#I'm also not giving up on all the love talk meaning we'll get some more good jeresa material
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Father knows best chapter 14: Don't give up on me
'I will fight
I will fight for you
I always do, until my heartIs black and blue
And I will stay
I will stay with you
We'll make it to the other side
Like lovers do.
I'll reach my hands out in the dark
And wait for yours to interlock.
I'll wait for you.
I'll wait for you. ~ Don't give up on me, Andy Grammer. {movie: Five feet apart.}
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Possum note: That's right, this book still exists. I didn't forget. Don't worry. Lol.
I've been so sick all week otherwise it would have been posted last week. Had some editing to do for it before posting. Hopefully it's alright. It's really late rn.
⚠️TW: involuntary Regression, talks of abuse, mentioned trafficking lots of hurt feelings, apologizes, regrets, implied self hate, Talks of violence, fear of rejection, hospitals. LMK if I should add.
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~~~M&M: Past:~~~
Millie and Moxxie had the most beautiful wedding.
He's not sure if it was only the most beautiful wedding he's ever seen because it was actually that beautiful…or because it was his.
It didn't really matter, it was the most beautiful in any case.
He's never been so happy in his entire life!
…but he's also never been more terrified either.
Millie would be in huge danger if they were ever found out.
He has absolutely no doubt that she could handle herself if anyone came after them, but that didn't mean he felt okay about that possibility.
“I wish my parents could've been here to see this.” Millie says as they lay in their bed at the hotel room.
“I know. Me too.” He says, laying down next to her.
The two of them stare at the ceiling…
“Did you tell your pa we got married?” Millie asks.
“Yeah, he says congratulations.” He lies.
Millie smiles. “That was nice. When do I get to meet him?”
“I don't know.” Moxxie says. “He’s just really busy. He's never really had time for family stuff…not since…”
“Your ma?” Millie asks.
Sure.
“Yeah.” He says.
“Do you think she would have liked me?” Millie asks.
“She would have loved you.” Moxxie tells her…
…It's the truth…he thinks.
But sometimes, you have to make up your own truth. “She would have been very happy for us.” He says. “She would have loved to be here.”
He tried so hard to imagine what it would have been like if she were here…
There's a good version…and a bad one.
In the good fantasy, she helped Millie get ready, told her how happy she was that Moxxie was happy…like the movies.
She'd give Millie the pearls she wore at her wedding, a gift from her mother.
And Millie would wear them, even if they're not really her style.
Millie is a badass, but she's also so kind and polite. Even if Moxxie tried to say something, Millie would insist she wear them.
‘I'm wearing them. They're the…most beautiful pearls I've ever seen in my entire life and I'm honored.’
‘Millie, you don't have to-’
‘Shut up, I'm wearing them!’
His mother would turn to Moxxie and tell him to treat Millie well because she deserved the world…because she does.
She absolutely does.
She deserved everything from him. Every good thing he could give.
Since he was already imagining, his father and Alessio would be there too…
His father would tell him that he made his father proud, that he found a good one.
Alessio would hand them the rings at the ceremony with a proud smile on his face.
But…
Then, there was the real version…
What would really happen if they were all there…
His mother would beg him not to do it.
‘Don't ruin Millie's life like your father did mine, please. She deserves better than this.’
She'd warn Millie not to go through with it.
His father would call him a miserable failure, he'd definitely put a stop to the wedding before it could actually happen…
Alessio would pull him away before the ceremony so that Millie would think he just stood her up.
They'd lock him up for a few days, and his mother would tell him it was all for the best.
“Honey?” Millie asks him, pulling him out of those dark thoughts. “Are you okay?”
….He decided he'd stick with the fantasy.
Moxxie smiles at her. “I'm okay. I love you so much.” He tells her, taking her hand.
“I love you too.” She says. She kisses Moxxie with such passion and devotion that he could feel nothing but happiness and love for her.
She was his family now…
No one else matters.
They're okay. And he’ll do everything to make sure of that.
~~~Present:~~~~
They arrive at the hospital to bring M&M in.
Stolas was already there at the door waiting for them.
Once they are parked, Stolas starts barking orders at the hospital staff, knowing he'll need to use his authority to get them to help the imps. Imps aren't exactly a priority otherwise.
Blitzø gets out of the van quickly so they can get to Millie first.
“Blitzø! Are you alright?” Stolas asks once he's out of the van, taking his wrist so he can look the imp over quickly to examine his burns and scars.
“I'm fine, M&M are the ones who need help.” Blitzø explains. “Millie was shot, and Moxxie- I don't really know what's happening with him to be honest with you. But he's not… doing okay.”
Stolas tells the staff to get Millie out of the van. “She needs help first, and then these two.” Stolas gestures to Moxxie and Blitzø once Moxxie is also out, along with Loona and Sallie May.
The staff nods and they immediately tend to Millie.
Blitzø sighs. “Stolas-”
“Shush.” Stolas says to Blitzø before turning his attention back to the staff. “And check those two as well.” He says, pointing at Loona and Sallie May. “No one is leaving this hospital until you're sure everyone is alright.” He says.
“Yes, sir. We'll get her in and fixed up, if everyone else can please wait in the waiting room.” One of the doctors says to them.
Stolas gestures for Blitzø to sit in the waiting room first, face firm in case he tries to argue again.
Blitzø does as Stolas tells him, but he doesn't like it! He hates hospitals! Stolas knows that!
His little self is creeping out, small thoughts of how mean Stolas is for making him do this, it's not fair-
Now is not the time to be small, Blitzø!
He tried to get himself out of it, thinking of big things…
Uhm taxes…
Paperwork…
Muder?
Stolas attempts to comfort Blitzø by placing a gentle hand in his.
Blitzø looks at their hands, then smiles and lightly squeezes Stolas's.
He's not really helping the smallness. But he does appreciate it.
Suddenly, someone shoves a clipboard at him. Not violently, but suddenly. “Just some paperwork for you to fill out. Where do I give Millie's?” One of the nurses asked.
Blitzø blinks. “Uh.”
“I got it.” Stolas says, taking the clipboard.
“You know nothing about Millie.” Blitzø says once the nurse is gone.
“You're doing it.” Stolas says. “I don't think Moxxie is in the right headspace for it.”
“No kidding.” Blitzø mumbles, taking the clipboard from him.
He finishes his and then does his best to fill in Millie's…
But he doesn't know everything about her…
Sigh…
He needs Moxxie's help.
He looks up at the white haired Imp, just staring at his own clipboard, eyes looking dead.
This was all his fault…
Why didn't he just ask Stolas for help sooner?
Moxxie deserves a lot better.
~~~Moxxie and Blitzø:~~~~
Moxxie sat down by himself across from Blitzø, but far enough away from him and Loona. He really just wants to be alone right now…
But he also doesn't. He doesn't really know.
The nurse handed him some paperwork, and he set it aside immediately, he didn't want to see a doctor…he just wanted it all to be over.
He wishes he didn't exist.
But not with his father…
Or with him? It would be easier if he was there instead.
No.
No, that would not be better, that's manipulation talking. Not the truth.
He wants to be here.
Okay not here…but better here than there he supposed.
He has a clipboard in his hands…
He looked at the other one that he just set aside, then looked down at it and realized it wasn't the hospitals…it was the list of all the littles that were trafficked by his father.
He doesn't even remember grabbing it. He flips it open and looks through the many names…
He carefully reads them…looks like most of those who were trafficked are in pride.
Makes sense, probably sinners since they can't adopt littles of their own.
For good reasons, he's sure.
Sick fucks.
“Moxxie?”
Moxxie looks up at Blitzø who was looking at him with what appeared to be nervousness.
He blinks…is he sure it's Blitzø?
Blitzø hands him another clipboard, there's too many clipboards.
“I tried filling it in as best as I could but I don't remember Millie's blood type.” Blitzø says. “Or birthday.”
Moxxie doesn't respond, only looks over the unanswered questions and fills them out real quick.
Blitzø sits next to him. “Hey…”
Moxxie looks back at his boss.
Blitzø sighs, he knows Moxxie is not okay, but he wants to ask anyway! What's a way to ask that isn't so…obvious?
“How uh- how you holding up?” Blitzø asks, hoping that was an okay way of asking.
Moxxie shrugs, expression not changing. “I don't know…I'm-”
He thinks it over, not sure what to say.
He gives up, finishing Millie's paper work before moving on to his own.
“Look…Mox, I'm so sorry for what happened today- I didn't mean to start that fire…” Blitzø takes a second to breathe, not wanting to think about how…
How familiar it all felt.
He often wished he just apologized to Fizz that day, he wasn't about to make the same mistake with Moxxie.
Moxxie doesn't say anything, so Blitzø continues: “I could have saved you earlier if I had just accepted help from Stolas. I don't know why I didn't I guess I just-”
Moxxie raises an eyebrow. “Did- did you just apologize to me?” He asks.
Blitzø looks at Moxxie, confused. “...Yes?”
“You've- I don't think you've ever done that before.” Moxxie says.
Blitzø hums. He looks away from Moxxie. “Yeah…pretty sure I owe you at least five thousand apologies at this point.” He says. “Sorry it took so long to finally hear one. I've been awful to you. I'm awful to everyone…it's not a excuse, that would be the worst defense actually…I just-”
“That's two.” Moxxie says.
Blitzø scoffs. “Shut up, please? I'm being serious.” He says, slightly amused by Moxxie, but not wanting to admit it.
“Serious too? Wow. Lots of new behaviors from you today.” Moxxie says, not mean or sarcastic, just…teasingly?
“Forgive me for being a little remorseful.” Blitzø rolls his eyes in annoyance, crossing his arms as he leans back in his chair.
“Vocabulary improved too.” Moxxie says.
“Okay, we're done talking about me.” Blitzø says, same annoyed tone.
“Stolas must be a good influence on you-”
“Moxxie!” Blitzø shouts, not in a mean way, just loudly to show his seriousness.
Moxxie chuckles. “I'm sorry, I'm done. I'm just…I don’t know. I can't take anything seriously right now. Everything is so fucked up, I don't really know how to react to anything right now.
Blitzø nods. “Yeah…I get that.”
“I’m sorry I lied to you, sir.” Moxxie says, catching Blitzø a little off guard.
“Blitzø.” Blitzø corrects, not sure how else to respond.
Moxxie nods. “I’m sorry I lied to you, Blitzø. I know I should have told you the truth before, but it was just- I- well…”
“Moxxie…you have nothing to apologize for, alright? You didn’t do anything wrong. I wouldn’t have told me either, are you kidding?” Blitzø asks. “You didn't know what kind of person I was. And even when you did, it didn't really matter. Besides, I sorta figured you were a little anyway.” Blitzø admits.
“Really?” Moxxie asks. ”It was that obvious?”
“Well, it was always a question in the back of my mind. The point is, you have nothing to be ashamed of, and just because I know for sure now, doesn’t mean I’ll treat you any different.” Blitzø explains.
“Thank you, s- uh Blitzø.” Moxxie says. “But-“
“What?” Blitzø asks.
“Crimson threatened your family, he threatened I.M.P! Even if he is…-” He can't bring himself to say it. “I bring danger wherever I go! What if the rest of my family decides to find me? What if they-”
Blitzø grips his shoulders again. “Moxxie, my family is safe. We’re fine. Everyone is okay. If they’re not, we’ll deal with it. This isn’t your fault.” He says.
“But I should never have let it get that far in the first place! You saved me from being homeless, you helped me escape prison, saved me from my family, twice now- you don’t deserve this!” Moxxie says.
“Moxxie, we’re friends. We fight shit together. Besides, this was nothing I couldn’t handle.” Blitzø says. “We escaped prison together, we started I.M.P together, we fought the human government! There's nothing we can't do. And Millie? She could do it all without us, but she has us: we can handle anything that's thrown our way so long as we got each other's backs.”
“Moxxie nods. “Thanks, Blitzø.”
“Don’t mention it.” He says. “Well, since I now know your secret…I guess it's only fair you know mine.”
“Are you going to tell me that you're a little too?” Moxxie asks him.
Blitzø sighs. “Yup.”
“I figured.” Moxxie says.
Blitzø shrugs. “Well, littles kinda have a weird sixth sense about these things.” Blitzø says.
Moxxie nods. “Yeah... “It doesn't change how I feel about you either.” He says reassuringly.
“Thanks, Mox.” Blitzø doesn't smile, but Moxxie knows that he was happy to hear it.
“I need to apologize to Millie.” Moxxie says. “But, I don't know how.”
Blitzø nods. “Yeah, that won't be a fun one. But, it'll be fine.”
“What if she never forgives me?” Moxxie asks.
“She will.” Blitzø says.
“She shouldn't.” Moxxie argues.
“She will.” Blitzø says again, a little louder.
“I didn't mean to cause all of this.” Moxxie says.
“Moxxie, stop. You didn't cause this.”
“Stop saying that.” Moxxie says. “Because I did.”
“I will stop once you stop blaming yourself, it was my fault more than it was yours; You didn't ask to be kidnapped or to be forced into your father's creepy mind games.” He says. “You're the victim in case you haven't noticed.”
Moxxie looks as if he's about to say something else…but he doesn't.
While they were talking, Stolas had taken all the paperwork to the nurse.
“Moxxie Knolasname?” The nurse called. “The doctor will see you now.”
Moxxie stands up.
“Good luck.” Blitzø says.
Moxxie smiles at him. “Thanks, Blitzø.”
Moxxie looks at him for a moment, as if there was something more he wanted to say…
But he didn't.
~~~Blitzø and Loona:~~~
After the conversation with Moxxie, Blitzø got started on his next apology…
He moved to sit down next to his daughter, the guilt eating at him alive…
“What do you want?” Loona sighs.
“I didn't mean to worry you, Loony.” Blitzø says. “I know I messed up.” He says.
Loona sighs. “We could have lost Moxxie.” She states.
“Loon-”
She holds up a finger. “I couldn't lose you both. I couldn't live with that. You're my father, dude. You're supposed to be there, I still need you around!” She shouts, trying not to be too loud, but she's so angry, she can't help it.
Blitzø takes a deep breath. “I know, I'm sorry. I just-”
“You need to take care of yourself!” Loona says. “I'm not losing another parent.” She says.
“Loona, you're not-”
Loona starts tearing up. “This was all my fault…” she whispers.
“What?” Blitzø asks, he hasn't seen her cry in a while…he's not sure what to do.
“I was supposed to be watching him, I couldn't track him down, I've been so awful to him!” Loona cries outwardly now.
“Hey.” Blitzø rests a hand on her shoulder. “Loona, this was not your fault…do you hear me?” Blitzø asks.
Loona nods. “Yeah.”
“Good. It wasn't your job to take care of Moxxie, he's a grown man.” He says. “I never should have put that on you. I never thought it would go this far.”
“...I couldn't track him.” She says.
“It was impossible to track him. Why would I expect the impossible from you?” Blitzø asks. “That's ridiculous.”
“You don't get it.” Loona says. “It's the one thing I'm good at, the only thing I'm good for, isn't that why you adopted me!?” She asks.
Blitzø's eyes widened. “What?! Of course not! Loonie-”
Loona turns away.
“No, look at me, Loonie.” Blitzø tells her. “You are my daughter. You mean way more to me than your physical abilities. I know you. You're smarter than you think you are, you're hilarious, driven, you hide everything behind sarcasm and anger but I know how passionate you are, how you want way more than anyone could or has ever offered. Loona…you matter to me. I love you. I saw that you had so much to offer the world and deserved a better chance, that's why I adopted you. No other reason.”
Loona looks at him.
“I went into that pound to find a hellhound for I.M.P. but…my motives changed once I saw you.” Blitzø explains further.
Loona smiles.
She wants to thank him, tell him that she loves him too…
But…
She really doesn't want to cry again.
Loona wipes away the tears quickly and stands up. “I'm gonna go get some real Coffee, want some?” Loona asks.
Blitzø shakes his head. “No, my nerves are bad enough right now.” He says, half joking.
Loona smiles and nods. “Yeah.” She turns to Stolas, who was a decent distance away. “Take care of him?”
Stolas smiles at her, then at Blitzø. “Always.”
~~~Stolas and Blitzø: a few minutes later:~~~
“Okay, Mr Blitzo. We're ready for you.” Someone suddenly says.
Blitzø's breathing fastens as his chest feels this horrible- horrible pain.
He was doing so well, but now he either wants to cry or kill every nurse and doctor in this damn place!
“Is it alright if I accompany him?” Stolas asks.
“I suppose so, if he's okay with that.” The doctor says.
“Blitzø?” Stolas asks him for clarification. “Is it alright if I go with you?”
Blitzø nods, taking Stolas's hand. “Please.”
He's feeling small…he can't fight it anymore. He needs Stolas there!
Stolas smiles. “Come on.” He leads Blitzø to the doctor's office.
They get a few strange looks, but no one questioned why he went with the imp.
“Take a seat please.” The doctor tells him.
Blitzø climbs up on the hospital bed and sits down, still holding Stolas's hand.
He's kicking his little feet anxiously and his eyes are showing off innocence.
Stolas realizes he's small now, and he gives Blitzø a worried look.
“Alright, Mr Blitzø. What happened here?” The doctor asks.
Blitzø doesn't answer, he just bites down on one of his claws.
“There was a fire.” Stolas says softly, taking Blitzø's hand out of his mouth.
“Is he a little?” She asks Stolas.
Stolas feels a cold sweat as the imp is reaching for him, asking for some comfort.
“Well, I want to say no.” Stolas says.
“Stowes.” Blitzø whispers loudly, it's cute he thinks the doctor can't hear that.
“He's a secret little then?” She asks. “I get those more often than you'd think. I promise I won't say anything.” She says. “It's not really any of my business.”
“Oh.. Thank you, I appreciate that.” Stolas says.
She gently and carefully touches Blitzø’s face.
Blitzø flinches and moves away from her.
“Hey, it's okay, sweetie.” She says.
Blitzø whines, reaching and clawing at Stolas to get away.
Stolas takes his hands carefully. “Blitzø, calm down, please. She's not going to hurt you, I promise I wouldn't let her do that.”
Blitzø does believe Stolas, but that didn't make him any less afraid!
His breathing continued rapidly as soft whines escaped him as she examined his wounds.
She looks them over and carefully bandages him up. “He'll be fine, there's gonna be quite a few new white marks on him, but-”
“But he'll be alright?” Stolas asks.
She nods. “Oh yeah, he'll be fine.” She turns to Blitzø. “You'll have to keep those bandages on for a bit until they're fully healed, okay hun?” The doctor asks. “Replace them every day or so, or whenever you think you need to.”
Blitzø doesn't answer her, just stares at her with fear and skepticism.
Stolas speaks up. “I'll make sure he takes care of himself. Don't worry.”
She smiles. “You're so lucky to have such a good caregiver.” She says, handing Blitzø a lollipop.
Blitzø takes it, reluctantly, biting the plastic and deciding its gross.
Stolas shakes his head as he takes the lollipop and unwraps it for him. “No, I'm the lucky one.”
“Is that your daddy?” The doctor asks.
Blitzø shakes his head. “Mm no. Dats my Stowes.”
Stolas pets his head. “Is there somewhere we can go until he's out of his headspace?” Stolas asks.
“Of course. There's a quiet room outside. Walk down the hall. It's the one with the koala on the door.” She says.
“Thank you.” Stolas smiles.
~~~Moxxie and Sally May.~~~
“You alright?” Sallie May approached Moxxie once he got out of the doctors office, she handed him a coffee from the machine.
“I'm fine.” Moxxie says, taking the coffee. “Thanks.”
“The coffee here sucks.” She says. “I'm getting some real coffee after they tell us Millie's not fucking dying.”
Loona offered to get her one, but she turned her down, not knowing the wolf well enough to trust her with her drink.
Moxxie’s breathing fastens at that moment, thinking about Millie and the state she's in!
“Woah, chill out. She's fine, she's survived worse than this.” Sallie tells him.
“I know, I know. I know she's fine, I just-”
“You're worried, I get it.” Sallie says. “I am too…”
They were quiet for a few minutes,
“So. You're a little?” Sallie May asks.
Moxxie nods, it was weird admitting it. “Yeah, so?”
“So, how'd you fake the test?” She asks.
“My father made me.” Moxxie says. “Hypnosis works wonders on the mind.”
Sallie May hums, understandingly.
“How about you?” Moxxie asks back.
Sallie's eyes widened. “What?”
“I've known since I first met you.” Moxxie says.
“You've never said anything...” Sallie says, shifting awkwardly.
“It's not really my business.” Moxxie says.
Sallie licks her lips. She has never talked to anyone about it…ever. Not even Millie or her brothers.
“You don't have to answer.” Moxxie says. “I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
She looks away from him, appreciating his sensitivity, she supposed.
She's not sure if it was the situation or the fact that Moxxie is a little that makes her want to, but she does want to tell him. “...It was hard after I came out.” She explains, not entirely sure why, but she thinks she can trust him. “My parents didn't really…get it. I mean, they were fine with me being myself, they tried to be supportive. But, it was so stressful! Everyone was treating me like- like I changed but I didn't! I dyed my hair and changed my clothes, and they acted like I was a complete stranger they didn't even know!”
Moxxie nods.
Sallie took some deep breaths. The only one who treated her the same was Millie, their rivalry didn't change a bit…and it was amazing!
‘Thanks for not…you know, treating me like a complete stranger.’
‘You're not a stranger, I always knew who you were, an annoying, stubborn, badass bitch. I think…you're brave. Being honest about who you are isn't always easy. Especially with our parents.’
It was a small compliment that they barely lingered on…
But it meant the world to Sallie…
“After that I- I just- I didn't know how to tell them that I was a regressor too. So, I didn't. I studied that test for months to make sure I didn't get a regressor classification… I just couldn't do it.”
Moxxie nods. “Yeah…I get that.” Moxxie sayd. “I don't know how I'm going to face it.”
“Face what?” She asks.
“The rest of my life.” Moxxie says.
“I've been there, trust me. Sometimes being yourself is harder than the fake version you've invented…but that ain't livin.” She says.
“But I've been pretending my whole life.” Moxxie says. “I don't even know where the facade ends and I start. I feel like I've been broken for so long…and I'm just pretending I'm all put together.”
