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ro-is-struggling · 24 days

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Earn It || Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: While Spencer was away on a case, you had no better idea than to send him spicy pictures of yourself as a way to encourage him to work harder to get home fast. You ignored his warnings and orders to stop and now that he was back home it was time to face the consequences of acting like a spoiled brat.

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, porn without plot, established relationship, dom!spencer, sexting, masturbation, bondage, dirty talk, cum eating, deprivation of touch used as punishment (if that makes sense? idk it's just porn)

English is not my first language

Word count: 3300

Notes: idk what this is, I have had this idea in my mind for a while now and I only wrote it because someone left me a nice message praising my spencer smut, so enjoy, I guess

You were buzzing with anticipation, counting down the minutes until Spencer got home. You knew you'd be in trouble —it was clear from the short messages he'd sent you—, but that was part of the fun. You had crossed the line this time. The messages you had sent him while he was stuck at work could only be described as torture. But you couldn't be held accountable for your actions, at least not completely. You missed him-his touch, his lips on yours, the sound of his voice calling your name-and you wanted to make sure he knew it.

Spencer had been away from home for too long, working a few states over to catch a killer who targeted young, blonde women. It was apparently a tough case so for the last few weeks you had to settle for talking to him on the phone late at night. Hearing his voice before bedtime was nice, comforting, but over time it stopped being enough. You missed having him by your side at night, feeling his warmth and the touch of his fingers on your skin. You missed his kisses, his soft lips caressing your body while you whispered his name into the darkness of the night....

It was clear that phone calls were no longer enough to satiate your need for him, so in a moment of impulsive arousal you decided to give him a little incentive to work harder to come home to you. You were simply showing him what he was missing.

The first picture you sent him was simple and tasteful, a conscious choice intended to lure him into your trap. It only showed the lower half of your face, your lips drawn into a sad pout. It also showed part of your chest which was covered by one of Spencer's shirts. It had the first few buttons undone, showing your collarbone and the mound of your breasts, but nothing more. You sent it with a simple 'I miss you', hoping he had his phone nearby to see it.

His reply came not long after, and you almost felt bad for what you were about to do when you read his innocent and oblivious 'I miss you too :(‘. You replied with another photo, this time much more revealing. The shirt was unbuttoned now, revealing the cute red lace bra that hugged your breasts. It was Spencer's favorite and you knew it was going to have the desired effect on him. 'I wish you were here...' you wrote before you sent it. And without waiting for a reply you sent him another picture, this time showing the full lingerie being, posing in a provocative way. Without hesitation you wrote 'to rip it off my body' and pressed send.

You knew your little plan had worked because Spencer didn't answer for quite a while. He had seen the messages, but he was probably too stunned and busy to reply to you. When he finally did, it was a warning. 'Behave.' was all he wrote back, but you ignored it. In the next picture you sent him you had removed your bra, your hard nipples framed perfectly in the picture. Two of your fingers were lost between your lips, the red lipstick slightly smudged at the corners. 'I wish they were your fingers' you typed and Spencer's reply was another warning. 'But I guess mine will have to do for now' you ignored him once again, sending him a video of you burying those same fingers inside you as you moaned his name.

Your provocative messages didn't stop until you came, but even though you knew Spencer had seen them, he didn't reply. Nor did he call you that night like he had been doing every day. He was silent for two whole days. Two long days in which you kept wondering if maybe you had taken things too far. It was torture waiting for some kind of sign from him that would bring you some relief, but when you read the message he sent you knew that had been his intention all along.

'I'm on my way home. I want you in bed wearing the red set by the time I get there.' was all he wrote and you knew he was angry. Spencer was going to make you pay for behaving so badly and you couldn't help but wonder what method he would use to teach you a lesson. Punishments were always creative with him. Spencer wasn't very keen on violence during intimacy, it reminded him too much of his job, you supposed. He was rough in bed when he was in the mood for it and never objected to giving you a spanking or two when you deserved it, but he didn't enjoy making you cry in pain or leaving severe marks on your skin.

Spencer was more of a soft, pleasure dom, which meant that most of the time he was more intense than aggressive. He loved the irony of using pleasure to create pain, often overstimulating you to the point that your body would scream for him to stop. His domination over you was more subtle, more psychological, so his punishments always had a hint of irony in them. The worst one —and at the same time, the best one– had been once you had come without his permission. His way of teaching you a lesson that time was forcing you to cum over and over again, attacking your abused pussy with his fingers, his tongue and a vibrator without giving you hardly any time to recover between orgasms.

You wondered if Spencer had something similar in mind, the very idea frightening and exciting you at the same time. Your clit throbbed between your legs, your panties ruined with your arousal before Spencer even got to lay a finger on you. That was the effect he had on you. All he had to do was send you a stupid message and your whole body would begin to tingle with anticipation, waiting for his command.

When you heard the sound of the apartment door opening you almost jumped out of bed with joy. There was nothing you wanted more than to run into your boyfriend's arms and shower him with kisses as you told him how much you had missed him. But you knew you couldn't —or, rather, shouldn't— do that. Spencer wanted you in bed, wearing his favorite lingerie, and that's exactly what you did. Even though it was a little late to play nice now, you didn't want to give him any more reason to prolong your punishment —whatever it was. So you settled on the bed, putting yourself in a suggestive pose and waited patiently for Spencer to enter the room.

He took his time and you knew he was doing it on purpose. Your punishment had begun the moment you decided to ignore his warnings and now you had no choice but to accept it. Listening to his footsteps walking around the apartment, knowing that he was only a couple of feet away without being able to do anything about it was a real torture, but you deserved it.

"I'm disappointed in you," was the first thing Spencer said when he finally entered the room. He had that hard look in his eyes that he always gave you when you disobeyed him - the one that told you it was in your best interests to listen to him. His pupils were widened, the beautiful hazel color almost completely taken over by the darkness of desire in his eyes. You shifted nervously on the bed, suddenly feeling small under his intense gaze. Spencer walked toward you and you felt like an animal trapped by the predator that wanted to eat it. There was nowhere to run.

"You've been a very bad girl," he clicked his tongue in disapproval, bringing his hands to his neck to loosen the knot of his tie. "Teasing me with those pictures while I was at work, ignoring my warnings, cuming without my permission." Spencer shook his head and you sunk your teeth into your lower lip. The tone in his voice —too calm for someone in his position— almost made you regret your little stunt. Almost. "If you want to act like a spoiled brat, I'll treat you like one."

Spencer ordered you to sit on the bed with your back against the headboard. You obeyed without question, knowing that this was not the best time to complain. You watched him remove his tie in one tug, twisting the soft fabric in his hands before approaching you. He was careful in tying your wrists to the headboard, his fingers barely grazing your skin as he made sure to limit your movements, leaving you completely at his mercy. It was torture to feel him so close and not be able to touch him. Not to mention how incredibly frustrating it was that his hands barely rested on you when it was strictly necessary, as if your skin was burning him. You hated it, but when you let out a whine of protest, Spencer gave you a look that let you know it was best to keep your mouth shut.

"You're going to stay there and keep your eyes on me at all times." He stated with a calmness in his voice that should have alarmed you. But instead of wondering what he was up to —and what that calm meant to you— your mind was distracted by the slow movement of his hands as he unbuttoned his shirt, revealing himself to you. " Now you'll know how I felt when I saw your pictures and those videos of you pleasuring yourself while I was stuck at work, unable to do anything about it."

Spencer moved closer to you, leaning down to be at eye level with you. The air caught in your throat as you stared at him, fearing that your mere breath might somehow cause him to pull away from you again. His gaze was firm, intimidating, but hidden among all the desire and lust you could still make out a glimmer of the characteristic softness in his eyes. It was an interesting contrast, captivating. It reminded you that no matter how rough he might be at the moment, the sweet, loving, everyday Spencer was just a word away.

You could hardly believe he was touching you when he took your face in one of his hands. His warm, slender fingers pressed over your cheeks, forcing your lips into a pout. He used his grip to tilt your head up to make sure your eyes never left his at any time. He had you trapped between his hand and his eyes, frozen still as you anxiously awaited his next words.

"Now you'll be the helpless one. You'll be the one that has to sit back and watch as I pleasure myself, tied to the bed, unable to do anything to relieve the pressure between your legs."

After removing the last of his clothes, Spencer settled himself on the opposite side of the bed. He made sure you had the best view of him and his hard cock before he began to pleasure himself. Your eyes followed the movement of his hand as if you were being hypnotized. Up and down, up and down, his hand moved along his shaft while his mouth let out the sweetest moans you had ever heard. Every little gasp he let out went straight to your center, that throbbed desperate for attention. Spencer sounded desperate and you wondered if he hadn't relieved himself since you had sent him those pictures.

You fought your bonds without even realizing it, your body responding in its own accords to Spencer's stimulation. He didn't scold you for it, on the contrary he seemed to enjoy it. He increased the pace of his hand slightly, his eyes never leaving your figure. The way they roamed over your body —slowly moving down from your face to your neck, stopping at the curve of your breasts before trailing their way down your abdomen and to your legs— almost felt like his caresses. If you concentrated hard enough you could feel the ghost of his fingers following the path of his eyes. But it wasn't enough, not when you were trapped listening to Spencer's moans, watching his hand move up and down his cock as his tip leaked precum. Your mouth watered at the sight, yearning to feel the weight of his cock against your tongue. You could almost taste the salty treat on your tongue, your brain recreating it as best it could. It was criminal that he wouldn't let you touch him when he was so close to you.

"Like what you see?" Spencer mocked you as a pathetic whimper managed to escape your lips. "It's such a shame you were so bad 'cause right now you could be the one touching me... And I could be pleasuring you."

"Yes, please! I'm sorry, I won't do it again. Just please, I need it." you begged, momentarily excited by the mention of him pleasuring you. You were willing to do anything to end this torture.

But Spencer wouldn't budge. "Oh, I know you do, baby. I can see the wet spot in your panties from here. But I can't give it to you. Only good, obedient girls get what they want and you have been very, very bad."

He enjoyed every second of your torture, delighting in the whimpers you let out and the way you struggled against your bonds. Your body squirmed deliciously on the bed, protesting against the lack of attention. Spencer responded to your whimpers with moans, being more vocal than usual to prolong your torture. Every sound he let out increased the fire in your stomach along with your frustration. Your pussy tightened around nothing, desperate for attention. The pressure in your tummy was too much, almost unbearable. You needed relief, whatever would help you take the edge off.

You didn't even realize you were squeezing your legs together until it was too late. You were desperate and while the little friction your thighs provided as you squirmed was not enough, it was better than nothing. Your clit pulsed with every little movement, your juices trickling down your legs and making your job easier. You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to concentrate on the subtle tingling between your legs to see if you could increase the pleasure that way somehow. The moan that fell from your lips was pathetic, a mixture of pleasure and frustration that alerted Spencer to your little trick just as you were getting somewhere.

You snapped your eyes open as you felt the impact of his hand against your calf. Spencer gave you a stern look, his expression blank as he forced your legs apart again. "You do that again and I won't let you cum tonight, am I clear?"

"Yes, sir!" you whimpered, feeling your hope renewing at the promise of a future orgasm. "I'm sorry! I'll be good, I promise."

It was real torture to have Spencer so close, naked and stroking his cock inches away without being able to touch it. His moans were getting louder and louder, his words dirtier and more condescending —praising your expression of desperation and mocking the way you twisted against your bonds. Your desperation increased along with the speed of his hands, which worked increasingly faster to bring him to the edge of pleasure. He was close, you could feel it, and as pathetic as it sounded, so were you. Your underwear was ruined, soaked with the juices of your arousal. Spencer hadn't touched you, but you were sure that a simple brush against your clit was all you needed to reach your climax.

"Was it worth it, baby?" He managed to say between gasps. "Was it worth it to disobey me? Sending all those pictures just to end up like this, tied to the bed, forced to watch me pleasure myself while you get nothing."

Oh Spencer was enjoying torturing you way too much. He wanted to break you, push you to your very limit and hear you beg for his forgiveness. He wanted you to earn your relief just as you had earned your punishment and he wasn't going to stop until you begged for mercy. In another circumstance you might have put up more of a fight, after all, it was always fun to riled him up. But you were far too desperate to feel his touch to play hard to get. You needed him, you'd been apart too long and you couldn't stand the distance a second longer.

"No, it wasn't! I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done it. I should have listened to you. I won't do it again, I promise! I'll behave! Just, please... please." There was no way to hide the pathetic tone in your voice. You were so frustrated, so needy for attention, that you could almost feel the tears burning in your eyes. You were willing to cry if that's what it took to earn Spencer's forgiveness. You would do anything to feel his hands on you.

"Oh yeah? You'll behave?" He spoke as if he didn't believe you, a wicked smile playing on his lips as he increased the pace of his hand. "Will you stop acting like a spoiled brat and be my good, obedient little girl?"

