#it will come back we just have to be patient
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WORST BEHAVIOR . . . dazai gets turned on watching you fight and just can’t help himself.
ft. pm!dazai + f!reader, pm!reader, possessive behavior, physical fighting, dazai is a little pervy, one use of ‘good girl’, semi-public & unprotected sex, choking (m!receiving), 2.5k w.c…mdni !!
p.s.! ⊹ ࣪ ˖ i know i’ve been promising this one for a while :< thank you for being patient with me !!
dazai already knows you indulge him; you let him get away with more than anyone else ever would. even outside of work, when he’s stripped of the authority that comes from being the youngest port mafia executive, the unspoken next in line for the throne of yokohama’s underworld, you always give into his whines of five more minutes or just one more kiss, i swear.
if you asked him, it was your own fault that he liked you so much; you were addicting. if the port mafia was a black hole where all light escaped, you were a twinkling star, falling from the sky right into dazai’s blood-soaked hands, and he loves you more than he ever thought he could. you weren’t quite an executive yet, but you were good at what you didー fighting.
there were only a few things in his meaningless life that made him less than bored: drinking with odasaku after work, harassing chuuya to tears, and watching you train, or better yet, getting to see you on a mission. his favorite part was that you always looked so, so hot while you were doing it.
he tries to act surprised when you’re both sent to take care of some low-level group, threatening to leak information that they definitely didn’t have. he didn’t really have to come with you on this assignment, it was below his level as an executive, after all, but he went through all of the trouble of leaking the address to one of the mafia’s “hideouts”, ensuring they’d show up at the dingy warehouse. it looms before the two of you, weathered from the salty air of the port, glass windows splintered and broken.
his coat flutters behind him with every giddy step, happily following after you and your little black skirt; maybe if he was lucky enough, he’d get a peek beneath it.
“are you sure you don’t have somewhere else to be right now?” you turn to look over your shoulder, reaching your hand out for him and intertwining your fingers loosely.
“there’s nowhere else i’d rather be.” he swings your arms between the two of you loosely. you only drop his hand to pull the rusty door open, greeted by three men, all expectantly waiting for you.
“my, my,” he whispers against the curve of your ear. “looks like we’ve been caught.”
“what do we have here? a little girl…” one of the men grins, looking at you in a way that made dazai want to kill him himself. the way his eyes drag up your body stirs an instinct to pull you behind him. “…and her guard dog?”
of course, he’d never put you in any real danger. this group was pathetic, and even at three to one, they didn’t stand a chance against you. dazai can predict all of their moves flawlessly anyway, and you have a implicit understanding that he never gives you more than he knows you can handle. his gun remains heavy against his side, always within his reachー just in case.
his fingers instinctively twitch towards the grip as one of the men reaches to grab you, but you don’t let him, seizing him by the forearm, leg sweeping him from behind and tossing him onto the ground. he falls to the concrete with a groan, looking up at you with a dazed scowl. the heel of your foot connects with his jaw before he can make another move, and he falls still against the ground.
one of the other men comes from the side, but you’re still too quick, catching him out of the corner of your eye and dodging with ease. you hit him hard enough for him to stumble, and you take the opportunity to grab him by the throat, knocking him backward. dazai’s eyes widen, the hair rising against the bandages wrapped around his arms and neck; he was almost jealous. the man chokes as you slam his back against the wall hard enough for his eyes to roll back and his body to crumple to the ground.
there’s only one man left, and your lip splits when his fist connects with your face. dazai’s eyes narrow, and the man’s glaze over in frustration as you recover quick enough to dodge his next hit, crouching low. you curl your leg around his waist from behind, pulling him down to the ground by the back of his shirt until he’s pinned beneath you.
you’re quick to get up, and when you’re far enough away for dazai’s comfort, he aims his gun and fires once, twice, then again before the man falls still.
the only thing heavier than dazai’s presence is his gaze, and you feel it prickle against your skin like the sharp edge of a knife from where he’s still standing in the doorway. when you meet his eyes, they’re red and glowing, and locked onto you.
he walks towards you, only the heavy sound of his shoes against the cement and your quiet breaths filling the warehouse. you swipe your thumb across your lip, breaking his gaze to look at the blood smeared into the crevices of your fingertip before dazai grabs your chin, tilting it upward. his tongue is warm as it traces along the cut before he presses it past your lips. your noise of surprise is muffled as he kisses you, the taste of your own blood permeating your mouth.
he walks you backward until the back of your heels hit the edge of the cold, concrete wall. his mouth never leaves yours, tracing the roof of your mouth and the edge of your teeth as if he doesn’t already have every part of you committed to memory. his cock strains against the fabric of his trousers, poking against your thigh as he presses himself flush against you.
“dazai,” you try to warn, but it isn’t very convincing, breathed out like a hymn; god, his name has never sounded so sweet. he sings your name back with a smile, groping you through your shirt with one hand as the other unbuckles his belt. he slides his fingers down your stomach until he pulls your shirt out from where it’s tucked into your waistband, flipping the hem of your skirt upward to expose those cute little panties. “we’re still…we’re here. in a dirty warehouse.”
“what’s wrong? there’s no one else around. you made sure of that, didn’t you?” he cups your chin between his fingers again and turns your head towards the enemies, bloodied and unconscious, chests heaving shallowly. he presses a kiss to your jaw, trailing up until his lips rest against the curve of your ear. “did you already forget? when their bloodstains haven’t even set into your clothes yet? i didn’t know you could be so cold.”
he unbuttons your shirt with the flick of his thumb, just enough to expose the curve of your tits, sitting oh so prettily in your bra. he skims his fingers against your panties, stroking the soft fabric where your most sensitive spot is covered. he pulls them aside, giggling against your ear when you’re already wet as he slips his middle and pointer fingers inside of you. your frown falters as he curls them with expert precision, eyelids fluttering in bliss as something achingly sweet ignites in your stomach.
“you know what i was thinking while i was watching you?” he drops his voice low, watching the way you sink your teeth into your bottom lip when he finds your clit, grinding the heel of his palm against it in pressured circles. “‘i wonder how it’d feel for her to choke me like that…to wrap these pretty little fingers around my neck and squeeze’.”
the lingering adrenaline of a fight and dazai’s body pressed so close to yours makes you feel dizzy. you part your lips to reply, but his hand is back on your jaw before you can respond, brushing his mouth over yours teasingly.
“do you have any idea what you do to me?” the pad of his thumb is cold against your warm cheek. he strokes himself with the slick collected on his fingers, pressing into you with the tip of his cock. his bangs fall over his eyes as he hangs his head and watches you stretch around the shape of him, disappearing inside your warm cunt inch by inch.
your nails dig into his arms, feeling his lithe muscles tense through the expensive fabric of his coat. he pries your hands off, fingers wrapping around your wrists as he pins them against the wall, holding them in place with one hand. his grin bites against your neck as you throw your head back and arch your hips instinctively.
“my good girl,” he breathes, sucking the skin beneath your ear between his teeth, soothing it with a kiss when you whine. “my sweet, perfect girl.”
“mhm,” you exhale, your own breath getting caught in your throat. your back is pressed against the cool cement behind you, with dazai’s firm chest flush against your front. the broken window above you pools sunlight over your half-dressed bodies. “yours.”
you feel his uneven breathing against your skin as he presses his lips against your jaw. his cock rubs against you deliciously, velvet walls fluttering and clinging to him each time he pulls his hips back. it’s so easy to melt into him like this, with the security of his hands against your skin, his soft hair tickling your neck, and his cock filling you perfectly, like you were made for him to take.
he lifts your leg, fingers squeezing the plush of your thigh and supporting your weight. he thrusts inside you at a new angle, hitting the slightest bit deeper, but it’s just enough to make you gasp as your belly flutters and your knees nearly buckle beneath his palm as he holds you up. your hands clench around nothing, nails digging into your palms in a desperate need to hold onto something.
“the way you threw that man and pinned him to the ground,” he whispers. “would you do that to me?”
“no,” you’re breathless, words lost on you as your mind clouds over with pleasure. his hips grind against yours, the head of his cock kissing the deepest part of you as your eyes roll backward. “i don’tー i’d never hurt you.”
“but i’d let you,” he rasps. “you could do whatever you want to me.”
he lets go of your wrists, and you bend your leg around his waist, trying to press him even deeper. you balance on your tip toes as he thrusts into you harshly, curling your arms around his shoulders, as if his cock nestled inside you wasn’t close enough; it was never enough when it came to dazai.
“fuck,” your voice is breathy and broken, and it echoes throughout the gutted warehouse. the heat building in your stomach is already overwhelming, rushing to your head until you feel drunk on it. your muscles are taut, toes curled as you feel him throb inside you, his hips stuttering. “osamu.”
his grip on you tightens, and he whines; it’s just barely audible, and you would’ve missed it if he wasn’t right next to your ear. your eyes are hazy, half open as you look at him through your lashes as he watches the way your tits bounce against the fabric of your bra in time with his movements.
your hand trembles as you lift it, closing your fingers loosely around his neck and pulling his gaze back to yours. you can’t help but grin, lips curving up into a drunken smile as you watch his cheeks flush a pretty pink and his eyebrows furrow in pleasure. dazai rarely expresses his emotions so openly, and you commit it to memory as best you can through the fuzzy feelings of bliss blurring the edges of your mind. he lets out the prettiest noise, something between a moan and a cry vibrating against your palm, his cock throbbing inside you as you squeeze his bandaged neck.
his thrusts grow sporadic, breathy moans growing in volume. his nails dig into your hips, and you rub your clit desperately, quivering in his grip as you feel him stall and cum, warm and deep inside you.
everything fades to static as the sweetness in your belly burns brighter and brighter until it finally explodes into white, hot, sparkling pieces that pierce your vision. dazai pants and hangs his head, but his eyes snap to yours as you mumble something close to “cummingー”, always so desperate to take in the pretty way you fall apart for him, because of him.
he whimpers when you draw your hand from his throat to his face, brushing his bangs away from his eyes. you cup his cheek, smoothing your thumb against the tape holding his small patch of gauze in place as you breathe in one another.
your legs ache, tensed muscles finally relaxing as you lower your foot back to the ground unsteadily. your head falls against the wall with a final sigh, chest heaving. dazai is beaming at you when you peek your eyes open after a few moments, looking irritatingly adorable with his messy hair and crooked tie.
“i can’t believe we did that here,” you glance towards the pieces of shattered glass that litter the ground.
“you loved it,” he smiles, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. “you love me〜”
he pulls out of you carefully, snapping your underwear back into place. you grip his tie, wrapping it around your hand and pulling him in to press your mouth to his before straightening it and sliding the knot back into place.
he pouts as he watches you start to button your shirt back up, squeezing your waist softly.
“can’t you leave some open?”
your glare is weak, and he meets it with a smile. he slides his coat off his shoulders, draping it over your own to hide your wrinkled clothes.
“i’ll call a car to get us,” he hums, slipping his hand into your own as he guides you outside the warehouse. “i’ll even give you the rest of the day off for a good performance!”
you rest your head on his shoulder, sleepy and sated. the breeze is cool on your warm skin, carrying the scent of the sea as it gently brushes through your hair.
“you know,” he starts, typing away at his phone, still as happy as ever. “you still owe me lunch from losing that bet last week.”
he has another tease on the tip of his tongue, but he falters when he sees the red splotch of blood staining your pouted lips. he slips his hand beneath your chin and tilts your face towards him. he frowns at the cut, visible eye narrowing as he brushes his thumb against the corner of your mouth.
you wrap your hand around his wrist loosely, pulling it back to press your lips to his palmー i’m okay. he sees one of the mafia’s black cars pulling in from the corner of his eye, and presses a lingering kiss to your foreheadー i know. he pulls the lapels of his jacket tighter around your shoulders before he slips his hand back into yours, and when he walks you to the car, his coat flutters behind you.
BSD MASTERLIST
#💌 . . . with love mai ⊹ ࣪ ˖#dazai x reader#dazai x you#bsd x you#bsd x reader#dazai smut#bsd smut#dazai imagines#bsd imagines#dazai osamu x you#dazai osamu x reader#bungou stray dogs x reader#ʚ shhh ɞ
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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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𐙚˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡ ˚ just like her mama/daddy 𐙚˙✧˖°📷 ༘
dad!rafe x mom!reader
the constant beeping woke you from your afternoon nap. only given birth three weeks ago naps with your newborn baby were routine. you blinked, slowly bringing your hands to your face and rubbing your eyes. it’s only when you hear a shriek, do you sit up in bed panicking. you quickly look to the left of your bed where your daughter’s bassinet is, finding it empty. after struggling with removing the throw blanket that was tangled between your legs, you leave the room in search of your newborn daughter and her father.
“i’m sorry baby i know, i know mama is smarter than daddy, please be patient” rafe whispers to the fussy baby who whines in his arms. “Just let me put you down for one second!” he pleads to a fussy ari. that is when you decide to help. “i got it” you giggle walking towards the bottle warmer rafe couldn’t get started. “sorry we woke you, babe, she’s hungry and i couldn’t get that shit on.” he mumbles.
“that’s okay, our baby is like her father very impatient..when he wants something.” you smirk making him shake his head. the sound of his raspy laugh calming the little bundle in his arms. “how are you feeling?” the simple question warming up your insides. rafe was already a loving husband before becoming a father. now seeing him as a dad almost brings you to tears every time. “im okay i needed that nap” you whisper running a finger down ari’s nose.
“she's so beautiful” you now understood what everyone says about moms believing they have the cutest newborn in the world. “just like her mama” rafe bent down placing a gentle kiss on your lips. he never fails to make you feel beautiful even though you thought you looked a mess. wearing one of rafe's shirts which now had spit-up stains. his own sweats were also covered in dried-up milk. it was all part of the new parent life. you'd get adjusted soon enough.
ari squirmed in her father’s arms. bottom lip forming a baby pout. “my princess don't you start i hate seeing you cry.” rafe cooed rocking back and forth. “it’s coming ari girl” pulling the bottle from the warmer you tested out the temperature on your wrist. “just needs a couple of seconds to cool down” your girl was very picky when it came to her milk temperature. if it was room temperature she wouldn't take it, spitting it right out with a whine. It needed to be the perfect in-between. “mama’s got milk okay let's go sit down” rafe moved towards the living room with you following behind.
immediately snuggling into both of your loves as they rested on the sofa. “it should be good” you smiled passing rafe ari’s bottle. “only three ounces lets see how fast she drinks this shit” rafe joked knowing his baby was a hungry little thing. “We might have to change her schedule to a bottle every two hours.” it'll be hard but maybe she'll sleep a little longer through the night.
“hey, hey slow down princess it ain't going anywhere” rafe gently removed the bottle from ari’s mouth. ari let out an angry breath, furrowing her eyebrows. “i think she's mad at you daddy” you giggled craning your neck to kiss his nose. rafe threw his head back in silent laughter “she looks so funny when she's mad” he brought the bottle back to her mouth. ari immediately going back to drinking her milk in slow gulps. “still cute though”
“just like her daddy” you whispered before letting your eyes close into slumber.
#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron drabble#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron#rafe cameron fluff#rafe outer banks#dad!rafe cameron#dad!rafe
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fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (9/?)
Part Summary: You get more than you bargained for on Halloween
Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader, temporary Leigh x Danny | Word count for this part: 7.300+ | Warnings: Light angst, R and Leigh being obtuse | Author's Note: Longest chapter so far (and about 90% of it is just Leigh and R)! I have officially written another novel length fic with this update. From a two-shot to this? Wouldn't be possible without everyone's support. Thank you, everyone. I have a little treat for you at the end.
Masterlist | Part I Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII
-
Despite Leigh's promise to bring Logan in for his vaccinations, she missed the appointment again for the second time. Understanding that life gets hectic, you decide that rather than seeing Logan miss another round of critical vaccinations, you'll take matters into your own hands and arrange a home visit at the Shaw’s.
On the day of the visit, you discover that Logan has gained 2.5 pounds in just two weeks. The drastic weight gain might indicate that he’s not a purebred Shih Tzu as you originally thought when you got him, or Leigh has been feeding him more than the recommended serving size. You can feel Logan’s solid back as you hold him in place while you administer the vaccine on his scruff. Leigh appears nervous, and if you weren’t determined to scold her after completing Logan’s immunizations, you might have found it adorable.
“Just a quick pinch, buddy,” you murmur soothingly to the anxious pup. Logan yelps as the needle pierces his skin, but within two seconds, it’s over. You rub his neck to distract him from the sting of the medicine, then return to your insulated bag to dispose of the syringe. Leigh watches closely as you finish with Logan, a slight frown creasing her forehead. You notice she's dressed in what you figure is her nightwear—a thin olive camisole and matching capri pants. It seems too dressed down for receiving a guest.
“Why are these vaccines so important, anyway?” she asks lightly, but you don’t miss her apprehension behind it. “I mean, he'll mostly be indoors…”
The frustration from her missing two appointments sneaks into your voice as you say, “Vaccines can mean the difference between life and death for puppies. Take the parvovirus—it's lethal and spreads quickly.”
Leigh nods, taking in the weight of your words. You notice her swallow, perhaps realizing the graveness of her oversight. “I didn't realize it was that serious,” she murmurs.
You catch yourself, realizing you might be coming across as harsher than necessary. “It's alright, Leigh. That's exactly why I came here,” you say mildly. You've dealt with many uneducated dog owners before, and Leigh is no different. You know you need to be patient with her, just as you have been with others, and you remind yourself not to let your personal feelings interfere with your professional opinions.
Logan wiggles happily at your feet, seemingly forgiving you for the shot already. “And another thing,” you add, glancing down at Logan’s round belly, “he’s put on quite a bit of weight. We need to watch his diet. Too much food isn’t good for him either.”
Leigh looks slightly embarrassed. “I guess I've been spoiling him with extra treats,” she admits. “I'll be more careful with that.”
“It’s okay. I know how hard it is to say ‘no’ to that face,” you say, smiling at Logan while you rub his chin. “Just keep to the recommended portions, and he’ll be in good shape.”
As you gather your things to leave, you remember Logan's vaccine card. After filling out the final details, you head towards the kitchen where Leigh has silently drifted off. She's busying herself with breakfast on the stove when you approach.
“Here's Logan's vaccine card,” you say, handing it to her. “He needs another dose in two weeks, so don't forget to schedule that in.”
“Thank you,” Leigh says, accepting the card with a nod. “I won't forget this time.”
The aroma of coffee wafts through the room, tickling your nose.
“I've just made some coffee. Would you like to stay for breakfast?” Leigh asks.
You hesitate, considering the offer, but you’re inclined to refuse, still irked by her missing the previous appointments. “I’m good, thanks,” you say, a bit too briskly. Leigh's face falls slightly, a look of disappointment flashing across her eyes before she gives you a small, resigned smile and turns back to the stove.
You start to leave but something stops you—the frustration from Leigh’s no-shows running over.
“Leigh, can I ask why you didn’t make it to the clinic? And not even a text,” you find yourself saying as you spin on your heels to face her. “It’s not just unprofessional—it hurts more coming from a friend.”
“If you have a problem with me, it’s perfectly okay to transfer Logan to another clinic as long as you’ll follow through with his appointments,” you suggest, noting her standing there, mouth agape, her vivid green eyes sharply focused. Getting that off your chest didn't bring the relief you expected. Instead, you're left with a sinking feeling of regret. Looking back on your words, you realize how petty they must have sounded.
Leigh on the other hand, is momentarily stunned by your outburst, her eyes wide as she absorbs your words. Then, something shifts in her expression, a flicker of intrigue crossing her features before she clears her throat and apologizes.
“I'm really sorry,” she says sincerely, turning off the stove and setting down her spatula. “I didn't handle things well, and you were right to call me out on it.” Leigh takes a careful step closer, causing you to instinctively step back until your lower back meets the edge of the dining table. You weren't expecting Leigh to be so understanding, leaving you unsure of how to react. Should you apologize for getting upset?
Fortunately, Leigh doesn't leave you to dwell on your thoughts for long. She continues, “Why don't you stay for breakfast? I can whip up something nice, and we can catch up like we used to. Please, let me make it up to you.”
Feeling like an absolute fool and still grappling with the aftertaste of your flare-up, you find yourself in a quandary. Rejecting her offer would just drag out this uncomfortable moment even longer, which is the last thing you want. Besides, your stomach is growling—you haven’t eaten anything since you got here, and the smell of brewing coffee is too good to ignore.
“Alright,” you relent, glancing down at your feet. “That sounds good.”
Leigh looks relieved. “Perfect, just give me a minute,” she says, clapping her hands together as she turns back to her cooking.
You linger awkwardly, still standing. “Need a hand with anything?” you ask.
“Just sit there, be all pretty, and relax.”
That little compliment makes your cheeks burn even hotter. If you weren’t so distracted by your hunger and embarrassment, you'd swear it’s almost as if she’s flirting with you.
Wait.
Is she?
Then, as if the universe can hear you thinking, Leigh’s phone buzzes loudly on the kitchen counter. She snatches it up, and even though you can’t see her face, you can tell she’s happy he called as she chirps, “Hey, Danny.”
Right. Danny Greer. That name shatters your brief daydream. Suzie was right—you're too close, and it's clouding your judgment. Leigh laughs into the phone, and you look away just in time for her to turn slightly and steal a glance at you.
Alright, you think, that's it. After this breakfast, it's time to really put some space between you and Leigh. You need to clear your head and let her have her space too. It's the best move, for the sake of your friendship and your sanity.
As Leigh busies herself in the kitchen, you find yourself aimlessly scrolling through your phone, not really focusing on anything. The sound of her laughter while she talks to Danny floats over to you, making you regret agreeing to stay for breakfast and blame your inability to say no to her.