“It's okay to not be, you know, it's okay to not be alright. It's alright to be a little broken. Everyone is a little…”
“People always say that, but they never mean it.” He says.
“I do…” She takes a sip of coffee then turns to him. “Suffer.” She says, snarkily.
Moxxie rolls his eyes.
“Seriously though, let yourself feel. Those who really matter will be there. “
“You need to learn to take your own advice.” Moxxie says.
Sallie shrugs. “But I worry no one in my family really matters.”
“We do.” Moxxie says. “Millie and I will be there for you regardless of what your family says. But you should give them a chance to care before assuming they won't be supportive.”
Sallie May scoffs. “You need to learn to take your own advice.”
“Moxxie, you can see your wife now.”
Moxxie feels a sharp pain of guilt hit his heart…
He takes a deep breath.
“It'll be alright.” Sallie May promises.
But there's no way she can know that…
Moxxie nods anyway and stands up.
“Moxxie?”
“Yeah?”
“Don't tell Millie about me.” She says.
“I wouldn't do that.” Moxxie says. “I promise your secret is safe with me.”
~~~Stolas and Blitzø:~~~~
Blitzø and Stolas find the quiet room.
The sign on the door wrote: ‘Quiet room/Sensory-friendly room. Please be respectful.’
The room was a beautiful blue color, and the lighting was soft as was the music that was playing inside.
There were toys in the center of the room, and beautiful shelves that were sorted nicely and labeled.
-Fidgets
-soft toys.
-paper
-towels
-wipes
-headphones.
It was a paradise for any little one, or for those who deal with sensory issues, anxiety, or those who are autistic.
It had everything they could possibly need.
Stolas set Blitzø down next to him in the seating area. “Are you doing alright?” Stolas asks him.
Blitzø shrugs, climbing back onto Stolas’s lap.
“Do you want to go home?” He asks, petting the imp’s head.
Blitzø shakes his head and whines through the lollipop in his mouth, hugging Stolas tight.
“Would you like to stay with me tonight?” Stolas asks him.
Blitzø nods. “Scay.” He says through the lolly.
Stolas kisses the top of Blitzø's head. “Alright, you can stay with me. As long as you'd like, little one.”
“Stowes?” Blitzø asks, taking the candy out of his mouth.
“Yes dear?”
“M’ in twoble?”
Stolas tilts his head. “Of course not, darling. Why would you think that?”
“I ‘pose ta be big.” He says.
Stolas kisses the top of Blitzø's head. “You can't help that, darling. You had such a big stressful day today. Besides, the doctor isn't going to say anything. Even if she did, I promise I would never let anything bad happen to you. Alright?”
Blitzø nods. “Stowes?”
“Yes?”
“Hawts.” He whines, resting his head against Stolas's chest.
“I know, dear. I promise it'll get better.” Stolas holds him gently, avoiding his more sensitive areas. It was hard but he found a comfortable enough position to hold the imp before the little one fell fast asleep.
~~~Millie and Moxxie:~~~
Moxxie hesitates a moment before entering Millie's room.
What can he say?
He lied to her, hid his true self, his family, and dragged her into all of it.
His head was spinning and he felt so cold…
The doctors had prescribed him anti-anxiety medication and gave him the number to a therapy clinic.
That's what he needs. Drugs and strangers to talk to about what happened.
Right now he wishes he could take the drugs.
And talking to a stranger would be easier than talking to Millie right now …
Which hurts…because Millie is his favorite person to talk to.
He takes a deep breath and opens the door.
“Moxxie!” She smiles, lively as ever. She acts as if she didn't lose a shit ton of blood from her leg.
“Hi.” Moxxie smiles. “How are you feeling?”
Millie reaches for Moxxie's hand and pulls him forward, hugging him tightly. “I'm so glad you're safe. Are you hurt at all?”
Moxxie shakes his head. “I'm fine Millie. I'm not hurt. I'm okay.”
Millie sighs with relief. “Good.”
There was a few minutes of silence between the two…now that they both know the other was fine… there was room for other thoughts.
“Moxxie?” Millie asks, voice a bit hesitant, but determined as well.
Moxxie looks at her. “Yeah?”
Millie looked up at her husband sadly. “Why didn’t you tell me?” She asks him. “I would have understood. I don't under-”
“Millie…” Moxxie turns his head slightly away from her. “Can we maybe not talk about this right now?” He interupts.
“I’m your wife!” Millie says. “How could you not tell me? I am always here for you, how could you think that I-” Millie takes a deep breath. “What did you think I would do to you?”
Moxxie shakes his head. “Nothing, I just-” he really didn’t want to talk about it…he wanted to forget it.
“Moxxie?” Millie asks. “Are you alright?”
Moxxie shakes his head again. “She was right. I never should have dragged you into this. I'm sorry.”
“Who's she?” Millie asks.
Moxxie gets up and walks around the room a bit. He doesn't know why, he just has to move!
“Moxxie?” Millie asks.
“Do you need anything?” He asks. “Are you hungry or need another pillow?”
“I need answers.” She says simply.
She doesn't understand any of this…what was going on!?
Moxxie sighs. “Millie…please?”
Millie nods. “Alright. I'm- I'm sorry. You're right. It can wait, I'm just-”
Moxxie takes her hand. “You don't have to be…I'm the one who's sorry.” Moxxie says.
Millie smiles at him. “It's okay.” She says. “You didn't do anything wrong, hun. I'm not mad at you.”
“Really?” Moxxie asks. “You're not mad?”
“Of course I'm not mad. I'm confused, maybe a little hurt, but I'm sure you have your reasons, right?” Millie asks him.
Moxxie nods.
Millie reaches to touch Moxxie's face. “I love you so much. You know that, don't you?”
Moxxie nods. “I know. I love you too.”
Moxxie sighs and he's suddenly very unable to stand still, fidgeting, needing something to do.
“Hun?” Millie asks.
Moxxie looks at her. “Yeah?”
“Can you get me a glass of water?” She asks.
Moxxie smiles and nods. “Yeah. Thanks, Millie.” He says, about to leave the room.
“And Moxxie?”
He stops. “Yes, Millie?”
“Whatever the answer is- when you're ready…it'll be okay.” She promises. “We'll work this out together. Like we always do.”
Moxxie nods. “Okay…”
He leaves to get her the water.
And Millie sighs once she's alone again.
It was hard to accept. But she trusts Moxxie.
Sometimes trusting someone means not getting all the answers right away.
Even when it's killing you.
♡
♡
♡
'And I will hold
I'll hold onto you
No matter what this world'll throw
It won't shake me loose'
Cause I'm not givin' upI'm not givin' up,
No not yet
Even when I'm down to my last breath
Even when they say there's nothin' left
So don't give up on me
I'm not giving up,
No not me
Even when nobody else believes
I'm not goin' down that easily
So don't give up on me.'
Don't give up on me, Andy Grammer. {movie: Five feet apart.}
♡
♡
♡
Possum: One more chapter, one more chapter!! Then we get lotsa Moxxie fluff! Hang in there guys!!! Lol 😆
Hope you guys liked this chapter okay. It's not anything special, the next one will hopefully be better.
At least we know about Sallie now! What do you guys think of her being a regressor? Lmk.
♡
♡
♡
@todayimfour @ask-dusty-boy @im-not-paying-my-taxes @abby5577
@thatswhat24 @stormy-is-hyperfixated @trophyxtissues2 @attagirljessy
@legeufygeuber100
#ittybittyimps#father knows best#fkb ittybittyimps#father knows best IBI#little!Moxxie#age regressor Moxxie#age regressor Sallie May
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bragger - lando norris
summary: fans constantly tease yn for always bringing lando up and being a bit of a simp for her boyfriend - which only gets worse after his first f1 win - so she writes a song about how if they were her they'd do the same.
warnings: none i think??? but let me know if i missed any. the song mentioned is 'bragger' by kelsea ballerini!! (((:
IN HONOUR OF LANDO'S VERY FIRST WIN !! 🥇
y/n.updates
Liked by fan22 and 1.340 others
y/n.updates Y/n's interview with WIRED where she answers the web's most searched questions about her is now out! Go give it a watch 😄
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fan1 she looked painfully beautiful in this
fan2 how was lando in the answer for questions like 'does y/n speak spanish?' or 'is y/n a good singer?' lol
fan7 she said she didn't remember much from high school but knew some words lando had been taught by carlos sainz and that her boyfriend tells her she is... it kind of isn't that weird if u think about it haha
user1 The more I see of her, the more I like her
fan7 i spy with my little eye 1.6K people with no taste
fan3 interview was everything I hoped for and more! she's hilarious and relatable as always
fan4 new drinking game: take a shot every time she mentions lando
fan5 I've watched it like 5 times already lol
fan6 we need a tally for how many times Y/n drops 'Lando' in her interviews. can someone make that happen?
y/n.y/l
Liked by carlossainz55 and 1.890.321 others
y/n.y/l the vibe i bring to the function (ugly crying on facetime) !!! so incredibly happy for you @/landonorris. you did it 🧡🧡🧡
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y/n.y/l also congrats @/oscarpiastri and everyone else at mclaren for an amazing race ((((:
oscarpiastri thank you Y/n! 🧡 ❤️ by author
landofan4 ok this is very cute and nice of her🥺🥺
fan1 ARE YOU STILL CRYING ? BECAUSE I AM DEFINITELY STILL CRYING
y/n.y/l started crying on lap 54 and haven't stopped since
fan2 new post from my fave lando norris fan account yay (also go lando!!!!!!)
user1 Well deserved 👏🏼👏🏼
landofan3 soy lago
y/n.y/l same
lnfour LFGGGG ❤️ by author
fan3 How many times do you think Y/n's going to mention Lando's win in the next week? Taking bets now
maxfewtrell It's the messy hair and smudged mascara for me
y/n.y/l knew i should've gone for the 'perfectly composed while crying' look instead 😔
landofan1 rip lando nowins: 2019-2024 ❤️ by author
landofan2 "you were scared? i wasn't. i was ok (laughs). thank you. i love you" lando 🥹🥹🥹
fan5 when did he say that? omg
landofan2 f1 posted a reel on their profile and you can hear him talking to her!
mclaren LANDO NORRIS IS A FORMULA 1 RACE WINNER 🏆
y/n.y/l I AM SO NOT CALM ABOUT THIS ??!!?
user2 i could've sworn i saw her at the race? why are they facetiming?
fan4 they could barely speak after the win tbh! this is probably a call in between interviews
user2 today's bottle smash hit different ❤️ by author
landonorris I've said this like a million times already today but I love you so much
y/n.y/l i love you i love you i love you i love you
y/n.y/l
Liked by pietra.pilao and 1.809.896 others
y/n.y/l if he was yours, you'd do the same without apologising... new single 'bragger' out now!!!! 💋💋
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fan6 WHAT HAPPENED TO HWLLO ?? HOW ARE YIU ??
y/n.y/l 🫢🫢
fan1 "he's just too damn good not to mention" .....................i mean she is right we'll give that to her ❤️ by author
landofan1 USING THESE SPECIFIC PICS OF LANDO TO ANNOUNCE THE RELEASE OF A SINGLE ABOUT BRAGGING ABOUT HIM IS WILD !!!!
landofan5 that last video is doing things to me.........
landonorris i'm confused does anyone know who this is about?
y/n.y/l no idea 🤷🏽♀️ but let me know if you find out xx
landofan4 apparently about some guy named bob?? I'm not sure
fan8 HAHAHA I LOVE THEM
fan2 she really wanted to make sure she'd made her point clear with this dump omfg
fan3 her point: she has a hot bf and we don't
user1 Well played, Y/N. Well played. 🥸
fracisca.cgomes On repeat ❤️❤️
y/n.y/l lindaaaaaaa ❤️
landofan2 knowing all she's saying is about lando makes the song x1000 times better
fan7 so she saw the tweets... 😐
y/n.y/l i saw everything 👀 they were actually hard to miss hahaha
user2 "i understand why you would want him (i don't mind)" queen behaviour !!!!!! 👑👑
fan4 So this is how she gets back at us for all the teasing lol not complaining at all
landofan3 I can't believe this new song is actually inspired by the fans' teasing about Lando!!🤣
fan5 we joked, she delivered!!! bragger is actually a banger👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼
#singer!reader#social media au#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 smau#lando norris x reader#lando norris x y/n#lando norris smau
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Hi Jonny! Re: your latest post, did you mean that guest writers are also involved with the metaplot portions (with Alice and Sam ans Gwen and the others), or just the case file/"statement" parts? Inquiring minds would like to know. Really enjoying Protocol so far!
So, the detailed answer to this is very complicated, as it's all about parallel production pipelines and varies quite a lot between guest writers, as they all had different schedules/availability. We'll probably dive into it more on a Q&A at some point.
Broadly speaking, the shape and story of the overall metaplot is all me and Alex. We'd have loved to get some of the guest writers involved for a bit more of a writers room feel, but time and logistics simply didn't allow for it. Once we'd sculpted the seasons, we sent out the episode briefs to the guest writers, along with a prompt for a possible case. Some of them used the prompts, others created the whole thing themselves. A few did a pass at the dialogue scenes, but most of these ended up being heavily redone by me and Alex when we were going through and weaving the story together and making the characterisation consistent (it was all being written pretty much simultaneously, so when drafting the guest writers really only had the pilot to go on in terms of writing the cast). Then there were a couple rounds of feedback/edits for the cases, and me and Alex adding in bits to tie the case into the metaplot a bit more and make the tone a bit more cohesive.
Like I say, it varied heavily based on the guest writer (and which of myself or Alex had the first edit pass on an episode), but if you're trying to guess how likely any given event/line was to be written by someone specific, the chances are generally something like
Overall story: 50% Jonny, 50% Alex
"Written by Jonny" episode: 80% Jonny, 20% Alex
"Written by Alex"episode: 80% Alex, 20% Jonny
Guest writer episode (case): 80% Guest, 10% Alex, 10% Jonny
Guest writer episode (scenes): 20% Guest, 40% Alex, 40% Jonny
To be clear, these numbers are purely illustrative, but they give you a rough idea of at least how it seemed from my end. April's been doing a fantastic job of organising the production, so apologies to her if I'm talking fully out my ass :p
#plucking numbers out of the air#collaborative writing is complicated#but very rewarding#tmagp#the magnus protocol
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it's a bad idea (fuck it, it's fine) — part 1
Summary: your housemates give you an offer you can't refuse. What's the worst that could happen?
Pairing: Jenson Button x fem!reader, Fernando Alonso x fem!reader, Sebastian Vettel x fem!reader, Mark Webber x fem!reader
Warnings: smut, dirty talk, mild degrading, oral (m and f receiving), face fucking, fingering, slight nipple play, hinting at m/m, mentions of free use, *gasp* and they were room mates
Word count: 1.9k
Part 1 of the Fuck It series
The arrangement was, frankly, absurd. Had the offer come from anyone other than Jenson, you would have kicked them so hard they wished you had punched them instead. Part of you hoped he would have forgotten what he had said while heavily under the influence of too much champagne, but luck was not on your side.
"Have you thought about my offer?" Jenson asks, innocently blowing on his coffee, making you choke on air.
"The offer in which I pay my rent by, wait let me check my notes. Ah, yes, 'fucking you'," you reply, voice a lot steadier than you feel. Because truth be told, it had been impossible to not fantasise about getting railed into next week by him- by any of them. Oh, you were well aware of how much your life had become the plot of a rom-com ever since your landlord decided to be an absolute greedy bastard. Become a live-in house sitter for 4 millionaires they said, it'll be fun they said. Liars.
"Oh come on, it'll be mutually beneficial," Jenson argued.
"Proud of you for using your big boy words, pretty boy but how exactly is this gonna end up in anything other than disaster?"
"He's hungover and a himbo, why are you bullying him?" Mark mutters, voice still rough with sleep as he literally picks you up and unceremoniously plops you down on top of the counter. There are days where you curse your small stature and his strength, especially when it leaves your brain stuttering to process getting manhandled.
"We'll set rules. All I'm saying is we're all adults-.." You can't help but snort at that. "Fine, whatever. I'm just saying that I've seen the way you look at them, seen the way your eyes flash with lust and I am pretty sure some truly filthy fantasies, and I know I can speak for all four of us when I say we would love to help you realise those. Also, we don't need your rent money and this is just so much more fun." Well then. You just got read for filth before even having had your morning coffee. Fuck him for seeing right through you.
"Where's your sense of adventure, nena?" Fernando comments, a wicked glint in his eyes.
"Right next to my 'I survived Multi-21' t-shirt," you mutter. It's a low blow, but getting bullied into sleeping with four drivers makes it hard to think.
Mark shoots you a look, eyebrow raised.
"The mouth on you," he comments, "Seb was very apologetic. Made it up to me in the best possible way. In fact, I should make you apologise to the both of us the same way, sweetheart. On your knees." He whispers the last part in your ear and you cannot contain the whimper that comes out at his thinly veiled threat.
“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Being made to kneel and take cock like the good little girl you are, hm?”
“Mark-..” You have no idea how to respond to that and keep your dignity in tact. You try to look away but Mark takes your chin between his forefinger and thumb.
“I asked you a question sweetheart. Are you gonna be a good girl for us?” His thumb tugs on your bottom lip and all rational thought leaves you as you nod.
“Mm, knew JB was right about you. Takes one to know one, I suppose.” You can hear a muffled what the fuck’s that supposed to mean? from the living room as Mark helps you down from the counter. You hadn’t even noticed the McLaren teammates had left the kitchen until just now.
“On your knees, sweetheart,” Mark nudges you and you sink down onto the floor. The small kitchen runner is the only thing protecting your knees from the cold hardwood floor, but the prospect of sore knees is quickly forgotten now that you’re at eye level with Mark’s crotch. You can clearly see the outline of his hardening cock against his shorts and it has your mouth watering. Mark chuckles as he notices the hunger in your eyes.
“You’re lucky Seb is out for a run. Or maybe I’m the lucky one, getting to fuck this mouth all by myself.” The whimper you let out is involuntarily as you eagerly watch him hook his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts, pushing them down far enough to free his cock. You scoot a little closer, taking him in your hand, tongue darting out to lick away the bead of pre-cum. Mark hisses, head thrown back and that’s all the encouragement you need to suck the tip into your mouth.
“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he says, sounding absolutely wrecked already despite you not even having done anything yet.
“You said something about fucking my mouth?” Mark looks down at you, pupils completely blown and he grins so wickedly, it leaves you breathless.
“Are you absolutely sure sweetheart?” As you nod in response, he gathers your hair into a ponytail in his fist, angling your face. “Alright then. Tap my thigh twice if it’s too much and I will stop, okay?”
“Okay,” you parrot, and move your legs apart ever so slightly to stabilise yourself. Mark drags the tip of his cock across your lips and you open up for him. He slides in, careful to not immediately choke you. You relax your jaw as much as you can, but god it’s been so long since you last did this. Mark sets a slow rhythm, letting the both of you adjust. Looking up at him through your lashes, you can see how he’s trying to hold on to the last shreds of self control, and well. That just won’t do.
“Mark,” you say, slightly out of breath as you pull back, “you taunted me with using me. So for the love of God, fucking use me.” Mark chuckles and the sound has you aching. He tightens his grip on your hair and slides his cock back into your mouth. Resting your hands on his thighs, you close your eyes as he finally delivers on his promise. The sounds are obscene and if you had a functioning brain cell left, you would have been concerned about the two of you doing this in the kitchen, but as things stand, the only thing you can focus on is Mark’s throbbing cock inching down your throat. Forcing yourself to open your eyes, you look at him as you swallow around him.
“Fuck. Fuck. I’m not gonna last, sweetheart,” he groans, pulling back. You hollow your cheeks while taking deep breaths through your nose, pulling another string of curses from the Aussie. You can feel his cock throb as he grunts above you.
“Gonna-.. Fuck.. So good, you feel so fucking good..” he mumbles, and throws his head back as he comes.
“You better not swallow, Schatzi,” comes a voice from the doorway. Who are you to disobey? Mark pulls out carefully, tucking himself back into his shorts while Sebastian helps you up from the floor. He carries you bridal style into the living room, placing you down on the couch next to Fernando.
“Show Nando, baby,” Sebastian all but coos and you carefully open your mouth. The underlying relationships? Questionmark? between your housemates makes your head spin, but judging by the way Fernando’s eyes darken, Sebastian knows something about the Spaniard you don’t.
“Can I kiss you, nena?” he asks and all you can do is nod. Fernando cradles your cheek, pressing an almost chaste kiss against your lips before he runs his tongue over the seam of your lips. The moan he lets out as he tastes Mark on your tongue has you throbbing. When you break apart to catch some air, Sebastian leans closer and licks away the few drops of cum that spilled when Fernando kissed you. Am I dreaming? you can’t help but wonder. Out loud apparently.
“Very much awake, doll,” Jenson grins as he kneels in front of you, “Something tells me you’re absolutely soaking. Mind if I give a hand? I do so love making people come with my mouth,” he adds and you’re quick to raise your hips so he can pull down your panties, much to Jenson’s amusement. He pushes your oversized shirt up higher and parts your legs. Sebastian moves your face so he can steal a kiss and you moan into his mouth as Jenson drags the flat of his tongue over your oh so sensitive clit. Their hands are everywhere it feels like. You’re pretty sure Fernando has one up your shirt, teasing your nipple while he kisses your neck. Jenson’s are curled around the inside of your thighs as he holds you open for him while Sebastian has one hand on your cheek as he kisses you; the other mirrors Fernando’s. Needing something to hold on to, you bury a hand in Jenson’s hair. He sucks your clit into his mouth, moaning against your cunt as you tug. Breaking the kiss, you throw your head back with a moan of your own while you grind against Jenson’s tongue.
“Need.. Fingers.. Please, Jenson, need your-.. Fuck, oh God..” Despite your incoherent state, Jenson understands what it is you’re asking of him as he carefully slides two of his long fingers inside of you. Sebastian and Fernando manage to strip you of your t-shirt, both of them taking a nipple into their mouth.
“I’m so-.. So close.. I’m gonna cum, please can I cum?” you whimper. Fernando mutters a yes against your skin and something snaps; Your back arches as your orgasm hits you and for a moment you forget how to breathe. The loss of Jenson’s fingers makes you whine but your housemates more than make up for it when Fernando grabs his wrist in order to bring Jenson’s fingers to his mouth, moaning as he tastes you.
