ghosting over her sensitive cunt, she says "You're fire, killer. Fiery red, but sometimes you're all orange embers and black ash."

He had to get her out of here. The X threatening to creep up on him again. He didn't think she could take another round, not with what he'd want to do to her now that he'd tested her waters well beyond his imaginings.

The complete surprise of this night began to set in as she sat up to dress herself with what was left of her outfit. No, he could never settle for lackluster head at the edge of the dance floor again.

He intently watched her finish dressing, and immediately after she threw open the van's rear doors. The chilled air ran over him and he put his flannel back on before hopping out and lighting a fresh cigarette. He offered it to her and she took her fill before starting her walk back to the ongoing rave.

"Hey!" he called after her.

She turned around to face him.

"What's your name?"

"Miranda," she says, through that adorable laughter.

"Lemme see it one more time, Miranda.”

She leaned back on the hood of the car next to her, and spread her legs wide. No panties and no stockings now either. She teased him by spreading her pussy for him. He flicked his cigarette onto the ground, and crossed the space between them.

He dropped to his knees and gave her pussy the sloppiest kiss. Soon he was flicking his tongue over her clit while her cunt swallowed his fingers knuckle deep, stopping at his large rings. She shivered at the cold sensation each time.

“You ring so red!” she cried out.

She grabbed a handful of his curls and started to grind on his face. He removed his fingers from her and she heard the distinct sound of his belt being unbuckled. He stood up, cock ready once again. He grabbed her corset at the plunge and ripped it clean in half, revealing her tits to him again. She gasped at the action.

"That's better,” he whispered.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #rough smut #rough eddie munson smut #eddie munson rough smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #dark eddie munson #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson hcs #stranger things #stranger things smut #smut #smut requests #smut recs #joseph quinn #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson blurb #Spotify

[mimicha-arts]

Audiobook, ep 103 (corresponds to s1ep10)

Now eps covers the donghua's plot closely, but sometimes there are small changes, additions and expansions of scenes. This post is a copy of my thread from twitter for the archive.

Friendly reminder, I'm not a native speaker, there is also no subtitles. I'm trying my best, but I can't hear everything and probably made mistakes. Please keep in mind, I wrote it just for reference.

At the very beginning of the scene, the school bell rings, signaling the end of classes. Afterwards, the boy runs to his father and says that he got 100 points for the test, his father promised to buy him a ranger toy for this - his father says they will now go and buy it. After, the girl calls her mother and tells about how well she drew a picture during class with their family, and the teacher noted that it was drawn very well. Mom praises her. QL: Every time after school, he (Cheng Xiaoshi) saw other children being picked up by their parents, and how they returned home together. And he just stood aside and looked at them all alone, feeling envious and lonely. In order to make himself like a normal kid and to blend in with others, he tried his best, but...

Flashback

Kids playing together. Kid 1：Look at this! Kid 2：Take it! CXS：What are you playing? Can I join you? Kid：Em…

Woman：Why are you still here? Go home, go. You don’t know this kid, so why are you hanging out with strangers? Let’s go. Grandma：Nannan (girl’s name), listen to grandma, it’s time to leave. Go home. Grandpa：Don't you dare to play with him. He is a feral child! He has no parents to teach him. How can a child be so uncouth! Woman：Right! So careless, just running here and there, like a disaster

People together： - All right, all right, let’s go - Mom, go - Hurry up!

CXS：You are the feral kids! You are like a disaster, your whole family is a disaster! I don’t want to play with you!

People together： (There is some other phrases I can’t understand)

- What a disaster - At such a young age, you say such dirty words, really disgusting! - Grandma, don't listen to him, it’s so dirty - Hurry, shut your ears - Crazy! Cheng Xiaoshi starts crying.

QL: The neighbors who used to spend time together with him and the friends he played with left him one by one. He was eventually isolated, but I know how afraid of losing everyone he was.

(Here they placed a flashback that corresponded to the moment with the earthquake when CXS ran to QL’s house) QL: That was the first time, when he, who had always been stubborn, was so frightened that couldn’t put words together. Then I realized how painful it must be for him to say, "I don't want you to care about me." At that time, Qiao Ling understood - these people who came to the photo studio as soon as they heard the news about Cheng Xiaoshi's parents', just wanted to satisfy their curiosity. Their perfunctory concern may be able to hide it from others, but it couldn’t fool Cheng Xiaoshi since he was involved. Children have the purest, the sharpest eyes.  These people themselves had no idea how their sarcastic words could hurt a child's heart. In the following days, Cheng Xiaoshi stopped trying to cater to others and just spent time alone in the photo studio. Sitting alone at the door of the photo studio, watching people coming and going, the liveliness was about other people, had nothing to do with him. Day by day, year by year, the photo studio was becoming more and more dilapidated. Cheng Xiaoshi also grew up gradually, but his life seemed to always have two points and one thread: from the photo studio to the school, and then from the school to the photo studio. He only had one friend, Qiao Ling, by his side.

QL： Before, I was worried whether Cheng Xiaoshi would be able to make friends who truly cared about him… Until that day. That day.

#link click #shiguang dailiren #time agents