She ends the call with a lingering smile and soon approaches with two plates in hand. Each has a stack of pancakes and two sunny-side-up eggs with the edges just crisped up how you like them. The fact that Leigh remembered leaves you speechless. It’s a small detail, but it makes you guilty for brooding and feeling all jealous.
“I hope you still like your eggs this way,” Leigh says as she sets the table.
“Thank you,” you say warmly as Leigh pours coffee for both of you. Recalling her preference, you offer to add two sugars to her cup, and she rewards you with a small, appreciative smile. She then grabs the syrup from the fridge, along with two sets of utensils, and places them on the table.
You take a bite of the fluffy pancakes, perfectly cooked and deliciously light. “These are amazing, Leigh,” you say enthusiastically.
Leigh beams, standing a bit taller with pride instead of dismissing the praise. “I'm glad you think so! I've been working on perfecting the recipe.”
“Seriously, Leigh, you could sell these.”
She laughs. “Keep the compliments coming and I might just make you breakfast more often.”
You almost choke at her words. You really should take a little break from Leigh until you can get this crush under control. Even simple remarks are starting to feel like a tightrope walk.
Leigh tilts her head slightly, a coy look crossing her face. “So…” she drawls, leaving the word hanging as she waits for you to look up from your plate.
You stop chewing once you sense her heavy gaze on you. “Hmm?”
Leaning in slightly, she lowers her voice as though about to share a secret. “This Sara... is she a friend of yours? Someone new around here?”
The piece of pancake suddenly feels like a mouthful of sawdust as you process her question. You grab your coffee and take a quick gulp to help wash it down. “I, uh, met her on a dating app, actually,” you say.
Leigh's eyebrow arches. “Oh?”
There’s a short, tense period where you repeatedly stab your pancake and tap your foot rapidly against the leg of the stool you’re sitting on, while Leigh twirls her hair around her finger, lost in thought.
“She’s gorgeous,” Leigh finally says. “I didn’t know you were into women.” That is, unless you and the person from her advice column are one and the same. She's chosen to approach what she's dubbed the “EspressoEyes conundrum” as a Schrödinger’s cat scenario, where you simultaneously do and do not have feelings for Leigh.
You fiddle with your coffee mug. “Yeah, I think I've mentioned that before,” you say, though your memory suddenly feels unreliable.
Leigh shakes her head, certain. “No, you definitely haven't told me that.”
“Well, yes, I'm into women, but obviously I like men too,” you say, deciding it's perhaps better to just be clear.
“We're the same then,” she says casually, as if discussing something as mundane as their taste in movies.
“Really?” You’re hoping Leigh is buying the faux surprise on your face, even though Jules had let slip about Leigh's college days.
“Yeah,” Leigh nods. “I had a serious relationship with a woman back in college. It's not something I talk about much, but it's part of who I am.”
“I see.”
Leigh takes a slow sip of her coffee, eyeing you over the rim of her mug with a slight tilt of her head.
“So, do you like her? Sara, I mean,” she asks.
“Yeah, she’s great. We get along really well.”
Leigh sets her coffee cup down with a small clink, not missing a beat. “Have you guys...you know, slept together?” she asks, more bluntly than before.
You shift uncomfortably in your seat, feeling a bit like you’re under interrogation. “Um…no, we haven’t.”
A quick glint flashes in her eyes before it vanishes. Her shoulders relax as she leans back in her chair. “Sorry, that was out of line,” she mumbles with a curt, dismissive laugh. “I guess I'm just being nosy.”
The way she said it doesn't truly suggest she's sorry for crossing some lines, but you’re not focusing on that. Rather, you feel like you’ve earned the right to ask Leigh some questions about her own personal affairs.
“And you?” you start, trying to sound flippant. “How are things with you and Danny?”
Leigh matches your nonchalance as she stands up to gather the empty plates from the table. There's a smooth, practiced ease in the way she begins cleaning up, letting you know she's not about to let your questions corner her.
“Things are... going,” she replies, keeping it vague. “Danny's great. We're figuring things out as we go.”
“Where'd you meet him?” you ask, already knowing the answer.
“He's Matt's brother,” Leigh says flatly, without flinching. You have to give it to her for being so straightforward about it. Not that you’re judging Leigh or anything—it’s just that moving from in-laws to lovers is quite an unconventional transition.
It’s also possible that you’re just bitter.
“Did you always find him attractive?” you ask, almost spitefully, curiosity getting the better of you. Leigh freezes, her back going rigid at your callous words. There's a moment of visible tension, but then she lets out a slow breath and lets it slide. She had been quite direct in probing about your dating life, so perhaps this levels the playing field.
“No, it wasn’t like that,” Leigh says slowly. “I—”
“Oh hey, Y/N, it's been a while!”
Neither of you heard the front door open. Jules bursts in, holding Logan who's wagging his tail wildly at the sight of familiar faces, both oblivious to the cutting atmosphere they've just entered.
“Oh hey, Y/N, it's been a while!” Jules exclaims. She looks between you and Leigh. “Am I interrupting something?” she asks, noticing the residual stiffness in the air.
“Y/N was just leaving,” Leigh says.
You don’t need to be told twice. “Hey, Jules,” you say with a short wave. “I just came to give Logan his shots.”
Jules frowns slightly as you start to leave so soon after her arrival. You reach over to give Logan a quick pat on the head. Turning to Leigh, you manage a tight smile and say, “Thanks for the breakfast.”
As soon as you're out the door, Jules turns to Leigh with a worried look. “What was all that about?” she asks softly.
Leigh shrugs, her expression inscrutable. “I don’t know what you mean,” she replies evenly, turning away to busy herself with the dishes.
-
You get into your car but instead of starting it, you just sit there motionless. Your hands rest aimlessly on the wheel as you lose yourself in thought.
Here’s the truth about Sara:
She's exactly your type on paper—blonde, blue-eyed, stunning. But despite all that, she hadn't managed to hold your attention. Her beauty just couldn't pull your mind away from Leigh, from her vivid green eyes that always seemed to see right through you.
The silence in the car allows you to realize what an odd question you had thrown at Leigh about Danny. You realize just how inappropriate it might have seemed, how it must have sounded coming from a place of jealousy rather than concern.
Why did you even ask that? The answer is uncomfortably clear: you can't be just friends with Leigh. Not anymore. You’ve been lying to yourself, hoping things would just sort themselves out. But they won’t. Not like this. You can’t keep doing this to yourself—or to her.
Because right now, this friendship, if you can even call it that, is doing more harm than good.
-
“It’s not working.”
Suzie looks up from her clipboard, startled. Her red locks tumble across her face as she tilts her head, brushing them back with a quick flick of her hand.
“Seeing other people, you mean?” she asks, already guessing the root of your distress.
You run a hand through your hair, messing up your low ponytail. Frustrated, you decide to let your hair loose from the tie altogether.
“I thought if I met someone like Sara—someone who’s practically a checklist of everything I find attractive—it would make things easier. But it’s just... not.” You massage your temples, as if trying to rub away the spell Leigh seems to have cast on you. “She's perfect, but she's not Leigh. And no matter how hard I try, I can't stop thinking about Leigh.”
“You're right about one thing though,” Suzie says, getting back to her task.
“Which is…?”
“That Sara’s perfect,” she chuckles, and you can't help but roll your eyes. “Look, you can’t force these feelings. If your heart’s not in it, it’s not in it.”
“So…Should I keep seeing her? Maybe she’ll grow on me or something.”
Suzie stops and gives you a serious look. “Maybe. But love shouldn't feel like an obligation, you know? It’s not fair to either of you if you’re just waiting to see if you’ll catch feelings.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” you acknowledge with a sigh. “She’s everything I thought I wanted. And I think she likes me.”
“Sometimes what we think we want isn’t what we really need,” Suzie answers. “Why not take a break? Give yourself some space to think. It might help you figure out what really works—whether it’s Sara, someone else, or just time to yourself.”
“You think so?”
Suzie gives a small shrug. “Look, I don’t have all the answers.”
Hearing that makes you feel a tad embarrassed. You’ve been leaning on her for advice a lot lately, and it’s probably awkward for her, especially since you're her boss. Maybe she’s just being nice because she has to be.
“Thanks, Sue,” you say, standing up from your chair to head back to your office. “I appreciate you listening to all this.”
She smiles back, and you can tell she’s relieved to move on from the subject. Suzie might not have all the answers, but maybe there’s another place you can find them.
-
That night, in your bedroom, you settle in front of your laptop, the cursor blinking expectantly on the blank submission form of the advice column. You type in your handle—EspressoEyes—a moniker you’d used before, thinking it would increase your chances of being noticed again. Quickly, you type out your query and hit send, watching as it disappears into the digital ether. No sooner have you shut your laptop than your phone rings. It’s your mom.
“Hey, Mom,” you answer, shifting to sit against your headboard.
“Hi, sweetheart! Are you coming home for Thanksgiving? We’re starting to plan the menu and would love to have you,” she says. Your chest tightens. Just hearing her voice makes you feel like you’re already home. You pretend to think for a second, considering your rather empty social calendar.
“Yeah, I’ll come home,” you decide, realizing it might be nice to get away for a bit.
“Oh good! It’s been too long. We’ll make sure to have all your favorites,” she chatters on, already listing the dishes that would normally make you salivate. But these days, you just don’t have the appetite for food.
“Sounds great, Mom. Really looking forward to it.”
You hang up with a promise to send your flight details soon. Setting your phone down, you feel a slight relief at the thought of escaping to a place where no one knows about the mess you’re in.
-
Leigh can’t sleep. She lies wide awake, staring at the ceiling while Danny's snores fill the room. The weight of his arm draped over her stomach feels stifling, trapping her in place. She can’t breathe. Carefully, so as not to wake him, she slips out from under his arm and tiptoes out of the bedroom. In the hallway, she grabs one of his shirts hanging over a chair and slips it on. It smells like sandalwood and something uniquely him—comforting yet somehow off-putting at the same time.
She pads into the kitchen to boil some water, the soft click of the stove burner igniting a comforting sound in the otherwise quiet apartment. With the kettle on, she wanders into the living room, pulling Danny's shirt closer around her. Even with the windows closed, the crisp chill of autumn seeps in.
Sitting on the couch, Leigh pulls her knees to her chest. The post-sex cocktail of oxytocin and vasopressin usually knocks her out, but tonight they fail her. Instead, her mind is filled with doubts and the urge to flee from any kind of closeness.
She remembers the last conversation with you, the disapproval on your face when you finally mentioned her relationship with Danny. It troubles her more than she expected. Were you right? Is she just scrambling to fit someone, anyone, into her life, even if it means ignoring the screams inside her head telling her to run?
The kettle whistles, snapping her out of her thoughts. She makes her tea and settles back into the couch, stirring slowly as she thinks about what it might mean to step back from everything—Danny, you, all of it.
With nothing but time until sleep takes her or the sun rises—whichever comes first—Leigh picks up her phone to distract herself. She scrolls through social media, news articles, anything to keep her mind off the spinning thoughts. Eventually, she wanders to the advice column inbox to check on the latest submissions.
Her breath catches in her throat when she sees another entry from EspressoEyes, a handle she recognizes—possibly yours. It reads:
“Is it wise to pursue other relationships if you have strong feelings for someone else? That someone is a friend, and staying just friends is becoming increasingly difficult. My feelings seem to be putting a strain on our relationship. Should I give myself some space?”
Leigh reads the message two more times. She sets her phone down, her thumb instinctively finding its way to her mouth where she nibbles at the nail, a nervous habit when she’s thinking long and hard. And the more she thinks about it, the more obvious it becomes. Of course, she's the friend you're talking about. This is you, openly struggling with your feelings for her. She had hoped things might change, might become less complicated when Sara came into the picture, but she was mistaken.
When she asked about Sara, Leigh was trying to gauge your feelings for her, wondering if Sara's presence meant she didn't need to worry about whether you were EspressoEyes or not. In her mind, if you were involved with Sara, it would imply you weren't interested in Leigh. But she surprised even herself by asking if you had slept with Sara, unsure why she needed to know that detail. Deep down, she couldn’t openly admit just how relieved she felt when you told her you hadn’t.
Leigh picks up her phone again and starts typing out a reply to the submission. When she’s done she tosses her phone somewhere on the couch and goes back to her tea. Sitting there, she watches as the sky outside shifts from dark to a wash of pastels.
-
A week later, Leigh’s phone vibrates incessantly on the table, the screen lighting up with Danny's name again. Finally, with a frustrated sigh, she turns it off and sets it aside. They've been cycling through breakups and makeups so often it's exhausting—a twisted routine, one that's leaving her more drained each time.
It's Halloween, and since she and Danny are off again, Leigh decides to take the night for herself. She picks Matt's favorite restaurant, which is fully decked out for the holiday, with jack-o'-lanterns lining the walls and eerie candles flickering on each table. She orders a pumpkin-spiced latte and a small plate of appetizers, settling in to enjoy her evening solo. Later, she’ll have that tiramisu that her late husband so adored.
Matt always loved this holiday because it was the one time of year Leigh would indulge him by dressing up as whatever comic book character he was into at the moment. They'd start the evening here for pre-dinner celebrations before meeting up with friends and family later on. But tonight, there are no costumes for Leigh; she's dressed simply in jeans and a cardigan, her face free of makeup, her hair tucked behind her ears to keep it out of the way while she eats.
As she waits, she watches families and couples in costumes come and go, a bittersweet creeping up at her.
Then, you walk in. You’re dressed sharply, scanning the room like you're meeting someone—on a date. Leigh catches her breath. Were you aware that this was Matt’s favorite restaurant? Moreover, it’s been almost two weeks since that awkward morning when you left in a haste. You haven’t noticed her yet. Leigh watches you for a moment, debating what to do. She’s torn between going over or staying put. The last she contributed to the advice column, she’d left a message she hoped you'd find useful if you were indeed the person she’s been advising to. From the look of things, maybe you were taking that advice after all.
Taking a deep breath, Leigh stands and walks over. As you turn and notice her, a small, tentative smile appears on her lips when your eyes meet.
“Hey.”
You return the smile, though it's imbued with a bit of wariness. She appreciates it nonetheless.
“Hey,” you say.
Leigh doesn't beat around the bush; she gets straight to the point of why she came over. “Look, I'm sorry,” she says, the words coming out almost demandingly. “About last time. I crossed a line asking about Sara.”
There's an unmistakable assertiveness to her apology, carrying the same confidence and directness with which she usually addresses any issue. She doesn’t bow her head or wring her hands; instead, she holds your gaze steadily, expecting her apology to be taken as seriously as she means it.
“It’s okay. I wasn’t exactly in line myself when I brought up Danny,” you say, looking up at her. Then, searching for something else to say, you ask, “So, are you here to meet Danny?”
Leigh seems unfazed by the mention of Danny, yet again. You feel a bit silly soon after, realizing that after just acknowledging the awkwardness of digging into each other’s romantic lives, here you are, doing it again. You just can’t help yourself, can you?
“No. I’m on my own tonight,” she replies. Then she mirrors your earlier question, a slight tilt to her head. “And you? Here with Sara?”
“No, things didn’t push through with Sara. I’m meeting someone new,” you say, the words feeling strange as they come out. It was a simple yes or no question, and you're not quite sure what compelled you to open up about the specifics of your dating life.
Leigh just nods, her face neutral, not giving away anything in reaction to your news. “I should let you get back to your, uh, date,” she says, then quietly returns to her seat.
Having a date with a stranger just a few feet away from the woman you truly care about is about as ironic as the universe can be.
-
You’re on your second americano, the bitter taste barely registering as you glance at your watch for the umpteenth time. It's been thirty minutes past the time your date was supposed to arrive, and there's still no sign of him.
The restaurant has filled up around you. Families are tucked into booths, laughing and sharing plates piled high with food. Groups of friends clink glasses in cheerful toasts, and couples lean close, whispering and smiling over candlelit tables. Sitting alone at a table set for two, you start to feel conspicuously isolated.
The last two texts you sent within the hour remain unanswered, their blue bubbles on the screen marking the time you spent waiting. Determined to find some explanation, you open the dating app where you met him, your fingers tapping nervously. There, his profile pops up, showing that he is currently online. Relief washes over you for a moment—maybe there's a reasonable explanation. He might still show up. But as you tap the message icon to send him a query about his whereabouts, a sudden notification stops you: you can no longer message this user.
Feeling disheartened and embarrassed, you can’t help but feel all kinds of ugly for being stood up by someone who doesn’t even mean anything to you. Did he see you waiting and decide not to meet? What about you turned him off? You find yourself scrutinizing everything about your appearance. Was it what you were wearing—perhaps not feminine enough for his taste? Your hair was pulled back, exposing your forehead; maybe he didn't like that look. Or was it your posture—too slouched or too stiff? You even wonder if he might have passed someone else on his way here, someone he found more attractive. It's unsettling to realize how quickly the self-confidence you've spent years building can be shaken in just one evening.
You signal the waiter for the check. Although your stomach is growling, the thought of eating anything seems impossible right now. You're just focused on getting out of there as quickly as you can. Just as you finish paying, Leigh appears at your table. Without a word, she slides into the seat across from you. You're surprised to see her, and although you're not really in the mood for company or conversation, her presence is somehow less intrusive than you would expect.
“I couldn't help but notice your date never arrived,” Leigh comments with an amused smile, inadvertently adding salt to the wound. You think to yourself, Way to rub it in, Leigh, but you're too drained to actually say anything confrontational, so you just mumble a small, “Yeah.”
Leigh leans in a bit closer, lowering her voice as if she's about to let you in on a secret.
“Want to get out of here?”
-
It’s definitely not a date. Far from it.
It’s just two friends winding up spending Halloween together by chance.
It’s what Leigh keeps telling herself.
Leigh didn’t know what came over her when she went back to your table. She hadn't thought she'd be asking you to ditch the restaurant and wander the city for the rest of the night—together. What she did know was that she had been eating unusually slowly, glancing over at you occasionally to see how your evening was unfolding. But as it became painfully obvious that your date was a no-show, she couldn’t take it; seeing you left to handle the disappointment alone was more than she could bear.
Turning to Leigh in your car, you ask, “Do you mind if we stop first at the 7-Eleven on Main? I haven't had dinner yet.”
“What kind of dinner can you get from a 7-Eleven?” she asks.
You shrug and say, “Donuts.”
At the 7-Eleven, you grab a box of assorted donuts, and on a whim, you also pick up a few cans of beer to go along with them. With snacks in hand, you drive to a spot that overlooks the city—the same one where Leigh took you after getting takeouts the first time around. It’s not secluded—there’s a small crowd, with several cars parked and groups of people lounging on their car hoods.
“I wasn’t always attracted to him,” Leigh murmurs, after finishing her first beer. You both sit side-by-side with the trunk of your car open, swinging your legs while Leigh’s are crossed over the edge of the trunk.
You glance over at her, a curious ‘Hm?’ escaping your lips, though they're still full of donuts.
Leigh chuckles at your reaction, finding the sight of your cheeks stuffed with food more endearing than she probably should.
“Danny,” she clarifies with a sigh. “I actually used to hate him. He was always such a burden on Matt. Always dragging him into trouble.”
You think about what she's said, then offer a perspective, “You know, they say hate isn't the opposite of love, it's indifference. So maybe there’s always been something there, something more than just annoyance.”
Leigh leans back, stretching her arms out behind her for support as she considers your point. You find yourself wondering what's going through her mind. Is your honesty drawing her even closer to Danny? You could have exploited her past feelings, suggesting that maybe she's always disliked Danny and is confusing her loneliness for love. But you choose not to manipulate her emotions, even if it might be easy to sway her. You won't take advantage of her vulnerability just to get what you want.
Though you can’t deny that the temptation is there.
“Leigh, can I ask you a question?” you say, watching her closely.
She nods, her face open and expectant as she pops open another can of beer.
“How did you find out about me and Matt?”
Leigh takes a sip before answering. “Didn’t I mention it before?”
You purse your lips and shake your head, maintaining a neutral expression as you encourage her to elaborate.
“Danny told me,” Leigh reveals after a brief pause.
“What exactly did he tell you?”
Leigh hesitates, her eyes flickering to the side before meeting yours again. She sets the can down, her fingers drumming against the aluminum in a slow, rhythmic pattern.
“He just flat-out told me one night. I didn't believe him at first, so he mentioned your name to prove it, and I pieced together the rest. I tried to learn everything I could about you, where you lived... and that’s how I discovered your clinic in the city. And I... well, you know the rest,” she says. From what Leigh said, you easily conclude that Danny hadn't come clean to her about his role in facilitating your relationship with Matt. He had conveniently removed himself from the narrative, leaving out his involvement entirely. Lost in thought, you don't realize you've grown quiet until Leigh's voice pulls you back.
“Why do you ask?”
If you answer that question, you don’t believe you can continue hiding the truth about Danny any longer. As you watch Leigh, relaxed in the back of your car, her hair tousled by the gentle evening breeze, you're torn. You're afraid of disrupting her peace. The truth, as it often has, seems only to bring her pain. So, you buy yourself some time to think.
“Do you ever wish he had just kept it to himself? That you never knew any of this?”
Leigh appears briefly disconcerted by the question. She takes some time to think about how to respond, and you give her the time she needs, reaching for another piece of donut from the box. At this rate, you're on track to polish off half a dozen all by yourself.
“Knowing the truth hurt—a lot. It felt like I was suddenly a stranger to my own life,” Leigh says, looking somewhere distant before her eyes return to you. “But then again, knowing has changed how I see things, how I see him—and even how I see you. It’s given me a chance to see things as they really are, not just how I want them to be.”