“Just as I thought, you taste delicious nena,” the Spaniard comments with a grin. These men will be the death of me, you can’t help but think while Seb accepts the glass of water Mark hands him. The German driver helps you take a few sips as you slowly return into your body. Something tells you that this only scratches the surface of their underlying dynamics and you are dying to delve deeper.
“Told you it’d be mutually beneficial,” Jenson jokes, pulling you from your thoughts.
“God, I hate that I’m saying this because your ego is fucking big enough as is-,” you start only for Jenson to interrupt with a that’s not the only thing that’s big, doll which makes you roll your eyes.
“I was gonna agree to your plan, idiot. You proved your point. Twice over. I- eh.. I can see the appeal,” you continue before downing the last of the water. The four men share a look that you can’t quite decipher and it makes you wonder: just what did you exactly sign up for? You pull your shirt back on, suddenly very aware of the fact you’re naked, needing something to act as a barrier between you and this crazy idea.
“How about we discuss the details after breakfast? Don’t know about you, but I am starving,” Mark breaks the silence. You nod gratefully and let Sebastian pull you to your feet. A part of you is excited to see where this.. arrangement will lead you, but you’re also apprehensive that you might be about to bite off far more than you can chew.
Welp. Here we go I guess. Updates are gonna be slow on this, so please temper your expectations. Ideas have been brain stormed, things are brewing in the ol' noggin, I just gotta write it 🥲
Massive shoutout to @curiousthyme and @feralnando for helping me brain rot about this and for holding my hand while I descent even further into chaos. This whole part was written while listening to Hozier's Too Sweet and Ethel Cain's Gibson Girl on repeat, so feel free to do with that information as you please
Please let me know what you think. Your comments, likes and tags mean the world to me 💜
taglist
@2pagenumb @dannyramirezwife @daydreaminlewis @emlynblack @forza55 @jaimeleannavanlloman @mehrmonga @szobosz @raizelchrysanderoctavius @whoreforeveryon
#f1 fanfic#mark webber x reader#mark webber x you#fernando alonso x reader#fernando alonso x you#sebastian vettel x reader#sebastian vettel x you#jenson button x reader#jenson button x you#mark webber smut#fernando alonso smut#jenson button smut#sebastian vettel smut#fuck it fic
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How would it have gone differently if Reader didn't try to be an "overachiever" and instead just stayed quiet and didn't interact with anyone besides Alfred until they left? Their room they left being mostly blank, with only the music journals? Giving up on trying to get their attention.
I think what's so funny about this ask, to me, is that I already have a concept like this written down (along with 3 others since the current reader I'm writing for the "Not [ ]" series is one of them but with a few missing details), so this'll be fun!
I guess it generally goes how you'd expect? Which is different for the most part, but the reader's perspective on what's happening is also different.
Granted, I would like to point out that, at least for this particular concept and the idea I have for it of how this would go, does have more stuff going on pre-Batfam that do affect how they perceive what's happening, and that's what makes things interesting in my opinion. Because someone can be naturally shy or just overall more reserved either out of nature or because they feel a certain way, but still feel bad about being neglected and, despite their lack of effort, feel that pain just as much as someone who's tried. Which is valid! Besides, someone's definition of 'trying' can vary as well.
Everyone should have a chance to have a family, and form some kind of connection with people. Just because you aren't going above and beyond for one person, doesn't mean you're undeserving of certain things. Especially not a chance to have a family, or feel like you have one. That's what I think anyway.
Nevertheless, back to the reader!
From the original concept, I will be tweaking a few things to fit the ask, but the same general outcome remains! Though again, the reader's perspective on things is a tad different. But how about this- I'll show two versions of the reader.
One that's quiet and more reserved because they gave up much earlier, or just generally hopeless really early on because maybe they felt as if anything they'd do just wouldn't be enough, who'll be accurately named Quiet!Reader. With the other being more closely related to the concept I wrote for such an idea, that we'll refer to as Waiting!Reader.
Quiet!Reader would change up things quite a bit! I won't lie!
They might already have bad self-esteem that's quick to develop at the start of things, which is something to note as that doesn't get better with time. They grow more cold and distant from the family at a quicker pace both from personal and external reasons.
Put simply, they don't feel good enough, and even if they did- anything they could do to get the Batfam's attention would never be enough in their eyes. To which, they see very early on when they try to engage and do some things with the family, only to be turned down. What doesn't help is when Quiet!Reader sees Damian get adopted and almost immediately showered with love, (compared to them) and that really cements some ideas that were already developing in their head about the family.
When Damian comes into the picture, they feel replaced. Seeing him as someone to fill in the 'youngest Wayne' role instead of them, so that Bruce and the others actually have someone to acknowledge for such a title. Just someone else to further take away the little they had.
So, they further step out of the way, glaring at the Batfam with tired eyes before that eventually stops too. Envy clawing at their heart, hatred being sent through waves of pain all throughout their body. Hurt unmatched. Yet they still remain invisible. Quiet as ever. Unnoticed. Everything they ever felt dies down, and forms a cold numbness that they begin to associate with the family.
Maybe through that, they feel closer to the family in some twisted way. Now just as cold as them. Just as talkative, and just as engaging. Almost mirroring them, but they're honest about how they feel. Honest about what they think, and therefore better. At least when compared to the Batfam- and to them, even if it wasn't a high bar to reach anyway, at least it counts for something.
It was never Damian's fault, or really about Damian at all. It could've been anyone else and Quiet!Reader would've still reacted the same way, they know that. Though just seeing the Batfam show love and care to him and not them just makes them feel... worse.
Clearly they're capable of love, and can notice new additions to the family (to which they may have mostly believed that the Batfam's neglect was just something the family did for whatever reason, and thought that them being the youngest had something to do with it for a while) and that breaks the reader. It doesn't hurt, not as much as it would've, maybe, but whatever hurt is there dies down quickly as Quiet!Reader, well, quietly accepts their fate.
The Batfam clearly wants nothing to do with them, so why should they try to do all of these things for them? It's simple, they shouldn't. So they don't. Quiet!Reader gives up, and continues to live their life without them.
The Manor just becomes a place they sleep in, and nothing else. It isn't anything close to a home, and not even Alfred can help with that.
It's because of that little fact, however, that Quiet!Reader leaves much sooner than the reader in the "Not [ ]" series. Maybe once they get a friend they can trust, they essentially end up living with said friend, hence why their room remains so empty. The notebooks they even keep in the room they have in the Manor is from when they were way younger, instead of just being from a few months ago or so. We're talking years since Quiet!Reader has touched those things now.
Maybe they do 'officially' leave a month or so before they usually would as an overachiever in the "Not [ ]" series, having only bothered to return so often before because of Alfred. Though even then, they'd forget to return most nights- only being reminded to even try and go back once Alfred would personally call them, and ask them where they were.
However now, after a while of just the time between them basically living with their friend and sleeping at the manor, they stop returning altogether. Though this time around they instead personally go to Alfred to say they're goodbyes. Not explaining much, but just saying that while they might still try to come and visit him sometimes, they don't live in the Manor anymore. Alfred already knows this, and the embrace they share fully hammers in that fact.
Yet when Quiet!Reader turns away, and leaves the Manor for good- even through the front door at that. Alfred can't help but just... miss them already.
You see, while Quiet!Reader is indeed quieter and more reserved, especially towards the Batfam, with Alfred really being the only exception, they still made music.
Maybe they didn't have as many concerts or physical, grand, live performances compared to the reader in the "Not [ ]" series, they not only started earlier, but may have actually started out on a social platform such a youtube. They really started out small, but were able to find and start their passion much earlier!
Most of what they played was when they were in the Manor, but slowly they started to get involved with things music related outside of the Manor and in Gotham- and from there were able to build themselves up even more. Hell, I'd even say that Quiet!Reader is a little more well-known and popular than the reader in the "Not [ ]" series because of the amount of extra time they dedicated to their passion.
So basically, Alfred this time around has more recordings and such of Quiet!Reader actually doing something they love than with the one in the series. However! Funnily enough, they're gone for a shorter amount of time despite having left earlier than normal.
Alfred is just, extra fed up with this nonsense, and so pulls his tricks more early on, but also make them hit harder.
He doesn't clean Quiet!Reader's room to show how long they've been gone, adding onto the emptiness and almost abandoned feeling the room itself gives off because of how bare and empty it is. They're music haunts the halls, subtle, sure, but still noticeable- especially to those who are hyper aware all the time. Pictures of Quiet!Reader and Alfred begin to be hung up, and if he can manage- some with Quiet!Reader and their friends during important parts of their life.
No one is safe from the guilt and anguish Alfred seeks to cause to not only have the Batfam look for you, but most importantly, to finally notice you.
Let's just say, things work out a little too well.
---
As for Waiting!Reader? Oh man, I've been wanting to rant about them for a while!
Unlike the reader in the "Not [ ]" series and Quiet!Reader, Waiting!Reader had some semblance of a life before getting adopted into the Batfam. Though the idea and character themself isn't musically inclined/involved in music, or even all that interested in music for that matter- for the sake of this ask, lets say they are!
I won't dabble too much into the life Waiting!Reader had before the Batfam, as if I do end up writing them I'd also like to keep some details vague (for the sake of leaving it up to interpretation and everything), but just know that during the time they were still with their original family, they were essentially taught that they should 'wait their turn', and eventually their parents would spend time with them and care for them. Hence the little name I've given them.
So! When they get to the Manor and are officially adopted, only to be neglected and ignored during their first few attempts- because of their young age, they immediately think "oh! they're just like mom and dad!" So they 'wait' for 'their turn', believing that eventually, should they wait long enough, they'll be rewarded with bonding and such from the Batfam just as they were with their previous parents.
This mindset changes what they do as well, as Waiting!Reader even goes out of their way to not bother anyone, or "get in the way" of whatever they could be doing. Waiting!Reader treats the situation so much like their previous home life, that sometimes they might even forget that the Batfam are completely different people from their parents. The only real difference that they can think of is that they're not acknowledged at all and it seems like their 'turn' never comes. Though for a while that doesn't get them down. The Batfam is busy like they're parents were! Waiting!Reader is sure that when things die down then they'll have their time.
... Hopefully.
I can imagine that part of the reason why Waiting!Reader holds on to hope for so long is because, again, their own parents constantly reassured them that they would have their time eventually. That if they behaved, and stayed out of the way, then they would go somewhere fun with their parents and essentially be rewarded for their efforts. They were conditioned to wait, to be patient, and just comply until those around them decided to actually take care of them, and spend time with them.
Of course, as they grow up the reality of the situation does hit them eventually, but during that time they do try.
Waiting!Reader helps Alfred around the house, and so they mostly bond over doing chores, among other things. They are also more mindful, and try to keep the amount of noise they back down— so they actually don't play at the Manor all that often, and instead play literally anywhere else. If and when they do play outside, around the area of the Manor like in the gardens or something, they make sure no one is around before even thinking of playing.
Alfred does help them break a few of their habits that they got while living with their parents, but the one thing he can't seem to 'fix' is how absolutely quiet Waiting!Reader is when they walk around. Which, as on can imagine, doesn't exactly help in a situation where the whole family, except for the butler, is neglecting you.
The amount of times Waiting!Reader has caught Alfred off guard is more then you'd think for someone that works with the Dark Knight, and his various sidekicks and such, over the years. Which does say something, sure, but it's also funny!
Regardless, similar to Quiet!Reader, Waiting!Reader is able to start their musical career earlier than normal, and thuse becomes a little more popular than they would originally. However, they're more known for their live performances and giving back to the community. Seemingly just like Bruce as they attend charity event after charity event, and try to do good by the people.
Waiting!Reader also does genuinely try to become a vigilante as well, but they do so in a way where they only take care of the smaller/medium guys, and leave the bigger ones to the rest of the Batfam. This is because they want to remove possible distractions for their family, and while they would try to take on "bigger guys", they don't think they're skilled enough or experienced enough to even think about it. So they don't even try. (They also don't have the same theme as the Batfam- since they don't want to 'ruin' their reputation with what they're doing or something. Which does hell them further detach themself from the family later on.)
I'd say that with Waiting!Reader, the difference between them and the Batfam is more clear to them? Like, to them, the Batfam are just so good at what they do that they have no hope of reaching them. So instead of trying to reach for them, they just do their own thing and try to help in their own way.
Because Waiting!Reader takes care of smaller guys, they are kind of closer to Waiting!Reader as a vigilante.
The best way I can put it is that while the community trusts Batman and the members of the Batfam to save their city, they trust Waiting!Reader to save their homes.
So basically- Batfam is the bigger picture while Waiting!Reader focuses on the smaller picture.
Nevertheless! Also like Quiet!Reader, Waiting!Reader actually leaves earlier. Except when they leave, they leave.
Waiting!Reader straight up leaves Gotham City to attend the college that they want to go to, in an area that has more opportunity for them, that isn't close to where the Batfam lives or patrols.
So they not only leave earlier, but it also takes the Batfam longer to find them. Especially because Waiting!Reader does still do some things in Gotham, they just don't live there anymore.
I feel like out of all three readers, Waiting!Reader definitely feels like the kind of person that someone would assume is some kind of "Phantom of the Wayne Manor," y'know?
So Alfred definitely tries to make the Batfam feel bad like he does with Quiet!Reader. Except how anyone in the Batfam is reminded that Waiting!Reader even exists, and that they've been gone for a while now is through a letter that is accidentally sent to the Wayne Manor from one of Waiting!Reader's fans. From there, some research does start and the more the Batfam learns, the more they want to go and find the reader- you know the deal.
I hope this answered your question even if I really did ramble on this time- if you'd like me to clarify anything or go into more detail on a specific part, feel free to send in an ask!
#platonic yandere batfam#yandere batfam#gn reader#sibling reader#yandere dc#yandere x gn reader#platonic yandere#yandere alfred#neglected reader#talking daydreams#yandere batman
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PLS write me a headcannon of lo'ak and neteyam reacting to another person trying to court their girl !!
THAT'S MY GIRL !
a/n — u always have the best ideas istg / also i didnt proof read this i got lazy 😭
—
NETEYAM :
- he was pretty confident, if he were to say so himself
- you liked him and he liked you, it was simple really.
- it had been that way for years, and you guys thought your relationship with each other was pretty public, everyone knowing about you two
- clearly, you both were wrong.
- because you had caught the eye of another na'vi, unknowingly
- yorutro, was his name, and at first you truly believed he was just being friendly
- until he started gifting you shells, bracelets, tops, you name it.
- you accepted them, feeling bad, but would never wear them
- and you hadn't told neteyam yet, because you wanted to be sure your suspicions of him were correct
- and of course, the day you decided you were right, neteyam saw yorutro come up to you
- he hid at first, but the moment he saw the way the other male looked at you, he didn't waste time to break the meeting up.
"Hey!" Neteyam shouted, stomping his way over to you two. He tried his best to keep his temper hidden, flashing a flat smile. "What're you two doing here?"
Your eyes widened in shock, yet you were relieved. You glanced back and forth between the boys, giving Neteyam a subtle shrug when he raised an eye at the sight of you two together.
"Oh- um-" Yorutro stammered, alarmed at the sudden intrusion. "Just chatting." He finished, sending an all too nice smile Neteyam's way.
Noticing the boys nervous nature, Neteyam smirked, wrapping his arms around your figure. "Hey man, no worries. I was just looking for my girl."
You internally facepalmed, trying your best not to laugh at how Yorutro practically jumped at the words, scrambling to get out of your guys way. "Oh! That's fine! You can have her! I um- I had something I forgot about anyways. See you guys!"
Eyes following him, Neteyam waited until he was out of earshot to speak. "What a skxawng," he pressed a loving kiss to the top of your head. "Thinking he could steal my girl."
Leaning your head back you smiled up at him, shaking your head. "You know I'm yours, my love."
"And I am yours."
——
LO'AK :
- in everyone's defense, you and lo'ak were pretty much just a couple of best friends
- i mean, minus the kissing and cuddling and all that
- but you had more of a teasing relationship, neither of you were really that lovey dovey with each other out in public
- PDA just wasn't really your guys thing
- so who could blame the other na'vi trying to shoot his shot?
- enlo was a nice guy, really (at least you thought, lo'ak felt otherwise)
- but he definitely wasn't subtle about his intentions with you
- as much as you tried to give hints you didn't feel that way, he kept trying
- you told lo'ak, and while he requested to just tell him straight up to screw off, you felt that was mean, and wanted to let him down easily
- it took some convincing, but lo'ak agreed and you were on your way to meet enlo, lo'ak coming and watching from a close distance (just in case)
"y/n!" enlo called, striding over towards you.
'oh, eywa' you thought to yourself, flashing him a smile. "hi, enlo," you started, glancing around for lo'ak. when you met his eyes he gave you a reassuring smile, encouraging you to go on. "we need to talk."
"yes we do!" he agreed, cutting you off. "i actually had something really important to ask you."
uh oh.
"oh? what is it?" you played along, tail nervously flicking behind you.
"we'll, i've been thinking recently. i really enjoy your company. you're beautiful, and smart, and-"
"enlo," you cut him off, trying to save him from making this worse. "i'm flattered, really, i am. and i think you're a nice guy. but i'm with someone."
his expression hardened, looking down at you. "you're seeing who?"
"she's seeing me, dickhead." lo'ak called out, immediately standing by your side.
enlo looked between the two of you, almost offended. "seriously, you're choosing this five fingered freak over me?"
"hey!" you snapped, about to step up to him when lo'ak put an arm in front of you to stop you.
"don't worry y/n, i got this," he stated with a smug look, walking up to enlo. lo'ak definitely wasn't as tall as him, but he didn't show anything that suggested that bothered him. "so, enlo."
"y'know, having five fingers really has it's perks. you can hold more things, you have a better grip. oh! and you even have an extra finger for this." he smiled, flipping the taller boy off.
you facepalmed, trying not to laugh at your boyfriend's antics.
clearly, enlo didn't find it amusing, and shoved lo'ak harshly out of the way, beginning to walk off. "whatever, man. you can have the bitch."
"oh sorry, i forgot one thing about my hands! i can curl them up into this ball and-" lo'ak didn't even bother to finish his sentence before he landed a punch square to enlo's jaw, then another to his nose.
enlo, taken by surprise, didn't even have time to react while lo'ak took it to his advantage, still throwing punches at him and knocking him off his feet. and while you weren't fond of the words spoken of you, you didn't want lo'ak getting too carried away and getting into more trouble with his dad.
"lo'ak! that's enough." you called, and of course, he listened. he got off of the other male, sending a glare to him while he walked over to you.
enlo got up (barely), and held his nose, groaning in pain. "yeah, run back to y/n! can't even finish a fight." he pathetically spat at lo'ak, making him turn around to finish the fight until you stopped him.
"i got this one," you muttered, making your way back over to enlo. "clearly, he was trying to be nice, but since you're such a dickhead, i'll finish it for him." so you punched him right in the nose, making the boy stumble back in pain, both hands covering his bloody nose.
as you walked back over to lo'ak, he looked at you proudly, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.
"that's my girl."
—
a/n — lo'ak's was longer than intended whoops
#avatar x reader#neteyam sully#avatar#neteyam#neteyam fluff#neteyam sully x you#neteyam x reader#lo'ak sully#lo'ak#lo'ak fluff#lo'ak x y/n#lo'ak x reader#lo'ak headcanons#neteyam fic#neteyam imagine#neteyam headcanons#avatar fluff
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Can I request an Eddie and Roan, where she goes to Wayne's house and Eddie and Reader are there talking with Wayne but also planning what to get Roan for Christmas?
eddie and roan ♡ fem!reader
“Got it?”
Roan nods and hops up the last step to Uncle Wayne's while you and Eddie follow behind her. You're carrying a big Christmas cake held tight to your chest while Roan's father insists on carrying the drinks, an eighteen pack of glass cokes, enough to keep Wayne going for the next two weeks at least, less with help.
“Uncle Wayne!” Roan calls as she opens the door. It swings wide and hits the wall. She doesn't care. She's about to see Wayne for the first time in almost two weeks, and she missed him like crazy. Eddie almost got sick of hearing her ask when he'd be feeling better. “Uncle Wayne!”
The second shout is much more desperate.
Wayne appears in the curve behind the kitchen doorway to smile at her. “Hello, my chicken.”
Eddie snorts and slams the cokes down on the sideboard with a jumble of clinks. Wayne is a great dad, but he never called Eddie anything so saccharine. Bud and babe was about as good as it got. Roan gets all the sweet stuff, chicken and gorgeous and baby girl. It doesn't quite make Eddie jealous —nothing feels as secure in parenthood as knowing someone else loves your kid just as much as you do. Wayne would die for Roan without question. He can call her chicken if he likes.
Roan barrels across the carpet in her Mary Jane's and slams into his legs. He pulls her up into his chest, giving her hair a smattering of quick kisses, her dress bunched by his hugging arm. “It's so nice to see you, honey, I missed you!”
She grins and makes a pleased, almost feral sort of sound as she kisses his cheek. “I missed you too! We missed our sleepover!”
“Yes, we did. So I get you for two days, yes?”
“Yes!” she shouts, looking over her shoulder at you and Eddie to confirm.
Eddie holds up his now empty hands, though they don't stay that way for long as he takes the cake from you. “No arguments here.”
Roan laughs and squeezes herself under Wayne's chin. He wraps her up and keeps her, assessing you and Eddie with suspicious eyes. “How are you both doing?”
Eddie brushes past Wayne to put the cake on the table. Wayne isn't really asking Eddie; they know too much about one another having spent the last decade together, first by sharing a wall and now working side by side at the shop. Eddie's sure Wayne's sick to death of his complaining by now, but you're deserving of some sympathy for sure.
“She's getting better. Aren't you, sweet thing?” Eddie asks you.
“I'm fine,” you say, shooting Wayne a smile. “It was probably the same thing you had.”
“Yeah? He take care of you?”
“Always does. He's never let me down.” You cross your arms over your front. “But how are you doing?”
“I know you missed her,” Eddie interjects, “but if you're not feeling up to it, she doesn't have to stay all weekend.”