"Yes! I'll be your good girl, I promise! I'll be so good for you, sir! Please."

Suddenly, Spencer stood up from his place on the bed, approaching you in a couple of steps. "Open up then." He commanded bringing the head of his dripping, reddened cock close to your lips. You didn't need him to tell you twice, tilting your face up as you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out, eagerly waiting to taste him.

"That's it, that's a good girl... swallow it, swallow all of me... good girl." Spencer moaned as he came in your mouth, his hand stroking himself until he shot the very last drop of cum on your tongue. The squeal of bliss you let out at the taste of his salty flavor was pathetic, but you were too far gone to care. You eagerly swallowed everything he gave you, devouring it as if it were the sweetest candy.

Spencer mumbled sweet praises as he came down from his high, caressing your head with his usual softness. It was a small action, but you missed his touch so much that it was enough to fill you with joy. You thought you were finally in the clear, that you had received your punishment so well that Spencer would show you mercy and finally let you touch him. But when he sat down across from you again and looked into your eyes, you noticed that the intimidating darkness was still present in them. You struggled against your bonds once more to see if he would take pity on you and untie you. But he answered you with a click of his tongue that stopped you immediately.

"You did such a good job for me, baby." Spencer's voice was barely a husky whisper. He brought one of his fingers up to your cheek, collecting the drops of his cum that hadn't made it into your mouth. You tried to lean into his touch, but he removed his hand quickly, bringing his finger to your lips. He didn't have to tell you what to do, you automatically opened your mouth and wrapped your tongue around his finger, tasting his relief.

"But your punishment isn't over yet. You earned your relief, but haven't earned my forgiveness yet. You still don't get to touch me. Now open those pretty legs for me. I'll give you what you want and we'll see how much you can take."

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid #criminal minds

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slayfics · 5 months

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Late night texting with Eijiro.

Warnings: Eijiro aged up | NSFW themes

Eijiro tossed and turned in bed unable to drift to sleep with the memories of today's spar plaguing his mind. He had been rougher with you than he intended to today and he couldn't help but feel guilty.

Giving in to his worry Eijiro grabbed his phone and decided to message you.

Hey, I just wanted to say I'm really sorry about today's spar. I didn't intend to be so rough. I hope you're alright.

You responded to him almost right away,

Kirishima it's late you should be asleep!

I couldn't help it! I just wanted to make sure you were doing ok.

I'm fine, no need to worry. Look, it isn't even that bad.

You texted and sent over a picture of your injuries from the spar. Eijiro felt his breath catch in his throat as soon as his eyes focused on the image.

You were lying in bed and had pulled your shirt up to show the injuries to your abdomen left from the spar.

He knew you were just trying to ease his mind by showing him the injuries weren't anything to worry about, but he couldn't help his mouth from falling open and his cheeks warmed by an excited blush.

The image showcased your body so perfectly lying delicately in bed. Eijiro couldn't look away from it as badly as he wanted to. This isn't manly at all. He thought as he found himself excited by a picture of your bruised body. Even still knowing it was wrong, his grip tightened on his phone and his heart rate increased the longer he stared.

Just as his hormones shot him nefarious thoughts causing his member to enlarge, you messaged him again.

Hello? You fall asleep on me Kiri?

Fuck, he typed out a response fast.

I'm still up! I guess it's not too bad, but I'm still sorry!

Stop apologizing! Besides, I got you pretty good too right?

Yeah, you did! You did amazing today!

Alright, let's see it then!

Eijiro felt himself freeze for a second time tonight. You- You wanted a picture of him? Eijiro shook all crude thoughts out of his mind. Don't be a perv, he told himself. You were just wanting to make sure his injuries weren't bad.

Eijiro must have been contemplating the meaning of your request for longer than he thought because you texted him again.

Unless you feel uncomfortable then it's totally fine you don't have to!

No no, it's fine! Give me a second!

Eijiro jumped out of bed panicking. You wanted a picture of him! He looked around his room and clumsily stumbled into the restroom deciding that was the best place to do it.

Ok ok, you can do this, he thought trying to hype himself up. Besides he is usually shirtless in his hero costume right? But for some reason, this felt so different. Eijiro struggled to keep his hands from shaking as he ripped off his shirt and nervously took selfies in front of the mirror.

What the hell am I doing, he second-guessed himself as he scrolled through the pictures he took deciding on the best one. Finally settling on one he nervously pressed the send button.

Your response came in minutes but felt like ages as he shakingly waited. Did he show too much skin, he wondered? He hoped his picture didn't look too suggestive. But you asked for one right? So it's fine, he thought, trying to ease himself.

Eijiro's eyes snapped to his phone as soon as it buzzed with a response from you.

Damn.

Was all your message said.

Damn, what?! He thought, running his hands over his face. Maybe you meant his injuries? Of course, right? That is what you two were talking about.

Yeah, you got me pretty good, but don't worry I'm alright!

He responded, commenting on the darkened bruises on his own abdomen that you had given him.

Not the injuries silly. You. You look good.

Eijiro's face burnt red hot reading your message. Do you really think he looked good? Was that the real reason you had asked him for a picture? Were the injuries just an excuse to ask, he wondered.

You look good too.

He typed and sent before thinking, panic caused him to quickly send a follow-up text.

Oh man, that sounded so pervy I'm sorry! I didn't mean for that to be weird or anything!

However, you didn't respond to Eijiro with a text but with another picture instead. This one was more provocative than the last showcasing even more of your body.

Eijiro suddenly felt his sweats become tighter as his excitement grew at the revelation that you were doing this on purpose. You wanted him to look at you with lustful eyes.

Yet again, Eijiro found himself staring too long causing you to send him a follow-up text.

Don't be rude, send one back.

Eijiro dabbed at the blood beginning to leak from his nose, as he realized: this was going to be a long night.

Tags: @unofficialmuilover @maddietries

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cherry-leclerc · 1 month

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stolen sweethearts ☆ cl16

genre: humor, angst, yearning, pining after three years so maybe slowburn??, fluff, second chances, whipped!charles

word count: 4.3k

Everything that leads to your wedding day and ends up with a knock on your door from your ex-boyfreind and an infamous letter.

req!...longer than intended, whoops! enjoy, anons :)

inspired by this !

“You’re making a mistake—”

Your eye twitches in the slightest, glossy lips curling into a snarl. “Shut up and be quiet.”

“What?”

Looking down at your boyfriend, dressed in Armani from head to toe and a blank expression, you wince apologetically. You grasp his hand tighter, knuckles becoming white, and smile widely, tears brimming the corner of your eyes. “Not you, honey!” A wet chuckle escapes when he visibly relaxes. “Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes.”

The engagement party was a pleasant surprise, filled with congratulations and early wedding gifts. It also brought out a large group of your friends from hibernation. “Felicidades,” Carlos says with a teasing smirk. “I truly never thought I’d see the day you settle.”

You bit the air. “Ha ha. That was the old me. New me is a completely changed woman thanks to true unconditional love. It’s crazy, try it out some time,” you shoot back.

The Spaniard simply scowls and bows away, returning to his earlier conversation. You consider yourself lucky—as if you committed a successful heist and somehow got away with it. He was handsome, with bright eyes, dark hair, and tempting lips. There truly wasn’t a single flaw to your now fiancé. And if there were, no one ironically saw it but Lando.

“You’re making a—”

“Mistake?” you finish off his sentence, sighing and rubbing your temples. “So you say.” You were in the middle of ordering yourself another piña colada when he hounded you like a madman. The Brit blows out with a tired expression, as if he were giving up on all of humanity.

“Yes. Yes. A thousand times yes.” Angling your head to aim a dirty glare, you silently flip him off as he uses your earlier words against you.

“Aren’t you tired, Lan? It’s been three years, let it go.”

The blue eyed boy musters a threatening look and then rips your sweet treat away from your grip, immediately claiming ownership. Your brows fly up with an offended scoff. He chugs it all down before shaking his curls adamantly. “No, I will not let it go. Bloody hell, you’re one stubborn gal—you can’t go through with this.”

For the shortest second, a ray of hesitance strikes your face when you spot your fiancé, happily indulging in a round of shots with Carlos, Max, and Daniel. The group laughs with amusement over something he says. Your lips wobble, turning back to your friend, shooting lasers. “Why not? And please don’t say—”

“Charles.” Somehow, even with the mention of his name, your world still manages to spin off its axis, alarming your remaining sanity. Last time you saw the Monegasque was quite the day, ending with regretful words and inferior decisions. Lando grimaces when you let out a shaky breath. “You know you haven’t gotten over him. And I can guarantee you that this…” He spins his index finger around the flashing room. “Will not make the difference you're hoping it will.”

Have you made your Christmas list? I told you I need it at least two weeks prior. I work well under pressure, but for God’s sake, honey, this is too much. Charles chuckles, cleaning his pair of Ray Bans against the hem of your skirt. You sigh.

Oui. Making his way over to his duffel bag, he retreats a crumpled up piece of paper. Oh, um, shit. The green eyed boy cringes with embarrassment, pouting modestly. You swallow the giggle sliding up your throat when he frowns furthermore. I swear I had it! It must've gotten crushed with all my stuff. You know what? Charles strolls over to the flight of stairs. I’ll just make a new one, give me a sec.

As soon as he leaves, you yawn, stretching out like a cat. You can’t help the fluffy feeling; Christmas always adds to it. But something about this one felt distinctively different and you couldn’t place the reason why.

Your orbs flicker across the dimly lit room before falling back to the thin piece of paper. Patting your palms on your thighs, you get up and delicately open it up, curiosity overflowing. It shouldn’t have mattered, he was going to re-write it anyways.

His calligraphy had always been messy, and yet you always—somehow—understood; from the start of his sentences to the final dot. But this had to be the one and only time you wish you weren’t so comprehensive.

I’ve been thinking about us

A lot recently, actually

I’ve had some thoughts over these past few weeks and

I think we should just end things.

You bat your eyes, already feeling the pressure forming behind, stinging harshly. Was this meant for you? For you to find? Had it been intentional the moment he pulled out the fucking note? Would he just not come back and was it all an excuse?

But he does. And his pale face answers all of your questions.

Oh fuck, what have you done?

Rage fuels within you as you briskly brush away the acid sliding down your burgundy cheeks, heat rushing through your body. What have I done? What the fuck is this bullshit, Charles?

The Monegasque instantly rushes over, trying to get ahold of the piece of paper. You rapidly pull it away and force a step back as you let out a wet chuckle. He winces at the cold sound. Why would you do that? Why did you do that?

So you’re not denying it? You wrote this? You knew he had, his writing was imprinted into your brain like a manuscript you had professionally studied endless hours.

His skin only loses more color with every passing second. I’m not trying to blame you! I did. I did write that—but that was so long ago, you have to believe me, and I can explain! He kneels down, silently pleading you to bless him with a spare minute. Just let me explain it all to you.

I never took you for a poet, you bitterly spit out as you continue skimming through the full page. You have a lot on your mind—a lot. Scanning his desperate state, you can’t help but let out a soft whimper, scrunching your nose.

I’m not, shit. He grips your thighs from where he is and lets out a set of shaky breaths. Do you remember when—

I don't want to remember, you let out. I just simply want to forget.

He can creepily hear the way your heart is breaking and how his follows along with every word, puncturing his soul. You don’t even notice his coming arm, taking half of the note away and you irritatedly pull back, causing it to rip in half.

That does it, bullying you down to the floor where you start to cry. Out of anger, out of betrayal, out of everything. The green eyed boy tries to soothe you, mumbling into your hair but you’re too busy zoning out that you don’t catch a single confession.

Leave.

Charles flinches; you can feel it as he presses close to you. What?

He almost doesn’t recognize you when you furiously push him off, crawling back with a sense of suffocation. Pain crosses his eyes as he watches you create distance. I don’t want you anymore. I don’t want you here anymore—leave.

Anyone who knows Charles would know that he never gave up. He either spoke down on himself and pitied for a while, but never ever gave up. So this was a first. A tough pill to swallow.

If that's what you want me to do, then…okay. He stands up firmly, but inside he’s terrified that his limbs might call out for the day. But I love you. So don’t ever ask me to stop. And he walks out of your life after evilly twisting the knife.

With a new note and ring box deep inside his pocket.

Despaired eyes flicker over to where Charles eases into a conversation with Carmen and George, occasionally clenching his jaw. You hadn’t invited him—that’s just absurd—but he had gotten word from blabbermouth Pierre and you didn’t have the solidity to say no. From the looks of it, he didn’t want to be here either.

“Well I’ve got news for you, my dear friend, I love Hudson, so climb on board because this is happening…” Your voice trails off the second your ex looks up, as if he felt your eyes drawn onto him. Normally they’re dazzling and filled with joy, but the unfamiliar injured expression is like a punch to the gut. Your conscience calls you out on it, slapping you back into reality. Turning to Lando, you purse your lips tightly. “Who even is Charles?”