“You never would’ve met me,” you say with a light-hearted grin, almost suggesting that maybe it was better she hadn’t. But Leigh gives you a look, a gentle sadness in her eyes that makes it clear she doesn’t entertain the thought of not having met you.
“What about you? Do you wish things had stayed hidden?” she asks, turning the question back on you.
A part of you—a very significant part—trembles on the edge of laying bare your feelings for her.
Fiddling with the edge of the donut box, you let a small smile flicker across your lips, but it doesn't reach your eyes. “There's something to be said for not knowing everything. Sometimes, ignorance really is bliss,” you say softly. “I mean, not knowing can save you from a lot of unnecessary heartache.”
As you speak, you’re still weighing whether knowing Leigh is turning into an unnecessary heartbreak.
Leigh nods slowly, the corners of her mouth lifting in a bittersweet smile. “Well, when you put it that way, maybe not knowing some things is for the best.”
It feels like a silent agreement on that fine line between knowing everything and being happier not knowing. Perhaps what you can do for now is spare Leigh from her own unnecessary heartbreak. If what she has with Danny is working, why ruin it?
“You know what's missing here? Music,” Leigh muses, reaching for her third beer. “Oh, and you better keep up,” she adds, glancing at the single beer you’ve had.
“Or how about you pace yourself? I'd hate for the party to end too soon for you,” you quip slyly.
Leigh grins, unfazed by your warning. She leans closer, and her breath, warmed by the beers, brushes against your cheek. “Speaking of parties, I actually got invited to this Halloween bash tonight. Everyone's supposed to be in costume, and there will definitely be music. We should go. What do you say?”
You pretend to think about it, but you’re already clearing out your trunk and hopping off it as you reply, “Well, you did say you needed music.”
-
A party isn’t really your scene.
Leigh is already tipsy by the time you both arrive at it. People are either clad in bulky costumes or barely dressed at all. Halloween decorations dangle from the ceiling, a foot or two above the faces of the revelers as strobe lights flash in erratic bursts. You weave through a crowd of zombies and sexy nurses, the bass from the DJ's speakers vibrating under your feet.
As you're both making your way toward the bar, a co-worker spots Leigh and pulls her aside excitedly. “Leigh, over here!” they shout over the noise, grabbing her arm. She turns back to you with a slightly apologetic grin. “Just a sec, I'll catch up!” she promises, before being swallowed by the crowd, her hand slipping from your arm.
But that was half an hour ago.
Now, you're feeling dizzy from the alcohol that's been keeping you company in Leigh's absence, and the sea of masked and painted faces around you is starting to merge into a blur. You round a corridor that brings you back to the main room and finally, you spot her. Leigh is near the dance floor, laughing with a group dressed in characters you don’t recognize. She sees you and waves excitedly, her movements a bit too exaggerated. You make your way over, dodging a particularly enthusiastic witch.
“Found you,” you say, as you reach her side.
Leigh grins, her eyes bright. “Dance with me!” she yells over the music, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward the throng of sweaty bodies. Too exhausted to argue, you let her lead you into the chaos. As the music takes over and you both start to dance, the rest of the party fades into the background. Leigh's hand is warm in yours, her other hand reaching up to loop around your neck. The music swells, and the crowd presses in, pushing you closer together. Her breath is sweet with the tang of alcohol, and her cheeks are flushed.
Leigh’s movements become less and less coordinated as she leans into you, her body heavenly against yours. Her lips come dangerously close to yours, barely brushing against them, and for a moment—surrounded by her warmth and scent—you're tempted. You want her, deeply, irrevocably—
But not like this.
You firm your hands on her hips, pushing her slightly away. “Hey, let's get some air, yeah?” you suggest calmly despite your heart going crazy in your chest.
She looks up at you, a bit confused but nods, her smile unfaltering. You take her hand again and guide her off the dance floor. Moving through the crowd proves to be a challenge with Leigh's unsteady steps. She stumbles, laughing as she clings to your arm for support.
“I almost ate it back there!” she exclaims, still giggling.
“Yeah, you did,” you mutter distractedly. As the festive sounds of the party fade behind the closed door, reality slaps you both with a sobering chill. Leigh is simply too drunk, and you’re almost a fool for nearly taking advantage of that. You can't concentrate on anything but what nearly happened back there.
You feel Leigh’s hand slip back into yours, slotting in place like magnets that just fit together. Her laughter has quieted, and she leans into you slightly, resting her head on your shoulder. It's then you realize that a drunken Leigh is more affectionate and less aware of physical boundaries—dangerous.
“You know, maybe we should call it a night? I can take you home,” you suggest, making an effort not to lean into her, even though the intoxicating mix of her shampoo and the faint scent of sweat beckons you closer.
Her reaction is immediate and surprisingly lucid. “I can’t go home like this,” Leigh protests, straightening up. “Jules has her own Halloween thing tonight, and I can't show up drunk and be seen like this by her. She’s been sober for a year now; I can’t just...” Her voice trails off, filled with worry.
You glance at your wrist and see it's already 2 AM. A sigh escapes you as the reality of your early morning responsibilities begins to weigh in. You have to be up in four hours to open the clinic at 8 AM, and staying out to make sure Leigh fully sobers up is far from feasible. Leigh appears exhausted, her eyes heavy, even as she tries to muster a smile.
“Listen, Leigh,” you say, eyeing a practical solution. “I have an early start tomorrow, and you look like you need some rest. How about you crash at my place tonight? You can sleep it off and head home in the morning when you’re feeling better.”
Leigh seems to consider this for a moment, her gaze drifting towards the street where groups of men glance their way as they pass by. Finally, she nods meekly, looking relieved.
“That sounds really good right now. My head feels heavy, and I just want to go to sleep,” she mumbles, letting out a weary sigh and rubbing her eyes. You help her to her feet and steady her as you both walk back to your car, which is fortunately parked nearby. Leigh curls up in the passenger seat, and you crack the windows to let in some fresh air.
Once home, you give Leigh some clothes to change into and then start setting up the couch for yourself, grabbing an extra pillow and blanket from the cupboard. As you turn back a while later, you see Leigh, in her slightly tipsy state, misinterpreting your preparations. She gives a small, tired smile and plops down onto the couch. Reacting quickly, you catch her just before she falls completely into it.
“W-What are you doing?” she whispers, surprised as she finds herself practically in your arms, half-carried in a bridal style.
You feel the heat rise from your cheeks to your chest, aware of how close she is. “This is for me,” you say, nodding towards the couch, “you’re taking the bed.”
To avoid any further confusion, you slowly lift her up, wrapping an arm securely around her waist as you guide her to your bedroom. Leigh’s head remains tucked in your neck, her body relaxed and yielding as you move.
“You really don’t have to do this,” she mumbles against your skin, though her tone suggests she’s grateful for your care. You don’t see the blush that has crept to her own cheeks, your eyes fixed straight ahead.
“It’s no trouble at all,” you assure her as you gently set her down on your bed. “Make yourself comfortable. The mattress’ much better for a good night's sleep.”
Leigh nods, pulling the covers around her. “Thank you,” she says, her voice soft and more sober now.
“Anytime,” you respond with a reassuring smile. “Good night, Leigh.” You close the bedroom door softly behind you and retreat to the couch.
“Good night, Y/N…” Leigh whispers to herself, a faint smile touching her lips as she nestles deeper into the bed.
#unbetad#my writing#my fic#elizabeth olsen x reader#elizabeth olsen#leigh shaw x reader#leigh shaw x female reader#leigh shaw#sorry for your loss au#leigh shaw x you#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x you#sorry i had to tag wanda x reader for visibility
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Goldfish
Summary: Matt has a chronic illness that the nurses at his local clinic are all too familiar with. The new nurse in town hasn't had a chance to meet him yet, but what happens when she does?
Pairing: Matt x nursefem!reader
Warnings: Mentions of needles and blood, chronic illness, use of medical steroids, flirty nurse!reader (this is all fiction!), Matt is 20/reader is 23, Matt has a service dog!!
Word Count: Just over 2k
A/N: This is lowkey inspired by the experience I had a few days ago with a flirty nurse while I was in the ER (I'm still thinking about him--had me giggling n kicking my feet n shit like I was in a rom com [this is definitely a story time]). ANYWAY, Matt has PFAPA (my chronic illness!) here. It's usually a childhood thing, but some rare cases like myself don't grow out of it. You can read more about it here, if you'd like. Enjoy!!
Matt Sturniolo is all too familiar with his local pediatric emergency room. In fact, he’s been there so many times that the nurses have started to treat him as less of a patient, and more of a friend. “Hey Matt!”, “How’s YouTube going, Matt?”, “I remember you!”, “I saw you last time!”, and the list went on. Some might ask why he still went there at almost 21, but when you had a chronic illness, it was best to see the people who had been caring for you for years if you could. These nurses had been caring for him at least once a month, ever since he was 12, and were usually quite skilled in how to manage the brunette’s comfort.
Matt had PFAPA, which left him with high fevers and extremely sore, almost strep like sore throats every month. It was a miserable thing to live, and it really impacted his happiness, especially on days like today when he was having one of the worst flare ups he’d had in a long time and both Nick and Chris were unable to come along with him to the doctor. Luckily for Matt, he had his service dog, Emily, with him, but he still longed for a human companion as well. While some people wondered why he ‘needed’ a service dog, Matt’s disability was invisible. Emily would let him know when his flare ups were starting as well as laying on him to soothe his body aches and chills and helping with his anxiety at doctor visits.
The nurse tech took him into the back rather quickly, running their usual tests of strep, the flu, and COVID. About 98% of the time, they would all come back negative, but the hospital staff liked to do all they could to make Matt more comfortable. Sure enough, the nurse practitioner stepped in about 30 minutes later, a sad look on her face.
“How are you feeling, Matt?”
Matt shrugged, grimacing as his throat ached when he swallowed. “‘M not great.” he murmured, petting his pup’s head softly as the anxiety welled in his chest.
“Well, everything came back negative,” she told, a sad look on her face. “We can test you for mono, though. You have a lot of the symptoms for that. That one is a blood test. We’re also going to give you an IV since you’re dehydrated.”
That sentence alone made him want to cry. Despite the tattoos and piercings he had, Matt hated medical needles. They hurt and they freaked him out. Sensing his anxiety, Emily scooted closer to Matt, whining softly and butting his leg with her head. Matt pet the dog’s head softly, steadying himself to get his breath. “Okay…” he breathed, steadying himself.
The nurse practitioner patted his leg gently, hurrying out of the room to attend to her other patients. Matt began to panic, his breathing rapidly increasing as tears welled in his eyes. He didn’t want any of this. He just wanted them to tell him what was wrong so he could get some meds, go home, and sleep. Patting the bed he was laying on gently, Emily hopped up, curling into Matt’s side. The pooch rested her head on her owner’s chest, subconsciously working to slow the brunette’s heart rate.
A few minutes later, another nurse and a lab tech stepped into the small room he was in, holding a tray full of supplies. Matt squeezed his eyes shut tightly at the sight, already dreading the feeling of getting blood drawn. Both healthcare workers were very kind, of course, whispering soft nothings to him as they patted his leg and prepared to draw his blood. They promised him that the procedure would be quick and easy, but those words never mixed well with a chronic illness.
“Your vein rolled because you’re dehydrated. We’re going to have to draw from your other arm.” the lab tech informed him.
“O…kay.” Matt whispered shakily, trying to get his breath and the feeling in his hand back.
The brunette knew that it was okay to cry, but that didn’t make it any less embarrassing. He was a grown man, laying here in a kid’s hospital room, trying not to cry while they tried to draw his blood again in his right arm. Unfortunately for Matt, the dehydration he was experiencing from his extremely sore throat caused his vein to roll again.
“Oh sweetheart,” the nurse said sympathetically, patting his leg. “We’re going to give you a minute, okay? Let’s get some water and Gatorade in you before we try again.”
Matt just nodded as he was passed a mini water bottle and a cherry Gatorade. He was hearing their words, but honestly, he didn’t care. All he knew was that he was going to be poked and prodded again, and he didn’t like it. Emily snuggled into his side, whining softly and brushing her sandpaper tongue against her owner’s arm, trying desperately to get Matt to feel better.
“Alright, honey,” the sweet, older nurse stepped into Matt’s room again, holding a fresh tub of supplies to draw his blood. “Let’s try it in your left hand, okay?”
Because chronic illness never made things easy, the third time was still a failure, leaving Matt with an already bruising hand and tears pricking his eyes. Before he knew it, he was being shoved a packet of goldfish crackers, a popsicle, and more water, being informed that he had to eat before they could try again. The snacks felt like swallowing shrapnel, making the boy cringe every time he had to swallow.
“Hello, oldest patient of the day!” You cheered, practically walking into Matt’s room on a cloud of glitter.
Matt jumped in shock, petting his dog’s head to calm his racing heart. “...hi…” he mumbled.
“They called me in for backup,” You explained, a smile on your face. You absolutely loved nursing, and every day at your job truly felt like a gift. You’d graduated from nursing school last year at the top of your class and had been working in the pediatric emergency room ever since. It wasn’t every day that you had a patient who was 20, but you didn’t mind. “We’re getting this blood draw this time so you can get the fuck out of here,” You slapped a hand over your mouth. “Shit, I’m sorry. I hope you don’t mind if I curse.”
For the first time all day, a small giggled made its way out of Matt’s mouth. “No, I’m okay.”
“I see you have a buddy,” You commented. “That’s nice.”
“She helps my…anxiety.” Matt seemingly chose his words carefully, but they still made you smile. It was clear that the boy had a bond with his pup.
“I’m gonna look at your tonsils first so we can get you some medicine to help you swallow and then we’ll draw your blood, okay?” You asked, wanting to make sure your patient was comfortable with everything.
At the mention of a blood draw, Matt’s blue eyes widened with anxiety, his body becoming visibly tense. You had become in tune with this, sliding on a pair of pink latex gloves and patting the soft material of the pajama pants on his knee.
“Hey, look at me,” You murmured softly, waiting for his response. Once Matt had looked at you, you chugged on. “We’re just chilling, okay? I’m not going to do anything yet.”
Matt nodded, letting out an anxious breath he’d been holding. “Okay.” he whispered.
You grabbed the flashlight to look in his throat off the wall. “Alright, I’m pretty sure you know the drill,” You chuckled. “Open and say ‘ahhh!’...oh yeah, you’ve got an icky throat. That looks like it hurts. Although…did you have a blue popsicle? You’ve got blue tonsils. It’s rather endearing.”
Matt flushed, his ears going red as he nodded. You smiled softly, throwing away the cap and hanging the flashlight back on the wall. You gave the boy the steroidal liquid the nurse practitioner had drawn up for him to ease the swelling in his throat, a blush creeping onto your face as Matt scrunched his eyes up at the disgusting taste, quite literally making grabby hands for his Gatorade.
“Fuck, that’s gross.” he whined.
“At least you got it over with!” You hummed cheerfully, in a small aim to make him feel better. “Unfortunately, it’s time for the bad part, but we can make it a little less shitty if you want? Maybe you could play me some music? Something you like, okay?”
Matt fiddled with his phone for a moment before landing on Dominic Fike’s latest release. You smiled at the lyrics, releasing this was one of your favorite songs at the moment. You prepped the materials needed to finally get Matt’s blood drawn for the mono test, patting his knee gently in an effort to calm his trembling frame as he rubbed his pup’s head.
“Hey, can I tell you something?” You whispered shyly, setting him up for the procedure. “You’ve got goldfish in your teeth–it’s really cute.” You giggled, your own cheeks becoming red.
The brunette whined, breathing deeply as you began to draw his blood. “That’s embarrassing.” he grunted.
A few deep breaths and small, sad noises later, you had finally gotten the sample needed. “We got it!” You told Matt excitedly, placing a Barney band aid across the site. “All done!”
You bustled around the room, making sure Matt was comfortable, throwing away your supplies, and making notes on your clipboard. You helped the boy drink water and got him (and Emily) a blanket, before taking his samples down to the lab to get checked out. By the time everything was said and done, an hour had passed and Matt was asleep against the small bed when you knocked on his door.
“Hey sleepyhead,” You giggled, stepping into the room. “Nice nap?” Matt fisted his eyes, nodding as you went over his discharge instructions. You always hated releasing patients with no explanations or answers as to why they felt so bad, but in cases like Matt’s, that wasn’t always possible. Your best bet was to make him as comfortable as possible here. “Do you have any questions?”
The brunette shook his head, finally able to speak now that the steroids were beginning to work their magic on his throat. “No, but thank you. You’ve been the best nurse I’ve had all day…maybe even ever.”
You blushed at the compliment, helping the boy stand since you knew he was already exhausted, dehydrated, and lightheaded from having his blood drawn. “Do you need help getting to your car? I actually just got off.” You murmured shyly, glancing at the clock on the wall.
Despite Matt’s steadiness on his feet and his grip on Emily’s leash, the blue-eyed boy nodded all the same, a quietly flustered look crossing his face. You smiled yourself, maneuvering Matt out to his car with a firm, yet gentle hand on his lower back. Thankfully, the waiting room had quieted down quite a bit now that it was nearing the evening, so no one questioned or pulled you away from walking Matt out. It was a slow trek with your patient being a bit unsteady on his feet, but you didn’t mind. Matt’s presence made you happy in an odd sort of way; you hated that he wasn’t well and that this would continue to happen for him, but you couldn’t stop your mind from thinking about seeing him again.
“I um…I hope this isn’t weird, but I would really like to see you again. Maybe another time? When you’re not in pain?” You coughed and chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck.
He smiled as he slid into the driver’s seat, rubbing his aching head that was seemingly getting better just by being around you. “I’d like that,” he offered. “I’d like that a lot, actually.”
Matt didn’t end up leaving his trip to the hospital with many answers beside the usual ‘It’s your chronic illness’, but what he did end up leaving with was your phone number scribbled onto a pink sticky note that he had been given in the parking lot.
tags ♡: @jake-and-johnnies-slut @chrissfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxysc-blog @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @spencereidenthusiast @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @sturncakez @junnniiieee07 @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @patscorner @julesgrl @0strawberrysorbet0 @strombolilovr @matt444nixi @remussbitch @devthepoet1221 @mattyblover07 @loisnotaa @mollyquinnxoxo @graysturns @pepsicolapussy333 @ginswife @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @m00n-0n-paws @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @raysmayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @billsslutt @aemrsy
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#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo#matthew sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo fanfic#matthew sturniolo imagine#matthew bernard sturniolo#matthew sturniolo x reader#the sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo imagines#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo x reader#nick sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#christopher sturniolo#christopher owen sturniolo#chris sturniolo smut#sturniolo#sturniolo triplets smut#sturniolo fanfic#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets x reader#sturniolo triplets fanfic
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Our Aurora : Chapter 3
Poly!Ot8!Ateez x afab/female!Reader
Summary: Attending university with your eight boyfriends wasn’t easy, neither was sharing a mansion with them.
Warnings: MDNI, this mini series includes tons of smut, slight violence, protective ateez, poly relationship, established relationship, mentions of mxm, choking, other smut themes.
SMUT ONLY CHAPTER
WC: 1.9k
AU: University
Genre: Smut/fluff
Nets: @newworldnet
Tags: @deltamoon666 @watermelon2319 @justconniez @a-teez-4-exo @mingtinysworld @certifiedmoa @kittkat44 @sanhwalvr @spenceatiny18 @vtyb23 @sousydive @haebaragisworld @yourallaround-simp @therealcuppicake @ja3hwa @angel-hyuckie @mingisdoll @minkilicious @hwallazia
SERIES MASTERLIST
“Jongho?” You called out to your boyfriend in the passenger seat.
Yunho glanced at you from the rear view mirror, already seeing you unbuckle yourself in the backseat, “Y/N, put that seat belt back on this-“
“No. Jongho, please take your cock out.” You licked your lips as you leaned over the console from the backseat.
Jongho dropped his phone in his lap, “W-what?” You and Yunho had just picked Jongho up from soccer practice and you were horny as fuck.
“What the fuck, Y/n?” Jongho slowly turned to stare at you.
“You heard me, whip your cock out.” You stared down at his clenched fists.
Yunho gripped the steering wheel, he wanted to watch so bad, watch his girlfriend give his boyfriend a handjob.
“Yes, I did in fact hear you, but..” Jongho sighed, “We are on the highway, I can’t just take my dick out.”
“Jongho, baby, the windows are tinted, if you don’t want to, that’s fine.” You sat back in your seat, “I’ll just fuck myself back here.”
Yunho growled and you both stopped what you were doing to look at him, “Fuck, you two are so annoying.” He pushed his glasses up his nose and swerved to find an empty lot, cars honking at him for driving recklessly.
When he found a safe place, he turned off the car, “Y/N, up here, now.”
You grumbled to yourself and climbed up front, not sure who to sit on, “Um..”
Yunho pushed his seat back and reclined it, yanking you to sit on his lap, “You just couldn’t wait till we got home to fuck the star boy, could you? Should I punish you?” You let out a whimper as he grinded you on his bulge.
Jongho let out a loud gulp as he palmed his growing erection, “Yunho..don’t you think-“
“Shut up, Jongho, unless you want me to punish you too.” Yunho had thrown his glasses in the backseat and glared at the younger male.
You smacked Yunho’s shoulder, “Stop being mean to him, he didn’t do anything.” Yunho quirked up his lip in annoyance, grabbing your throat with his long fingers.
“I really should shut that mouth of yours, shouldn’t I?” His other hand came to palm your covered breast, “Because all you seem to do is yap and yap.”
Jongho didn’t know what to do in this moment, he froze up. He could only watch as his male lover fondled your body and roughed you up. He watched as Yunho latched his lips onto your collarbone. His cock was aching by now, begging to be freed from his shorts.