Wayne raises his eyebrows to protest. Roan beats him to it, yanking herself away from his cuddling to glare at the suggestion. “Dad, you said!”
“Said I'd see if he was up to it, yeah,” Eddie placates.
“I'm up to it.” Wayne gives Roan a soft smile. “We'll be good, right? Watch TV, eat hot dogs for breakfast, lunch, ‘n’ dinner. Dad's just being silly.”
Roan leans back into the hug, relieved, and Wayne pulls her head to his chest, covering her ear subtly. “Thought you needed to get some things? You know, from Santa?” he whispers, ‘Santa’ mouthed without sound.
“Yeah, if we knew what to get her,” Eddie says, brushing his hair behind his ears. “Kid's impossible. Asked Santa for a baby sister and a pet turtle.”
“What's wrong with that?”
“Wayne–”
“The turtle, I mean.” He nods at you apologetically.
You aren't offended at the idea of a baby sister being an easy gift, and you laugh at his correction. “We don't have room for the tank, I already checked.”
“She got the measuring tape out and everything.”
“What?” Wayne asks. “Put it outside.”
“It's not that easy,” Eddie sighs morosely. “They're very particular creatures.”
“It’ll suit you nicely, then.”
You laugh again. Roan wriggles to be put down, curious at the sound, though she wasn't as deafened as it seemed. “Santa will bring the tank, guys, that's how Santa works, and the turtle. We just need to move the couch,” she says simply.
“Where will we watch TV?” you ask.
“Here?” Roan suggests.
Eddie nudges Wayne in the side. “Looks like I'm moving back in after all.”
Coats are taken off, shoes stacked in a corner. Wayne makes everyone a cup of coffee and a sandwich, even Roan, though her coffee is milk with just a splash of coffee that she begs for but doesn't touch after the initial sip. Theories for where they might house and care for a pet turtle are shared through crumbs and foam moustaches, Wayne with a lap full of grandchild, and you with an armful of Eddie. He keeps turning to you to scan your face for signs of fatigue or sickness, eyes lingering, his hand resting and rubbing at the top of your thigh.
“We'll have to give up our room,” he suggests to you with an air of defeat. Despite his sombre tone, love lines his gaze. “When the turtle gets huge and wants to go back to the ocean, we'll have to fill our bedroom up with a swimming pool.”
Roan sits back guiltily. “Well, maybe not like that. Can the turtle sleep with me?”
“That could be fun. We'll get you a water bed,” you say, to Eddie's delight. He chokes on a handful of chips and needs to be whacked on the back lest he asphyxiate, and while you're still laughing at your own joke and his reaction, you pat him more gently on the back before passing him your full coke. “Here, handsome.”
Wayne's pretty sure his nephew's found his soulmate. “What about a tortoise instead?” he asks Roan, attempting to spare you both.
Roan pouts at her Uncle, confusion furrowing her thin brows. “What's the difference?”
“Couple hundred dollars?” Eddie asks.
Wayne kicks him under the table, but never hard enough to hurt. “Nothing much, chick. I'm sure Santa will figure it out.”
#eddie and roan#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson scenario#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfiction#dad!eddie munson#dad!eddie munson x reader#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things x reader#stranger things 4
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Throne of His Own
This fic is inspired & adapted from chapter 42 of A Court Of Mist And Fury, by Sarah J. Maas. Plot is original, but I took heavy influence from the events of that scene. <3
Leon Kennedy x Agent!Reader (she/her)
18+ MDNI !!
Summary: Being sent to a rural French village to go undercover with a band of vampires was strangely typical for your line of work— But, pretending to be lovers with another agent was anything but typical. Adapting yourself from a trained agent to a submissive lover unfolds in an unexpected series of events.
Word count: 10.2k
Content warnings: smut, AFAB anatomy, exhibitionism, penetrative sex, pet names, slightly mean possessive Leon (only when he has to be), alcohol consumption, typical violence and themes associated with resident evil (like mentions/ use of weapons).
a/n: somewhere, deep in the void, this was intended to be about 2k words, just a little one shot... but now here we are, lol. anyways thank you guys for being so patient, and thank u to my besties on here for being so kind and understanding. life is crazy, and truly i cannot keep up as consistently as i’d like to. i will always be here, even if i take some long breaks here & there. i love all u resident evil obsessed freaks, my life wouldn’t be the same without u xx also i finally decided to not be lazy & do the cute colored letters i hope u enjoy hehe
— PART I —
You peered out the window as you were driven through the endless sprawl of the snow-covered French countryside. A blur of powdery white pines occasionally broken up by small villages nestled into the hills.
Behind all those tall trees were the ragged peaks of the hulking French Alps, so expansive they nearly cut the sky in half. The beauty and stillness of winter was in full effect. Every little village had plumes of warming smoke gathering above the chimneys.
The agent driving the car interrupted your silent musing over the scenery. "You'll have to hike in. It's about 5 miles to the village, but we can't risk getting too close."
With one hand still on the wheel, he reached for the center console, pulled out a large envelope, and tossed it in your lap.
"There you'll find the information you need. Your partner, Leon Kennedy, has been undercover, posing as one of them."
Your voice is monotone, almost disinterested. "And who's them?"
"Some parasite-infected blood suckers. Leon has described them as a vampiric blood cult or something."
"And I'm just expected to waltz into all this? A blood cult? Really?"
"He talked about having a lover, a woman he returned home to, and at the time, it was just banter to fit in with them. But the cultists want to meet her. Either they're getting suspicious, or they want to play ball. Regardless, this served as a rather interesting opportunity to give Leon backup. So here you are."
Your knuckle rests below your bottom lip; you watch as the sun begins its descent below the icy mountain peaks.
So here I am.
You and one of the few other survivors of Raccoon City. You've met him, sure, but you have yet to work alongside him. But, you'd always known the day would come.
── ･ ｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──
You were driven as far as the meandering forest service road would allow. Ahead of you, where the road was no more, towering evergreens had taken over. Their limbs were heavy with packed snow, creating a dense cover over the forest. Only a sliver of the remaining purple-tinted dusk made it through the trees.
"This is where you're on your own. Here are the coordinates for where you'll meet up. Just stay north until you find an abandoned barn. That's where he'll be."
You nod in understanding, equipping your array of weapons—a rifle on your back, a pistol on your hip, and a machete on the other.
"We'll have you out before the end of the week," the agent said, helping you put your pack on.
"I'll count my blessings," your face was solemn as you faced the trees, attempting to size up what lay ahead.
"Well then, you're set. The best of luck to you." a sympathetic smile formed on the agent's lips as he stepped back into the car.
Without hesitation, you departed into the cold, dark wilderness.
── ･ ｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──
Seven miles may not have been a lot for you, but Seven miles of trekking through uncharted backcountry in the dark of winter was. You were chilled to the bone, and the numbness of your limbs limited your mobility ten-fold.
The thick undergrowth of the forest only got denser as you progressed, and your machete-wielding arm throbbed with every strike.
You stumbled up an embankment. With every step, loose, powdery snow slipped underneath your winter boots. Each sharp breath you took appeared as mist, illuminated by your headlamp.
As you finally reached the crest of the hill, you spotted a dilapidated barn at the base. It was nestled underneath a skeletal weeping willow tree. As you moved closer, you noticed half of its roof had caved in. Just one billow of wind could send the thing toppling.
You made your way down the slope, encroaching on the barn. You pulled out your pistol and dimmed your headlamp just to be safe.
Focusing on sound, you surveyed the area for footsteps, rustling, or speaking.
There was not a peep to be heard. Aside from the occasional whisper of wind, the surrounding forest was eerily quiet.
The crunch of the snow under your boots was frustratingly loud as you circled the barn's perimeter, searching for traps.
To your surprise, you peeked through a frosty window and saw the dull glow of a lantern, and a man sat beside it.
He was bundled head to toe in fur-lined clothing similar to your own. His eyes flicked up, and they met with yours. Without speaking, he signaled you in.
You couldn't recall what he looked like, but you remember a distinctly boyish look despite him being around your age when the incident happened. But the person who stood before you was a lot different.
This man is rugged and muscular. His cheekbones are much more pronounced, and his pale blue eyes are set deep in their sockets. Gentle yet battle-hardened. All that boyishness has dissipated.
"Leon," he said, stretching a gloved hand toward yours.
You stuttered your name through shivering lips, your hand meeting Leon's in a firm shake.
His tactful eyes scanned you, assumedly noting how cold you were.
"We really should get going. I've been holed up in a cabin only a few miles from here."
"Gladly, I'm freezing my ass off."
Without any further small talk, Leon leads the way, setting out once again for the dark, unforgiving woods.
── ･ ｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──
"Make yourself comfortable; I'll get a fire going," Leon said, opening the door for you before heading back outside for firewood.
You threw your pack onto the ground beside the fireplace. The room was completely dark, except for the small path illuminated by your headlamp.
You fumbled a matchbook out of your pocket and started to light the myriad of taper candles around the cabin.
Warm candlelight flooded the room, illuminating the interior of the gothic-style cabin. It was constructed of dark, ashy wood—the walls, the floor, the ceiling, and everything else.
Eclectic, mismatched carpets overlapped each other. And dark red curtains pooled along the ornate windows.
He called it a cabin, but the interior was rather grand.
Your heavy .22 caliber rifle had been digging into your back for hours, so you peeled it off with a relieving sigh. As you set it down on the wooden dining table, it made a hollow metallic clunk. You stripped off your other heavy layers onto the table, like your machete and belt, but kept on your fur-lined outerwear. Inside wasn't that much warmer.
With a heavy boot, Leon kicked open the front door, cradling wood in his forearms. With him, a gust of snow flurries blew into the cabin. He again kicked the door closed behind him and dumped the wood beside the fireplace.
"The snow is picking up again. You got here at the right time," Leon said, striking a match and tossing it into a pile of kindling inside the stone hearth.
You sit on a deep red Victorian-style couch in front of the fireplace. You sighed and kicked your boots up onto the coffee table.
"You call this place a cabin?" You say as your hand brushes the fine velvet upholstery of the couch.
"Well, when you see the rest of this village, you'll see why this place is considered just a cabin."
"These cultists must be the extravagant type then, huh?"
Leon piled wood onto the roaring fire, the crackling glow illumining his features. He stepped back from the heat and faced you, pulling off his heavy jacket. "Yeah, to say the least. They're greedy fuckers with bloodlines full of wealth. These gaudy homes just scratch the surface."
"So, now my real question is—how did you weasel your way in? How are you seriously posing as a cult member?" You stretched your shaky hands towards the fire, desperate for warmth. "You can't be serious that you, an American, just waltzed into a French village and are pretending to play cultist," you said with heavy speculation, your stern eyes meeting his.
Leon's lip ticked, calm eyes unbreaking from yours.
"They have plenty of outlets funneling within the United States, which gave us the perfect opening. We intercepted communications from a faction of theirs based in the States and used them as a bleed for information. Eventually, it was requested that they, we, send over a high-ranking nobility to come to France to one, act as a messenger, and two, be part of their transformation ritual."
"And that's where you came in?"
Leon's face went grave.
"Yeah, I trained to be and act like one of them. I learned every piece of information we know about this narcissistic vampire cult and its deviant religion. I've had to change everything about my life and thinking to be here. It's been months kissing ass in the hope of more information."
The room was becoming increasingly warm, and you started to feel claustrophobic in your winter clothing. You began to shed your layers of outerwear.
"That sounds awful. I can't believe you've made it out here, alone, for so long..." you paused for a moment but resumed, "but please, tell me that it has been worth it."
The question loomed thick in the air as you struggled with your boots, eventually kicking them off and walking to the fire to warm your cold, damp feet.
You could really get a good look at Leon here. He wore a tight black shirt that emphasized his muscular build and black cargo pants. His complexation looked soft against the warm firelight, juxtaposing the intensity of his prominent features.
He, too, seemed to be taking in your appearance as you sauntered toward the light. What he was thinking about was absolutely unknown, as he remained stone-faced.
"It has," he said, breaking the silence. "It has been worth it."
Leon's eyes drifted to his hands as if in a trance.
"What we now know about the cultists can completely change the course of this fight. But as I push forward, it's not going to be easy. I don't think this is going to end smoothly. That's why I needed backup." Leon cleared his throat. But there is a catch, too."
His eyes darted up to meet yours. You tensed, straightening your back, an inquisitive eyebrow raised.
"The king, that fucking king, wants me to bring my lover."
Although you were briefed on this situation prior, nothing could have prepared you for hearing it from him directly.
You laughed-- partly to ease the tension, but mainly because the mission-altering crux for the honored agent is his girlfriend.
"It's crazy, I know, but it couldn't be a more perfect invitation to bring another agent in." His cheeks flushed with the slightest hue of red.
"Please, tell me how you got into this situation in the first place". You tried to contain your laughter but failed.
Leon breathed an exasperated sigh.
"Well, the Lords, false prophets more like, banter about their romantic conquests. And well, after they all had drowned on about all the unsavory details, they looked at me, awaiting what story I had to tell."
"And what did you tell 'em?"
"I did what I had to do. I made up stories about having a girlfriend at home... And whatever else would keep them from asking too many questions."
You nodded.
"They also bring their women to the castle and flaunt them like furs. Sometimes, it's literally for their blood. Most of the time, it's just to stroke their own ego by having pretty women hanging off them." Leon added.
Of course, the power-hungry vampire kings saw women as conquests. Ultimately, it shouldn't surprising that it would come to this.
── ･ ｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──
It's been a long, long day.
You have all the information you need at this point, and the exhaustion is quickly overtaking you.
You yawn with outstretched arms, relaxing them to rub your heavy eyelids. Your body is finally warm, and you realize how well the bone-chilling cold kept you awake.
"I'll show you to your room," Leon said, helping you collect the things you dumped around the room. He led you down a darkened hallway to your bedroom.
"There are some clothes and a few other things you may need. If you need anything else, my room is just across the hall," he stated, setting your things down.
"Is there anything I need to know about tomorrow?" You added before Leon could step out of the room.
"You'll have the day to adjust. We'll go over the mission then. Just focus on resting up for now."
His lips came to a subtle smile, "Goodnight."
You smiled back, "Goodnight to you too."
You surveyed the room, starting with the armoire. It was full of clothes that looked like they were from another time: grand dresses with sheer, lacy fabrics of black and red with low sweeping necklines. There was also a long black hooded cape, corsets, and tall-heeled boots. The drawers below housed underwear and pajamas.
You slipped off your dingy clothes for a long black strappy nightgown from the armoire.
You hid your weapons around the room, your rifle, machete, and extra ammo in the closet, your knives in the vanity, and your pistol tucked under the mattress.
Like the rest of the decor, the bed was ornate. It was intricately carved out of the same ashwood as the cabin. The white sheets were plush and soft to the touch.
After securing your room, you crawled into bed. Falling almost immediately into sleep.
── ･ ｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──
Blinding white winter's light singed your vision as you woke up in a panic, a persistent cracking noise echoed from outside. It was a splintering sound as if someone was trying to get in.
You stealthily crawled out of bed and cracked open the bedroom curtain to peer outside. Nothing of interest could be seen, only the quiet woods blanketed by fresh snow.
The woods were now illuminated by sunshine, making them appear significantly less intimidating than last night. That didn't make them any less haunting, though.
Pistol in hand, You tiptoed through the house in search of Leon. First, you knocked on his bedroom door, and when he didn't answer, you investigated the rest of the house.
There were no signs of Leon, only the smell of something cooking and the sound of that grating thudding noise echoing through the house.
You silently opened the front door and exited barefoot, the coldness of the snow against your skin sending shivers up your spine. The satin fabric of your nightgown offered no protection from the elements.
One step at a time, you sneaked around the side of the house. The thudding got louder with each pace, and your heartbeat raced with adrenaline.
Carefully, You rounded the corner to the source of the noise. Arms straight, gun drawn.
Leon's eyes, bewildered, raked your figure, and he huffed a laugh, "Good morning, super cop. You must be freezing."
He looked down the barrel of the gun before you put it down.
He was just chopping wood.
Clearly, your senses were on high alert. You felt embarrassed that something so trivial and ordinary ticked those mental alarms.
Defensively, you retorted, "Well, I'm not the one chopping wood in a creepy vampire town first thing in the morning! For God's sake, I thought someone was breaking in or attacking!" You huffed, crossing your arms, a once panicked stare turning to one of annoyance.
Leon dropped the axe in the snow, reaching for a large piece of wood.
"And coming outside, in the dead of winter, wearing only a nightgown would have made a difference?" Leon said with a smirk, but it dropped quickly as he again reached for the axe to chop another piece of wood.
"And a gun! You seemed to have missed that part, and what else was I supposed to do? Spend 10 minutes putting my gear on?" You argued with a pout. Muscles tensed as adrenaline melted away.
You were still waking up and not in the mood to argue. But yes, you definitely could have kicked ass in your pajamas.
"Okay, okay, I promise I'm done pestering you. Breakfast is on the stove. You should go eat."
Begrudgingly, you walked back inside, mumbling your frustrations to yourself. It's safe to say you're not a fan of rude awakenings.
While lounging on the couch, you ate the breakfast of eggs and bacon Leon had prepared. You flipped through your logbook, filling in everything that happened in the last 24 hours.
Leon opened the front door, shaking off his snow-covered clothing before entering. He'd been out there for hours, and it was evident in the sweat that lingered down the side of his forehead.
Standing in the foyer, Leon peeled off his brown fur-lined bomber jacket and casually pulled the sweat-drenched black t-shirt over his head.
You watched him from where you sat on the couch, a bit confused as he acted as if no one was around.
You got a glimpse of the toned plane that was his back. He stretched his arms out, unintentionally giving you a better view. He rolled out his sore shoulder blades for a moment, and you discreetly watched from the corner of your eye.
You stifled whatever the fuck that feeling was and resumed your logbook.
In an attempt to find some grievance, you cleared your throat. It was subtle enough not to seem suspicious but clear enough that Leon definitely heard you.
But you're sure he was aware of you the entire time.
Leon walked toward the hallway and said, "I have a business to take care of at the castle; when I get back, we'll go over what's expected for the mission tomorrow. You'll find the notebook I've kept about these people on the bookshelf. You should skim it to familiarize yourself."
He walked into the bathroom without waiting for your reply. The only sound was the door shutting behind him.
Leon had left to take care of his end of the mission, and you remained alone in the cabin for the rest of the day.
You bathed and changed into real clothes, skipping over the elaborate dresses in favor of the spare black jeans and long-sleeve t-shirt you packed.
You left your bedroom to head to the living room but stopped at Leon's door adjacent to yours.
You were curious about what his room looked like, and rightfully so. He was rather serious, not letting off much about his personal side. Even while working, other agents, like Jill Valentine, had more outward displays of self-identity.
You wondered what the man behind the agent's identity was like, But you respectfully kept walking.
Typically, you're not overly curious about your cohorts, But people like Leon and Jill lived through the same tragedy you did. You often felt alone in your pain, But you found a sliver of comfort in knowing that you, in fact, were not.
You flipped through the very detailed notes Leon had taken. He explained the parasite they intended to use for "world domination," the pecking order amongst the rulers, detailed maps of the castle, and whatever else he found out.
── ･ ｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──
"Hey, wake up," Leon said gently, nudging your shoulder.
You woke up sitting on the floor, arms crossed and body hunched over the coffee table.
Through blurry vision, you saw Leon beside you, wearing a fancy white dress shirt and a tie loose around his neck.
"What time is it?" You mumbled, sitting up to stretch out your very numb legs.
"Late—I got back about an hour ago, I made dinner if you're hungry."
Leon reached out a hand, and you took it. Grunting as he helped you up.
"Yeah, I am," You replied, your stomach grumbling.
You sat at the dining table with Leon. He prepared grilled veggies and chicken for dinner, which was surprisingly good.
"How'd it go," you asked between bites.
"Fine, everything is going according to plan. We're all set for tomorrow," Leon replied,
"What exactly are we doing tomorrow?" you raised an eyebrow.
"I'm sure you saw those dresses in your room. You'll have to wear one, but it's easy from there. You'll stay quiet and follow my lead. You'll have to act like my girlfriend. But it will also be a good time to familiarize yourself with the castle and, you know, memorize the layout."
Leon took a sip of wine and offered you a gentle look, "Are you okay with that?"
You replied, "Of course I am. It's a pretty small price to pay to take these fuckers down." You flashed a cheeky grin before taking a sip of your wine. "We got this."
You continued to talk over dinner, going back and forth and sharing each other's backgrounds. You told Leon about your experience in Raccoon City— what had happened and how you'd escaped it.
But for you, It was surreal hearing about Leon's involvement in the incident. Hearing about the people he saved, the enemies he took down, and the sacrifices he made were… Comforting.
Comforting to know someone else could actually relate to you.
Comforting to know there is hope.
You know there are scars deep below the surface—you know that from experience. But meeting someone who still cares so much about helping others proves that those wounds do, in fact, heal.
You and Leon cleaned up the kitchen before saying goodnight and heading to your rooms for the night.
You lay in your plush bed, unable to sleep. Your mind is whirring with a frenzy of emotions. Your conversation with Leon is still sinking in. The nerves concerning tomorrow's mission stake their claim.
It's okay. It's okay.
You try to soothe yourself. Suppress whatever unreconciled emotions were brought up.
Just finish the mission.
— PART II —
A beautifully lavish Victorian-style ball gown adorned your body. It has a flowing tiered skirt constructed from deep, blood-red satin. The bodice was corseted tightly to your abdomen, pushing your breasts up so that they are nearly spilling out of the gown's low square neckline. The quarter sleeves fit tightly but poof out at your elbows with frilly lace. The whole ensemble is accented with black bows and delicate lacework.
You watched yourself in the vanity mirror as you carefully pinned your hair up. Enchanted by the unfamiliar person the mirror reflected back.
This wasn't you. But a princess.
A princess who has never killed or witnessed the mass extinction of innocent people. A princess who didn't have to give up her normal life against her will.
Although seeing yourself dressed up like the beautiful person you'll never be was strange. But maybe, battle-scarred government agents could wear pretty dresses, sometimes.
With your hair set in place, you head to the living room, where you are met by Leon in an equally uncharacteristic outfit.
He took in your appearance, a smile decorating his face. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words came out.
You filled the silence instead. "You look nice." You spoke softly.
