#fe3h yuri x reader

[glowingbadger]

Which of the Three Houses guys will watch their beloved go off on an enemy and have the reaction of "Well mark me down as scared AND horny", do you think?

Ahh, see my dear Friend Anon, this is a nuanced spectrum- but I'll do my best to break it down as I see it:

Scared and Horny:

Claude - has enough common sense to be scared, but definitely hot-blooded enough to be horny about it. A beautiful balance, frankly, though he may tease you about how wild you were.

Raphael - soooo close to qualifying for the "just horny" category, but he is a sweet boy and still wants to check to be sure you're alright (mentally, emotionally, physically) after the battle.

Ignatz - soooo close to qualifying for the "just scared" category lmao. However, as you all know, I see our boy Ignatz as very repressed and very kinky, and seeing you be so powerful and passionate definitely stirs some part of him.

Ferdinand - practically the poster-boy for "scared and horny" tbh; he feels sheepish about it, but he just can't help how your strength and force of will arouse him.

Seteth - also strangely close to the "just horny" category, not that he wants to admit it; seeing you like this really awakens something primal in him from far in his past. Still, his concern for you is ever-present and ultimately pushes aside how entrancing you look conquering your foes so thoroughly.

Sylvain - I almost don't know how to elaborate on this one because, I mean, of course, right? Of course Sylvain is worried, but also just burning inside watching you flushed in the face, damp with sweat, muscles tight, hair wild.......

Just Scared:

Lorenz - oscillating wildly between worried for you and worried for every person around you. Definitely impressed, don't get me wrong- he appreciates battle prowess. But if you're really going berserk, he's worried.

Dedue - while he's likely right there beside you in the fight, he worries about seeing you get particularly aggressive. He's seen what bloodlust has done to the other most valued person in his life, and never wants to see you go too far down that path.

Ashe - it's not as though he can't stomach violence, he just feels that there's a certain responsibility and necessity for rules of engagement when it comes to combat, hence his proclivity for chivalry. Seeing you completely lose yourself worries him, and he'll want to be with you and hold you and make sure you're okay as soon as he can.

Just Horny:

Hubert - I feel like this is more or less self explanatory lmao. Though he does still hope you'll be rational and not do anything unnecessarily risky while eviscerating your foes.

Caspar - again, an obvious choice. Honestly, I think Caspar wants to fuck after just about every battle you two come back from, provided neither of you is hurt too badly.

Jeritza - this is the most obvious one so far lol. Though, when he's more 'himself,' he does silently worry about you sharing in his bloodshed and provoking the Death Knight part of him.

Felix - honestly, it's probably even fiercer than Hubert or Caspar; the lust he feels for you in the heat of battle is both primal and nearly spiritual. This is about his whole life philosophy, after all. After a particularly tough and gruesome fight, he wants nothing more than to absolutely ravage you (and might need to be talked down if he has wounds to attend to first)

Outliers:

Linhardt - ideally, he is not present, as the sight of you "going off" on an enemy is likely to involve waaaaay more blood than he's comfy with. He'll definitely tend to you afterward, and wryly scold you for going overboard (secretly, he was super worried when he heard from your comrades of how ferocious you were out there)

Dimitri - he's in different categories depending on where he's at in his arc tbh. Feral Dimitri is obviously just horny about you diving into the bloodshed with him, while "redeemed" Dimitri has some measure of restraint about it

Yuri - it's more like "amused/impressed and horny," tbh. Though he never looses his head about it- he's still keeping a close eye on you to make sure nothing goes awry. But he won't deny that he enjoys watching, nonetheless.

#fire emblem #fe3h #few3h #not sfw #fire emblem thirst posting #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem x reader #fire emblem headcanons #fe3h x reader #lorenz hellman gloucester #claude von reigen #raphael kirsten #ignatz victor #hubert von vestra #ferdinand von aegir #caspar von bergliez #linhardt von hevring #jeritza von hrym #seteth #yuri leclerc #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #felix hugo fraldarius #sylvain jose gautier #ashe ubert

[owlespresso]

If you’re still accepting prompts, may I humbly submit : “You don’t have to leave, you know” with Yuri!

“You can stay, you know,” Yuri murmurs. You look over at him. Dawn’s first light nudges through the curtains, paints the room eggshell blue, touches the strands of his hair with pearlescent light. You feel newly hatched. Clumsy, clueless little heartbeat beating wings against your ribcage. The blanket is pooled at his waist. He’s all pale and lean, comfy as a cat under the spot of sun.

You’re in the middle of shoving your trousers back on when he beseeches you. Caught red-handed. His cheek is smooshed against the downy pillow, eyelids low and voice soft with slip. But he’s still smiling. A drowsy kind of smile. He’s like an old painting, pale brushstrokes capturing the foggy, ethereal feel of the hour. The last stars twinkle in the milky periwinkle skies. 

You drop your pants for the second time, and march back to the bed like the lucky fool you are, thunking dead onto your side of the mattress.

“I know I can stay. It’s my bedroom. In my house.”

“Yet you’re always so eager to scuttle away the moment I take my eyes off you,” Yuri replies, just as easily. He reaches over, idly runs slender hands up and down your arm. That tender touch ventures to your back, bleeding the tension out of you. “I think I spend more time in here than you do.”

“I’m not running away,” you mumble, cross at his teasing. You settle onto your side. The haze of sleep still clings to his expression, glassy eyes blinking slow as he takes you in.

“Mhm,” he sounds horribly unconvinced. “Sorry. I’m not sure what else to call it when you wait until you think I’m asleep to sneak out of bed.”

“I just thought—” you splutter, suddenly mortified. How many times has he pretended to be asleep? How many times has he witnessed you stumble around the room like a newborn foal, plucking your clothes off the floor and off the bedpost and off the chair by the window? “I just though you might want some space.” You shove your face into the sheets. Your hand rests palm flat on the space between you.

“Mmh. Did I say or do anything to give you that impression?” he asks, suddenly thoughtful.

“No. I just—I mean, you see me almost every day. It’s probably good to give you a break, y’know? So you don’t get sick of me,” you say, as wryly as you possibly can. Better a half-truth than outright admitting your own insecurities, admitting just how much stock you put into his opinion of you.

“I’ve spent the past two years following you around like a lost mutt. Do you really think I would do that for someone I could ever possibly get sick of?” he looks at you incredulously. “Saint Seiros, you’re dense.” He sounds utterly bemused, but his hand settles atop of yours to pin it to the mattress. He interlaces your fingers. You smother your face into the sheets.

“Well, sorry! It’s not like I can read your mind!” you grumble, increasingly mumbled.

“Then c’mere and read my lips,” Yuri yoinks you from your hiding spot with a hand between your shoulder blades. He nudges you onto your back with devastating ease, smooth as silk in the way he slots a thigh between your legs. “I’m obsessed with you. Have been ever since you fell face-first into the Abyss.”

You grimace at the reminder of the incident. The loose, rotting floorboards of a particularly disused shed gave way. You would have wound up a splatter on the floor of the Abyss’s arena had Balthus not been there to catch you. 

“Don’t go anywhere,” Yuri presses his lips to your chin, and then to your cheeks, retaining your attention with practiced finesse. Not that he ever has to try very hard. “And listen really close, because I’m not good at saying this kind of thing.”

“I need you. I want you. I don’t know what I would do if you ever left me,” Yuri smoothes himself atop of your prone form, palms sliding up your forearms to pin both hands to the sheets. “Do you understand?” he murmurs against your jaw, placing kisses there too. Lips warm and smooth.

You manage a scandalized squawk, heat flooding your cheeks. That seems to mollify him.

#imagine fe3h #oz write #yuri leclerc/reader #yuri leclerc x reader #fe3h x reader #fe3h writing

[geasthewritingrat]

Proposing at the same time

Pairings; Ferdinand x reader, Hubert x reader, Claude x reader, Dimitri x reader, Yuri x reader (separate) Gender Neutral! Possibly OOC but I’ve just worked 6 days consecutively I’m tired (I also didn’t mean for Ferdie and Hubie’s to be so much longer than everyone else’s I promise)

Ferdie; -He spent so much time in multiple different towns, trying to find the best ring for you, and if he wasn’t so swamped with work he’d have made the ring himself, but he eventually settled on a gorgeous, elegant yet extravagant, jewelled band that suits you and your stunning beauty perfectly -The whole night was perfectly planned, from the time he calls for you, to the sweet speech he’d prepared (and rehearsed) over the course of many early mornings (Hubie caught him reading it in front of the mirror once and poor Ferdie’s never seen such pure amusement on anyone’s face) -It’s already all set up by the time you both reach the secluded meadow, blanket laid neatly in a patch of grass surrounded by flowers, yet not squishing too many, candles carefully placed so they don’t fall and burn everything to the ground, fireflies dancing in the moonlight, your favourite foods, lovingly handmade by Ferdinand himself, beautifully covered so none other than you two could enjoy it -A perfect night for the most perfect person in his eyes -Yet he completely forgets that he was meant to propose. Literally just, forgets. He’s so enthralled by your beauty and enraptured by your melodic voice that he forgets about the box in his pocket, forgets about the speech he made, forgets that he’s meant to ask you to share the rest of your lives together because in that moment it truly seemed as if you were the only people to exist -It’s only when you, having known his plan all along (he’s not subtle nor sly enough to hide it), pull out a box containing the ring you spent weeks choosing, showing it to him with a sheepish smile, that he remembers what he came there to do and scrambles to pull out the ring he chose for you -Very romantic, 10/10 -He later tells Dorothea everything that happened, dramatically lamenting the fact he never got to say his long, very sweet speech he had prepared, and she brings the whole ordeal up during her speech at the wedding

Hubie; -Oh Hubie, oh sweet, caring mother hen Hubie -As well-informed and sly as he is, he’s near-hopeless when it comes to romance, so when he found out you were taking trips to various jewellers searching for rings he genuinely thought you were just browsing for yourself, even if its not usually your type of thing (or, maybe you were looking at rings for him, to coax him out of his glove-wearing obsession) -With how much time he spent also at the same jewellers that you visited (he thought you were better with accessories than him so he followed your lead in secret) you’d think he would wisen up and figure it out but no, it takes the jeweller themself mentioning you for him to realise you were looking for engagement rings and not everyday rings -He found a ring that he thought would be perfect for you and the jeweller mentioned that you’d been eyeing that one and that’s what finally made him clock on to what all your trips had truly been for -Not wanting to be taken by surprise with no way to smoothly recover and act like he has everything perfectly planned all the time, he carries the ring with him everywhere he goes, even if you’re not nearby or maybe even in a whole other city doing work stuff -After a talk with Edelgard, he decides to plan something special to show that he does, in fact, absolutely adore you and everything you do, but he does still keep the ring with him in a special pocket that he refuses to use for anything else -It happens at a time that neither of you had prepared (the dinner he had planned was set for a week later, and you were gonna do it later the next night), you two were just sitting by the waterfront one warm afternoon, gazing out at the glittering lake before you, when you felt peaceful and relaxed enough to ask him to close his eyes as you stood to kneel behind him, ring box in hand -He’s smart (sometimes) and knows exactly what you’re doing, so he takes the ring box out of his pocket and displays it proudly as he turns around once you tell him you’re ready

Claude; -Fecker knew the whole damn time -Somehow knew from the moment you thought to yourself “huh, I think I wanna marry Claude” -He mentions to Hilda one day that he’s 99% sure you’re out shopping for engagement rings at that exact moment, and then says “hey you know what would be really funny” and decides that he, too, would be proposing after you spent so much time & effort planning everything with your second closest confidant (whoever that may be) -So when you finally muster up the courage to take him to a gorgeous beach one evening after a satisfying dinner, he’s got this unusual, unreadable grin on his face, hands behind his back as he fiddles with the little velvet box containing the ring he oh so lovingly chose for you, only to trip and fall, grabbing you by the arm and bringing you down with him -Now, two identical ring boxes lay on the sand in front of you, and Claude’s sheepish “surprise?” almost makes up for the mouthful of sand you’re now having to spit out -He’s laughing and you’re eating sand

Dima; –Absolutely clueless -You two proposing at the same time really is just pure chance -He didn’t even know you were planning on proposing in the first place! Okay maybe he had a slight hunch but he didn’t want to ask in case he was wrong and it was just wishful thinking on his part -Dimitri (lovely Dima, gorgeous man, amazing) asks the Blue Lions for help with choosing the right ring and planning the perfect date, some help more begrudgingly than others (looking at you Felix Hugo Fraldarius), but in the end he has a solid plan and a pretty damn gorgeous ring, all he needs now is self confidence and you -A while before the actual event, he tells you that he’s taking you to see some of Faerghus’ most beautiful snowy areas, promising countless tales from his childhood, and you decide that that’s the perfect time to propose, because it sounds phenomenal and you had no idea Dimitri was planning on proposing then too -When you two reach the absolutely stunning and truly wondrous area, you pull out your ring box and get on one knee, only to see Dimitri blink a few times before doing the exact same thing, blushing hard and smiling wide

Yuri; -He found out your plan by accidentally going to the same jeweller as you at the same time as you, seeing you carefully inspecting the engagement rings as he got through the door, but because he’s Yuri mf Leclerc you didn’t see him as he stood in the shadows and observed your choice -It made him feel all warm & fuzzy inside so he searches high and low for The Best Ring Ever to give to you -From that point onwards, he’s taking the ring with him whenever you ask him to join you on an outing, no matter how big or small that outing may be, but to his surprise you don’t propose on any of those trips -One day, he’s been working non stop for hours, so you waltz into his office and all-but drag him to the dining table, lecturing him about how he needs to eat properly even if his work is very important, and since he just thought it was a normal dinner he didn’t take the ring with him -To his shock, you end up spontaneously proposing after you both finish eating, confessing that you were planning to propose on each of those little trips you took him on, only for it to not feel right or for nerves to get the better of you, so you decided to do it in a place you both feel comfortable and at ease -He accepts, obviously, but then takes you back to his office to show you that he bought you a ring too, slipping it straight onto your finger

- Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed! As always I have been Geas and you have been awesome, never forget that. I hope that you are giving yourself a break and treating yourself fairly, because while things may seem like they’re spinning out of control sometimes, you are stronger and better than you know. -

#ferdinand x reader #ferdinand von aegir x reader #ferdinand von aegir #hubert x reader #hubert von vestra x reader #hubert von vestra #claude von riegen x reader #claude x reader #claude von riegan #dimitri x reader #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd x reader #yuri x reader #yuri leclerc x reader #fe3h x reader #fire emblem x reader #fire emblem three houses x reader #fe3h ferdinand #fe3h hubert #fe3h claude #fe3h dimitri #fe3h yuri

[frickingnerd]

“you're just a distraction”

pairing: yuri leclerc x gn!reader

summary: you're more than a friend and less than a lover to yuri. but are you truly just a "distraction"?