“God! When I saw Charles had showed up I just wanted to dig up a hole and never come out! Who would willingly go to their exes' engagement party?” Like a spinning top, you fume at Kika whose eyes shine at the sight of you, even after barking. “You should have warned me Pierre would do that. God, I hate that jerk sometimes.”

The Portuguese hums. “Me too…” You flick a questionable brow. Kika giggles, fixing your white gown, feathering it out like a dove. “I know, I should have! Bad friend, bad friend,” she childishly says. You can’t help rolling your eyes, returning your attention back to your reflection. “But if we’re being truthful here, someone should have warned Charles.”

“What are you talking about?”

Taking a quick sip of the complimentary champagne, she nods enthusiastically. “No one gave him a heads up. He thought it was just any other ordinary party—nowhere near a proposal.”

Your stomach churns, mortification taking over at the sudden report. Charles’ reaction was odd, but you couldn’t help filling up with satisfaction, climbing onto your high horse when you saw it. Never in a million years did you ever consider that being a surprise to him too. Hellooo? Coughing awkwardly, you swat her hand far away. Kika yelps.

“Yeah, well he deserves it.” You chug down the rest of her drink in a matter of seconds. Her wide eyes grow larger as she nervously giggles. “No one ever gave me a warning either.”

You were never one for being superstitious, but if anyone ever taught you something valuable, then it would be to never make contact with the groom before the wedding ceremony. He probably didn’t know any better—it of course wasn’t intentional—but that doesn’t stop your heartbeat from spiking up when you spot your fiancé sauntering over to where to stand.

“What are you doing here?” you hiss. Hudson furrows his thick brow. What are you talking about? I came to see you. You look fucking hot by the way. Squeezing your eyes shut, you shoo him, expensive jewelry clinking against one another. “Listen, that’s sweet and all, but you need to leave or else you’re going to ruin it!” You already did, the devil on your shoulder growls. You try relaxing, but can still feel the tenseness shifting between your shoulder blades. “Hudson, I’m dead serious, go.”

The stubborn brunette raises his arms in defense, mouthing a quick wow and walking back out. Were you being a tad bit colder than intended? Was there a better way to deal with the unwanted interaction? Yes. Probably. That’s what you tried to convince yourself because you knew the longer you pondered, the quicker you would realize that Lando was right.

You were making a mistake.

Charles isn’t any better off. He twists and turns the entire night, debating whether he should attend the occasion he knew would most likely make him flat line, but the curiosity definitely got to him. He always wondered what type of dress you would exclusively choose, perfect in every detail. Your hair, your heels. Your smile. Because they weren’t all the same. There was the kind that would sort of slip to a subtle, shy frown when he would compliment you, so he often saw lots of those. Or the kind that would cause your eyes to crinkle—he witnessed those when he would tickle you half to death, laughing loudly as tears would start to form. What he would kill to see you beam back at him once again…

But naturally, he talked himself out of it. What good does it do for him? The following morning, as he blinks strangely at the white wall, he starts to reminisce to himself. Like your first date—which was originally for both Carlos and Isa—but you both weaseled your way in. Or the time he taught you how to skate; only to remember he doesn’t know how to skate. He kept apologizing as the doctor secured your arm with a bright pink cast, but you only laughed, begging him to be the first to sign it. You were probably high off of meds, but still.

A peculiar feeling washes over as he spots an old shoe box. He almost dashes out of the arctic room when he realizes what it holds, but deliberately crunches down to open it.

And he knows what to do.

“He wants to see you,” Lily shrieks, peeking out into the hallway, then jumping back in. The teal dress was doing wonders for her skin tone, but you couldn’t help the agitation. Tell him I don’t want to see him. We have a whole lifetime to do that, you groan, slipping onto your heels.

Your bridesmaid clicks her tongue, widening the entrance as you hold back a much needed gasp. “I think you should tell him yourself…”

“I only need a minute,” Charles stammers, a thin layer of sweat coating his sharp nose. You’re too afraid to speak, so you robotically nod as you watch everyone scurry out, giving you two privacy. The twenty-six year old shyly gets closer, gently pinching a piece of paper in between his clammy grip. Your heart stops. “I walked beneath a ladder…on my way here,” he clarifies. You blink, long lashes fluttering like a fan. “I don’t think I’ll ever learn.”

If I had known you were this manly, I would’ve married you a lifetime ago. It slips out like a force of nature before you can stop yourself as your boyfriend halts from his task. The day was soon ending, late November, and you were both working together on painting the bedroom your dream shade. He had tried talking you out of it because it was simply—just white— but you had hounded him until he agreed. Now he stands here with a white coloring staining his dark gray shirt and you’ve never been happier.

Is that something you might want? Charles tries to play it cool, picking up from where he left off, lips itching into a goofy grin. To get married?

You’re almost glad he’s not facing you since you're as bright as a tomato. I won’t lie, I’ve definitely thought about it. You take a sip of water, suddenly caught with a dry throat. Could be nice.

The Monegaque flips around to face you, placing the paint roller down and strolling over to where you sit criss-cross. You visibly gulp; electricity slipping into the small room. It would be, wouldn’t it? His pink lips ghost over yours as you lean in a bit.

Yeah…

Could kiss you anytime I want… Kiss. Fuck you anytime I want… Another kiss. My fucking dream.

You moan against his touch, melting away like an ice cream sundae. I-I-I really think we could do it; be married. You had been together for so long now, you’re honestly surprised you hadn’t had this conversation any sooner. I would choose that exact same shade for my dress, you squeal, pointing at the wet wall. He hums. Not eggshell, not timid white—whipped cream, if you will.

Ahhhh, smart girl, he teases, nipping at your bottom lip. You practice this shit when I’m not around?

You laugh. I’ve been taught all kinds of tones from birth. My father was a painter himself, remember?

Of course I do, mon amour. He only created the best piece of art yet, he announces with a cheshire smile, watercolor eyes pointing down at you. You blush.

You’re such a klutz, you would probably do something stupid like walk underneath a ladder on our wedding day. You only do it every time, you say, wiggling out of his grip as he tickles you.

I swear I don't do that shit on purpose, it just happens, okay?

Pressing your nose against his, you cozily sigh. As long as we don’t see eachother until the actual ceremony, then I won’t be too upset.

Is that a promise?

You nod. That’s a fucking vow.

“You called it.”

Shifting uncomfortably, you chuckle when you nearly tip over. “Yeah, you’ve always been like that, but don’t think about it too much—it’s not like it’s your wedding.”

He clenches his sharp jaw. “Sure, but bad luck is bad luck, no? And I think I’m quite familiar with it.”

His words shouldn’t impact you so much years laters, but they do. Perhaps it’s due to his sorrowful stare, or his anxious tick, but it kills you just the same way it did that December night. You let out a light shudder, blinking away tears. “What do you want, Charles?”

“I wrote you a letter.”

God—a heartfelt note is the last thing you wanted and today was not the day to receive it either. Or ever. Not when it came from him. “I’m sorry, but it’s a bit too late for that. I’m about to be a married woman in approximately an hour.” You narrow your neat brows, flawless makeup shimmering against the sunbeams. “What gives you the right to walk back into my life, get shit off your chest for your own sake, and just for you to do what? Leave?”

You’re not being fair; not completely, but you can't help it. For the longest time, you thought you were over it, but clearly not. Charles licks his rosy lips, closing the gap between you two. “This isn’t something I just came up with.” He extends his arm out. “I wrote this three years ago.”

You inhale sharply, suspiciously eyeing the white paper. Please, just read it. Back then you could never turn him down, as much as you tried…

And it appears like today wasn’t any different.

It’s almost hilarious to think about how much you cried on your proposal date and how much you are now. You were a light rain at best when Hudson got down on one knee, but Charles stands here, tall, and you’re a complete waterfall.

“Y-you were going to ask me to…” A headache comes rolling in as you let out a wet cry. “This isn’t true; it isn’t real. You wrote this today and came here to fuck with me.”

The Monegasque shakes his head in panic, blood painting his higher cheekbones. “No—listen; the first letter you found, I did write that.” You grimace. “But I swear I took it back immediately. It’s just that you were getting so much hate during that time, and you would always cry, and then you’d say you were never crying…You were in a really dark place. Do you remember?”

How could you not? You knew not everyone was going to love you for dating one of the top Formula One drivers, but you never expected to read such brutal messages either. They were descriptive, and cruel, and ruthless, and it crushed you more than you’d like to admit. Which was fucking stupid since there was always a rather large community that loved and adored you, and Charles loved and adored you—and yet.

You release a shaky breath, desperately rubbing your eyelids. Lily would probably throw a fit at your now snotty and smudged makeup, but you couldn’t really think too deeply about any of that right now. “What does that have to do with anything?”

The brunette cradles your face and you hate when you lean into his warm touch. “I just wanted all of that to end; for you to feel better. And I could never actually say the words, so I drafted a letter, and I’m so fucking sorry, mon amour.” The tides crash inside your chest, getting harder to breathe. “It has been my biggest regret. Hurting you.”

He did more than hurt you; he broke you completely. Like a porcelain doll, like a trophy, like a mirrorball; it ruined you. But you know he knows that when his eyes slowly turn red. “But then I thought to myself, it doesn’t have to be that way! W-we could restrict comments, I could post something and stand up for the woman I love, and I could reassure her by vowing the most sacred thing there could ever exist…And I sat down and wrote this letter.”

If you thought Charles loved you before, then you’re a fool. He was utterly infatuated, devoted, obsessed and drowning in fervor. This letter may be old, slightly cutting loose around the edges, but it’s pinned as straight as can be. Not like the last.

“My only mistake was writing the first, and to even consider giving up on us. My best decision has been writing the second, and promising to stick by you the way I knew I was put on this Earth to do.” Charles carefully draws you in closer. “But I know nothing could ever fix the shit I’ve put you through, but I’m begging for the chance to try.” He kisses your temple and you relax against his lips. “I’m fucking desperate—just one.”

He slips out his original ring box and shines the gem back at you. It’s smaller than the one Hudson had given you, thinner too.

But it has you written all over.

A dizzy spell hovers over as you blink hastily. Charles doesn’t dare to breathe, waiting for you. “This isn’t…I just…” You bite your lower lip, glossy orbs flickering towards the band and then back at him. “Thank you for taking the time to apologize and clear things up; I really needed that, but I can’t do this.” You step out of his embrace, immediately freezing as if you were spending a winter in Iceland. His heart palpitates hysterically, green eyes skimming your features. “This isn’t what I had in mind—this isn’t what’s supposed to happen,” you press sternly.

“You’re right; it’s not.” Though you had just said the same, hearing him repeat it jams the knife deeper into your heart. You can hear chaos ensuing down the hallway, your friends chirping happily at one another. Contrary to what was going on in here. “It’s not because you can’t marry him. Because you know you don’t love him the way you say you do.” He laughs. “You tolerate him at best! I saw the way you avoided him getting down on one knee that day. You kept running off until you couldn’t anymore.” You burn up. “And who was the first person you looked for as he slipped that ring onto your finger? Me.”

“You’re paying too much attention to detail,” you retort, almost snarling.

“Sure, and that’s eggshell.”

It’s like a slap to the face. Your blurry vision focuses onto your dress for a second before snapping back up. “It’s whipped cream. The way I wanted.”

The Monegasque rolls his watercolor eyes, nostrils fuming. “Open up your eyes and see—It’s. Eggshell. Nothing about this is anything you ever dreamt of for your wedding! From your dress, to your ring, to your fucking fiancé!” He huffs. “This ring is all I could have afforded back then, but I would have sold my heart to get you a fucking star if that’s what you wanted…But you’ve always liked the simpler things. You always said you didn’t need a huge diamond to prove your devotion. Look at you now,” he says, signaling to your ring that swallows your hand whole. “All of this is fake.”

You’re sobbing now. You’re bubbling with anger. Because he was here, with you, out of all days. Because he was still the same man who broke your heart and stitched it back up.

Because he was right.

Brushing your nose with the back of your hand, you stare up weakly, defeated. “What do you want me to do?” you whisper, brows drawn together as he folds over completely over your goddess state.

“Don’t marry him and come with me.”

Though you knew that was what he wanted from the moment he walked past the door, it still knocked the last breath you held.

Things were never easy with him. There were constant fights—but that never seemed to matter by the end of the day. There was constant hate—but you always braved through it because you needed him.

And he steadied you. Charles was the first one to apologize, even if the majority of arguments weren’t his fault. Charles was the one who despite crushing his own heart, he wrote that letter to keep you untouched from his fans, from the media.

The letter hurt; like a motherfucker—and it would take a while to forgive…

But there’s no one else you would rather work through with it than with him.

Smiling softly, you nod, almost as if you can’t believe you’re actually doing this. Charles lets out a heavy exhale, laughing as he hugs you tightly, leaving you like a fish out on land. But you’re giggling through it all. “I have to talk to Hudson first, oh God, I have to talk to his family…” you shriek, pale and mortified.