He did look nice.
Leon wore a billowy white shirt with ruffles along the neckline. The plunging neckline had a small corset-style detail, and it was tucked into a pair of perfectly fitted black trousers.
Simple, but effectively good-looking. The fit of his clothes came off as rich and a little romantic. Well suited for a band of vampires.
"As do you," Leon said, voice deep and restricted.
You hid your face by looking down at your shoes, concealing the growing flush along your cheeks. "Thank you." You said in almost a whisper.
"Are you ready?" he asked, offering his arm to you.
You nod in affirmation and thread your arm through his.
Leon led you through a little stone path through the woods. At this time, it was only about an hour before dusk.
The combination of winter woods and the near-setting sun created an image of beautiful calm. If you were to let your mind wander, It would feel like you were on a date, taking a stroll through the forest.
"I told you these cultists were sick bastards, right?" Leon said too casually.
You nod, "Yes, you definitely mentioned that."
The dense woods begin to clear, and the path leads to a small village. At the horizon, the pointed spikes of a grand castle make a lethal appearance. You take it all in, honing yourself into a covert weapon. Descending into this "character" of unexpected harm.
"And you understand that how I'll behave tonight is all a part of the act?" Leon asks for your assurance one last time before entering the village.
Your heels land on the cobblestone that had been cleared of snow. The warm glow of the town's candlelight radiates as the sun begins to set.
Making brief eye contact with a villager, you squeeze Leon's arm a little tighter and murmur, "I could say the same to you, my lord." A wicked smile now painted your face.
Leon whispered lowly, "Glad to see you're committed to the bit."
As a pair, you two walked through the town's main pathway, a straight shot to the looming castle ahead. You noted that the townspeople were off.
Very, very off.
They behaved more like mindless zombies than people; their eyes glowed crimson red. Most of them just walked by idly, with no sense of purpose. Others stood hauntingly still, staring at you so intensely you felt it in your soul.
Even the farm animals that lingered on the streets were off. They walked erratically, and their eyes glowed, too.
This place gave you the creeps. Typical Umbrella.
Reaching the castle at last— It demanded your attention with its many oversized spires and massive arched windows. Light flowed red through the stained glass, adding to its intensity.
The snow-covered graveyard and cross-tipped spires informed you this wasn't just a castle but an unholy cathedral.
You had to walk through the graveyard to reach the entrance. You noted the tombstones engraved with outdated French names and dates as far back as the 1800s. It all added to the ancient terror surrounding the looming cathedral.
Upon arriving, the massive arched door began to creak open, and a man clad in a dark red suit greeted the two of you with a thick French accent. "Good evening, Sir Kennedy. We are so very pleased that you and your-" he paused, a sly smile forming, "madame, could make it."
Leon did not reply to the doorman.
He walked past with his head held high and eyes peering downwards. His look emanated superiority as if he had no interest in conversation with a man so far below him.
Leon grabbed your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours, guiding you up the curved stairs that dominated the foyer.
You passed servants who wore simple, white, floor-length dresses with aprons and bonnets. Each servant stopped in their tracks to bow their head as you, he, walked past.
The action sent chills down your spine.
What was the true extent of power he reached in this so-called monarchy?
You arrived at a grand arched doorway swirled with ornamental gold detailing. Two men opened the doors in unison, letting you through.
Elegant music flooded the huge open ballroom. Orchestral pianos and violins serenaded your ears.
People waltzed, people drank wine, people talked, and the vampires watched.
On the dais, the looming darkness of men sitting on ornate thrones watched the every move of the people below.
Every seat was occupied except for one.
Everything suddenly stopped. The music went silent, and the people parted, bowing their heads down.
Slowly, you two approached the dais, Standing hand in hand at the steps. The man who sat in the centermost seat smiled devilishly. "Glad you could make it, Lord Kennedy." His French accent was thick.
Leon bowed his head. "Of course, your majesty."
"Why would you want to miss a ball as extravagant, as special, as this one, anyways? Lord Kennedy, we wouldn't want to disappoint our guest, wouldn't we?"
The Lord ticked an eyebrow, reaching a pale, lanky hand to you.
Leon's breath seized but quickly relaxed as he let go of your hand, hinting for you to accept.
You gracefully walked the steps, rhythmically breathing in and out to offset the heavy heartbeat that accompanied each step. The air loomed cold and silent as the echoes of your footsteps filled the hall.
The King was pale as fresh snow, with icy blue veins protruding from his skin. His eyes were glowing red, and long black hair cascaded down his shoulders to his chest. He wore an ornate gold, black, and red suit and a crown topped his head. He looked as if he was once very handsome, but now, he is not so good-looking.
You rested your hand on him, avoiding eye contact. His freezing touch sent a shiver through you.
The King lowered his head and placed a prolonged kiss on the back of your hand. His left hand grabbed your upper arm, turning it so your wrist faced upward. He ran his fingers down your arm, resting on your wrist. A devilish grin formed on his thin lips, presumably from the pleasure in whatever he found in you.
His head raised, but his hand remained fixed on your wrist. You made eye contact this time. His gleaming eyes burrowing into yours.
You could feel your hot blood running against his cold touch. Your pulse filled the silence of the too-quiet ballroom. You wanted to run, but not without a fight, and get out of this Umbrella Corporation daymare.
"Ma chérie," he whispered into your skin.
There is no running. No fighting. Today, you must pretend.
Leon stood beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist, his eyes dark, looking down at the still-seated King.
"Isn't she beautiful?" Leon asked rhetorically, a bite in his tone.
The Lord laughed, releasing your hand.
"No need to be so overbearing, Leon. N'aie pas peur. Please sit and join your fellow nobility."
The last empty chair was his. You scanned the other taken thrones. Some of the men were already turned, marked distinctively by glowing, crimson eyes and a lifeless complexion.
Although some, like Leon, had not yet been turned.
From your reading the previous day, you learned that in the eyes of the cult immortality was a privilege, not a right. They believed one must earn that privilege by dedicated service to the organization before even being considered.
Leon took a seat, relaxing on his throne. You stood beside him awkwardly, not entirely knowing what to do. But, with a tap at your side, you figured it out.
You perched on Leon's lap, your billowy dress flowing over his legs and spilling like blood onto the marble floor. He wrapped a hand around your corseted abdomen, and the other rested in your lap.
Your heart raced a little harder.
"You must be in need of a drink." The King asked.
"Some music would be nice, too," Leon said with a scoff loud enough for musicians on the floor to hear.
The music resumed, and again, the bowing people began dancing. Still, it was finally replaced by the movement and energy of song and dance.
One of the white dress servants arrived with two glasses full of red wine upon a silver platter. Leon made no effort to grab them, so you took them both, passing one off to him.
Leon pressed his lips up to your ear, "drink up, baby," he whispered.
You almost forgot— even your whispers could be herd by the immortal's keen hearing. Every thing that was said, even in a murmur, had to be in line.
It was strange to hear him talk like that, but admittedly you weren't bothered. Although the closeness was unexpected, It's been a long time since you were this close to someone. It had been a year? Maybe two? Since you were at all intimate with another person.
It felt good. He radiated warmth, his touch was gentle, and his handsomeness unmatched.
You downed your glass while Leon sipped on his. His scanning eyes watched the crowd, occasionally flickering back to the King but always ending on you.
He admired as your painted lips caressed the edge of the fine crystal wine glass and how your throat bobbed with each drink.
He called for a refill and demanded more, which the servants promptly fulfilled, And they kept it coming. After every glass you two emptied, they refilled.
Amongst themselves, Leon and the vampire Lords talked about courtly business. and as they talked, Leon's large hands ran down your leg, pulling up your skirt, and exposing up to your knee.
They were talking about war, and all rather intense subject matters. But Leon's hand kept working higher up your legs. Petting and caressing every bit of exposed skin. The King couldn't look away, neither could the other lords, or even the people below.
He used you as a spectacle, to assert his dominance, and power over the rest of the court, and it worked. The commoners were afraid of him, and the lords respected him. He mastered the facade of villainous superiority that belittled all in its path. One that possessed his lover entirely and wanted the world to know it.
His lavish touch across your legs, mixed with the headiness of the wine, brought you to a euphoric state. Coaxed by his affection, you can't help but submit.
Your back arched into his abdomen, yearning for more touch. You could not recall any of the words spoken around you, only the ecstasy of his lips meeting your neck. A soft whisper of a kiss was all he gave you, but your breathing hitched, and your body heated.
You were damned. Damned for liking it as much as you did.
He paused for a moment. Only a minute's break in time, and he still left you internally begging like a dog.
"My, my, what a statement you're making, Lord Kennedy. You plan on sharing?" The King taunted, practically drooling at your bare, pawing legs.
You spoke for the first time the entire night, causing every member of the court's head (that wasn't already) to turn.
"No."
You shot an arrow through the King's fragile pride.
The King's lip twitched. "What a defiant whore you managed to fish up."
Leon laughed, grinning wildly, "Oh, well, you should see how well she obeys me." He patted your thigh in approval, placing an absolutely panty-drenching kiss along your neck.
The King rolled his eyes, but lords couldn't hide their amusement as they stifled back laughter.
Leon rested his knuckle under your chin, "Go on, my love, apologize."
The King retorted snappily, "There's no need for that."
Thank God.
You took an extra large drink of wine to ease the tension, falling back into Leon's warm chest.
They continued on as if nothing ever happened, talking about things you knew nothing about.
Leon listened, cool and aloof, but his hands satiated your need. He resumed the game of inching higher up your leg. His warm fingers trace dizzying circles along your inner thigh.
His calloused fingers felt rough and masculine against your velvet soft skin. He squeezed your thigh, accidentally eliciting a lusty whimper from you.
"You like that, don't you, pretty girl?" Leon's breath grazed along your neck, his lips taunting you mere centimeters away from your bare skin.
You pressed your back into the hardness of his body, a needy and desperate attempt for more—more of his lavish touch. You didn't even care who saw.
You turned a cheek, sharing Leon's darkened, sultry gaze. The usual warmth in his pale blue eyes was totally vacant. He observed you like prey, nothing more than a deer in the crosshairs.
The hand that rested on your waist dragged up to your face and cupped your jaw, his thumb petting your lip, transferring your red lipstick to his skin.
His grip on your thigh intensified, digging hard into your skin. Your lips parted with a soft gasp, and your legs opened wider in response to his touch.
Hunter and hunted.
Leon bit his lip as he slid his finger into your mouth. Your lips puckered pretty around his finger, and Leon watched in feral attraction as you teased him with the tip of your tongue. You oozed confidence and sultry submission, letting your doe eyes do the talking.
The lines between the act and reality truly blurred.
The way he touched you felt too real, too right. You craved more than just the teasing.
As if in an answer, Leon's hands migrated lower and lower down your abdomen. Finally, working to where you craved most. But, he couldn't find the proof of how good he made you feel. Your soaking wet underwear would be damning to your case.
In a desperate attempt, you arched your back, attempting to pull yourself away from his wandering touch. In turn, you could feel the unmistakable hardness in his pants pressing against your back.
Oh, he wanted you too. At this stage, you both should just be condemned.
The on-lookers watched from below as you pressed into Leon's length. You ground yourself against him. Your skin glowed with sweat, and strands of hair were falling from your updo and swept around your face.
There were no secrets in the way you felt; you practically radiated sex, intimacy, and everything in between.
One of Leon's hands dragged up your body and grasped your ribcage directly under your breast. The other rested on your collarbones. He pulled your ear to his lips and whispered, "Don't let it go to your head."
You swallowed, heart racing. "What?"
Leon's arrogant grin now pressed against your ear. "That every man in this room is imagining themselves in my place. Don't forget that you belong to me, darling."
"I would never-" You were cut short by Leon's grip tightening around your abdomen.
"Don't patronize me," he demanded, but his white-knuckle grip loosened and transformed into apologetic strokes down your side.
"Yes, my lord." Sweet and submissive.
The King seemed to approve, as marked by an appraising nod he shared with Leon.
A servant walked by, head hung low, and Leon's voice cracked like thunder. "Wine, now." Pure demand in his voice.
You drank the seemingly bottomless glasses of wine Leon ordered. You should have stopped, but you drank on to avoid any unfavorable conversations.
Tonight, you learned that French vampires love to drink.
The night grew late-- You, Leon, and the other Lords were drunker than sailors. Conversations of importance were divulged into off-topic chit-chat and banter. The people below slow-danced to the soft ballads that hummed through the castle.
It was a struggle to stay awake. All the wine, the music, the expectations, the teasing. It tired you out. Your head lay in Leon's chest, soaking up his sent-- Open sky and rugged woods. Your dainty hands gracefully stroked his exposed chest, painting little circles, occasionally your hands reached up to play with his pretty blonde hair. Leon languidly stroked your arm, head resting lazily to the side.
Leon sat up, shifting you with him, and cleared his throat, "My king, It's been a pleasure, but we should head back now."
"Why don't you just say the night? I would hate to see your poor madame walk all the way back to your... Maison, this late."
You and Leon exchanged a look; you weren't exactly sure if he had accounted for this in his plan. Your eyebrows threaded together, a look of annoyance and confusion, but Leon quickly turned away.
"What a hospitable offer, your highness." He responded eloquently. He knew that someone who was actually in his place would never reject an offer like that.
"It's the least I can do for you, Lord Kennedy; after all, you've been so dedicated to our cause." A sly villain-like smirk formed on the King's lips.
Leon politely bowed his head in acknowledgment.
The King snapped his fingers, and without an exchange of words, a servant was at the throne you and Leon shared.
You both stood up and followed her, hand in hand.
You passed by the other Lords still seated along the dais. Their prowling eyes raked your body as you walked by. Leon was right; you were in everyone's minds. Stripped bare and doing unspeakable things to them.
It repulsed you to be thirsted over by depraved vampire lords, but in some sacrilegious facet of your mind, you were flattered by it. You even walked in a way that accentuated your hips, teasing them just a little more.
You were just passing the King's throne when suddenly someone grabbed your arm. It was the King who had implored his icy hand around your arm, pulling you into him. You gasped as he bent you over the armrest of his throne and placed a kiss on your cheek. "Bonne nuit, ma chérie" He whispered in your ear.
He activated your desire to fight back; you wanted to place your hands around the scrawny King's neck and kill him right there. You could without any resistance, too.
But, you suppressed your urge. Sweet and submissive, you told yourself. You already got yourself in enough trouble with your previous stunt, best not to ruin it now.
"Goodnight, your Highness," you muttered back as dainty and feminine as you could manage.
The King released you, and as you took a step back, you were in Leon's chest; his arms were quick to wrap around you, like a knight in shining armor waiting for his princess.
As you left the dais, the people of the ballroom once again stopped dancing, and bowed as you and Leon walked through, escorted by the servant.
She showed you to your room, opened the door, bowed, and left promptly.
The room was entirely white and gold, similar in design to the rest of the castle, but featuring a giant bed in the middle of the room with a canopy of pooling gauzy fabric.
"What are we supposed to do now?" you whispered once the door was closed behind you.
Leon rubbed the temples of his forehead as if he had a headache, "I'm not sure. I didn't expect him to want us to stay the night."
You looked around the room, unsure of what to do now. "Should we escape?"
Leon peaked his head out the window, surveying the area, "That's an option, but risky," he muttered. "It would blow our cover when they inevitably found us gone. The plan was to kill the nobility a few days from now, on the full moon. That's when they're planning on turning one of the human lords immortal."
"Why does it have to be then? Can't it just be now? They're all drunk and lounging around, for God's sake!" You accidentally raised your voice, and Leon shushed you by pressing his finger to your lips.
"When they turn someone immortal, they have to use the parasite... The plan is to steal the parasite during the ceremony and then kill them. We need to bring it back to America so it can be studied.
But, I haven't been able to find where they store them; as far as I'm aware, only the King knows. That's why I've been waiting for the ceremony."
"So... We stay?" you said defeatedly.
"Unfortunately."
You looked around the room, rummaging through the wardrobe and the various drawers throughout. Everything was empty except for the Holy Bible in a desk drawer.
"You can have the bed, I'll take the couch." Leon offered kicking off his boots before sitting on the small white and gold couch.
"That couch is so small, you can have the bed." You tried to negotiate.
"No, no, it's all yours. I've slept on much worse than this." He said, stretching his legs out along the couch. It was too short for him, so his feet dangled off the armrest.
You sighed; there's no point in arguing.
"Well, I can't sleep in this dress. It weighs about 20lbs, and it's too damn hot."
"There was no spare clothes?" Leon asked.
"Nope."
Leon looked around the room, eyebrows stitched together in thought, before he resolved, "You can have my shirt."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, It's no trouble at all, really."
Leon remained where he was on the couch, eyes closed.
You stood on the other side of the room, fumbling with the corseting on your dress, unable to unlace it. "How the hell did I even get this on earlier?" you mumbled to yourself.
Leon's eyes perked open, watching you struggle. He cleared his throat, "Do you need help with that?"
You didn't answer but still struggled.
Leon took it upon himself to help you. He walked over and began unlacing the many rows of tight lacing along the back of your dress.
"Thank you," you said so very quietly.
"I wanted to apologize for earlier, I—"
You cut him off, "Don't—You don't have to apologize. I understand, truly."
Silence loomed over the room, and only the sound of fabric rustling filled the void. You tried to find the right words to say, but you came up empty-handed.
Leon reached the last eyelet, and you held the gown at the bust so it wouldn't fall off. Although you admittedly wouldn't mind if it did.
Your back was entirely exposed to him, only inches away from pressing against his chest. Your mind slipped— what if you took a step back? Let him do what you want him to do. Let him explore your body even more than he did earlier.
His strong hands could surely do a lot, and his pretty blonde hair would look great between your legs—
God damn.
Leon broke your silent daydream by taking off his white-ruffled shirt. He handed it off to you at your side, gentlemen-like.
He meandered back to the couch, resuming his position of outstretched legs along the cushions, closing his eyes.
You checked over your shoulder to ensure his eyes were closed, and then you let your dress fall to the ground.
You dawned Leon's shirt. The cottony fabric felt soft against your skin and smelled overwhelming like him, rugged and masculine.
In the mirror, you watched yourself let down your updo, letting your hair fall and combing it out with your fingers. Here is where you noticed that Leon's shirt is just a little too sheer.
The outline of your silhouette was vaguely noticeable through his airy shirt, but your nipples were definitely visible.
Oh well.
You folded up the gown and placed it at the foot of the bed atop the quilted velvet ottoman. You were about to get into bed before peaking one more glance at Leon.
He was statuesque in the way his body stretched along the couch. He had a hand atop his very defined abs, and his other arm dangled off the couch.
The faint blueish hue of the moon illuminated him in gentle light, it was the only light in the room, save for the single lit candle next to the bed.
Leon was so pretty in the way he slept. He looked so at peace, so beautiful, and so kissable.
It pained you to not invite him to your bed; maybe in another lifetime, you would have.
But you certainly could not let him sleep without a blanket or a pillow.
You peeled off the first blanket layer of your bed, grabbed one of the many over-filled pillows, and tiptoed to where Leon rested.
Gently, you set a folded blanket on the foot of Leon's bed, causing him to open his eyes.
"What are you doing?" Leon's mumble trailed off into a yawn.
You whispered, "I don't want you to get cold, so I'm giving you some of my blankets."
Leon smiled faintly. "Oh, I see…" he trailed off and then added, "Thanks for that."
You looked pretty; your hair and makeup were a mess but in all the right ways.
Leon noticed how pretty you were. How pretty you were in his shirt, with nothing else underneath.
"I hope this is enough for you."
"Yes, it's more than enough," he reassured.
"I'm going to head to my bed then, goodnight Leon."
He didn't show it, and you would never know it, but he loved how you said his name.
"Goodnight to you, too."
In that moment, time stood still. You couldn't walk away. You wanted to bask in the shared space of each other's gazes, bound by lust. Leon, too, made no attempt to break away.
You'll probably regret it later, but there is no harm in trying, right?
Instead of leaving, you bent down as if to pick something up, but you stopped when you reached his ear.
"Leon..." You whispered quietly.
"Yes?"
Your heartbeat raced so fast it felt like it was gonna jump out of your chest. "Do you really want me to go?"
Leon paused, raking his mind for the correct answer. "No."
He turned his head, pressing his forehead to yours, and resting his hand on the back of your neck, running his fingers through your hair.
"I didn't want to either," you said breathily.
He smiled and kissed you. The first real kiss you shared. It felt like a wave of warmth crashing down your body, every one of your instincts telling you yes. His lips were soft and gentle against your own.
"I couldn't stop thinking about you," Leon whispered into the kiss.
You replied, "Me neither."
Leon pulled you by your waist, sitting you on top of him, and deepened the kiss by grazing his tongue against yours. He tasted purely of wine.
Your hands ran desperately through Leon's hair as his hands caressed your ribcage down to your hips. His grasp settled onto your waist, stroking his thumbs along your ribs. You playfully bit his lip, praising the way he touched you.
Leon's lips broke away from yours, and they began to press small kisses down your cheek, and then your neck, and then your chest. Every single one felt like pure ecstasy against your skin.
Your arms wrapped around Leon's neck as you arched your back, pressing your chest deeper into his kiss. His grasp along your waist tightened with your movement.
He was aching and so hard in the confined trousers he still wore; Leon rocked you against himself while he made out with your chest.
You moaned with gasping breaths at the feeling of him rutting into you, your head falling back carelessly.
Leon's hand met the spots he kissed, dancing along the wet skin of your chest. His wandering fingers teased the outer edge of the shirt you wore, wanting to pull it down. His lips followed down the V of the shirt, But before he could do anything more, you raised your arms, slipping the shirt over your head.
You were entirely exposed to him, save for your underwear. Leon thanked you by pressing kisses along your pretty breasts, thumbs twirling around your hardened nipples. His lips met where his thumbs danced, puckering his lips around your nipples, stroking and sucking them with his tongue.
You gasped, nearly at the edge of becoming undone. Leon worshipped your breasts like his own personal deity, letting out low, strained moans.
You lost all sense of control, grinding yourself into Leon's bulging lap, getting off at the sensation of his cock twitching for you.
"More," You moaned as Leon released the suck on your nipple with a wet-sounding smack.
