#but the time came when one was called to serve and the other to duty

[marragurl]

Saxaphone player Gallagher has not left my mind since the jazz night art dropped AND THEN Robin saying Halovian’s innately have good voices and Sunday used to hum lullabies to her as kids happened in the 2.2 special program, and I’m sure you guys can see where my unfortunate Galladay heart is going with this.

Whoever decided to make this art, I love you. I hope your pillow is cool every night, you’re never stuck in traffic, and your water is refreshing with every sip.

Also the art of Sunday with the White Gentlemen drink in the S.P.A.R.K.L.E jazz night event has also spiraled into me delusionally thinking that’s his go to drink. Which is hilarious since Robin has hinted before that he seems to have a massive sweet tooth in her letters.

(Sunday how do you even make holding a drink menacing, Sunday please get some therapy-)

So imagine this:

Pre 2.0 Galladay, where they’re both wary and suspicious of each other but didn’t do anything outright. Sunday slowly began to visit Gallagher’s bar whenever he had time to observe the Hound, initially on the down low just to get a sense of what he was working with and what to keep an eye on. He always gravitated to that one corner booth that every bar had with the most privacy, and just stalked there for a few hours before leaving. (Smol menacing birb in a tree vibes)

Gallagher obviously knew that Sunday was doing this (even though everyone else seemed to somehow completely miss him, Gallagher wouldn’t be surprised if Sunday was doing some weird Harmony mind tricks), and after the first few “stakeouts,” he bit the bullet and actually approached the table to engage with Sunday, on the off chance this was some weird “test of loyalty” by the Halovian to see if the Hound would swallow his pride to serve his so-called masters.

Nothing terrible happened, but he remained passive-aggressively polite when serving him, and Sunday remained passive-aggressively cool-headed in response. There was some snark of what dear “sweet-toothed” Sunday would want at a bar, and an icy reply of “aren’t you the master drink smith? Why don’t you show me those skills you boasted about?” which led to Gallagher being petty and giving Sunday the White Gentlemen drink, both for the story behind it being such a metaphor for Sunday, and because it was on the more bitter side of alcoholic drinks.

Sunday wasn’t too against the drink; it wasn’t something he would have ordered if it had been his choice, but it wasn’t a bad drink by any means. He couldn’t help but continue to drink it even after Gallagher left his little hidey booth to go back to the main bar, but he’d never stoop so low as to complement the Hound. Of course, he never ordered anything else from then on, only White Gentleman. In fact, over time it seemed to slowly get better, the flavors grew on him, and he couldn't help but look forward to it during difficult nights in the Dreamscape.

If Gallagher tried to needle him into a different drink, Sunday just bit back a “oh? Admitting defeat? I thought this was your best drink for me?” with a little smirk while Gallagher had to use every bit of self-control to not punch him in the face.

As time went on, the bar slowly became a place Sunday frequented to not quite relax, but to get away from the hustle and bustle of Penacony and his duties as one of its main faces. The stresses slowly started piling up, especially with the Charmony fast approaching in a few months and all that came with it.

Gallagher didn’t seem to loosen up regarding his attitude with Sunday, but he did get better at shoving down the visceral hatred he had for everything to do with The Family and Sunday as time went on. He didn’t get soft with Sunday per se, but he definitely kept an eye out for him, and definitely knew when to cut off his drinks on days where it seemed that Sunday wasn’t all that there for their usual veiled comments towards one another when he went to serve him his drink.

It started small, with Sunday staying later and later until sometimes he was the last one to leave the bar to return to reality. Gallagher wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, still wasn’t quite sure this wasn’t some weird long-term test Sunday was devising, especially since he still seemed to be the same ruthless Family member, the same Head of the Oak Family, when Gallagher was working as a Bloodhound outside the bar. For some reason though, within the enclosed space of this strange sanctuary, it was almost peaceful between the two.

One night, there was something wrong when Sunday entered the bar during Gallagher’s shift. He saw a bit of a crowd near the small stage that was within eyesight of his little hidey booth, it seemed some of the musicians of the live band were arguing? He watched as Gallagher came over, seemed to try to speak with the group before honing in on one of the musicians who had been making the most noise and seemed to be about to get physical with the rest. Sunday watched as Gallagher picked up the musician by the scruff of their suit with one hand and carried them towards the doors and lightly tossed them out.

(It was the first time Sunday had actually seen Gallagher perform anything resembling the actual duty of a Bloodhound. It only hit him that he’d only ever seen the other when giving reports, orders, or at the bar. Why was this so shocking to him, he’d seen the man’s arms before, hard not to with his slovenly dress and messy clothing style, as if he couldn’t bother to hide away his imperfections from the world, not like Sunday who refused to be seen by the world, to dare to show one thing off about himself despite his countless failings- he’s getting far too distracted by one meager showing of strength, focus Sunday)

There had always been a live music segment. Sunday was curious to see what would happen with the band missing a member, but was distracted by Gallagher placing his usual White Gentlemen in front of him before heading back to the musicians without a single word to him. Gallagher took a moment to speak with the rest of the band, who seemed to be coming out of their shock and took on worried looks. Sunday could only watch in muted shock as Gallagher went behind the bar and came back with a case, opening it to reveal a saxophone. He then went on stage with the rest of the group, positioned himself further to the side and in the back amongst the shadows within Sunday’s line of sight, and played with the band for the rest of the night.

Sunday couldn’t look away.

He was frozen as he watched Gallagher seamlessly transition from song to song, taking only small breaks to continue serving the other patrons before heading back in. Sunday only remembered about his own drink when his gloves began to get wet from the ice melting into condensation on his glass.

Something felt off within Sunday, and for the first time since Robin’s debut, he couldn't help humming to the music of the band, music that wasn’t of his own sister’s making. He couldn’t help but remember those little concerts the two would have, taking care of his little sister, his only world. He would do anything to keep the Harmony, to keep their family going. When was the last time they truly spent time together? Before he became the Head of the Oak Family? Before he couldn't recognize his own smile?

He was so lost in his thoughts, in memories he thought he buried, that he didn’t realize that it was once again closing time, and he was once again the last one left. He only snapped out of it when Gallagher came by to grab his empty glass, only quirking a questioning brow at him before heading back to the bar.

Gallagher had been keeping a quiet eye on the Halovian that night from the back of the band, in the shadows he felt the most confront in when in the Dreamscape of Penacony. He had watched Sunday’s eyes glaze over, and the only reason he hadn’t felt offended by the seeming disinterest was the look in the other man’s eyes reminding him of his own when he looked in the mirror. The same look of shame, regret, loss, longing, of the wishes to regain everything he had lost. The same look he strove to hide under every bit of the facade he had crafted of this new self, but came back all too often with every reference of the Family found within his prison in the Dreamscape.

Maybe it was the shared nostalgia within his own heart, that little bit of his true self that he thought died when the Family tore out everything that made him who he was, that made him return behind the bar and begin making Sunday another White Gentlemen, giving Sunday a small nod to beckon him over. He wasn’t expecting anything from it, and he masked his own surprise when Sunday actually left his little shelter to come and take a seat in front of him at the bar. Even while out of it, Gallagher made note of the quiet confidence the other still carried himself. Nothing seemed wrong to anyone else looking at him, only for the lost look in his eyes.

The first time in the many months that they’ve been skirting around each other, and finally they seemed to be face to face.

It was quiet as Gallagher made Sunday his usual drink, a drink he had been slowly changing over the months to be sweeter and sweeter that Sunday never quite seemed to notice, or if he did, he never said anything, only seeming to savor it more each subsequent night. Maybe not even Gallagher noticed his own changes to the drink, subtle as they were.

It was quiet as Sunday took the finished drink, and it was quiet as his eyes slid over the bartop to see the saxophone case laying open with the instrument inside. It was quiet as Gallagher followed his eyes, as he came out from behind the bartop to take the saxophone out and take a seat in a chair only one seat down from Sunday’s. It was quiet as Gallagher began to play to his audience of one.

It was quiet as Sunday quietly hummed along.

It was quiet as they both knew that it would not last.

OK yea so this was all because I heard ‘La vie en rose’ at the end of the Jazz night event and went “Damn I wish that’s Gallagher playing on his Sax” and then we spiraled.

Uh. Idk what it is with me having a small ship moment which then spirals into a full blown writing session. My mind blanked out and as I came to I find out that I made a whole ass little one shot over here then completely forgot about it WHOOPS

So yea, hope my fellow Galladay enjoyers… enjoyed! I think I’ve slowly begun to crave… not domestic or fluff per se from these two, but after every AO3 fic being super dark between them (which I get! They are the toxic yaoi kings of Penacony as of writing this, no one is denying that!) I think I want to see them be explored in a more melancholic sense. Not quite the “forbidden” love angle, but in the “damn we kinda have some parallels, and maybe in another life we could have gotten along but there’s too much baggage and anger, both historically and currently to really even try anything”

I have this feeling this may not be the last time I write about these two… is Galladay going to be the ship that gets me to actually use my AO3 account?

#hsr #honkai star rail #hsr gallagher #hsr sunday #galladay #idk what I’m doing anymore #they’ve kinda taken over my mind #shoutout to that one ao3 fic where both of them go “’this wasn’t supposed to happen’ as they’re making out #that’s the exact vibes I’m feeling when I think about these two pre-relationship #of course we don’t run away from angst in this ship #everything follows exactly up until the 2.1 end credits scene #let’s see what happens in 2.2 #I NEED ANSWERS #ALSO MISHA #I WANNA THROW GALLAGHER AND MISHA’S KINDA WHOLESOME RELATIONSHIP IN HERE TWO #idk wtf is going on there #but until 2.2 explains #Gallagher is misha’s weird drunk uncle/dad figure #it adds more comedy to Galladay whether Sunday knows of/can see Misha or not either way #oof new writing idea #next time #I need to work on tagging #this is just another post all on its own

[queers-gambit]

Not All That Glitters is Gold

prompt: during your engagement dinner, you learn from your fiancé's niece that he holds choice words about you. or finding out he calls you clingy behind your back.

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 3.1k+

warnings: cursing, draaaama, mild angst, AU timeline technically, hurt and comfort (reader don't play those games i guess), relationship angst, half edited.

browse Clingy Baby collection masterlist here

His cloak was a shimmering beacon of golden glimmer even in the dark of night. It promoted an air of confidence and swagger, something independent from his usual cockiness. No, with that gold cloak, he walked as if the very air you all breathed was produced by him; being silent and domineering in his presence. It had been something you were initially attracted to, his alluring mystery and overwhelming stoic self-awareness.

He moved around the Throne Room like wings were gifted to his feet, carrying him with lithe movements to look as if gliding. All eyes were on him, whether out of admiration, jealousy, confusion, or lust - eyes followed him no matter where he went, no matter what he did, who he interacted with. You lifted the heavy gold goblet to your lips, taking a careful mouthful of wine before setting it down, swallowing, and standing from your seat at the banquet table.

You wanted your lover, so, you got up to satisfy your craving.

You approached him as he spoke to a pair of noblemen, slowing your gait to ease your arrival and not cause a surprise. Your dress was something a little more alluring, more revealing than you'd usually wear, and as you approached the men, the eyes not belonging to your new fiancé nearly bulged from their skulls.

Daemon turned his head and saw you, smirking as his arm opened and he welcomed you into his side. "I was beginning to wonder where you got off to," you told him softly, one arm around his hips as the other planted your hand against his chest. "The Aunties have descended and are becoming insufferable, I fear I needed reprieve."

Daemon grinned, sounding amused, "It was a matter of time before they found you. Stick with us, darling, the Aunties will stay away."

"They're about to serve dinner," you told him, "perhaps we should find our seats?"

He nodded, looking at the men he had been speaking to before you showed up. Daemon bid politely, offering no other explanation besides, "Excuse us, gentlemen."

They bowed out of their Prince's way, letting Daemon lead you toward the head banquet table (again) where his brother, King Viserys, was sitting with other prominent members of court. The night had been pleasant, everyone rejoicing in the upcoming nuptials between you and the Rogue Prince. For years, he'd been something chaotic and shunned; and after the passing of his first wife, Rhea Royce, he was like a kite cut from string. Loose and set adrift. Wild and out-of-reach. And then you came back into Daemon's life after not seeing one another since you were ten-and-six, and all of a sudden, the Rogue Prince was something more domesticated.

It was a refreshing change, albeit totally uncharacteristic for Daemon.

Viserys was the most shocked of them all, constantly praising you for whatever you had done to his brother to reel him into a controllable pace. He thought you and Daemon were perfect for one another, likened you two to fit-together puzzle pieces. The King had been more than happy to host the celebrations, starting with tonight, an engagement party! You had to play part of dutiful fiancé and upstanding citizen since you were to inherit a royal title; being poised and collected at all times with either a calm, passive expression or one of bright entertainment.

"Here, love," Daemon whispered, pulling your chair out for you. He waited until you were sat before taking his own seat, sighing when he glanced around the table only to settle his gaze on you.

"What's wrong, my Dragon?" You asked softly, leaning in to place your hand over his on his lap; pressed into his side despite the wooden chair arms between you.

"Just amusing," he mused, "most of these Lords and Ladies had much to say about my first marriage, and now, they break our bread to celebrate us."

"Cannot be the first time someone's tried to suck up to you," you chuckled, moving your conjoined hands in your lap. "The dragon does not concern himself with the opinion of the sheep," you advised smartly, "they only tolerate the sheep because one day, the dragon will need to feast - hmm?"

Daemon smirked, "When did you become so insightful, darling?"

"I've always been, you're just pussy-whipped now that I make a lot more sense."

He laughed, letting a servant pour your wine. In your ear, he mused, "Jest all you want, but you were meant to be a Targaryen. Once we are wed, I will plant my seed, and bind us together for eternity."

"Our marriage wouldn't doing exactly that already?"

"A child is more tangible - it's a bloodline."

You shrugged as a plate of blood-red lobster was set in front of you. Viserys truly went all out - giving a wide variety of foods to taste. "A marriage is for life, though," you countered.

"So is a child."

"Until they are married off."

Conversation continued, flowing easily between the family members and patrons of court. Viserys looked pleased, enjoying the celebration as his ailment often caused him grave pain and he could not attend events. He hardly had reason to smile, but when he watched you feed a bite to Daemon, he let his lips spread without thought. Queen Alicent clocked the King's expression, glancing at you and Daemon, then smiled fondly before reaching for her husband's hand.

Throughout the dinner, Rhaenyra watched you and Daemon with a bitter glare on her face; jaw locked and lips pursed. You ignored her obvious displeasure in favor of your husband, both too enraptured with one another to ever pay attention to the Princess' distain. When the meal was over, the dancing, mingling, drinking, and musical portion of the evening commenced.

And cake. Cake was to be served.

Daemon's golden cloak swept around guests as you both played dutiful host for your party, and mingled with those who arrived tonight to celebrate your upcoming nuptials. You did your best to keep up with the plethora of Lords and Ladies, like Daemon did so effortlessly, but it was a lot. You still held your own, but by Gods, there was a lot of people in attendance tonight and there was noway you could remember any names.

Thankfully, while Daemon was caught in a conversation with Ser Gerold Royce, you eventually made it to a small group of familiar faces: Princess Rhaenyra, Ser Harwin Strong, his brother, Larys, Lady Laena Velaryon, and her twin, Ser Laenor.

You graciously received the compliments, well-wishes, and joyful greetings of them all, but acutely noted the Princess did not offer even so much as a polite greeting. "This dress was made for you, it's just darling," Laena complimented, petting the bodice. "It must've cost a fortune."

"It was a gift from Daemon," you told her with a soft smile. "And the necklace, too! See?" You showed her, "He had it custom made, it's Valyrian Steel with embedded jewels."

"The perfect combination of your Houses, and a gorgeous piece of art to hang on such a gorgeous neck," she praised, but it was Princess Rhaenyra's scoff of annoyance that peaked your interest.

You thanked Laena Velaryon before eyeing Rhaenyra. "Princess?" You questioned. "If I may ask you something, plainly?"

"By all means."

"Have I... Upset you in anyway?"

"You mean beside my uncle spending the Crown's coin to buy you something exquisitely made; being a fleeting, lady interest of the Princes'? No, no, nothing's wrong," she scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"What is this distain you hold towards me - towards my relationship with Daemon?" You demanded, the alcohol in your system spurring you on despite knowing the looming consequences of offering a member of the Royal family sharpened words.

"Truly? You wish to know why I do not fawn over you as others?"

"They do not fawn, oh - " You stopped yourself, sighing deeply and correcting yourself, "Of course I wish to know what the issue at hand here is, Princess, I do not wish for ill-will between us. I wish to resolve this."

"In truth, I simply do not understand it, this - this sham of a wedding," she snapped. "Daemon might buy you pretty things, but it's only out of guilt."

"What guilt could he possibly - "

"He finds you overwhelming, overbearing, suffocatingly clingy. So, with his distain, he, too, felt fleeting guilt - being why he showers you with gifts, it's for his own conscious. But if you ask me why I host such distain towards this union, it is because I know my uncle is not happy with your overwhelmingly clingy behavior. He's voiced his displeasure many-a-time. Not just to me, but to the King and Queen, as well."

You felt shell-shocked, acutely aware of the lingering eyes of the audience around you. You worried: how many of them had heard this rumor, how many secretly pitied you? Finding your voice, you managed to squeak out, "I beg your pardon?"

Rhaenyra only shrugged, "You asked, I answered."

"I see," you cleared your throat. "And your answer is that my betrothed has, what, started to slander my name behind my back?"

"Indeed. His chief complaint is how you seem to cling to him more and more, and he doesn't have the heart to push you away more than he already has. You're the one daft enough to not take a hint."

"And where do you get your information from?"

"Daemon, himself."

Your mind raced with all the little things: how Daemon would release your person during public events, avoid physical touch, ignore you sometimes, shut down your woes (call that gaslighting), how he stiffened at times you took his arm, how he seemed to shut down and only offer bored 'mmhms' when you spoke to him about your life. Your heart sank to your feet as you realized there were some truths to Rhaenyra's words.

You nodded slowly as Daemon chose that moment to approach your awkward group. His arm slithered around your waist, but you were silent as the grave and stiff as the corpse in said grave. Your mind raced with the idea that Rhaenyra could just be fucking with you, but the also with the idea that all she said was true.

"I'm going to retire for the evening, I've a headache," you told Daemon, finding an easy way out of his grip, "but you stay, enjoy the celebration. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am just tired."

He agreed and gently kissed you - sure to remain modest but still affectionate. "I'll visit you tonight," he muttered in your ear.

"No, I am truly tired," you told him softly but sternly. "We'll see each other tomorrow."

He hummed, "Then I shall walk you out - "

"No, you're needed here to save face. Go, mingle, play nice," you dismissed him. "I'll see you tomorrow."

You bid whoever you came across a good and safe night; thanking them for their attendance tonight. After thanking the King for hosting the party, you disappeared, taking a few secret passages to avoid the main hustle-and-bustle of the feast. When you arrived in your room, you slammed the door, bolted it, and leaned against it for a good long moment. Your mind was reeling with all kinds of thoughts regarding your intended, his niece, all of it suddenly feeling very overwhelming.

You were exhausted, so, you swiftly stripped, unpinned your hair, refused your maid's help, and soaked in a long, hot bath. After, you settled into bed with a book, and tried not to overwhelm yourself with the anxiety tomorrow would bring.