“You know,” he starts. “We could skip all of that and just—”

“No,” you coldly press. Charles’ brows fly up. “I have to do this.” Distancing yourself from him, you wobble to the wooden door before looking back at the handsome man who stands proudly with his neat suit. Butterflies expand freely. “You’ll still be here when I get back, right?”

With a single hand pressed against his heart, he nods, as if you held the keys to all gates. “I’ll be wherever you need me to be from now on.” With that, you grin, eyes crinkling and exit the room.

What happened to your makeup? Lily squeals when she spots you running down the hallway, tripping over her tall heels as Alex catches her. There better be a reasonable explanation to this!

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @val-writes

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youraverageaemondsimp · 8 months

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If I can't have you, no one can. // Yandere!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader [ONE SHOT]

Summary: Aemond cannot bear to watch you be married to someone else.

WARNINGS: nsfw content, mdni: dark themes, obsession, possession, major character death, angst(?), yandere!aemond, smut (p in v, fingering), violence, murder, creepy behavior. + not proofread.

WC: 1,450

Aemond has always been obsessed with you as far as he can remember, he remembers the moment he fell in love with you.

He was a young boy, recently recovering from the incident at driftmark, wearing bandages around his face to recover, he didn't get out of his room much, too insecure to show his face after the incident.

The rare times he was out was to converse with his sister Helaena, and in those exchanges was when he met you, you were a lady of a small house, assigned to Helaena as a lady in waiting, or a playmate. She had introduced you to him and he was reluctant and had his guard up at first, but eventually he warmed up to you, and soon became friends with you too.

You saw him without his bandages once, it was an accident, Aemond panicked and screamed at you to get out, being extremely insecure at the wound, and you immediately obeyed, not wanting to anger him further.

You found him crying in a corner for an odd reason, and he looked up at you, before wiping his tears away and looking ahead. You sat down next to him to which he was surprised by.

“Why are you crying?” you asked him, and he sniffed, “You can drop the acting, I know you think I'm hideous, a monster.” he spits bitterly.

You gasp at that before quickly reply, “I do not, your wound is a proof of your bravery, I do not know how you got it, neither do I intend to pry on it if you are not comfortable, but it is a reminder that you are brave. That you overcame a dire situation.” you say and he sniffs once again, he hated being seen so vulnerable but never in his life did he feel so accepted and loved.

And then went on to tell you how he got it and by the end of the story you were seething, “Those vile bastards, how could they do that?” you seethed, Aemond was surprised at that before he chuckled, “I wasn't planning on hitting them with the rock, they are my nephews after all.” he explained his side and you nodded, defending him and taking his side.

It was the moment he fell in love with you, watching you talk about he didn't deserve that, you didn't pity him, you shared his anger and wrath, and from that moment onwards, he wanted to have you.

As you both grew older, Aemond's love got more twisted and dark, his love becoming obsessive and suffocating, he refused to let any man gaze at you longer than needed, always staying by your side and only leaving when he had to. He would lay on your lap as you read to him before pressing kisses on his forehead, you eventually fell in love with him too.

You were unaware of his doings, he killed multiple people who he saw as a threat, a threat to your relationship, he wanted to rip everyone who touched you to shreds, he wanted you to be only his, forever and ever.

And so begun your secret relationship, he would pull you to an isolate area to shower you in kisses and lovebites, he made your father get a position in the small council so you could stay in the keep, he would sneak to your room at night from the secret pathways.

He remembers vividly when he took your maidenhead, promising to marry you as he spilled his seed deep inside of you. He was the happiest man alive in that moment, he thought about you swelling with his child, and how much of a great mother you would be.

His plans came to an abrupt stop when he heard that you would be marrying a Cregan Stark, in hopes of bringing more allies to back up Aegon's claim when they usurp the throne, and also that Cregan had taken interest in you so much that he was willing to break an oath, which is never done by any Starks.

He saw red in those moments, felt pure rage, how could they propose that? The realm be damned for hells. He would rather rain fire on the realm than watch you get married off to someone else.

But alas, he was bound by duty and had to watch you be married to him, the wedding took place in the keep like your father had insisted, as the North would be too cold for them to visit.

The consummation of your marriage was to be done in your chambers. You had left early because you didn't want this either. Cregan was talking to important lords and it seemed that it would take a while before he retired.

So you laid on your bed thinking of what to do when you heard the door of the passageway open and your head snapped to the side finding Aemond, he immediately wasted no time pouncing on you.

“Fuck, fuck I can't let him have you.” He breathes against your neck, trailing kisses down to your breasts, he pulled up the chemise revealing your intimate area and breasts before he latched his mouth onto one and suckled like a hungry babe.

His hand trailed towards your intimate area, finding it wet already, “Is this for me or for him?” he asks, and your breath hitches in your throat when you feel him press the fingers down on your clit, “Y-you.” you say and he smirks before his rubs small circles against your clit.

His fingers trail down further and prod at your entrance before he slides in a finger, you gasp when you feel his fingers hit the rough patch almost immediately, it seems as if he knew it by memory. He thrust his fingers in and out, watching you squirm and moan his name, he wanted to be inside of you so badly, so he pulled his fingers out and licked them clean.

He undid his breeches before pushing your legs apart and burying himself in your cunt, you moaned in pleasure as you felt him spilt you open, you wrapped your legs around his hips and encouraged him to move, his hands pinned yours to the side before he started moving and rutting his hips against yours

You moaned and chanted his name like a prayer, he hands left your hands to grope your breasts as he kissed your lips, he pulled away to look at your dazed expression as he felt you clenching around him knowing that you are close, he watched as you closed your eyes before moaning his name out loud and coming undone beneath him, he groaned at the pretty sight.

His thrusts became more sloppier before he pushed to the hilt and came inside you with a loud gasp.

You both were breathing heavily, you pulled your chemise down and turned to him, he plopped down beside you, doing up his breeches and you rested your head on his chest, the moment was so perfect, but the truth weighed on him like a curse, and so he got up and paced the room, angrily, wanting to do something, but knowing he won't be able to do anything without destroying the alliance.

He can't let Cregan have you either.

You sat up and looked at him and then the atmosphere of the room shifted into a sinister one, Aemond going mad to his obsession with each second, he slowly stalked towards you before he stood in front of you, caressing your face and leaning down to kiss you.

“You're mine, you belong to me, I can't let him have you, no no, you're mine.” he grunted angrily and just then something evil popped up in his head.

His hand slowly reached for his dagger, you watched him, confused.

“If I can't have you…… ” he trailed off before kissing you.

“No one can.” he whispered against your lips as he plunged the dagger straight into your chest, digging it in your heart and stabbed you, you gasped in pain before the light in your eyes faded, falling unconscious.

He pulled his dagger out and watched as you fell backwards onto the bed, the life leaving your body, the blood soaking your chemise and now the white blood sheets, he snapped out of his dark thoughts and felt the weight of the situation.

He panicked when he realised what he had done, he immediately left the room when he heard the door open, hiding in the passageway, having guilt weigh on him, but he also felt satisfied in a sick way that no one could ever have you now, just like he can't.

Cregan screamed for the guards and for some odd reason, this entire situation somehow was blamed on the blacks, accusing them of sending assassins to kill you, this only made Cregan support the greens more.

Aemond had achieved what he wanted, but he couldn't bear to live along with the fact that you were gone, feeling lonely, he went mad and so, he followed you.

That day, Alicent screamed when she found Aemond's dead body, a letter written to apologise to everyone for leaving them behind, but he couldn't bear to live without you.

And so you and Aemond went down as a tragic story of unrequited love.

Where everyone tells the stories of how Aemond was smitten with you since a young age, but he watched you get married off to someone else and also die in the same night, it was told how he mourned and grieved for you, succumbing to madness before finally following suit.

The story was more sinister than that.

However they wouldn't know.

Nobody would know the truth.

———

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pinkmirth · 5 months

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⸻ 𝑃ℛℰ𝒮ℰℛ𝒱ℰ!

𝒮𝒴𝒩𝒪𝒫𝒮ℐ𝒮 ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ the belmont family has endured for centuries, and it’s now up to richter to keep it going strong. there’s only one way to ensure the expansion of his bloodline, and it’s simple; knocking you up.

𝒞𝒪𝒩𝒯𝒜ℐ𝒩𝒮 ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ ( 6k+ words of . . . ) richter belmont x fem!reader, canon-divergent, set in the 18th century (1700s), nsfw/smut, porn with very little plot, established relationship, size difference, nipple play, handjob, panty-ripping, p-in-v, heavy breeding kink, many mentions of pregnancy, missionary, tummy bulge, lotus position, creampies, richie’s a bit cocky (when is he not!), use of pet names (e.g. darling, love, good girl, rich, richie . . .), richter calls reader a ‘ cockslut ’ once, explicit language, lowercase intended, black coded, minors shoo!

𝑀𝒴 𝐿𝒪𝒱ℰ-𝒩𝒪𝒯ℰ! ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ after binging castlevania (nocturne), i instantly fell for that gorgeous man richter & his baby blue eyes >< he’s got a sharp mouth, a pretty face, and nice biceps– of course i’m in love with him! i just had to whip up somethin’ for my favorite belmont (dunno why, but i heavily believe their clan is crazy about breeding hmm) this was supposed to be an itty bitty drabble, but it ended up much longer than i thought it’d be . . . and might i warn you that this is mostly just sappy, nasty filth. now, please enjoy this smutty piece of work for richie! ❤︎

richter has made the renard household your favorite place on earth. more specifically, you’re fond of his homey bedroom. it’s got this olde charm to it, and a wide glass window with french-pinewood framing; one that offers a pleasant view of the grassy fields and neighboring stream that surround the cottage.

over anything else, his bed is surely the best part of it all. there’s a fluffy duvet in that dusty-blue color he likes, one so large that it covers his long legs even when they tangle between yours. the quilted mattress has just the right amount of space for two lovers, and is comfy enough to keep you warm throughout the night, considering the chance you might stay over.

though, there is a downside, as nothing can be perfect— it creaks far too much when he fucks you.

it’s not often that the both of you can make good use of that bed of his, especially when the noise makes things terribly obvious. you wouldn’t dare attempt anything improper in richter’s room with his adoptive family just a brief set of steps away.

there's a time for everything, but not that he cares. you try paying no mind to richter’s lingering touches along your waist, and how he mischievously dives underneath your bottoms to grab at the fat of your ass with a wicked grin; all as his aunt tera boils porridge and beans by the stovetop downstairs. you’re sure he finds joy in the risk, or more in provoking you.

it’s only when the house is empty, apart from you and richter and nothing else, that you can have your fun. like now, for instance. it’s out of pure luck that tera decided to pay a visit to the farmer’s market, and for maria to tag along with her mother as well. they mentioned something about wanting to buy the best of what the early-autumn harvest had to offer, with the meats being juiciest and the produce fresher than it’s been all year.

you believe that’s why richter’s got so much stamina— the plenty of food he’s been scarfing down lately. or, possibly, it could just be him . . . nothing but him, and his unexplainable belmont genes that make him fucking superhuman. he swears he’s normal, but the way he picks you up with such ease as soon as his family steps out the door can only be deemed as unnatural.

he's quick to sweep you off your feet, in the most abrupt way he can, of course. richter grins over the way you squeal as he whisks you past the kitchen, ‘round the table, and down the corridor. his hands work at keeping you upright, palms firmly planted under your thighs. he carries your weight like that of a feather and doesn't break a sweat. but considering where he’s headed, straight to his bedroom, that’ll soon change.

“don’t go getting all surprised on me,” richter voices a lighthearted whisper. he kisses the part of your neck that he can manage to reach from above the collar of your blouse, “you know what we do once we have the place to ourselves.”

“you snatched me off the ground without notice, i’ve all the right to be surprised— ohmygod, richter!” you sputter out a laugh, with his mouth on your flesh being so ticklish. you can feel his lips curving upwards, taking the shape of a smile. your arms fling around the back of his neck like second nature, fingers carding through his fluffy brunette hair. with zero patience, as always, richter kicks the door in with the shallow heel of his leather thigh-boot, slips into the room with you still in his arms, and shuts it closed by pressing you up against it.

he was right about one thing— once tera and maria leave, this is exactly how it goes. clothes are torn off with haste (mostly on richter’s end, as you could imagine), heated kisses are exchanged, and he spits the nastiest words with that sharp mouth of his in order to get you all worked up. the night sky and moonshine from the window gives his room this subtle tone of blue, but he makes you feel red-hot.

richter keeps you right where he wants you; held up by his unfiltered strength, with your back to the door. one moment, he’s drawing closer to you, raking over every detail of your face with nothing but admiration swirling in his eyes. by the next, his lips are moving languidly against yours, slightly unruly yet undeniably passionate. you wouldn’t dare admit how much of a damn good kisser he is. the man’s ego would fucking skyrocket.

though, you really don’t have to tell him anything. the way you reciprocate his affection says it all. he breaks away for a sparing moment, but not before bringing his tongue across your bottom lip in one playful swipe. it’s light, teasing, and completely of his nature.