You pressed down on Leon's chest, pushing him into the couch.
God, you looked so lovely and desperate from Leon's perspective.
Your hands slipped between your legs, resting on the bulge that strained between them. You caressed him through the fabric, teasing him with a pouty smirk.
Leon's mouth gaped slightly, sucking in a breath as he watched you adore him. You nimbly unbuttoned his pants, pulling down the zipper.
Leon sat up and pushed you back so your legs wrapped around his waist. He stood up, picking you up with ease, and walked you to the bed, gently resting you onto the fortress of overstuffed pillows.
He took off his trousers before joining you, his protruding cock making a tent in his underwear.
"You're beautiful," Leon fawned at your figure before bending down to kiss your thighs. "I loved touching your legs earlier, darling," he added.
You're fully melting at his sugar-covered affections.
You sat up, taking Leon's head in your delicate hands with a devouring kiss. You pulled him back, so he laid on top of you. One of his arms embraced you, and the other brushed between your legs.
His fingers toyed with you, sweetly caressing you through your soaked underwear. You moaned into the kiss as Leon began tracing small circles over the fabric. His hands then nuzzled beneath your underwear, meeting your aching sex fully.
His calloused fingers lapped your cunt, but ended on your clit, circling it gently. You broke from his kiss, head arching back from the intensity of pleasure you felt. Leon licked his lips as he watched you fold under him. Leon tugged off your underwear, deepening your pleasure as he rubbed his fingers around your opening.
Your hands, in desperate need of touch, caressed the expanse of Leon's amazingly defined torso. It alone killed you, the sheer strength he possessed. He was trained into a lethal weapon, but man, did he feel so good.
From Leon's torso, you ventured lower, tugging at the waistband of his underwear. Leon's gaze met your begging doe eyes, pleading him for more.
With your help, he pulled off his underwear, releasing his pretty, throbbing cock. Your hand softly wrapped around his length, petting him slowly. Leon's breath hitched as you did so.
You wrapped a leg around Leon's waist, pulling yourself up to straddle him. Perched on his lap, you rested your soaking cunt onto the length of his cock. Leon's hands dug into your hips, grinding his himself against your folds.
"Leon," you gasped, soaking in the feeling of him beneath you.
He moaned, hungrily watching the way your bodies met.
He sat up, pressing his chest against your stomach, and pressed kisses along your breasts. As he did so, he lifted you up by the waist, giving himself just enough space to push his length into you.
Loudly, you whimpered as his length filled your entire cunt. You bounced yourself on Leon as he sucked your nipples.
Leon released you from his mouth, lying back down, fingers digging into your upper thighs as he fucked himself into you hard. Letting his entire length fill you up before pulling back.
You couldn't help your hopeless cries and moans as his pace picked up, fucking you like the world depended on it. Maybe it did.
You were a few forceful pumps away from reaching your peak, and as you forced yourself into him even deeper, Leon lifted you up by the waist, off of him.
Dazed, you whined, "Why."
He only responded by nudging you over onto your hands and knees, spreading your legs wide for himself.
Leon's cock pressed at your entrance while his hand toyed with your clit, teasing you. He so very slowly pushed himself in, making you feel every inch of his length as he entered you.
"Just like that," he hushed under a moan and then rammed his cock into you, building up speed, fucking you faster and faster.
Your nails dug into the bed sheets, reaching for something that does not exist. Leon smacked your ass with a deep moan as his tip reached even deeper inside of you.
The only noise filling the room was the sound of your skin clapping against his and your shared feverish moans.
"You feel so good," you cooed, pawing at the sheets. "I don't think I can last much longer."
He slowed down his pace, pulling his cock almost entirely out of you before inching himself back in. "You can last just a little longer for me, pretty girl."
"Okay, yes, please just fuck me harder," you pleaded. Grinding yourself on his length, desperate for more than he was giving.
"Well, since you asked so nicely," Leon groaned and fucked you so hard that the bed was shaking back and forth. His arm reached up from behind, grasping your neck in his hand. He was hunched over you, fingers squeezing your jaw as he plunged deeper and faster.
His teeth were clenched, and his breath was fast as he burrowed his throbbing cock so far into your cunt that you came completely undone, crying his name as you rode your climax out.
"Leon, Leon, Leon," you cried as your wetness dripped down his leg.
Leon's breath seized as he pulled himself out of you, resting his cock on the small of your back, spilling hot all over your skin.
His grasp loosened, trailing down your neck. His head rested on your back, reeling himself back from his climax.
You rested your body, splaying yourself along the bed. Leon got off of you and frantically looked around the room for something to wipe your back with. He settled on the blanket you had left for him on the couch, thinking to himself, their problem, not mine.
"Thanks," you giggled as he cleaned you off.
He crawled into bed, tucking into the massive billowy covers, and you did the same. You blew out the single candle next to the bedside, leaving only moonlight to douse the room.
Leon opened up his arm, beckoning you into his embrace.
You cuddled him, soaking up his scent and his warmth. All while relishing in the tingling euphoria your body felt.
"Goodnight, for real?" Leon said quietly, sleep heavy in his voice.
"Goodnight, for real, Leon." Your heavy lids shut, falling into sleep.
── ･ ｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──
You wake up on Leon's chest to a knock at the door. The morning sun singed the pounding headache induced by last night's wine-filled activities.
Leon woke up, too, wincing and rubbing his temples. He got out of bed, pulling on his underwear and pants.
Leon's hair was a disheveled mess, and the remnants of your lipstick still stained his neck and his cheek. He answered the door to one of the servants standing there.
She bowed, her thick French accent trembling. "Lord Kennedy, I apologize if I interrupted, but the king wants a word with you."
"Can you show me to the bath first? You can't seriously expect me to talk to him looking like this?" he sounded harsh, and you almost forgot about the character he had to play.
Her voice trembled. "Yes, of course, sir. Not that you look bad, but yes, I'll show you to the bath."
"And her too," the servant peaked her head through the doorway, under the arm that Leon propped himself up with, and saw you, sitting up in bed, covering your naked body with the duvet.
She immediately ducked back in line, "Yes, of course." she bowed her head once more.
Leon tossed you his shirt, which was lying on the ground beside the couch. Quickly put it on, and with a motion of his hand, Leon summoned you to him.
You acted shy, meekly hiding behind Leon.
"Follow me, My lord," The servant hushed, trailing you two down the hallway.
As you tiptoed down the hall, you were barefoot and more exposed than you cared to be. It felt slightly embarrassing, but there was no point in caring now, was there? At least you found amusement in a shirtless Leon.
The servant guided Leon to a bathroom for himself. She signaled him in with her hand while her head was low.
Before he entered, he added, looking down at the servant. "And get her a new dress, she can't go out looking like that... And she wouldn't be caught dead wearing her evening dress during the day, would she?" Leon sounded like an absolute asshole, but that was somehow amusing.
"Yes, my lord," She bowed for the 100th time.
He entered the bathing room, closing the door behind him, and the servant showed you to another bathroom.
── ･ ｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──
You bathed in a massive clawfoot tub, sweet floral soap washing off all the makeup and memories of last night.
You were not sure how to even feel about last night. You'd never slept with a coworker before; you barely sleep with anyone anymore. Is this going to make things awkward when you leave? Or are you to pretend nothing happened at all?
A servant knocked on the door, interrupting your silent pondering before letting herself in. She quietly hung a pretty cream-colored Victorian gown hanging behind the door.
"Madame, Lord Kennedy is speaking with the King. He has asked you to wait while they finish up. We prepared breakfast for you in the dining room in case they go long. When you're ready, the dining room is down the stairs and to the left."
Who are you kidding, there are more pressing issues ahead; you're bathing and being fed in a vampire cult's castle for God's sake.
"Thank you," you said sweetly.
The servant promptly left the bathroom with a bow.
Soon, you will eliminate these vile creatures and leave. You just have to tough it out a little longer. One more day of acting like a mild-tempered little plaything, and this will all be over.
part two coming soon xx
#thank you for reading <3#i've been so nervous to post this eek#i hope you like it#academy fics✨#throne of his own#leon kennedy#resident evil#leon kennedy smut#resident evil smut#leon kennedy x reader#leon x reader#leon kennedy x you#leon resident evil#leon kennedy fanfic
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Woo~ Hope you're ready to read Mr. Sunday taking you…
Up the ass- Psych, mfs-
Bet you didn't expect that one from me, huh? I know I normally don't write bottom character, but... I felt like it? I want to see this man wrecked.
I'm writing for both bottom Sunday and top Sunday on this glorious- checks time moonlit (I haven't checked outside and idk what day it is today) night. A little birdy told me she wanted to see bottom Sunday first. Call yourself out if you wanna. 😂
CW: COCK JUMPSCARE- (jk), anal (I mean- come on you knew this), choking (+a little breath play y'all please be sure to make this distinction when talking about it ijsige-), edging, overstimulation, discussion of safe-wording, dom/sub stuff, mention of subspace, spanking, toys (there's an anal plug and cock ring), degradation (+praise), nipple play, harness???, bondage, collaring, slight public play, some subbing from Sunday and some power bottoming (but we'll be focusing on him subbing- it's only really mentioned), prone bone+cat position(that's what it's called, right???)+mating press, some namecalling (ex: praising - good boy, degrading - slut, etc., etc.), crying during sex (the good kind), marking, begging, dumbification, mention of being ashamed but liking it, belly bulge, slight cumflation/excessive cum, excessive lube, objectification(I think???), talk of his cock being useless (it's sex talk I swear reader doesn't mean it-), ever so slight gaping, cumming dry
Reader gender: Gender neutral, but you can envision what you want. Reader has a dick/strap and the cum can be uhhh- Lube? Is that what people put in squirting straps-
If I forgot to add anything to the CW or made any typos- Whoops. You can let me know if you wanna~
Personally, I think Sunday would be a switch. How he leans is up to you. But when he's topping, I see him being more prone to domming. Opposite can be said of when he's bottoming. More likely to sub, but does have his moments when he wants to take control again.
While I do love a good "turnabout is fair play", I think that considering Sunday's need to be in control (…the leaks told me so-), he needs a clean cut decision on what you'd be doing that night. If you've decided together that he'd be topping and domming, don't try to take over please- It'd probably fray his nerves and make him upset. This is because for him, I imagine that he'd need to mentally prepare himself and get in the mindset to sub. He loves giving up the control he holds onto so tightly, but he needs to remind himself that it's okay. That he can trust you and that you'll make him feel so, so good for his concession.
But by god is he a vision when he does slip into that submissive mindset.
It'd start with you two showering together after a long day of Sunday upholding the harmony of Penacony and dealing with any issues that arose to threaten that peace. It's both a way to wind down and to ease him into letting you take care of him and allowing him to slowly loosen his grasp on his control.
Soft touches and soothing words whispered in his ears between the sounds of water with gentle hands petting his wings has him melting into you. The stiff set of his shoulders, imperceptible to all but you, relaxes and the tension drains from his body along with the water as it swirls down the drain.
It is also now that you take out the plug he'd been wearing today while he was away from home. The night before, he'd just finished with you when you two took to the shower and you helped him clean up before stretching his pretty hole with lubed, insistent but gentle fingers. The plug went in nicely after that, the little jeweled heart of the plug's flared base in your color marking him as yours.
He hides behind his wings as you pull at the plug, the toy tugging at his rim that you trace with a playful finger. But of course you nose at them until he lets you in to kiss him soothingly, his wings then pressed to your cheeks to hide you both from the spray of the shower head and the rest of the world. It's just you two here and now. He would gasp a little as the plug slid out to the widest part of the toy. Thin and perfectly groomed eyebrows would furrow while you play with him a little. Push it back in carefully before slowly pulling it back to the wide part again a few times before finally bringing it out fully, rewarding him with "good boy" and "thank you for indulging me" and more kisses.
Once you both are finally in bed, that's when the fun begins.
You both go over the rules again. What to do if he ever wants to stop, reminding him that ultimately he is still in control because he controls if they stop or not. He's the efficient and straightforward type. Traffic light system along with three firm taps if he couldn't talk was enough for him. (Let it be known that when you started dating him, he was not at all aware of these things. I think he'd have been inexperienced to sex beyond vanilla beforehand.)
Tonight, you two were going to use a lot of implements (?). You laid them out, making sure that they were the same as the ones you discussed using prior (yes I think Sunday needs for you two to explicitly discuss beforehand and honestly I agree with him unless you like spontaneity) and going over what you'd do with them to recheck with him that he was okay with it. Consent is sexy, folks.
You then kiss him while fixing the collar on him, checking that it wasn't too tight. He liked using a collar when subbing because it helped him reach subspace and was something the two of you trained him to relax more with when subbing. Helps calm his constantly racing thoughts. The next step is the harness. It's a pretty pale blue-grey that matches his soft hair and is worn with his legs through it and over his hips. They're there for easier handling on your part. The fact that they accentuate his soft, shapely ass and strong thighs is a very welcome bonus. When you put it on for him, please make sure to kiss up his legs all the way to his hipbones while you pull up the harness you helped him step into. Nibble on said hipbones a bit and kiss his navel, near dangerously close to his neglected cock that twitched cutely at your proximity to it. Once that's done you can lube up his hard-on with one cursory tug in order to slip on the cock ring. He won't be getting any more than that for most of the night.
You then have him on him hands and knees so you can get him in position and bind him. Tonight would be a simple set of padded cuffs. You would push between his shoulder blades to guide him to press his chest to the bed, leaning down to kiss down his spine while pulling his hands gently pull his hands behind his back to put the cuffs on. Be sure to praise him for being a good boy, for doing so well for you as you prepared him for the night.
Once that's done, press one more kiss to his body. This time on the top curve of his soft ass before lubing him up some more. It's never bad to be safe about things and there's more than enough chance that he needs more as it dried throughout the day.
Tease him by purposefully tapping on his prostate softly while making sure he's stretched enough and wet with lube coating his inner walls that clenched around your skilled fingers.
Keep going until he finally asks you in a small voice to get on with it. "Hm? What was that?" "You heard me-" "Only good boys get what they want and good boys ask for what they want." You aren't going to make him beg for it (yet), but you'll still make him ask for it like the good, polite boy you know he is.
(Okay we're switching styles here, folks.)
"F-fine… Please fuck me," Sunday said, words trailing of into a mumble. You knew what he was saying, but you didn't really hear it. "What was that? Couldn't hear you, baby." "I-" he angled his head to glare back at you with traces of a pout tugging at his lips. He then turned again to avoid your eyes that took in his face, pressed to the bed and needy. "…please fuck me." "Was that so hard, pretty boy? Since you asked…" You slipped your fingers out slow, letting him feel the drag of them against his sensitive walls as he gave a shuddering sigh. Sunday had attempted to keep it under wraps, but it still slipped out.
Your chuckle caused him to flush more, a wing attempting to hide his face despite you being unable to see it from this spot behind him.
As you slicked up your cock, you watched his hole twitch and cock sway as he unconsciously sunk his hips back more as if to ask you for your thick length in his hungry, empty hole. "Aeons you have the prettiest ass, you know that?" You then finally line yourself up, the head of your dick pressing to the still tight but prepped hole's rim as you slide your hands down the man's sides to grasp his hips before sliding fingers into the straps of the harness that cradled his slim hips.
The angelic man beneath you held his breath in anticipation for a moment. "Breathe, baby." And then you were pushing in, slowly spearing open that wet warmth. He gasped and jolted, but your hand was quick to hold him down by the back of his neck while the other kept an iron grip on the harness to keep his hips steady. A whine escaped Sunday as he attempted to close his legs at the delicious sensation of your cock sliding deep into him- Up to the hilt. Once you bottomed out, he was already panting like he was in heat and his wings that had flared and flexed while you had been pushing inside drooped to rest on the bed.
Your cock was so big- So deep in him he swore he could feel it in the back of his throat, his own cock drooling messily onto previously clean sheets where it hung between his legs. It throbbed as he finally had a clear enough mind to remember the cock ring you'd fastened onto his needy dick. "Such a good slut for me, taking everything." He felt a bold of shame, yet it made his cheeks redden with more than shame. Arousal. As he felt mixed feelings of pleasure and shame swirling in his gut, he also then felt something else in there- Your cock grinding heavily, steadily into him with hips rubbing against his plush ass.
Sunday allowed himself to lean into the pleasure you provided, hips moving back into your slow but strong humps forward. Your cock was sliding over his prostate so nicely and it had him closing his eyes to focus in on it. The arch of his back deepened, emphasizing the lean musculature of his back and bringing out the little dimples above his ass as you leaned forward to put more your weight into your grinding. The pressure inside him and on his neck had his eyes fluttering along with his wings. A moan startled out of him when you proceeded to nibble on said wings, teeth gently nibbling along the fragile bone in the first bend of the feathery appendage. Your hand moved from its spot holding the back of Sunday's neck to press him face first into the bedding moved to instead wrap around his throat, turning him towards you so you could steal a sloppy kiss from him. It was filthy and wet, the sounds of it joining the wet squelch and the slight sound of skin on skin as you began to thrust. His whine was swallowed up by your mouth and when you pulled back he looked a bit dazed, uncomprehending eyes looking at the string of saliva between your lips and his that was promptly licked away by your sinful tongue.
"So good- Such a good boy, yeah? You're all mine aren't you?" He was deep enough in that he just nodded at he tried to rearrange his thoughts. That idea was de-railed when you thrust hard and spanked his ass with the hand not holding his throat, grip tightening enough to make him a bit lightheaded. "Words, harlot. Tell me how you're mine- How good I make you feel." The name made him feel deliciously ashamed of how he was really letting someone push him down and fuck him like a whore. But aeons did he love it. He managed to get out in between panting breaths a, "So good so good please- 'M all yours-" "That's a good cockslut. But just for me right?" "Just for you-"
You rewarded him by speeding up your thrusts, slowly ramping up how hard you fucked into his clenching heat that pushed out lube with every push in- You had made sure to use a lot so he would have to hear the obscene sound of your fucking him and dominating him. His moans became louder along with it, a whimper escaping him when your thrusts forced his hips to the bed. His once neglected cock now lay trapped between him and then bed as yours wrecked him and claimed him. He began babbling about how it felt, how it was like you were in his belly how it was too much not enough please please- Sunday was begging, now, with his drooling mouth, hole, and cock.
"I didn't know toys were supposed to speak- Especially when not spoken to." Your hand tightened around his neck again, this time pressing so it made it a bit harder for him to breathe. "Shhhh- Just be quiet and take it, pretty baby. I'll make you feel good. Make you forget all those troublesome thoughts. Don't you wanna be my dumb little slut? Only focus on taking my cock?" Yeah… he did. He wanted to let go of all the thoughts making his head hurt and give in, even if just for a little while. You'd taken care of him before. Now wasn't any different.
Even through the grip on his throat, he still let out little "ah- ah- ah-" sounds to the rhythm of your hips slapping into his ass, pushing your cock into his deepest parts. Yet you made it feel so good- It didn't hurt at all. All he could think about was how filthy he was and how pleasurable it was. Sunday must have tried to wheeze something out despite everything because you said, "Yeah? You like being dirty for me? A filthy slut for be behind closed doors while in public you act like such a proper leader? What would your dear people think of you if they knew you got fucked like a used prostitute- a mere toy?" You then let go of his throat to let him speak, the air rushing into his lungs making his head spin. "I- I love it! Love it so much please please lemme cum lemme cum on your cock-!"
Another spank to his ass had his hole tightening around you, a cry being startled out of him and tears beading at his lash line. "Good boy-" You then slowed a bit, causing him to whine despite how he had been held on edge for a while, now. Still wanting the bright hot pleasure despite the agony of being denied his release. "Color, baby?" "Mmmf- Green-" "Good boy-" A kiss was pressed to a wing before you harshly thrusted in and went back to pounding him within an inch of his life. Every thrust forced his body up and down the bed, cock an angry red and leaking profusely. Sunday buried his face into the pillow, tears staining them as they came faster. "Please- Let me cum, please! I'll do anything!" "Anything?"
Maybe that was a mistake.
One that had you yanking your dick out of his hole, the greedy thing clenching around nothing as if missing your cock in it. He whined pitifully, tears staining his face as he sobbed into the bedding. Fuck did he sound good. You uncuffed him to flip him over, tossing the things somewhere to the side of the bed. He was unable to keep up with the sudden changes and before he knew it, you were pressing his thighs to his chest in a mating press, cock sliding up and down his own teasingly. "Such a big cock and yet you don't even know how to use it. It's just a big, dumb, useless thing hanging between your legs. All you need is this slutty hole of yours, right?" Your thumb came down to rub at the slightly gaped hole, smearing the lube even more over his sloppy pucker that twitched at your touch.
He hid his face with his wings, flushed and crying as you belittled his cock. He was only good as an anal slut for you. But his wings flared open as he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder. You had sunk your teeth into the spot in reprimand and to mark your toy as yours. "What did I say about that? No hiding." He whimpered and nodded- A spank. "Words." "I won't hide anymore!" "Good toy."
Once you slid in, his mind went blank again. Though somewhere deep in the back of his mind, he noted- Oh. You were in his belly. There on the otherwise flat surface that scrunched up from his position, was the slight bulge of your cock in his guts. "Look at you- So pretty." You pressed on it, making him toss his head back with a pitchy moan, hips jerking under you and insides clenching wetly at the dick they were sucking on while his hands flew up to claw at your back desperately. As you leaned over him to lick into his mouth, you then reached one hand between you to slip off the cockring. "You wanted to cum- So cum." You immediately began a brutal pace that had him screaming as he finally was able to find his release, hurtling off that cliff and vision going white as he emptied his cum onto his stomach and yours, the pressure of having held it in so long and the angle of your mating press- The jerking of his hips from you shoving your deliciously big dick into his hungry little hole forcing his cum to splatter over his chest and on his neck and even wings. It was like a sinful angel was laying beneath you.
You slowed, then, and he let his breathing begin to even out. But it was an act of deception because you transferred his legs from your hold to over your shoulders and grabbed hold of his softened cock that laid on his cum covered belly to begin fucking him hard. He screamed and whimpered at the onslaught of now almost painful pleasure. "Wait no no no- Can't- Too much! Stop please I can't cum again-" "I know you can. You've done it before. Come on- Give me another one. Haven't even filled you up, yet."