About an hour later, you heard Daemon knocking at your passage door. You paused, not making a sound, hearing his muffled voice, "Love? My love, are you awake?"

You didn't answer.

"Please, sweet girl, let me in," he begged quietly.

When you wrenched the door open, you seethed, "NO!"

"What - ?"

"I heard plenty tonight from your niece. In your moments of frustration, you know what? Sure, complain about your woes - but to find out you call me clingy when in regard to my affection - that's not something I'm going to be happy hearing, Daemon!"

"I know, but let me explain - "

"What? What will you say? That you just needed someone to talk to? To vent your feelings? I get that - I really do. But you fully offered slander to my name, to our relationship; to who I am as a partner. Your poisoned words of your irritation is soaked into your family, in the courts. And now, I must endure the pity those will offer knowing my husband truly holds distain for me!"

"No, you've got it wrong, I don't - "

"Then why!?" You demanded, voice cracking. "Why say those things? Why not come to me and communicate you're not comfortable with this and that behavior!? I won't know unless you tell me, so, instead of talking your shit to the courts and your family, why not just speak to me!?"

"I should have!" He admitted quickly. "I should have, I know that, and it was my mistake, my love. But I regret it, I regret feeling so, so - I don't know! Sure, let's call it frustrated, irritated, I don't care, I just needed it off my chest!"

"I understand that fully, but being as we're to marry one another, I should be the one listening to you when you need something off your chest. You should talk to me. And if I'm the one you need to speak about, choose more trustworthy confidants that do not need further reason to despise me!"

"What're you...? What? What does that mean?"

"Rhaenyra, Daemon! Your niece, Rhaenyra! Every-fucking-thing you've said to her, she remembers, and holds it against me! You forget, when you speak to family about the woes of your relationship, that's all they remember. You get to make up with me, we get to move on, but because you needed t'vent to them, that's what they can hold against me. Do you even wish to marry me, still!?"

"Of course, I do!"

"Then something needs to change," you deadpanned, exhausted by this. "I refuse to be belittled, spat on, and disrespected by your niece any longer."

"I will speak to her."

"Yes, you will! This is far too out of hand! She has weaponized your frustration to drive a wedge between us, and she chose a public event with an audience to lob it all at me!"

"What truly happened with Rhaenyra? What was so bad?"

"Daemon, she called me out for 'being clingy' in front of an audience! At our engagement celebration! Do you know how humiliating that was!? I'm more embarrassed than angry!"

He nodded, "I'll handle this. I swear, my darling, this will be resolved."

"You know what?" You breathed. "Do whatever you please because I've realized something. Not only did Rhaenyra spew our business to others, but you... You said it in the first place. You said those words..."

"Out of anger - "

"But you still spoke them!"

"I was foolish to do so!"

"You are a fool for many reasons, Daemon, but this is one act I am not willing to forgive so blindly. Wear your jester hat all you'd like, but it will take more than pretty words to make this up to me."

"I'll do what it takes to fix this." He tried to step into the room with you, but you held your ground in the doorway. "My love, please, how can I make it up to you if you do not let me in?"

"You must find any other way to do this because there's no chance in any of the Seven Hells that you share my bed again - married or not." You offered him a look of distain, musing, "You know what, I've decided: I simply don't care what you or your family thinks. I am extremely proud of who I am, and there's not a soul alive that can make me feel lesser than. Your words hurt, they cut deeper hearing it from the Princess, but that's simply your opinion," you eased. "I refuse to modify myself, but it's good to know you don't like my affection - I can always reserve it for whoever I choose to warm my bed. What was it you said?" You quipped venomously, "Marriages are political arrangements?"

"Not ours," he snapped.

"Oh? We're so different, are we?" You laughed.

"Of course we are, there's nothing I'd change. Hear me? Nothing," he sounded angry. "I was a fool to speak out of term, but you're right, I should talk to you about it - I am simply unequipped to having a wife I've chosen."

"Oh, spare me - "

"It's true," he insisted, "what woman in my life has loved me as you do? Has encouraged me to be so - so - loving and safe?"

"Apparently, I've been clingy and not as encouraging as I thought."

"I spoke out of turn," he insisted. "You're right - I can't go and take back what I've said. But I will do all I can to ensure I change their opinions on you, to mop up whatever verbal mess I've made."

You laughed without humor.

"And I will set Rhaenyra straight about all of this, I will ensure she knows that there's no room for such tension, jealousy, hatred."

"You swear to clean up all your messes?" You wondered earnestly.

"I swear."

"Good," you mused, "after that, how do you intend on rebuilding my trust?"

Daemon blinked, "You do not trust me anymore?"

"Of course not," you assured, "not since finding out how you speak of me so hatefully without my knowledge. That's where trust comes in, Daemon, but you proved me wrong, and now, that trust is gone."

Daemon looked confused, mouth opening and closing rapidly, shaking his head, "No, no, no, love, don't do this. We're okay, all right? We're fine, things with us - we're fine. We're okay."

"Saying it doesn't make it true."

"Do not tell me," He snapped. "H-Have I lost you?"

"Mhm. Not saying you can't fix things between us, but as of now, there's nothing about you I can trust."

"And if you cannot trust me, can you love me?"

You paused, considering his words. Honestly, his betrayal was something that hurt worse than anything you've endured before. "I'll have to think about that one," you whispered. With a saddened look, you hugged the door, sighing, and bid, "Goodnight, my Prince."

"My sweet - don't shut me out. Don't do this."

"Find a way to make this all up to me," you demanded, "because I'd hate for either of us to eventually resent this marriage, too."

He tried to argue but you shut the door on him forcefully; loudly locking it from the inside to prevent him from following you. You felt yourself brimming with anger, but nothing was like the betrayal coursing through your heart and veins. There was no sleep that night, there was a lot of tears, a lot of pacing, and a lot of grumbling to yourself.

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

Clingy Baby collection

#daemon targaryen #prince daemon targaryen #prince daemon #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x fem!reader #prince daemon targaryen x reader #prince daemon targaryen x fem!reader #prince daemon x reader #daemon x reader #prince daemon x fem!reader #daemon x fem!reader #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen fanfiction #house of the dragon #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #hotd #hbo house of the dragon #house of the dragon hbo #hotd fandom #hbo hotd #hotd hbo

[screeching-bunny]

Yandere priest or religious higher up x witch reader?

Yandere! Priest pt. 2

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

Pt.1

In a small, picturesque village nestled amidst towering mountains and lush greenery, there existed a quiet and humble priest. He was revered for his kind heart, unwavering devotion to his faith, and his desire to help others. Yandere! Priest had dedicated his life to serving his community, finding solace in his duties and the tranquility of the church. He could only be described as compassionate and fair with the gentlest heart. He was very well loved by the community around him and highly respected. However, there was a small group of people who hated him and preyed on his downfall. One these people managed to gravely injure him and drag his body far away from civilization to make sure he doesn’t have a chance at living. They wanted a slow and painful death for him.

On the outskirts desolated from the village, was an enchanted forest, that was rumored by the townspeople to be cursed and filled with many horrors. That so-called haunted and enchanted forest held your lovely house which you had been living in for decades. Now the question arises, why exactly were you living in such a dangerous and isolated forest in the first place? Well, an easy explanation to this question was the fact that you were a witch. On that possessed extraordinary magic, to be more specific you were a witch doctor. One who was dedicated to healing and creating new medicinal spells.

Currently, you were outside in that forest collecting herbs when you came across a severely injured person. They had grave injuries all over their body and had a nasty head wound across their skull. Whenever you came across an injured animal you would always heal them immediately in order to ensure their survival. This time it was different because they were human. You had to be extra cautious about using your powers in order to not be exposed as a witch. You start to carefully and swiftly carry them towards your cabin.

By the time that you got home, your patient had already lost a liter of blood. You honestly were not sure if they were even gonna survive the night but you quickly got to work on them. Although it took several hours, you managed to stabilize him with the help of your magic and medical tools. Using a spell to clean up the blood, you decide to retire for the night. The operation was a success but you had to heal him little by little to avoid suspicion. Anyways, he should be up by tomorrow, it’s time to get some well deserved rest.

When morning arrived, Yandere! Priest started to stir from his bed. He was currently in a daze, “Where was he? The last thing he remembered was getting beat up. How did he end up here?” A few minutes later, the door opened to reveal you. “Nice to see you awake. I hope you feel better now.” He looks at you with confusion and you quickly explain the situation and how you found him.

“Ah, I see. I can’t exactly remember who attacked me. Is it alright if I stay here for a while until I get better?” Just like that you earned yourself a new servant. He was extremely respectful towards you but had the tendency to linger extremely close to you while you were out in public looking for supplies. While you worked on your medicine, Yandere! Priest took care of all the household chores and acted like your househusband. He was supposed to be devoted to God and live his life in celibacy but here was little by little falling in love with you. No matter what he did, his mind was filled with just thoughts of you and the need to please your every desire. It wasn’t right but it felt so natural. If God was out there listening and witnessing all the deeds he had done for him in his name, then he wouldn’t mind if he fell in love with you right?

As the days went on, you both were living in complete harmony, that was until one day while shopping in town, someone from Yandere! Priest’s village recognized him. This person ended up being Yandere! Priest’s childhood friend who had a crush on him. She was extremely shocked that he was here and she stalked him all the way back to your house. While there she got jealous, the way that he looked and treated you made her green with envy. All her life she had a crush on him and when she finally had the courage to ask him out, he simply stated that he devoured his life to God. Devoted my ass, what kind of priest looks at a person with such tender love and care? She honestly could not believe this. She loved him so much that if she couldn’t have him, then no one could. Which is why she hired a hitman to kill him and why she was so surprised to see him alive. If only that person she hired wasn’t so incompetent.

After some more days of observation, she discovers a disturbing secret from you. It was the fact that you were a WITCH. She could not believe her eyes as she watched you take out your spell book to make a potion. As she was about to go town to tell everyone about this, she ended up tripping which alerted you that she was there. You quickly realized that she discovered your identity and was about to go tell the townspeople. In a flash you immediately took action and teleported to the other end of the forest and rushed to the town.

There, you immediately screamed, “WITCH, EVERYONE I HAVE DISCOVERED A WITCH.” This immediately caught the attention of everyone around and they all started to ask you questions about their appearance. Yandere! Priest was shopping and heard the sound of your voice. He immediately rushed over to you. After you finish giving the description of the girl, she immediately rushes over to the people and starts accusing you. Which you respond with, “She tells lies! I saw her reading and writing! She must be a witch, burn her at the stake!” Okay, so you knew this was morally wrong but it was either you or her. Thanks to your gaslighting and the brain deadness of the people, everyone took your side. It honestly was not that hard to convince them, they do witch burning of people every week because they had the ability to read.

Right now, you are currently watching a woman burn at the stake while she shouts profanities at you. You honestly could not believe that had worked, well at least your butt was saved. However, the more that Yandere! Priest thought about it, the more it made sense that you might actually be a witch. From your mannerism to your way of life, it was all odd. I mean normal people don’t just live in the middle of some random woods. Wait, no, that couldn’t be, you were something greater. For the remainder of his time he made sure to heavily observe you and anything you did. He kept these thoughts to himself until he fully recovered and was expected to leave your house. That was fine, he was willing to leave but not without you by his side. On this day, he hid your spell book to guarantee that you wouldn’t run away. With that he made his way back to his former village to start making preparations for your arrival.

You were frantically searching for your book. Where was it? You definitely couldn’t have misplaced, right? Just then, you hear a knock on the door and Yandere! Priest steps in. “I’m so grateful to see you again, I could bear being away from you. Even if it had only been two hours.” What? Now you were confused, what was he doing here again and what was he talking about? Seeing the confused look on your face he explains, “I’ve come to take you back with me. You see I am a priest and I now know that I was created in order to worship you.” With that he holds up your spell book. “I know what you are, a divine being greater than God. I’ll spend the rest of my day following your every demand. Come, I have already ordered the other priest to prepare your arrival. Let us worship you. You are the only one that can save us from this wretched world, please indulge us with your presence. We’ll make sure your word is law.”

You had such a look of disbelief written on your face. Holy crap did you just accidentally start up a cult?!?! Fuck.

#yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere priest #male yandere #yandere oc #gn reader

[iheartcake123]

yeong-hu x f! reader

warnings: contains some spoilers from S2 Sweet Home

a/n: this fic will contain certain parts which happened in S2 but won’t be 100% accurate!! also i had to write a fic about this man, he IS husband material + if any of you have read my other fics you know how much i suck at endings so im sorry about this ending🤣 i hope you enjoy it either way though!!

Masterlist

everyday was the same thing, wake up, stand in line for roll call and do your part to help with the survival of the group. the crow platoons ensured safety but supplies were running low.

before everything happened, you were a doctor and had served some time in the military as a doctor too. you kept that second part a secret though. you refused to get involved with the crow platoon in that aspect. they were usually looking to get more people with military experience to join them.

you were quite happy just being like everyone else and doing doctor duties when people really needed it. supplies were always low for what you did and you found yourself just making do with anything.

the morning started like all others. people doing little things they were assigned to do. then the announcement for roll call was made and you lined up with everyone. the crow platoon were going on an expedition for more supplies.

everyone stood in line as members of the crow platoon did their checks. they needed to make sure everyone was accounted for before they left.

you were stood with yeong-su and jin-ok. yeong-su had a baseball in his hand and was throwing it up and down.

“you should stop before they see” you told yeong-su to which he rolled his eyes and continued throwing his ball, that was until he dropped it.

the sound of the ball rolling seemed to be the only sound until it came to a stop. it had hit the shoes of one of the crow platoon soldiers. the soldier u-seok picked the ball up and yeong-su started to get upset.

“give it back to me! give it back!” yeong-su complained trying to reach up and grab the ball but the soldier held it higher.

suddenly, then the soldier grabbed a hold of yeong-su’ arm and held it in place.

“when did he get this scar?” u-seok questioned.

“it’s from last night” jin-ok chimed in and began to hold onto yeong-su.

“it looks fresher than that” u-seok tightened his grip on the young boy.

“sir, it doesn’t seem serious” the other soldier chan-young said looking between the two.

“what would you know about it? we have to be sure” u-seok then took out his knife and tried to cut yeong-su.

“just. just let him go. he’s just a child..ok?” jin-ok held yeong-su protectively.

“kids can be monsters too. there’s no exceptions”

“then let jin-ok do it herself” you stepped forward and jin-ok nodded profusely.

“yes, i’ll do it myself” jin-ok addded.

“you should’ve done it last night” the soldier then tried to cut yeong-su.

before he could make contact with the young boys skin, you stopped him. you stood forward and held onto the knife. your hand wrapped around the sharp blade and you did a manoeuvre to get the knife from the guard.

you held the knife up to his throat, your hand was covered in blood but you didn’t care. u-seok was acting like an ass and needed to be taught a lesson.

“maybe you should start doing your job properly and focus on more important things like getting more medical supplies rather than picking on a little kid” you said through grit teeth putting the knife down.

“you think you’re so tough huh?” u-seok snatched the knife from you and then latched his hand onto your top.

“sir, we have other important matters” chan-young tried to step in.

“you finish up here, im taking this one to sarge. then we’ll see if she has anything more to say”

you then found yourself being dragged with full force through the various halls. u-seok kept his grip on you and even though you tried to push him away from you, it was no use.

eventually, you reached the area where the crow platoon gather together and get set up for their expeditions. the room was full of some of the other soldiers

“let go of me asshole!” you cursed at him and he then threw you to the floor.

you landed on the cold floor and winced slightly as you tried to get up. you hand was still bloody and sore from earlier.

“what’s this?” sergeant kim (yeong-hu) walked in, his eyes focused to you.

“sarge, this one here managed to get a hold of my knife and held it to my throat. she’s definitely hiding something!” u-seok said loudly.

“this isn’t how we treat people u-seok. doesn’t matter what they’ve done” yeong-hu walked up to you and held his hand out.

you glared at him before getting up yourself. you didn’t need his hand.

“i haven’t done anything wrong. your poor excuse of a soldier u-seok picked on a little kid today. so all i did was tell him to focus on more important things like getting more supplies. especially medical supplies” you defended yourself and decided to speak your mind. “we have sick people and they need treatment. honestly i haven’t seen anything this bad ever since i served-“

you soon stopped yourself after realising you had just exposed yourself. god, you only hoped he wasn’t listening to that last part.

“served? are you telling me that you used to be in the military?” yeong-hu folded his arms and you meekly nodded.

there was no use lying now.

“go get ready” yeong-hu told you firmly and you raised an eyebrow.

“for what?” you questioned. why did you have to get ready.

“just get ready and then we’ll talk…?” he looked at you and you said your name.

“y/n…” he then said before brushing you aside and turning to his men “everyone we leave in five minutes. be ready.”

you now found yourself sat in the backseat of a military truck with yeong-hu and one of his other men named seok-chan in the front. your hand was now wrapped too and you had your bag with you. your own personal knife hiding in the front pocket just in case.

“where are you going to take me?” you questioned.

“you suggested that we need more medical supplies, you must know where we can find some” yeong-hubanswered while looking at a map in his hands. he didn’t bother looking at you.

you were being weary. what if he was lying? but also why would they bring you? you could’ve just marked a map up for them.

you remained silent as you waited for some of the other soldiers of crow platoon to get into the other vehicles.

“are you dating anyone sarge?” seok-chan smirked “a lot of our boys are seeing someone on the down low, you know?”

“are you?” yeong-hu responded.

“i cant. unless you start dating, i can’t wreck the chain of command”

“i feel no need for it”

“is it because you couldn’t find the right person?..it’s just, well i’ve been thinking and i mean you’re good looking and a survivor, you’re good at killing monsters and as a leader. you’re a prize catch in today’s standards. so, why can’t you get a girl? don’t you think y/n?”

you scoffed “as if anyone would want someone as cold and confusing as your sergeant”

yeong-hu turned his head and shot you a stern look at seok-chan awkwardly laughed.

“she’s probably just joking sarge” he cleared his throat as yeong-hu glared at him “let’s just focus on the mission”

“good idea” you added.

-time skip (im sorry im feeling lazy💀)-

you hated to admit it but going on the expedition with the crow platoon guys was actually pretty interesting and fun. it was the first time in god knows how long that you actually went outside and got hands on.

it was currently raining and you were taking in every second of it as you packed the final bits of medical supplies you had found.

“thank you” you said loudly to yeong-hu and he turned to look at you “really thank you”

yeong-hu was just about to respond but suddenly a loud explosion was heard. everyone’s heads turned to where the sound had come from.

“that came from camp, right?” seok-chan said.

“we need to prepare to head back!” yeong-hu called out loud to everyone and everyone began to get into the trucks.

it was decided to draw the monsters away from the stadium. the crow platoon had a plan, the only problem was that they didn’t get you involved.

“give me a gun. i can help” you demanded.

“forget it. i let you come to help look for supplies, that’s all. leave the rest to us” yeong-hu then opened the truck door for you to get inside.

with a loud huff you gave in and sat in the truck at the platoon men did their thing. once it was over, you found yourself back at the stadium.

you followed yeong-hu and the rest of the platoon members back into camp. you held your bag full of medical supplies on your shoulders, already thinking of places to store your new items.

as you continued on, seargent tak appeared.