Yunho ripped open your shirt to access more of your chest, “Yunho!” You gasped, the sudden air exposure bringing chills to your nipples.
This was so hot in Jongho’s eyes, he couldn’t take it anymore and pulled his cock out. He sighed in relief and rested his head on the headrest, closing his eyes as he listened to your moans and whines. All because of Yunho.
Yunho gripped your waist tightly, “Strip. Bare.”
You didn’t even hesitate, just too excited to finally have a cock inside of you after being horny all day. You’d take any of your boyfriends.
Jongho lightly panted from the side, “Yunho, please, I need to be inside of her. Can we go home?”
Yunho slapped your ass and stared at Jongho, “You can wait, I’m going in first. So be patient like the little good boy you are, got it? Maybe I’ll fuck you after.”
Jongho didn’t want to wait, he’s been so pent up with his never ending practices, especially with the big game coming up. He just wanted to be inside one of his lovers or maybe the other way around. He just didn’t have time. He could only suffer as he watched Yunho caress and fondle your body. He could only watch as your bare body shivered from the cold air. He could only watch as Yunho’s long fingers slip inside your dripping cunt, eager and ready to suck his digits in.
Your body arched towards Yunho, your nipples pressing against his warm cardigan. You had enough of his teasing and rocked your hips but he gripped your hip with free hand, forcing you to stop.
“Did I say you could move, brat?” His eyes were glazed over in either anger or lust. You honestly couldn’t tell.
A whimper escaped your throat, “I’m sorry, Yuyu.”
A smirk painted his cheeks, “There’s a good girl, now behave.”
Jongho couldn’t even touch his neglected cock, too afraid of what Yunho would do. As much as he wanted to fuck his fist right there, he couldn’t. He didn’t want the punishment he knew would come. He just knew Yunho would tie him up with a vibrator tied to his cock head, never letting him cum. He didn’t want that. He couldn’t handle it.
All he wanted was to fuck his girlfriend.
Yunho reached between the two of your bodies and unbuckled his pants, allowing his long and thick cock to slip out, hitting your abdomen.
“I’m gonna fuck you, cum inside, then, we’re go home. And then, you’re gonna lay on the bed, Jongho is gonna fuck you, if he’s a good boy. While he’s doing that, I’m gonna fuck him. Sound good?” Yunho rubbed your waist and pulled out his fingers, your slick sticking to his fingers. A perfect example of how you never wanted to separate from any of your lovers.
“Yes!” You cried out.
“Yes what?”
“Yes, sir. Please, cum inside, sir!”
“That’s a good girl.” Yunho and Jongho watched as he pushed his cock inside, the sound of you whimpering caught their attention. They couldn’t help but groan.
Yunho was stretching you out so good. You never will get used to it and you know it.
Jongho fisted his shorts. He just couldn’t take the way he watched your cunt suck in Yunho with such ease. It didn’t help that you had eight boyfriends to stretch your hole whenever you wanted. You weren’t loose by any means, you were tight still. But you had such skill to easily take Yunho as big as he is.
Yunho guided your waist up and down, grinning as he saw your face contort into something of pure pleasure. He went to cup your breast, the cold metal of his rings brought shivers to your skin.
You moaned as his cock hit all the right places. The car windows were beginning to steam up from the sex. To top it off, Jongho couldn’t take it anymore and wrapped his fingers around his thick cock, muttering curses under his breath.
A ring of your slick and cum wrapped around Yunho’s cock. His heavy breathing did not help the steamy air, nor the way his hand gripped his girth. He was imagining he was the one inside of you, twisting his fist and pumping with each movement that Yunho made, just to simulate as if he was the one fucking you into oblivion. He knew he’d get his turn but he was impatient.
He’d just have to wait his turn.
-
Jongho carried you up the stairs, ignoring your other boyfriends calls, it was his turn and he wanted it badly.
Yunho was grinning ear to ear as he followed the two of you to your bedroom.
Jongho threw onto the bed, already stripping himself of his soccer uniform. He was ready to pounce, “Come on, pretty, strip for us.” He gave his standing cock a few strokes and waited in anticipation.
Yunho made his way to the seat in the corner.
When Jongho finally had his cock head to your entrance, you just couldn’t wait and whined for his body to be pressed against yours.
“Jongho, please, hurry, want you inside already.”
“Patience, Y/N.” He grabbed his base and slowly pushed in, groaning as your cunt squeezed his thick girth, “Fuck, Yunho just stretched you out and you’re still tight?” Jongho couldn’t take the way you felt around him, he wanted to cum then and there.
Yunho licked his lips while he watched you struggle to take Jongho, even if he did just fuck you in the car. He wanted to laugh, but kept it to himself. He wasn’t a maniac. Well, maybe a little. He liked making you scream and cry on his cock. With him, Jongho, and Mingi being the biggest cocks out of your eight boyfriends, he knew you struggled to take each one.
It was funny and cute.
Your fingernails scraped along Jongho’s back as he pounded into your hole, sparing no mercy. He was so happy to finally be snug inside.
Your whimpers and moans filled the room, the skin slapping could be heard in the separate rooms. If Seonghwa was home, and in his room you were sure he’d be pissed right now. Seeing as now is around the time he usually studies.
“Come on, Y/N, you can do it. Take my cock like the good girl you are.” Jongho grunted, gripping your waist tightly, “Come on, baby, have this tight cunt make me cum.” He could feel Yunho’s cum each time he fucked into you, the squelching didn’t help it.
“Jongho!” You had your nth orgasm of the night, you couldn’t take it, the overstimulation was becoming unbearable and yet you knew they’d wanna do double penetration. Maybe you could convince them to wait till later. You knew they’d listen to your every word.
Yunho stood up and approached you on the bed, taking your fingers and wrapping them around his cock, “Make me cum again, yeah?”
You could barely focus on pumping the heavy cock in your hands as Jongho went relentless on your cunt, he was getting sloppier which meant he was getting close.
“Fuck, Jongho! Slow down.” Your head snapped up to catch Jongho focusing on the way his cock slipped in and out, the way his tongue hung out of his mouth. It was so hot, but he was getting rough. Which you usually didn’t mind. If you hadn’t already fucked the other monster cock in the room not that long ago.
His cum spurted in ropes, whining as he was finally at his limit, “Oh, baby, so good.” His hair stuck to his forward and he never looked so attractive.
“Jongho..” You whined for him, feeling him pull out.
Yunho lightly smacked your breast to get your attention back on him, “Come on, don’t lose focus on me now.”
Right. You had to give equal attention when fucking more than one of them, “Sorry, Yuyu.” You let go of his cock and leaned over to wrap your lips around his tip, swirling your tongue around.
“Such a good girl..” He groaned and gripped your hair.
Meanwhile, Jongho left for the bathroom to clean himself off and prepare to take care of you once Yunho got his fill.
Yunho was growing impatient and decided to just fuck your face, your gagging only spurred him on.
Your eyes fluttered open to stare up at him and his fucked out face, he also looked so hot and attractive. How lucky you are to have so many loving and hot boyfriends who took care of your every need.
Yunho held your face close to his pelvis so that he cum shot straight down your throat, gulping it all down. He grinned and patted your cheek, “Good girl, did such a good job for us.”
Jongho returned with towels and water, “Geez, Yunho, she looks spent. The hell did you do?”
He shrugged and sat beside you, wiping the cum away from the corner of your lips.
“Eh, who cares. She loved it, didn’t you baby?”
You nodded with a weak smile, “Every time.”
“God, you two are weird.”
“You love us.
“Do I?”
“Jongho!”
“I’m joking, I love you all.”
#ateez x reader#ateez smut#hongjoong smut#x reader#san x reader#choi san x reader#seonghwa smut#song mingi#yunho x reader#jongho smut#yunho smut#yeosang smut#wooyoung smut
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˚❀˚
as we all know, jj is not a fan of cops. so, you can imagine how angry he’d be getting a call that you’re locked up.
it's sort of a game of telephone actually. you called kiara from the jail, pleading with her not to tell jj knowing how he'd react. but, with her parents grounding her from any more involvement in pogue business, she didn't really have a choice. so, she told pope, who immediately told jj.
luckily, your offense wasn't serious, you'd been having a bad day already and decided to go on an innocent bike ride. jj was kind enough to have slipped a joint into your backpack for an occasion like this, which you happily lit up to get your mind off of everything. your mistake was riding through the rich side of the island, some kook must've seen you and called the station to complain about who-knows-what, and the smell of weed sticking to your skin made it easier for shoupe to find you. you complied, letting him haul you in the back of his cruiser while he lectured you about drug possession and public intoxication. must be a slow day.
now you're sat in the lobby of the police station, hands bound together in metal cuffs, resting in your lap. you're barely high anymore, the light feeling in your head replaced by irritation. you hear jj before you see him, and the sound of his booming voice makes your heart sink.
"where d'ya even have her? huh, plumb?" you squeeze your eyes shut, the heat of his anger growing closer and closer.
"you need to relax, maybank." she hisses, rounding the corner before him and stopping at the sight of you. she crosses her arms, almost amused. "she's right here."
your blonde boyfriend stomps in after her, wide eyes searching the room before landing on you. he's disheveled, clearly having been in a rush to get here. you don't know what to do other than to stare back at him doe eyed. deputy plumb comes to your side and hoists you to stand with a hand on your arm, spinning you roughly so she can start to unlock the cuffs.
“alright—let’s make this quick.” shoupe’s voice draws everyone’s attention, a stack of papers in his hands that he offers to jj. “i’m doin’ her a favor, just a written warning.”
jj snatches the papers from him, superficially looking them over and then using them to point at the deputy. “you’re outta your mind, shoupe. i can’t believe—“
“i suggest—“ shoupe cuts him off, and jj’s jaw clenches. “—you kids get on home now. we’ve got some real work to do.”
deputy plumb lets you go, clipping the cuffs to her belt and nudging you toward jj. “and keep the dope on the cut.” you look back at her, keeping your mouth shut as you slink over to jj’s side.
“can count on kildare P.D., ain’t that right?” jj keeps his eyes on the officers, face red with anger as he adjusts his hat and starts walking toward the door. you stick close to him, feeling better attached to his side even if he’s angrier than you’ve ever seen him. “pickin’ on teenage girls — real tough, shoupe. pretty sure y’all got bigger fish to fry, maybe focus on that.”
on the way out of the station, he’s silent. he doesn’t look at you or say a word until you reach the twinkie, where john b is sitting patiently in the driver’s seat. you feel real bad now, realizing you brought everyone into this mess that you could have easily avoided. jj stops at the front of the van, and you follow suit, anxiously biting your lip.
“jayj, i really didn’t mean to cause a whole—“
“nobody’s upset, sugar. relax.” he takes a second to look you over, running his hands down your arms and scanning over your body. “didn’t rough you up in there, did they?”
you shake your head. “oh, no. i’m fine.”
“good.” he brushes your hair over your shoulder, letting his hand linger by your jaw to pull you into a kiss. “least y’got a little street cred now, huh?” a warm smile spreads across his face. you’re relieved, in the end really grateful that your boyfriend came to save the day.
˚❀˚
#my inbox is open! ‧₊˚.#jj maybank#obx#jj maybank x reader#jj#jj maybank drabble#jj maybank headcanon#jj headcanon#jj x reader#jj maybank gif
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I'm Losing You... (But We're Filling the Cracks)
Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem. But now, it might as well be a dream come true.
Warnings: read chapter 1 for warnings.
Taglist:
@phsycochan | @mirillua | @augustanna | @chaixsherlock | @whore-of-many-hot-men | @nerdisthenewcool | @lilypadmomentum | @1dkneo | @kitsunechan707
Chapter 31
[Prev] [Next]
“I… I feel like I need to push,” you grunted out.
Your doctor ran to your bedside. “Okay, dear, okay, follow my lead, alright?” She assisted in turning you on your side, adjusting your various tubes to better accommodate your position. “Like we discussed, okay? This position will help reduce the pressure on your pelvis and make it much easier to push.”
You nodded, your expression contorting in a grimace as a much stronger contraction ran through you in waves, lingering in your muscles like radiation. Your hands were curled up by your head, lacking anything to hold on to, so you resorted to fisting the white cotton sheets covering the mattress below you. It felt mildly uncomfortable, but as soon as you were settled, you felt like your muscles were able to work much more effectively. You breathed out a pained sigh, the pressure in your lower abdomen increasing in waves.
“You’re starting to crown already,” another nurse spoke up. “Your body is already so primed for delivery! It’s like you’ve been practicing. If I didn’t know any better, I’d assume this was your third or fourth baby!”
“I’m going to hold your hand, alright?” your doctor asked, confirming with you on what would make you the most comfortable. “How bad is your pain? We can get you started on an epidural.”
“It’s…” As soon as the contraction ceased, another one followed in its place. You were outrageously close. “It’s pretty bad,” you confirmed.
“I’m impressed, when I gave birth to my first, I almost passed out. The pain was so bad!” one of the nurses at the other side of your room called out. “You have quite the tolerance!”
You flashed a weak smile. If only these nurses knew.
Your doctor rubbed your head reassuringly. She really did feel like a mother in her own right. “We’ll start that epidural. Once that’s in place and you’re stable, we’ll begin pushing. Can I get you anything?”
Your eyes wearily glanced up at her calm, reassuring face. “I know it’s a long shot but… can you call my husband?”
—
The second lung was almost fully detached. Over halfway through the surgery now, it had been much faster and more successful than anyone thought it would be. Alongside a few breaks that were taken by the staff to relieve themselves and stretch their backs, sterile orange juice breaks sipped through plastic straws, and brief physical therapy for the unconscious patient to make sure his blood continued to circulate properly and his skin wasn’t damaged, the operation was going very, very smoothly.
And thank goodness. Law needed some good news right now.
Among the beeping sounds of the patient’s heart monitor, the wrrr of the bypass machine, and the soft chatter amongst the team as they worked, a new sound infiltrated the space. In the farthest corner of the room, Law’s hospital pager went off.
“What was that?” one of the nurses asked.
“My pager,” Law responded. His voice was laced with anxiety. He was barely keeping it together, and who knows why his pager might have been going off in the middle of an operation.
The circulating nurse took it upon herself to snatch up the small device, pressing the response button. The best, or arguably worst, thing about the pagers was how loud they were. Everyone could hear the voice that came through the other end.
[Dr. Trafalgar Law? Dr. Trafalgar?] It was a woman’s voice.
“I’m listening,” he shouted back. The nurse stepped slightly closer with the pager in her hand.
[This is Nurse Kaya from Labor & Delivery, your wife is crowning. Just wanted to let you know.]
Spoken far too casually for the news that made Law’s stomach drop like a brick. He was missing the birth.
“FUCK,” he suddenly shouted, his hands still carefully working at the lung’s connective tissue. It was as if his body and his mind were on completely different wavelengths. So much for operating room etiquette. The air in the room had gone completely cold as nervous glances among the team were shared.
“Doctor, I’m not opposed to relieving you with another on-call surgeon. I know this is a huge ordeal, but we’re almost done and… this is a special case,” one of the head nurses spoke up.
He was clearly deliberating heavily in his mind. He wanted to run, carry himself as fast as his feet could handle, and get to your side. He needed to be there with you. He was missing the birth of his first child. A lump developed in his throat. The protective husband side of him had the stoic, focused surgeon side pinned against the wall with a knife to his throat.
“Get the on-call surgeon here immediately and have him gowned and sterilized,” he finally barked, passing his tools off to his assistant and stepping away from the body. A few relieved gasps were shared amongst the team as the circulating nurse brought Law out from the theater and into the prep room where she assisted in frantically undressing him from his surgical scrubs and passing his phone and pager back into his possession. His operating room attire was quickly disposed of in a biohazard waste bin while he quickly washed his hands in the nearby basin.
“Doctor, good luck,” she said with a smile, her eyes crinkling under her mask.
Law could only pass her a faint grin as he shrugged on his white coat, stuffed his phone in the pocket of his slacks, and sprinted out of the prep room. On the way, the on-call surgeon passed by and planted a reassuring smack to Law’s shoulder before replacing him.
Law was breaking every hospital rule there was. Sprinting through the hallway, his feet hammering against the tiled ground as he fought his way through the hospital’s expansive campus, past patient rooms, nurses’ stations, and waiting areas. Why did L&D have to be so far away?! His eyes followed the signs on the walls pointing him in the right direction, his muscle memory leading the way. He scaled two flights of stairs two-at-a-time, the muscles in his legs screaming at him to stop. He was almost positive he would tear a muscle with how fast he was running. But that didn’t matter.
Finally, finally, he pushed through the doors into the maternity ward, flashing his badge frantically at the nurse behind the check-in desk. He was panting, barely able to catch his breath, one of his hands shaking as it supported his weight against the desk.
“My… Trafalgar… where… shit…” he panted, beads of sweat pilling on his forehead below his ragged bangs.
“Down the hall, take a left, then a right,” the nurse instructed, her voice pleasantly calm. She must have seen this a lot.
He barely uttered out a ‘thank you’ before he was off again, pounding down the tiled hallways past delivery and recovery rooms, past the expansive NICU and small groups of families and doctors. He had tunnel vision. He needed to get to you.
Take a left.
Then a right.
He almost sprinted past the door to the delivery room you were in, only backtracking when he caught the pained sound of your voice from within. He flung the door open, nurses surrounding you jumping from shock at the sight.
“Dr. Trafalgar?!” one of them exclaimed, her eyes wide.
Law ignored her.
Your eyes went wide, your hand being held by the doctor who had admitted you. Tears immediately brimmed in the corners of your vision as a pained smile broke out on your face. Law took the spot of your doctor instantly, almost throwing himself at you as he littered your face with kisses, grasping your hand and holding in his pain as you squeezed harshly against his bones, the force of another contraction gripping your body. You were laying on your side, one of your knees tucked upward toward your chest as far as you could manage to allow the baby more room to come out. You had an epidural tube sticking out of your spine, your upper body barely covered by blankets and the open-back hospital gown to accommodate for the birth.
“You made it…” you wheezed, torn between the attention on your husband and the baby coming out of you.
“I couldn’t miss it… I couldn’t…” he wheezed. He was still very winded, his lungs shuddering for breaths. Any longer and he would’ve been the one needing a dual pulmonary transplant.
“Ready for another push?” shouted one of the nurses at your bedside above the noise.
You nodded, biting your lower lip. Your face was glistening with sweat. Your body tensed up, gripping Law’s hand like a lifeline as you pushed, a pained groan emanating from deep within your throat as your eyes pinched shut.
“How is she doing?” demanded Law, gazing at the doctor who took her spot at the end of your bed where your legs were parted.
“She’s doing great, both babies are in cephalic position, her blood pressure is good and her heart rate is even better, it’s unlikely she’ll need emergency intervention. I’m incredibly pleased considering her medical history,” the older doctor explained. “Come over here.”
Law gazed at you, a fond smile on your lips as you released his hand so he could join his extended colleague at the foot of your bed.
“Delivering on her side helps lessen the pressure on her body as well as the baby’s,” the woman explained.
Law’s breath caught in his throat. Emerging from you was a head of fuzzy black hair, slicked with amniotic fluid. One of the nurses called for another push, and your lower body tensed up, your muscles clenching as hard as they could while you pushed the baby out more. Law quickly returned to your side, grasping your hand once more.
“Baby… how are you doing?” he asked, desperate for your personal opinion, his lungs finally settling as he took in your exhausted appearance.
You grimaced. “The epidural has been helping, but it hurt like a bitch going in,” you groaned. “I’ve been having contractions since 2 in the morning. I just want them to be out already.”
“Once the head is delivered, the rest will be easy!” one of the nurses called, a bright smile on her face.
Law felt himself smile as well. Being a delivery nurse must have been incredibly rewarding on the best days. He glanced at the clock on the far wall. It was almost 10 in the evening. His heart panged in his chest.
“You’re doing amazing, baby, you’re amazing,” he whispered in your ear, planting another kiss against the soft, sweat-soaked skin of your forehead.
“One more push, dear!” the doctor called.
Your eyes squeezed shut, your muscles contracting with all your might at the count of the nurses assisting you, your hand clamping down on Law’s. He held in his grimace of pain, supporting you as best he could. Some slight hand bruises were nothing compared to what you were experiencing. How chivalrous of him.
A sudden rushing feeling emanated from your body, a wet sensation prickling your skin through the numbness of the epidural. Your heart rate picked up, your eyes growing wide as you worriedly asked, “What was that?!”
“Your water broke, dear! Everything’s alright!” a nurse responded.
You moaned in pain. “It’s about damn time.” Your grip on Law’s hand released slightly, and you watched as a small smile appeared on his lips.
With one more push, the pressure in your groin finally dissipated somewhat as a nurse pulled your first baby out of you. With the collapse of the amniotic sacs, it was much easier to deliver the rest of its body, much to your relief. As soon as the contractions stopped, however, they began again.
“Keep going, darling, just one more to go!” the doctor called. “It’s right there!”
You barely had the energy to pick your head up to look, and you watched through half-lidded eyes as Law examined the nurses huddled around your baby at the foot of your bed. It was placed in a small portable incubator, being hooked up to machines to assess its condition. 35 weeks was still pretty early, so it made sense. Its umbilical cord was clamped about two minutes after emerging from your womb. Law tried to keep his anxiety repressed as your body shuddered with another contraction.
“The second baby is always easier, darling, you’re already fully dilated from the first,” explained your doctor, giving a reassuring pat to your ankle.
“First baby’s stable!” called one of the nurses. “It’s a girl!”