“i can see it in your eyes, y’know.” richter chuckles at how you lean forward to chase after the warmth of his lips again. he brings you to your feet so he can slip off his fingerless gloves and undo any harnesses. he then crouches a bit to unzip his boots.

“see what?” you airily huff, haphazardly undoing button by button on your blouse until it’s completely open. similarly, he begins to make quick work of his top. you enjoy the flexure of his biceps as he pulls them out from the sleeves of his cerulean blue blazer-vest that he drops once free of, allowing it to scatter to the ground. you catch onto its emblem; the belmont crest, neatly embroidered upon the breast-pocket.

“how much you want this,” richter peers down at you, eyes gleaming the prettiest tint of blue. “it’s cute, how obvious you are.” his upper half is bare, and the smooth canvas of his chest is all can focus on while he closes in on you. you’re trapped between the sturdy door and his heated body, and you wouldn’t rather be anywhere else.

“you’re practically salivating over the thought of getting fucked, yeah? bet you wouldn’t mind if i took you right here.” he grins as he says it, staring unashamedly at how cleavage pools from your brassiere. richter creeps a finger underneath the strap, tugs it down and does the same with the other, dipping his head low to pepper your bare shoulder with feather-light pecks. before long, the bra’s at your feet.

“hm, but you’re no different,” you manage out, reveling in the warm lashing of his tongue against your nipple. it buds up the more he suckles at it.

“really, now?” he eventually parts from your breasts and rises back up to his full imposing height, carrying that faint smirk he forever wears. he looks so adorable this way— cheeks pink, lips spit-streaked. richter takes hold of your bottoms from either side of you, and swiftly brings them down with what you could only call pure impatience.

“yes, really. you’re just as desperate,” you counter him, reaching low to prove it. your palm grazes his bulge, and you give a few thorough squeezes; the kind that makes his mouth drop open.

“look at you, almost bursting out of your pants,” you quietly giggle, gazing up at him through the wisps of your lashes. richter wonders how you make such light fun while using your touch to undo him all at once. his breathing quickens, and it gets just a little heavier with your every attempt to caress his throbbing cock through his trousers. “seems like you need it more than i do, doesn’t it?”

“oh, fuck me . . .” richter whines, settling his head into the slope of your shoulder. your touch leaves him, just for a moment, to rid him of those restrictive pants. his cock springs free from its confines and bobs under its own weight. he’s got more length than girth; a good six or seven in size, with two thick veins running along the underside of him. the faint-pink tip prods at your thigh, staining your skin with precum.

he bucks against you hungrily, fingertips digging into the seams of your panties. you think you can hear them splintering apart. in the heat of things, he always winds up tearing your good underwear.

richter could ease into this moment and let your hand work him senseless, but there comes a time where he decides to end the charade. there’s also no knowing when his aunt and sister will return. he wants to make the most out of the unpromised time you have.

and so, he cuts your fun short with a mere rasp, “i’m through messing around with you. get on the fucking bed.”

no malice is found in his words; it’s just the height of his lust. you’d do as told, but richter’s already taking action into his own hands. with two, three— no, four steps, he’s standing at the bedside and splaying you across it. he snags off the remaining of your torn panties, left to suggestively decorate his floor. now, in all your naked glory, you’re bare and ready for him.

richter crawls over to you and kneels from above where you lay, situated closely between your legs. your thighs cushion either side of his lean hips. he leans down occasionally whenever you plead for a kiss, or wish to thread your fingers through his brown tousled hair. it now looks just a bit wilder than usual.

“c’mon— open, darling.” he hints at your legs, smoothing his warm palms down from your calves to your thighs. ever the compliant girlfriend, you part them nice and wide for his viewing pleasure. your cunt’s glossy and wet, clenching around nothing but the intangible air around.

‘oh, how pretty,’ he breathlessly murmurs, dragging two fingers across the expanse of your body. down, down, down, until they’re tracing along your slit. your dripping hole puckers against the pads of his index and middle, and you whimper when he threatens to push two inside.

“this wet, yet i’ve hardly done a thing,” his voice is ever boastful, “are you sure i’m the desperate one?” both fingers are suddenly replaced with his stiff erection, and he uses the precum-stained tip to catch onto your clit, resting warm and heavy against it. to that, you release a little ‘mm,’ and he taps against your puffy bud with the head of his cock— stopping once your hips start bucking for more.

“god, you just love to torment me . . . ” you huff out, vexation getting the best of you. “torment you? oh, never.” richter taunts, slotting himself between your puffy folds. he steers the way he glides against you by keeping a thumb at the base. “i just like to watch you squirm, is all.”

you know how to pry what you want out of him; a little bit of begging here, a small ounce of praise there. you lift your hips to grind against the underside of him, emitting soft moans whenever he rubs against your swollen clit just right, “richter, please. i really need your cock . . .”

“oh, baby,” he bites at his lower lip, giving in just as you expected of him. “i love it when you ask nicely.” in one fluid motion, he fits himself past the fleshy ring of your entrance and slips right inside. noise falls from you both; you’re gasping at the steady push, doing your best to accommodate every given inch, and richter’s letting small groans escape him, fingers digging into the tender flesh of your hips.

“always so fucking . . . tight,” he emits a shuddered breath, dropping his head to watch himself bottom out deep enough for his balls to nestle snugly against your ass-cheeks. you’re well connected now, to the point where his own pelvis has become sticky with your arousal. chestnut fringes drop into his view, and he sweeps his hair back with one hand threading through it.

“you’re taking it all so well this time,” he lifts his gaze to meet yours, a subtle grin playing on his lips. “such a good girl for me.” the connection between you two pulsates. he starts to build a delicious rhythm— drawing out for just a second, and pushing back in by the next. he watches you melt beneath him, your eyes sealed shut and mouth agape. a tangly string of moans tumble from your plush lips. richter’s no composer by any means, but the sounds he pulled from you is nothing short of beautiful music.

he’s without resignation tonight, and you notice his intensity when handling you. those naughty hands of his cup and squeeze and rub, his thrusts are fast, and you're sure that the resounding ‘smack!’ of skin-upon-skin can be heard from outside the window with how loud it’s become.

richter’s got your wrists bound above your head using the grip of only one firm hand, while he uses the other to keep your leg perched over his broad shoulder. his cock pushes deeper inside whenever he rolls his hips into your own, and your toes curl against the sheets with every stroke. when ramming in, his breath goes shaky at the sight of your body lurching, and pulling out makes his eyes roll back with how hard you’re clamping down on him, practically begging him to stay.

you’re soon to unravel, and you can tell he is too. his thighs begin to tremble, and his pace is less timely. nearing ecstasy, you already know what richter’s bound to ask you:

“where do you want me?”

without fail, he poses the same question by the near end of every session. and each time, you opt for the safe route, even though you secretly wish for more. your answer mostly varies on whatever position he’s got you manhandled in. bashfully, you’ll instruct him to cum over your ass if he has you bent over, or your tits if he’s been ogling them the whole night. sometimes, you’ll even let him decorate your pretty face with his seed— now that drives him mad, so much so that you always go another round or two afterwards.

but your true desire is, by far, much filthier than the rest. you’re nowhere near daring enough to plainly admit that you want his cum inside of you. as in, womb-filling placement. pregnancy-inducing, even.

though, something’s come over you tonight. you think richter’s finally ‘fucked you stupid’ the way he always cockily threatens to. or, maybe having him settled within you just feels too good to give up so soon. you don’t want him pulling out this time, you determine. what you need is for him to stay right where he is, to keep you stuffed whole with his warm love. all you want is for him to do it—

“inside,” is your breathless cry; a risky plea of the very thing he spends lone nights getting himself off to the thought of. richter isn't sure he heard you right— no, it must be a cruel figment of his perverse imagination. a bead of sweat's caught along his raised brow, those blue eyes of his carry a hooded glow, and his face, bearing a cutely furrowed look, grows pinker than before.

“what?”

“oh, god,” you whine, face gone hot. “richter, i . . .” the words melt off your tongue and fizzle into nothing.

“you . . ?” he plays around your hesitance, drawing out the word with some light goading. you sigh rather than responding, and it’s a dramatic one, because does he really have to make you repeat yourself? richter gazes down at you expectantly as he slows his movements, finding purchase on your waist to come to an unsteady pause. his fingers drum along your sides, awaiting more clarity.

your voice is small when you manage to confess, “ . . . i want you to cum inside of me.”

you think you can see the very moment that he fucking breaks. it’s like his resolve’s a porcelain vase, oh so delicate, and you’ve just pushed it to the floor and cracked it into a million tiny pieces. he releases this low groan, one that makes your pussy flutter at the sound of it. you can feel how rapidly his cock throbs from within you. you’re sure he’s about to paint them white.

“shit . . . you don’t mean that.”

“i do, rich. i want this.”

you blink up at him, pleading with glassy eyes and the very pout that makes his heart throb. god, he wants to kiss you so messily right now. and that he does— closing in to slot his lips against yours, working his tongue down your mouth, and separating with a distinct pop! you moan against richter’s lips as his clutch on your waist intensifies.

“you’ve gone ahead and finally drove me fucking crazy,” he thickly swallows, “you don’t know what you’ve just done to me, do you?” richter takes hold on both sides of your face, painless but firm. you mumble aloud what sounds like his name. he can’t be sure, as you’re muffled from the way his grasp is making your cheeks puff out.

“oh, darling, you don’t.” richter seethes, knowing how you like it when he gets a little mean, “because if you did, you’d know that spewing that kind of shit will make me fuck you like a senseless animal,” his toned body is hunched over yours, eliminating any space there once was between you, “that i’d fill up this greedy little cunt until you’re overflowing with my cum,” his octave drops, tone dangerous, “that i wouldn’t be able to stop until we’ve both passed out on this goddamn bed.”

“mmph, rich . . .” you weakly attempt, whining through your lips that he keeps pursed between his thumb and index that press into the fat of your cheeks.

“what was that, love? you wanna be stuffed with my cum?” his tone is a mocking one, but you dumbly nod anyway. he mirrors the rocking motion of your head, amused with your desperation, “fuck yeah, you do. can feel you getting wetter at the thought of it.”

you haven’t got it in you to feed into that typical banter with your boyfriend. you only want him to do just as he said and ‘fill you up.’ you're pawing at his bicep with one hand, and the other one clasps over the wrist of the hand he’s using to squish at your face. ‘want it,’ you start, fingers skimming across his arm, ‘so badly, rich!’

“fine, then. you’re such a needy thing,” he gives in, figuring you’ve endured just about enough of his teasing. richter holds himself by the base, and pulls back to trace your gaping hole with his cockhead.

“you asked for this,” he pants out, “to be fucking bred.”

just as before, his entrance is a smooth one; even if your grip on him is so taut that he can barely manage to move. you’re moaning again, aimlessly circling your hips in an attempt to match his movement.

patterns repeat themselves— like richter’s desperation that always manifests itself through harsh rutting. his mind goes blank every time he’s encompassed by your sweet, warm pussy. he aches for it, for you, as though he wasn’t just indulging. he was this close to release just minutes ago. the sensitivity is still there, you notice from how his tip pulses from within you. he’s been holding out on himself, trying to make this count.

richter dedicates the next several minutes to flipping and folding you into at least two different positions, bodies merging with a zealous haste. as always, the bed creaks and whines with every pivoted motion made upon it. nobody else is here to complain about it, so the noise is ignored rather than worried over. after all, there’s something gratifying about the sex being hard and thorough.

there’s more fervor behind his loving this time, and it’s because he’s got the end in mind. yes, the finishing is what he anticipates; once he can finally, finally pump you full of all the cum he has to offer. and maybe— no, definitely, he’ll have you knocked up after it’s done.

the prospect excites him more than it should; giving you a little bright-eyed belmont. richter’s always seen replenishing the sacred bloodline as a responsibility that only he alone holds. the very last one, he is. who else apart from him could return their clan to its original glory?

a good amount of years ago, as richter can’t bring himself to remember a particular number, his mother would present him with countless tales of their infamous family. how they’d slay monsters of the night with the utmost ease, gifted with holy tools and magic of old passed down throughout the centuries. he wouldn’t like to admit how much it’s gotten to his head; or moreso, how important he sees it to expand the family tree.

god willing, the pair of you will have babies, lots of babies, and mark the start of a new generation of vampyre slayers. it already helps that he loves to fuck you at any given chance. breeding you had always been lingering at the back of his mind, even back when the pair of you first coupled over ten months back . . . but he never really thought so deeply about it until you confessed your deep desire, and forced him to come to terms with his own.