"you're just a distraction"

that's what yuri had told you, when you asked him why he was spending so much time with you. to him, you were just a distraction from his work and the usual people he spent time with at the officers academy.

the two of you were more than friends, but less than lovers. not an actual couple. but if anyone would dare hit on you, yuri would scare them away. and the same counted for any guys and girls hitting on him. for just being a distraction, he was devoted to you. devoted enough to make you the only one he spent his time with.

it took yuri quite a while to admit to himself that you had become more than just a distraction to him. slowly but surely, he began to miss you when you weren't around. his days without you were bleak and he longed to be by your side.

yuri promised himself that he'd make you his eventually. he didn't want you to continue to believe you were just a distraction. he might have meant the words when you asked him back then. but if you'd ask him again now, he'd tell you how he felt now.

"you're everything to me"

#yuri leclerc x reader #yuri leclerc #yuri x reader #fire emblem yuri #fe yuri #yuri #leclerc #x reader #x you #x y/n #x gn reader #fluff #suggestive #oneshot #drabble #FE3H #FE3H x reader #fire emblem x reader #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem three hopes #fire emblem #angst #dating #relationship

[agent-cupcake]

Asteria

Pairing: Yuri Leclerc x f!reader

Synopsis: After moving to the big city and starting a new job working for the lawyer Aelfric Dahlman, you meet Yuri Leclerc. And then the dreams begin.

Warnings: explicit smut, dubcon (dream sex)

Tags: incubi, modern AU, more plot than porn, manipulation, naïve reader, some light drugging

Notes: @pastrycreams asked for Yuri with the prompt of "Dreams" and specified incubi and this fell out of my fingers. It's similar to Somnambulant with Linhardt but I tried to keep it from being same-y.

Please note that this is wildly inaccurate. Christian Louboutin does not make spiked Chelsea boots in white.

Word Count: 10.9k

“Well, well, what do we have here?” 

The smooth voice startled you enough to let out a little squeak, falling out of your crouch beneath the desk where you had been, with middling success, trying to untangle the mess of wires. You hadn’t even heard someone come in. Sitting in an embarrassing splay on the cold tile, you looked at the speaker, scanning from a pair of shiny white spiked Chelsea boots with red soles and up to a set of eyeliner-winged eyes. Long-ish lavender hair tied in a tail, smiling pink lips, and well dressed in what you could only describe as fashionably androgynous, the man’s appearance in the context of a shiny professional law firm was nearly as surprising as the suddenness of his interruption. 

“My apologies,” he said, offering you a hand and a warm grin and a distinct lack of contrition. “I had no intention of scaring you.”  

“No, no, it’s okay,” you said hurriedly, accepting his hand to stand up with no small amount of hot-faced embarrassment. Despite all appearances, he lifted you up with ease, his grip firm and steady. Rather than releasing you right away, his touch lingered, fingertips trailing over your palm as he pulled away. Was that intentional? It made your stomach buzz with butterflies. “Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure,” he told you. “Maybe you can help me in return. I’m here to see Aelfric, is he in?” 

“Yes, he is,” you said, caught off guard all over again. Flustered for entirely non-professional reasons and hoping desperately he couldn’t tell. You pressed the button on the phone to call Mr. Dahlman. 

“You have a… visitor, sir,” you said, stammering upon the realization that you hadn’t asked for a name. 

“I’ll be right out,” he replied over the speaker.

“I’m really sorry,” you told said visitor. “I didn’t know Mr. Dahlman had any appointments this afternoon.”

“He doesn’t, that’s precisely why I’m here,” he said, giving no further explanation. 

You frowned, unsure how to interpret that. “I… see.” 

“I’m Yuri, by the way,” he told you, brushing past your confusion with ease. “You’re Aelfric’s new receptionist, yeah?” His eyes slowly gave you a very obvious once over, not so lecherous as it was admiring. Or maybe those two things were a little less defined with people as pretty as him. “I suppose that means we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.” He smirked. “Look forward to it.”

“Yuri,” Mr. Dahlman said, coming out of his office just in time to graciously save you from having to answer. “What a pleasant surprise.” 

“Well I wouldn’t want you to get bored,” Yuri said, smiling at Mr. Dahlman with a friendly familiarity. “You didn’t tell me you were looking for a new receptionist.”

“Yes, it was rather short notice.” Mr. Dahlman looked at you. “Mr. Leclerc is a close associate of mine… Yuri, shall we speak in my office? I'm sure she's still busy getting settled in.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble, Mr. Dahlman,” you readily told him. “If there’s anything you need, please let me know. You as well, Mr. Leclerc.”

“Someone’s eager. You’re new to the city, aren’t you,” Yuri said knowingly, a little dryly. 

You blinked at him in surprise, looking at Mr. Dahlman and back again before smiling abashedly. “How did you guess?” 

“Stick around a while,” Yuri told you. “I’m sure you’ll see exactly what I mean.”

“Um, alright,” you said, nodding because that seemed to be the right response. It made Yuri smile. There was a mirth dancing in his eyes that seemed distinctly amused, even interested. 

The two men disappeared back into Mr. Dahlman’s office and you sat down, attempting to turn the computer on only to remember what you had been doing in the first place. Back onto the floor you went, more aware now of how ridiculous you probably looked and hyper aware of the sound of a door opening. Luckily, you avoided further embarrassment and were back in your seat by the time Yuri left Mr. Dahlman’s office. 

“It was nice meeting you, Mr. Leclerc,” you told him with a professional smile. Yuri paused, evaluating you with his head titled slightly. 

“You too,” he told you. “And if you have any problems here, be sure to let me know. I’ve got some experience living in the city.” 

“Oh. Um, thank you very much, Mr. Leclerc,” you said, hoping your surprise didn’t taint the sincerity of your gratitude. “That’s very kind of you.” 

“Don’t mention it,” Yuri said with a warm smile. “I’ve got a feeling you and I are going to get along just fine.” 

Again with the butterflies, juvenile as they were. “I hope so, Mr. Leclerc,” you told him. 

“Have a good night,” he said. “I don’t doubt we’ll see each other again soon.” 

The dusky sky outside the windows behind his desk dyed Mr. Dahlman’s office in rich oranges and yellows, reflecting off of the picturesque skyline view as you stepped into his open doorway. People warned you of the city before you moved here, and you understood why, but sometimes the sights were just so heart-achingly beautiful you couldn’t help but love it.

“Is there anything else you need before I go?” you asked Mr. Dahlman. 

“Oh, no,” he said, looking up from whatever he was working on with a smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Yes, of course,” you said. But you didn’t leave right away, chewing on your lip as you considered if it would be okay to ask. Surely there were taboos about what you could speak to your employer about regarding his work, but it wasn’t as if Mr. Dahlman was just your boss. You knew him through the Church, he was an active member and close friend of your local priest. Since you had experience working as a secretary, he agreed to an interview. Everything after that was, as you liked to think of it, a gift from the goddess.

“Is there something else?” Mr. Dahlman asked. You hesitated, knowing that you had been far too obvious lingering in his doorway yet embarrassed to be called out on it. 

“That man from earlier, Mr. Leclerc,” you ventured. “He’s not a client?” 

“No,” Mr. Dahlman said. “I retain Yuri’s services. I apologize for not warning you beforehand, he has a habit of coming in unannounced.”

“He does this often?” you asked.

“You must forgive his eccentricities,” Mr. Dahlman said. “Yuri is a skilled professional and, if you will forgive my honesty, a personal friend.” His tone was strange. Tense, putting special emphasis on each word to impart his meaning. 

“Oh, I-I wasn’t upset or anything,” you quickly told him. “And I didn’t mean to sound rude, I was just curious. I’m sorry to have pried.” 

“The goddess would hardly condemn curiosity, and neither will I,” Mr. Dahlman told you warmly, easing your concerns. “I assure you that Yuri is worthy of your trust.”

That assurance made your shoulders relax, letting go of the tension you had barely been aware of. If Mr. Dahlman said someone was trustworthy, you could believe that wholeheartedly. “That’s good then,” you said. “Thank you. Have a good night, Mr. Dahlman.”  

“You too,” he said. “Do try to get a full night’s rest, I shudder to think of what your mother would say if you returned ragged and overworked.” 

That made you smile as you left.

“Who are you?” you asked, sitting up to get a better look at the figure standing in front of your window. They were indistinct with shadow, outlined in the bluish light from outside. Seeing a stranger in your room didn’t frighten you. Dream logic made the situation entirely normal, natural.  

A dream. You couldn’t define how you knew it was, but you did. 

“Your room is cute,” the figure said, speaking in a distinctly masculine voice. He turned around. Faintly, you could see his face, the little smile he wore as he considered you. A part of your mind, fanciful and floating, wondered if he was an angel. A spirit sent by the goddess herself. “I didn’t expect you to be an artist, although I can’t say I’m surprised by your faith. It’s not something I mind, but…” He paused, sighing as he approached your bed. “Hiring a sweet, innocent little airhead to be his secretary just to tempt me into continuing to play along was low. He acted as if he has no idea, it was nearly enough to make me reconsider taking the bait. But then again…” 

“Wait,” you said, frowning as you tried to make sense of his words. Confused more than anything. Dazed, sluggish in both thought and movement. 

“What am I waiting for?” he asked, his voice low and eyes half lidded. With each slow, measured step he’d gotten even closer. 

“I don’t know,” you said, frowning. If this was a dream, and you could only surmise that it was, it was the most vivid dream you’d ever had. “We’ve met before?” 

“Very good,” he said sarcastically, kneeling on your bed and easily pulling away your blanket. The air wasn’t cold, but goosebumps covered your bare legs. “I don’t suppose you remember my name?” 

In the dim light, his hair was darker, but his purple eyes were luminous as they scanned your body, his skin practically glowing with the subtle shine of a star. A ghost, a vision of beauty. 

“Mr. Leclerc?" you guessed.

That made him laugh, looking at your face with a smile not all too dissimilar from the one you had seen in the waking world. Yuri Leclerc. The odd, beautiful man with the nice clothes and butterfly inducing smirk. Not an angel at all, then. 

“Is that really what you want to call me now?” he asked, leaning in closer, his fingertips trailing up your neck to nudge your chin a little higher. Your breathing was out of control and unsteady, the only part of your body that seemed to be moving in real time and not in the sluggish trance. 

“What are you doing?” you whispered, reaching out to touch his arm. Instead, Yuri entwined his fingers between your own, pinning your hand against the headboard as he crawled fully onto your bed, hovering above you. “Wait,” you protested again, but you weren’t really fighting. 

“Why?” Yuri asked, his face so close to your own you could feel the brushing air of that word. You expected him to kiss you, but he didn’t, his lips trailing across your cheek instead. “It’s your dream.”

Did that mean it was okay? You squirmed, all too aware of the weight of his body against your own. It felt real. He felt real. 

“It’s… wrong,” you muttered, although there wasn’t much conviction in your voice.

“Do you really think so? I think it’s only natural to dream of what we desire,” Yuri told you. His voice lowered a bit, his eyes hypnotically fixated on your own. “It’s okay to be honest with yourself. The goddess will forgive you for what you can’t control.” 

Those words buzzed sweetly in your head, filling you with a floaty sort of warmth. It was okay, that made sense. Just a dream. You used to dream often about all sorts of things, it wasn’t your fault. 

“There is something you want, right?” he prompted. You hesitated for a long moment before nodding, a barely perceptible bob of your head. What you wanted. Your eyes dropped down to his mouth, hovering so close to your own, but you couldn’t just ask, the words weren’t there. “A kiss?” Yuri guessed. Your sharp intake of breath was enough of a response for him to smile. “Just a kiss?” he pushed, teasing now. 

You squirmed nervously, utterly aware of his proximity and unable to meet his eyes. “What else?” you finally asked, your voice quiet. 

He hesitated, and then laughed, pressing his face against yours so you could feel his smile. “You are so very lucky that I’m patient. But you’re right. There’s no need to rush this.”  

And then he kissed you. 

You had just gotten home from work when your mother called, barely a step past the threshold when you heard the ringtone you’d assigned for her contact.

“Hey mom!” you greeted her on the third ring, toeing off your shoes and dropping your stuff in the entryway. Which was also the living room and kitchen. City living was cramped beyond reason, although you thought your apartment was charming. “Perfect timing, I literally just walked in the door.” 

“Oh, that's good! I wasn't sure if it was a bad time, but I called to see how you’re doing,” she told you. Hearing her voice was more than enough to make you desperately homesick, but you pushed that emotion down. “Have you been settling in alright?” 