He began crying even harder, tears blurring his vision as he panted and whimpered while his thoughts slipped away. Even as his mind went blank, his body still responded with his hips jerkily trying to meet your thrusts even as the twitched in overstimulation. Later he would glare at you with tears in his eyes and a pout while declaring that he would be in charge the next time he bottomed and would hold you down, instead, to take what he wanted. But for now, he could only let his hole be used as a warm, wet little cock sleeve. He choked on his drool as you bent him further so you could lean down to tongue his sensitive nipples, sucking bruises and hickeys into his chest and even right around his nipples- Going as far as to nibble on them.
It felt like hours of cumming and cumming and cumming and losing his mind as you fucked him and wrung out every drop of his spend and pleasure as you could along with the tears that still poured from his puffy eyes. It didn't help that he could feel the way you were filling him up with your own cum, having only orgasmed the second time he did. He was cumming dry when you finally slowed, kissing him gently and rubbing at his slightly distended belly that was full of your cum sloshing inside.
"Did so good for me, baby. I love you so much- Such a good boy for me." You helped him slowly come back down, helping to ground him as the high faded. You had slowly lowered his legs from your shoulders. This was why you always ended facing each other. So he could have that intimacy towards the end of seeing you and being able to kiss you. And so you could help him return to earth Penacony after you were done milking the cum and pleasure and pesky thoughts out of him.
Once he was back with you, you made sure to praise him more and kiss him all over his face before finally coming back to his lips to kiss him slow and deep. "Come on. Gotta drink water, birdie." You always made sure to help him up, let him lean against you as you began aftercare. "I love you," you would remind him at the end of it all. "I love you, too darling," he would always reply back, sealing it with a kiss.
Ah yes. Another round of: Roro writes entirely to much and with far too much detail. I made this one even longer and more detailed as well as included a bunch of writing in more story format rather than headcanon-ish form like I normally do. Because I'm back in business!!! (To write smut about hot characters I like-)
Hope you enjoyed~
-Roro, your friendly neighborhood degenerate
#Roro writes#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#gn reader#hsr x gn reader#honkai star rail x gn reader#top reader#bottom character#dom reader#sub character#honkai star rail sunday#hsr sunday#sunday#honkai star rail sunday x reader#hsr sunday x reader#sunday x reader#sunday smut#hsr sunday smut#honkai star rail sunday smut#hsr smut#honkai star rail smut#smut#jfc this one is REALLY fucking holy holy-#I have been... TORMENTING a certain someone with this since last night#the anticipation is over bb come get your food-#rAAAAAA SUNDAYYYY-
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I'm disappointed and sad and pissed, for sure. But there are some things that are keeping me from being totally devastated. There are things that give me hope for what might be to come.
David Jenkins confirmed that the industry took notice of our campaign. We saw the articles and interactions that confirmed people were taking notice of our campaign. And we got new eyes on the show. Whatever else it's up against, future queer media can only be helped by that.
Maybe at some point we actually will get an on-screen continuation of OFMD. Again, from David's mouth, the lack of pickup is down to an industry in chaos -- not a lack of interest in the show. Obviously that industry chaos is a problem, and for a bigger reason than just this one show. But this transitional period also means there's an opportunity for change, and that's why I think we need to keep being vocal about OFMD, about WB and MAX, and streaming in general. Keep the action and conversation going, both for the sake of influencing the direction the industry goes in, and for showing that interest in OFMD isn't waning. Because there's always that chance that once the dust settles, there will be at least one platform in a position to bring OFMD back. Giant companies aren't suddenly going to grow souls, but they'll look out for their own interests. All we need is someone to decide that those intersect with ours. We've come to the end of the road, yeah, but there's always another trip to pack for.
And finally, I think it's HIGHLY possible we'll get another show by David Jenkins that features Taika, Rhys, and a lot of other OFMD actors and crew. Every single person who has talked about the experience of making this show has absolutely spilled over with love for it. Everyone had a good time, everyone loved what they were creating. Taika and Rhys adored working together again. Taika said being Ed made him fall in love with acting again. All of the actors got to have a hand in their characters' creations. There's so much positivity, respect, and encouragement passed back and forth between the people making the show and the people watching. Which is all my long way of saying that whether it's more OFMD at some point in the future, or a completely different show, I believe strongly that this team is going to work together again and have more stories for us. And I have every confidence that that story will radiate as much love and joy as OFMD. I am and always will be head over heels for the characters and storylines of OFMD. But my delight in them goes beyond the characters to the people who made them, and I'll be there for any project these people collaborate on. I trust them to give it the same heart our silly queer pirate show has.
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Okay so I've finally gotten to Jessicalter's Oprec and now feel qualified to talk about Come Catastrophes or Wakes of Vultures. holy shit. This went straight into my list of top Arknights events. Fantastic event, spoilers will be under the cut so I HIGHLY RECOMMEND reading the event first. It's really good and worth your while.
Anyway, what follows is a scattered mess of thoughts about this event and things that stuck out to me.
First off, plot stuff! I'll probably cover this when I do my next plotline recap post, but what I took away from the end is that Clip Cliff seems to want to make Blacksteel independent, or at least more self-determining than it is now. He seems to be gathering resources and assets like mobile city plates and investing in long-term infrastructure like merc training, so he definitely has a long game he's pushing for. I don't think we know enough go speculate about his goals, but we'll definitely be coming back here again. After all, Tila has an infection monitor in her art, which probably means she's going to be playable at some point in the future.
Next, having looked into this a little on my own, I was interested in some of the previous places Raythean has shown up. Specifically, the ones that stood out were the drones in the Kazimierz Major and arming Silverash's forces in Kjerag, which might be referring to the Tschäggättä. It's not just notable for their apparent level of technology, but also as a faint connecting thread between three separate capitalism plotlines. I don't know if that's going to be meaningful in the future, but I found it interesting enough that I thought I'd bring it up.
Now on to more narrative things. While I love Liskarm and Franka, I do think it was the right choice to give them less screen time in this event. They're both (for the most part) fully-realized characters who understand their own motivations and morals. This is above all else an event about Jessica learning to stand on her own as an adult, so it makes sense that they're more here to support her than they are to play their own roles in the story.
Speaking of said roles, I liked the event's commentary on cops. It pointed out an interesting distinction that I wouldn't really have ever thought of, that between mercenaries and cops. To start: cops exist to protect property, not people. The police exist to protect things and do not have an obligation to err on the side of people over things, and in fact are supposed to do the opposite. This event understands that, and that role os the core of how the bank treats the Blacksteel mercs. CV, however, raises an interesting point that mercenaries are bound by the letter of a contract and not the larger obligation to property cops are, so they can actually raise moral objections and point to their contracts, sort of a Lawful Evil/Lawful Neutral to cops' Neutral Evil. The independence of their position with respect to cops allows for more of an independent morality than you'd get in a cop story and I like that, I think it's a really smart direction to take your writing in.
On a (mostly) separate note, holy shit Arknights is really good at writing cowboy stories. Between this and chapter 9 (and I would argue An Obscure Wanderer), Arknights has repeatedly made it clear that they Do Not Fuck Around with their cowboy stories and I'm surprised I haven't heard more people talking about it. It kinda has everything:
- It takes place in a rural, working-class setting undergoing a larger imminent societal shift that can inform the larger narrative, and deals with a semi-mythologized past that is rapidly disappearing.
- It has a protagonist and an antagonist that serve as foils, both very heavily affected and defined by the (same) violence in their past that they've both had different reactions to. Our protagonist has come to terms with the violence as a tool to maintain order, while our antagonist has used it for personal gain and in some ways lost control of it.
- It's a story about community, and heavily emphasizes local and personal community over larger artificial corporate "community". That's my reading of the recurring motif of the cold btw, warmth represents the close, personal community Davistown used to have and the cold that now pervades it comes from how the bank has systematically dismantled that community.
- And, I'd argue most importantly, it understands the narrative power of a bullet. The Showdown at the end of a cowboy story is powerful because we've spent the entire runtime of our story with these characters, and they are now facing each other down with the intent to end one of their collective two stories. The entire weight of the narrative so far comes to rest on a single moment of tension. It's really hard to gather up the kind of narrative momentum you need to make that hit like it does in CV. For example, it requires a really light hand with actual action in the story, so that it really does feel like it's an even standoff between our protagonist and antagonist. On the other hand, though, you do actually have to establish the relative skill of both parties and actually sell the danger of the moment to the audience. It's really hard to toe the line between tension and actual action in a way that makes for a satisfying resolution, and CV does it extremely well.
Honestly, Arknights just seems really good at getting the vibes of American media right. This is something I noticed in DV and Lonetrail too, and I haven't really been able to put my finger on what it is about them, but the vibes are just really on-point. I want to write more about this at a later point once I actually figure out what it is that I'm feeling, but maybe it's the setting, maybe it's the cast, maybe it's the plot points, maybe it's something in between — it just seems to understand the spirit of period cowboy stories in a way that I can't describe. Good shit.
Finally, I wanna end this with where Jessica is now. The events of CV take place In between the events of Loneterail and Ideal City, so the current "now" of the story is a few months ahead. Jessica left for the frontier along with Woody, Helena, and Miles. They live together in a small new settlement, building the place from the ground up with Woody and Jessica acting as town sherrifs. At the point we're at now, rhe town is fairly well-established and Woody has temporarily left on other business, leaving Jessica the sole sherrif of their new settlement. However, she's risen to her new station, and is growing into a stronger person than she ever was before.
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Hey so your post about pain management as a bedside nurse is so important to my own nursing practice that I've considered printing it out so I can have it to hand all the time. So thanks for that. Also, how do you deal with assignments that are busy enough that pain management is harder than it should be? I'm coming up on two years as a nurse and I feel like I take it personally when I am too busy to adequately manage my patients pain. I'm also coming from a newly unionized hospital where the ratios are still horrendous (I do 1:10 on med surg) and I'm hoping once we can enforce our staffing grids it'll be better but idk I'm burning out and I love my job so much and I really respect your nursing philosophy? I guess. Sorry for the word vomit it's been a crazy shift.
I've been trying to think of how to answer this since I got it. It's just such a horrendous ratio. With ten patients a shift, that's like six minutes an hour for each in a fantasy world where there's no charting and everything is exactly where you need it to be. I feel like I don't have great insight into this because the most med surg patients I've had assigned is five. Ten patients to one nurse is just a raw deal for everyone. Like christ no wonder you feel like you're burning out! I'll give you what thoughts I have and hopefully other people can chime in if they have suggestions. But that's such a hard patient load.
When I've been super swamped, I've found that's when being really explicit about your thinking with the patient helps. Like if I have to dash into a room and then dash back out, I'll make sure the board is updated with the next medication time and that the patient knows when the medication is going to kick in. I'll also provide call light parameters. I have a lot of success telling people, "the med should be doing something by 5:30. If I haven't checked in with you by then, and the pain is unchanged or barely changed, hit your call light and we'll try the next step. Also hit your call light if you feel any sudden change, like now you're nauseated or you have a headache or the type of pain changes or something just feels very wrong. Is there anything you need before I step out of the room?"
I like to be explicit about when to call me because I think there's two directions call light usage can go wrong: someone calls all the time, or someone never calls. With someone who calls all the time, I find that telling them when I'll be back and that I want them to call me if I'm not takes away some of that anxiety that can causes some people to call frequently. Often those patients are afraid that if they aren't on the call light, they're gonna get ignored.
For the other type of patient, the one that doesn't call, I want to make explicit that it's GOOD AND NORMAL TO CALL YOUR NURSE WHEN YOU HAVE SYMPTOMS. We've all had that patient at the end of shift who goes, "btw the gnawing pain in my leg is now a 10/10" and you're like "what gnawing pain sir?? you've literally never mentioned it before now?? I don't have any meds for that lemme page super quick????" These patients can get into pain crises easily because they don't ask for help until something is unbearable. In addition to pain crisis bad, it takes a lot more time to deal with something unbearable than it does to deal with something uncomfortable.
On that note, are you spending your very limited time efficiently? To me, that actually means spend more time talking with patients, at least up front. Manage expectations, make sure people know what to expect. Having conversations with patients that are like, "You just had surgery, it's not gonna happen that we get you completely painless. We want to get you to a manageable pain level that allows you to do whatever it is you most want to do this shift." (For me on nights, that's usually sleeping at least a little, but sometimes the realistic goal you make together is that you will feel at some point better than you feel right now.) "You have this medication scheduled, and you have this one available every X hours when your pain is severe. Is there anything you know that helps you deal with pain?"
Also establish if patients want to be woken up for certain prn medications or if they're sleeping, to let them sleep. With some patients, I will advise them to get woken up for pain medication because I know that they're going to need consistent control to avoid a crisis. (Crises take so much time!)
When I'm crunched for time, I'm fond of bringing in an ice pack and being like "if it works, great, if it doesn't, just take it off, either way here it is." Sometimes I'll do the same with a warm blanket. If I know my patient needs to take pills, I'll bring a cup of water with me into the room. If there's a basic prn like melatonin or tylenol that I think they might want, I'll pull them in advance. If the patient doesn't want them, I return them next time I'm in the med room. (Obviously, don't do this with controlled substances. It's super easy to forget to return them, and not returning opioids is one of those whoopsies people get fired over.)
Decision making takes time. Walking to go get stuff takes time. I want to save the time it takes to assess if the patient needs those things and then walk off to fetch them by just having the things already. If your tightest resource is time, be liberal with resources you can spare. If you're stuck with a patient, do you have anyone you can delegate a prn med pass to? Do you know how to do the absolute minimum charting you need to? Do you have flushes and alcohol wipes and whatever other most common things you need? And since you can't hoard time, if you've got some to spare, ask yourself if there is anything you can do now that will save you time later. If you have five free minutes now and an incontinent patient, getting them up to the bathroom now can save you from taking the time for incontinence care and a bed change later on when they've also sundowned and decide they hate everything but most of all you.
So much of this answer I realize is investing as much time upfront as you can, which I realize is so hard when you are so busy. It sucks immensely that prepping takes much less time than not being prepared does when you don't always have time to prep. Plus when you invest that time to pain plan with patients and do small preventative interventions, I think it also provides some psychological comfort that helps with pain. You're letting them know you're invested and you care and you have a plan, even if you don't have all the time you'd like. That can mean better pain control, which can mean needing to spend less time in that room overall, meaning you can save six whole minutes at some point and maybe even, if we're feeling crazy, get a chance to indulge in that greatest of indulgences: just a real leisurely on-shift piss.
#nursing tag#i hope this helps at all i know how much it sucks to end a shift like 'cool. i didn't help my patients. feel great about that.'#it sucks when you don't have enough time to take care of people because you have too many people to take care of#anyway also thank you re: pain post compliment. and also thank you re: getting to talk about pain mgmt again#marge simpson holding potato voice: i just think [nursing process and symptom management] is neat!
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JUST A TOUCH OF YOUR HAND pt. 3
pairing: moonboys x fem!reader
summary: jake finally makes his debut to ask the reader a question the boys have been dying to ask. reader gives her answer and jake is just a cutie.
warning: jake (he's a warning, yes), just some nice fluff for ya.
authors note: okay ik a lot of you have been wanting this chapter for a long time (sorry about the long wait, I had a lot going on the past couple of months). this chapter isn't as long as the others but it just felt right to have this one be short and sweet. the next chapter, maybe we'll see some more of marc 😏🤭
word count: 1,028
and then there was jake. it was funny actually. he'd been dreaming of meeting his soulmate since he had gotten the stain. and he had so badly wanted to meet you when you first brushed against their hand on the sidewalk that day.
god how he wanted to meet you. and yet he couldn't make himself front. even when steven or marc would hand it over to him, especially when you'd plan days to meet and spend with him, he just couldn't front.
none of them understood it. it's like he'd freeze up. it was eating him up. he was pretty sure he was in love with you – actually he was positive he was in love with you. and he'd never even actually met you!
you, being the amazing person you were, were so patient with him. whenever you'd see the boys on the days you were going to meet jake, and find out he wasn't fronting, you'd have marc or steven tell him you didn't mind waiting.
"you boys are all worth waiting for," you'd say, making them melt.
and jake would try more to front around you and it just wouldn't happen. he couldn't figure out why. although on a deeper level, he knew why.
he supposed he wasn't much different than marc. as much of a hopeless romantic as he was, he also knew his reputation. it was said reputation that caused him to romanticize the thought of a soulmate. he never really thought himself capable of being loved. if marc thought his hands were stained with blood, jake was swimming in it.
if he was realistic, he couldn't imagine why you would love him. he was ruthless, he could be cold, he had a tendency to shut people out if they got too close.
But he wanted you to get too close. He wanted to able to talk to you, learn about you and not through the other two. He wanted to hold you and comfort you, and be held and be comforted by you.
but like marc, he'd been scared. scared you'd run for it, if you knew him. everyone else did.
and yet here you were: sitting across the table, smiling so wide, eyes so patient, like he's your favorite person in the world. if you kept going, he's sure he would probably cry.
"jake?" you called cautiously, breaking him from his thoughts. his eyes snap to yours, smiling at you. he thinks: 'they're right...the way she says our names is addicting.'
"sí, amor?" he answers softly, but you seem to brighten up even more.
"yes," you simply said.
his eyebrows furrow. had he asked a question?
yes, you did, you bloody idiot!
holy shit...she actually said yes...
"yes?" he repeated, since his alters weren't helping him at all.
you laughed at that, at him seemingly forgetting his own question. he loved that sound.
"you asked me to move in," you reminded him patiently.
"and you said yes?"
"I did."
"but you don't know me," he tries to reason, because how on earth would you have agreed to move in with the mess of these three men?
"I know that i love marc and steven, and if I love them, i already love you too," were you trying to kill him?
"why?"
that threw you for a loop. you hadn't been expecting it. why did you love this man you've never actually met?
"well...for starters, we're soulmates-"
"that doesn't mean that I'm not a terrible person." steven had warned you of this. that he might try to talk of himself like this.
"but you're not-"
"you don't know that."
"except that I do."
"how could you possibly know that?"
"because I just do-"
"amor, that's not an answ-"
"I know because you're a weirdo who wears gloves while he drives a limo. You send a bouquet of my favorite flowers every time you can't front when we planned. I know because I can feel you follow me home every night after work when you're patrolling, making sure I get home safe. I know because marc's told me that you can't pass a cat without petting it. I know because I *know.* You're a *good man,* jake," you say, looking at him completely serious.
and for the first time in a long time, every voice in his head is silent. they're at a loss for words. there's this strange feeling in jake's heart and he's never felt it before.
what is that, he thinks.
that's love, jake.
it feels like a heart attack.
yeah...it's great, innit?
you watch him closely while he's silent, watching to see if you've overstepped somehow. to try and see what he's feeling. amd when he stands, you're worried he's leaving. that he's going to change his mind about wanting you to move in.
but he quickly crosses over to you and he cups your face, gentle as he is urgent, and leans down and kisses you, deeply, passionately. and for a moment, you're confused. but you quickly kiss him back, matching his energy, his passion. after a moment, he pulls away, both of you panting lightly, breathless from the kiss. he presses his forehead to yours, looking into your eyes so intensely you swear he can see your soul.
"te amo jodidamente mucho," he says, voice barely above a whisper.
"I love you too," you say back softly, meaning every word.
jake has feel that twist in his heart again, but he knows what it is now. it's love. and it's strange and foreign but...he thinks he likes it. he feels like he's never smiled so wide in his life. he presses one more soft kiss to your lips before moving back to his seat at the table.
"so...tell me about these gloves you bought me," he grins.
and you start talking about them, explaining every detail about them and why you thought he'd like them. he swears he's never smiled so dopey in his life, talking to you about anything and everything you wanted to talk about. he'd finally fronted and he'll be damned if he doesn't take advantage of every single second he gets with you.
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#jake lockley#moon knight#marc spector#moon boys#steven grant#moon knight x reader#jake lockely x reader#soulmate au#just a touch of your hand#steven grant x reader#marc spector x reader#moon knight fluff#mr knight#part three
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Heyyy!
I am not sure if this is similar to things you've written before but I would love to read a chuuya x femreader smut yandere fic with the concept I love you so much, so much that I cant help but hurt you. (Something like Akito and Shigure s relationship from Fruits basket)
A/N- Hii I'm not sure if this is what you were looking for but I do hope you enjoy it!
Twisted love!
Pairing: Yan! Chuuya x Fem reader!
Warning: Nsfw, manipulation, obsessive behavior, unhealthy relationship, mdni, lmk if I missed anything, not proof read!
You loved chuuya, you really do love him a lot but he was too possessive and he broke all the lines when he tried to lock you up. So you broke up and left him. It wasn't easy but you had to do it. Just like that a month went by without seeing him and it was the start of your misfortunes. You failed in your college finals but you knew you did well in your exams so that couldn't have been possible, even when you tried to talk to your professors you were just disregarded by them. You were also fired from your part time job. When you asked your friends for help they all started to ignore you. No one was even willing to listen to you, It hurted a lot, you were just left alone but you didn't even had time to cry as you struggled to find a job. As if that all wasn't enough your landlord also kicked you out of your apartment saying that the property has been sold. You were just flabbergasted cause how could he just sell the apartment without giving you a prior warning? He said that nothing could be done now he already sold it cause he needed money and that your term of lease was about to expire either way. Just like that you were on streets with no where else to go. And by no means you had money to stay at a hotel. So he was your only option left now, if possible you never wanted to go to him, You even thought about returning to your parents home but they lived very far away and you didn't wanted to worry them. You really didn't wanted to go to Chuuya but you couldn't care less about your pride now cause you were just desperate. You went to his penthouse and rang the bell, some minutes later the gingerhead opened the door and looked surprised to see you but what surprised him even more was the luggage you had by your side.
" Chuuya I....I." As if sensing your hesitation "First come in then we'll talk, you look cold." You were honestly expecting him to be angry at you but he just looked calm as you came in.
"Chuuya I...Can I stay here for a day or two? Actually my landlord kicked me out so I need a place to stay. I promise I'll leave as soon as I find another place to stay!" You were starting to get nervous as you looked pleadingly at him.
"Hey calm down! It's okay you can stay for as long as you want, I don't mind it. And if you want should I talk to your landlord?, after all how could he just kick you out!" He just looked affectionately at you just as he used to.