“ten hut!” he called out and everyone around you turned to focus on him.

“sir, what was that explosion i heard?” yeong-hu asked stepping forward.

“a women tried to run and triggered a mine earlier. it exploded before we could properly defuse it” sergeant tak explained.

“which platoon member was overseeing them?”

from behind seargent tak, chan-young had approached them.

“I was in charge sir” chan-young stood straight “im private park”

you liked chan-young. he was by far the nicest platoon member out of them all. you didn’t know him well but from what you had seen before, he didn’t have a bad bone in his body.

“it’s behind us now. we moved on” sergeant tak told yeong-hu.

“and the runner? removed. i assume,huh? park chan-young!” yeong-hu was clearly pissed.

“she was showing monster symptoms so we isolated her” chan-young said.

“isolated?” yeong-hu raised an eyebrow.

“i insisted we keep her here.”’

once chan-young said those words, yeong-hu lost it and punched him. he fell into some old metal barrels but stood straight after a second so, yeong-hu punched him again- even harder. chan-young finally fell to the floor and he received a foot to the stomach.

“are you crazy? stop!” you yelled pushing yeong-hu so that he wouldn’t hurt chan-young any further.

“you stay out of this” yeong-hu grit his teeth, his stare like daggers.

if looks could kill, you would’ve been dead.

he then stormed off and you shook your head disappointedly as you helped chan-young get up.

———————————————————————————————

over the next few days, you noticed yeong-hu around. whenever he locked eyes with you, you’d pretend to not notice and whenever it was roll call you’d hope that it wouldn’t be him doing the checks. luckily for you it wasn’t him.

you couldn’t get him out of your head. he’d made an impression on you. good or bad? you didn’t know which one yet. but it was definitely a strong impression. you knew that.

“come with me” one of the platoon members had come to grab you.

“what for?” you were curious. after all, it had come out of no where.

“just come” the member said and began to walk away.

with a sigh you decided to follow.

“through there” the member then gestured for you to go in.

with a gulp, you pushed the door open and stepped inside. and there was yeong-hu. he had his hands on his hips while staring at a map up on a board, his head flicked in your direction and he then turned his full attention to you.

“where have your friends eun-yu and chan-young gone? they’re missing from roll call” yeong-hu asked while looking you up and down.

“how would i know where they are? i don’t keep tabs on them” you shrugged and paused “but…even if i did know, what makes you think i’d tell you. huh?”

“y/n i don’t have time for your childish games. you need to tell me straight if you know where they went”

“i just told you. i don’t know. i didn’t even know they were missing…now, can i go?”

yeong-hu nodded his head and you kissed your teeth as you turned to walk out the room. you were then stopped as you felt a hand on you. the force of the hand made you spin around to face yeong-hu. he was closer than before and you gulped as he scanned your face.

“if you see your friends, you need to tell me immediately” he told you and you nodded lightly.

your heart was beating fast because of how close he was and his hand was oddly warm and soft.

when you finally left the room, you couldn’t help but feel hot. your heart was still beating extremely fast and you hadn’t realised before but yeong-hu was actually really attractive.

stop! you told yourself.

you can’t like him.

you don’t like him.

the rest of the day passed by extremely slowly and you tried to distract yourself by doing different chores. none of it seemed to work as your mind constantly wandered back to one specific person.

that same person also couldn’t get you out of his head. he was trying to focus on his duties but you were constantly lingering in his mind. there was something about you. he couldn’t put his finger on it but he knew he had strong feelings for you. he just didn’t know if they were good or bad.

you tried sleeping. but you couldn’t. instead you were stuck tossing and turning trying to force yourself. it wasn’t working.

after sitting up, you slipped your shoes on and made your way to the crow platoon area. there was only one way to get your mind off that one person. you needed to face your feelings.

you wondered back to the room from earlier. your palms became sweaty once you were stood directly outside the door and your heart began to race. with whatever courage in you, you knocked lightly on the door and when you heard yeong-hu’ voice. you entered.

“y/n, it’s you” yeong-hu was slightly taken aback “have you found out where your friends went?”

you shook your head “sorry, no. i just couldn’t sleep. im guessing it’s the same for you too?”

“oh uh yeah, there’s a lot on my mind”

a silence then filled the room. you suddenly didn’t know what to say. for a while you both then didn’t say a word to one another.

“i should go. you must have a lot of things to do” you awkwardly tried to make an excuse to leave and began to head to the door.

“stay” yeong-hu’ voice was firm and you paused in your tracks.

“what?” you questioned not daring to turn around.

“stay y/n” he repeated.

“i should get going.” you reached forward to grab the door handle.

without warning, yeong-hu stood in front of you and was now blocking the door.

“y/n, there’s something about you. i don’t quite understand it. even when you’re not there, you linger in my mind. i think about you and i shouldn’t.” yeong-hu’ confession caught you off guard.

“what are you saying?” you breathed out, unable to say anything else.

“i like you”

as soon as he said those words you felt a weight being lifted off your shoulders.

he had made it easy for you and your feelings towards him were now clear too.

“i like you too” you couldn’t help the smile that appeared on your face.

yeong-hu brought his hand up to your cheek and gently cupped up. he looked between your eyes and your lips for permission and when you nodded lightly, he leaned forward and pressed your lips together.

and for once everything just felt right.

#kdrama imagine #writing #kdrama x reader #sweet home x reader #sweet home imagines #sweet home #yeong hu x reader #yeong hu fic #yeong hu imagine #sweet home fic #sweet home masterlist #sergeant kim

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 29

John “Soap” MacTavish + Muscle/Body Worship

I’m still exhausted from all my homework and exam prep, but the I’m not gonna let that stop me. Readers older than Soap and is retired from the military.

Kinktober 2023 masterlist.

Retirement was strange for you, especially after having been active in the military for most of your life. Now that you had retired, there was very little to do to fill your day, Especially with Soap away still on active duty. Your relationship was a little strange in the eyes of others, mainly because of your age gap, but you were both adult men with careers when you first met and knew what you wanted.

You spent most of your days doing hobbies, like woodwork or messing with junker cars. The people of the town you and Soap lived in knew you as the older ex-military man who took no shit, but knew how to get even the oldest car running, or creating the wildest things outta wood.

The life outside of the military had taken much stress of your shoulders, but the access to any treat you could want and not being on the move at all times was starting to show. You were still strong as an ox and big in width and height, but as time went on a layer of fat gathered over your muscles. You still looked like you could take down a bear singlehandedly, but insecurity was starting to gather in your chest.

Combine your sudden plush and the grey starting to gather in your hair and beard, the ugly voices in your head started to whisper and murmur. A part of your mind was sure that the moment Soap saw you when he came back from duty, hed turn the other way and run for the hills, as you weren’t the man he had left those months ago.

It was that insecurity that had you pulling on an army fleece jacket, one that still fit and served to hide some of your newer bulk, the day you had to go pick him up from the airport. You were chewing your lip as you leaned against a wall near the back, surrounded by other people greeting their loved ones coming home. When you saw Soap, you almost talked yourself out of calling out for him, but before you could make any decision, he spotted you.

The Scot rushed through the crowd with his army bags, his eyes running up and down your body in a way that had your skin crawling enough that you didn’t notice the hunger that grew in them. He groaned as he hugged you, his bags forgotten on the floor as he kissed you, his arms squeezing around your middle as he couldn’t seem to stop himself from grabbing onto your ass or thighs, squeezing the thicker material of your thighs with an appreciative hum.

Insecurity gnawed in your stomach as you pulled back from Soaps hungry lips, clearing your throat as you reached them to scoop up his bags and lug them over his shoulder. You lover huffed about it for a bit, but you just grinned and made your way towards the car, unaware of the holes Soap was burning in your body as he seemed to take in every change he had missed.

The drive back to your home was spent sharing what you’d both missed, you sharing town gossip, and Soap telling you about 141. As you drove, you almost pulled away as Soap grabbed onto your thigh, his strong hand almost kneading the softer muscle under his palm. But seeing as you were driving, you couldn’t pull away like you wanted too, but Soap seemed to notice your discomfort and pulled his hand to himself with a worried furrow to his brow.

When you got home, you could tell Soap wanted to jump you immediately. It was tradition at this point, after being apart for a while, you two would spend hours expressing the feelings you hadn’t been able too all that time. But the insecurity in your body had you avoiding his advances, even though you had missed him just as much as he had missed you.

His pouting and puppy eyes almost had you throwing your insecurities about your body out the window, but then you would pass by a reflective surface, and you would see your thicker body, your rounder stomach or the extra roundness in your cheeks, and your fears would return tenfold.

This continued for a few days, until Soap finally seemed to have enough as you guys were typically better at talking about anything wrong. You had taken to sleep fully clothed, when in the past all you had slept in were a pair of boxers. That night you two were laying in bed, Soap acting as the big spoon as you liked to switch, his face burrowed in your shoulders as he squeezed your middle.

“God, you’re so fucking hot” he groaned, his hips rolling into your back as he exhaled shakily, his lips pressing against the exposed skin of your neck. You found your face growing hot, along with heat pooling in your gut as he murmured out all the things he thought, a shaky exhale leaving you as he ran his hands up under your shirt.

“The moment I saw you, I almost jumped you then and there, right in the airport” he purred, switching from kisses to bites and sucks. You wanted to retort, to claim he was lying, but the way he panted and ground against your back, his hard cock rutting against you made his point clear. He truly didn’t seem to mind your bodies changes, quite the opposite, he seemed almost rabid with how much he loved it.

“Come on love, roll over” he groaned, withdrawing from your back to grab at your shoulders, rolling you onto your back, but not before wrestling the shirt off your torso. You didn’t even have time to gasp out his name before he descended upon you, grabbing, licking, and sucking hickeys all over your torso, moaning against the fat and muscle of your strong torso.

You gripped onto his mohawk, a shuddery gasp leaving you as he licked and sucked between your thick pecs, his eyes locked on your own, looking half mad and starved as Soap worked his way down your body. “This stomach” he growled, gripping onto your stomach and licking over it, his voice rough and almost worshipping in tone.

“These fuckin thighs” Soap groaned out, pulling your sleep pants down your hips to bury his face between them, gripping them to squeeze them around his head. He looked like a man in heaven as you flexed your thighs carefully, squeezing his head softly between them as he so badly seemed to want.

A curse left you as Soap dug his teeth into the meat of your thigh, working like a man possessed to mark them all over as if to make up for lost time. When he finally seemed to have worked his way all over your body, you found yourself aching hard, a wet spot gathering in your boxers.

Soap almost purred as he ran the flat side of his tongue over your shaft through your boxers, his pupils blown and hair a mess. Wrenching down your boxers, he was upon you like a starved animal, sucking you all the way down his throat even as he gagged and coughed, like all Soap wanted was you to fill his mouth.

The noises were slick and wet as he worked his lips up and down you, one of his hands gripping your thick thigh as the other rolled your balls, his acts akin to worship as Soap moaned and groaned like the act brought him just as much pleasure as it brought you.

It had been a while since you had gotten yourself off, you age playing a factor, as your libido wasn’t as high as it had once been without Soap there, so the end quickly hurdled close. “F-fuck, John” you grunted, voice raspy as he looked down at him, his blue eyes staring up at you with such a deep hunger, his movements growing more desperate and his noises needier.

The grip on his mohawk tightened as you clenched your eyes shut, a deep guttural noise leaving you as you spilled into his mouth, thick spurts of white striking the back of his throat and tongue, Soap moaning louder than you as he gulped it all down like it was a delicacy.

Soap gave a few extra sucks and slurps, just to make sure it was all drawn out of you before withdrawing with a lewd pop, his lips red and wet as he grinned wolfishly. A soft chuckle left you as you fell back onto the pillows, grabbing onto his hips as he clambered on top of you. You both knew it would take a while before you could get hard again, but Soap seemed just as happy to start rutting against your stomach, needy noises leaving him as you moved his hips for him in a tight grip.

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #john soap mactavish #cod #call of duty #john soap mactavish imagine #john soap mactavish headcanon #john soap mactavish x male reader #john soap mactavish x reader #cod imagine #cod headcanon #cod x male reader #cod x reader #call of duty imagine #call of duty headcanon #call of duty x male reader #call of duty x reader #john mactavish imagine #john mactavish headcanon #john mactavish x male reader #john mactavish x reader

[kichiyosh1]

Me or my mother?

scaramouche/kunikuzushi x reader

slight angst/comfort

w//: if you squint (or even if you don't) I would say this counts as a yandere kuni aswell! just cuz he is really jelly and possesive of you in this one

Let's say Ei did keep the puppet and had given him a new purpose to live freely, but due to her busy schedule, she has you keep him company. Soon, Kunikuzushi begins to realize how frequent you are to leave him for when his mother calls for you, and from there his anxiety grows. Is it jealousy or insecurity? heck if I know!

Kunikuzushi was free to stay in his mother's estate, same as he was also allowed to visit the streets of Inazuma if he ever so wishes, but that currently isn't his main objective of the day.

"Kunikuzushi!" Ah, what great timing you have.

Right from the moment he opened his eyes after what felt like a long dream, all he was able to recall from the scene was that you had stepped forward bowing your head.

"I would be honored to serve you both, my Archon."

"Excellent, then you shall be entrusted with this task."

It had only been a few weeks since then, but the puppet had already grown very attached to you, to the point you can see the visible frown on his adorable face whenever there were other duties you had to attend to. The longing looks and the hesitant grip he'd have on your sleeve along with how meek and tiny his voice would get, it really was an effective way to keep you rooted into place, and the fact that he did all this unbeknownst to even him? It really showed how innocent of a person he was. Just wants your attention is all.

"y/n! good morning, how nice of you to drop by," yeah, like he wasn't already anticipating your arrival. "Good morning to you as well, oh, I came here to drop off a few things." In your hands was a tray of food, and despite his unecessary need for it, he was insistent on trying your cooking, even willing to choke on some sweets and desserts if it meant he'd be eating food that you made just for him. "Mhm smells good, say, why don't we share the meal, I think you deserve to eat a portion of your own cooking too, right?" Giddily taking hold of the tray, ready to lead you to his place in the estate when he sees you're not following him.

"Is something the matter?"

"Nothing that should concern you too much, the Electro Archon has called me in for the day to discuss matters concerning—" His mother called for you? "Oh, unfortunately I didn't have time to prepare your food since I was busy arranging my materials, so I had one of the maids make it for you. Please go on without me, it won't take long I promise." You were already facing the opposite direction before you could finish your sentence. "Eat well kunikuzushi!" you turned your head with a wave, while all he could do was stand there, his eyes switching between the tray in his hands and your disappearing figure.

He was confused by two things, one: how could you leave him there so quickly? and two: so this ISN'T your cooking?

"Why would I eat something prepared by a stranger? blegh." He set the tray down and stuck his tongue out in a childishly manner, displeasure written all over his face and gesture with his hands curled to his chest, like he was scared the food would jump out at him or something.

"I-I wasn't hungry anyways, I'll just wait until you get back." he says to himself nodding his head, since there was no y/n in the vicinity for him to say that to. What a silly little man.

He's come to the realization that your meetings with the shogun have become more frequent, more than he would like

It was cutting off his quality time with you

Sure that's his mom you're meeting with and you basically work for her but you were also assigned to him weren't you? Which means you should be here by his side right now attending to HIS needs, not hers >:(

Why did she have to pick you of all people anyway? there are plenty others in the estate that are at her beck and call, so why did it have to be his dear y/n :(

You said it was nothing to worry about, oh but it was worrying HIM very, very much

He's tried different methods so you wouldn't have to attend those stupid meetings, latching on to you and blocking your path, the most desperate one of his attempts was probably locking you up in his room, it didn't last long though since you threatened him you'd ask for a transfer if he continued acting like this (which you meant playfully but it almost gave kuni a heart attack)

It was like watching a puppy stand by it's door waiting for it's master to come home

and everytime you would return, you would always have something to say about ei. "she was in a good mood today"," she thaught me techniques in order to do my work more efficiently." the meeting was already over so why were you still mentioning her?

With how much time you had gone from him, he was starting to think you enjoyed his mother's company more, was that it?

Was his childish personality to immature for you? do you prefer if he had that same strict and authoritive demeanor his mother had? Were you really going through with that threat of yours? wanting to transfer?

Do you really like her more than him?

Now he just HAD to be in one of those meetings, it was a must he got to the bottom of this before he goes absolutely crazy, and to his suprise you agreed to bring him to your next one

So there he was, sat a little way from you.

Oh, so was it usuall just you and his mother alone during these? which means all your attention would be on her right?

oh hell nah, she's trying to steal you away from him wasn't she?!

Kunikuzushi was quick to shoo you out of there once his mother dismissed you

cue sad ei noises because her son didn't eat any of the deserts she prepared

When you asked him why he was so quick to leave you were thrown with the most sudden question

"...what was that?"

"Me or my mother? It shouldn't be hard for you to decide right?" He was obviously the only right answer, so why was it taking awhile for you to reply?

"Are you really contemplating this...?" He had repeated this question many times in his head, and he swore everytime that he wasn't going to cry, but now that it was out there in the open he could feel liquid pulling in his eyes. Were these what you humans called tears? a product of ones sadness and frustration?

"What reason would I have to choose between-"

"You've been 'hanging' out with her more recently! we used to spend all day together but we barely have time for that anymore because you're always quick to leave me when it concerns her. Is it because you've already grown tired of me? you like her more than me..?"

The amount of hurt written on his face and heard in his trembling voice had you grimacing at your actions. You never intended for him to feel this way, you had no idea he was hurting on the inside because of your ignorance. So you took a step, slowly to not startle him as if he were some corner creature, handling it with the utmost care you've always had, reserved only for him.

"My sweet, darling kunikuzushi." You start, craddling his face so that he'd meet your eyes, letting him know he had your full attention.

"I apologize for my actions. I had failed to see the pain you felt and made you feel neglected, but know that I would never choose anything or anyone over you, no matter what or who they might be."

His tears have fallen, but not even a sniffle was let out, as he made sure he was able to hear your voice, the voice he had missed speaking to him, loud and clear.

"The reason for this is because her personal attendant hasn't been present as of late due to a sickness they caught. Your mother thought i'd be good to fill in for the meantime, and this way I would also be able to report to her regarding your wellbeing."

That was the genuine truth, and he believes you, and as you continued speaking he slowly let his arms engulf you, a sigh of relief escaping him as you continued giving him words of reassurance.

He was content with your answer, but before he could be truly satisfied he needed to hear you say it.

"You still didn't answer my question."

"Which one?"

"Me or my mother? This time I'm only giving you three seconds to-"

"You, kuni. I'll always choose you, but do keep in mind I still work for her."

You let out a chuckle as kunikuzushi let out a pout, puffing his cheeks and crossing his arms, back to his usual self you see.

"Hmph, I should still be your top priority, always, the same as you are mine."

"Alright, alright, you really can be childish sometimes, but that's one of the things I love about you."

and with that, kunikuzushi could finally sleep peacefully, knowing his chances of having you to himself are high up there, so goodluck getting to your next meeting.