Law felt his chest clench at the news. His eyes lit up as he gazed at you, a smile pulling on his lips. A weary smile formed on your own face as you were instructed to push once again. Much to the room’s relief, the second baby did indeed come out much quicker than the first. The loss of the amniotic fluid from your uterus and the stretching that your pelvis had endured with the first made it worlds easier for your second baby to emerge into the world. The process repeated- a quick cleaning, a clamp after two minutes, and a quick check of vital signs.
“Another girl!” one of the nurses called, assessing the second in another small incubator. “Also stable!”
You were helped onto your back in somewhat of a hurry, the two boxes containing your babies pushed toward your bedside where they were quickly gathered in bundles of blankets and placed on your chest. It was all happening so fast, the world was practically blurring around you. As soon as your babies touched your skin, it was as if a deep-rooted instinct emerged from you. Law watched with pride as you nestled your newborns into your chest, your gentle hands holding their backs as they took in their first breaths as living humans.
Holy shit.
The room had quickly gone quiet around the four of you, a few of the nurses cleaning you up and reviewing your condition while additional nurses left the room to prepare suitable beds in the NICU for your newborns. Even though they were both healthy and stable, they needed some extra time to grow.
“Law…?” you asked weakly, turning your head to look at your husband.
Law’s golden eyes were wide, frozen, large, salty tears streaming silently down his cheeks. His chin was quivering as he gazed over you. His three girls.
His girls. He had two daughters.
Your husband huffed out a laugh that sounded more like a weary sob as he moved closer to you, stroking your head with his hand as he gazed warmly over the two tiny bodies on your chest, making their first contact with their mother. He wiped his eyes clumsily with the sleeve of his white coat, inhaling a gross-sounding sniffle through his nose.
“I’m sorry I’m crying…” he blubbered.
“Don’t be…” you replied, your own tears welling in your eyes. “You’re finally a daddy. I’m happy you’re crying.” You quietly laughed as Law reached forward with his hand, wiping your tears away from your cheeks, followed by another tender kiss against your jaw.
A nurse quickly stopped by your bedside, slipping small white cotton hats onto the tiny noggins of your daughters before leaving the four of you alone for a few more moments. The skin-to-skin time was crucial for their attachment to you, and once that was established, they’d be able to go into the NICU for their extra care.
Both of the girls, despite being only around 35 weeks, had near-full heads of hair. It made you wonder what they would have looked like being born at full-term. The one over your left breast had tiny black curls that still stuck to her head. The one over your right breast had thinner, straighter wisps of a lighter brown color. They’d come into their own in a few more months as they grew, but even just from first looks, they were both clearly their father’s daughters.
—
The minutes following the birth were quite nasty if one were to ask you. Law thought they were an interesting few moments, but you weren’t listening to him. He was biased. And frankly, you hated the way it felt when two placentas ejected themselves from your body. It was like having another two babies but slimier and worse.
Your epidural was removed and you were cleaned up and helped into a cotton gown to rest in. Your legs were weak from your long labor, but you were rewarded with some light food that didn’t taste like hospital sludge. The third best piece of news you received was that, by some miracle, you didn’t tear a bit, and your uterus had completely and successfully done its job.
Finally.
You passed out very soon after your placentas were delivered, exhausted and completely spent after delivering two babies.
Law took the opportunity to retreat to the NICU and oversee his daughters as they were hooked up to breathing tubes and heart monitors to ensure that their good conditions remained that way. They had their hand prints and foot prints taken by gentle nurses who were cooing over how cute they were, a sight that brought a smile to Law’s eyes.
“Dr. Trafalgar,” the voice of the doctor who oversaw your delivery shook him from his blissful state. “Congratulations.”
“Dr. Linlin,” he replied as he turned to face her, shaking her hand. “It’s good to see you. Thank you for everything.”
“No need to thank me, dear,” she hummed. “I’m a veteran of the motherhood game. It’s all in a day’s work for me. I’m so glad to see you happy and healthy, and with a wife even. I remember the first day I met you, that skinny, scared looking post-grad doctor forced to speak in front of a huge crowd.”
Law groaned, rolling his eyes as the memory. “One of the worst days of my life, for sure.”
The woman laughed, a hearty, bouncy chuckle. She hadn’t changed a bit in the 20-some-odd years, probably even longer, that she had been a doctor. “But look at you now. A huge, monumental surgery, and now twins. All in one day.”
“I’m going to sleep for centuries after all of this settles,” he added with a small smirk. “After helping my wife, obviously.”
Dr. Linlin gave Law a hearty smack on his back, right in between his shoulders, making him lurch forward slightly. “Your daughters will stay in the NICU for 24 hours for observation, and then they’ll be transferred to stay with the two of you in postpartum. Let me know if you need anything, alright? In a few hours, I’ll be back in your room to help you two sign the birth certificates.”
Law watched as the woman walked down the hall, her own bright pink doctor’s coat trailing behind her. One of the only things Law knew about Linlin was the amount of kids she had. It seemed like she popped out one every year, and yet she still had the time to be a labor and delivery doctor. He shook his head, trying to ignore the logistics of it, before walking back to the postpartum room you had been transferred to.
You were awake and staring at the ceiling above you, your hands clasped around your belly. You were still quite swollen, having been told that it would take a bit for your stomach to return to its pre-pregnant state, but you were already trying to come to terms with the fact that you would most likely never look exactly the same ever again. Not after carrying and shoving out two humans. When Law entered your quiet room, you smiled, all your anxieties melting away at the sight of your husband.
He wasted no time in crossing the space between you, leaning over you to plant a loving kiss against your lips. All the emotions he had been holding in throughout the day, all the tension that arose during his mad dash through the hospital, and all the worries that the two of you had shared during your pregnancy struggles flooded between your exchange. One of your hands traveled up to caress his cheek, your fingers trailing across his sideburns and into his slightly greasy black hair, pulling him ever closer to you.
“I’m happy you didn’t tear, or need anything else, really,” he whispered, pulling away from you. “After everything you went through, you needed an easy birth.”
You grinned. “I like to think our two other babies, somewhere out there in the universe, wanted it to be easy for us. For once.”
Law pulled up a chair and sat beside you, leaning against your bed and dropping his head onto your shoulder. You gently caressed your fingers through his hair in the way you knew he loved, watching with a fond smile as his eyes closed.
“What did they say about the NICU?” you asked, your voice tired and weary.
“24 hours. Then they’ll be transferred here to stay with us.” Law kissed your hand cheek. “They’ll be eligible for discharge after they’re able to eat, stay warm, and breathe efficiently.”
“Speaking of which,” you stated, slowly moving yourself to sit up despite the aches in your bones. “I pumped for the first time when you were looking at them.”
“How quick were you?” he asked with a joking tone. “I didn’t think I was gone for that long.”
“It didn’t take as long as I thought it would, but I also didn’t need to give that much milk. One of the nurses helped me, and they’ll be able to feed them in the NICU. At some point in another hour or so, though, she told me I’ll have to visit them there so we can make sure they can latch on their own.” One of your hands traveled up to painfully grab at one of your breasts. “I’m already feeling so achy in my chest. It’s gonna be a rough few months.”
Law grinned, dipping his head back down. “But you’ll have help. Don’t forget that.”
You hummed in response. “You’re right.”
After a few extra moments of silence, you added. “Names?”
“Hm?”
You chuckled. “Names. We have to name our girls.”
“Oh shit, you’re right,” Law muttered. He had completely forgotten one of the most important parts of being a new parent. “What were you thinking?”
“Cora and Rose,” you said, matter-of-factly. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while. And now we know they’re both girls.”
Law smiled, a rare, genuine expression that reached his eyes. A smile he only ever showed you. “Cora and Rose… which one is which?”
“Rose is the one with those little black curls. Cora is the one with the lighter hair,” you confirmed.
Another tender kiss was planted on your forehead. “I couldn’t ask for anything better than that.”
—
You didn’t expect breastfeeding to be as euphoric as it was. In less of an immense pleasure way, and more of a ‘holy crap, it feels like my breasts are losing 25 pounds’ kind of way.
Your girls were already so good. Cora latched instantly, one of her tiny, weak hands curling slightly upward to grasp at your skin. Both of them were still curled in a fetal position, and it would take them a bit longer to finally stretch out and look more like usual babies, but right now, they were the perfect size to swaddle and nestle into your skin.
The neonatal intensive care unit was a surprisingly colorful place. You always imagined it would be rife with anxiety, desperation, and sadness, a bunch of little, sick babies fighting for their lives, but the second you and Law finally entered to see your daughters, all those expectations flew out the window. Their corner was bright and colorful, with rainbows painting the walls and a fairly large window with a view of the surrounding city below. It was pitch black out, just past midnight, but you imagined the daylight would flood the room with a warm, natural light.
Your daughters were already so warm, kept insulated by their little cotton swaddles they were bundled in, and their tiny beanie hats that covered their fragile heads. The sight warmed your heart.
A breastfeeding specialist (which was a job you had no idea existed until then), helped situate you in a chair, accommodating your sore and spent body. She assisted with adequately positioning your daughters, one for each nipple, and gave you tips on how to make sure they latch and stay on while nursing from you.
You had an additional blood test a few hours after the birth, when your girls were done with their first natural feed and were now sleeping calmly in their incubators. It was looking like you’d be able to go home within the next 24 hours, if everything continued as normal.
While you were taking a light nap in the chair beside your daughters’ beds, Law used your phone to snap some pictures of Cora and Rose in their tiny beds side by side, smiling as he pulled up your text messages and sent them off to Shachi, Penguin, and Ikkaku. He didn’t think they’d respond, with it being so late, but their messages rolled in almost instantly, bringing a fond smile to his face.
Ika-chan
OMGOGMOGMGOMGOMGOGMOGMGOGMOMG
Ika-chan
TWO LITTLE GIRLS
Ika-chan
ARE THEY HEALTHY????????
Ika-chan
ARE *YOU* HEALTHY?????????????
Shachiiii
Still cant believe those things came out of you whatthefuck
Shachiiii
Must have hurt like a mf
PenPen
Shachi’s next to me sobbing his eyes out
PenPen
I’m crying too. But I’m stronger than him
PenPen
Fuck no im not. Im soaked over here.
It was then that his pager beeped. He forgot he still had it on him. Technically, he was still on the clock. He gently placed your phone on the small table beside you to not wake you up before reaching into his coat pocket and procuring his pager, stepping out into the hallway to not disturb his three sleeping beauties.
“This is Dr. Trafalgar,” he said into the small device.
Some slight static came through the speaker. [Hey, this is Operation Triple Organ Replacement calling in from the OR! How’s our best doctor doing?]
Law couldn’t fight the smile that formed on his lips. “Before I answer, how was the rest of the procedure?”
Some small chuckles and a few mildly annoyed groans were heard. [Patient did absolutely amazing. He’s in recovery, stable, and is slowly being woken from anesthesia. They’ll be able to take his intubation tube out in a few more hours, but that’s out of our hands. Soooo…?]
Law felt relief fill his lungs. A successful operation was everything he was hoping for, and now he felt he could finally rest easy. “I have two daughters, Cora and Rose. Everyone is happy, healthy, and resting.”
He needed to pull the pager away from his face as a cacophony of garbled cheering was heard. A distorted [FUCK YEAH] echoed through the speaker.
“Are you guys still in the pre-op room?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow.
[Yeah, we’re all cleaned up and everything, but we were waiting for the right time to page you. We’re abusing hospital equipment, we know, but this is CRUCIAL.]
Law couldn’t blame his team in the slightest. It was past midnight on May 13th, and they had just completed the biggest surgical procedure of their lives, probably the most daunting surgery their hospital would ever see. They deserved to rest and relax, and yet here they were, still in the pre-op theater, celebrating their lead doctor.
The black-haired surgeon smiled, pressing down on the transmission button with his thumb. “You guys go clean up, alright? Treat yourselves. Everyone did absolutely amazing today.”
[Copy that, Doctor. Tell your wife we said congrats!]
Law slipped the pager back into his pocket before reentering the NICU room. His stern, golden eyes softened instantly upon seeing you awake, leaning over the side of Rose’s bed and idly trailing your thumb softly over her chubby cheek. Beside Rose, Cora’s arms were already outstretched far enough that she was almost encroaching on her sister’s space. Soon enough, the small oxygen tubes taped to their fresh faces would be gently removed, and they’d be able to go home and sleep in their cribs, in your apartment. Law leaned over you and kissed the crown of your head, rubbing his inked hand between your shoulder blades.
“Hey, baby?” he whispered, gazing down at you.
You leaned into his side, melting at his touch. “Yeah?”
“I’m so proud of you.”
#x reader#reader insert#fem reader#one piece x reader#law x reader#op x reader#trafalgar law x reader#trafalgar d water law x reader#trafalgar law#trafalgar d water law#i'm losing you
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𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡.
PAIRING: stiles stilinski x fem!reader
WARNINGS: none
GENRE: fluff
SONG INSPIRATION: teenage dream by katy perry
WORD COUNT: 1294
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it wasn't out of the blue for you and stiles to have a sleepover on fridays, actually it was a sort of unspoken rule between the two of you.
it first started when you said that you had never watched star wars before, which led to the both of you sitting on your couch with a big bowl of popcorn in between.
him explaining the little parts you'd get confused about or him just ranting about his favourite scenes. after that it was a back and forth of showing each other your favourite unseen movies.
when finishing said movie the following days you'd receive multiple memes from him about the specific films, it had become a recurring pattern that you'd come to love. it almost felt weird if he didn't.
tonight it was your turn to introduce him to the to all the boys i loved before trilogy since you'd been obsessed with the movies since they first came out.
he was on the fence about watching them since he wasn't a huge fan of romcoms, you somehow convinced him by saying "it's practice for watching them with your future girlfriend!" internally wincing at that.
every friday you felt more anxious before stiles showed, trying to fluff up your pillows and straighten out your blankets. wanting to make everything perfect.
you had a huge crush on stiles, how could you not after spending so much time together, learning all of his little quirks, his likes and his dislikes, the only thing you weren't sure about was the way he felt about you.
it was the one thing you wanted to know the most about him. did he think about you the same ways you thought about him? did he like the way cuddled when you'd watch these movies and shows with him?
you couldn't tell him though, what if he didn't feel the same way you did and it completely ruins the good friendship you have right now?
what would it take for you to finally tell him?
ding dong!
the doorbell ringing a couple times had you jogging down the stairs, opening the door with a warm smile to see hyper stiles.
"i'm so ready to get my movie night on! i had a math test today and let me tell you it sucked," he whines as he dramatically wraps his arms around your waist as he fake cries into your shoulder.
"well if it helps i have enough microwaveable popcorn to keep us going through the apocalypse soo you coming upstairs or what?"
with that said he zips past you up your stairs, falling up them in the process, making you giggle at his eagerness as you follow close behind him.
watching stiles practically swan dive onto your bed and aggressively sniff your pillow has you side eyeing him, "why is your bed so much comfier and smells so much nicer than mine? it's so not fair."
"it's a little thing called fabric softener and if you continuously jump into your bed the way you do mine, then i guess you've got your answer you dufus," you laugh at him burrowing himself deep under your duvet.
"plus i've slept in your bed it's plenty comfy, the key is lots of pillows and fluffy blankets." he hums as you settle yourself beside him before pressing play on the movie.
it was like ten minutes into the film when you could feel him slightly shuffle closer to you, keeping your eyes on the screen pretending it didn't happen. just patiently waiting until he felt comfortable enough to say something.
"can...can we cuddle?" you wordlessly lifted your arm, letting him slip himself under, his head on your chest, the rest of his body lightly pressed to your side.
it was like second nature to you two, whether either one of you had a bad week you'd take turns holding each other. you helped install healthy mannerisms that proved that it was okay for a man to be held because they deserve it too and that it was okay for guys to cry no matter who they're with.
so yes , when he had a rough day he'd often walk up to you and bury his face into your neck, his arms firmly wrapped around you as you cupped the back of his head and rubbed soft circles on his back just letting him know that you were there for him.
with everything he had gone through he deserved all the comfort he could get and if the source was you then so be it.
you would be lying if you said that your heart didn't speed up at the closeness and how his touch on your skin left goosebumps.
trying to be as casual as possible, you raise the hand that was currently wrapped around his shoulders to gently stroke his hair, feeling him physically melt into you calmed your nerves.
feeling your eyelids slowly droop, your hand movements become slower so your palm now laid on the back of his neck, fighting sleep felt so difficult when he was beside you. his presence was so peaceful, comforting even without him saying anything.
the early start of your day hitting even harder now. He won't mind if you rested your eyes for a little bit, right?
stiles noticed the similarities between the two characters to the both of you, but there's no way that you deliberately put this on as a sign? was he reading too deep into it?
when he went to question you about it, lifting his head he was met with you sleeping peacefully. his gaze softened at the sight, gently tucking the piece of hair that fell in front of your face.
"you are so goddamn beautiful and don't even know it, even when you sleep? like can you save some beauty for the rest of us?" he chuckles at his own joke.
"i don't know how long i can keep pretending that i'm not totally in love with you...there really isn't anything that i wouldn't do for you." he whispers and he studies your features.
"it's honestly crazy how i feel your absence in everything that i do when i'm alone, in every place i go without you." he sighs, going to go back to watching the tv.
"you really mean all of that?" you whisper, making him jump back.
"uh- i-i do, but i thought you were asleep?"
"no i was just resting my eyes, but i'm sorta glad that you thought i was for you to finally confess your feelings for me." you smirk at him.
his mouth opens and closes, utterly bewildered at what you just said, "what do you mean finally?"
"You realise that i like you too, right? that i have for the longest time?" stiles eyes now wide, looking even more lost than before.
"you like me? like like me like me?"
sitting up, grasping the back of his neck, "what are you..." pulling him closer, your lips brushing against his. it takes him a second to register the kiss before melting into it. leaning closer to deepen the kiss. his hands brushing over your hips as he laid you down, now hovering over you. your hand running through his hair, tugging at the roots.
you're both now smiling as you share a few more pecks before pulling away. "so you do like me!" he grins, "oh my god. dude yes!"
"ya know if you're gonna be my girlfriend, you're gonna have to calling me dude."
"would you prefer shnookums?"
"that's it!" he pulled away just enough to tickle you.
from that night forth you and stiles had become inseparable, practically connected at the hip. but you wouldn't want it any other way.
i NEED new stiles stilinski fics to read.
#stiles stilinski#stiles stilinski x reader#stiles stilinski oneshots#stiles stilinski imagines#stiles stilinski fanfics#dylan obrien#dylan obrien x reader#dylan obrien oneshots#dylan obrien imagines#dylan obrien fanfics#teen wolf#teen wolf x reader#teen wolf oneshots#teen wolf imagines#teen wolf fanfics#x reader#oneshots#imagines#fanfics#ruewrote
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I'll Crawl Home to Her- Chapter 1
A/ N:I’m horrible at exposition so bare with me through this one. It feels a little clunky to me but this sets up a lot for the rest of the series. This is also the longest thing I’ve written outside of my senior thesis so… I have this series fully planned out and now that I’m back from vacation I should be able to work on it a lot more.
Anyways, let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for it!
Warnings: Spring court slander (implied trauma), nightmares. Drinking. I think that’s all but feel free to let me know if I should add anything!
Wc- ~10k
Previous part: here
We’re coming home.
I ran up to my brother. Desperately pulling on Rhys’ arm and I felt him stumble back into me. He remained frozen, eyes locked on the female in front of him. Her and Rhys were clearly in the middle of a very intense conversation. But I wanted to go home. When I shouted Rhys’ name, his head flickered to me before looking back at Feyre. I saw his body tense, eyes going wide and it was instinct that had me grabbing his arm and winnowing us to Velaris.
The smell instantly calms me in a way I haven't felt in fifty years. Once my vision had fully focused,
“She’s my mate”, nothing above a whisper. My head snapped over to him. Mate. That explained his reaction. I felt the guilt in my stomach at pulling him away from Feyre. My arms are already reaching to pull Rhys towards me into a hug. As my arms wrapped around him, he sobbed into my shoulder.
This wasn’t the Rhys I had come to know under the mountain. Sob after sob left his mouth and his precious wings dropped to the ground. I knew this was more than the reaction of a male who had his mate taken from him. This was my brother who had to watch his mate be in love with someone else after years of suffering. The cauldron had finally granted him a mate only to have her ripped away from him.
“I’m sorry” was all I could think to say. So many reasons for being sorry. Sorry for all he went through. Sorry for not being strong enough to stop it. Sorry that the female the mother had chosen for him was in love with the High Lord of Spring, and had willingly died for him. Sorry that I stole away what little time he had spent with her.
Rhys let out another sob against my shoulder and it shook me to my core. I have heard him cry over Amarantha many times but seeing him break over Feyre was enough for me to want to march to spring and drag her to Velaris. But she wouldn’t want that. I know Rhys would have my head on a spike if I even offered.
We both turned around at the sound of the door opening. Mor stood in silence, eyes scanning over us. Noticing our embrace. She stepped up to us and a soft smile crossed her face.
“Tell me about your mate, Rhys.”
That was all it took for the flood gates to open. We did more than recall the details about the last few months. Rhys and I cherry picking only the most vital and important details. We kept a few things close to our chests. Those would stay our nightmares alone, Mor didn’t need to be haunted with our ghosts as well.
Mor sat patiently before she finally interrupted. “She’s really dead?” Rhy freezed at the mention of Amarantha. I lightly placed a hand on his shoulder and answered for him. “Yes. But I don’t think this is over.” Mor just nodded sharply, looking at I both before she launched herself at both of I, arms coming up to wrap around my brother and myself.
“If either of you ever do something that stupid again, I’ll kill you myself.” Her voice didn’t hold any malice, instead it shook with tears. My heart jumped as I left the weight of her emotions wash over me. The pain in my chest tightened as I realized how much our absence has truly shaken our family. I knew, of course, but seeing it was entirely different.