“I am,” you told her.

“Everything’s good at work?” 

“Yes, Mr. Dahlman is a great boss,” you responded, dropping sideways onto the little couch you’d managed to fit into the living space. “I’m learning all sorts of things already.” 

“And your art?”

“Still working on it, when I have time,” you told her. “I probably won’t have anything ready to submit for a while, but… I love being here, there’s so much to do and see and… But I miss you guys a lot.” 

“We miss you too,” she said. Conversation went on from there. She told you about your dad, and about the various goings-on of the small town you had moved out of, and you told her stories of the craziness of city life. 

“Have you met any friends?” she asked eventually, an innocent question all things considered. But it gave you pause. Of all things, guilt dropped into your stomach at the idea of meeting someone. It was as instinctual as it was confusing, you hadn’t done anything, had you? 

“Uhm—no,” you finally responded. Nerves danced uncertainty within you, causing your eyes to flick from shadow to shadow in search of something you knew wasn’t there. 

“Are you okay?” she asked. You blinked a few times, shaking your head at the odd reaction. 

“Yeah, just really tired, I think,” you said. “I didn’t sleep very well last night.” Trying to play it off, you laughed a little, although thinking about the night before didn’t help much with the feeling. “Anyway, The people in the congregation are really nice, but most of them are older. You know how it is, I’m sure I’ll meet lots of new people when I start classes.” 

Before long, both of you had to leave to figure out the dinner situation. She scolded you about eating too many frozen meals, and you assured her that you wouldn’t be. Boxed macaroni and cheese was completely different. 

But that incomprehensible sense of shame returned in full force as you got ready for bed. Focusing too hard on the thought made it scitter away, but you were certain you had dreamed about someone in particular. That didn’t help with the shame, even if it was ridiculous. Obviously you had never entertained a man in your home, let alone in your bedroom. Intimacy was one of those things you expected would come later in life, as a result of being in love, with somebody you cared deeply about. These odd flashes of memory were akin to the strange dreams you had as a child, the nightmares you cried to your parents about. 

Not real.

Every time Yuri touched you, your entire body jerked. No matter how lightly his fingertips grazed your skin, how gently he traced little circles over the drenched fabric of your panties, you jolted and strained against your restraints. Whatever bound your arms above your head—in a dream, it didn’t matter, it was merely a part of the set, a part of the hazy unreality—kept you from intervening in his slow torture. And that’s what this was, what it had to be. Torturous.  

“Yuri,” you got out, trying to breathe, trying to find purchase in a world crumbling around you, hazy in the overbearing heat of lust. “Please…” 

“What’s the matter?” he asked, utterly innocent as his fingers dragged across your clothed slit, pressing the fabric against the oversensitive flesh a little harder. “I’m taking it slow, just like you wanted.” 

Vaguely, you knew that was what you had said. To take it slow, to leave your clothes on, to keep from falling truly into the depravity your brain seemed to be reveling in. Was that really what you wanted? At this point, you couldn’t tell. More of this would be your undoing, but if he stopped, your need would burn you from the inside out. 

“Unless you’ve changed your mind,” he teased, his hands flattening out across your inner thighs to spread them wider. The way his elegant fingers indented the soft flesh stoked the artist side of you, although that only fed the lust. 

“I don’t know,” you said, practically whining with distress. 

“There are people who would kill to get an offer like that from me,” Yuri told you, his head tilting to expose his perfectly pale neck. That was all you could see, considering he was still dressed. Even that tiny amount of skin was enough to believe him, to believe that people would kill for this. “But that’s part of why I like you. All buttoned up and proper, oh-so sheltered. Even in a dream, you can’t bring yourself to admit what you want. Of course, I wouldn’t mind a bit more…”

You practically spasmed when he touched your clit, using the extra friction of the fabric to make you shudder, your legs trying to close. 

“No?” Yuri asked, forcing your thighs to spread once again. “That’s fine… For now.” He pushed one arm beneath your hips and lowered himself between your legs, ensuring you were watching. You strained once more against the restraints, back arching, muscles so tense you felt close to breaking, but you couldn’t look away as his head dropped. His mouth was warm and wet and you could almost imagine what it would be like without the barrier of your panties in the way. His tongue wetted the fabric further as it traced your clit, refusing to give you pressure where you most needed it. 

Yuri just laughed when you tried to grind against his face, pulling away and letting your hips drop back down to the bed. You exhaled heavily, almost like a sob if it weren’t so airy. 

“Say the word,” he told you as he sat up, meeting your eyes again. “And I’ll give you exactly what you want.” He hesitated, shrugging one shoulder. “Or, at the very least, I’ll think about it.” 

You frowned, eyebrows furrowing. “But this is… It’s my dream, so why…?” 

“You’re right,” Yuri agreed, crawling forward until his face was right in front of your own. His eyes were so clear, so perfectly intense, that you felt right then that this couldn’t possibly be a dream. “You have a filthy mind, you know that?”

“He’ll be with you in a minute,” you said, trying to sound professional.

“No problem, I don’t mind waiting,” Yuri Leclerc said with a charming smile, leaning against your desk instead of sitting in one of the comfortable leather chairs to wait. That didn’t make your predicament any easier because the longer he hung around, the more convinced you were that your sinking suspicions were right. 

You were going to scramble your brains to be jarred like the Egyptians did to their Pharaohs. You were going to personally reintroduce the lobotomy to the medical world. You were going to never sleep again if it meant you could wipe away the memory you had of Yuri Leclerc in your dreams. Yuri Leclerc, a man you had met once, kissing you, touching you. 

How many times? You could only remember little moments, the fleeting gossamer of dream difficult to pin down in any meaningful way. It had been a few days since your first meeting, but you knew you’d been sleeping rather poorly ever since. 

“Do you want something to drink?” you asked, doing your best to act innocent, to push those thoughts down as far as you could manage. “We have Coke. I think there’s also juice. And water, of course.”

“Not right now,” Yuri told you. “Although if the offer’s still on the table later tonight, I’d happily take you up on it. Assuming the drink comes with the pleasure of your company.” 

You laughed nervously, trying to be a good sport and not think about how striking his silky black shirt looked against his ivory skin. “Well, we close at six usually, so it can’t be too late.” 

His eyes narrowed. No eyeshadow today, although he didn’t exactly need it to make the color of his eyes pop. “Do you work at being adorably clueless, or does it come naturally?” he asked, deadpan. 

It took you a moment to realize what he was talking about, especially when your brain shorted out at having been called adorable. “Oh, I…”

“Naturally then,” he said. Seeing your nervous expression, he softened. “Don’t get so worked up, I’m just teasing.” 

“Right. Yeah, I know, I’m just-”

“Yuri,” Mr. Dahlman called in greeting, cutting you off. 

Yuri looked at you. “Think about that drink, yeah? I’d love to get to know you a little better.” 

Usually you left Church services feeling rejuvenated, but the week’s sermon about sin had left you feeling heavy and tired. 

Sin wasn’t something you had ever seriously considered. It was natural, of course. Mankind sinned. The goddess knew that, which was why she was a forgiving force. But internal sin, the kind that was determined not by action but by thought, had never seemed as important to you as the sin of deeds or speech. Everyone had ugly thoughts that weren’t representative of them as a person, things that they would never say or act upon. The things you thought about Yuri weren’t exactly ugly, and you could accept that it was normal to be attracted to a man who seemed crafted to invite attraction on both an artistic and intimate level, but you knew it was a sin. A grave, vile sin. 

When your mom called that afternoon, the last thing you wanted to do was talk, but you didn’t want to worry her either. Most of it went fine. Talking about home and the city, leaving out a few key details. 

“Are you doing okay, hon?” she asked, her concern obvious even over the phone. You realized you’d been a little spaced out, looking with a sickened sense of horror at the pages of your most recent sketches. A dream given life. Far too much life. 

“No, things are going really well!” you told her, shutting the notebook and trying to sound positive. 

“And with your art?” she asked. “You haven’t mentioned that.” 

Of course you hadn’t mentioned that you’d been obsessively rendering the same lovely face to paper and canvas, the same pair of royal eyes, the same smirking lips. 

“I’ve been too busy,” you told her. “Since there’s so much construction, there are a lot of dispute cases. But Mr. Dahlman said it’ll be over before classes start, so it’s fine.” 

“Do you want to be punished?” Yuri asked, obviously making fun of you. He kept distracting you from what he was saying, his fingers lazily toying with your clit. Panties off this time, although you couldn’t recall when that happened. The sensation of direct touch shot hot, blinding need through you. Even the smallest nudge was nearly more than you could bear, worse because he acted so indifferent. “For this supposed sin, I mean. Or maybe you think you deserve it. Should desire be met with condemnation? Even if you’re not hurting anybody? Even if it results in pleasure for both parties involved?” 

Paying attention was difficult when you were so hyper focused on the hand between your legs, but you knew that you needed to because Yuri got testy when he had to repeat himself. For all that you ever thought about taking things slow, or not allowing them at all, you very badly did not want him to stop. 

“But it… it doesn’t,” you finally told him, gathering together enough of a thought to speak somewhat clearly. “You’re not real.” 

Even though you said that, the pleasure certainly felt real. He smelled real, sweet and fresh. Yuri had taken off his shirt at some point. He was as perfect as you imagined, surprisingly muscular considering his slighter frame. Scars littered his body, old but stark against his soft, pale skin. Beautiful, so lovely that you knew you’d never properly capture it on paper. Above all else, his body was solid, comfortably warm against your own, his hair silken and soft between your fingers. 

“Oh, you’re going to hurt my feelings, saying things like that,” Yuri told you, feigning a pout. His hand pulled away, but you didn’t have time to mourn its absence as he pushed you onto your back, splayed beneath him like so many times before. The ceiling glittered with stars. No longer your room, then. You yelped in confusion at the shift, squirming, but he easily kept you pinned. Watching your face intently, his fingers finally pushed past the fluttering muscles of your entrance.

You had tested it a few times while awake, only to be met with disappointment at how poor of a replacement your own hand was for his. When Yuri curled his fingers against your inner walls, your entire self reacted, drawing up taut and your mouth falling open in a moan. Physical sensation, psychological arousal, physiological pleasure, he electrified your entire being so easily, so casually. 

“Yuri…” you gasped, clawing at the sheets as he pulled his fingers out, thrusting them into you deeper, a little more roughly. Your pussy squeezed his fingers desperately, your body chasing pleasure independently of you. 

“You never did answer my question,” Yuri said, his voice lower but otherwise unaffected. Always so aloof, so detached. God like, almost.

All you had as an answer was a moan, low and filthy and needy. You didn’t want to think, you just wanted him to never stop, to enjoy this dream always, to have him always. 

“Do you,” Yuri asked, his fingers pumping into you at an agonizingly slow pace, “think you deserve to be punished?” 

You swallowed hard, your head pushing back into the pillows and body straining. Whenever you dared to peek at him, the unfairness of it all was alarming. Here you were in a state of sweaty disarray, bared before him, and Yuri looked so casual, so poised. You groaned in frustration, whimpered when he responded with a harsher thrust. 

“I don’t know,” you told him.

“There’s something about you that makes me think you’d enjoy a bit of pain, you know? Whips, chains, that sort of thing. Of course, I would never stoop to such medieval methods,” Yuri said, setting a faster, harder pace. He didn’t usually go too far, unraveling you little by little until pushing you over the edge, but this was different. Yuri seemed entirely focused on getting you off, on overwhelming you with friction, with pleasure. “Something to consider, at least.” 

You shook your head, back arching. When his other hand descended to play with your clit, the influx of sensation was nearly enough to confuse you, to delay the breaking point out of something like confusion. 

“Yuri, I can’t, I’m—” 

“Go ahead, then,” he told you warmly, almost mockingly. “Come for me.” 

Your entire body seized up, responding to his words as if they were a command. Maybe they were, Yuri could certainly pass for a kind, generous king, touching you and giving you pleasure as he saw fit. Or an angel, like you first assumed. Or a god, as he so often looked above you.

You gasped, opening your eyes, desperately trying to chase that snapped thread of pleasure, of warmth, only to realize that your room was bright with early morning sunshine. Sweaty and tangled up in your sheets, you were still fully dressed and very, very alone. Need pulsed angrily between your legs, demanding satisfaction in full, but you didn’t dare feed into it. Even as the dream faded, its contents covered with the gauze of unconsciousness, you knew that it had been wrong. 

Being left wet and wanting wasn’t the worst thing. Even the sinking, sickening idea that you could dream about things you’d never previously considered before now wasn’t as bad as the loneliness. You hadn’t thought you were lonely before, you hadn’t considered that you would want to have a partner at this point in your life. But now you knew what it was to be without, and it was miserable. 

The sound of Mr. Dahlman’s office door opening and closing startled you into hastily shutting the notebook you’d been doodling in, realizing with a jolt of panic that you had been drawing the same familiar shapes and figures. 

“Did it go well?” you asked Yuri as he came around to the front. 

“It always does,” he responded with that heart-achingly handsome smile. “What about you? Don’t you get bored sitting in here all day?” 

“Maybe a little,” you told him. “But it’s a good job.” 

“Is it? Heh, well, one day, I’ll get you out of this stuffy office,” Yuri said playfully as he pulled his coat on. Fur, probably not real. Most likely designer, if the other brands you’d seem him flaunt were anything to go by. On most people, it would have looked gaudy, but Yuri wore it effortlessly. “Aelfric can’t keep you in here chained to this desk forever.” 

“I’m not chained to anything,” you said, your stomach sinking because something about that word felt uncomfortably familiar. 