(I DIDN'T PROOF READ BUT I DON'T THINK IT'S THAT BAD)

#genshin impact x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer #wanderer x reader #kabukimono #kabukimono x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #yandere scaramouche x reader #yandere scaramouche

[itsswritten]

when the sea calls for three | 1

Paring: Azriel x Reader x Eris

Word Count: 5K

Summary: In the aftermath of war, peace reigns over the realms of Prythian, but the delicate balance hangs in the hands of two unlikely mediators—You and Lucien. As the newly appointed Emissaries of Peace, your duty is clear: maintain alliances, foster understanding between courts, and navigate the intricate webs of fae politics.

But when fate deals an unexpected twist, revealing that you possess not one, but two mates, the tranquillity you've worked so hard to uphold is suddenly threatened. Caught between two males who refuse to share, you find yourself thrust into a precarious position, torn between duty and desire.

What will you do and who will you choose?

Intro | Masterlist

The Dawn's Meeting Chamber, served as the esteemed location for all court attended meetings. Through previous trials and tribulations, and now amidst the settled peace, its significance remained steadfast. Thesan, your own High Lord, presided with grace and authority, embodying the essence of a perfect host.

And despite this being a time of peace, alliances were still rocky. Dawn served as the perfect neutral territory. 

Cushioned oak chairs were meticulously arranged in a circle around the reflection room,  offering a comfortable seat for attendees. Positioned opposite each other on either side of the reflective pool, you and Lucien stood poised amidst the chairs. He occupied the twelfth hour, while you claimed the 6th, a silent yet powerful representation of the balance and harmony you held within your new positions. 

Up until this moment, the weight of such responsibility had never rested upon your shoulders. For years, you had drifted through various roles within the Dawn Court, from the serene halls of the Library, the bustling markets of the city and the melodies of the theatre. Even during the war, Thesan had recognised your unique talents and utilised you on the border, a role that had never quite settled comfortably within you.

As a soldier in the midst of conflict, you had often felt like a square peg in a round hole, grappling with a sense of unease that gnawed at your core. It was as if you were searching for something, yet never quite finding where you belonged. Perhaps it was because you were different, your nature straddling the line between worlds in a way that defied easy categorisation.

As much as you passed for High Fae, it was clear to those who truly listened, that wasn’t the case. 

So when Lucien came to you with his proposition, a plea wrapped in a promise of purpose and significance, you couldn't bring yourself to refuse him. For the first time in your life, an opportunity had arisen that held the potential to make a tangible difference, to offer a sense of fulfilment, a sense of belonging.

A subtle exchange of nods and smiles passed between you and your friend. With a confident stance and a lifted chin, you prepared to address the esteemed gathering.

As the chamber filled with representatives from the solar courts, the seasonal courts, and the human alliance, a palpable sense of anticipation hung in the air. You and Lucien exchanged respectful greetings with the High Lord and Ladies in attendance, bowing your heads to their esteemed positions.

Once everyone was settled, Lucien stepped forward to take his place at the head of the meeting, assuming the role of leader with poise and authority. With a nod of approval from Thesan, the meeting commenced, setting the stage for discussions that would hopefully shape the future of the fae lands and beyond.

Lucien’s voice rang out, commanding the attention of all present. You felt the swell of pride fill your chest. That was your best friend. Lucien had been selected by all courts for this role, and you couldn’t envision anyone better. 

A kind male, with a huge heart and smart mind. He was perfect for this.

"We are here today in the first allied meeting of peace since the cessation of hostilities," he began, his tone measured yet commanding. "It is a testament to our collective efforts and determination that we gather here today in pursuit of peace and prosperity for all."

Pausing briefly to allow his words to resonate, Lucien continued, his gaze sweeping across the assembled dignitaries. "This is a pivotal moment for our land, a time to address any lingering concerns, to foster open dialogue, and to reaffirm our commitments to cooperation and understanding."

He gestured with open arms towards the reflective pool at the centre of the chamber, "I invite each of you to speak freely, to raise any issues or grievances regarding borders, trade agreements, or any other matters that may impact the stability of our realms."

Lucien had set the tone for the meeting, and you gave him a proud smile in return when his eyes flickered over you. You, along with Lucien and the courts were shaping the course of the future. A better future for everyone.

You had never been a part of these meetings before, but from what Lucien had shared, they usually didn’t go well. Before the most recent peace treaty, Lucien had briefed you on the usual hostility that hung in these meetings. Hostility so rife, that Lucien’s own brother, Eris, had almost met his end at the hands of the Shadowsinger. 

A male who you had spotted as soon as he had entered the chamber. How could anyone miss him? His features were chiselled and angular, with sharp cheekbones and a strong jawline that clenched as he listened to the conversations of the room. He demanded a dark ethereal beauty that was all encompassing. You were smart enough not to let your eyes linger too long when he first arrived, but now while everyone was distracted by debate you took a moment to take him in.

Azriel stood tall and imposing behind his High Lord and Lady. You and Lucien had restricted how many attendees were allowed in these new meetings. High Lords and Ladies of the court were allowed to bring up to two attendees, whether that be scholars, soldiers, courtiers. Whoever they deemed fit. These were meetings of peace, there was no need to flex muscle and power.

It seemed the Night Court had selected their Spymaster for attendance with them today; his presence spoke volumes of the Night Court's cautious approach to diplomacy. Especially after what Lucien had shared about the Shadowsingers unrestrained actions of the last meeting.

His dark hair fell in sleek short waves, framing his face. The black strands were a stark contrast to those hazel eyes. Beside him, his shadows lingered, a constant and enigmatic presence at his side. Though you had grown accustomed to their role as messengers in your correspondence, it was a whole other experience seeing them now in the flesh, accompanying their master.

You were aware of his delicate relationship with Lucein, the crossfires they had found themselves in regarding Lucien’s mate. And although you’re not entirely sure what went down, the repercussions left neither males fostering any type of relationship with Elain. 

Azriel’s expression was inscrutable, much like his earlier cryptic letters you had exchanged with him over the past two months. Hard to decipher. 

Perhaps it was your natural charm, or your way with words though, that managed to entice the Shadowsinger to show a different side. It was exactly 2 weeks of correspondence before the tone started to change.

Before officially taking on the role of Emissary, Lucien had to request approval for you to join him. In the meantime, you took on the difficult task of helping Spring Court. Those earlier weeks were dire, Tamlin would hide in his vine covered house and you were left to pick up the pieces best you could. Surprisingly it was Azriel’s letters that you received the most, him wanting daily updates on Tamlin and the progress of the court. No doubt, his own High Lord breathing down his neck for all information regarding his mate's ex lover.

Your notes were always polite and concise, but when writing to Lucien you often signed them off in jest. And after a particularly depressing update on the Spring Court, you signed at the end.

Send prayers, I worry I won’t even make it till Solstice. 

You signed with a scribble of a sad face, knowing Lucien would read your sarcasm well. However, thanks to the Shadowsigner’s meddlesome shadows, Lucien’s and Azriels letters somehow got swapped. So when you were expecting some witty remark from Lucien, it was in fact Azriel that took you by surprise.

I worry you won’t too…and what a shame that would be.

It was a taunting reply, one you hadn’t expected but made you smirk all the same.

A shame indeed… but do you doubt my capabilities, Shadowsinger? I’ll have you know, I am to be the new Emissary of Peace.

I know exactly who you are, y/n.

That had just been the beginning of your playful mockery, and there was a small part of you that felt guilty for looking forward to his messages so much. Especially considering who he was to Lucien. But you couldn’t help but reply. Spring Court had been so dreary, it was sometimes the only thing to lighten up your day.

You were intrigued to hear Azriel’s voice, hear what the ripples of his vocal cords would reveal. What did your pen pal sound like? What else would you discover about the Shadowsinger, now his court resided under you? 

༄ 

Your eyes carefully swept over the other attendees, absorbing the nuances of their discussions and concerns. Kallias's voice carried across the chamber as he delved into the intricacies and concerns of trade agreements between Summer. His worries about the quality of products traversing such diverse climates were evident, but you knew how desperately Summer needed the trade.

Tarquin was the youngest in the room beside Feyre– the Night Court's High Lady. 

The first High Lady ever you reminded yourself. 

With Summer now falling under your jurisdiction, you couldn't help but feel a sense of empathy for the younger ruler, still finding his footing amidst the complexities of court politics. He had never even ruled during a time of peace when the only concerns were whether his goods would freeze as soon as they crossed the Winter border.

This is where you came in. This was your job. Maintaining vital exchanges for the prosperity of all involved.

As Kallias concluded his remarks, you chose that moment to interject, your voice cutting through the air with quiet authority. "You've made such a valid point, Kallias," you acknowledged, drawing the attention of the room toward you for the first time.

Your voice was soft and gentle, yet filled the room with a warmth that perhaps these meetings had always lacked. 

“I know it’s been a long time since trade as ran between the courts, and we want to make this transition as smooth and successful for everyone”

Your gaze shifted to Helion, the High Lord of Day, a thoughtful expression on his face as he observed you. "I wonder if this is something Day could help with," you continued, laying out your proposal with careful deliberation.

“Solan, your spell weaver has quite the talent for weathered charms. His expertise is extraordinary, I’ve seen his work” You sung the Day’s residents praises brightly.

You had met Solan many years ago when he collaborated with Nuan on one of her ingenious inventions. 

“I believe he has the capabilities to create such a charm that could assist with smooth tradings and deliveries, across all the seasonal courts” 

To win the favour of this notion, it would have to benefit not only Summer.

Helion met your gaze, his eyes betraying a hint of intrigue as he considered your suggestion. "You are correct," he conceded, nodding in agreement. "Solan could create such a spell. But of course at a cost."

“Of course,” you smiled. You wouldn’t expect anything less.

Tarquin's smile was genuine but soft as he responded, "That is something Summer would be happy to discuss."

“As would Spring” Tamlin spoke. A quietness settled after, his transgressions still creating an uncomfortable tension.

Your eyes flickered to the familiar auburn hair of Eris, someone you had not seen in years. He merely nodded reluctantly, almost as if he detested how smooth that had been.

“I will speak with Solan, and be in touch shortly, gentleman” Helion said with grace, sending you a smile and a soft wink.

Turning back to Kallias, you addressed his concerns directly, offering the solution. "With Solan's expertise, we can ensure that shipments between courts are unaffected by weather conditions," you assured him. 

"Send me a quote Helion '' Kallias nodded beside his wife, mate, Vivnae– the second High Lady in history. “As long as the goods maintain their quality, I’m happy to move forward with confidence."

A sense of relief washed over you at the resolution. You were smooth, decisive and quick.

༄ 

As your perceptive gaze traversed the room, meticulously dissecting the nuances of each attendee's demeanour, listening to their breaths, smacking of lips and the clicking on tongues. It all revealed so much. You could hear it within the unspoken. 

Your eyes abruptly came to a halt upon falling into a familiar amber gaze—the penetrating stare of Eris Vanserra.

His eyes locked on yours like a hawk. A tight smirk graced Eris's lips as his gaze roved over your form with a predatory intensity, sending a subtle shiver down your spine that you quickly suppressed.

You couldn't help but notice the subtle changes in his appearance—the shorter hair that framed his features in a way that suited him, a departure from the longer locks that had once adorned his head. You wondered if he had cut his hair before or after he had killed his father? Or had he cut his hair for that reason alone?

A new chapter. Cut the dead weight. Just like he’d cut down Beron.

To kill a parent. To kill your own father. Not that Beron didn’t have it coming, it was rightfully deserved but you wondered what toll that would have on someone. You knew of the scars Beron had left on his sons, even if they hadn’t told you. You had always heard under their words. And you hoped now, that they could heal and find some semblance of peace with their monster of a father gone.

Memories flooded back of a time when your mother would take you for playdates in Autumn. Eris along with his brothers would often tease you. It was because of those moments you and Lucien had gotten so close. Seeking unity in one another when hiding together as children from his older brother's taunts.

Eris was the kinder one out of the pack, at least back then. Perhaps kind wasn’t the right word to choose, but he was indifferent to you. He stood out as a somewhat mitigating force. Being the eldest and already grown, his words always carried a sharp edge, laced with venomous undertones, however there was a distinct lack of malice directed at you. Eris would often intercede his brothers teasing with biting remarks, questioning the rationale behind their actions when they would corner you and Lucein. 

I didn’t realise you were so weak that you had to pick on our baby brother and his little friend.

Perhaps if you weren’t so obsessed with Lucien and his little girlfriend you might have figured how to channel fire by now.

Why do you always bother her, do you like her? Should I tell Father about your little crush on the girl from Dawn?

His words were often curt and abrasive, but they never failed to disrupt the relentless onslaught of ridicule. You were young then, your ability had only reared its head in your early adulthood. But you wondered what you might have noticed within his words if you had been able to hear.

Your loyalties always lay with Lucien, but as much as you hated to admit it- you couldn't deny the undeniable allure of the eldest Vanserra brother. Sure, Lucien was undeniably beautiful, that was a fact you didn't need reminding of. But there was an enigmatic quality to Eris that had always intrigued you. In your early adulthood, you often caught yourself searching for the eldest Vanserra brother during your visits to Lucien, a secret desire you hoped Lucien never caught wind of.

You pulled your eyes away, not allowing him the satisfaction of noticing any indifference on you. You honed into the rest of the discussions, aiding Lucien when needed to keep conversations moving freely and light.

The new peace treaty between the courts and the humans was still fresh and hung delicately in the air. Despite the fervent desire for discussions to revolve solely around diplomatic relations and fostering harmony, there were inevitably topics that couldn't be skirted around.

Rhysand had taken charge of ensuring that any lingering remnants of former enemies were swiftly disbanded. It appeared that, for the time being, any remaining threats had retreated into the shadows.

Good. You hoped they withered away in their caves. The resentment you harboured against the people who had caused your home, your land so much pain was something you were sure everyone in this room could relate to.

With a successful conclusion the meeting came to an end, leaving you with ample opportunity to mingle among the courts and assess the collective mood and gain insight to how this inaugural gathering had been perceived. A quick look at Lucien told you everything you needed to know, and you both swiftly walked in opposite directions to begin addressing the courts independently.

Tamlin was first on your left. And you offered him a respectful bow and small smile.

“Heard you’re abandoning me” there was that bitterness that always hung on his words nowadays. However the depressive lull of his tone wasn’t as prevalent as it once was.

“Tamlin” you spoke softly, with an endearing look. “Your court is about to embark on it’s renewal, something you should be tremendously proud of.”

His features were set in a tight expression, lines of frustration etched into his brow as he regarded you with a mixture of wariness and scepticism. His once noble visage now bore the marks of weariness and resentment, a shadow of the High Lord he had once been.

You continued “But with Lucien once being your emissary, we felt he had the best expertise when it came to resettling some of your residents, I’m sure seeing a familiar face will be reassuring to them” Tamlin's response was guarded, his jaw clenched as he absorbed your words. He couldn’t deny you were right.

You usually always were.

"Of course, I'm only a correspondence away if you truly need my help," you reassured him, reaching forward to give his forearm a delicate squeeze. "Don't be a stranger, Tamlin."

With a reluctant nod, Tamlin conceded to your words, his expression softening ever so slightly as he bid you farewell and winnowed away.

That went better than expected, you thought. Grateful that Tamlin’s days of tantrums seemed to be over, but you did worry for him and his court. You hoped he and Lucien would be able to work through their problems together and get Spring flourishing once more.

You knew of the friction between Tamlin and other courts, particularly Night. It was not lost on you. Lucien had provided insight into the underlying conflicts and grievances, filling you in on the gaps that gossip hadn’t shared. While you understood the ramifications of Tamlin's actions, you couldn't help but feel a sense of compassion for the Spring Court and its inhabitants.

You wanted to see Spring thrive once more, to provide a safe haven for those who had spent their lives within its borders. This was a goal both you and Lucein shared.

As Tarquin approached with a radiant smile, his white hair flowing gracefully over his blue and gold attire, you returned the gesture with a respectful bow of your head. His presence exuded warmth and vitality, his rich brown skin glowing under the gentle rays of dawn that filtered into the room.

"I believe you'll be taking care of Summer," he remarked, his smile widening as he acknowledged your new role.

"Tarquin, Varian," you greeted, inclining your head towards both him and his attendee with a bow. "I'm looking forward to supporting you both, and I have to say… I am a lover of the sun and sea, so I'm sure my visits to Summer will be my weekly highlight," you added with a light smirk, hoping to sweeten the interaction with a touch of flattery.

"I hope that will be the case,” Tarquin replied warmly, his tone filled with genuine enthusiasm. As he took your hand, you felt a rush of warmth as he pressed a gentle kiss upon it. “I look forward to our relationship and seeing what we can do together for my court, and of course for all of Prythian," he bid you farewell, and with a nod to Varian, they both winnowed away.

You didn’t need to rely on your ability to hear the unspoken to understand what that was. It was evident in the way Tarquin looked at you. A genuine fondness in his eyes, a warmth that spoke volumes. It was clear that he liked you…and attention from a handsome High Lord was not something you were opposed to. 

You felt a gaze and you looked back gently to see Lucien giving you a knowing look with a slight smirk. He’d seen the interaction then. You’re sure he’d have something snarky to say later about it.

༄ 

You were left with the looming shadowy energy that had been in the corner of the room – the Night Court. Azriel was to greet you first, stepping away as his High Lord and Lady were engrossed in a conversation with Winter.

You turned to the Shadowsinger, your hand outstretched in a very human gesture of greeting, a deliberate choice made by you and Lucien to foster bridges with both the Fae and humans. Adopting some of their mannerisms wouldn’t hurt. Plus, Azriel was your equal; you would not bow to him.

Azriel hesitated for a moment, a fleeting pause that had you searching for its cause. But that reluctance dissolved as you felt his large hand envelop yours. You felt the jagged edges of lines on his palm pressing against your soft skin, scars that covered every inch of his hand, that had you curious to what had caused such a thing. Without glancing down, your eyes remained locked on the Shadowsinger's gaze as you gently squeezed his hand back in a firm shake.

“It’s nice to finally put a name to a face,” Azriel spoke as your hands parted.

“I hope I don’t disappoint,” you teased, the words slipping out before you could stop them. Perhaps it was the familiarity that had grown in these past weeks that allowed such a remark to escape.

A glint of something unfamiliar flickered in Azriel’s eye, his lips quirking into a slight smirk. But before you could hear his words, you sensed the powerful presence of another, and you swiftly turned to bow to the Night Court's High Lord and Lady.

“Rhysand, it’s been a long time. It’s good to see you again,” you greeted warmly, recalling brief encounters at events when you were both much younger, before he’d even ascended to High Lord. 

Rhys nodded in agreement before introducing you to Feyre.

“Your reputation precedes you,” you remarked, turning to the High Lady, who returned your smile.

Cursebreaker. Cauldron-blessed. High Lady of the Night Court.

“As does yours. Lucien said he was enlisting the help of a trusted friend. Glad to see another female in the room,” Feyre replied, her tone light and welcoming.

“Ah, yes.” You gave a knowing nod to the outdated misogynistic rules of the land “I have a long-term plan. Just give it a year, and I believe it will be us females who dominate these meetings,” you joked playfully.

“Now that is something I would like to see,” Rhys teased, nudging his mate playfully.

Feyre laughed lightly before continuing, her voice carrying a warm tone. “We’ve been told we fall under your jurisdiction now.”

You nodded, acknowledging the shift. “I will be splitting my time equally across the courts under my care.”