“thinkin’ of you pregnant,” he reveals, voice honest and vulnerable, “god, what a beautiful sight. my woman, all round and full with my love . . . ”

“mm, that sounds— possessive,” you breathe out, body steadily rocking at the pace that richter’s set. you’re cracking your eyes open and sparing him a glance, just to see that he’s already staring back down at you. like you’re his everything, it seems. that twinkle in his eye is reserved for you only, and it makes you throb with want.

“oh, i’m sure it does.” he doesn’t bring himself to deny it. he wants you marked by him in every possible way. for anyone to take a glance at your rounding belly months from now and just know that he touched you thoroughly and fucked you right.

“but you should understand just how fortunate you are, baby,” he coos, “do you know how many bitches would kill for this seed you’re getting tonight? hm?” richter drones on, “you even sure you deserve it?”

he knows full well that you do. if there’s any woman on god’s green earth that he wants to give all his love to, it’s indisputably you. he’s simply rousing you up, making you ‘earn’ it. the man likes to tease, and you can’t help but enjoy being on the receiving end.

“well . . . you’re planning to give it to me, aren’t you?” even with him wrecking you, body sore and hair disarray, you're still able to check him. “i am,” he sighs, “and you’re gonna feel it all the way in here,” a large palm of his splays across your abdomen. from over your tummy, he feels the outline of his own cock, pressing in and sliding out before ramming it’s way back in again, courtesy of his rolling hips.

it spurs him on to see that he doubles you in size, so much so that his dick leaves a bulge. richter bets that he’s stretching out your cunt in the nicest way— just look at how you’re taking it with hazy eyes and quivering legs. no wonder you want his cum so badly; because who else throughout all of goddamn machecoul could give you such good orgasms? which other man could possibly fill you up with such valuable seed?

“i swear, m’gonna give you a baby,” is richter’s shaky promise, moaning throughout, and his cock throbs twice in a row. he’ll make you a carrier of the next generation of belmonts, he swears it. and oh, is he sure you’ll be an amazing mother. the thought makes his head buzz. he vividly pictures you, tender and swollen in the tummy and breasts, waddling around cutely due to carrying his very own child. he could cum just by thinking about it too hard . . .

and he does.

“oh, god, i’m gonna— oh, fuck!” his balls constrict, his pelvis becomes tightly-strung, and before he knows it, he’s emptying his thick load inside of you.

“yes, rich . . . give it to me,” you softly purr, allowing him to ease his weight onto you as he shudders from the high and his limbs go weak. from where he has his face smushed against your cushiony chest, he bites at your left breast while cumming some more. it spurts out in hot streams, accompanied by the twitching of his sensitive dick. he lazily humps against you, and a bit of semen seeps past your cunt, trickles down the length of him, and pours out onto the sheets beneath. you knew it’d be satiating to be filled to the brim.

he feels like he could fall asleep right here atop of you. even with his head’s swimming in a thick cloud of lust, and though the aftermath of his climax lingers, he’s still able to deliver slow rubs to your little bud.

“hope you’re ready for another,” he reaches down between you and swiping his graceful fingers across it, “because we aren’t fucking done yet.”

you hardly get a chance to bask in how nicely he’s loaded your womb, or the delightful tingle he brings when playing with your clit. richter, always a step ahead, uses his small bit of remaining energy to sit upwards with his back to the bedpost, and hauls you onto him so that you’re straddled over him just the way he likes. he gets the best view of your jiggling boobs this way.

“of course you still have it in you,” you lightly laugh. given his endurance, richter’s usually able to maximize his stamina through plenty of rounds. “i also wouldn’t mind being filled a second time . . .” you set your forehead to rest against his, bringing up a hand to swipe hair away from his gorgeous face eyes, “i liked it.”

“and i loved it,” he’s quick to admit, “should’ve been finishing inside you long before now.”

you smile over his comment and wiggle your ass over his semi hard-on, growing stiffer with every sway of your breasts in his face. his hands are busy holding you from either side, so you go out of your way to stroke along his cum-dirtied cock, white dripping alongside it. he groans at your touch as you help him in finding your entrance. your mouth falls open when sinking down on him, and he rushes to lick and suck at your lips. for the third time tonight, he makes himself at home in your inviting cunt.

and so, it begins again; his ceaseless tempo. your partner's grasp is hot and strong, pulling you off and slamming you back down onto him however he pleases. you cry out for more, and he’s capable of giving it to you, so he does. richter pistons up into you— out, in, out, in, molding you to shape the very curve of his veined cock. blush colored a fiery pink scatters his face from the apples of his cheeks to the tips of his ears.

“again, richter,” you gasp out, “cum inside me again . . !” oh, just look at that. now he’s built you a rotten little addiction. from here on out, you’ll probably always be left craving the fulfillment gained from him dumping his load into your pussy. personally, he doesn’t mind sating you. if it eases your mind and satisfies your heart, of course. after all, he’s surely developed a new kink of his own after tonight.

“oh, you’d want that, wouldn’t you, cockslut?” his fingers dip between your bodies to slide against your clit once more, “to let me impregnate you again, and again, and again . . .” he punctuates his sharp words with the lurch of his sturdy hips, knocking up into you until you’re jolting in his lap, breasts bouncing against his solid chest.

he doesn’t mean to come across in an offish way, or sound so mean. it’s just that when he gets like this, with your warm body so pliant at his fingertips, his mouth just tends to . . . run. more than usual, he supposes. the belmont just says whatever comes to mind, no matter how vulgar.

richter’s bright blue eyes follow the motion of your tits with every thrust. he slams in, hips pressed to you as close as it can get. he’s burrowed into you so deeply that his curly patch of dark pubes friction against your bundle of nerves. he’s twitching at the underside for every time your velvety walls suck him in further. you’re trying to milk him fucking dry, he believes.

there’s only so much stimulation that the pair of you can take in one night alone.

‘goddammit’ he grits out. before long, richter’s fucking you full of another stream of cum. his orgasm, hot and blinding, triggers your own; you’re creaming all over him, wetting his cock with the juices you squirt out. you’re sobbing out his name and shaking in his lap, so he holds you. a secure hand of his comes up and cradles your head to his chest, stroking your hair and calming your spent body, even as the orgasmic waves rush through you.

a silence comes over his quaint little room, where the ambience was once intense with the steamy air of sex. a chill autumn breeze blows its way through the cracked-open window, cooling your sweat-sheen skin. his dusty-blue sheets are stained with all kinds of suggestive white fluids, and the bed has stopped making all that noise.

you’re still placed over his thighs in the same straddling stance, one you both feel much too tired to get out of. he tries at maneuvering so he can lie on his back, with you motionlessly laid over him. your breathing is soft and winded, but your heart’s beating fast. he can feel it, with the way your chest is pressed to his own in this position.

richter eventually slips out, and you whine once he leaves you. he peers down and groans at the spillage of his potent cum, pearly and warm, dripping from your messy little cunt in thick globs. ‘christ,’ he thinks, ‘it’s so fucking much.’

he presses a kiss to your forehead, and it stirs you from the sleep you were just about to fall into. “what do you say to me, darling?”

“hmm . . what?” after all those rounds, you’re not here mentally, and he knows it— he’s why. but with the light smirk his lips hold, you’re finally able to get it. he’s waiting for a:

“t—thank you,” you murmur out, and he tsks.

“oh, c’mon, be specific. thank you for what?”

he's simply insufferable. oh, but you love the man, so you'll let him have his way, just for tonight.

“thank you for . . giving me your cum, richter . . .”

he hums in what appears to be satisfaction. it sounds like the prettiest set of words when falling from your lips. he’d fuck you again if the both of you weren’t completely spent.

richter brings a hand to support the back of his head, propping it up a little higher than the pillows can. you snuggle into him, face nuzzling against the firm comfort of his chest, and he throws his arm over your waist, feeling at the plush skin there with a wandering touch.

his palm slides a bit further down, now planted gently against your stomach. it’ll start to grow in a little while, and get real big and plump with your baby fostering inside. maybe they’ll have your nose and complexion, with his eyes and attitude . . . he lets a grin overtake his lips, feeling more than accomplished.

“you’re a lucky fucking woman,” richter coos, hand lovingly rubbing over your tummy, “you’re gonna be carryin’ belmont blood now.”

tags go out to . . . ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ @blushfwul @springmarcheson @missmagicalprincess @kaennih-skitlles @divin3bloodlines! hope y’all enjoyed, mwuah! ❤︎

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scar-crossedlvrs · 10 months

Note

All hail ID! Leon!!! I’m wondering how he would reacts when his Reader! young gf got kidnapped or been taken as hostage. Let’s just say maybe she got at the wrong place wrong time? Chris and Leon partnered up to save her 🫢 (I don’t want Leon go thru this alone, he got enough shit already tbh)

(I don’t know if you’re gonna write this up or not but whatever it is, stay safe and take care of yourself gorl 🩵)

Leon S Kennedy - Help Me

ID!Leon is my favorite Leon no questions about it. I have this headcanon that ID!Leon is the one with the most confidence in his skills & second most optimistic Leon era just due to his successes ( saving ashley and the ‘dozens of successful missions’ that shen mei references ). Anyway, watch me rip that all away in one fell swoop.

cw for : f!reader, kidnapping, swearing, blood mention, implied age gap (up to you tbh), reckless driving, chris redfield, it’s mostly just a mess of angst and anger.

gentle reminder that all of my works sfw or not are intended for 18+ audiences.

The inbox is open for requests.

How many times had he told you to lock the goddamned doors?

Fingers drum against the steering wheel as he weaves in and out of traffic. His phone trilled in his ear as he drove and the longer it rang, the more his gut bubbled with anxiety.

“Pick up the fucking phone Redfield.”

The scene was still vivid in his mind. Your front door slightly ajar as he pulled up to your house. Leon had immediately been put on edge by this. The overwhelming feeling of panic however, didn’t set in until he noticed the bright red smear across the white painted wood.

Inside the house wasn’t much better, turned over from top to bottom. Every single one of your meticulously placed photos and knickknacks were strewn smashed on the floor, broken glass, plastic and porcelain everywhere. All decorated with a spattering of red. The same scene played out in each and every one of the rooms. It didn't seem to be a run of the mill robbery though. Nothing of value was missing, nothing besides you.

The worst part was the way your phone went to voicemail every single time he called.

“Hello?”

Leon’s torn from his thoughts at the sound of the voice on the other end of the phone. Chris Redfield.

“Answer the phone any slower?” he’s snappy, frustrated, scared.

It must have been obvious, with the way the concern laced into Chris’s words. “Leon? Is something wrong?”

“She’s gone, Chris. The house is a mess and her phone just goes straight to voicemail. Someone was there, and I think they took her.”

The word vomit just spews from his lips as he switches lanes again, white-knuckling the steering wheel as icy eyes dart around. He’s not sure where he’s going, what he’s looking for. He’s not sure of anything anymore.

Had he gotten too cocky, too lax in his security? Everything had been going so well since Ashley. He had been saving people. What the fuck went wrong? Fuck, he should have pressed the issue harder when he asked you to move in with him. At least there he could have kept a better eye on you, kept you safe. This wouldn’t have happened.

Leon was spiraling.

“Are you still with me, Kennedy?” Chris’s voice broke through the haze again.

"Yeah." Barely.

"You sure she was at home? She's probably just not answering your calls."

Chris didn't know you, didn't know that you didn't just ignore phone calls, especially not his calls. You weren't just ignoring him.

"I wouldn't have called you if I thought she was just ignoring my calls. The place was torn up Redfield. Whoever it was, was looking for something. There was blood fucking everywhere." His words came out more aggressive than intended.

They had to, he needed to get his point across.

“Okay, yeah that’s bad. But I can’t just get clearance to do anything..”

“I’m not asking you to deploy the BSAA. I’m asking you to help me” Leon cut him off.

The silence that hangs makes him regret calling Chris. Had he made a call to the wrong Redfield? He should have just called Claire. She wouldn’t have hesitated so much, wouldn’t have wasted so much time. That was if she even picked up the phone.

Either way, for once, he couldn’t do this on his own. Not like this.

"Go home. I'll meet you there. We'll figure this out okay? Don't do anything stupid Leon."

"Yeah."

---

Your head is aching, forehead damp with sweat or blood ( you're not sure which ), feet sore and bloodied from stumbling through the shattered glass on your living room floor. Eyes are covered with a thick blindfold, and the room is dark and quiet.

All alone with your thoughts. Thoughts of how you ended up here. How you had been so distracted, unable to notice the men coming in through the unlocked front door. One snatching you up as the other set out to look for something, smashing everything in his path. Your screams fell on deaf ears, feet being dragged through the mess on the floor as you struggled to break free.

Until a sharp pain to the back of the head forced you into unconsciousness.

There's the sound of shuffling, metal clinking, and there's something pressed to your ear. A phone? There's a few moments of trilling rings before a voice answers with a panicked "Hello?"

"Leon?"

Your voice is hoarse from the screaming earlier, and tears sting at your eyes.