“Haha,” Yuri said dryly, although he hadn’t stopped smiling. Would he still smile at you if he knew the images your brain conjured of him? The unspeakable things your fevered brain had imagined him doing? “You know what I mean.” 

“Maybe, but it’s not like I’m unhappy here,” you said. All that could possibly hope to rival the shame and disgust weighing down your heart like lead was the desire. That was the worst of all. You weren’t sure which was worse, the idea of him accepting your advances or rejecting them. Either way would land you in the same awful, sinful spot, give or take some humiliation. 

“We’ll see about that.” 

Your stomach clenched, your eyes turning down to avoid his because you swore you could combust if you had to look at that mischievous grin. “Have a nice day, Mr. Leclerc.” 

You could sense his frown, even if you didn't see it. “You too.”

It had been a slow day. Mr. Dahlman was out most of it, always running errands here and there. Things weren’t necessarily slowing down in general, but time had an awful tendency to drag on and on at a snails pace when you were in the office alone. 

If anything, a man entering the office unannounced with a welcome distraction. At first. 

“Can I help you, sir?” you asked. He was not someone you recognized, but that wasn’t alarming in and of itself. What did give you pause was the way he marched through the sleek glass door with a furrowed brow and a vein popping in his shiny forehead. Despite that look of rage, his appearance suggested a professional of some kind, wearing a nice suit with his hair slicked back. You got to your feet when you realized he intended to walk right past your desk, heart fluttering at his thunderous expression. “Sir? Can I help you?” 

“Is he here?” he asked, looking past you at Mr. Dahlman’s office. 

“No, Mr. Dahlman’s not in right now,” you said. “May I take a message?” 

The man exhaled heavily, practically exhaling steam through his nostrils. Tense seconds ticked by, they felt like hours. Eventually, he leveled his glare at you. 

“Yeah, tell that bastard he’ll get his fuckin’ money, but he’s going to have to wait for it.” He ran a hand over his hair. “I can’t give him what I haven’t got.” He leveled a single, ringed finger at you. “But if he releases it, he’ll get jack shit. You’ll tell him that?”

“I will,” you agreed quickly, nodding fast to appease him. The man huffed a few more times, looking at Mr. Dahlman’s office, before turning on his heel and leaving. You didn’t sit back down for some time, only realizing long after the fact that you should have called building security.  

That’s exactly what Mr. Dahlman told you as well, although he seemed almost entirely unphased by your censored version of the man’s message. He carried on normally throughout your stilted recounting, eventually sitting at his desk and looking at you over folded hands. 

“I’m sorry you had to experience that,” he told you with a sympathetic frown. He didn’t ask any questions, he didn’t inquire about the man’s appearance or offer any explanation. That felt wrong, somehow. His lack of reaction felt wrong. 

“It’s okay,” you told him, trying to believe him. “But… what happened? What was he talking about?” 

“It is unfortunate,” Mr. Dahlman said. “But, ultimately, unavoidable in my line of work that I should upset people.”

“But you’re not a criminal defense lawyer or anything,” you said. “I didn’t think people would get so angry.” 

“People are quick to anger whenever large sums of money are involved,” Mr. Dahlman told you seriously. 

You stared into his comforting eyes for a long moment before you nodded, accepting his explanation as fact. Being on edge was normal after experiencing something so uncomfortable, but Mr. Dahlman had never given you reason to doubt him. 

It occurred to you later that part of the nervous energy fizzling out your fingertips and making your mind race was because you wanted to tell someone about it, to talk to them, only to realize that there was no one. Nobody. You could tell your mom, but you didn’t want to worry her. Classes wouldn’t start for another few weeks, so you had no friends. Being so busy with work and living in a new place had left you painfully, abysmally isolated. 

There was only one person in the city you knew. Well, two, if you were willing to count your dream-conjured apparition. But going down that road was worse than the idea of talking to your family, and far more dangerous. 

“Sorry, I’m a bit… Out of sorts,” you said, ruffling through pages to figure out where you’d written down details of Mr. Dahlman’s schedule. 

“Have you been sleeping poorly?” Yuri asked. And it was a natural question, clearly without any ulterior motive, but you could physically feel blood drain away from your face with the blinding force of panic. “I know that I don’t sleep very well in the city,” he continued, ignorant of your reaction. “It’s never quiet. Not to mention the light pollution.” He paused, looking at you. “Where did you say you’re from?” 

Swallowing hard against a suddenly dry throat, you tried to compose yourself, finding the page you had been looking for and copying down the information with a shaky hand. “I don’t think I did, but I lived upstate. My family owns a ranch about an hour outside of Gideon.”

“You’re kidding,” Yuri said a smile in his voice. When you looked up at him with a frown, slightly confused and embarrassed for reasons you didn’t understand, he began laughing. 

“What?” you asked, far too defensive. 

“A plucky young woman escapes her small town family’s ranch to pursue her artistic dreams in the city,” he summarized. “It sounds like the plot of a bad movie.” 

You deliberated for a moment whether or not that should have upset you before decided that it didn’t. He wasn’t entirely wrong, either. “Okay, maybe it does,” you conceded, smiling sheepishly. “But if I’m the main character, what are you?”

“I’m far too beautiful to be anything other than a villain,” Yuri said, his head tossing back dramatically. 

That made you laugh, impressed by his confidence more than anything. Well, maybe a bit more than impressed, but you ignored that feeling. “That doesn’t even make any sense.” 

“Not yet,” he allowed. “Setting that all aside, I’m sure you had an excellent view of the stars growing up there." He sighed. "I think that’s what I miss the most.”

“You’re not from here?” 

“No,” Yuri said. “Believe it or not, I am a man of humble beginnings. From a place far, far away in a time long, long ago. But that’s a story for another time, I think.” 

“If you wanted to tell me, maybe we could finally go get that drink? Tonight? I’m off in a few,” you said, trying desperately to not sound so pathetically hopeful because that was way too embarrassing. But you were desperate. And you were pathetic. 

Yuri looked at you and, for the first time, you got the sense of a mask falling. What laid beneath was dark, and intimidating. He replaced it quickly, smiling. Slightly too sharp to be friendly, not lending any amusement to his eyes. “Sorry, I’m busy tonight. My time is in high demand.” 

You nodded, hating the way disappointment and embarrassment swelled up in your chest. Hating the fact that he would make something up rather than just be honest. “Ah, that’s fine. Have a good night, Mr. Leclerc.” 

“Yeah. You too.” 

Maybe it was just an expression of stress, of growing discomfort, through your subconscious. Maybe you had reached your wits end of pretending the threat of torment was enough to keep you from wanting more. Sin or no sin. Then again, overthinking dreams was the surest path to madness. That’s what your mom used to tell you. 

“The worst part is knowing that this is on purpose,” Yuri said, flipping you onto your stomach. You yelped, but Yuri seemed disinterested in your reaction, continuing to mutter to himself. He pushed your legs apart, planting his between. “He all but gift wrapped you for me and you don’t even know it. Like a little lamb, you can’t even conceptualize the danger you’re in.” 

“Yuri…” you said, confused. More than a little aroused by the suggestive position.

He let out a heavy breath, his arms winding around you from behind so he could palm your breasts, grinding against your ass. Being held like this was different from anything else he'd done, intensely physical because he was hard. You could feel Yuri's yearning, his desire. “I know what you want,” he muttered, amused again. The shift in tone was unnatural, but you followed along because you far preferred teasing and lustful to dark and annoyed. “I guess I want it too. Just a little.” 

“I just want you,” you whispered, shuddering when Yuri kissed your neck. So sweet in comparison to his teasing hands as they pinched your nipples, leaving you tense and wanting. “Please…” 

“Fine, but only because you asked so nicely,” Yuri allowed, pushing you down into the pillows. There was no coherency between moments, only that both of you were ready and when he finally—finally, finally—lined up his cock with your entrance, you felt everything else fall away. It might as well have never existed in the first place. 

Yuri took it slow, a result of his control and not your own. As soon as you felt the head of his cock press shallowly into your pussy, you realized with a red hot flare that you wanted more. All of it, all of him. He hissed out through his teeth as he slowly sank deeper, making you realize that you hadn’t been breathing the entire time. You didn’t until he was fully inside of you, your inner walls fluttering and squeezing in an attempt to adjust. 

“Do you still think I’m not real?” Yuri asked, pulling out just as slowly. You couldn’t articulate words, you couldn’t do much more than gasp, scrambling at the sheets as your brain shorted out with pleasure. The pressure was strange, but it was also right. Like you were meant for this, like this was the most natural thing in the world. 

“Yuri,” you sighed, moaning when he thrust back in. “I want to—” You wanted to see him, to hold him, to make this moment special because surely it was. How could something like this not be special? Groundbreaking, revolutionary. Feeling him inside of you was the most complete you’d ever felt, you felt very certain that was a fact. 

“Oh no you don’t,” Yuri said, grabbing your hips to pull you back down when you tried to twist around, keeping you in place beneath him. You whined, reduced down to a shuddering mess at how deep he went with each thrust, how hyper sensitized your cunt was to the drag of his cock. 

“I want to… to kiss you,” you said, admitting it aloud for the first time. Yuri just groaned, his fingernails digging into your hips as he pulled out slowly only to pull you back down. You could feel the way your pussy tightened around him as he did it again, your inner walls squeezing as if trying to suck him deeper, to keep him from pulling out. 

“It’s a nightmare, isn’t it?” Yuri asked, punctuating the softly spoken question with a hard thrust. The sound of skin slapping together was almost as filthy as the moan you let out in response. “To get what you want but not how you want it.” He laughed, although the sound quickly devolved into a groan. "I guess that makes you my nightmare."  

You shouldn’t have opened the document, you knew it wasn’t meant for your eyes. It wasn’t like you understood it, either.  Nor did you care. A list of names with attached numbers. Referencial material that wasn’t included. You didn’t care, you really didn’t. You weren’t the nosy type. But the numbers were so high. Money. Huge sums of money. 

Out of curiosity, you looked up one of the names, wondering if it had something to do with Mr. Dahlman’s practice. It wasn’t as if you handled most of the actual monetary transactions. But the person was a politician, it made no sense that he’d have anything to do with Mr. Dahlman’s firm. 

Something wasn’t right. You knew that in your gut. Something wasn’t right, and all you could think of was the man storming in and insisting that he would pay. 

Hands shaking, you deleted the document. It wasn’t meant for you anyway.  

Another busy day. You were returning to your desk with a caffeinated soda—the thing that passed for lunch—when you saw the glass door open with a whoosh, revealing a familiar face. 

“For you, m’lady,” Yuri said, placing a bouquet of roses on your desk. Their beautiful, vibrant red matched his shirt, pairing beautifully with the hair he’d left loose to drape over his shoulders. Considering the uncomfortable way he’d left the last time you saw him, you had no idea how to respond to the display.

“Mr. Leclerc,” you said. “Um… You shouldn’t have.” 

He laughed. “I didn’t. I passed a delivery man on the way up and thought I’d spare him the walk.”  

“Oh, right,” you said, flushing at the misunderstanding. “I’m sorry, Mr. Dahlman is out at lunch.” 

“Is he?” Yuri asked, although he didn’t look particularly surprised. “Guess I’ll have to come back later.” 

“If you wanted, I could take a message?” 

“And deprive me the pleasure of seeing you again?” he asked, raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow. You had no idea what to say to that, looking at him with a stupid expression as you tried to interpret some meaning other than a flirtatious one. Yuri smiled. “That said, it seems like I’ve got some competition.” He gestured to the flowers. “A secret admirer, perhaps?” 

You walked over to look at the attached note, knowing that he was wrong yet embarrassed that he'd say it. 

“Whoever he is, he must be in love with you.” There was a sharpness to the words, a meanness. “Why is it always roses, I wonder? They’re the flower of the unimaginative.”  

“I like roses,” you said, reading the attached card with a growing smile, your heart swelling with affection. “My mom sent them to cheer me up. Here-” You grabbed a rose from the bunch, intending to give it to Yuri, only to realize the thorns hadn’t been trimmed. “Ouch!” you exclaimed, dropping it onto the floor on instinct. 

“Careful,” Yuri said, approaching you, trampling the flower beneath his expensive shoe without any concern, grinding it into the clean white tile. “You’re bleeding—let me see.” 

You didn’t have time to draw away before he took your hand to admire the way blood formed little beads on your skin—the same color as the flowers that caused it. Although the slender hand holding your wrist wasn’t violent, it was steel nonetheless, keeping you from withdrawing your arm. As if it were perfectly natural, he licked up the blood from your fingers. Then he peeked up at you with his head bowed, violet eyes scorching beneath his thick eyelashes, and you couldn’t move. Enthralled by his eyes, by the tingling memory of his mouth, by the the intoxicatingly good scent of his cologne. 

“Beautiful things are often dangerous,” he said softly, his voice low. “I would think you’d have learned that by now.” 

“I don’t know what you mean,” you said softly, staring at him with equal parts fear and attraction. How could you not? Every single feature of Yuri’s seemed design to draw you in, to enthrall and enamor. Even with discomfort squeezing your heart like a vice, you couldn’t help it. 

He let your hand drop to grip your chin instead, lips that had just been smeared with your blood meeting your own, as soft as the petals of the rose he’d crushed underfoot. You squeaked in surprise, but your body relented to his without question. At this point, Yuri was familiar. The kiss filled you with this electric sort of heat, with a raging inferno of desire. Every dream you’d had about him drew to a crescendo, night after night of unfulfilled lust raging to the forefront. 

But not real Yuri, not in the workplace, not like this. 