“I’m glad,” Feyre replied, her gaze thoughtful. “Azriel said you were quite adept in your work. You've apparently got Spring Court back up and running”

You smiled at the mention of Azriel's appraisal. You noticed him shuffling slightly on his feet at his mention, his shadows swirling around him in an almost teasing manner “Nice to know someone was singing my praises,” you quipped, but you heard the unspoken words of Feyre’s remark. 

You knew of her time in Spring, a time she was definitely not fond of. But you could hear in her words that she was digging for something. “Sure, me and Tamlin have been able to collaborate for the renewal of his court. I’m pleased it has been so successful, to finally have it’s residents returning home”

Whether that was the response Feyre was hoping for you’re not sure, but she merely nodded her head. You excused yourself from their company to finally greet the flickering energy that had been heating it’s way across the room to you. You stood before Eris, his imposing presence overshadowed by his two brothers snickering behind him as you offered a respectful bow.

“Eris.” you greeted respectfully. There was a part of you that had been hesitant to look after Autumn, however you couldn’t bear the thought of leaving them under Lucien. 

Eris merely smirked, his demeanour suggesting he relished the moment you had to bow before him. He reached out, his touch warm yet firm as he grasped your wrist and examined your sleeve with a critical eye.

“Leaves, really? I thought flames best represented my court,” he remarked, his tone teasing.

You withdrew your hand quickly, his touch feeling oddly inappropriate in the formal setting. It served as a stark reminder that regardless of your newfound title, you would always be seen as his little brother's best friend.

Swallowing hard, you met his gaze with narrowed eyes, defending your choice of attire. “Autumn has always symbolised a transitional time within the seasons, a new beginning. I felt it best represented the fresh start we are embarking on. I thought it mirrored the new chapter you seek as well.”

Eris’s brothers rolled their eyes behind him, but you held your ground, unyielding in your stance. Eris couldn’t refute your words; you had spoken the truth. With Beron’s reign over, Eris was indeed ushering in a new era for his court.

“You and your pretty words…” Eris mused, his tone bordering on slight admiration.

“I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know your court falls under my jurisdiction,” you announced confidently.

“Oh good, do we get you for two months as well? Or do you only whore yourself off to Tamlin?” one of Eris’s brothers interjected with a crude remark. Eris shot his brother with a deathly reprimanding glance that shut him up instantly.

You bit back a retort, knowing that maintaining composure was paramount. Especially in this setting.

Instead you would use your pretty words and smart mouth.

“I didn’t realise Autumn felt neglected. I’ll make a note,” you replied evenly. “I will be visiting Autumn for two days every week, if that suffices. But if your court is in dire need of additional support, I can inquire with the other courts about allocating more time to you.”

“That will not be needed,” Eris replied curtly, cutting off any further discussion on the matter. He would not have any insinuation that his court needed support, that his reign was weak.

That was exactly the response you had expected. You gave him a knowing look, his stare challenging yours as a small smirk played on his lips. He was enjoying this you realised, enjoying your company, enjoying the challenge you presented. And as he gently licked his bottom lip, his gaze still prowling over you, you realised he was enjoying what he was seeing too.

As you stood in the midst of the exchange with Eris, you noticed a slight movement out of the corner of your eye. Sensing the shift in energy, you turned slightly to glance over your shoulder, finding the piercing gaze of the Shadowsinger fixed upon Eris. His eyes bore into Eris with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine, an unmistakable venom simmering beneath the surface.

You were aware of their previous altercation, but you hadn’t realised how deep their hatred ran.

The Shadowsinger didn’t like any of the Vanserra brothers then– noted.

Eris, catching the subtle exchange, rolled his eyes lightly, a small huff escaping his lips, barely noticeable to anyone but you. 

"It'll be nice to see you among the autumn leaves again, y/n," Eris purred with an air of indifference before he and his brothers swiftly winnowed away. However for a split second you swore you saw it. When his amber eyes fell back to yours, you swore you saw that kindness he always kept hidden.

༄ 

As the last of the attendees left the meeting chamber, you and Lucien shared a glance, a mixture of relief and satisfaction evident in both your expressions.

"I think that went well," you remarked, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Lucien nodded in agreement, linking his arm with yours. "Better than expected, considering the diverse personalities we had to deal with." he chuckled with an eye roll.

You nodded in agreement, smiling softly with a playful glint in your eye. "Looks like the real work begins now, eh?"

Lucien laughed heartily, falling into step beside you as you made your way out of the chamber. 

“Make sure you’re being careful though” Lucien said in a moment of seriousness. You tilted your head to look at him, trying to understand what he meant in that. 

Was it your interaction with Tarquin, or something else entirely?

"I’m always careful Lucie” You replied, offering a reassuring smile before pivoting back.  “Let the peacekeeping begin." You declared, your fist pumping the air with determination.

Lucien couldn't resist a playful jab, muttering under his breath, "Why does this feel more like we're babysitting everyone?"

Laughter bubbled between the two of you as you exited the meeting chamber, ready to embrace the challenges of maintaining peace and unity among the courts.

How hard could peacekeeping be anyway?

Next Part >>

a/n: Sorry this took so long, and again I'm still setting the role and relationships up so it's gonna be a slow burn- but bare with! It'll be worth it <3 would love to know your thoughts on it all! Enjoyyyy - Lottie xx

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #acotar azriel #angst #acotar fanfiction #acotar series #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #eris x azriel #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #azriel x eris

[silk-fl0wers]

❝May I hug you?❞

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

Characters: Kaeya, Diluc, Zhongli, Baizhu, Ayato, Dainsleif

Warning(s): Established relationship in all, lower case will be used in the short fics

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Which one of you will be the first ask for a hug? And what does it feel like when one of you are in the arms of the other?

> Gn!Reader

❅ ᴋᴀᴇʏᴀ

You’re the first one to ask!

: ̗̀➛ There has been times where you’ve pondered on the thought as to why Kaeya hasn’t ever once hugged you during your relationship together.

: ̗̀➛ Maybe he’s testing and teasing you to see how long it would take for you to ask for one or maybe that he’s taking into consideration if you’d like or dislike it and is cautious about it. But those questions would only last for today as you’d like to test it out once he comes back home from his knightly duties…

‿‿‿‿

(Short fic below plus more under the cut!)

"May I hug you?”

Upon the blue haired cavalry captains arrival he had been dumbfounded by your bold question and could only lean on the frame of the door to his office. "Well, well, I never thought I would be hearing this in all my days with you," you only could roll your eyes at his words as you trudged towards him and enveloped his waist.

He could start to feel his cheeks heat up with the contact of your arms around his waist, feeling tingles from his arms to his cheeks too. Bit by bit he embraces you back and pulls you in just a bit closer to his body. "Hm, I quite like this very much. Perhaps we could stay like this for a little while more wouldn't you agree, my love?"

His warm breath grazing upon your skin and his voice giving you a little shiver from it. Without a word you silently nod your head as you heaved a big sigh, relaxing in the arms of your beloved.

────────── 〔✿〕──────────

❅ ᴅɪʟᴜᴄ

You’re the first one to ask!

‿‿‿‿

: ̗̀➛ Despite his cold and serious nature you can't deny that his fluffy red hair and that large coat with the large ruffles does make him look quite huggable.

: ̗̀➛ You're quite lucky to be called his partner because if it were to be anyone else he would've given them a displeased look and avoid them. So, with that luck on your side you wait behind the doors of Dawn Winery for his shift at the Angel's Share to come to an end...

"May I hug you?”

Asking the renowned red haired tycoon after he came back from a tiring shift — Drained, really — because of serving specificly two patrons of his that won't leave him alone for most time. He’s bewildered at the sudden request when he had first stepped foot into the winery, his coat did reek of the smell of wine but thankfully it partly does smell of berries like his beloved grapes.

"Oh, well if you wish to then your request shall be fulfilled." He opens his arms for you to come into them and as you did he embraces you right up to his chest. You start to think that he's enjoying the hug very much to the point that Adelinde and Elzer caught the act and are now standing from afar and smiling at the small yet adorable act.

❅ ᴢʜᴏɴɢʟɪ

────────── 〔✿〕──────────

You’re the first one to ask!

: ̗̀➛ You've wondered what it would feel like to wrap your arms around his waist, the thought of it alone has you heating up and malfunctioning more than you had expected it to.

: ̗̀➛ The one and only funeral director, Hu Tao, has even encouraged you to ask him for a hug wanting to see how the usual calm man would possibly break. And so the two of you are now waiting for him to come back from an errand as Hu Tao had hid somewhere else...

────────── 〔✿〕──────────

‿‿‿‿

"May I hug you?"

Getting more nervous and how you're now starting to regret ever accepting this. The ex-geo archon stood in front of you with a bewildered look on his face but relaxed it now bubbling from his mouth was a chuckle.

"And pray tell, what made you act like this all of a sudden? If it is what you really want then come here my love." Enveloping you into a warm embrace. You do the same as you feel his chest rise up and down with each breath he took, it almost felt ethereal to wear if you closed your eyes even for a bit you could be off into the best slumber you could have in your life.

And Hu Tao, well she had a kamera with her and decided to take a picture of the small moment and would decide if she should show it to the both of you but for now she had quietly exited the room to give you two love birds some time to yourselves.

❅ ʙᴀɪᴢʜᴜ

You’re the first one to ask!

: ̗̀➛ You’re very much well aware of his weak physicality and that he most likely can’t do much affectionate actions like carrying you, allowing you to sit on his lap or basically anything that can involve in carrying you to an extent. Although that won’t stop him from giving you kisses and gentle hugs though the only problem here is that he’s working all the time and you’re positive that he wouldn’t appreciate it if you randomly went up to him and hug him while he’s assisting with the clients.

: ̗̀➛ Waiting for the right moment to pop the question you make sure that there was no other clients around and Herbalist Gui and Qiqi is out of sight. With these things in mind you gather all of your confidence and walk up to the well known pharmacist in Liyue and asked him the question…

‿‿‿‿

“May I hug you?”

You were standing awkwardly at your place, your eyes darting everywhere around you but a certain doctor. The said doctor had turned his attention away from the medicine bottles to you and smiled. “My, my. Well that was very out of the blue, dear. Why of course you may, go easy on your grip though,” He chuckled to himeself as he sets aside Changsheng to the table.

Opening his arms for you, you take slow strides towards him and wrap your arms around his bare waist making sure that your grip wasn’t to deathly for him to handle. Baizhu followed your lead and wrapped his arms just below your shoulders and started to gently pat your back which made you jump at first but eased into it. “Hmm, this feel quite nice. We’ll have to do this more often when people aren’t around.”

────────── 〔✿〕──────────

❅ ᴋᴀᴍɪꜱᴀᴛᴏ ᴀʏᴀᴛᴏ

He is the first one to ask!

‿‿‿‿

: ̗̀➛ Kamisato Ayato, the leader of the Yashiro Commission. He’s working ever so hard and rarely has time to attend in any outdoor activities or to accompany his sister on said activities and in his stead he asks for Thoma to step in.

: ̗̀➛ On this day though you're sat right beside of him reading a book as he too is doing some reading but on festival's for Narukami Island that will be held in later time. He can feel his eyelids get heavier every passing minute and he accidentally lets out an amusing question...

"May I hug you?"

He turns his head to the side to meet your eyes as you give him a wide eyed look, he swears that it almost resembled one of an owl or a deer getting caught in headlights, trying to find the words to reply back to him.

He chuckles, hiding his mouth with his gloved hands. "Thoma isn't here currently to aid me with some boba but perhaps this could be an alternative way to fill up my energy hm?" You giggled, placing the bookmark into the unread page of the book and set it off on to the side as Ayato pats on his thighs, signing you to take a seat on his lap as he snakes his arms around your body.

The Yashiro Commissioner had laid his head upon your shoulder and closed his eyes. "Hmm, this already feels better. Mind if we stay like this for a while?" The rumbling of his chest sending vibrations to your back makes your heart start to do gymnastics.

"Of course, I wouldn't mind one bit." You say as the two of you sit in peace with nothing but faint sounds of the outside.

❅ ᴅᴀɪɴꜱʟᴇɪꜰ

────────── 〔✿〕──────────

He is the first one to ask!

: ̗̀➛ Dainsleif has had little to no contact within his life excluding the few fists bumps or handshakes he’s had with Halfdan back when Khaenri'ah was still built and thriving before the great fall and calamity of his home. Since then he’s met you; a very persistent individual. You had started to travel along side him ever since you saw him winding down at the Angles Share.

: ̗̀➛ Along your journey with each other, you’ve learned a lot about his personality. He’s reserved, speaks only when spoken to or really needs to, was an independent individual and certainly wasn’t one to ask this astounding question…

‿‿‿‿

“May I hug you?”

He had asked you while the both of you were currently sitting on the patches of grass, camping out in the bushes as the branches of leaves above the two once provided shade from the scorching rays. To say the least, you were stunned at his sudden request and had to do a double take to make sure it is what he reallly said was true and why.

With your tardy reply Dainsleif had assumed that your reply was a silent ’no’ and had turned his head around to avoid the awkward tension between you two. As far as he knew this is where his expectations of this small “event” would end at but perhaps he had second guessed it when he felt a finger poke at his bicep. Slowly, he shifted his gaze to you only to soon feel a pair or arms wrap around his waist.

He makes no noise knowing what the gesture was, instead of you being to his side he gets you to sit in front of him, wrapping his muscular arms around your mid section. Burying his face into your neck as he allows himself to be off guard and take in this moment.

“Thank you.” was heard, his warm breath tickling at the crook of your neck. You hum softly in response, not wanting to ruin this short time of a man who has to carrry the fate of Khaenri'ah on his shoulders.

────────── 〔✿〕──────────

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #x reader #gender neutral reader #kaeya x reader #diluc x reader #zhongli x reader #baizhu x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #dainsleif x reader #fluff #genshin fluff #genshin x gn reader

[httpwintersoldier]

『 do it for me, doll. pt.3 || bucky barnes x reader 』

pairing: pornstar!Bucky x f!reader words: medium summary: when life gets hard after the Avenger's disbandment Bucky has to find a new occupation, and you find it too.

『 part 1 』 『 part 2 』

Getting on the plane to New York had your legs jittery and butterflies in your stomach. You couldn't stop smiling, you felt like a teenage girl giggling about your crush. Except it was just about the opposite.

Your coworkers found it odd, that you were so happy and couldn't wait for a work related trip, but they just guessed you enjoyed travelling. Little did they know, company awaited you on the other side.

You'd only meet Bucky on your third day in New York, since you were busy the other two days, but you might as well have met him outside of the airport, because your mind was clouded with thoughts of him and what you'd do when you first saw each other. Your body felt like it was burning in every place you wanted him to touch you.

You hurried to call a cab, and once you were in the hotel you didn't bother to unpack or get comfortable, you just grabbed your phone to text Bucky (whom had obviously given you his number since scheduling a meetup via livestream chat was not ideal or practical).

You: I'm in NYC 😎

Bucky: you sure we can't see each other like... now? I want you so bad

(Picture attached)

The picture was of him, lying on his bed, wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants, that were riding dangerously low on his waist.

You bit your lip, and for a second considered ditching your professional responsibilities for a good great fuck. But eventually decided against it.

You: Sorry Sergeant, duty calls, I'll see you the day after tomorrow

Bucky: you know I'll punish you for making me wait, right?

You: I do... and I can't wait.

You had no idea where your recent surge of confidence had come from (you suspected it was from all of Bucky's compliments and encouragement), but this new you was capable of saying just about anything that went through your mind.

To say you were unproductive and absolutely useless during your meetings was the understatement of the century. You were so distracted, excited and giddy by the thought of Bucky that you ended up contributing nothing to the work you were actually supposed to do. Your coworkers, however (bless them) just pinned it in nervousness for being in front of the higher-ups and covered for you.

When the day came you felt all sorts of emotions and skipped all of the coffees you'd usually have throughout the day as the added caffeine would only make it worse. A lot worse.

The workday itself was light, you only worked during the morning since your employers had meetings in the afternoon.

Come 1PM, you ate hurriedly and started to get ready, as if 6 hours wasn't enough time. You showered, did your hair and makeup (nice and heavy on the mascara so he'd have enough to mess up), lathered yourself in the nicest vanilla body lotion you had ever smelled, and got dressed.

You went all out for the meetup, even going as far as buying new lingerie for the occasion, but the man deserved it, he was cooking you dinner and serving all types of meat after all.

The set you purchased was baby pink. It was a hard cup lacy bra, that pushed up your tits in a beautiful way, with a small ribbon in between the cups. The panties were matching the top, and the back had a cut-out heart giving a perfect view of your ass. The set wouldn't be complete without the matching garter belt that connected to a sheer, white pair of tights.

You looked like a dream.

You put on a fancy outfit and gave yourself one last look in the mirror, touching up your makeup and hair, before texting Bucky.

You: I'm ready, will you make me wait till the time comes as a punishment?

Bucky: making you wait to come over would only be a punishment to me. Come one over.

Bucky shared his location.

You giggled and called an Uber to his location, sending a picture as soon as you got in the car to let him know you were on your way.

Bucky was just as giddy and nervous as you were, and he didn't know how long he'd be able to keep his hands off of you. Despite what might've been a popular belief, he didn't fuck a lot, he just happened to undress on camera.

About 15 minutes went by and Bucky was just adding the finishing touches to the dinner table when he heard your footsteps approach the door.

Ding dong.

You both took a deep breath, and the door opened.

"Y/N! Hi!"

Mesmerizing. That was the only way to describe Bucky Barnes. He smiled at you as if you weren't both thinking of the sinful things you were to do to each other.

"Nice to finally see you in person!" You said, greeting him with a hug.

He guided you inside his house - it was very minimalist, nothing but the absolutely necessary inside.

"I'm not big on decorations." Bucky said with a chuckle, as he saw you look around "But I do have beautiful chains hanging on my bedroom walls." He whispered in your ear, as an arm sneaked around your figure.

You shivered, looking over your shoulder at the man that was standing dangerously close to you. Your lips missed each other by mere milimeters, and the sexual tension was clearly palpable.

Bucky brushed his lips over yours for a split second, before completely pulling away and taking you to the kitchen. What a tease.

Bucky was a true gentleman, pulled directly from those 1940's stereotypes. He pulled out the chair for you and served your food and the champagne he had prepared.

"I hope you like it. If you don't there's a great chinese place nearby." He half-joked, since he was actually a little scared you wouldn't like the meal.

But his worries washed away when he saw your face as you took the first bite of the meal.

"Wow! This is amazing!" You complimented.

You saw his cheeks go a little red at the compliment and he smiled widely.

"Yeah? Thank you."

You'd think all of the compliments he got during streams would've made him more used to hearing them, but he still got very shy.

"Hopefully it won't be the best thing of the night..." You said suggestively, sending a wink his way.

Bucky's face instantly changed, into a look of lust and desire.

"Oh princess, this is nothing compared to what I have prepared." He winked at you, bringing the champagne glass to his lips.

The conversation flowed naturally during the dinner, which was a relief. Both of you had a secret worry in the back of your minds that you'd have no chemistry aside from the sexual attraction, but as time passed the worry faded completely.

When dinner was done, Bucky took a hold of your hand and guided you to his living room, bringing the champagne along with you. You sat down on the couch.

"You know Bucky, I'm surprised..."

Bucky rose an eyebrow at you.