"Baby where are you?" You've never heard him sound like this, scared.

"I don't know, Lee. Help me. I don't know where I am. It's dark and I'm scared."

Before he can respond, the phone is pulled from your ear. The scream ripped from your throat as his voice was cut off by the phone being hung up. A sharp laugh caused a shiver to course through you as you struggled against your bindings.

"Think that got his attention, hm princess?"

________________________________________________

uh i don't know where I was going to go with this, meaning cliffhanger!!! one person says they want more & i'll plan out more <3

#leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy fic #leon kennedy angst #tea writes things

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heavenlyhischier · 10 months

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐲 𝐈 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥 | 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬

word count: 5.9k

warnings: idk some angst, misunderstanding, swearing, drinking, kissing

note: im not like super happy with this but oh well! this is my first time writing for the nhl so dont judge toooooo harshly lol. request more if you'd like!

The sun filtered through the cracks in the curtains, gently stirring you from your peaceful dream, eliciting a quiet groan as you were quite enjoying said dream. You dragged the blanket over your head in an attempt to go back to sleep, but that proved worthless as you heard Jack shout your name from down the hall. You could hear his footsteps nearing your room, and you tightened the grip you had on the blanket so that he wasn’t able to rip it off as easily. You just wanted to stay in bed a little longer and then maybe you would get up.

“C’mon, sunshine. Time to get up,” He laughed as he managed to pull the blanket off your body. The way you were curled up in a ball as you tried to shield yourself from the sunlight made his heart swell, but it was a sensation he was used to when it came to you.

For the last six years of his life, you had been present for anything major in his life. Sometimes it was over facetime, but you had still always made time for him and he made time for you. When you had finished college a year early and worked yourself into multiple panic attacks a day because you were scared about what you were going to do from there, it was Jack who suggested you move to Jersey with him. It was Jack who helped you get on your feet and start your career.

In turn, he got to have you there with him. You were there at every home game, smile wide and eyes bright as you cheered him and his team on. You were there to comfort him when he felt like he had let everyone down because had an off game. Nails scratching his scalp as you let him rant about how he felt like he was under too much pressure. He was there for you, too. He was there when you felt like a failure and nothing was going in the right direction. More importantly, you were both there for each other when everything did go right, and that was when Jack felt himself start to fall in love with his best friend.

“Go away,” You whined, “It’s too early to be awake.”

Jack gently grabbed your arms that were covering your face and pulled them down so he could see you. Your eyes were squeezed shut and your nose was scrunched, refusing to welcome the daylight without a fight. “It’s nearly 11:30. Luke and I are already back from morning skate,” He teased, thumbs softly tracing circles on your arms.

You peeked at him through your barely open eyes, meeting his own as he waited for you to get out of bed. You were never able to resist his pleading eyes and childlike pout, and it was quite pathetic just how easy you caved when it came to the boy in front of you. All he needed to do was breathe around you and you would do whatever he asked, but of course he didn’t know that. That was a secret you intended to keep in order to maintain the best friendship you’ve ever had.

“I hate you,” You grumbled, ignoring the way his touch lit your skin on fire. The action wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but it made you silently yearn for more all the same.

“No you don’t. Now let’s go or I’ll go get Trevor and we’ll drag you out of bed.”

You let Jack pull you out of your very comfortable bed, and followed him down the hall to the kitchen where Trevor and Luke were bickering over Lord knows what. You sleepily sulked behind your best friend, wanting nothing more than to turn around and go back to bed. The boys had kept you up until nearly four in the morning catching up, and arguing about whose hockey team was the better of the two.

“Y/N,” Trevor’s smile beamed once he took notice of your presence. He left his dispute with Luke and wrapped his arms around you in a hug that nearly crushed you.

“Trevor, you literally saw me last night,” You feigned annoyance as you wrapped your arms around his neck to return his affection.

Luke watched as his brother’s body tensed; jaw clenching, fists briefly balling into fists, and eyes narrowing in on his two best friends. The nineteen year old rolled his eyes at his brother's obvious, and unearned, jealousy. He lightly slapped Jack on the shoulder, breaking his attention away from the two of you, and raised his eyebrows as he silently asked what was up. Jack rolled his eyes at his younger brother before turning to find something to eat for you.

Trevor knew what he was doing, but he wasn’t doing it because he was trying to be mean. He was trying to motivate Jack to get his head out of his ass and finally admit that he had feelings for you. Making him jealous probably wasn’t the best idea, but none of his other ideas had worked. His encouraging talks had only frustrated Jack, so he was taking a different approach for his short visit in New Jersey.

“Thank you, J,” You smiled up at Jack as he placed the bowl of cereal on the dining room table you had to beg the boys to get. Jack knew that, even though it was nearing lunch time, you had just woken up and you were going to want breakfast.

“You guys are too cute,” Trevor couldn’t help but tease, falling into the chair on the opposite side of the table, “You need to put us all out of your misery and just date each other.”

“Seriously, Trev? How many times do I need to tell you that we’re just friends and that’s all we will be,” Jack clipped, giving his friend a warning glare as he walked back into the kitchen.

Despite knowing that Jack only ever thought of you as his best friend, the way he said that made your face fall and your chest tighten. You kept your eyes trained on the table in front of you as you blinked back the tears that threatened to spill over. Trevor glanced between Jack and you, eyes filled with worry and guilt once he noticed the way you refused to look up and how red your cheeks were.

“So,” Luke started, trying to diffuse the obvious tension, “You coming to the game, Trev? I know Y/N is because she wants to see Barzal.” Luke also knew what he was doing, and he was doing it to be mean.

Trevor let out a laugh as you defended, “Excuse me, I go to all of your home games! Being able to see Mat Barzal is just a bonus.”

The sound of a cabinet aggressively slamming shut made all three of your heads turn to the kitchen where Jack stood with his back turned to everyone. He mumbled an irritated apology before he finally decided to take the seat next to you. Luckily, Luke’s change in topic was enough to stop yourself from crying, but Jack mistook your reddened cheeks for a blush that was elicited by the mention of the Isles center.

“As long as you’re wearing a Devil’s jersey, look at whoever you want.”

“Why wouldn’t she wear a Devils jersey,” Jack spoke, voice laced with a hint of panic at the thought of you wearing the other team's jersey.

“Because she’s in love with Barzal. C’mon Jack, keep up.”

“Okay, first of all, she is right here and she is not in love with Mat Barzal, he’s just very nice to look at,” You gave the two boys across from you a pointed look before passing a soft glance at Jack, “And I’m wearing a Devils jersey like I do every game.”

The conversation fell back to a less awkward strained topic and the uneasiness between you and Jack faded until it was normal again. The boys still have a few hours left before they have to head back to The Rock for the game, so you all opted to hang out and watch TV before then so they could relax. You were pressed into Jack’s side, his arm slung around the back of the couch as they talked.

It was the small moments like this that made you feel like Jack liking you back was possible. The way that he would pull you back close to him if you scooted even an inch away from him. The way that he would subconsciously trace patterns on your skin because he had to keep himself occupied in some sort of way. It made you feel hopeful, but you were quick to bring yourself back to the heart shattering reality that it meant nothing to him.

To Jack, though, these moments were everything.

“Y/N,” Jack’s voice was soft as he knocked on your door, “Can I come in?”

“Of course,” You called out, filtering through your clothes to find something to wear tonight.

Jack was anxious; his heart beating out of his chest and hands slightly shaking as he walked into your room with a piece of fabric in his grasp. He had a jersey with his own name and number on the back , and he was going to ask you if you would wear it tonight. He wanted something that labeled you as his even if you weren’t. Yet.

“What’s up,” You turned to face him, eyes briefly darting down to the jersey in his hand.

“I know you wear just a plain jersey to the games because you don’t want me or Luke to feel left out, but do you maybe want to wear my jersey tonight? It’s totally okay if you don’t want to! Actually, you know what- forget I asked. It was stupid,” Jack rushed out, panic clearly written everywhere on his body as he started to rush away.

“Jack,” You grabbed his hand before he could run away, “I would love to wear your jersey.” You’re not quite sure what exactly possessed Jack to give you one of his jerseys, but you were absolutely not going to say no. To you, the gesture meant everything. A step in the right direction.

Jack searched your face for any sort of doubt, but all he saw was the same small smile and sparkling eyes he saw every time he looked at you. Every part of him wanted nothing more than to kiss you and tell you that he was yours and you were his. Not Mat Barzal’s.

Painfully aware of how close the two of you were, butterflies swarmed your stomach. The way he was looking at you made your heart soar into the clouds and hope filled your veins as you let yourself drift to the possibility that maybe he did feel the same way you had for the last few years.

“You better get going. Don’t want you to be late,” You whispered, suddenly feeling sheepish because you swear you saw his eyes glance at your lips for a few seconds.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I’ll see you at the game.” With a chaste kiss on the cheek, he was out the door, leaving you there to overthink the entire interaction.

You and Trevor had found your seats, and it was just the two of you since Ellen and Jim were at Quinn’s game. You watch as the team warms up, and, no matter how hard you tried not to, you found yourself mainly focusing on Jack. The way he glides across the ice never fails to amaze you. He belongs out there.

“Nice jersey,” Trevor commented, eyes staying trained on the ice with a sly smirk on his face.

“Shut up,” You rolled your eyes, “He asked me if I wanted to wear it so I said yes, but I’m not sure why- Oh my god, look! It’s Mat!” You gripped Trevor’s bicep as you squealed and subtly pointed at the man who just stepped out onto the ice.

“That’s why,” He shook his head, “Your comment about how sexy Barzy is made him all jealous and moody.”

“Oh, whatever. He doesn’t care about that,” You dismissed as you broke away from the teams to look at Trevor.

“Is that why he’s looking at him like he wants to slam him into the boards before the game even starts,” He nodded his head towards Jack.

Jack had looked in your direction as soon as he heard the Isles come out, and he wished that he hadn’t. The way your face lit up as you pointed at Barzal made his skin crawl and his chest burn with jealousy. He was standing off to the side with Nico as he tried to go over some of their game plans, but his eyes were now focused on number 13 on the opposing team. He tried to not let his personal life interfere with what he did on the ice, but he’s not so sure that was possible tonight.

The first period was aggressive, to say the least. The Devils were down by one and Jack spent his fair share of time in the sin bin for boarding a certain Isles player. Luckily, all of his penalties were minors so he was still able to play in the game, but you’re not so sure the refs would keep letting him off if he continued the stunts he was pulling.

“Trevor,” Your voice was laced with anxiety as Luke pulled Jack away before he initiated an actual fight and got another penalty. You know hockey is an aggressive sport, but you’ve never seen Jack play like this.

“It’s okay. It’s not all his fault,” He tried to comfort you as your grip on his hand tightened, “They’re starting to play just as dirty. Hopefully intermission will calm everyone down.”

You nervously bit at your nails and lip throughout the rest of the game. Both teams were still being unnecessarily hostile, but it wasn’t as bad as the first period. In the end, Jack managed to get the winning shot, and the cheers that erupted shook The Rock. You threw your arms around Trevor's neck as you let out a breath of relief; thankful that the agonizingly long game ended in their favor.

You and Trevor waited for both Hughes boys, talking about what exactly the plan was going to be tonight. He, of course, wanted to go out and celebrate their win, but you weren’t entirely sure if the boys would still be up for it after the game that they had. Players startled to slowly trickle out of the locker room; most of them stopping to talk to Trevor before they went on their way.

You were engrossed in a conversation with Dawson and Trevor when Luke finally came out of the locker room. He makes a playful glance at your jersey, wiggling his eyebrows as you ignore him and ask him about how he feels like the game went. He goes on about how he wasn’t super proud of their performance due to the obvious, but he was happy that they came out on top despite that. You beamed about how proud you are of him, and then you saw Jack coming out of the locker room.

His damp hair stuck to his forehead and you could see the faint start of a nasty bruise on his left cheek. He looked defeated and annoyed, and that was enough to tell you that he got an earful from Lindy and the media asked the wrong questions. He hated talking to them in general, and he especially hated it when he played like he did. You wanted nothing more than to pull him in and comfort him like you used to often, before Luke moved in.

With an encouraging shove from Luke, you met Jack in the middle and immediately pulled him into your chest. He was quick to wrap his arms around your waist, drawing you in closer than you already were. He buried his head in the crook of your neck, wanting the moment to last forever if it was possible. You didn’t mind the wetness on your skin, but the way Jack was hugging you was not making anything easy for you. He held you like you were the only thing grounding him to Earth.

“You played like shit,” You quietly teased as you forced yourself to pull away from him before you read too much into it.

“Maybe, but we still beat ‘em. Guess Barzal isn’t that great after all,” He slightly puffed his chest out before wrapping an arm around your shoulder and walking to the others.