“You don’t think I’m dangerous?” Yuri asked, spinning you around to push you onto your desk. With a little effort, he got you to spread your legs enough for him to wedge his hips between, your skirt riding up dangerously high. You barely thought to struggle, holding onto his shoulders so you didn’t fall. “Do you ever worry that my generosity will run out and I’ll demand some form of recompense for my patience? I’ve done everything I could to protect you so far, but even I have a limit.” 

“Yuri?” you asked, your voice breathy and confused. 

“But not yet,” Yuri said, his hand traveling from your waist and over your thigh, his fingers squeezing the flesh in a nearly possessive way. 

“I don’t-” 

Faint footsteps echoed down the hall, the telltale sound of someone approaching. Blind panic filled you at the idea of someone walking in on this. Whatever this was, you could only imagine how it would look. 

But you looked as the doors open with your heart racing in fear and a crease on your cheek from the edge of your appointment book that you had been using as a pillow on your desk, your back sore from the position. Sleeping. You had fallen asleep on your desk. 

“Good afternoon,” Mr. Dahlman said with a smile.

“Yes, good… Good afternoon,” you said, wiping at your mouth and smoothing your hair with the fear fading as you realized it had just been a dream. 

“Did someone send you roses?” he asked. You looked at the bouquet, shock striking through you coldly. It had been Yuri who brought those to the office, but that had been a dream. Hadn't it?

“Yeah, my… my mom,” you said, checking the note to make sure. To cheer you up, the note said, just as it had in the dream.   

“That was kind of her,” Mr. Dahlman said, circling your desk to go to his office. 

“It… It was.” 

Mr. Dahlman paused, hanging in the doorway to his office and looking at you with a surprisingly severe expression. “You didn’t happen to receive an email earlier, did you? It would have been blank with an attached document. Do you recall anything like that?”

Your heart sunk, a fresh type of fear and anxiety filling you for reasons you didn’t want to think about. “I didn’t,” you lied. “But I could check my spam folder-”

“No,” Mr. Dahlman said, smiling warmly. “It’s not important. Please let me know when my three o’clock arrives.”

“Ye-yes, of course, Mr. Dahlman.”  

Despite the lack of dreams, you were more tired than ever. Frayed and sad and lonely. Those were the excuses you clung to, but you knew you shouldn’t have been listening to a private conversation of Mr. Dahlman’s. He hadn’t properly hung up his office phone and you were just so curious. It wasn’t like you had anything else to occupy you. Another excuse. 

But it was wrong. What he was doing was wrong and bad and illegal and maybe you were an airhead and maybe you were a fool but Mr. Dahlman was supposed to be a good man. A man of Seiros, of the goddess.  

“You were listening, were you not?” Mr. Dahlman asked, staring at you from behind his desk, his eyes just as warm and gentle as ever. Your stomach twisted, a dizzy sensation in your head. 

“That was blackmail,” you said. “You’re blackmailing people, that’s what was on the document.”

“I thought you were lying about that, although it hardly matters. You should be careful of making such accusations,” Mr. Dahlman warned lightly. “They could land you in a great deal of trouble.” 

“But you’re…” you sputtered, barely recognizing the insult. “You can’t do this, it’s… it’s wrong, an-and illegal.” 

“Please, calm down,” Mr. Dahlman told you. “And keep in mind the non-disclosure agreement you signed when you started work here. I fear there would be grave consequences were to you to begin spreading falsehoods about me and my work, least of all with the Church that helped to support you.”

Grave consequences. You stared at him with wide, wet eyes, terror working its steady, brutal rush through your veins. Mr. Dahlman stood up to approach you. Instead of moving, you just watched as if in slow motion as he put a hand on your shoulder. You didn’t move, you barely dared to breathe. 

“For your own sake, I ask that you consider what you intend to do next very carefully. Take tomorrow to think about your future. Should you do the right thing, I’ll see you on Monday,” he told you gently. His hand tightened. Not painfully, but enough. “Should you not… Well, I shall pray that you do.” 

You swallowed hard. “I understand.” 

“Good,” Mr. Dahlman said, smiling kindly and releasing you. “I do encourage you to be careful. The city can hold many dangers for a girl such as yourself.”  

What sort of cruel joke did the universe play on you to run into Yuri Leclerc as soon as you were out of the office building? Literally run into him, spilling your cold coffee from that morning all over yourself and toppling onto the ground. From your spot at his feet, you saw his shock become recognition become worry. 

“Are you alright?” Yuri asked. Helping you up. Not even for the first time. How humiliating. 

“I’m so sorry,” you said, picking up your stuff with your face turned downward to hide from him. “Mr-Mr. Dahlman is still in the office, but you’ll have to hurry if you want… want to catch him.” 

“You’ve been crying,” Yuri said, pulling you out of the line of foot traffic. You let him. A little crease had formed between his perfect eyebrows as he looked at you, and it made your heart ache. 

“I’m fine,” you said with a pathetic sniff, wiping your face. Everything was covered in old coffee. You’d have to go on the bus like this, and then you’d be home. And you’d be alone. And Mr. Dahlman had warned you of the dangers of the city. He knew better than anyone else in the world how intimately isolated you were, he knew where you lived and who you knew and there was no escape. 

“You’re going home, yeah? You can’t take the bus like this,” Yuri said, unaware of your spiraling thoughts. “Let me get a cab to take you home.”

You were already shaking your head too fast, rejecting the idea with the violence of fear. “I can’t go home.” 

He hesitated. “You can’t intend to go out like this.” 

“No, I-I can’t. I’m—”

Yuri frowned. “What are you doing then?” 

“Nothing. I’m sorry,” you said, shaking your head. “It’s not your problem, I-” 

“Shut up for a second,” he told you, waving a hand to cut you off. “Why don’t you come back to my place? I can make you dinner. I’ve been told I’m a fantastic cook.” 

Your breath hitched. “I couldn’t.” 

“Afraid of being alone with a man?” Yuri asked knowingly. “Well rest assured, you’re safe with me.” Was that what you were afraid of? Yuri had never been anything but a perfect gentleman to you, deplorable dreams notwithstanding. If anything, he was the victim of your own twisted mind. 

Another pathetic sniff. “If it’s alright with you, then… I’d love to.”  

“Thank you so much for this,” you said softly, wiping down a hot, clean plate after he handed it to you. The shockingly domestic act of washing dishes together had done a lot to ease your nerves, somehow. It was just so normal, so mundane. 

“This was my pleasure,” he said, shooting you a sideways smile. “It’s not often I get to cook for people anymore.” 

“No, I mean… Well, thank you for everything,” you told him, your voice relaxed now. You had been so tense when he let you into his apartment, teetering on the edge of tears and covered in coffee and uncomfortable enough to crawl out of your own skin. But wearing a clean pair of clothes—his clothes, which you tried not to think too hard about—and eating a hot meal had eased a lot of that tension. Besides, you were getting tired. The day had been stressful, and the hour was hitting hard. “Is that all?” you asked, gesturing to the dishes. 

Yuri shut off the water, taking the dish towel from you to dry his hands. “Yep. Do you want to sit down? I don’t have much in the way of dessert, but I do have some Baileys.”

“I don’t know what that is.” 

“This’ll be a fun surprise then,” he said, going to the refrigerator. You stayed put, uncertainly shifting from foot to foot. But, this was what people did, wasn’t it? With friends. Even alarmingly, devastatingly handsome friends. And you didn’t want to be alone. 

You went back out into the living area, taking a seat on the couch. The whole place was nice, but sterile. Like a hotel, almost. Unlived in. Yuri followed a moment later, holding two glasses filled with a creamy liquid and a bottle tucked under his arm. 

“Here,” he said, handing you one of the glasses. 

“Is it alcohol?” you asked hesitantly, looking at it.

“It’s sweet,” he said, sitting across from you. “And it’s barely alcoholic, if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

You thought about arguing further, but you trusted Yuri. Besides, if there was ever a time to drink, it was now. 

“Thank you,” you said.

To your surprise, it was sweet. There was some burn, but not much. 

Yuri smiled, licking the liquor from his lips. “See?” 

“Thank you,” you said again, forcing yourself to look back down to keep from staring at his mouth. Even now, you couldn’t force yourself to think normal thoughts. 

He poured you more, and this time you drank it without question because you knew what was coming and you wanted a little more of that buzz to face it. 

“Now… I hate to pry into your affairs,” Yuri ventured, “but I have to ask-”

“I signed a waver,” you told him, staring at your empty glass. “I can’t tell anyone.”

“So this has to do with the firm.” 

You looked up, eyes wide. “No, it-” 

“Hey, don’t worry. If anyone’s good at keeping secrets, it’s me. More than that, I’d like to help if I can. Against my better judgment, I like you.” Yuri paused, wearing a look of uncertainty, as if admitting something unpleasant.  “Quite a bit, actually. I certainly wouldn’t want any harm to come to you.” 

The admission made your heart race in a way that had nothing to do with the alcohol, although you weren’t sure it was a good feeling. As with everything you associated with Yuri, it felt wrong. Deeply, truly unnatural. 

“Hey, can I have more?” You held up your empty glass towards him hopefully. 

“Sure,” Yuri said, pouring you more with a smooth twist of his wrist. How could somebody make pouring a drink look attractive? It was unfair. 

You drank quickly, more intent on the buzz of inebriation than the taste. Then, staring at the last few drops lingering in the glass, you forced the words out before you could consider them too intently. “Mr. Dahlman is… He… He blackmails people,” you said, getting it out all at once. “I found out and confronted him-”

“Why the hell would you do that?” Yuri asked, more incredulous than shocked.

“I thought he was a good man,” you told him, your face falling. 

Yuri snorted. “The only virtuous lawyer in town, huh? Well, I can’t blame you for that, he fools a lot of people.” 

“So you knew?” you asked. 

“More importantly,” Yuri said, “did he threaten you?” 

Your breath hiccuped. “Not directly, but…” You shook your head, trying to forget that look in his eye. “Do you think he’d hurt me?” you asked in a small voice. 

“No, he won’t,” Yuri said, gently taking your glass and placing his hand on yours. His skin was warm and soft, the gesture heart-achingly innocent. 

You wondered if you were actually dreaming. Part of it was the alcohol setting in, the warm little blaze blurring your thoughts. No matter how low the alcohol content, you didn’t drink often enough to have any sort of tolerance. More than that, you were tired. Maybe this was another despicable conjuration of your brain, maybe it was going to take a sharp turn and you’d end up on the counter, or against the wall, or on the couch in the other room, or-

“That’s why he pays men me,” Yuri told you, his expression flattening. Blinking sluggishly, the threatening words struck you discordantly, distantly. You tried to pull your hand away, but Yuri clasped it tightly in his own. “Normally I like to have a bit of fun and then move on, no harm done,” he continued, ignoring your confused attempts to escape him. “But that’s not an option anymore.” He sighed. “It always falls on me to take care of things.” 

“Yuri, you’re scaring me.” 

“I don’t think its even dawned on you that I’ve been lying the entire time. You’re too trusting.” He paused, smirking ironically. “It’ll get you hurt one of these days.” 

“Please let me go,” you asked. Your words were slurring a little, the slowly settling exhaustion and alcohol distancing you from reality. 

A dream. You had to be dreaming. 

“But I see no reason to keep it up now, it’s not like you’ll remember this,” Yuri said. “It’s true that I offer unique services. Very unique. Aelfric and I have a good thing going. I extract secrets from the pliant subconsciousness of the rich and famous; he uses his connections to properly utilize them. For now, at least. If it makes you feel any better, I intend to put an end to our arrangement as soon as I can. Sooner, with your help.” 

“You’re joking, aren’t you?” you asked, although the urgency was ruined by the encroaching wilt of exhaustion. Unlike being drunk, the world becoming vibrant and your skin buzzing, it was as if your body itself was shutting down around you. “This is… is insane, I don’t understand.” 

“Think a little, yeah?” Yuri prompted, giving you a familiarly condescending look. “Haven’t you noticed that something’s wrong here? Like having nightly dreams of a strange and sinful nature about a certain someone?” You couldn’t help your shocked intake of breath, the immediate shame that filled you. “Yeah, I know all about those. You might say that I am intimately familiar with them. After all, I am the one who put them there.”

Over and over, you blinked to try and wake yourself up. But the disgust and the fear and the shame weren’t enough to keep you focused, the world was fading and dark on the edges, your chest caving in with heaviness. Breathing alone became a tiresome task, let alone holding yourself up. 

“Did you… drug me…?” you asked. It seemed so obvious now that you were becoming consumed with the heaviness. Fighting against the pull of unconsciousness physically hurt. 

“Our nighttime escapes aren’t over just yet, I still need you. In more ways than one,” Yuri said, moving even closer to catch you from slumping over when you tried to get up. You grunted, squirming to escape, but it was a pitiful display. He smelled so nice. You didn’t want to fight, not really. “To think, Aelfric thought he could bait me into compliance. But, as always, luck is on my side, and I’ve always got another trick up my sleeve. He should have considered the wisdom of giving me a girl so susceptible to persuasion.” 

You grumbled something, your words stifled by the exhaustion and his chest. It probably had been incomprehensible in the first place. 

“Let’s get you tucked in,” Yuri said, supporting most of your weight as he helped you up. “Your work isn’t quite finished.” You could barely resist, not that you were trying. He smelled so good, sweet and fresh and intoxicating. You nuzzled your cheek against the front of his shirt, your skin buzzing with it. 

And then you fell asleep.

“Rise and shine, sleepyhead,” were not the words you expected to wake up to. You didn’t expect to be woken up by words at all, considering you lived alone. But soon after you recognized that you were being spoken to, you realized that you were not in your own bed. Panic set in then, and your eyes snapped open, getting a blurry view of a purple and white smudge. 