"Hm? Surprised?"

"Yes," you paused, trailing your hand up his thigh "after the stunt you pulled when I came in the door I didn't think you'd last this long without doing... something."

Bucky's bionic arm gripped your wrist, just as your hand was getting to his crotch.

"Oh princess you have no idea how much I've been holding back."

The Soldier pulled you a little closer as he said that.

"Why hold back?" You whispered, as he was just so close.

"Because if I don't I won't be able to hold, back." Bucky responded, one of his hands making it's way to your cheek.

"Then don't hold back."

Those words were almost like a command for Bucky. He borught your face closer to his and kissed you, Your lips fit perfectly together, and all you both could think was "finally".

There was need and desperation in the kiss, and it was as if you were afraid to let go, as if you'd falter if you pulled away.

Bucky's vibranium arm wrapped around your figure, and brought you to his lap. His hips rolled up agains yours, as his tongue entered your mouth once more and his hands gripped your ass - you felt pleasantly overwhelmed, your mind had no idea what to focus on.

You could feel his boner against your core, and moaned at the feeling.

Bucky's hands settled on your ass and he stood up, taking you to what you assumed was his bedroom. He then laid you on the bed, standing up for a second to take of his shirt and pants.

As he worked on his clothes, you worked on yours. You removed your top and undid your zipper, so Bucky could pull down your pants and dispose of them. After he did so, he stood back, admiring your body in the pretty lingerie.

He smirked, chuckled and brushed back his semi-long hair, before climbing on top of you and pampering your chest and neck with sloppy kisses.

"You'll be the fucking death of me, doll." Bucky told you, snapping the waistband of your panties against the skin of your hip.

Your hand tangled on his hair as he marked your skin, while his hand sneaked inside your pretty underwear to find your clit.

"Oh Bucky- fuck."

The man kissed your neck, then your jaw and then your cheek.

"You sound even more beautiful in person." He said, before catching your lips in a quick kiss.

Bucky wanted to grab that pretty bra of yours and rip it out, but it was far too pretty, so his hand reached around your back and unclasped it, then peeling it off your body.

"Shit..." He groaned under his breath.

The man's lips attached to one of your nipples, as the other hand sneakily pushed your panties to the side, so he could enter you.

"This wet? Just for me? Wow I must be really good." Bucky joked, biting your breast and then kissing down your stomach.

"May... Maybe." You said, unable to sneak in a snarky reply when his tongue met your clit.

Bucky was holding your waist down with his free hand, as you couldn't help but writhe under his touch.

"Shit if you keep that up I'm not gonna last long." You said, between moans and whines.

"Then don't last long. Cum on my tongue doll, I wanna see how pretty you look up close."

Bucky curled his fingers inside of you and uncurled, picking up the pace he fingered you it. Soon after you were cumming with a loud cry of incoherent words that were meant to be "fuck Bucky, you're so good".

When your breath was steady, he came up to kiss you, and you could taste yourself on his tongue. Hot.

In a sudden act of bravery, you wrapped your legs around his waist and flipped you over, then kneeling in between his legs.

"What are we doing now doll?" He asked, with a look of amusement on his face.

You hooked your finger on the waistband of his tight boxers and pulled them down, letting his erection spring free. His cock did look bigger in person.

"Repaying the favour."

Before he could reply, you licked a strip along his shaft, before sucking his tip. You bobbed your head up and down his shaft, slowly taking more and more of him.

"Oh... fuck." He groaned and made a makeshift ponytail out of your hair, so he could watch the way his cock disappeared in your mouth.

Your hand added to the movement, and when you looked up, your teary eyes meeting his, he nearly came in your mouth.

"That's it." Bucky said, before tugging on your hair and pulling your mouth away from his cock.

Before you could register what was happening, Bucky had you on the bed with your ass up and face in the matress. He took your wrists and held them together behind your back.

Soon after, his tip found your entrance and he slipped in slowly, taking in the moment he finally got to fill you.

"Oh fuck, you feel so good doll." His compliment almost went unheard, as you were too focused on how good it felt to have him fuck you.

His hand spanked your ass and then grabbed it, loving the way it bounced when he fucked you.

As Bucky picked up the pace, your moans became more frequent and louder, making it insanely hard for him not to cum.

"Fuck it." He said, and paused, before flipping you around and entering you again "I wanna see your pretty little face when you cum on my cock, you're going to look so beautiful, all fucked out for me."

His hand wrapped around your throat as he said those words, and you swore your vision went blurry with pleasure.

"You f-feel so good Bucky- shit! Fuck!" You screamed, as he seemed to go deeper and deeper with each thrust.

It wasn't long before pleasure-filled tears streamed down your face, and your hands gripped the sheets. Your climax hit you harder than any before, and you cried out the man's name.

Bucky didn't even get time to ride out your orgasm, he simpy pulled out and came on you. All over your stomach and tits.

The man fell beside you on the bed, as you both tried to regain your breaths. After a couple seconds, you looked at each other, instantly feeling shy as if you hadn't fucked the shit out of each other.

You noticed the way his eyes drifted to your neck, and you softly ran your fingers across it.

"I'm going to have to wear a scarf tomorrow, aren't I?"

Bucky smiled and laughed.

"That would probably be best, yes." He joked, meeting your eyes.

Bucky wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close to his side, not caring if his cum stuck between your bodies, and lifted your chin up to kiss you.

"Join me. Let's film this, at least once. Please?"

"I'll think about it."

[TAGLIST]

@strndedonmars ; @geeky-politics-46 ; @high-functioning-lokipath ; @erinallene ; @yvessaintmuerte ; @kandis-mom ; @cjand10 ; @sadboiabby ; @sebastians-love ; @princezzjasmine ; @witchywonderlandchaos ; @buckysfirstbitch ; @itjustkindahappenedreally ; @strndedonmars ; @florencediet ; @mdrovert ; @barnescamboy ; @winters1917 ; @yvessaintmuerte ; @pattiemac1 ;

#bucky #marvel #bucky smut #bucky fanfic #bucky reader insert #bucky x reader #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes #winter soldier #bucky barnes smut #bucky reader insert smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky reaader insert smut #bucky reader smut #bucky x yn #bucky x you #winter soldier smut #bucky camboy #camboy bucky #camboy!bucky #pornstar!bucky #smut bucky #marvel smut #avengers smut

[boundinparchment]

Undertow

He stopped officiating weddings a long time ago. There was no time for such things as the Chief Justice of Fontaine. But your family insisted. As nobles are wont to do. Only the finest for their eldest daughter. Besides, you two were friends, after all. Neuvillette/Female Reader; in which the Chief Justice can no longer deny his heart on the day of your wedding. AO3 Story Link

A joyous day.

It should have been, at any rate.

At least for you.

As long as you were happy.

Or so Neuvillette told himself. Duty came first, after all. He had a whole nation to keep from setting itself aflame, be it from Focalors’ whims or the people’s fury. In serving everyone, he was, in fact, serving you.

And in turn, you, too, served the people. Few were so generous with their time and their skills, especially those in your social standing. Fewer still went on to study law, as you had; as heir, you needed to understand property laws and taxes and the words that bound your family to its estate and your place in parliament. Neuvillette would never let it be said that you did not know the meaning of long hours and hard work. Amid the vain and the greedy, you were pragmatic, and not without the wit to prove it.

That was what drew him to you. So many in your position used their wit as sharp daggers to stab others during conversation in a clever, charming way. You flipped the conversation back on perpetrators so often that he wondered why you never pursued certification exams.

“For one, it benefits my station far too much,” you said. “My ambitions are to be able to make life sustainable for all I’m meant to govern. Naive, perhaps. But I think those in my rank need to earn their keep, prove they’re worthy of their legacy. We owe it to the people of Fontaine.”

You were certainly not without a vision, even if you were Unblessed. It was better that way. You didn’t deserve the eyes of the island above on you anymore than they already were.

Neuvillete adjusted his cuffs as he glanced down at the book in his hands. A book you’d given him, annotated with your favorite passages and thoughts. He’d stayed up far too late trying to conceptualize anything other than his legal obligations for the ceremony.

The courtroom buzzed with anticipation. Focalors had rolled her eyes when she caught him getting ready but even she had made herself scarce for once after mumbling to just get it over with. Funny. And here he thought she might be present to laugh in his face and call him a fool.

A fool who took an hour to painstakingly braid his hair in a fashion that mimicked an Oceanid’s tail, as you had once shown him.

He stopped officiating weddings a long time ago. There was no time for such things as the Chief Justice of Fontaine.

But your family insisted. As nobles are wont to do.

Only the finest for their eldest daughter.

Besides, you two were friends, after all.

You would have settled for far less; or rather, you would have been happier with his presence in another capacity. He knew as much. His estate for the ceremony and party. A speech at dinner. A dance. Your smile had been so forced throughout the entire exchange about an officiant that Neuvillette was certain you might snap right then and there.

And yet you remained rooted. Dedicated.

If only the finest would do, why did they even consider the dolt standing before him to be eligible?

Hardly remarkable in accomplishments. The family coasted on interest earned through their holdings but were not without the occasional cousin who ended up with a debt record as long as one’s forearm. Neuvillette couldn’t even justify an excuse for a pedigree; bloodlines couldn’t, shouldn’t, be about trying to maintain whatever purity they claimed to hold.

No one could make that judgment.

Celestia might try, at any rate.

And the Chief Justice could hardly see your future husband comforting you should such a thing happen, let alone caring for the people. Neuvillette could only stare when the nobleman’s eyes caught his; your fiance looked away first and Neuvillette smiled briefly to himself. No. There would be no comfort in this relationship, no challenge, no ambition.

This man would snuff your flames with his own self-importance.

Neuvillette should have offered his hand instead when you’d told him. You seemed so resolute, so determined, to carry out your duty. And he was so patient that he might as well be a coward. Time would wait for him, not you. Instead, he’d pulled every string he could to find every shred of information for you, for your parents, approved the match with as much grace as a ruling.

Mulled over every file with a glass of brandy, trying to convince himself things would be fine.

Wouldn’t they?

Nearby, a musician began the song you had chosen to walk in with and the gallery rose in unison, like the sea, to watch.

The only thing you’d had control over was the dress, you’d admitted one night after dinner. Repurposed, you’d mentioned; all lace and fashionable lines, practical but elegant in its shape. He couldn’t pull his eyes away and he tried to remember to breathe as you made your way down the aisle. In all his years, he had seen many things, including the stunning shimmers of the previous Hydro Archon, but all of them paled to you.

Likewise, it seemed you couldn’t look anywhere else but straight ahead, Neuvillette realized: most looked towards their future spouse but your gaze was fixed on Neuvillette himself. His grip on the book tightened and he was thankful for the swell of the music to hide the squeak of leather.

You weren’t making the stabbing knife in his chest any easier.

The words came quicker than he liked as he began the usual spiel. Welcoming guests, reciting the names of the parties involved, and starting off with a brief speech on the strength of a union. He could read the passage from the book backwards if you asked him.

As a judge, he was meant to be the impartial interpreter of the law. There was no place for bias, for emotion.

His eyes would give him away to any discerning onlookers. Neuvillette was no stranger to rumors and gossip columns and no doubt someone could already see the questions he couldn’t keep from surfacing. It would be obvious, he realized. He kept looking at you and not the crowd, not the man with eager eyes who held your hand the same way one held a horse bridle: too tight.

Neuvillette cleared his throat and pushed away the anguish. It had no place here.

As the Chief Justice asked you to repeat after him, to recite the vows all Fontaine citizens gave on their wedding day, something inside him cracked. Couldn’t you see this would lead to nothing but misery? Weren’t you worthy of more? If you must marry for duty, then at least commit yourself to someone equally committed…

Your lips, painted to perfection (unnecessarily so, for you were already beautiful without such coloring), opened but silence followed. Neuvillette swallowed. Your eyes left his long enough to stare at the man holding your hand before you thrust your bouquet at him, gathered your skirt, and dashed back up the aisle.

Behind you, the courtroom ignited with all of the shock and drama as a high profile murder case as you threw the doors open and dashed into the lobby and eventually out of sight.

The only trace you’d been there at all was your veil as it floated to the floor silently, forgotten.

A joyous day.

It should have been, at any rate.

And yet you shouldn’t shake the knot in your stomach and the claw clenching around your heart. Sleep eluded you for the better part of the night and your maids tutted, pressing cold spoons to your eyes before you were allowed to eat. Food tasted no better than dirt over the last few months and all anyone saw was how careful you were watching your figure.

How you wished things were different. The ring on your finger felt heavy, clunky; a ball and chain around your ankle would have been easier to manage.

It hadn’t been so burdensome at first, of course. Things took time. Perhaps, eventually, you might enjoy your betrothed’s company for longer than a few hours. The potential was there.

But was it enough?

Your maids fixed your makeup, did your hair, swatted your hand away when you reached for just one sip of water.

They all gushed about your fiance, how handsome and charming he was, how well conversation seemed to flow. Every single one of them forgot that the conversations were nothing more than surface level discussions that made you want to gouge your eyes out with a spoon.

You’d almost begged Neuvillette to forge something, anything, that would make this arrangement null and void. Every meeting since the engagement had been heavily supervised under the guise of protecting the Chief Justice’s reputation and your honor, whatever that implied.

Expectation had been there for years, lingered like a ghost. Not from you but from everyone else who cast their eyes on your station. One rarely, if ever, captured the Chief Justice’s attention, after all. Your family had hoped, as others had, but you were content to simply converse over dinner, at parties, exchange books and philosophies and see the man’s smile reach his silvery eyes. He spoke of opera and art in a way so few of your contemporaries could. You tried to control the flutter of your heart when he locked eyes with you across the courthouse foyer after parliament adjourned and you swore you saw his eyes glow.

He was engaging, enthralling, and it was easy to see why the nation considered him such a celebrity.

But your friendship was more than the attention, than the allure of the Chief Justice and all that he encompassed. Some might not call his rulings fair but he saw all of the trappings that Fontaine itself was guilty of pressing onto all of its inhabitants. When you came up with ideas for proposals, it was him you went to for proper language and legal references, always attempting to stay within his schedule, of course. More often than not, he would continue to prompt you to think the proposal through, consider scale and the impact and the precedent.

Never once did he give you an opinion, naturally. Just a different perspective.

“You can be dazed tomorrow,” your mother said as she snapped her fingers in your face. “Your flowers just arrived and the photographer is insisting on family shots here, at the house.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes as you were dressed by deft hands. It had been something of a game with your maid to pass time when you felt like trying your dress on; little had you known how the practice would backfire.

Something tugged at your gut and you fought the urge to vomit at the thought of the hands (the wrong hands) that would undo the buttons.

No, you made your choice, you reminded yourself. The guilt would fade. The love would fade.

You were closer to thirty than you cared to admit. What your family took for a phase they realized would be a dangerous precedent for your siblings.

Everything you did was for the betterment of the people, you would argue.

What good was the betterment of the people when you were neglecting your duty to your family, was often the retort thrown back with as much acid as your grandmother’s strong tea.

Family.

Duty.

Honor.

All of it was bullshit if the common people were unhappy and left to fend off wolves from above and below.

You’d never subscribed to these notions and they were content to let it be until it was inconvenient. Rather than let you advise on financial planning, to grow an endowment that could take care of the yearly costs of the estate, you were to be cattle in exchange for financial and political support.

Or you would be cast aside, disowned and dishonored, your position taken from you as if it were a rug underfoot.

And so, you accepted all of it with a smile.

You endured.

Just as you endured the flash of the kamera, the fussing over your flowers and your veil during the carriage ride to the courthouse.

The press were eager, as they always were, for gossip and fashion and for a glimpse of the Chief Justice presiding over the ceremony. They weren’t here for you, not truly. Why, of all things, had your parents insisted he be the officiant?

Wasn’t it enough that you were giving up parts of your life, parts of your soul, for a person who would never appreciate them?

Your feet already ached from your heels. A wave of dizziness slapped you across the face as you entered the lobby and you pushed through it. Music began, the doors opened, and your body moved of its own accord, just as you had practiced the night before.

Neuvillette had declined the rehearsal dinner. The one time you were glad not to see him. If you had, you wouldn’t be here now, you were certain.

You gave a cursory glance to your fiance but your attention whipped back to Neuvillette almost instantly. He’d done his best but you could see the faded dark circles under his silver eyes. How late had he stayed up, you wondered. And how long had that braid taken him?

He’d let you style it once, and only once, in the privacy of his library. Waterfalls of silken fabric couldn’t compare to the beautiful blue and white locks between your fingers. He’d been attentive when you showed him the technique, pausing his case review to do so, but…

An ache from your feet ran up to your heart and sat, heavy with longing; it hurt to breathe.

The music swelled to a close and your father kissed your cheek before he passed you along to your fiance. He smiled and you tried not to be disgusted at the sweaty hand that held yours. You held your flowers in your other hand tighter, glad that the florist had missed a thorn in trimming your flowers.

Before you could blink, Neuvillette was already speaking.

And although he was addressing everyone as he read the passage you read aloud to him on a particularly gloomy evening, his gaze never left yours. The man witnessed and knew of the cruelest things the nation allowed, worked under Honorable Focalors Herself, and yet the expression on his face (such as it was, for he was known for his unreadable countenance) was as if…

It was gone in all but a moment as he cleared his throat and prompted you to recite your vows.

It was the subtle raise of Neuvillette’s eyebrows, the way his eyes widened just enough for emphasis that did you in.

Doubt. Anguish.

Was this what you wanted?

You turned your head, every intention to get the words across your tongue and past your lips in mind, when your voice simply wouldn’t comply. All you could see was a life shackled, compromise after compromise and always made against your favor. Concessions that eventually wore down to wondering why you ever bothered.

Did you want to throttle yourself, your spirit, your drive, for potential that wasn’t even there? When the man you loved would be forever kept out of reach?

If not this, then what did you want?

The answer was literally staring you in the face.

You shoved your flowers into your betrothed’s hands and pulled away, not caring if your dress carried sweat stains as you gathered the skirts and ran as fast as your legs could carry you out the door. Commotion behind you roared to life as you haphazardly made your way through the lobby, down to the entrance, and then dashed to the side garden to avoid the headline-hungry press.

There were few options to hide, all of them easy enough to locate. Your family would drag you back if they found you. Assuming they weren’t bickering and that the wedding was even still on from your fiance’s point of view.

A single drop of rain plopped on your head, sudden and cold. Followed by another. And then there was no sun left in the sky as rain came down in sheets, heavy and frigid. Thunder rumbled through your entire being. You couldn’t stay here. Over the roar of the rain, you could hear your name. You wouldn’t heed.

You were tired of coming when called, of giving your loyalty and love to those who sought to keep you from your happiness. No better than a hunting dog.

Soaked, your hair and dress now destined for the Abyss, you slid off your heels and made your way towards the one place you might be able to wait out the rain in peace.

Over the chatter of the crowd, the rumble of thunder was unmistakable.

Of course it would rain. It wasn’t like he’d done a terrific job of hiding his own bias.

The speed at which you’d run back up the aisle was a feat, given the shoes you wore. No doubt those wouldn’t do you any good in this weather. You were probably cold, overwhelmed…

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and Neuvillette’s hand shot out. He grabbed the nobleman’s arm before he could move, already poised to go after you.