The three of us began to settle and I finally had time to get my bearings in the house. As I let the glow of the house wrap around I. A familiar scent caught my attention, and my whole body sang. My head whipped around, looking for the source of that pine and night air, looking for Azriel. Cas too of course but Azriel was on the front of my mind.
Mor’s smile tilted slightly. “They should be back soon.” She sighed “They just went to the camps to check on all of them” She paused, stumbling over words “ when we got that message from you, someone thought the most important thing was letting the camp leaders know that they had a high lord to answer to again.” This didn’t surprise me at all. Of course they would want, need, to fill in the Illyrian warriors that were now back under Rhys command with his return, Cassian having to take over that helm by nature of his position. It would be a fight, but one for a different day.
I wanted nothing more than to see the rest of my family and responsibilities be damned. I wanted to see them now. It had already been almost 50 years and in theory another day wouldn’t hurt but the house felt empty without the loudness of Cassian’s voice booming. It felt cold without Azriel’s shadows stirring around.
As if Mor could sense my unease, she lightly grabbed my wrist and started pulling me deeper into the house. “I have so many books I need to show you.” That was all it took for me to laugh. Mind reeling as I tried to remember the last time I had truly laughed.
The library was just as I had remembered it. The smell of old parchment and leather filled the space. Fires kept the room warm and light and I wanted that feeling to sink down into my bones.
Mor gave me the space to just absorb my favorite room in the house. Rhys had given me full reign over how it was decorated. Comfy chairs that could accommodate wings and backless chairs tufted with fabric that looked like they were made of stardust were spread over the large room. The heavy wooden desk I had put in was covered in stacks of books.
“I put all the ones I knew you would like over there.” Mor spoke up when she saw my eyes lock on the countless books. I felt my throat tighten up with tears at the thought she must have put behind the seemingly small action. It wasn’t uncommon for Mor and I to swap books as we finished them. Mostly so we could sit and talk about them for hours together. Mor and I spent many nights on the couches I had put in, falling asleep with our respective books still clutched in our hands.
Looking at the stacks, a rough count told me there had to be over a hundred books, easily.
“Looks like I have some serious reading to do.” I laughed. She beamed a smile at me.
“Those are just the ones I knew you would like,” She walked over to one of the bookcases in front of the desk. “These are all the others that I need you to read so I can scream about them.”
Three whole shelves in total. It would take me gods know how long to get through them. I voiced that much. Mor waved me off.
“You have all the time in the world to read them. It doesn’t have to happen all at once, but I’m not letting anything happen to you again. You’ll have time to read them all.” Her voice was uncharacteristically soft. I turned to look at her and I saw the pink speckling her cheeks and right above her lips, the tell-tale signs that she was trying not to cry. I placed the book I had just picked up and threw my arms around her, squeezing her as tight as I possibly could. She nuzzled her head against my shoulder and all I could do was try to hold her tighter.
By the time we pulled away from the hug, we were both a crying, giggling mess. I forgot how much I loved spending time with Mor. Regardless of how much I cared for my brothers, Mor and I were two sides of the same coin. Plus the boys wouldn’t sit and discuss the pure filth that tended to grace the pages of the books I devoured.
“So, what one should I start with?”
She all but squealed as she started flipping through the piles with me. We organized as we went. Placing them in piles of order that I should read them in. A few of the series I had been following had new installments that would most likely require a reread so those got placed on the back burner for the, now older, favorites she was dying to talk about. From there we were able to pick out one of her more recent favorites that had me itching to crack open immediately. She picked out one from her own pile across the room and the both of us settled into silence, the only sound was the fireplace cracking and pages turning.
I don’t know how late it was when Rhys softly opened the door to sneak into the room. My eyes were starting to get dry from how little I was blinking, desperate to get through one more chapter before I called it a night. Something I had voiced to Mor about ten chapters ago. Mor who now was asleep on her own couch, her hair pooling over the edge almost touching the floor from the uncomfortable angel her head had fallen into.
“The books will still be here after you’ve gotten some sleep,” Rhys said in a gentle mocking tone. Mor stirred slightly at his voice but remained sleeping. “Come on, I’d be an awful High Lord, and an even worse brother, if I let you fall asleep in the library on your first night home.” I nodded at his words. Truthfully, I couldn’t care less where I slept but for some reason, I could tell it mattered to Rhys. It would honestly be more normal for me to fall asleep anywhere but my room. Whether it be in the library or the large sectional in the living room or the comfy chairs on the rooftop, I rarely ever slept in my own bed. Rhys had ensured that every surface of the house was as comfortable as possible to account for this but I didn’t push or argue with him as I untucked my legs from underneath me and stood up. I debated leaving Mor to sleep but didn’t want her to wake up all alone. Reaching out a hand, I placed it on her shoulder and gave her a small shake. She groaned but opened her eyes anyway.
“We’re being banished to our rooms.” I joked and pointed over the Rhys. She let out an even louder groan.
“Overprotective bat.” Even Rhys laughed at her words.
“Come on, before he carries us himself.” I held out a hand and I could see Mor contemplating just rolling back over and going back to sleep but she grabbed my hand. Pulling slightly, I helped her to her feet and she rolled her neck slowly. No doubt trying to work out whatever kink was starting to develop due to half of her head hanging off the thin couch. The three of us walked down the hallway to our rooms. Sleepily stumbling to doors. We reached Mor’s first and before she slipped in, she gave me another tiny hug and another to Rhys.
“I love you guys,” Sleep was evident in the way she almost drunkenly stumbled over her words. I returned the sentiment and she was slipping into her bedroom, the door clicking shut behind her.
Rhys and I stood outside her bedroom for a little longer, until we saw the light from under the door flicker out. Eventually, we continued walking until we got to my door. There was a slight pause as I turned the handle. Rhys and I would normally be curled up in my bed under the mountain by now. I vaguely thought about asking him to stay the night. Not that I think either of us were truly going to be able to sleep. As tired as I felt, I was afraid that if I closed my eyes for too long I was going to wake up and this was all going to be a cruel dream.
Rhys seemed to pick up on my hesitancy. “I can walk in with you. If you’re…”:
“Please.” I interrupted him. He gave me a soft smile and gestured for me to open the door.
Nothing was out of place. The room smelt like my favorite perfume and when I looked around, there was no dust to be found. Someone had spent the time still cleaning the room while I was gone. I don’t know why that touched me as much as it did but as I looked around I felt all the unshed tears finally starting to take its toll. A sob ripped its way from my chest and Rhys’ arms were around me in an instant.
He shushed me softly, rocking me slightly. “We made it. We’re free. We’re back home.” He repeated over and over until I had cried myself out. I pulled out of his embrace and wiped away the stray tears. Shaking my head at my outburst I muttered a thank you to my brother.
“Try to get some sleep. I’ll be just across the hall if you need anything,” He says, placing a hand on my shoulder. I nodded and he gave me a sad smile as he walked out of the room.
I wandered over to my dresser, fished around until I pulled out the first pair of pajamas I came across. I hastily pulled my clothes off and as I went to pull the nightgown over my head, I realized the layer of grim that was clinging to my skin. A bath was definitely needed before I climbed into my warm bed.
The tub was already full and scalding hot by the time I had finished pouring in an obscene amount of oils and bath salts. Sinking in, I sighed out in relief as the heat enveloped me. Muscles in my neck and back released as I leaned my head against the edge of the tub. I picked up the sponge on the edge and started to wash myself off. After countless minutes of scrubbing, despite my raw skin I still didn’t feel clean. Huffing, I threw the sponge across the bathroom and pulled my knees up to my chest. I just sat curled up around myself until the water started to cool down. And it was still another handful of minutes before I could manage to pull myself upright and step out of the bath. I shivered at the temperature difference. Hugging my towel closer to my body, I quickly ran bacon into my room and threw the nightgown over my head. I burrowed underneath my comforter and tried to close my eyes.
I tossed and turned until I started pleading with the mother, the cauldron, anyone that would listen to let me go to sleep. I was bone tired but everytime I closed my eyes something made me snap them open a few moments later. Every creek of the house had my ears prickling. Has the house always been this loud? I wondered how I never noticed it before. How I ever slept with all the noise. It was then I remembered that, if my room truly haven't been messed with since I had left, that I still had a sleeping tonic from when I had cracked a few ribs. Fae healing or not, ribs always were a pain to heal. Majda had given me a tonic to make me sleep so I could actually heal without Cassian making me laugh them out of place. I flung myself out of bed and padded over to my vanity. The small bottle of purple liquid still sat , half drank/ Uncorking it, I prayed that sleeping potions didn’t go bad and took a tentative sip. Fighting back a gag at the foul taste, I put the cork back on the top and walked back to my bed. The medicine had its desired effect. Not a minute later I felt my eyelids flutter close and this time they stayed closed until I could sense the sun high in the air signaling the next day had come.
Knocking on my door made me finally crawl out of bed. Goraning at having to leave the warmth, I flung open the door and was staring a slightly startled Rhys in the face. He held a small tray in front of him, stacked high with various foods.
“I didn’t want to wake you up. You slept through breakfast and lunch and I didn’t know what you would want so I brought a little of everything.” He spoke the words so fast that in my half awake state I struggled to keep up with them. I gestured for him to come in so he could place the tray on my bed.
“Have you eaten?” I raised an eyebrow at him as I picked up a large strawberry.. His look told me that he had, in fact, not eaten. I pointed to my bed. “Sit and eat.” I barked, mouth full of strawberries. He laughed at some silent joke and picked up a piece of toast covered in some fruit jam. We were quiet as we ate, picking apart the platter he had brought in. Truly too much for one person to eat. Once we were both full, I wiped off my hands on my comforter and finished swallowing my last bite before I asked Rhys. “What do you have on the agenda for today?” He stilled and picked at a piece of lint on his sweater.
“Not a lot. I’m trying to organize a meeting with the High Lords of the other courts to just debrief after everything.” He shrugged like that wasn’t going to be the hardest meeting to organize. “There are some young high lords and with all the aftermath of this…We just need to all talk this out.” I nodded along with him. The courts would need some time to bounce back after this but from the way things had seemed under the mountain, we didn’t have that time. As much as I prayed to be wrong about this, war was on the horizon and we would need to have the courts functioning as much as possible if we were going to stand a chance against Hyberns forces. Amarantha was just a taste of the power that he had, an experiment of sorts.
Mor knocked on the open door before she walked in and plopped down next to Rhys. She took note of our stern faces but didn’t say anything. Instead, she swiped one of the sandwiches off of the tray and shoved half of it in her mouth in one bite. “You, me, library.” Was all she said before she turned on her heel and walked out of the room.
“Well I know what you’re doing for the rest of the day.” Rhys laughed as I started to scramble to get dressed. I was about to start changing when I noticed he hadn't moved from his perch on my bed. “Get out!” I scratched at him and all but pushed him out of the door, slamming it shut behind him. His laugh echoed off the empty halls outside my door.
In record time, I was running down the halls to the library. Mor was already sitting, her book curled against her chest. She didn’t look up from her book as she pointed to the one I had abandoned last night. “Butt in chair, book in hand.” She said and I laughed at her tone. I walked over to my couch and picked up the book, the spine slightly cracked from laying face down most of the day.
I must have finally gotten to the juicy part of the book because I felt Mor Peering over the edge of her own book. My poker face was completely gone as I sunk in every word. “No. Absolutely not!” I screamed, rereading the last few pages to make sure I was seeing it correctly.
“Did you finally get to..” I held up my hand to shush her. She laughed and threw one of the throw pillows at my head. I only put my book down long enough to catch the pillow, using it to now prop up my arms. Once I had confirmed I had not actually gone crazy, Mor and I started discussing the plot twist that had been the source of my outburst. She accidentally let a detail slip that had me scrambling back for the book, desperate to catch up to the point she had been talking about. This went on for hours until I saw her perk up. She turned to face me.
.
“They’re back.” Was all Mor said, still flipping through the book perched on her knees. I didn’t say anything else before I put my own book to the side and all but ran from the room. Her laugh bouncing off the walls behind me.
I could smell him before I saw him. That deep cedar and cold rain smell that I could wrap myself in. Rhys tried to say something to him but stopped when he realized he no longer held his audience's full attention. Azriel’s shadows ripping across the room and curling around my feet like a small cat. I could have purred at the feeling, tears started to peek along the corners of my eyes at the familiar feeling.
When I felt movement next to me, I felt momentary disappointment at the fact that Azriel was not standing in front of me. Strong arms wrapped around my middle and started to swing me in a circle, I felt joy so strong it almost hurt. Cassian sat me back down on my feet and when he went to speak, I wrapped my arms around him in return. We stood embracing each other, slowly rocking from foot to foot.
“Missed you, Princess.” He muttered into my head. I just nodded, my cheek too squished against his chest to say anything. “I think Mor was going to kill us if she had to be the only girl living in the house. Amren can only handle so much damage control and the coward spent most nights at her apartment.” He nudged my shoulder as he spoke, pulling a laugh from me. It felt good to laugh again. My cheeks hurt in the perfect way at the smile that stretched over my face.
A throat being cleared from across the room pulled my attention from Cassian. I could have melted into a puddle right then and there. Azriel stood in front of me, a true smile gracing his face. I squealed and rushed over into his arms. He didn’t swing me around like Cassian did, but he held me just as tight. It would have felt so right to crash my lips against his and he released me from his arms, but that wasn’t my relationship with Azriel. Those thoughts were nothing more than what I needed to make it through the events of the last fifty years. Azriel looked at me like I was a sister, nothing more. Rhys’ little sister on top of that. His high lord's little sister. He was the one who had coined my nickname centuries ago. When the trio first formed their own little band of brothers. I had gotten pulled in by proximity, Azriel said it one day and it had stuck ever since. “Hi Princess.” He said, tone polite but I could hear the joy behind them. I tried not to blush as I heard his voice. Shaking the things I had imagined that voice saying to me out of my head out, I mustered up a pathetic, “Hi, Az.”
It had never felt this awkward around him. Cursing myself mentally for thinking of all the things I would say to him when I finally saw him again. None of those words made their way out of me as the two of us stared at each other. “I’m glad you’re home.” Was all he said his words short but I felt the sincerity leaking from them. Biting down the flutter in my heart, I gave a short nod and wrapped my arms around myself. His eyes tracked the movement but didn’t say anything.
Cass clapped a hand on his brother's shoulder, breaking the tension that I felt take over the room. “We’ll see you at training tomorrow,” I raised an eyebrow to him. “Don’t give me that look, I’m guessing you didn’t have time to… while you were gone. I can’t have my sister not able to defend herself. We would be the laughing stock of Pyrthian.” He smiled as I made a big show of rolling my eyes .
So I joined them for training the next morning. And the next. Cassian slowly ran through the basics until I was nothing more than a mile of sore bones and sweat by the end of our sessions. I would shower and hang out with Mor. Rhys was suddenly very busy as he tried to catch up on all the events he missed in his court over the last fifty years. He made more and more trips to Hewn City, leaving Mor free to run around with me. Before I knew it a month had passed and all of us were sitting around the table for one of our family dinners.
Jokes were flung around the table and no one noticed the way Rhys and I sat back, sinking it all in. More than once I caught his eyes from across the table and all we could do was smile at each other. Is it bad to say that I missed this? I spoke into his head as Mor and Cassian had started raising their voices at each other, getting into a slight argument over some random events of the day. I did too. Even when we both flinched at the volume Cassian’s voice had risen too. Even Azriel had started to chime in before Mor shot him down with a withering look. I laughed despite myself at his expression. I shut up when that look was turned to me.
The conversation fell into a natural lull and everyone was happily eating. Rhys hissed at something, shaking his arm that bore the bargain mark. Something must have prickled down the weird connection.
“I still can’t believe you let her go with Tamlin.” Cassian said, stabbing something on his plate with a little more force than necessary. Rhys bared his teeth at his brother.
“I didn't have much of a choice, now did I?” He slumped back into his chair, still rubbing his hand. “She already hated me because of this stupid bargain but if I had stolen away from the male she was willing to die for…”
“But Rhys. It’s Tamlin. No one would have slighted you, not after…” Cassian’s gaze flickered to me. As hard as I was trying to tune out the conversation, I still felt my chest tighten at their words. Rhys would have never taken Feyre without her permission, well at least outside of the bargain but we both knew that was simply a means to an end. Regardless of how much it must hurt to have another person he cared about over in spring, Rhys wouldn’t take that choice away from her, no matter how concerned he might be for her safety.
“How was it seeing the brute again?” Amren asked and the table silenced. I froze and kept my gaze locked down at my plate. Suddenly losing my appetite completely.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” I itched at my wrist, tugging at the fabric that felt too tight around my wrist. Azriel placed a comforting hand over mine. I flashed him a thankful smile.
“You haven’t wanted to talk about it for over a century.” She prodded.
“And she shouldn’t have to if she doesn’t want to,” She took a breath like she was about to press the issue. “Why does it matter to you anyways?” Azriel hissed at her. Amren had the decency to take a hint and held up her hands in surrender, a smirk plastered on her face.
We all sat in silence for the rest of dinner. Even Cassian knew better than to make any comments due to the tension in the air. Everytime he would go to say something, Rhys would shoot daggers at him. Eventually I got sick of it and threw my napkin down.
“Fine. You want to know what it felt like?” I shouted at Amren. Everyone flinched. “I am terrified for that girl. Because I know what loving Tamlin does to someone. Seeing him felt just like you whenever someone mentions the prison.” She paled at my words and I didn’t spare her another look as I pushed away from the table, storming out. I know I would regret my words later but sometimes Amren needed a taste of her own medicine. She just loved to push everyone buttons because we were all too scared to really piss her off.
I flung myself into my bed, still fully dressed. I groaned into my pillow. Apologies could wait until tomorrow. A knock from the door had me fighting back swears. Stomping over to the door, I ripped it open and a very startled Rhys was standing in the hallway, hand raised like he was about to knock again.
“I wanted to check on you.” The high lord said.
“I’m fine” I gritted out and he raised an eyebrow at me. I let out a heavy sigh.
“I know I shouldn’t have taken the bait but I don’t want to talk about him, right now or ever, if I can avoid it.” Rhys’ eyes held sympathy and he just contuined standing in the hallway, letting me rant. “I mean it’s been so long. I didn’t want to talk about it then. No one’s asking how you feel about Tamlin.” I paused and Rhys just shrugged.
“If she’s happy with him, then it’s not my place to try to save her. If she wants to come here, then I’ll happily let her do that too.”
I stared at him like he had gone crazy. “What about the bargain?” He shrugged again
“It was necessary at the time. I don’t actually plan on cashing in on it. She’d only hate me. More.” I could feel his despair. The self loathing held behind those words.
“Rhys.” He shook his head.
“I’ll never take away her choice in this. Just because she’s my mate doesn’t mean I have a claim to her. Regardless of every nerve in my body screaming otherwise. It’s her life. She’s given more than enough to deserve whatever, whoever, makes her happy.” I went to hug him and he stepped out of my reach. “As much as I appreciate it, I don’t need your sympathy for making the right decision.” He tried to play it off as a joke but I knew he truly meant it.
“Well if you ever want to talk about it…”
“Like how you want to talk about Tamlin.” He cut me off. My mouth set into a thin line and I took that as a dismissal of the conversation. Fine. I just wanted to crawl into bed anyway.
“Well now that we’ve established that. Anything else you want to say, oh mighty High Lord.”
“No.”
“Good. Good night.” I said and swiftly shut the door in his face. I love my brother but he really knows how to get under my skin sometimes. I know deep down I’m mad because he called me out. I can’t expect him to pour his heart out to me when I won’t do the same thing.
I threw the covered back and crawled in, still fully dressed. Mind reeling. I wouldn’t even know where to start with talking to anyone about Tamlin. And what good would it do? All of that was in the past and talking about it would only piss everyone off all over again. We had just barely avoided attacking the spring court when I came home. I don’t want to drag Feyre into this now that she’s there.
I managed to finally fall asleep, tossing and turning. Dreams filled with deep swirling greens and the sound of growls.
When I woke up in the morning I could tell it was later than normal. The sun is slightly higher in the air. Snapping out of my sleepy haze I cursed as I jumped out of bed. I was late for training and Cassian wasn’t going to let me forget that.
Throwing on my clothes, mentally screaming at all the buckles on my training leathers. I knew not eating was going to come back to bite me in the ass but I simply didn’t have time as I sprinted through the house. In my haste, I passed a grinning Rhys. The events from last night seemingly forgiven as he taunted me.
“Maybe he’ll consider this your warm up today.” I held up a crude gesture and he only laughed harder.
I made it to the training rink in record time. My hands were on my knees as I panted. The stitch in my side was already screaming at me but I forced myself to stand up straight as Cassian sauntered over to me. The split in his lip told me Him and Azriel had gotten started without me.
“You’re late, princess.” I flinched at his tone. He surveyed me. “I think double drills should be enough to make sure that doesn’t happen again. I cursed, I couldn’t get through the routine once without limping back to the house. Two would kill me and he knew it.
“What are you waiting for? An invitation?” He held out his hand “Consider this it.” He stepped away from me, going back over to Azriel. I know Cassian wasn’t actually mad at me. He also knew that if he went easy on me, I wouldn’t take training seriously. I appreciated the routine of it all and I really did need it. So sighing I got started.
I was halfway through my second set when Cas called me over.
“Lesson learned?” He simply asked. I nodded. Still trying to take in breath. My muscles are screaming at me for still being vertical.
“Good because Cas and I decided it’s finally time to step this up a notch. You’re almost the same as you were before. Now it’s time to get your powers involved. Relearn how to fight with those.” Azriel spoke. My stomach sank. This was something I hadn't considered. It was a stupid oversight on my part and I didn’t know how to get myself out of this so I responded with the truth.