“Ngh—ah!” was your eloquent response, and you tried to sit up only for gravity to push you back down. Your vision cleared and you realized that the smudge was a person. A familiar person. “Mr. Leclerc,” you said, meaning it as an exclamation but unable to find the energy. 

“Now that you’ve spent the night in my bed, I think you’ve more than earned the right to call me Yuri,” he said, smiling. 

“Your bed?” you asked looking around. The room was a tidy sort of mess, filled with books and clothes and other clutter. A fur coat thrown over a chair, a pair of shiny white spiked Chelsea boots. This was Yuri’s room, his real room and not a dreamscape domain of twilight and stars. This was real. “What happened?” you asked, more than a little afraid of the answer. Your head felt heavy, your body filled with lead. You remembered very little. Leaving work crying, quite literally running into Yuri, coming to his apartment. 

“You had a bad day at work yesterday, so I invited you over for dinner and drinks,” Yuri told you sympathetically, sitting on the by your knees and handing over a bottle of water. You didn’t feel thirsty, and your head didn’t really ache. More than anything, you just felt heavy. Sluggish. But you drank anyway, hoping it would chase away the sour taste on your tongue. “You’re a real lightweight, you know that?” he continued. “I had no idea how drunk you were until you were already passed out.”

“Did we…” you couldn’t so much as finish the question. 

“If something happened between us, you would remember it,” Yuri told you bluntly. “Trust me.”

That made you flush. It was fairly obvious. You were still wearing the clothes he’d given you last night, and the other side of the bed looked like it hadn’t been slept in. If there was ever any memory you would retain, you felt certain it would be having sex with Yuri Leclerc outside of your twisted subconcious. More than that, you’d have to assume in that case that he would ever want you in real life, and that was ridiculous. 

“I am so sorry,” you said, embarrassment clouding your discomfort. Yuri patted your head, smoothing out your hair. You didn’t need a mirror to know that you looked, felt, and likely smelled like someone who had been crying and gotten wasted the night before, and he had the gall to look as handsome as ever. 

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Yuri told you. “You told me what Aelfric’s been doing, and I promised to help you. Do you remember that much at least?” 

Yes. Mr. Dahlman had been committing malpractice, scamming people out of their land for cheap development. Something like that. Your stomach sank sickeningly. There was something more, wasn’t there? “Yeah. But I—I feel like I’m forgetting something,” you said slowly, frowning in confusion at the blankets to avoid his eyes. 

“That’s my fault. I should have known you weren’t used to drinking,” he said regretfully. 

“No,” you told him quickly, looking up with a lurch of guilt. “It’s not your fault, I should have…” You couldn’t remember last night, but when you met his eyes, you remembered every other night your brain had manufactured with him in the starring role. Every fantasy, every sin. “I should go.” 

“Oh no you don’t,” Yuri told you. You breathed in sharply, the harshness of his words making you tense up. But when you looked at him, Yuri just smiled. “Stay a while, yeah? I’ll make it more than worth your while.”

#yuri leclerc #yuri leclerc x reader #fe yuri #fe yuri x reader #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem three hopes #not sfw #my writing #tw.dubcon

[claudemblems]

thx for answering my apology post lol! Is it possible if I could choose for the request yuri picking her up request that I sent between the 2? I don't know if u remember the one specifically!

No worries! I’m always happy to get a request for Yuri 🥺 I miss him sm I really need to play through more of Three Hopes lol

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Sweep Me Off My Feet | Yuri Leclerc Headcanons

Summary: Fluff headcanons of Post Timeskip!Yuri with Reader who loves being picked up, spun around, and carried princess style by him

Notes: I did add just a twinge bit of spice but I felt like it fit with the theme of the request. Nothing too crazy tho! I hope that's all right :) Also this is very long but I'm sure that's not a surprise at this point

Yuri’s not really someone that likes to show affection out in the open. There’s too many eyes on him and, as the boss of Abyss, he has to be alert at all times. But mainly he’s just shy (don’t be fooled by his flirty persona). However, if you truly insist for him to dote on you, he can’t possibly refuse you.

That being said, he does like to save romantic gestures for times such as celebration. He will absolutely pick you up after winning a battle, spinning you around with a relieved grin on his face. What can he say? Few things make him happier than knowing he’s kept the people he loves safe. 

And at night time, you’ve noticed that he tends to be more clingy. Perhaps it’s the tiredness talking, or maybe it’s because he doesn’t have to worry about watchful eyes around every corner. But that’s usually when he’ll pick you up by the waist and set you on his lap, silently burying his head into the crook of your neck. He’s just so precious. 

He also loves picking you up princess style as much as you do. You joke about him being your knight in shining armor, leaving him playfully rolling his eyes at you. But he does get satisfaction in knowing that you see him as your protector. He’ll swear an oath to you if you have any doubts. 

The affection he gives you increases tenfold after the two of you have married. He practically won’t let your feet touch the ground after your wedding night. It’s the perfect chance for him to lavish you in love, so let him enjoy it as much as he can. 

Or when it’s just the two of you alone at night, perhaps in the old Ashen Wolves classroom or in a dimly lit hallway in Abyss, clinging onto each other and sharing passionate kisses, he’ll get this unmistakable mischievous glint in his eyes. Next thing you know, he’s swept you off your feet, carrying you to his room. Don’t worry. He’ll make sure you know just how loved and cherished you are by morning.

He just likes to have you all to himself. Sometimes he doesn’t initiate romantic gestures in public not because he’s shy, but because he's incredibly jealous. He won’t tell you that, but it’s not hard to put the pieces together. 

Though Yuri’s more inclined to be lovey with you if it’s just the Ashen Wolves around. He’ll pull you onto his lap, lock his fingers with yours, or even pick you up by the waist to help you reach something. Sure, he could just get it for you, but you look so determined and he may or may not like taking every chance he gets to feel your touch. It often leaves Hapi and Constance audibly groaning or Balthus sending teasing jokes his way, but seeing the smile on your face is all that matters.

Yuri may not show it outwardly, but he really is a hopeless romantic. Ask him for anything and he’ll give it to you without hesitation. Best of all, he will never grow tired of doing things that make you happy. As long as you’re safe and smiling, what more could he ask for?

With you by his side, he has everything he needs. 

#claudemblems writes #fe3h #fe3h x reader #yuri leclerc #yuri x reader #fire emblem #fire emblem x reader #three houses x reader

[sothisblessmysoul]

༓ʚ Perfect Roommate ɞ༓

Summary: Yuri as a roommate in general, as a platonic roommate and as a romantic roommate,

[ General ] Yuri as a roommate is an odd experience because he barely lets you know anything about him aside from what he has shown you. Yuri is fashionable and has a small group of friends, and is such a late-night owl that when he greets you in the morning is the time Yuri is going to bed as you get up.

He is strict as a roommate. Chores are divided but if someone makes a mess they have to clean it up regardless if it is on their chore list. No parties in the shared apartment because Yuri doesn’t trust people to not go through his room although he is fine with going to parties in other places. 

But the major rule is that neither of you is allowed to involve yourself in the other’s personal life unless invited. The only time that it’s allowed is if you or he is bringing someone over and you text each other to let the other know.

Once the two of you are closer and hang out, it will have to be in the afternoon as anything earlier makes Yuri want to die. You have to remember Yuri is a night owl through and through. As such becoming closer, you meet Yuri’s friends and spend time with them whenever invited along. It’s at this point that Yuri is bringing you more into his own private life.

[ Platonic ] Originally Yuri didn’t let you in his bedroom, but after time together, Yuri started to leave his door open whenever he was awake as a silent invitation to let you know that you’re welcome. However, Yuri rarely hangs out in your bedroom less directly asked to come into your room which results in a laugh.

If there are days or nights when neither of you nor Yuri want to be alone, often both of you will hang out in the living room with some background white noise. Most times the white noise is a boring movie or TV show that plays in the background as you talk to each other long into the night.

On the subject of movies, every Sunday has become the official movie and game night tradition. It started due to being snowed in on a bad snowstorm in December late Sunday afternoon, trapping Yuri with you. Neither can remember who suggested movies and games but it had been the only way to pass the time. It had been so enjoyable that it became a weekend night routine.

If neither of you is in the mood for movies, board games are the other pick. Typically Uno or Go-fish as the default choices because those are Yuri's favorite. Partly due to your reactions being hilarious to him.

[ Romantic ] On very late nights beyond your typical sleep time for one reason or another, Yuri keeps you company. Those very late nights are when he is most open with you. The first night it happened you had accidentally fallen asleep only to wake up with a blanket placed over you that was not there before.

Whenever it happened again, as it tended to, the blanket Yuri put on you would end up being replaced by his jacket. If you say something first, Yuri will never pay attention to his actions.

It's unknown to you but some of Yuri's friends will tease or make jokes about his behavior about how you get special treatment. With movie nights, how Yuri remembers what you like and dislikes, and that he had given you his favorite jacket. Yuri will roll his eyes and lie about how it’s not that deep, but a soft smile that Yuri tries to hide will show up on days whenever he catches sight of you wearing the jacket.

When the time comes for Yuri to act on his feelings it’s hard for you to tell because he didn’t behave too differently as before. Granted the choice of flirtatious phrases would normally give it away if Yuri didn’t subconsciously treat you the same as before.

Yuri’s not aware how he had acted previously with the kind actions, the affectionate way Yuri talked to you nor his gentle touches brushing against your skin. Part of it is frustrating yet still amusing by the fact you hadn’t caught on.

#i might have gone crazy with this #yuri x reader #fe3h imagines #fe3h reader #fe3h yuri #ashen wolves imagine #fire emblem three houses imagines #fe3h headcanons

[rekas-writes]

Blurring Happiness

Pair: Modern + A/B/O AU! Alpha! Yuri Leclerc/M! Omega! Reader Source: Fire Emblem: Three Houses/Fire Emblem: Three Hopes

Type: Drabble - 899 words Genre: Semi-Graphic Smut/NSFT(W)/18+, Angst, Hurt/No Comfort Perspective: Second-Person (You/Your)

Summary: Yuri is the water the quenches the flames and the fan that stokes them ever higher. Or: Suppressed romantic feelings start to catch up as this friends with benefits situation dips into a bittersweet aftertaste

TW: None

Kinks: A/B/O or Omegaverse

Terms Used for Reader: Cock, Hole

A/N: Decided to convert one of the fics I made during my month without Wi-Fi into a reader-insert! This is rather self-indulgent since ABO is a massive weakness for me- It's a little short since I don't like writing long pieces on my phone, but I thought some folks might like it! I also think it's a travesty I haven't written anything for FE:3H at all on this blog, so here's a Yuri fic because I think he's neat! I'm also spiralling into my Fire Emblem hyperfixation again since I bought Three Hopes recently. I know I'm late- ;-;

✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

It’s a blur, simply put.

This whole, strange relationship is a blur.

It’s touches on skin at night, only ever at night- when the Goddess could not see beyond the thick fog, with only mist-filtered moonlight faintly lighting patches of hair and wrinkled clothes. The reflections dance upon exposed skin and floats high on breathy calls and sighs. The highs sing like angels in the dim of night, and those tingly, pleasant feelings bloom like delicate flowers upon your sullied flesh. 'Heavenly', you think vaguely to yourself, before the guilt and scorn of feeling unworthy settles in the afterglow.

It’s hot and cold. Unrelenting heat boils beneath your skin and sighs like steam at his touch, and for just a moment- you're complete. Like the final stroke of a brush against a littered canvas. Entangled as one, it feels like sweet relief that calms the burning inferno inside for just a few minutes. The kettle cools and it’s like the sip of fresh lemonade on a summer’s day, and you're parched beyond belief... But all too soon that euphoria slips away and it’s so hot- too hot again. There’s an aching itch that burns like an addiction, and no matter how much you scratch- it never stops. There is no respite. This heat, this supposed "cycle", only sleeps for what feels like a few minutes. There is no cycle, only a merciless craving that digs its cursed fangs deep into your biology.

It’s a deep-set ache. When you roll to your side, Yuri is gone. Like the whispers of the wind, he’s temporary and loose like grains of sand. A fleeting pleasure, like the haze of a debauched party you can't remember anymore. The only "mark" of his presence is the phantom touches upon your skin. The sickening warmth pooling already in your gut once again that yearns for more, but just a little quieter than usual. When you breath in hard, like the shaky exhale before a sob, you regret it. It reeks of your antidote. Your medicine. An Alpha. It smells like him. Instead, you take a shallower breath; one that strains to calm the throbbing in your chest.

That relief seldom stays, yet the relationship remains all the same.

You would be a fool not to know this wasn't good for you anymore. That this was hurting you. You don't know how much longer you can last, staring into soft, purple eyes that remain guarded even in such a vulnerable position. It's so hollow. That smile. Those sweet nothings. The gentle touch caressing down your body with the mannerism of a lover, but the method of a stranger. It's so painfully empty.

But when Yuri rolls his hips, those thoughts fuzz and blur. Your brain can't think straight when he touches you with such precision and practiced ease that almost made your chest hurt- if you tried to think about it too hard. Stirring up your insides only numbs your head more, body arching into Yuri’s as his tongue laps at yours. It tastes so sweet to be consumed by him, as you lick desperately at his lip to get him to do it again. To consume the rest of your thoughts and drag you further into the abyss. There's this satisfying ache that heat suppressants can’t provide. That being alone can't provide.

In the grand scheme of things, who were you to ask for more in this? You are an omega. Yuri is an alpha. It was only natural you would feel drawn to him. Those desperate, intrusive feelings- that unerring need to be loved by him- they're nothing more than the cruel urge to be fucked until you couldn't think anymore. He didn't even need to help you, but he does. That... That's good enough.

It’s lonely. It’s scary. It’s feverishly cold. It’s bitingly hot.