“Leave her be. These things happen. It is best for a neutral party to resolve these matters. Wedding planners, family, or friends are usually equipped for these situations,” the Chief Justice said matter of factly.

Fight back, you absolute–

Your betrothed’s arm relaxed in Neuvillette’s grip and it took everything in the Chief Justice not to summon his power and drown him there and then. If there was one person deserving of being reduced to their primal element…

Neuvillette’s voice cut above the crowd as he called for order, requesting that guests remain where they were and that, no doubt, everything would resume shortly. Your parents were already doing a poor attempt at damage control with your supposed-in-laws. Your siblings were casting looks at the door, half-debating if they should go after you; they weren’t like you, not as headstrong, not as independent, and one look from your matriarchal grandmother sent them further into their seats.

He intervened, diffusing arguments with ease, all the while wondering if you were okay. Your parents wanted to use city resources, send out police. For once, your fiance chimed in that such a thing might scare you and you needed help, not to be dragged back kicking and screaming.

“You should go, sir,” the young nobleman said quietly as the bickering picked up again. “You said it yourself: family or friends, and her family doesn’t seem keen to fight for her.”

The man’s smile was shaky but the Chief Justice appreciated the sentiment. At least he had a brain in there somewhere.

“Be sure to keep them from saying too much to the press. Should any ask, Her Honor is also behaving…in her usual fashion.”

Neuvillette was certain his absence wouldn’t go unnoticed and the fact that the press were still clamoring at the front stairs despite the downpour wouldn’t help matters. He paid them no mind as rain pelted him, drenching his robes and suit jacket underneath. The rain did nothing to affect his vision nor his drive to find you; he was unbothered by the chill but you…you always did love curling up right next to a fire and being bundled in winter.

There was one place you might go, he pondered, that few knew about and fewer had access to. Short of you running through the city in your dress (which would not be like you), you had little options to avoid the press but to stay near the courthouse.

He found you as he expected to, under a pavilion tucked away into a quiet garden on the property, wringing out your skirts and pacing, feet bare against the wet stone. You were never still when your mind was lightyears ahead of you, be it from following trains of thought or when you were attempting to force a filibuster. Your thoughts were likely half-way to Inazuma by now and just as tumultuous as the storms he heard so much about.

His breath caught when you jumped as you caught sight of him, eyes wide and anguish carved into your face. Neuvillette stepped under the cover of the pavilion, his robes and braid dripping unceremoniously and you immediately reached to wring his hair out gently, without so much as a second thought.

The Chief Justice took off his gloves as he let you finish before he took your hands in his. He could feel the bump on your finger where you held a pen, the tender spot where your flowers pricked you.

“I can’t do it, Neu,” you choked out, shaking your head. “I can’t do it.”

“You don’t have to if it’s going to make you unhappy, if you cannot see a future with the person standing at the altar.”

He worked in rulings, evidence, facts; managing Focalors emotional outbursts was a terrible part of his job description but they never teetered into this territory. He was used to fleeting whims and de-escalation.

This? This was a decision that would change the course of your life. Not immediately, of course. But the future was a terrifying, uncertain thing, and you had expectations to contend with.

Expectations that did not involve him.

The pall of fear lifted from your face slowly, the same way morning dew disappeared from the grass. Something else blossomed in its place, like a sweet flower pushing through the cracks in the cobblestone streets, resilient and resolute.

“The thing is, I can. Just not with the man I was about to marry.”

Shooting him would have been less painful. Such an admission should have, as with all things today, been enough to make a heart soar, even manage to turn bitter water into sweet ambrosia. Your lips parted again before he could speak.

“And I understand you feel differently; you’ve never given me reason to believe otherwise and I am not asking for more than what you have to give. I would never do that to you. If I marry the man in there,” you nodded your head in the direction of the courthouse, “it will always be a lie. Maybe I’ll grow to tolerate him but I will never love him. Not like I love you. As I do now, I will spend the rest of my life looking into his eyes, wishing he was you.”

Neuvillette’s hands dropped yours to cup your face of their own accord. Before he could process anything else, he’d tilted your head up and pressed his lips to yours as if he was a man deprived of air. You were warm, despite the weather, and he could make out the familiar scent of your perfume amid the fresh flowers in your hair. He felt you relax, curve yourself into him, hands finding purchase on the soaked lapels of his robes.

He broke away, his face hot as he admired your swollen lips. Mixed in with your slight daze was that inquisitive expression he would never tire of, one you often gave to silently encourage him to continue speaking.

“Then no more wishing, mon amour,” he whispered, brushing away the stray tears pooling at the corners of your eyes. “Marry me.”

“Don’t just—”

“I should not have let it get as far as it has. What good is duty if your heart is elsewhere?”

“And where will we go, my Chief Justice? The people of Fontaine and our Archon might enjoy this scandal a little too much…it would be quite a spectacle.”

“Qiaoying Village is nice this time of year. I have an acquaintance in Liyue I can persuade to be a witness. Beyond that…we’ll let the current decide.”

His words shook something in you as you reached up and tugged at his cravat to pull him into another kiss. Longer than the last, smooth and steady like a morning tide, passion dancing like an undertow.

#neuvillette #neuvillette/female reader #neuvillette/reader #chief justice neuvillette #genshin impact neuvillette #arranged marriage #angst with a happy ending #fluff #romance #love confessions

[w1ldthoughts]

Minor Ear-Mergency

Anon Requested

Masterlist

“Are you sure you don’t want to change out of your pjs? You can wear your gameday outfit, I know it’s your favorite.”

The toddler in front of you shakes her head, “no thank you. I want to wear this for the game.”

You shrug, grabbing the black ‘Bolt Up’ lightning rod shirt and blue pants with the #10 iron-on patches on the side. Remi wore these clothes every Sunday…without fail. So today’s answer was a rare occasion to put it lightly, but you didn’t want to push her first thing in the morning so you let her do whatever felt right. You even opted to stay in your pajamas as well, in solidarity of course.

The next time you gave her a funny look was when she barely ate her cheesy eggs and complained of having a headache an hour later. By the time the two of you sat on the couch for kickoff at 1:25 pm California time, she was half asleep. One of her arms was wrapped around you, as best as she could with your belly in the way, while the other one was securely holding on to her stuffed animal.

Even though she barely knew what was going on, she loved watching her dad on tv so you knew something was off. Your continuous suspicions were confirmed with one simple act of placing your hand on her forehead and checking her temperature.

“My ear is hurting me,” her pitiful cries and groans of pain have you on the phone with the pediatrician at the start of the fourth quarter. She gave you little home remedies to try and scheduled Remi for an 11 o’clock appointment the next morning. You could practically hear Justin in your ear lightly scolding you for not having an extra bottle of children’s Motrin in the house, but the universe was secretly on your side because the one in your hand was just enough for a few full servings. Long after the medicine should have kicked in your daughter still had fresh tears rolling down her cheeks, sniffling like she was trying to bite down the sadness.

“Oh sweets, is your ear still bothering you?”

She gently shakes her head no, scared to make any sudden movements in case that would make the pain return. “I need daddy but he’s not here,” she whimpers, leaning on your arm and practically using your sleeve as a tissue.

“I know baby. But he’ll be back tonight and you’ll see him as soon as you wake up,” you sigh, knowing that isn’t what she wants to hear. Feeling like it was your duty as a mom to come up with a solution, you sat there for a minute, running your fingers through her hair until it hit you. “I have an idea,” she stares back at you, her eyes a little wide with anticipation, “I’ll be right back. You stay here.”

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Remi allowed you to be out of her sight long enough to throw one of Justin’s shirts in the dryer for her to rest her head on, smiling to yourself when she let you know that she still missed her daddy, but this was good enough until she got to see him in the morning. Adding another baby to the chaos was a daunting idea in moments like this where although you loved your husband and this life that the two of you had built, you were alone…a lot. You had to think on your feet alone, a lot. And of course he did everything in his power to be an active parent and husband when he was home but that didn’t change the fact that right now you had a sick child to take care of and he was on the other side of the country getting chased by grown men in tights. That thought had you chuckling to yourself, thinking about two extremes, drowning Remi’s tears and snot or praying that the offensive line would keep him upright for the better part of three hours.

Justin came home later that evening, leaving his shoes by the door and tiptoeing around the house. When you texted him before the flight home that Remi wasn’t feeling well there was a pit in his stomach at the fact that he wasn’t there. He knew you could handle it but that didn’t take away his feeling of being a terrible partner. There is always an upside and a downside to things, especially being a working parent who’s job is more demanding than the average person and you never made him feel bad about it or tried to use it against him. But his mind sometimes allowed him to think of the worst case scenario. He never wanted to miss any moment, not with you and definitely not with Remi and even the little things like an earache made him want to drop everything and fly home. As soon as he passed by the living room to head upstairs, he caught a glimpse of a view that made all the doubt and negative thoughts leave his mind.

There you two were, sprawled out on the couch covered in blankets. NFL network was still on in the background as Remi was curled up into a ball with her mouth slightly open, as close to your body as humanly possible. And even in deep sleep, you held onto her. Justin smiled to himself, taking a mental image as a reminder of how worth it this all is, no matter the sacrifice. He’d rather compromise with you, create this life with you and have a life outside of football than the alternative because this? The view in front of him? That was everything.

And he needed to put a stop to it immediately.

He slowly walks over to the couch, scooping Remi up in his arms and she doesn’t even bother to open her eyes, securing her arms around his neck and sleeping peacefully like nothing happened. As soon as her weight is gone from your orbit you begin to stir, rubbing your eyes in an attempt to wake yourself up.

“Hey there sleepyhead,” he whispers, “let’s go upstairs and get some sleep. The couch isn’t good for your back.”

You yawn, sitting up and already feeling the tightness in your muscles thanks to the increased weight in your front. Justin holds a hand out for you to grab so you can stand up and the three of you head up to your bedroom for some much needed rest.

A mild ear infection. That’s what the pediatrician told you this morning and that she should be fine completely recovered within the week, which was honestly the best case scenario. You texted Justin the news and he let you know that his Monday lift and meetings were done and he’d be home for the rest of the day.

“Can I have lava for lunch please?” Remi asks innocently, holding Justin’s hand. She hadn’t let him out of her sight since she walked in the door and found him standing in the kitchen. He couldn’t even go to the bathroom without her standing on the other side of the door.

“Lava?” He mouths at you.

“Tomato soup,” you laugh. “While you feed her I’m gonna head to the store real fast and grab more medicine and a couple other things we might need.” Moments like this didn’t come often, so you had to take advantage of this toddler-free opportunity and get some stuff done before Justin had to go to practice later this week. You headed out quietly, greatly enjoying the sight of Thing One and Thing Two having an intense conversation.

“Oh daddy. Can I have some Gatorade too please?”

Justin narrows his eyes, ready to bargain with the toddler. “How about this, you finish your lava and I’ll give you a little bit of Gatorade. Deal?”

“Otay, I try.”

Less than halfway into her bowl of soup, Remi said she was done. “Are you sure you don’t want to finish it? No lunch means no Gatorade.” He tried coaxing her into taking a few more bites but she just wasn’t having it.

Remi sighs, her cheeks getting a rosy tint that he didn’t like. “Too tired to eat, can I hold you?”

“Of course you can hold me, come here.” He presses his lips to the top of her head, her warm clammy skin letting him know that it’s time for more medicine. Since he couldn’t let her go without some sort of meltdown, he just used one hand to pour the Motrin into a tiny cup and had her drink it.

“That was yucky,” she whines, her voice having a sleepy croak to it. “Can you take a nap with me, pretty please?”

He laughs lightly, peering down at her as he walks to her room. “When you ask so nicely with a sweet face like that, how can I say no?”

With his long legs hanging off the bed, he placed the blanket over her as she nestled herself in the crook of his body. “Daddy?”

Her eyes were closed so he wasn’t sure if she was still awake until she spoke again. “Thank you for staying with me. Yesterday, I missed you but now you’re here and I’m so happy. I miss you when you leave.”

“Do you get sad when I’m gone?” He wasn’t sure he was ready to hear her answer, but he knew he needed the truth. Even though the simple thought of making her sad had him biting back tears.

Remi opens her eyes, her matching green orbs staring into his before she smiles and shakes her head. “Yes. For two minutes I cry but you always come back!” She holds out three fingers to show him and he chuckles, helping her out one finger down. “And you get touchdowns on tv and me and mama high five. I like touchdowns and I like the Chargers. So I not sad daddy, I get happy when you win. Sometimes you lose…but I still love you.”

As hard as he tries, he can’t contain the laughter at his daughter’s football analysis. But she was right, she loved him win or lose and he had to remember that when the guilt set in. “I love you more mini,” he gives her a squeeze, “and I’m always going to come back home, every touchdown is for you and for mama.”

“And baby brother?”

“Of course! Baby brother too.”

She seems satisfied with that answer, closing her eyes again and cozying further into his chest, her steady breaths letting him know she was quickly dozing off.

With her body resting against his chest, he lets out a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding since he got home almost 24 hours earlier. Even something as minor as a tiny ear infection worried him. “I’m right here honey, daddy’s not going anywhere.” He was mostly saying that for himself but it still felt good to admit there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

The next day when he came home from the facility, he was happy to find Remi getting back to her usual self. “What are you two doing?”

“Making nana bread with…matella.”

“It’s Nutella sweets,” you correct her with a soft laugh.

Remi giggles, “Nu-tella, the best chocolate.”

“That sounds amazing bub,” Justin smiles, giving each of you a kiss on the cheek. Remi immediately drops what she’s doing to give him a hug. “I’m so glad you’re feeling better.”

She gives him a kiss on the cheek in return, “nana bread and daddy at home make me feel lots better.” Remi practically hops out of the man’s arms to go grab her cup of water from the living room.

“She said banana bread before me,” Justin murmurs. “Is that saying something?”

Placing the bread pan in the oven, you laugh softly. “Unfortunately, I think it says everything. I’m so sorry you had to find out this way.”

“Eh it’s fine. You didn’t even make her top two.”

#Justin Herbert #Justin Herbert x reader #justin herbert imagine #Justin Herbert x you #nfl imagine #justin herbert fanfic

[reaveries]

▬  risk

"I will save your life. I'll try for you."

pairings: re2 officer!leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: while trying to escape the police station in the midst of the infamous raccoon city disaster, rookie police officer leon s. kennedy finds a young woman in need of his help.

content warning: descriptions of violence and gore

word count: 4.4k (estimated 21 minutes reading time)

a/n: this .... has been in my drafts ......... since april. you're finally free........

masterlist archive of our own

Revised for clarity 12/30/2023.

Leon’s gun had always been a mere extension of his arm, a tool to be honed and wielded with precision. The academy, with its spiral target walls and foam-filled mannequins, had served as his training ground, preparing him for the hopefully unnecessary evil of one day having to take a life. This unspoken burden came with the territory—an occupational hazard in the line of duty. But no amount of half-hearted demonstrations and target practices could’ve equipped him for a night like this.

Until tonight, he’d never seen a body fall lifeless due to his own hand. But if he had, he wouldn’t have expected it to stumble from its spot of decay, staggering towards him with a newfound vigor that defied everything he thought he knew about morality and his fragile existence.

Tonight has been a night of unholy firsts, and the air about him suggests it has only just begun.

The pungent metallic scent of arterial spray assaults his senses as he steps out of the shower room. His heart sinks in his chest as he takes in the sight of carnage in the westmost corridor of the police station. Uniformed men and women lie in crumpled heaps against the walls. Their bodies are mangled and torn, some so abhorrently disfigured that they’re scarcely recognizable as humans. The presence of the dead was something he was uncomfortably growing comfortable with, and yet to imagine the animosity it must’ve required to create this scene… 

Well, it unsettled him, to say the least. He could’ve known them if things had gone differently.

He steps over their quiet corpses with his pistol in one hand and a flashlight raised in the other. He nudges one with the toe of his boot, aiming for their skull if they so much as twitch. But their bodies remain convincingly still, slain beyond any chance of revitalization. His grip tightens on his gun as he presses forward down the narrow corridor. If this is the result of those infected creatures he’s become acquainted with, they could be lurking ahead, waiting for him. 

The rain outside stings as it pelts his cheek, dampening his uniform that’s already slick with sweat. He ignores it.

Ahead should be the S.T.A.R.S. office if the map he found is correct. Hopefully, he can find relevant information about Claire’s brother in there, something to help her find him if he should ever see her again. With a deep breath, he reaches out to turn the knob when a groan suddenly creeps from down the hall. But there’s something different about it. 

It sounds alive, pained, and distinctly human.

“Is someone there?” He calls out, his voice echoing down the long hallway. The sound reverberates off the walls and fills the silence, and for a moment, there is nothing but his own breathing. 

Then a low growl echoes back at him.

With an annoyed huff, he raises his gun and aims for the corner he anticipates the creature to hobble from behind. But before he can catch a glimpse of it, something moves in the darkness. It's too fast for him to comprehend, a blurring figure scurrying towards him like a feral animal. He watches in horror as it crawls along the ceiling, its movements disturbingly fluid.

As it draws closer, the moonlight catches on to the glistening texture of its skin. A grotesque tentacle-like tongue unfurls from its mouth, swinging through the air like a scythe.

“What… what the fuck?”

He fires two rounds into the fleshy matter of the creature’s head, but it makes no difference. Doesn’t even flinch. The rookie officer prepares to fire another round when the monster flings itself off the ceiling and lunges its body through the air directly toward him.

In a split-second decision, Leon throws himself into the office, his body slamming against the door before he scrambles to his feet and secures it behind him. Outside, the creature is relentless. Its wet, clobbering movements spasm through the walls. With his back pressed against the door, he braces himself as the monster rams into it with a sickening force that rattles the hinges. 

It takes all his strength to keep it from buckling under the creature’s assault. The force of each blow makes his arms tremble, and he can feel his grip slipping. A bead of sweat trickles down his temple, and his heart thunders in his chest as he fights to hold the door in place. 

But then, just as suddenly as it began, the onslaught ceased. Leon takes a deep breath, his heart still pounding, and listens for any sign of movement outside.

He waits a second, then slowly pulls himself away from the door.

With his chest heaving, a word comes to mind.

Licker. 

He remembers the warning about these beasts scrawled on a note left by a likely deceased officer. His naive self didn’t expect to encounter one so soon.

He takes a moment to survey the room, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. The abandoned desks and personal items left behind tell him that S.T.A.R.S. personnel were just as underprepared for a viral outbreak as the rest of the city. The first thing that catches his eye is a trauma kit on the wall. He crosses the room and flips it open, finding it fully stocked. Dressings, hemostatic agents, antiseptic. A sense of relief washes over him. He reaches into his pocket to make room for the essentials, but to his dismay, finds them full of various necessities. There’s no space to carry anything in this damn uniform. With a sigh, the lid is closed and left as it was found.

“Hey!” 

He nearly jumps out of his skin at the sudden noise. 

“Please tell me you didn’t die,” a disembodied voice says. The end of their sentence tapers off with a shallow breath. With a sharp turn of his head, he tries to place the direction it's coming from. There’s no familiarity in their voice, which is no surprise considering he’d only become acquainted with a few officers during his orientation.

“Where are you?” He calls out, raising his flashlight in search of an answer, hoping for a door or some kind of opening.

“Linen closet. Down the hall.”