"It's no use I already talked to him besides he already sold the apartment."
"But are you okay?" It was just a simple question but it made your heart ache, for the past month you've been struggling still no one bothered to ask it. But Chuuya just looked worried for you even when you were the one who left him. You couldn't control it anymore and broke down in tears.
"Hey it's okay I'm here! please don't cry. If you want to talk I'm here okay? You can tell me what happened." He embraced you and gently patted your back to help you calm down. Your head was on his chest so you didn't notice the smirk he had on his face. After some time you stopped crying and then you told him everything that happened from crashing your finals till losing your job and he just listened to you, soothing you whenever you choke in tears waiting for you to finish.
"I'm really sorry such things happened to you but I'm sure it's gonna be okay and I'll help you so don't worry and please don't cry it breaks my heart to see you like this. And umm I..I don't know if I should say this right now but y'know after you left I've been reflecting on myself everyday and although it's late I still want to apologize to you." Now that you took a closer look at him there were dark bags under his eyes and he himself looked a bit stressed.
"I'm really sorry! But can you please give one more chance? Just one and I promise I won't do anything to disappoint you anymore." There was a genuine look on his face, you couldn't help but give in to him as you pulled him in a kiss. Your lips pressed against each other, as your faces flushed with desire and emotion. You would be lying if you said you didn't miss him, his lips, his touch instead you craved it. Not holding back anymore he pulls you in for a long, deep kiss, one full of passion, as if he was holding back for so long. You gasp for breath and wrap your arms around him tighter, pulling him closer for more. His hand slowly slid in your shirt groping your breast as you let out a low moan in his mouth. He quickly picked you up, unbuttoning your shirt as he took you to bedroom. He threw you on the bed gently before removing his own shirt. Oh how you missed it, his calloused but gentle hands on your body as he kisses you. He moves to your neck gently nibbling, leaving dark red love bites on your sensitive skin as he removes your bra. You couldn't help but moan as he gently kneads your tit pinching your erect nipple a bit hard as he kisses your collar bone before moving his mouth on your titty. Swirling his tongue on your nipples sucking and nibbling it. He moves downwards kissing your stomach as he proceeds lower. He removes your jeans, seeing the wet pool in your panties.
"Tch are you that desperate for me darling?" He chuckles as he removes your panties before sliding two digits in your wet cunt. " looks like you don't need much prep" He unbuckles his belt removing his trousers and boxers freeing his already hard cock. He strokes his cock a bit before aligning it on your entrance. He rubs his tip on your wet folds making you whimper.
"Mmm Chuuya please I want you!"
He slowly thrusts in you allowing you to adjust a bit before increasing his pace as your moans got louder.
"Ahh hngh~ Chuu.. ahh fast more." He increased his pace at an animalistic pace thrusting deep in your gummy walls. "Chuu mm~ I'm close...ahh please don't stop." He grunts as you clench him a bit harder cumming on his cock. His thrusts get sloppy as he also cums after you. He rubs gently on your sides to help you calm from your high before pulling out. Then he brings out towel from the closet to clean up the mess. Soon after you fell asleep in his arms, as he kissed your forehead smirking.
All because of the emotional distress you forgot the real reason you left him and if you thought that he would just let you go so easily then you were utterly wrong. You never once doubted how all these things happened only after you left him. Afterall he was the one who bribed the professors, threatened your friends to stay away from you, made you lose job and bought that apartment. He doesn't care if it hurts you or not as long as he can have you back.
"Darling if you won't let me lock you up then I'll just have to make sure you come back to me after all I love you so much."
#bungou stray dogs#bsd x you#bungo stray dogs x reader#bungo stray dogs#chuuya nakahara#chuuya x reader#bsd#yandere chuuya#yandere bungou stray dogs#obsessive yandere#manipulative#manipulative chuuya#chuuya smut#chuuya x reader smut#bsd chuuya#chuuya x you
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Hello! Can i request a oneshot of angel dust x touch starved !male reader? More specifically they get together after angel notices that wow this guy is like the first dude in hell that hasn't been trying to seduce me or use my body and is simply interested to get to know me, later when they get to the kissing part reader almost fucks it all up due to him internally panicking extremely hard since he's never thought that someone would ever want to kiss him
Thanks!
Cautions - the dialog is gonna suck, maybe, we'll see lmao, sexual themes I mean come on it's Angel dust 😭, Valentino, THIS IS A MALE READER FIC, SPOILERS FOR SEASON 1, cursing (it's hell), my shit dialog like usual 🤧 (someone give me tips I'm begging you),
Genre - fluff
Type - oneshot (?) I'm gonna be so honest I have no idea how this is gonna come out but I'll do my best 🙏
Comments- omg, dude, angel is my favorite so thank you 🤧🤧 I'm already in love with this ask lol. This is totally inspired by the song from Cinderella I have no shame. I also need to add to my rules lmao. Not because of you, you're doing great, drink some delicious water, eat some good food 😋 (that goes for everyone) but because I don't want anyone asking for specified readers for characters that don't swing that way canonically. It just hit me, and I need to add that lmao
So this is love~
Angel dust always had this facade about him, of his porn star persona. Everyone knows this, and only recently he's gotten out of it. After the war, after Husk breaking him out of his shell, he learned to be less of Angel dust, and more of Anthony.
Obviously, it took more than a few months, but he was feeling like himself, despite having to work for Valentino still. And, you've been helping him, whether you know it or not. Ever since you joined the project to become redeemed before the war, you both had become good friends.
And more recently, boyfriends..
Which shocked everyone to the core. Mostly Angel, to be honest. When he first started talking to you, he had done so with his facade. Using all sorts of innuendos, sneakily asking if you wanted to "get together for a little patty cake" in his room, and general flirting, much like he does did with Husk.
You always got too flustered to respond, but always knew to say no. But, you did try to move past his flirting and ask about him. Not his pornstar persona Angel Dust, no no no, you were asking about Anthony.
And you came to learn that Anthony was the sweetest man ever. While he was still a flirt, he enjoyed baking, romcoms, popsicles (grape flavored specifically), and making pasta! (Don't cancel me I beg of you 🙏)
And you got to know, AND fall in love with these different parts of him. Which includes the parts of him that enjoy non-sexual physical affection. The classic hand holding, hugs, kisses on the cheek or forehead, bunny kisses for sure, which is sending your touch starved ass into overdrive.
He enjoys how flushed your face looks after he gives you a forehead kiss anytime he sees you, or when he randomly grabs your hand to kiss it, looks you dead in the eyes and winks, then goes back to scrolling through his phone as if nothing happened.
However, you have never kissed someone on the lips before. Or had any sort of relationship with this much physical affection that you didn't know you needed, making you crave for more. Specifically, real kisses from Angel.
And you knew Angel would be more than happy to kiss you, but you wanted it to be special, so very special.
But.. Valentino called for Angel. He was having a bad day and needed a "pick me up."
And it just happened to be the exact same day you were going to ask Angel on the date, to ask him to kiss you.
You went looking for your gorgeous spider, finding him on the couch scrolling through his phone like usual. You knew that this was your opportunity to ask him, and off you went!
"Hey Angie, whatcha doing?" You hung on the back of the couch, smiling down at your boyfriend. "Not much, why? You want some attention?~" He teased, slightly patting his lap with one of his upper hands that were behind his head. "Kinda, I was wondering if you wanted to-" RINGGGG, his phone was going off. Angel panicked, seeing that it was his boss. He said a small apology before he jumped off of the couch and running to the corner of the room so you wouldn't hear Valentino's yelling.. as much. He kept nodding, muttering things you couldn't hear, but as soon as the call ended he deflated visibly.
"Shit.. sorry babes, but I gotta go, Val- he uh, needs a little help in the studio!" You knew he was lying, so you wouldn't worry, but you couldn't help it. Not to mention being upset, you had everything planned! "Nah, it's okay Angel, don't worry about it! I'll just.. tell you later."
He nodded then gave you a kiss on the cheek, hurrying out of the hotel to the studio he worked at.
It was the next day when Angel finally got back, hair messy, clothes out of place, and his tired eyes closed as he leaned against the doors, rubbing his face with his upper set of hands, and his lower set wrapped around his waist.
You were coming down from some breakfast, still in your pajamas when you say Angel again. "Angie?" He jumped, having not expected anyone to be up yet as it was Saturday, and Charlie let everyone have a free day from activities these days.
"O-oh! Hey babes, what're you doin up so early? Don't ya normally sleep in on Saturdays?" He was fidgety, nervous. This is how he usually acted after going to the studio, not to mention how much he avoided talking about it. "Yeah, I guess. I just couldn't sleep so I gave up and came down here. Did you want some food? I'm feeling like some bacon and eggs, or maybe biscuits and gravy." He was.. surprised by your nonchalant demeanor. He smiled though, grabbing your hand and kissing it softer than ever before. "Whatever you make sweet cheeks, I'll eat."
Your cheeks tinted pink ever so slightly, but you didn't feel nervous or overly flustered. Instead, you felt confident. So confident that you took the hand Angel wasn't holding and placed it on his round and soft cheek. He was also surprised, but leaned into your hand, whether or not he knew what you were thinking is a mystery. At least, it was until he started leaning down, eyes fluttering shut as he left just enough space between your lips and his to feel them ghost over the others.
You admired him a second longer, then closed your eyes, closing the distance between the two of you.
The kiss was short but sweet, you pulling away first, looking up at Angel with sweet doe eyes. Your first ever kiss was.. amazing, just like when you dreamed of it as a kid.
Angel gave you a dopey smile, then gave you a quick kiss on the nose, pulling away and tugging you towards the kitchen again. "Let's make some food, I'm starving ova' here!"
#reader insert#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel angel dust#angel dust x reader#angel dust x male reader
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🍓 style analysis: nana komatsu / hachi (NANA)
welcome to the first entry in my style analysis series- where i take a different fictional character for each entry and take a look at their fashion sense, as an exploration on how fashion plays a role in forming a character's personality & overall identity. in other words, it's a deep dive into the intersection of story & style. today we're starting off with nana komatsu (who we'll be affectionately referring to as hachi from here on out) from NANA, my favourite character from my favourite manga of all time.
NANA is a manga very near and dear to my heart. i could spend all day talking about why, but i'd say one of the biggest reasons is for how ai yazawa (the creator of NANA) uses fashion as a means of storytelling. in NANA, clothes are not just a typical character design element, but are instead a visual narrative tool used to convey a characters' personality, as well as to express their traits and feelings. today i've chosen hachi for the style analysis because i'm fascinated by the subtle changes to her style syncing with her character development over the course of the story. also, i think her style is just super cute. so let's get into it! (⚠ anime & manga spoilers ahead)
🍓
overview
if i only had one word to describe hachi's style, i'd say feminine- think frills and lace details. she's all about babydoll silhouettes, pleated skirts, knit cardigans, ballet flats, and generally embodying shoujo fashion from the early 2000s with a good balance of cute and classy. hachi's fashion sensibilities lean more towards the modest side, as her dresses and skirts are usually around midi-length, and mini skirts are often paired with extra layers like tights or leggings underneath. it's a very good girl chic look, which fittingly leans in to her innocent personality. hachi is very stylish and clearly puts a lot of thought into picking her outfits everyday, as she's not afraid to occasionally experiment with different styles every & to use fashion as a key means of expressing herself.
in terms of colour palettes, hachi's wardrobe has a bit of everything- warm hues, earth tones, soft pastels, which all work together to capture the warmth and sweetness of her character. she's definitely more attuned to light colours than dark. this suits her personality better too, as light coloured clothing is said to convey feelings of friendship, fun, compassion, and approachability. fabric-wise, hachi likes to keep it light and airy with materials like chiffon and tulle; switching to warmer fabrics like cashmere and wool for cold weather, giving her outfits a vintage feel.
we can see that hachi pulls fashion inspiration from various aesthetics and fashion trends across different decades. she definitely incorporates her love for vintage fashion in her style, particularly with elements we've seen her wear before like mod dresses, neckerchiefs, pearl necklaces, long fleece trim coats, and brown platform boots. you can also see it in how some of the pieces she wears feels so unique, like a surprise gem you would find in a vintage boutique while thrifting. in dressier looks, hachi's girlish charm and allure is slightly reminiscient of 1960s it girls, like twiggy and sharon tate. she draws from a lot of 60s-inspired elements- the romantic parisienne style, and a bit of vintage preppy chic.
scarves and bandanas are a vintage essential as well as one of hachi's signature accessories. they have tons of versatile styling options, plus the potential to be dressed up or down. we've seen her wearing one scarf (exhibit A) multiple times over the series. the babushka scarf version has to be my favourite, it's very hepburn-esque, who i 100% i could picture hachi having a poster of in her childhood bedroom. i also think that having characters re-wear pieces we've seen before is generally just a cool subtle styling detail, which adds to the realism of NANA's 10/10 worldbuilding. the scarf's many appearances styled in different ways also goes to show how hachi enjoys being creative with her outfits, loves the pieces she owns and wants to get as much use out of them as possible.
hachi's style also incorporates a touch of influence from the kawaii lolita subculture, particularly modern offshoots like larme-kei. lolita is french rococco-inspired with a focus on cuteness, and has its origins in early 2000s harajuku street style- which is also where mori/kogyaru fashion originates from; hachi's go-to style during her high school years (see: her modified school uniform, miniskirts, fuzzy legwarmers). both of these movements were heavily pioneered by j-fashion magazines of the time like FRUITS, Olive, Larme & CUTiE, which were mainly popular with teenage girls and young women, and hachi is no exception. her fashion sense is also heavily inspired by famous japanese celebrities and style icons like risa nakamura.
if we had to really narrow it down, i think hachi's style can be best described by otome (lit: maiden) fashion. known as one of the predecessors of lolita fashion, this style was very popular among young girls in the 70s-80s and is heavily centered around embodying all things traditionally feminine. sweet, cute, girly, and romantic are all common descriptors of the style, which pulls influence from 60s mod fashion (which, as we've seen, has prevalent elements in hachi's style). think tons of layering, pattern mixing, longer hemlines, and mary janes/flats, all of which we frequently see in hachi's outfits. we also see that she takes elements from modern lolita fashion like frills, bows, ribbons, lace, tights & stockings, and incorporates them into her own personal style as more understated outfit details; making it more wearable on a daily basis while still being a tribute to one of her sources of style inspiration.
now that we've explored what makes hachi's personal style unique to her character, let's dig into how her style is influenced in relation to how the story progresses and how her character develops. and just for funsies, i'll also be styling a casual everyday outfit that i could picture hachi wearing for each story arc. let's go!
🍓
i. art school
i'd describe hachi's style here as the most youthful, which makes sense considering she's freshly moved to tokyo to study at an art school. we see her sporting a face-framing pixie cut, which gives her look a bit of edge, but not too much as she still retains her signature soft girl style to balance it out. also, can i just say: super farmer's daughter vibes when paired with a bandana! jeans were having a moment too- during this era, hachi was often seen wearing a pair of bellbottom flares or baggy jeans, creating a casual and easygoing look which really leaned into the artsy college student fashion. this would also mesh well with her then-best friend junko's more bohemian/indie, woodstock-inspired hippie style. the short hair paired with her experimentation on androgynous silhouettes definitely accentuates her gamine facial features, lending to a cute boyish look.
all these style elements are in direct contrast with the hyperfeminine looks of her high school years, back when she'd opt for skirts over jeans and long, styled hair; showing how hachi underwent a pretty drastic style change whilst adapting to the new environment in tokyo. at the same time, it could also hint at hachi's approach to self-expression & using fashion as a coping mechanism to deal with major life changes. dressing more casually to blend in with the college crowd is one of many indicators on how easily influenced hachi can get, which is pretty on-brand behaviour for someone with a tendency to seek validation from others instead of oneself.
so let's get into the first look i've picked out for her: layers on layers on layers baby! for this outfit, i took a lot of inspiration from hachi's first day of class outfit. i tried to be consistent with her theme of 70s-inspired prints and silhouettes during this phase, but also wanted to incorporate a modern y2k touch since we know that younger hachi (before fully developing her unique & personal sense of style) is more of a trend chaser, and what could be more early 2000s than a blouse + dress + jeans combo? accessories-wise, i wanted to pick out unique-looking pieces that had a lot of charm, as i was really going for that 'flea market finds' vibe since she obviously wouldn't have been able to afford any designer yet on a college student budget. also please notice the gorgeous vintage floral print ballet flats- i was so excited when i found it, i thought it screamed hachi!! they look so comfortable to walk in on top of being cute, it's the perfect shoe to slip on for a long day of classes without sacrificing style.
🍓
ii. apartment 707
during this time, we see hachi start to embrace feminine styles again. she lets her hair grow out and we see her back in skirts, dresses, and all things girly, which is why her otome fashion influences shine through most here. she wears tons of pieces in floral and polkadot print, as well as flowy babydoll tops which are very y2k-girl-next-door-reminiscient. we also see her starting to wear vivienne jewelry (the pearl choker, the dainty silver orb earrings), likely as a result of nana's influence (who she heavily admires and looks up to) & wanting to emulate her style. hachi's outfits here seem to have more colour and print, which i believe is reflective of her mental state here; happy, confident, and surrounded by support. good vibes all around, her environment at this time encourages her to take more risks in not just decision-making but also in her fashion choices.
in general, this era is where hachi seems to be getting a better hold on growing into her own personal style. she's still open to trying out different styles every now and then, but we can see there are some style elements that really stick and appear most often in her outfits. she's also seen here experimenting with all kinds of different hairstyles- french braids, pigtails, twin buns, the half-updo. to me, i think all of this signifies how hachi's style development runs parallel to her identity formation and how she grows as a person. at this point of the story, hachi believes she's finally found a place where she fits- within this ragtag but loving cast of unique characters.
so the second look was a little more of a challenge to work with- that's because hachi's style during this era doesn't subscribe to any one specific aesthetic or subculture, but more like a bit of everything, and her outfits can differ a lot between episodes. the goal here was to go for a casual daytime outfit, and i ended up super proud of the colour coordination in this one! i've styled hachi in a frilly vintage floral print chiffon slip dress that's almost reminiscent of the strawberry dress of 2020, but with unique details that give it much more character. i gave hachi a cream-toned vivienne crossbody purse, a scarf to balance out the salmon pink of the dress accents, styled as a neckerchief, some strawberry hair clips to match, and of course i had to include her much-spotted pearl orb necklace too. the highlight of this look are definitely the shoes, which are maison margiela tabi ballet flats- something i could 100% picture hachi wearing if NANA were set in the context of modern day fashion trends.
🍓
iii. motherhood
as time passes, we also see how hachi's fashion sense has slightly evolved into a classier, more refined version. more adult, if you will. this occurs when hachi decides to move out from apartment 707 and starts getting serious with takumi. not only did her living situation change, but as did her lifestyle, and with that, her fashion sense too. her style here simplified and took on a more mature look. she started prioritizing function over form as she cut down on layering and accessorizing. she would also opt for longer, flowier silhouettes and comfortable styles, often wearing simple dresses or aprons over a basic shirt-skirt combo. i really like how the change in style here - which pulls a lot from the 50s-suburbia housewife trope (think frilly aprons, puffy dresses, flared skirts, modest hemlines) - feels like a sublte detail to show how hachi settles into her new role of motherhood, expressed via clothing choices.
as a whole, this period of her life signifies the drastic 180° change from spending carefree days of young adulthood, to taking on the role of mother/wife in a nuclear family unit. it's the most major life change she's ever had to experience at this point, and it's expected that her style evolves alongside this. she's seen wearing noticeably less patterns or colour during this time, which could hint at possibly representing her inner feelings- the bleakness of spending her days in a mostly-empty home, and the isolation of being separated from the friendships she once surrounded herself with daily. thankfully, we do eventually see her return to dressing fashionably again after the timeskip. however, it's extremely important not to gloss over this period of her life as it portrays how she must have felt having most of her agency taken away overnight, with her style being all she had left as a form of control.
so last but not least is the final outfit, which was tough styling as there was comparably less material to go off, but i based it on the few going-out looks we get to see hachi wear post-takumi. rolling with the 50s-inspired looks, i've styled her in a coral short-sleeve button down dress. for the outerwear i picked a long checkered overcoat, which nicely complements the dress in addition to being a going-out staple for classy ladies everywhere. since the outfit is mostly harsher silhouettes, i decided to keep the colour scheme light to balance it out. while i was going for 'stylish mature woman', i still wanted some youthful elements in there to maintain hachi's signature girlish look. i balanced it out by accessorizing with a headband (a prep chic essential) and dior saddle bag, both lime green for a pop of colour and contrast. and of course, i had to incorporate the iconic neckerchief too as it doesn't get any more vintage-looking than this. the final piece to tie it all together are a pair of classic miu miu ballet flats- chic and comfortable!
🍓
final thoughts
all in all, hachi's fashion sense is super girly and sweet, which i'd say directly reflects on her character's personality. hachi is an outgoing girl who wears her heart on her sleeve and has a lot of love to give. she's warm and approachable, which she expresses through her clothing choices by embodying the cheerful, down-to-earth girl next door look. her bubbly style is youthful and fresh, which personality-wise is in character with hachi's innocence and willingness to trust others. this is shown through how much hachi cares deeply about her loved ones & often (unhealthily) prioritizes their feelings over her own. however, this naïveté unfortunately leaves her a lot more vulnerable to others seeking to exploit her emotional attention.
hachi's fashion evolution over the series shows how she uses fashion as a coping tool to help adjust to life changes, capturing her emotional growth and how she matures over the course of the story. the way that hachi's sense of style develops alongside her character is so realistic. her style development tells the story of a girl who finds herself and loses herself over and over again, frequently changing jobs and wardrobes in a constant struggle to find an identity to latch onto- until she does. hachi's style story is one of self-expression & identity formation; a story that speaks to all the young, unsure girls out there who see a bit of themselves in her, trying to figure out their place in a world in a world that often decides for them.
#oc#nana#nana manga#nana anime#nana komatsu#nana hachi#ai yazawa#collage#collage art#digital collage#fashion collage#fashion moodboard#style analysis#fashion analysis#character analysis#anime style analysis#essay#fashion essay#coquette#jfashion#harajuku#kawaii#pastel
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