You curl into yourself, panting beneath the covers as you call a name you don't quite realise you did. You don't know why you did it when it finally registers. As a new presence paces quickly across your room's floor, you can only cry for that name again- borderline pain flickering through your heightened nerves.

Lavender. It smells like lavender and honeyed fruit; it's overwhelming yet comforting. It spins your head pleasantly, in a way that makes you whimper that name again. More slick runs down your leg as arousal spikes deep in your core despite your confusion. Your hand reaches below your waistband, needing to feel something now you decide, as you paw at your already hard cock and slide your hand down to feel the wet trails running down your thighs.

Ah…

You need him again.

When that blur of purple embraces you again, those loud, frightening, confusing feelings dampen. You can ignore your problems as you cling on to him- pulling him as close as possible, listening only to the sound of Yuri mumbling your name. Hands gently push your own away, electrifying your senses as he thumbs at your tip. Simmering in his touch, you gasp and groan when he spreads your hole open with long, dextrous fingers- delicate yet teasing. It’s so easy to lose yourself when he looks at you so kindly like that. When he talks to you so sweetly like that. When he holds you so tenderly like that. Even if it's all fake, in the maddening pit of engulfing heat and heady lust, it’s so easy to pretend that even for just a moment…

You are his.

#fire emblem: three houses #FE3H #yuri x reader #yuri leclerc x reader #x male reader #x trans male reader #x ftm reader #x m reader #yuri leclerc #fe3h fic #fe3h fanfic #Fire Emblem Three Houses #fe3houses #three houses #fe yuri

[marahuyos]

anon asked: If you don't mind, thoughts on Henry or Yuri with a childhood friend reader (I don't recall if you said any limits on fe games or if you cover the Ashen wolves dlc)

henry (fea) x gn!reader

yuri (fe3h) x gn!reader

mara’s words: deadass i forgot who henry was until i looked it up and i was like “oh, that guy.”

tw: henry (but to be more specific: human dismemberment, arson), possessiveness (yuri)

✧ Henry

• You two were part of the magic institution that your parents’ ‘lovingly’ enrolled you in. It was personal hell for you, the grown-ups always dogging on the kids as if they were worth less than dirt and giving absolute no empathy at all. The magic classes were fine and all but with the abuse going on inside, you could only keep your rage-filled magic within.

• And so you meet Henry, another poor unfortunate soul who he managed to set himself on fire and yet no one bothered to help him (lest they be punished). It was only by the dead of night that you snuck towards his bedside and gave him a small portion of a tangerine.

“It’s the only thing I managed to pilfer.” You said to him softly, in the dead of night. “I... I hope this makes you feel better.”

• If only you knew how far your kindness went. When you awoke to the stench of blood and rotting flesh, it was the white-haired boy who had a tangerine in his (bloody) hand. When he extended it to you, a manic smile was on his face as his eyes closed.

• Your abusers were dead. And as a child, with no other guide in their life, you took the tangerine and bit into it.

• It wasn’t long that you and Henry became travel partners. Well, ‘partners’ is more of an understatement. It felt as though you were the only one who truly understood Henry. You didn’t bat an eye at the mayhem he caused, rather letting him do as he please all the while reeling him in when need be. 

• Even when assigned into the Plegian army, you two are always together. At least, always within what Henry wants. Validar himself doesn’t even want to step in between whatever Henry wants in fear of invoking what hidden horrors that Henry hides from the world. If Validar fears going between you and Henry, then it comes as to no surprise that the rest of the Plegian army avoids going between you two.

• Despite the gore that Henry would always surround himself, he would never bring himself to taint you with this mess. After all, you did save him from going hungry that night after all, and he always remembers who he’s indebted to.

• At least that’s what he says. When he grasps your hand a little too warmly just to swing it around as if you two were kids frolicking about a garden of deteriorating Risen bodies, you wonder if the smile on his face was anything but manic glee.

✧ Yuri

• Street rats growing up, you, your family, and Yuri’s mother, were very well-acquainted. After all, rats stick together to see what slim hope of living they have under all of this grime. Resources were scarce but you were surviving.

• You and Yuri, even though you were young, grew too soon too fast as you pilfered money and precious objects from unsuspecting nobles and rich folk and always splitting the money 50/50. At some point it grew to 60/40, with you pushing the 60 towards Yuri because you knew that he and his mother needed it more than you. Normally, Yuri would take it with no qualms but with you, he still insists on the 50/50.

• After all, he would be remiss to take more of the keep from his partner in crime.

• As the years go by, you and Yuri are attached to the hip as practical underground crime lords (at least in the Abyss). Him as the Savage Mockingbird, always getting what he wants, and you as his partner who works with him in his shadow. None would dare to try and outsmart the mockingbird lest they deal with his shadow instead.

• Yuri doesn’t trust anyone, not even the rest of the Ashen Wolves, but to you, there was a smidgen of humanity left within this rat-turned-bird. When he would willingly betray his allies trust on the whim (as long as the end justifies the means), he would never betray your trust. Anyone who even suggest to sacrifice you or use you as bait will be thrown into the deeper bowels of the Abyss.

“I am not one for romantics. But I will not let anyone toy with your life.”

• Even after being exposed in Garreg Mach, he never let’s you out of his sight. He nearly begs Byleth to make sure you and him were always in the same classes and making sure you two were fighting in the same battalions. Other students wondered if there was something else beyond your “childhood friendship” because of how... for a lack of a better word, fruity, behavior that Yuri shows to you but they could never get a straight answer from him.

• Let them talk, he thinks to himself as he counts you and your pilfered treasures (hey, old habits die hard). After all, you were far more important to be kept in a notebook. He’s kept your name in a scrap of paper, inside a locket, tucked closely beneath his clothes and close to his heart.

#fe #fire emblem #fire emblem awakening #fea imagines #fire emblem three houses #fe3h imagines #henry #henry x reader #henry imagines #yuri #yuri x reader #yuri imagines

[owlespresso]

gloaming. yuri leclerc.

tags: fem!reader, reader has a personality and vague hints of backstory, sfw, pining

a/n: this is pretty self-indulgent. just fluff.

The night is quiet. Snow-covered fields stretch around you on all sides, leading to a distant tree line full of old, stubborn pines. The winter’s frost has grabbed tight hold of the land, blighting everything above the snow in a fine coating of frost. You can see your breath, like a brief curl of dragon’s smoke right in front of you.

One of the month’s many virtues is its distinct lack of insects. No crickets to chirp and no mosquitos to menace any patch of skin you dare leave uncovered. Not that you’ll have many in this weather. There’s quite a long way to go before winter ebbs into early spring. The patch of land Dimitri allotted you so generously after war’s end will remain in crystalline stasis until the season's turn. 

In the distance, over the hills, you can see Fhirdiad’s towering silhouette. Its rough lines and pointed domes and salient spires cast an imperious picture on your east horizon. Did the people of the capital enjoy tonight’s midwinter festival? Did friends and family rush onto the crowded streets to partake in merriment and games and fantastic feasts? The streets played host to an astounding variety of breathtaking ice sculptures all around the noble districts. You wonder if any happened to feature the king.

You look away, back to the treetops painted frosty white, glistening in the eldritch dark of the night. The stone building you’ve chosen to occupy was once a manor and a military outpost, created to overlook these very vistas. The honorable members of House Rowe often utilized it to rest their heads when too exhausted too plod back to their hillside manners out west, leaving their gilded, cushioned carriages to wait in the front yard all evening. Heavens forbid they struggle for even a moment with a minor chill.

You shut your eyes and drink deep the wintry air. The icy sting in the air is sobering, granting you clarity. Dinner was spent alone, enjoying more mixes of wines and liquors than you would prefer to admit. Sometime along the way, you even attempted to wrangle the guards into drinking alongside you. It was at that point that one of them politely inquired if you would like to take a walk.

And now, the fresh air pricks at your numbing cheeks. The hazy remnants of your late night rendezvous with the liquor cabinet are battered back by winter’s embrace and your own irritation.

Across the countless times you have imbibed in your short life, you have discovered that being drunk is fun until it is decidedly not. It’s fun until you require your motor skills, fun until your stream of consciousness rolls into a riptide loosening the leash you keep wrapped ‘round your emotions. The festivities are long over. You're not even sure what occasion they had been celebrating. All of these winter festivals blend together after the first three.

You slump over the flat stone of the wall, bent at the waist. Your fingers don’t even reach the edge. Faint footsteps scruff across the old stone behind her. Quiet, but purposefully loud enough for you to hear. That alone tells you who dares approach.

“Do you believe in god, Yuri?” your ragged voice sounds unfamiliar to yourself. You don't budge from your prone position. The stone cools the overheated side of your face, seeps through your layers. You can feel the wild thrum of your heart begin to slow, cooling the agonizing sear of you pumping blood.

“I believe that it’s long past your bedtime,” Yuri says, a broken piece of glass crunching under his heel. “And I believe in the Goddess. How could I not when she blessed me with you?” The mocking drawl in his voice forces the corners of your lips into a deep frown.

He’s not going to leave, anytime soon, so you slide back onto your feet. The sudden change in position has you swaying on your feet, foot stumbling out of place. Before you can take a tumble and make even more of a fool of yourself, Yuri grasps your shoulder, touch grounding. You regard him with as blank a stare as you can manage. Despite the lashing winds and otherwise unpleasant conditions, Yuri is unflappable as always, long locks of lavender laid atop his shoulder. He’s traded his cape in for a dark cloak, sticked lines of embroidery lacing the cuffs and bottom of the garment, dance around its bone white buttons. 

He’s still all purples and reds, but the smokey greys you’ve come to associate with his wardrobe have been traded in for darker shades. And he looks good, like he hasn’t lost a night of sleep in his life.

“Can’t sleep,” you mutter, kicking a nearby pebble. It’s sent skittering under a nearby table. Yuri regards you flatly, lips pressed into a thin, straight line—as thin as his petal plump lips can press, anyways. They’re coated in a subtle shade of pink, tonight, just blush enough to look natural. He rarely ever applies any intense, saturated shades of lipstick or gloss, lest it distract from the keen smolder of his eyes and his natural good looks.

Though, it doesn’t matter much what he wears. He dazzles on every occasion, sways swathes of civilians with his silver tongue and striking smile. He’s horribly, magnificently magnetic. Anyone would be lucky to have him, for what he has and what is underneath it all. He would surely make a marvelous spouse—

He flicks your forehead, sending you stumbling backwards. Before you can take a tumble onto your arse, he does you the good favor of snatching you by the arm to steady you. When had he come so close?

Up close, his chagrin is much more obvious. You shift uncomfortably under his stare. You cannot recall what having a mother was like, but you can imagine this is what being scolded by one would feel like.

“Where do you go in that head of yours?” he says with a sigh, wry smile breaking out across his pink petal lips. 

“I… I don’t—” you stammer, scrambling for mental purchase. 

“You can tell me all about it later,” Yuri takes your hand with a graceful flourish of his cape, drawing you close to the firm, lean line of him. The scent of faint lilac wreaths around you like an old, comfortable coat. “When you’re a little more sober, at least.” There’s a genteel grace to his steps as he shepherds you towards the stone staircase.

“Where are we going?” You’re left to do aught but follow, a sudden, giddy giggle erupting from your chest as you stumble into his side. 

He sighs, belied by his wry smile. He relinquished his hold on your hand to wrap an arm around your waist, the stretch of his body so blessedly warm against your own. He chases the clinging chill away, dizzies your thoughts into paste.

You hardly hear him ask, “Bed. Yours or mine?” His question rattles you out of your drunken stupor. Your eyes go wide as saucers, palms hot with sweat as you struggle to form an adequate answer. Despite having known him for quite some time, his directness still manages to fluster you—an effect he likely intended, given his devious simper. What’s somehow worse is that you can’t bring yourself to be cross with him.

“Y-Yours,” you hardly realize you’ve spoken your mind until Yuri breaks out in a loud, genuine laugh. It’s unlike his typically tame chuckles, a sound of sheer exuberance that makes the inside of your chest twinge. You like hearing him this happy. You want him to be this happy all of the time.

“Bold. I like it.” he teases, jostling you in his grasp. 

“Oh shove it—wait!” you huff, but stay in step with him, struggling not to stumble as he shepherds you down the stone stairs A line of torches straddle the descending path. In your drunken haze, you had forgotten about the two guards posted at the bottom. The sight of them shocked you stiff-still. Your fingers curl into the fine brocade of his black cloak, pulling him flush to the wall. “Wait!” you hiss, voice nearly lost in his many layers.

“What? Did you leave something behind?”

“We can’t be seen sneaking around together!” you insist, and are immediately incensed at the eyeroll he gives you.

“And why would that be? Too ashamed to be seen with a charlatan like myself?” he drawls, yet takes you in closer. There’s a mean glint in his eyes, something decidedly wicked as his breath ghosts over your cheek, teasing your ear.

“Of course not!” you protest, eyes wide, cheeks got. How could you have misspoken so terribly? The last thing you wanted was to make him feel judged for the life he led, for the methods he employed in his occupation.  “It’s you I’m worried about. What’ll people say if they saw you consorting with the Mad Witch of the Wend? No one would… would…” You draw a trembling hand over his chest, feeling the cool silk under your fingertips.

“You’re worried about my image? How darling.” Yuri coos, clearly disregarding the seriousness of the situation. People talk, servants talk, guards talk. If you two were to be seen on a random, midnight rendezvous, then word would surely get back to the capital, where plenty of available, valuable bachelorettes could hear.

“Of course I am. You could still marry someone nice and rich from the capital. Someone connected…” you reason. You blink your bleary eyes attempting to clear the blur that sticks to your periphery like stubborn burrs. The world at its edges is opaque and slow as melting candle wax. This is precisely why you typically abstain from the absinthe and fine brandies which tradesmen plod through the outpost. It makes your head dull and your words impossible to find.