Their muffled words become clear as he approaches a far corner of the office, likely sharing a wall with the room they’re in. “Did it get you?” they ask, quieter this time.

Leon takes a deep breath to steady himself before responding. “Almost, but I’m alright,” he assures them. With a glance back to the door, he continues, “Listen, I know how to get past that thing now. Just… stay put. I’ll come to you.”

“Please be careful,” the stranger pleads. Something in their voice rings as desperation, lending to the pit forming in his stomach. It’s more than likely that whoever this is is a victim of the outbreak, clinging to their last shred of humanity before the virus consumes them. The thought of putting down another person, to see the life fade from their eyes—he’d like to avoid it if possible.

With the barrel of his pistol, he cracks open the door and peers into the corridor. It’s just as he left it, but there’s no sign of the monster anywhere. He holds back a sigh of relief as he opens the door further and steps into the hall. The ceiling, where his eyes are permanently trained, is empty. The revolting shape of the licker is nowhere to be found. 

He pushes forward, boots ghosting across the floorboards and pistol drawn. His breathing is slow, his muscles tensed. He’s convinced the creature can hear the blood rushing through his veins. When he reaches the end of the corridor, he halts and peeks behind the turn of the hall where the linen closet should sit. 

His heart drops.

It’s there.

Of course it’s there. Why should anything be easy for him?

Perched in the corner, its sinewy body is raised on its haunches and pressed wetly against the wall. Rows of jagged teeth have overgrown the confines of its decaying jaw, and long bone-like talons sprout from fleshy hands. 

He can't afford to freeze up. One misstep is all it takes, and he’ll be gutted like the rest of them. He reaches for a hook on the holster hanging at his hips, fingers trembling as he fumbles for the cold, smooth canister he's grown familiar with. This might be his only chance.

With one finger, he hooks the pin and yanks it. The sound of it clattering against the tile echoes throughout the hallway just as a cloud of white explodes, engulfing the creature as it lunges toward him. It falls to the floor in an instant, writhing in agony as the grenade pierces the air with a sharp ringing noise.

No time to think. Leon sprints to the door, feeling the hot stench of decay brush past him as he avoids the stunned beast. The door flies open against his weight, and he forces it shut behind him.

He leans against the door, panting heavily as he tries to steady himself.

As he catches his breath, a voice whispers in the darkness.

“You made it.”

His eyes dart to the corner, where a young woman sits leaning against a washing machine. Her uniform is in bad shape, torn at her midsection and stained to the hem. It looks like blood is seeping through, smearing her fingers red as she tries to stanch the bleeding. The sight of the mess has him quickly closing the space between them.

She looks him up and down as he kneels beside her.

“You’re an officer?” She asks with knitted brows. “I’ve never seen you before.”

“Leon Kennedy. I just started today,” he answers quickly, the adrenaline causing a noticeable waver in his voice.

She laughs but winces and screws her eyes shut. “And I thought my first day sucked,” she says through her teeth.

“Did that thing do this to you?” He asks, his tone gentle yet urgent, getting straight to the nagging thought in his mind.

She shakes her head, looking down at the wound with a suppressed grimace. “I thought the hallway was clear. And then, out of nowhere, it just…” Her mind seems to wander at the thought. “It came through the window. There was glass flying everywhere. It scratched me pretty good.”

Leon tilts his head to the side, trying to get a good look at the wound. Her uniform makes it difficult to see the full extent of the injury. However, the amount of blood is enough to give him an idea of the severity.

“‘Scratched’ is an understatement,” he says, looking back at her.

A dazed sort of smile finds its way to her face. “I like to be optimistic.”

Despite the gravity of the situation, or maybe precisely because of it, his smile mirrors hers. She’s not infected. Thank God.

“So do I,” he says. “Let’s get you cleaned up, alright? Then we can think about getting out of here.”

She nods and attempts to sit up straighter.

“Can you, um,” he starts to say, gesturing to the hem of her uniform.

“Yeah, I can take it off. I’m not shy.”

A blush creeps up his neck as she nimbly moves to undo the buttons of her uniform. Leon averts his gaze, suddenly transfixed by the desolate corner of the linen room. His fingers pluck idly at the skin around his nails. But from the corner of his eye, he catches her struggle to shrug off the top. It gets caught on her shoulders and refuses to slide down.

“Here, let me,” he offers reluctantly.

The room falls silent, the only sound being the soft rustle of fabric as he coaxes the shirt down her arms. She draws a sharp breath as it grazes over tender bruises and scrapes, and a strange sense of intimacy seeps in, making him feel guilty for having to undress her. As the shirt falls to the ground, revealing her white undershirt, his eyes are drawn to the dark magenta stain blossoming across the fabric. 

There, at the center of it all, is a shard of glass, roughly the size of the palm of his hand. Its edges are sharp and erratic, protruding from her lower stomach. 

It’s critical, he realizes.

“Sorry if it’s not the prettiest thing to look at,” she says, eyes fixated on the ceiling.

He shakes his head. “It’s not that bad,” he lies, hoping it sounds convincing. 

Apparently, it doesn’t, because she looks down for the first time and sees it.

“Jesus Christ!” She exclaims breathlessly. Her hands fly to hover above the shard, afraid to touch it. “You have to take it out,” she says with certainty, clearly unable to bring herself to do it.

His medical training at the academy left much to be desired, but even he was aware of the cardinal rule when it came to injuries such as these. Under the best of circumstances, the object should never be removed, lest the victim hemorrhage and bleed to death. However, he’d wager that they were far from the best of circumstances, and the alternative wasn’t enticing. Leon takes a deep breath, then places one hand on her shoulder and the other on the shard of glass. Their eyes lock, a silent agreement passing between them.

“Stay still,” he instructs, his voice wavering slightly. He hesitates for a moment before pulling it out in one swift motion. He can feel her muscles tense beneath his hand as she reacts to the jagged edges scraping against her insides. A torrent of hushed expletives tumbled from her lips, the pain etched deeply in her features.

“There,” he says softly, immediately deciding not to let her see the piece of glass once he realizes its morbid grandeur.

He can see the relief wash over her face, but it's short-lived as her condition quickly deteriorates. The sudden change startles him. Her eyes have started to glaze over, and her head falls limply to the side. Her words are barely audible, lost in labored breaths. 

“Hey,” he says urgently, reaching to cup her cheek. She responds with a groan and closes her eyes. He taps her cheek more desperately. “Hey, stay with me!”

With his other hand, he brings two fingers to the tender spot between her jaw and her neck. Her pulse is rapid but faint. Below, the stain spreads further along the cloth of her undershirt. He quickly lifts the hem, his fingers trembling as they brush against the cold skin of her stomach. Blood gushes from the wound at a frightening rate, dripping onto the floor and pooling. 

His heart races as he frantically searches for something to stem the bleeding. It ends up being the closest thing: her discarded uniform. The fabric immediately darkens as he applies pressure. 

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

The blood seeps through, coating his fingers. 

"Come on, stay with me," he pleads.

The blood flow slows a little, but only after having wholly soaked through her uniform. He undoes his vest and shrugs out of his shirt, leaving him in just the long sleeve he wore beneath. He brings the shirt to her waist and ties it tightly to keep the fabric firmly in place. As he secures it, her hand finds his arm. He looks down at her, meeting her gaze. Her eyes are glassy, and her breathing shallow.

"Don't worry, I've got you," he says, trying to sound confident.

Her fingers tighten around his arm, and she mumbles something. He leans closer, straining to hear her words. 

“Don’t let me die here,” she repeats, her voice barely audible. “Please.”

He feels a lump form in his throat. "I won't... I promise."

He leans back against the wall, his eyes never leaving the woman’s face. Breathing heavily, he runs a hand through his hair. Only then does he notice her blood staining his uniform, his hands, and the floor around him. He wipes his hands on his pants, but even in the dim, cold light of the linen room, it’s clear it isn’t going anywhere. 

This isn’t going to be enough to stabilize her; even someone with as little medical knowledge as him can see that it would be a miracle if it did. 

But despite that, amidst the chaos and the overwhelming odds, he still clung to the tenuous belief that he could save her life. He can do what he couldn’t for the others, who’d been only slightly out of his reach and beyond saving. Saving just one person would mean this all meant something, and that he, though just one person unsure of what he’s up against, could be the catalyst for a transformative ripple, a flicker of defiance in the face of the unknown evils inside this building.

It would mean everything.

He glances at the door, feeling his stomach drop with the knowledge of what he must do. The hemostatic agents, the antiseptic—those are her lifelines. If he doesn’t act now, she will die in this small corner of the police station, and she’ll have him to thank. Acknowledging this fact sets him in motion.

In a swift movement, he picks her up in his arms, careful not to exacerbate her injuries. She stirs uncomfortably for a moment, then settles against him. Blood drips from his shirt at her waist and trickles down his arm before pittering on the tile. It’s neverending. 

“Don’t make any noise,” he whispers down at her. Her eyes are screwed shut, but she nods in understanding.

Here goes nothing. He nudges the door open.

Once again, he is greeted with a quiet stillness. The corpses are still lost in a dreamless sleep, and light rain rhythmically blows in through the empty window frames. It could be somewhat comforting if he were ignorant of the foreboding presence lurking in the nearby shadows. With each soft step, he gets further from the haven of the linen room. He passes the expired stun grenade and is approaching the turn of the hall once again when she shifts in his arms. She presses her forehead against his chest, brows furrowed in an effort to stifle her pain. He can’t imagine how it must feel.

He pulls her closer, hoping to offer a modicum of reassurance. We’re almost there. 

It can be said with absolute certainty that he has never moved as slowly as he did turning that godforsaken corner. And for that, he’s been blessed with a clear pathway. Somehow, the creature has not made its presence known. A thought nags at him, daring him to consider that he may have underestimated its intelligence. That it will rear its grotesque head any minute, and its mouth will pull in a sadistic grin, enravished with the idea that he could’ve fooled it once again. 

But this is not the case. There, in the imperceptible darkness, inches above his head, there is a shift. It’s slight enough that he almost misses it. He doesn’t need to look up to know what it is—to know that it’s there, to know that he’s directly below it.

Somehow, he missed it.

His muscles tense, but there’s nothing left to do but continue forward. 

Just a few more steps. 

He places one foot cautiously before the other, careful to avoid shattered glass. The air feels thick with apprehension; every breath a calculated risk. 

Then there’s a tug on his pants. 

A deep, gurgling groan erupts from one of the corpses by his feet, and it pulls itself toward him. On instinct, he brings his boot down to silence it, crushing its skull beneath his heel before it can sink its teeth in. The woman gasps instantly, startled by the sudden jerking movement. Fuck. 

Run.

The walls blur, and time seems to slow as he sprints down the hallway. The woman’s cries intermingle with the sound of talons scraping against the floor, padding down the corridor with a ferocity he doesn’t need to see to know. 

Before it can reach him, he forces the office door open and kicks it shut behind him. He ignores the sounds of it screeching and thrashing about and hurries over to one of the desks, swiping the clutter to the floor before setting her down on the cool wooden surface. He wastes no time in retrieving the trauma kit and rummaging through it, letting items fall haphazardly to the floor.

The seconds are slipping through his fingers. 

“You’re gonna be okay,” he says between breaths. 

She watches him through furrowed brows, blinking slowly as he quickly removes the blood-soaked uniform from her waist. She says nothing, whether due to sheer incapability or hopeless acceptance.

He doesn’t notice either way. 

His hands move quickly. He’s too lost in his efforts to see her watching him. Before the darkness creeps in, her lips form a short, one-word apology that gets lost on its way out, unheard by even her. The whisper of remorse dissipates in the air and fades. Then the world follows suit.

An uncertain amount of time has passed when she begins to stir. The room is blurred beneath the heaviness of her eyelids, but its meager contents slowly reveal themselves: plain wooden desks, some chairs, and personal belongings that confirm she’s in the room she suspects. She’d only been in this office once before when working on an intense, high-profile assignment. Even then, her visit was brief. There’s no reason she should be in here.

She pushes through the clouded haze and props her elbow on the desk to raise herself. Immediately, she’s struck with a burning fire in her abdomen, crumpling her back onto the cold surface. It felt like an electrical fire. Spreading quickly with a force that raised the hair on her skin.

Looking down, she saw the crimson stain on her undershirt, and the memory of the attack came back to her with a visceral shudder. The horrifying creature, the unrelenting pain, and the man who saved her. His name eludes her, the residual memories feeling like a half-forgotten dream. His face, too. Until slowly, the memory begins to sharpen, and she can see his face with full clarity. The young officer had been handsome, with an angular jaw and straight nose that lent him a serious, almost stoic look. Yet there was an undeniable boyishness to him, from the tousled hair falling into his eyes to the way he moved with an easy grace that belied the sharpness of his features. Yes, the stranger had certainly been an easy sight for her weary eyes. 

“You’re awake.”

She nearly jumped out of her skin when the memory began to speak. She realized just then that it wasn’t a memory at all and that he’d emerged from a corner of the room upon hearing her awaken. 

“How are you feeling?” He asks when she doesn’t respond. He’s tense, but his nervous expression seems sincere, and a strange sense of trust begins to settle over her.

“Hurts,” she grumbles. Her throat ached too. Everything ached.

His mouth flattened into a thin line, and his brows furrowed in sympathy. “I know, I’m sorry,” he says.

She notices his hands tremble slightly as they reach out to touch her, brushing warily against the exposed skin at her hip. He doesn’t seem to mind the blood staining his fingers or the hair falling into his eyes as he checks the dressing. Once it’s clear it meets his standard of approval, he looks up, and his light eyes finding hers expectantly, searching for signs of discomfort.

Then it comes back to her. 

“Leon,” she murmurs absently, testing how it sounds out loud. 

A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. "That's me," he says softly. 

She studies his face once again, taking in the way his features soften as he smiles, the gentle curve of his lips, and the way his eyes crinkle at the corners. 

“How long have I been out?” she asks hoarsely.

He pulls the hem of her shirt back down, covering the tender skin once again. “Not long, a few hours maybe.”

She tries to sit up once again, but her body protests with a sharp pain at her side. He places a hand on her upper arm, steadying her. 

“Take it easy,” he urges her in a whisper.

With a wave of her hand, she dismisses his concerns and her pain. She pulls herself off the desk and straightens her shirt. “I’m fine,” she assures him. “I feel like shit, but I’m fine.”

“You look better,” he says, observing her closely. “You have more color in your face.”

A faint smile graces her lips. “I think I have you to thank for that. If you hadn’t found me, I would’ve been done for,” she confesses. “I’d already made peace with it by the time you got there.”

He offers a modest shrug. “I’m not sure about that. You seem like you’re made of tougher stuff, deputy.”

His words prompt her to tilt her head, inspecting his face and searching for any remnants of recognition beyond their recent encounter. But apart from that, there's nothing.

“Oh. I ran your badge while you were out,” he admits, his gaze momentarily directed toward the floor.

“Is that so…” She crosses her arms with a touch of amusement in her voice. Her inner resolve slowly finds her once again. “So was all this done to impress your boss on the first day?”

He chuckles quietly, now somewhat sheepish in the presence of his superior, in a world where such distinctions no longer hold much meaning. Oddly enough, his laughter somehow finds its place seamlessly amidst the heavy air surrounding them. 

Despite the lurking horrors outside the sanctuary of this room and the even grimmer uncertainties ahead, for a brief moment, none of it matters. She stands there as a testament to his actions, breathing proof that he made a difference. Placing himself in the epicenter of this diseased storm no longer feels like ill-fated martyrdom. Within these walls and in the face of the darkness that looms beyond, they are not simply spectators to a morbid narrative; they are, instead, influential participants. All hope isn't lost.

With a smug smile, he finally lifts his gaze to meet hers.

“Did it work?”

#resident evil #resident evil 2 #resident evil 2 remake #re2 #re2 remake #re4 remake #resident evil 4 #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fic #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy x you #deftones #deftones inspo

[crisiscutie]

Doll's Rebirth

...So maybe the idea of Yandere Sephys stealing other Sephy's darlings didn't stop at that one prompt. Let's see what happens when our gator Sephy meets his Dissidia doll and goes into a feral heat.

Pairing: 🐊7R Sephiroth/Dissidia Darling🦋

Content Warning: NSFW. Rough Sex. Noncon. Mommy Kink. Size Difference. Mind Control.

You didn't know what was going on with Sephiroth. You called out his name a few times, and he didn't respond to you.

He kept staring at you menacingly as you approached him, hoping to ask for guidance regarding your fighting skills.

But with no warning, he swiftly tackled you to the ground, his face pressing against your swollen breasts as he inhaled your aroma.

"Mother, mother, mother..." His velvety voice purred as he teasingly nipped at your clothed, engorged nipple.

You suppressed a moan, your face blazing with anger and embarrassment. "Sephiroth!? What the hell are you talking about? What are you doing?"

His menacing stare came back as he locked his green, slit eyes onto yours, and he slowly sat up between your legs.

"So this is who you've chosen, mother. I hope you don't mind if I play with her," he said sweetly. It appeared he was talking to someone else, but as far as you know, there's no one around except the two of you.

The bags under his eyes appeared even darker, and the predatory gleam in them frightened you like never before...

He hiked your minidress up and slithered one of his gloved hands up your inner thighs, sending tingles through your body until he reached your lace panties.

His large hand rested on your clothed cunt for a moment, it was incredible how his hand could completely cover it.

He ripped your lace panties, exposing your cunt and asshole to the cold air.

"You have her scent," he breathed out, his finger delicately tracing your slit. "It is my duty to ensure her doll's durability,"

With a mocking smirk, he unzipped his pants, and his hard, thick cock sprang forth, the bulbous head mockingly pressing against your small clit.

Your eyes widened in fear. You're definitely not ready to take him. His cock seemed to be more thick than normal as well.

Just as he positioned himself at your cunt, his sadistic smirk grew, quickly plunging his fat cock into your tight ass instead.

"So sorry, wouldn't want you getting pregnant this early," He teased as he slammed hips into yours.

You clenched your teeth, your asshole doing its damndest to accommodate his size. You knew he wasn't your Sephiroth now, but he still exuded that same air of mocking arrogance whenever he playfully teased you.

Your walls squeezed his cock, trying to encourage him to thrust deeper and deeper.

It dawned on you that he was much bigger than you when he shifted his body and leaned towards your face.

"Good girl~!" He blissfully growled, granting your quivering clit with some teasing strokes. He's buried to the hilt in your tight hole now, pounding away at it. With each passing moment, it seemed to loosen up, opening wider to him.

Every thrust sent ripples of pain and pleasure through your body, and you can't help but crave more.

He infiltrated your mind, establishing his dominance over you as well. There won't be a single part of you he won't have dominion over.

You absorbed his indoctrination; This is what you're made for: to serve, and please him and his mother.

His luscious lips suddenly captured yours in a fierce kiss, something that your Sephiroth wouldn't ever do, yet.

His tongue invaded your mouth, tangling and dominating with yours.

As he filled you to the brim, he broke the kiss with a low grunt in your ear.

With a twisted warm smile, he gently laid his head on your chest.

"A touching reunion~"

#sephiroth #ff7 sephiroth #final fantasy 7 #ff7 #sephiroth x reader #final fantasy x reader #yandere sephiroth #crisis cutie #doll darling #tw: yandere #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #yandere x willing reader #tw: noncon #tw: mommy kink #tw: emotional manipulation