“I don’t have my powers.”
“Okay, nice joke” Cassian cut in.
“I’m not joking. I can’t use them anymore.”
“What do you mean you can’t?”
“I can’t use my powers” I grumble. “They’re still in there but it’s like I’m fighting against a wall.” Azriel raised an eyebrow at that revelation.
“How do you know?”
“I don’t know but all I know is I tried to use them… you know… And they wouldn’t come. Everyone had theirs back so I know it wasn’t the curse. So for whatever reason I couldn’t make them work.” It was embarrassing to admit. My powers had been the only truly useful thing I could rely on in the training ring.
“Have you tried since then?” I nodded. Not so much of a glimmer of them since I came home. I told Cassian that much and he swore under his breath.
“We could always take you to see Helion.” I shook my head at his words.
“I don’t want to burden him with more problems. He has enough to do in his own court. I’ll figure it out, but for now I’ll just have to fight the old fashioned way.”
Neither of the males in front of me seemed to be happy with my response but Cassian jumped right back in.
“Fine. But that means that you have a lot more training to do. If you had your powers you would be fine. But in just plain hand to hand combat, you’d get your ass kicked by anyone with any skill.”
I glared at him but I knew he was telling the truth. Grabbing his arm, I pulled him into the center of the ring and tossed him one of the training swords. Heavy but they wouldn’t do nearly as much damage when he hit me.
“Do your worst then.” Was all I said before he charged at me.
“You’re sloppy.” Cassian barked as he knocked the sword out of hand again, again. I held my wrist as it twisted at a weird angel. My cheeks heated with anger and I went to wipe the sweat that had formed on my brow with my other, only to find it just as damp. I recoiled in disgust and Cassian laughed again.
“You try getting your shit kicked in for fifty years and see how you bounce back.” I spoke and I saw his face pale. Shit. “Joking Cas, it’s okay.”
I shook my head. “I am sloppy. And that’s why I’m still training with your annoying ass. You’ll have me back in tip top shape.” He relaxed slightly, but his shoulders still wouldn’t lower.
I sighed and did the only thing I could think of as he turned away from me. I jumped onto his back, being mindful of his wings and pulled him down to the ground. The air left his lungs in a whoosh as I took us both onto our sides, I quickly bounded to my feet, ignoring the sting in my side from the impact.
“Come on you big Illyrian baby.” I raised my arms slightly in front of me and a flicker of something crossed Cassian's face and I saw him make the decision to play along. To pretend that this was just a normal day of training. He leapt to his feet with a surprising amount of grace.
“If you want a fight, you got it princess” He said with a smirk. We both stood in the middle of the training ring, circling each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. Swords forgotten off to the side. I saw the slight twitch of his left side and I made the choice to ignore the fake out, and went to block my right side. It was the right choice, the blow aimed toward my right side bounded off my forearm, it still stung but at least it didn’t put me on my ass like it would have had it made contact. I grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm back, pulling him closer towards me and pushing on his back. He only stumbled for a second before he regained his footing. That kick had put me off balance more than I anticipated and it was easy for Cassian to grab the leg that lowered too slowly, grabbing my ankle and yanking me to my stomach. I yelped at the contact. He laughed loudly as I held my hand up in surrender. I rolled over onto my back with a groan.
“Give me a few days back in training and I’ll have you on your ass, General.” He laughed even harder.
“In case you forgot, princess, you could barely do that even on your best days. Give yourself more time.”
“A week.” I responded with my own laugh. Whatever I had done, it worked. Cassian’s shoulders had fully relaxed and I noticed the smile gracing his face finally reached his eyes. I noticed Azriel starting a few feet away. I sat back on my elbows, propping myself up. “Want a round, Az?” I teased and was rewarded by him rolling those big hazel eyes.
“I think you’ve hurt yourself enough for today.” Was all he said before he turned to stalk away from the ring. I laid back down in the dirt of the ring at his retreating figure, sighing heavily. Cas comes to stand over me, offering me a hand up. I grab it, pulling myself up.
“Give him some more time to come around. This was harder for him than the rest of us.” He was suddenly serious. “He’ll get there, but you know him. Broody as they come.” He nudged me with his wing and I couldn’t help but chuckle at the gesture. I nodded in understanding and the pair of us walked back up to the house.
This was harder for him than the rest of us. The words bounced around my head for the rest of the day. It makes sense. Azriel would have seen this as him failing. Not only failing me but his High Lord. Regardless of how hard everyone must have tried to comfort him, he would always blame himself, and only himself, for Rhys and I going under the mountain.
It also explained why Azriel seemed to be avoiding me. Besides that first awkward meeting, he always managed to find an excuse to not be in the same room as me if he could avoid it. I’ve been home for almost a month now and I had hardly seen him. The few times I ran into him in the hall, he would quickly and politely brush me. Not saying anymore than a few words in greeting or response to a question I might have asked him. Be patient. I could do that. But it was hard to ignore the sting in my chest every time he brushed me off. We were practically joined at the hip before I left. I fit seamlessly into the fold of the trio but now Azriel felt like a stranger again.
My mind was too full of thoughts to begin to try to settle down, so after I bathed the dirt and sweat off, I changed into a loose nightgown that almost went to the ground and padded off for the library. When I got to the door, it was slightly cracked, light from the fireplace filling even the hallway with its warmth. It was like the room itself was calling to me and as I stepped in. Above the crackle of the fire, I made out the sound of pages turning, of fabric rustling as someone shifted on one of the couches in the room. I searched for the source of the sound and found none other than Azriel lounging with a book propped open on his lap. He didn’t seem to notice me until one of his shadows snuck off his lap and slithered over to my feet, wrapping around them like they always did.
He closed his book and glanced over to where I stood in the doorway. Something flashed across his eyes that I couldn’t decipher before it faded away. He cleared his throat and said a generic greeting. My heart sank as I saw him mark the page he was on in his book, and place it on the end table to his right. I tried not to pout as I said. “Don’t leave on my account.” I said, keeping my tone light to hide the oily feeling pooling in my stomach. The shadow at my feet seemed to curl in tighter to me as Azriel went to stand.
“I was just finishing up anyways.” He couldn’t seem to meet my eyes. “The rooms all yours.”
“Azriel…” I don’t know what I was going to stay. Maybe beg him to stay with me, maybe start shouting at him but I know none of that would help, would only make both of us feel worse. Be patient with him. So I bit back all the words I wanted to say to him and simply said. “Good night.” He called to me as he headed out of the room, his shoulder just barely brushing mine as he passed by me. The room suddenly felt too cold so I willed the house to put the fire out and walked out, heading back to my own room suddenly feeling very tired.
I crawled under my covers and tried to push the thought of Azriel’s eyes out of my mind as I drifted off into a fitful sleep.
I sensed it. I was back under the mountain. Nonono. This can’t be happening but I saw it all out in front of me. Rhys was in front of me, standing on the dais with Amarantha standing next to him. I almost broke down, knees buckling, when I saw that all-too-familiar mask of indifference grace my brother's face. I tried to call out but my voice wouldn’t come out, feet locked in place as I stood and helplessly watched as the red haired female reached a finger under Rhys chin. Bile raised in my throat as I saw her whisper something to him, something I couldn’t make out. When I tried to reach out for his mind, I was met with nothing more than those iron thick walls he built up. Amarantha’s eyes locked on mine and it was like she set me on fire. My skin burned, the string of her breaking my bones, of the attors smacking me down everytime I said something out of place. Finally I seemed to find my voice, but only a scream ripped from my throat at the phantom pain. Her red lips curled into a cold smile. “Welcome back pet.” another scream made its way from my throat.
I flung myself into a sitting position, jolting awake from the nightmare. My lungs ached as I gulped down air. My skin still burned and I threw off my blanket, pulling my knees to my chest. I almost screamed again as I realized the presence of something, someone, in my room.
Azriel’s soft voice said my name. “I heard you scream, I thought…” My eyes finally adjusted and I could make out his frame. “I’m sorry. I'll go.”
“No.” I rasped, throat raw. I must have actually been screaming. That explains his presence in my room, kind of. My hand went up to my neck attempting to rub away the pain in my chest. The pain didn't stop the request that bubbled over my lips. “Please. Stay.” I saw him go still, turning back around to me. Even in the dark, I was able to find his eyes, wide open as they locked on mine. Tears welled up in my eyes and I tried not to sniffle.
He whispered my name again. “Just go back to sleep.” He was starting to turn around again. My body reacted faster than my mind, I reached over the large bed, reached for his arm. “Please.” It was all I could get out. Please stay. Please talk to me. Please can we pretend that all of this didn’t happen and please be my best friend again. So many things tied into that one word. It’s almost like he sensed it and he sighed, relaxing into my touch.
“Only until you fall back asleep.” He sounded exhausted and his tone made me feel heavy all over again. He still shuffled in behind me. I tried not to think about the fact that when I went to tuck myself into his chest that I was met with bare skin. Resisted the urge to trail my hand down along those perfect abs, to the deep vee that I knew laid beneath them. I just buried myself deeper into his side and I felt his wings wrap around me, shielding me from the world around us as I drifted back to sleep. The smell of cedar lulling me into a dreamless sleep.
I woke up feeling more rested than I had since I’ve been back home. I knew he wouldn’t still be here but my hand still reached out to the side of the bed he’d been in, still warm. He had stayed. That explains why I slept so well. His scent lingered in the room and not caring how desperate it might have seemed, I buried my face into the pillow he had been laying on. I let his scent surround me and calm me down. A knock on the door had me groaning but sitting up anyways.
‘You didn’t come to breakfast so I wanted to check on you…” More said as she opened the door, she looked around as she spoke and her face fell slightly before continuing. “I had Nuala make you a tray in case you were hungry when you woke up.” She held a small wooden tray in her hand and I beamed at her, touched by the small gesture from my cousin.
“Thank you.” Was all I could get out, tears threatening to fall at the kindness in her action.
“I heard you last night.” She spoke quietly as she walked to the edge of my bed, sitting down at my feet. “I know I wasn’t there, but if you ever need to talk, or just someone to listen to. I’ll always be here.”
“You don’t need that stuff in your head too. It’s bad enough it's mine.”
She said my name in a concerned tone and I waved her off. “Don’t we have some books you need me to finish?” I said, deflect. She sighed sensing she wouldn’t win this one.
“Maybe we should take a break from the library today.” My face dropped as I thought of what I could possibly do with my day if it wasn’t reading with Mor. “I need to go shopping for some stuff, start looking around for Solstice presents and I haven't had a proper shopping buddy…” She trailed off, giving me a full megawatt smile.
“Alright let's go, before you start batting your eyelashes at me.” I playfully rutted her in the ribs and she threw her arm over my shoulder.
I haven't gone out to the shops in Velaris since I’d been back home. A part of me had forgotten how beautiful my home truly was. I tried not to stare in awe at the new vendors, the smell of food lingering in the air. People walked to and fro, running errands for the day. Mor and I had found one of my favorite dress shops and all but pulled me into the shop.
The designer was known for her slightly scandalous fashion. Floor length gowns with cut outs that left little to the imagination but were still heartbreakingly gorgeous. By the time Mor and I left, our arms were full of bags and I still had a few more dresses to pick up that needed to be altered.
We flitted in and out of more stores until the sun was starting to sink behind the horizon. When I noticed where we were I almost suggested we stopped by Rita’s but my shoulders were starting to hurt from the weight of the bags and Mor wouldn’t be able to winnow us into the house if we did have a few drinks nor did I even want to think of carrying them back.
So when we finally checked out from the last store, Mor having purchased a honestly hideous printed shirt for Cassian, we joined arms and started the walk back to the townhouse.
After dropping off all of my new things in my room, I knew I had to go apologize to Rhys. Armen could wait, if I ever bothered to say sorry to her. She wouldn’t hold it against me either way. Our relationship was more antagonist than anything else anyways. So I put the clothes into my closet and padded off to find Rhys.
Eventually I found him in his study. He didn’t look up as I closed the door behind me. I called his name. Still nothing. So I walked over to his desk. I noticed he was clutching a letter in his hand, holding it so tightly that it was starting to crinkle. I went beside him and soothed the letter out of his hand. My face paled as I read carefully over the words.
Feyre was marrying Tamlin.
The letter wasn’t an invitation. Just a simple announcement that would be extended to all high lords when one of them married. I dropped the piece of paper like it had burned me. I grasped for the right words to say to my brother, but when he looked up at me they all faded away. Agony I had never quite seen in them before knocked the breath from my lungs.
“I know I have no reason to be upset. I should just be happy that she’s happy. But I can’t find it in me.” He stared at the tattoo on his hand. “I’ll never see her again. Not after she marries him. I might get glimpses at balls but I’ll never really be able to see her.” Never be able to see her because we both know how Tamlin treats the people he loves. The gilded cage Feyre will be locked in the moment she says “I do”. I gave myself a moment to mourn for the girl. But I know there was nothing either of us could do in this situation. So I did the only thing I could think of. I strolled over to the bar cart in the corner of the room and poured both of us a few fingers of whiskey. He eyed it carefully as I passed him the glass. He took it out of my hands and knocked it back in one fluid motion. I did the same with mine. Holding out the glass for more, I poured him another. We just sat drinking until the familiar flush started to creep onto my face. Rhys hasn't said much, neither of us have. Content with drinking away the pit in both of our stomachs.
“I love her.” He said after he finished his third glass. He didn’t sound. In fact this was the most sober I think I had ever heard him
“I think I’ve loved her since I first saw her in the spring court. But I know I loved her when she offered herself in place of Tamlin. This brave human offering to save our entire world, who before that moment would have let her tear her to shreds.” He grimaced, as if the very thought disgusted him.
“So tell her.” I said with a shrug. He glared at me.
“You know it’s not that easy.” I did know. But I wanted him to be happy. I didn’t want him to have to sit here and drown out his sorrow while Tamlin got to play hero. Tamlin, who sat around while my brother risked his neck time and time again to save Feyre. He slumped down into his chair and laughed at the ceiling.
“The mother can be a real bitch sometimes. I don’t know what I did to deserve all this good fortune.” His voice was bitter and truly didn’t know how to respond. I went to pour him another glass but he put a hand over his glass.
“As much as I appreciate what you’re doing. I think I need to go to sleep before I march into the Spring Court and drag her out. Regardless of if she’ll hate me or not.” His eyes soften as he looks at me. “You should head to bed soon too. I don’t need to look into your mind to know you’re going a million miles a minute right now.”
He wasn’t wrong. My thoughts had been roaring around in my head since I read that letter. It wasn’t hard to put myself back into Feyre’s shoes. My heart panged for this selfless girl. How long until the cracks in the foundation started show and she would be pulled into the storm that is Tamlin. I nodded in acknowledgement of his words. Putting the cork back onto the glass bottle. I rose from my chair, rolling my stiff shoulders. Rhys and I both returned to our respective rooms.
Hard as I tried, I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned but couldn’t get comfortable. I had run out of the sleeping tonic a few nights before so I just accepted that sleep wasn’t going to come. I made no move to get out of bed though. I just curled my covers tighter over me. When the sun peeked through my curtain. I didn’t get up. I didn’t go to training. I didn’t even get up from my bed until mid afternoon, just going far enough to use the bathroom. Immediately crawling back into the warmth of my bed.
Someone had knocked on the door and I pretended to be asleep when I heard the door click open. I ignored the smell of cedar until I felt a shadow sweep across my bed, settling by my face. If it knew I was asleep, it didn’t respond to its master. But it also didn’t leave when my door softly shut. I just turned to face away from the ripple of blackness. Not wanting to deal with the comfort the small action granted me.
When I finally left my bedroom the next day, I learned Rhys had behaved similarly yesterday. The two of us floating around the house. We were bad enough that the others cleared out of whatever room we were in. I couldn’t find it in myself to really care enough to knock it off.
This continued for the remainder of the week leading up to the date of the wedding. I expected the same behavior as I woke up the morning of the big day. But when I walked into the kitchen, Rhys was sitting around the table with Cassian and Azriel, head thrown back in laughter. He turned his head to me as I walked in and smiled at me.
“Glad to see you’re feeling better.” I grunted at him. Walking to the fridge I pulled out a bowl of fruit and swiped a couple pieces of sliced strawberry. He hummed in response and Cassian spoke up.
“We’re going to the cabin later, if you want to come with us. We’ll need someone to help us finish all this booze.” He gestured to three large boxes that were occupying the floor of the kitchen. I raised an eyebrow to Rhys and he shook his head. Drop it. He spoke in my head. I shoved him out and when I looked back at him, he looked hurt.
“Boys, can I speak to my brother alone?” The two looked confused but stood up from the table regardless.
“You don’t approve?” Rhy asked plainly. I scoffed.
“They might not know what today is, but I do,” I snatched the unopened bottle from his hand. “If you want to drink yourself stupid, I won’t stop you but that doesn’t prevent all of this from happening.” He made a lunge for the bottle and I was somehow able to keep it out of his grasp. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers.
“What do you want me to say? That I would rather her marry anyone else than him? That I wish I was the one that she was happy to see. That I wished she would change her mind…” He trailed off. Eyes seemingly far away. Horror washed over his face.
“Rhys?” I spoke softly, wondering if I pushed him too hard.
“I have to go.” Was all he said and before I could catch him, he had winnowed away.
I had been on edge since Rhys disappeared with no sign of where he was going to. It hasn't been more than an hour but I was about to wear a hole through the rugs in the hallway with my pacing. Suddenly, I heard Rhys in my head. Grab Mor and meet me at the big house. I didn’t respond. Just went to find Mor, she must have received a similar message because when I got to her room she was already waiting for me. She didn;t ask any questions, merely grabbing my arm and winnowing us to the house we rarely ever used. When we arrived to the house I nearly gasped as I saw why Rhys had disappeared so suddenly. I just had time to make out a satin slipper as it was chucked with deadly precision right at Rhys’ head. She had barely launched the other one at him before she stormed off up the stairs. Rhys was all but growling as he stalked over to us. “That went well.” Mor snorted at him and this time Rhys actually growled at her before stalking over to his own room.
We didn't see or hear from Feyre for the rest of the night, the three of us eating in silence. I felt the tension rolling off of Rhys when Nuala and Cerridwen informed us that Feyre hadn't eaten the dinner they had left for her. My stomach sank and I avoided the stare from my brother. He had asked me to go check on her. Saying that I could offer her some company. I didn’t have it in me to talk to her yet. Didn’t want to make this day, this decision, about me. And I know going into that room I would see a younger version of myself I wasn’t ready to face.
The next day, Rhys had insisted on her joining us for breakfast. She came stomping down the stairs. “I’m not a dog.” She sneered at him before taking a tentative seat at the table.
She looked around and her eyes locked onto mine, recognition sparkling in them,
“I remember you. You were under the mountain. What are you doing here?” Her tone was surprisingly pleasant, a stark contrast from every word she had said to my brother.
I introduced myself. “I’m his sister.” She laughed at that.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” It was hard to bite back my comment while I looked at her. It was like looking into an old memory, the dark circle around her eyes, the way the light had completely vanished behind them. She didn’t even look like this under the mountain. Tamlin had broken her completely. I’m sorry for you. I didn’t say that though, instead just responding with a simple.
“You get used to it.”
“I doubt that.” She snorted and started picking at the food in front of her.
#acomaf#acosf#acotar fanfiction#azriel acotar#acotar#acotar series#acowar#azriel angst#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel shadowsinger#azriel spymaster#rhys!sister#feyre archeron#feyre x rhysand#rhys acotar#rhysand#cassian#cassian acotar#a court of thorns and roses#a court of silver flames#a court of mist and fury#a court of wings and ruin
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Small fic based on this!
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"So do you think a HUGE scissors sadness could beat a small rock sadness?"
Siffrin chuckled, but kept his gaze on the unfinished chair leg, "I think so, yeah. A strong Scissors craft done by a person can still beat a rock sadness, so it could work in a hypothetical sadness versus sadness fight, can't it?"
Bonnie hummed, "I guess so? You should try that sometime."
"Are you suggesting I go explicitly against precisely what Nille told me not to do?"
Bonnie giggled, "It's not like you don't do it anyway!"
Siffrin almost messed up their carving, "No I don't!"
"Yes you do! I know things, you know?"
Siffrin grimaced, "...how do you know?"
Bonnie laughed, loud and cheerful, "For starters, you've just confirmed it!"
Siffrin groaned.
"And also, you keep going out to 'fish', come back with no fish, and looking like you got mauled by a bear."
Siffrin gasped, "No I don't! I don't lose fights!"
"If you say so."
"I do say so."
Bonnie giggled, and Siffrin exhaled, finishing up another chair leg. He blinked, "Oh! I think I'm done with the chairs."
Bonnie turned away from the stove, "You are?"
"Yeah. I just need to make the table legs and assemble all of these, and I'll be done with Ms. Jill."
"Good," Bonnie says, "She sucks. I don't like her coming here so often."
Siffrin hummed, sanding the latest chair leg some more, "Are you almost done cooking? I can help if you're not."
They shook their head, tongue sticking out as they stirred the pan, "No, I'm neeearly done." They gently flipped the sweet potato fries, and promptly turned off the stove, "Ok, all done!"
"Did you salt the fish?"
Bonnie nodded, then the nod slowly turned into a shake of the head. "Forgot."
Siffrin laughed, and stood to ruffle their hair, "It's okay. I'll bring the salt once I set the table, then."
Bonnie pushed his hand away, sticking out their tongue, "Okay! I'll go wait for Nille outside!"
Siffrin smiled as they ran off the house, and set the table. The cute, nicely decorated fork for Bonnie, the plain darkless one for themself, and the one with the darkened handle for...