“Hm. No. I don’t think I will. Noble life never agreed with me.” Yuri gives your cheek a consoling pat. You get the feeling that he is still, for some reason, very amused. Which is preferable to him being offended, or hurt. You don’t mind him laughing at you, you think, not when genuine mirth flatters him so. “If I’m going to make a difference, it’s not going to be with someone else’s spending money.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

He tugs you past the posted guards, ushering you within the hollow halls of the outpost. Torches positioned on the wall shed gentle light up and down the small tunnel. You break beyond the thick walls which surround the inner manor—a proud, brutal building that sits a hybrid between the harsh stone architecture meant to shield from the cold and the slender, elegant cathedrals and house manors found en masse within the capital.

“I know.” Yuri shoots you a conspiratorial, knowing look. His thumb rubs gentle circles into your side. You can feel his touch through the two layers you have on, his arm having scooped beneath your outer cloak with dangerous efficiency. “The fact that you still think I could find some nice, doe-eyed girl from the upper crust to fall in love with is adorable, but I’m not interested in all that.” 

He pulls you through the inner sanctum with a self-assuredness that would make you think he owned the place. His strides are slow. His voice keeps his strides slow and his voice quiet, sticking to the walls and where the shadow sinks the deepest. His cape swishes and billows around you, keeps you shielded from prying gazes of glancing guardsmen. Every step he takes is quixotically quiet despite his heels.

“I just want you to be happy. With someone nice. Who can help you make your dreams come true.” 

He scoffs. “Ugh. When did you become such a ham?” you shove him again, and he laughs. “If you must know, I’ve already found the person I want to spend the rest of my days with.” He herds you to a nondescript wooden door, jamming a key into the lock before thrusting it open. The room is deathly dark, the only light slipping in silvery through a slit in the curtains. 

Incredulous and wide-eyed, you gape at him as he draws you inside, wondering if you had heard him properly. While he engaged with a number of brief romances and paramours, he never seemed entirely beholden to the idea of a permanent entanglement. Which you will not judge him for. Only members of the nobility prioritize marriage so persistently, all too eager to shuttle off their children to new, unloving homes for the sake of power. You can’t imagine Yuri buying into such a sham—even if the court’s coffers could fund his ambitions.

“You are? Who is it?” you finally muster up the gumption to ask. There’s a strange, cold feeling at the pit of your stomach. Burgeoning dread you cannot make heads or tails of.

“Worried they’ll steal me away?” Yuri says with a fond smile. He looks at you while he lights the bedside lamp. He does it with magic, you realize, catching the tail end of his somatic gesture, pointer finger aimed straight at the lamp in question, thumb quirked skyward. You’ve seen him do it a few times before in battle, spells interwoven with fast footwork and flashes of forged steel from underneath his half fastened cloak.  “You don’t need to worry your pretty head about all that—but you’ll be relieved to know that they live nearby. Very nearby, in fact.” He said, voice slowing to emphasize a point you don’t quite comprehend.

He unlatches the clasps on his cloak, gently dropping it over a nearby wooden chair. He smooths his hands over the back of it before he reaches for the buttons of his shirt. If you were perhaps a shred more sober, you would have immediately looked away. But you watch as he deftly sheds the silken garment, exposing planes of leam, pale flesh to the slight candlelight. 

He clears his throat, with a knowing smirk. You pointedly snap your gaze downwards, pretending to find sudden interest in the floorboards. They seem to glow a soft, warm brown, aged polish scuffed and scratched with the wear of time.

Hastily, you follow his example, casting off your outermost layers with great haste. It’s second nature to shift down to your undergarments at this point. Despite his teasing, you’re comfortable with Yuri. Word of his cunning and cut-throated customs is rife in both the underbelly and upper crust of Faerghus, but none of the gossip mongers who gab on about him actually know him. 

Years spent at his side have let you understand exactly the kind of man he is. Which is also why you know he would never be interested in someone like you. You’re something broken, something bent, misshapen by the malicious hands which made you. The idea of being coveted, of being loved strikes within you an uneasy feeling of wrongness. 

Ah, but you’re sure he’s still waiting for an answer…

“Yuri…” you begin. You don’t quite remember what you had been discussing, you realize with a strong swing of dismay. Yuri, blessed with an unfathomable amount of kindness, is quick to remind you.

“What? Does the honored Marquis truly want to know the sordid details of my sex life? How scandalous!” he exclaims. You guffaw, dropping onto the mattress face-first, still in your boots and trousers.

“I just wanna make sure you’re with someone good.” you mumble, pressing your face into the pillow. It’s cool, and you breathe a sigh of relief as you burrow further into the cushions. The entire bed smells like him, and if you were possessed of but an ounce more of sobriety you would be too abashed to savor it. 

“Again. Adorable. But you should really watch out for yourself,” he hums. His footsteps trail away from the bed, and you’re about to look over your shoulder when his hand wraps around your ankle and tugs, urging you onto your back. “I’m surprised you don’t have a line of suitors breaking down your doors everyday…” His fingers run down your clothed leg, to the leather and latches of your boots. You watch the graceful weave of his fingers as he slides them off, one after the other. He’s taken off his gloves, allowing you to just barely feel the fleeting warmth of his hands as they briefly swipe over your skin.  “Though, I suppose I should be grateful.”

“That I’m gonna be lonely forever?” you grumble, turning onto your side. 

“That I don’t have any background checks to do.” Yuri says, further away this time. You glance over your shoulder to where he’s gently dropping your boots near the door. So much care and compassion for something so small. 

“Oh… Does that mean I can ba…background check the person you like?” you ask, and he smiles. 

“Of course,” he says. His fingers weave through his long lilac locks, handily undoing his hair tie. He drops it on the nightstand before slipping underneath the sheets to settle beside you. “I have full confidence in your investigative skills, and you’ll quite like the person I chose.”

“That’s because you have good taste,” you mumble, eyes slipping shut. You wait a moment, and then two, and then three before opening one eye to peer at him. “Can I get a hint?”

“Again, don’t worry about it. At least, not right now. I’ll talk your ear off about it tomorrow, okay?” he says, consoling. His hand runs over your hair, fingers sliding down your neck. A flush of heat rolls through your spine, so silken and sanguine that you can’t suppress a shudder. You retreat to the cool comfort of your pillow, letting his touch sap the tension from your sore muscles. “When you have a better chance of actually remembering what I say.” The meat of his palm presses against your upper back. His heated touch saps the remaining tension from your body, soothing you enough to slip into the beginning phases of sleep.

“...Fine.” you huff, but there’s no real bite behind it. It’s half muffled into the pillowcase. You know Yuri likes being a man of his word, but he’s also a man in demand. There’s no telling if one of his gang members will burst through his door and announce a sudden tragedy that demands his attention. There’s no telling if he’ll be gone in the morning, a note left in his place written in that familiar, tidy cursive.

His roaming touch wanders upwards, warm fingers spanning across the nape of your neck. His thumb rubs soft circles into the skin together, and the touch alone would keep you awake if not for the alcohol muddling your system.

“And I’ll be here when you wake up,” he continues, as if sensing your apprehension. “You have my word on that.”

#fe3h x reader #fe3h/reader #yuri leclerc/reader #yuri leclerc x reader #yuri/reader #yuri leclerc #oz write #featuring fe3h

[frickingnerd]

being in a poly relationship with the ashen wolves

pairing: yuri leclerc x balthus von albrecht x gn!reader x constance von nuvelle x hapi / ashen wolves x gn!reader

tags: fluff, poly relationship, established relationship

all of the ashen wolves are dating each other, as well as you!

it most likely started with one of them, probably yuri or balthus, mentioning that they thought you looked hot and since then, the four of them had their eyes on you!

the four of them are often flirting with you and since they are all extroverts, neither of them hesitates to be the first one to ask you out on a date

but it didn't stop at one date with just one of the ashen wolves, as the other three soon asked you out as well and you officially became the fifth member of their polycule

it might take you a bit to get used to dating the four of them, as their dynamic with each other is already established, while you are still new

on top of that, the four of them aren't as affectionate as others might be, so it can feel sometimes like you are just really good friends

but while they aren't openly affectionate with you, the four of them show how much they love you by protecting you and standing up for you wherever they can!

especially yuri would kill to protect the people he loves and you're one of them!

out of the four, constance is still the most affectionate person and the clingiest. she's usually studying magic, but when she isn't completely taken in by her studies, she loves to cuddle with you

hapi is the most honest and supportive one of the group! she can be brutally honest at times, but that also means she gives the best advice! plus, you always know that she has your best interest in mind!

yuri and balthus are the most flirty of the bunch! they are always hitting on you, but with yuri it feels more like he's teasing you, while balthus feels more genuine with his compliments

when the five of you are together, there's almost nothing that can stop you! you're the power couple of garreg mach's underground. or rather, the power quintet…?

either way, there's nothing that could separate you five and nothing that you can't deal with when working together!

#balthus von albrecht x reader #yuri leclerc x reader #constance von nuvelle x reader #hapi x reader #hapi #constance von nuvelle #yuri leclerc #balthus von albrecht #x reader #x you #x y/n #x gn reader #fluff #headcanons #polyamorous #ashen wolves x reader #ashen wolves #fire emblem three hopes #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem x reader #fire emblem #fe3h #balthus #yuri #constance

[originalfireemblemscenarios]

[Character interaction thingy with Yuri! 🍹 fem!reader /c with a fake dating plotline near the ball!]

Y/n grimaced a bit when Yuri continued to tease Sylvain, but Byleth was quick to realize that this conversation wasn’t going to be as juicy as he wanted it to be, so the conversation was shut down in favor of the lecture.

Once classes were over, Y/n waited for Yuri outside, who probably had a couple of things to tie up with Byleth since this was his first class and all. “Hey, Y/n,” said Sylvain, placing a hand on her shoulder which she quickly pulled away from. “Is there a reason why you’re giving this Yuri guy a chance and not me? I mean, you haven’t given any guy the time of day before but him? Don’t try to deny it, I’ve noticed the way you look at him.”

“It’s not about that, and it’s certainly not about you, Sylvain.” She hugged her stomach. “Look, leave it. It’s our business.”

So sorry for not responding yesterday. Some stuff happened and welp I was just too mad to write.

The next answer I'll have for you will be my last for the event! But next time it comes back feel free to continue the interaction!

~💘

Surprisingly for Yuri, Byleth didn't say a lot nor did he assign much more for him so the conversation went by quickly.

As he left he looks at you talking to Sylvain he didn't know what the deal was and he didn't wanted to interrupt. All he could hear was Sylvain saying "Alright, I think I get it. But make sure take action before it's too late" winking before leaving.

He could only guess what that would mean but you looked uncomfortable "Hey... What was that about?" he said it in a way where it was clear that he wasn't going to push for it if you didn't want to talk about it.

#character interactions #fe yuri #yuri fe3h #yuri fire emblem #Yuri fe #Fe3h Yuri #Yuri x reader #yuri leclerc #yuri leclair

[sothisblessmysoul]

༓ʚ Notice Me ɞ༓

Summary: Yuri and Ferdinand reacting to you doing a kabedon on them.

༓Yuri Leclerc  If he is surprised it’s hard to tell by the quick smirk overtaking his face. Yuri is enjoying this, both finding amusement in the whole situation and also because of the face you’re making in return for his smirk. He began to lean towards you, you leaned back subconsciously as Yuri softly grabbed both of your hands with his to bring them up to his lips. A kiss was placed on them as Yuri kept his eyes locked on yours. It’s hard to say if you’ll regret this.

༓Ferdinand von Aegir  How aggressively his face is overtaken by a blush makes you want to blush in response, especially as he lets out a nervous laugh as Ferdinand covers his face shyly with both hands. Aside from his reaction making the situation a little embarrassing and awkward, it was equally exciting. Seeing this side of him, seeing how he reacts to you even more when Ferdinand removed one of his hands to stare at you only to let out a shaky sigh at the sight of your eyes on him. It seems that Ferdinand is excited by the situation just as you are.

#ferdinand x reader #yuri x reader #fe3h imagine #fe3h hc #ashen wolves #black eagles #black eagles imagine #ashen wolves imagines #fe3h reader

[jesskasb]

9 people you'd like to get to know better

heyyy thank you so much @nitw for the tag 🫶 i love to do these

three ships: sylvix fe3h (been crazy since 2019), metamy sth (mostly platonically but when it hits it hits), aaaaand. JUNEPEI 999 (they are yuri to me).

first ship ever: i was like 9 or 10 years old when this happened ok i obviously dont support shipping real people. my first ""ship"" were youtubers gona89 and sarinha ... the youtuber shipping craze hit the hispanic minecraft scene late and in a more lighthearted way so it was mostly shits and giggles but still

last song: El Gran Varón by Willie Colón !! was showing it to my roommate yesterday night while telling her my tragic backstory . #transgender

last movie: tmnt mutant mayhem ... i miss the turtles so bad

currently watching: penny snapcube vods, jacksepticeye, and some new smosh stuff. if youtube doesnt count ig ive been watching sonic x every once in a while!

currently reading: finishing up "the left hand of darkness" by ursula le guin for my scifi class 👍 very interesting stuff

currently consuming: banana 🍌

currently craving: this incredibly delicious chicken nugget sandwich im making myself

tagging: @moonpiesarah @mystic-dahlia @vincentspork @giselles-dumping-hat @rootbeerfloats @business-cannibal @rottingrobin @meteorherd and YOU dear reader . feel free to do this if you guys want !

#tag games #alexchanting