"NILLE'S HOME!" Bonnie exclaimed from the door, startling Siffrin into dropping the forks on the table, "Oops! Sorry!" They said, a nervous smile on their face.
Siffrin breathed deeply, and smiled at them both, "Hey, Peel."
Nille smirked at him, "Hey Crabfrin, did Bug here blow up the kitchen today?"
Bonnie groaned, "No!!!! I didn't!!!!!!"
"Results inconclusive. I was busy carving. The kitchen might just be gone."
"I didn't!! I didn't blow it up!!!!!"
Nille shook her head, fake remorse in her tone, "Wow, that's too bad. Guess we'll have to get a new kitchen."
Bonnie puffed out their cheeks, "Alright that's it. None of you get to eat my delicious and amazing fish and sweet potatoes."
Nille laughed, "Nooo! Buggg please let us have some!!"
Bonnie shook their head resolutely, "No. You were a crab. No food for you!"
Siffrin smiled, "What if I apologized and gave you a little kiss on the forehead?"
Bonnie paused. "..fine."
.
They sat down to eat.
Dinner was about as eventful as always, which is to say everyone spoke about what they did during the day (and when had Bonnie had time to do all that? Had Siffrin really been that immersed while carving?) and, of course, sent their compliments to the chef ("We MUST have someone else cooking here, the cooking is too good!", "Wow, you picked out all the fish bones? Thanks Bug!")
After that, Bonnie went to bed as Nille was on dishwashing duty, and Siffrin in drying.
"Did Mr. Flemming give you much trouble?" Siffrin asked, drying a fork and putting it away.
"Huh?" Nille tilted her head, passively scrubbing a plate, "Oh, nah, he was patient and all, he just had me wanting for long bouts of time in-between tasks. That's why I took so long to get home."
"Ah." She usually got home before Bonnie even started cooking, after all, "I see."
They cleaned for a few more minutes in comfortable silence.
"Oh, right." Siffrin said, "Do you want to come with me to watch a play, next weekend?"
"Sure," Nille answered easily, "What's it about?"
"I'm not sure, I think it's new? Something about a boy going inside of a book?"
"That sounds fun. Are we taking Bonnie?"
"If they wanna come!" Siffrin nodded, finishing up the last plate, "I don't think it's age restricted."
"Cool, we have a weekend plan, then!" Nille smiled, and walked out of the kitchen, "Don't forget tomorrow Bon has that playdate of theirs after school, okay?"
"Yeah, I'll pick them up." Siffrin nodded, removing his gloves and smiling at her, "Good night, Nille."
"See you tomorrow." She smiled back, and they both went to bed.
.
Sifffin sighed shakily under their cloak.
Bonnie never did go to that playdate. He refused to think about what happened to their little friend, and instead held Bonnie's hand tighter and they continued to run.
Chin up Siffrin.
Chin up.
#isat#isat au#isat siblings au#isat fic#in stars and time fic#in stars and time au#sqirtle.art#<- ITS ART TO ME!!!!#anyways guysss hi guys hi
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Hello! Awesome to see you're taking requests again. Could I please request Cnc headcanons for asa please and thank you? 💖
Asa Emory CNC headcanons!
Thanks for the request! It’s specified in the fic but I just want to re-iterate that everything is consensual and part of a scene! Also I love Asa and need to bite his tummy : 3
Reader is gender neutral!
Trigger warnings for consensual non consent, medical play, pet play, kidnapping, human pets, bondage and degradation.
Requests are open!
Scenes are always discussed and prepared beforehand, making sure both of you go over what kind of kinks it will include, what kind of setting it will be in, the toys and equipment needed and a refresher on the safe word/traffic light system. Asa may be sadistic sometimes but he would hate to actually make you feel unsafe or feel out of control and unable to call it off.
Scenes can be a range of things, the possibilities are pretty endless when you own a huge hotel with seemingly endless rooms. The woods out the back of the hotel are also an option! Perfect for ominous misty nights where you want to be stalked like prey. You may even end up with unused rooms converted solely for this purpose if you find yourself going back to that kind of scene on the regular.
You absolutely have a room dedicated to medical play, various pieces of sterilised medical equipment sits in the drawers, stethoscopes, black nitrile gloves, speculums and a nice big examination bed with conveniently placed cuffs.
Why don’t you come take a seat and let the doctor check you out? He’ll be gentle, promise. See? It’s ok, just let him check over your chest, have to check your heart is working ok, don’t we? Just try ignore the way he prods and gropes at your chest, fingers running across your nipples in the process, it’s all part of the procedure.
Squirming will land you a harsh slap on the thigh, as will trying to close your legs, why can’t you just let him work? There’s nothing wrong about the way his cool gloved hands slowly creep higher and higher towards your core, teasing the edge of your underwear. If you can’t sit still and be good he’ll be forced to cuff your ankles to the table, rendering you defenceless as he slips his lubed fingers into your cute little hole. seeing you struggle and cry only makes him harder. What are you going to do, report him to the board? They would never believe you. It’s what little sluts like you deserve. Now be good and don’t make a scene as he fucks you into the medical bed, we wouldn’t want to alert any patients outside.
Kidnapping scenarios are always fun between you two, reliving the moment you were captured but with a more exciting twist. A bigger box would be made for you, as much satisfaction as he gets from manhandling you into position and crumpling you into the box he wouldn’t want to actually hurt you or let any of your limbs go numb from lack of space. If you’re really keen to be bound tighter then you can add bondage to the mix inside the box. Asa will routinely verbally check in to make sure you’re not cramping or need a break. One knock for no, two for need a break and three for safewording.
The drive to your new home is quiet on your end, drool from the cloth gag spilling onto your chin. You can faintly hear the radio over the rumble of the engine and occasional bumps in the road. Panicked hands are pulled taught behind you as you’re marched into the hotel, there’s no point in fighting, he’ll drag you in by your hair if he has to. Don’t worry about the barley human specimens grabbing at the cage as you pass, he would never do that to you, no, you’re to precious too him. You’ll be staying by his side whether you like it or not, freedom is a privilege.
This little mattress and collar connected to the wall beside his bed is all yours! Perfect for him to watch over you at all times. It’s also perfect for him to force his cock into you whenever he wants, keeping you underdressed and easy to access. You can scream all you want, bite the pillows for all he cares. No one is going to hear or be able to help you. Asa’s going to keep you all open and pliant at all times, toys buried in your holes to keep you nice and ready for him whenever he decides to fuck you face down into the mattress. It would be alot easier if you stop trying to break out of his hold. You’re just a set of holes, may aswell learn your place and take what he gives you, it’s all you’re good for after all. Or does he need to drug you?
Petplay is a favourite for both of you, the scenes can be intense even if non sexual in nature, just being kept as an unwilling human pet that’s nothing more than an animal to him, so either way it can be enjoyable.
Does puppy want to be let out of its cage? Why would you want that? You have blankets, a water and food bowl, chew toys. Everything a little mutt like you could ever need. Maybe if you wiggle your little silicon doggie tail plugged ass for him convincingly enough he’ll think about it.
You’re learning to do tricks just like every good pet should, how long can you take your masters cock down your throat before you choke? Not good enough, you’re doing this again until Asa’s satisfied with your progress. Keep your hands to yourself unless you want to be punished, scratch at his thighs for a breath and he’ll only fuck your face harder and longer, drinking in your distressed tears.
aww you want to breathe? Your master decides when you’re allowed to pop off of his hard cock, choking down a desperate breath. Maybe if your a good mutt he’ll let you hump his boot to get yourself off, after all, he would never touch a filthy desperate animal like you.
Aftercare is incredibly important and cannot be skipped. After the scene is over Asa will tell you how good you’ve been, gently untying you from any binds and carrying you to your shared bed. He’s more than happy to cuddle and pet you whilst you float in Subspace for a while longer. Easy to eat snacks will be prepared and fed to you, bottled water or juice sweetly lifted to your lips, helping you take small manageable sips. Once you’re feeling more present Asa will reassure you about the scene, letting you know he doesn’t actually think those things about you and how much he cherishes you.
Showering comes later, running you a warm bath complete with bubbles and oils, washing away the days activities and leaving you warm and supple. Comfy pyjamas are a must, Asa helps you into them before marching your ass straight back to bed, ready to take a well deserved nap.
#slasher x reader#slashers#slasher headcanons#writing#asa emory#asa emory x reader#my writing#the collection#slasher hcs#slasher horror#slasher fucker#slasher fandom#slashers x reader
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@biolover9 <3 eeeehehehehe - @lambpaca and I have talked about this. Like, even outside of the parameters of Shadow and Amy getting together. This is just general conversation.
I've mentioned this a bit about it before on the sideblog, but I just... never could see Shadow ever wanting biological children. Truthfully, I don't think he could have them even if he wanted to, not without a massive amount of medical intervention.
Like... if you're making the ultimate weapon, the ultimate life form, why would you ever give it the ability to make more of itself? That lessens your control over it and runs the risk of causing your enemies to get their hands on a weapon of their own. You don't want that.
(I'm saying 'it' because like... that's how GUN viewed Shadow. 'It'. Even Gerald viewed Shadow as 'it' in the end in his diary. What Shadow wanted didn't matter to them. )
Beyond that though, I can see Shadow looking at their own biology and not wanting anyone else to have to endure it. Especially working off of the idea that they're still young and all the ramifications of genetic testing and mutation on them haven't really come to fruition yet (looking at you, 'immortality'). Why would he be selfish enough to pass a potential curse like that along?
That's not to say Shadow doesn't like kids. We've seen them be extraordinarily patient with characters like Cream, Tails, and Charmy both in-game and outside of game. I think for them to want kids though, they'd need to have certain needs met. They'd need to be free from GUN, they'd need to feel safe, they'd need to make a lot of peace with themselves and grow as a person. Essentially, they'd have to go through hell and then also a lot of soul-searching before reaching the conclusion of, 'I want to be a parent.'
But Amy? Oh without question, I think Amy wants kids. Doesn't matter if they're hers or someone else's. I've joked about her having a vision binder listing out three kids and names and everything. Amy also has been shown to want a domestic future after she's defeating Eggman. She wants to enjoy the peace and the every-day magic of just existing to exist. I think a lot of people agree that Amy would want kids to be a part of that domestic bliss.
Personally? I think there's also this idea that kids are hope for a future. Amy has spent her entire childhood fighting. There's no way to get that time back, no way to undo that which she has seen and had to experience. She forced herself to grow up quickly in order to protect both herself and the world. Amy wouldn't have kids unless she felt safe enough to do so.
I also think Vanilla being Amy's main parental figure that we see in almost every iteration of the Sonic franchise helps. Vanilla is, by all accounts, a loving, kind parent. That would have made a positive impact on Amy not only in regards to who she becomes as a person, but also, her own expectations on what being a parent entails. Seeing someone who wants to be a parent, who likes being a parent, who likes their kids (both their biological kids and the ones they pick up like a wet cat off the street), that means something, you know?
All the Sonic Gang solidify that family is what you make it, family is a choice, but Vanilla shows that parenthood is also a choice, and one that can be done with joy.
How does Gigi factor into this? Well, I kinda touch on it in The Home You Make, and then I show it in Late Evening Talks, but effectively- Amy and Shadow both make each other feel safe, they help the other grow, they help the other be their best selves, and in the moments they struggle, they're there for one another. This creates an environment for the two of them that allows them to entertain and discuss the notion of being parents. Without question, I can see them covering it before they even really start dating. Shadow in particular, not wanting to mislead Amy, would make his stance/circumstances abundantly clear, but now, fully committed and comfortable with one another in a way they were not previously, the subject would come up again not as a nebulous 'well maybe' but as a 'are we gonna do this?'
And they decide, 'yes.'
They'd take the adoption process slow, looking. They’re not really looking for a hedgehog- the species doesn’t matter. It’s the kid that does. I don’t even think the two of them really know what they’re looking for when they start. I mean, how do you put parameters around this sort of thing? Ultimately, Gigi wins them over. She’s funny, she’s creative, she’s sweet even if she’s a hellion, she’s protective, she gets into fights- she’s them. They see her in them. They get this kid. The child care staff warn them about her being 'stubborn and standoffish,' and overall ‘difficult to work with’. That pisses Shadow and Amy off royally. Not like that's unfamiliar territory- they’ve been this kid, frankly. When they meet Gigi, they’re smitten, and frankly, them coming from a place of understanding with her helps her warm up to them. When they fully decide to go for Gigi, they take the process slow, letting her get to know them, letting her decide if their home is the place she wants to be.
And she decides, 'yes.'
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im in LITTERAL obito hell. Can i please get hcs for obito w total sub fem s/o. God, i really need therapy bc how much i need a man like him 😭
Nonny,
We all are in Obito hell, especially when he's balls deep slapping your ass to the rhythm of your moaning.
Obito is a weird mix of a sub/dom himself, he’s going to need to be shown the ropes, idk why but he's aggressive in a tender way. 🙈🙊😇
NSFW; both y'all getting fucked stupid; there is no way around it; Obito likes to be owned too; (lightly edited because its late asf.)
It’s kinda cute actually. 🥹 His s/o is such a patient woman!! Has no issues with forcing his aggression on her. But HOLY, once Obito is in charge.
Babygirl, you're fucked. In every sense of the word. He's not super fond of tying you up because he really likes when your nails dig into his skin. Obito, bless his little Uchiha heart, can't really feel much on his right side due to nerve damage. So you can freely bite and claw your way up his arm and throat. For the love of god, leave those delectable red marks in the shape of your lips. Hickey's are his love language, and Obito won't hesitate to consensually leave you a handprinted necklace. A testament to how a bit you both are unruly and unhinged in the heated throes of sex.
He's so shy, but easily warms up to it. Especially when you look that gorgeous stuffed with his cock in your mouth. He loves loves loves when you hum from the base of his shaft and up to his tip, sucking there just a little harder than the rest of him. Please press a kiss there too every so often, the tender aspect of it makes him whine. You sucking him as the slut he's always needed just drives him bonkers, and may make him cum fast. And that's usually embarrassing for some men, but when you both are really in the mood for one another...this is just the starting line. You haven't even been stretched around him properly.
His absolute favorite thing is overstimulation. For both of you, he particularly enjoys cock warming in your mouth until he's hard and ready again. It goes without saying, but most Uchiha have a really quick refresh rate (breeding kink checking in). And, this is just my two cents, I love all the Uchiha men, but Obito is built like a damn semi truck, ok? Cock, balls and fuck if I don't love good thighs on a man. Powerful enough to just keep going and going and going... So have your fun now, because you're getting railed faster than the 'midnight train to anywhere.' Your pussy will be crying and raw by the end of the next two hours.
Obito might not even go soft if he's sucked deep enough in your throat. The muscles in the back milk him so damn good. Of course Obito's ideal woman swallows his cum whole, but he understands if you didn't like it coming out your nose like last time. Regardless, once he's been worked good enough, you better grip the sheets and expect to be flipped on your stomach. I truly believe that Obito's favorite position is face down, ass up. He loves to see you shudder and writhe, how each thrust ricochets through your lithe frame.
It gives him the most intimate view of his beautiful cock filling you too, seeing how deliciously you swell around his girth that first thrust in. You being a whimpering mess is an added bonus, even if you try to be quiet, you're not. Not really. Probably don't even remember half the shit you moan out when he's busy fucking you this way.
'Gods Obi...just like that..' or 'Please, I need to cum.' He really enjoys edging you, and then once he does allow you to cum, fucks you into oblivion until you can't stand it anymore.
His large palm pressing your face into the mattress as you stare up at him with glazed eyes, his other hand gripping your ass. He's not thrusting himself into you, he's thrusting you over his cock. The perfect little sleeve, and you glide so easy over him. In and out, the delicate tap tap tap of his cock head against your sensitive cervix just is so good, you cum so fast within the few minutes of being conquered this way. He doesn't mean it if it hits too hard, his cock is just that divine and long. Several orgasms leave you drenching his shaft, but Obito is far from cumming fast this time.
Expect to be thrown into every position known to mankind, and ending with every Uchiha males favorite. The mating press. Oh it's so so so hot, looking into those dark onyx eyes this way. He's incredibly one of the best Uchiha to watch when they cum. His eyes gleam with the impending orgasm that makes his cock twitchy and thicker. Hand at your throat, squeezing every time he feels the dull throb of your pussy sucking his cock in more and more. Each gentle swell of your overused walls reverberates up and down his aching need.
'That's right babygirl, you love to cum all over me.' and all you can do it moan more, words are beside your minds ability to function other than thinking about how full you are.
I know this is supposed to be a dominate situation for you guys, but Obito can't help but be a tender dom. Asking you if you're gonna cum all over his cock again, begging you to cum with him. You both are babbling little fucked out idiots here. And the moment that throb in the depths of your cunt shoots through you, making the both of you pant over each other's mouths. His hand tightens around your throat the second you moan his name for the hundredth time tonight, that undeniable sound of gratification and satisfaction as you cum hard all over his cock. Shaking, twitching and incapable of breathing due to his grip. Adding another layer of your juices to his balls and thighs, the bed is a damn lake from the two of you and it probably is reaching up your back now.
A final groan in your neck as you feel your orgasm coaxing his to fruition. Obito is a softie when he finally cums, it's just so hot to him when you want him to use you this way. Its the best offering for a man who was deprived of basic human touch. Being milked for all that he is worth in the most beautiful manner. SO much better than all those solo years as a 'handy man.' His cum, like most Uchiha, is thick and warm. Coats your insides and each subsequent thrust thereafter your mutual climaxes causes some of it to seep out around your raw opening.
The time you two take to come down and actually gather your senses is euphoric. Obito traces your skin, and rubs your aching thigh muscles when he finally sits up.
All in all, he's down to please you however. Maybe next time he'll wear that mask you always ask about...
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OMG OMEGA GAZ i have brain worms!
but also: omega!gaz being the territorial one. ignoring all other people who think they’re subtly rubbing their scents on his alphas and replacing them like he’s simply batting off a fly.
the girl hanging off of soap at a pub, possibly a little tipsy, is barely looked at while gaz beckons soap over for kisses and nuzzles. and soap like a lost boat at sea steps to the beautiful light that is his omega.
price and the new recruits who are a little starstruck seeing him do a demo are interrupted by gaz stealing his kerchief (or even hat) and wiping it over his scent glands. he tucks it back in it’s like nothing happened, leaving price with a smile and wave.
ghost, poor ghost, knows this person is flirting with him but they don’t stop thinking him just hard to get. queue gaz coming around the corner and trilling with delight at the sight of his big, patient alpha, close to blowing a fuse. and ghost’s standing straighter as gaz circles him a few times before kissing his mask and walking off.
(he gets in a little trouble later for this. for leaving them all wanting him and unable to find him because he disappears somewhere after they need a quick rut or another.) — 🖤
THIS! THIS THIS THIS!
OMEGA GAZ IS A LITTLE SHIT AND WE KNOW IT!
He would be the type to show off at anyone who thought they had a chance with his alphas. And this time, it's no different. His beautiful brown eyes clash with the girl that was trying to get a shot at Soap and smirks. He keeps eye contact as his mouth finds Soap's neck and bites. His inner wolf snickers at the defeated look on the girl's face.
Upon noticing how the new recruits looked on with heart eyes, he makes it clear who Price belongs to. And to add a little more salt to the wound, he proceeds to scent him in front of everyone. He then walks away with a smile and wave, not one bit remorseful.
When he rounds the corner and sees Ghost, he brightens up and circles him (completely ignoring the person trying to flirt with the alpha). His inner wolf purrs at the immediate attention he gets from the lieutenant. He grins at that and rewards him with a kiss on his masked lips and then walks off.
The alphas find Gaz later that night and punish him for hours. The poor Omega is unable to walk. Good thing he was off duties the following days.
#kyle gaz garrick#john price#john soap mactavish#simon ghost riley#pricegaz#soapgaz#ghostgaz#call of duty#cod#ali answers#such beautiful thinking you got anon!#Gaz would get into so much shit but he'd do it again
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Just to clarify
Dalv is NOT supposed to be that present in this game. He's been a loner for a long time. He's only started making friends again during the events of uty. Plus, if you know his backstory… it becomes understandable why we don't see him that much. Character-wise, it makes 100% sense.
The reason why Martlet feels like she's not on screen that much (she does get a good amount of screen time) is because she's scatterbrained. That's why we never get a "full" section with her like with Dalv (Ruins), Star (Wild East) and Ceroba (Steamworks). That's why the Snowdin section focuses more on other characters. Martlet comes and goes but always means well. Again, it has to do with her personality, and I think it's clever writing, much like with Dalv.
The reason we spend so much time with Ceroba is that a lot of things have been tied to her and her family right from the start and it all unfolded perfectly imo. There is foreshadowing:
Just had to get that out quickly because I heard some people complain about this stuff.
...also I forgot to mention how some complained about Ceroba's arc "not being completed by the end of pacifist"
To that, I say: IT MAKES SENSE. She's gone through too much trauma for it all to be resolved so soon. Healing takes time (Martlet gave a nice speech). I always thought that, by the end, the whole point wasn't for Ceroba to get closure, but to TAKE THE FIRST STEP (which she did)
The difference between her and Starlo (both have been through a lot in their own way) is that he's more idealistic and hopeful by nature (as we can see after he quickly bounces back from basically having his entire life shattered). Ceroba is emotional. Too emotional. She needs more time. Let's respect that and be patient.
#uty#undertale yellow#ut yellow#ceroba uty#uty ceroba#ceroba ketsukane#dalv uty#uty dalv#martlet uty#uty martlet#uty chujin#chujin uty#chujin ketsukane#i wish folks would look at things from different povs#instead of instantly judging these lovely characters
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