You furrowed your eyebrows at his last comment, and it made you wonder if you saying that you found Mat Barzal attractive really did upset him. After the way he played towards him, it would make perfect sense. Still, you can’t piece together just why that would bother him enough to make him let it out on the ice like that. You weren’t naive enough to believe that it meant that Jack was jealous because he had feelings for you. You’re positive that it was something else. It had to be.

After everyone had agreed on a bar to meet up at, they all went separate ways to go back home and quickly change. You and the boys knew you were going to go out already, so you were all dressed and ready to go. Once you were in the car, you peeled the Devil’s jersey off you to reveal the red tank top underneath.

“Damn girl,” Trevor whistled, eyes shamelessly darting down to your exposed cleavage.

You playfully smacked him in the chest and rolled your eyes, neatly folding the jersey and placing it in the middle seat of the car. Jack cast a stormy glare back at Trevor, who shrugged and gave his best friend an innocent smile.

“Bye, Lukey,” You leaned over the center console to kiss his cheek, “Next year you can join us and not have to be the driver.”

“Yeah, yeah,” He rolled his eyes, “Give’s me time to sleep without you all bothering me. Have fun and call me if you need me to come get you.”

The three of you pushed your way into the loud and crowded bar. Jack quickly announced that he was going to hit the bathroom and he would meet the two of you at the bar. You gently held the back of Trevor’s shirt as he led you through the horde of people. You got the bartender's attention and ordered a round of shots for the three of you, but when you had turned back to Trevor, he was already engaged in a flirty conversation with a pretty blonde girl.

Letting out a quiet chuckle, you moved your attention back to the bar. You waited a few more minutes for Jack to come back, but he had yet to make his reappearance. Deciding you were going to see if you could spot him, you placed your hands on the sticky counter, feet planting themselves on the footrest of the barstool to stand and look around the bar. Your eyes bounced across the sea of people in search of Jack, but when your eyes landed on him you felt the entire floor come out from underneath you.

There he was; leaning against a wall with his stupid bright, perfect smile plastered on his face as a girl animatedly talked to him. Every breath you took as you watched them felt like razor blades slicing into every inch of your body and your heart ached like it never had before. Blinking back a wave of tears, you downed the three shots in front of you. They were slightly warm, but the burning sensation they brought to you was a feeling you welcomed with open arms.

“Woah there, Y/N,” Nico’s deep, slightly accented voice cut through the loud music.

“Nico,” You cheered, pulling him into your side for a hug, “You did so good tonight.”

“Thank you,” He lightly laughed, hand staying on your back to steady you as you teetered on the stool, “Your boy was playing a little dirty tonight.”

Nico didn’t miss the way you stiffened at the mention of Jack, and he pulled his brows together in confusion. He had seen the two of you in an intimate hug right before he had left, so he assumed that things had developed between the two of you. While you ordered another two shots, the captain looked around for his teammate. He let out an understanding breath once he found him, still in deep conversation with the girl you had seen.

“Y/N,” Nico tried, “Are you o-”

“I’m going to dance,” You interrupted before he could ask the one question that was certainly going to bring you to tears.

Nico sighed, but he had been around you enough to know that you were not the type of person to push. That was a recipe for disaster. Instead, he opted to keep a close eye on you in case something were to happen.

You lost count of how many drinks you had at about five drinks, but you’re certain that you were past your limit. Sweat covered bodies bumped into your own as you danced to the loud music, ignoring the bleeding pain in your chest. You refused to look in Jack’s direction for the rest of the night, fearful that what you saw was going to further break you.

Eventually, you got tired of everyone bumping into you as you danced, so you climbed up onto a table that was littered with half full glasses and empty beer cans. You closed your eyes and let the music guide your body, hips swaying and hands salaciously running the curves of your body.

“Y/N,” A familiar voice yelled over the music, their hand coming to grasp your calf, “Get your drunk ass down!”

You looked down and met Trevor’s worried gaze, though he was quite a bit blurry courtesy of the copious amounts of alcohol you had consumed. Shaking your head at him, you continued dancing and ignored his continuous calls for you to come down from the table. It wasn’t until you heard the one person you were trying to forget that you stopped your movements.

The way Jack was looking up at you with anxiety swirling in his eyes made you want to scream. He had no right to be concerned about when he was the cause of it. Though, he had no idea that he was.

“Y/N,” Jack repeated, taking note of the drunken glare you gave him, “Please come down.”

You tore your glossy eyes away from him, and held your hand out to Trevor so he could help you down from the table. Jack felt his heart crack at your blatant dismissal of him, but he tried to not let it get to him because he knew you were drunk. Still, he hated how you latched onto Trevors side, leaning your head on his chest as he steadied you. He was always the one you clung too, and he doesn’t like the way it feels to be on the outside of that.

“We should call Luke, yeah,” Trevor suggested as he soothingly rubbed your arm, “You need to get home.”

“I can call him and we can go back together,” Jack was quick to offer himself up.

“No,” You moaned out, shaking your head against Trevor’s chest, “I don’t wanna be around you.”

Jack’s already cracked heart completely shattered inside his chest, the sting from it bleeding into his veins. The despondent look that was slapped on his face would have been enough to send you to your knees had you been looking at him, but you knew better than that. You knew that you would cave in to Jack like you always did, but that’s not what you needed. It was clear that you were never going to have him the way you wanted, and you needed to forget him. Even if it was just for a night.

“Jack,” Trevor sighed, his own chest burning for his best friend, “I texted Luke before I came to get her and he should be here soon. I’ll make sure she gets to him, okay?”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, all Jack could manage was a nod and move out of the way so Trevor could guide you out of the bar. His entire heart left with you, and he was left staring at the floor wondering what had happened for you to not want to be around him. In order to keep himself from crying in front of his teammates, he made a beeline for the bar to get drinks of his own.

The first thing you felt the following morning was the deadly pounding in your head, and you prayed to any God that would listen that you could just go back to sleep for the rest of your life. Your head was shoved underneath your pillow as you attempted to push back the consistent waves of nausea, but the feeling grew. Before you could truly comprehend what was going on, you were on your feet and darting to the bathroom.

“Y/N,” Trevor called from the other side of the bathroom door, “I’m coming in.”

You tossed him a bleary look as he walked in with a cup of water in hand. The pitiful smile he gave you in return surely would have made you vomit again had you not already emptied all the contents of your stomach. You could see the apprehension clearly arranged on his face.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” You mumbled against your arm that was acting as a barrier between your face and the toilet.

“I didn’t even say anything,” He let out an airy laugh as he searched through the cabinets for some Advil, “Since you brought it up, though...”

“Trevor,” You warned, trying to give him a mean glare, but it hurt your head too much to strain that hard.

Despite how much you drank last night, you were still excruciatingly aware of what had caused you to get that way. The feeling that consumed your entire being when you saw Jack with that girl was still something that was eating away at your heart. You knew that your emotions were going to get the better of you one day, but nothing could have prepared you for when it did.

“Take these,” He ordered, “What happened last night? I’ve never seen you like that, especially not towards Jack. I don’t care that you don’t want to talk about it. If you don’t, you’ll let it take over and you’ll fall into the same hole you did when Trent broke up with you.”

You knew that he was right, but it still annoyed you that Trevor Zegras, of all people, was right. You also knew that he was going to see through any lie you told him. In spite of his reputation, he was a very observant and caring person, especially when it cameto the ones he loved.

“I saw Jack with some girl last night. That’s all there is to say, really. You know how I feel about him, so it just really sucked. And I guess I let myself read too much into certain situations,” You admitted, taking the pills in hopes that they would help the headache subside.

He sharply sucked in a breath, understanding washing over his body like a wave. He knew the girl you were talking about; Jack had mentioned something about him being ambushed by the bathrooms. She was going on about how her girlfriend was one of his biggest fans, and then Jack had somehow, yet unsurprisingly, managed to bring you up in the conversation. He had told Trevor that the girl made fun of Jack for being a little bitch and not telling you how he feels, which Trevor happily agreed with.

“Y/N,” He sighed, squatting so he was eye level with you, “You need to go talk to him, and don’t say no. It will be better, for both of you, if you talk to each other. Watching the both of you pine over each other is really grinding my gears.”

After a not so lengthy argument with Trevor, partly because he just kept repeating himself and partly because you were too tired to argue, your feet were gently padding down the hall to Jack’s room. Your breathing was quick and uneven as you anxiously squeezed your hands together, moreso the closer you got to him. Taking a deep breath, you gently rapped your knuckles on his door.

“Go away, Trevor,” His voice was muffled, quiet, and defeated.

“Jack,” You softly called as you opened your door and peeked your head in.

“Y/N,” You watched as he jumped up in his bed, pillow falling off the bed and blanket pooling around his waist, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I just- Can I come in?”

He eagerly nodded his head, scooting back so he was leaning against the headboard. Trying to keep your eyes from wandering his naked chest was proving difficult the closer you got to him. It felt highly inappropriate given the circumstances. The air was awkward and sticky as you took a seat on the edge of his bed, and you hated that. Things should never be like this with Jack.

Jack knew you so well and he had spent so much time memorizing everything about you that it wasn’t hard to tell that you were nervous, and exhausted. Your lip was red from chewing on it and the skin below your hand was irritated from you pinching yourself, both nervous habits you’ve had as long as he’s known you. However, you also had dark, stormy clouds of exhaustion hanging over you. He wanted nothing more than to pull you into his bed and hold you until you fell asleep.

“How are you feeling,” He asked, eyes flitting from your face to his lap.

“Honestly, I feel like I got hit by a bus,” You laughed, feeling some of the nerves dissipate, “But, I wanted to talk about something. Well, Trevor’s forcing me to do it, but I also think we should talk about it.”

Jack’s already high anxiety skyrocketed. He has no idea what you were going to say, and that terrified him. His mind wandered to the worst possibilities, all of which involved you telling him that you were leaving and never wanted to see him again. He’s not sure he would be able to survive that blow.

“What’s up,” He played it cool as if his heart wasn’t beating so hard and fast that he thought it was going to burst out of his chest.

“I want you to listen to me entirely before you say anything okay,” You started, tucking a leg underneath your thigh as you turned to fully face him. You continued after he gave you a shy nod, “I’m really sorry about last night. About telling you I didn’t want to be around you. I was upset, and hurt. I was waiting for you at the bar and you were taking a while, so I tried to look for you.

“And I saw you talking to a girl by the bathrooms, and I guess I got a little jealous. I got jealous because I- I don’t know, it’s kind of obvious why, Jack. I let my emotions get to me and I reacted terribly, I’m sorry. And it’s okay that you don’t feel the same way that I feel. Just promise me it won’t change our friendship?”

His heart, still beating erratically, was doing flips inside his chest as he let your words fully soak in. Jack knew he wasn’t a Harvard scholar, but it didn’t take much to figure out you were saying you had feelings for him without actually saying it. All those hours of Trevor trying to convince Jack that you liked him back flooded his memory, and he felt stupid for not believing him. Now Trevor was kind of an airhead, but if something was that obvious to him, Jack should have known it was true.

The silence that hung in the air was daunting, but you were giving him time to think about what you had said to him. Springing a half-assed love confession on someone who looked just as hungover as you were probably wasn’t the best idea, but it was Trevor’s so it made sense. You refused to make eye contact with Jack as he, presumably, found a way to gently let you down. You decided to focus on picking at your fingers while you waited, a habit you thought you had broken

“I was jealous too, you know,” He started, moving his body so he was sitting in the same position as you. He delicately took your hands in his own before you picked so hard you drew blood.

“Of what,” You frowned.

“The whole Barzal thing. You said you thought he was hot, and I guess I got a little insecure because he is an attractive guy,” He explained, his voice laced with apprehension, “Trevor and Luke kept talking about how you’re in love with him or whatever, and then I saw how excited you got when he got on the ice and I don’t know. It really bothered me.

“And the girl at the bar? We were only talking because she said her girlfriend was a big fan, and then I started talking about you, like I always do. She basically told me I was a pussy for not telling you how I felt, and she’s right.”

You snapped your gaze to meet his own, and you knew you were royally screwed. He was looking at you like you hung the stars and the moon, and it was in that moment you realize that he’s looked at you like that for a while. You were just too naive, and scared, to let yourself believe it was anything other than friendship.

“I love you, Y/N, and not in just a friend way but an “I-want-you-to-be-my-girlfriend” way. And I really want to kiss you.”

“So do it.”

In an instant, he was pulling you into him, his soft lips meeting your own in a messy kiss. You moved your hands to the nape of his neck, fingers carding into his hair as he pulled you onto his lap. His hands found place on your lower back, scared to wander any further out of fear of making you uncomfortable, but you had waited far too long for this moment for him to not explore whatever he wanted. However, the sound of Jack’s door opening caused the two of you to separate your mouths.

“Are you two going to come ea- Oh my god! They’re having sex,” Trevor screamed, quickly turning around and slamming the door shut, “Luke! Don’t go in there!”

Jack’s forehead fell to your shoulder as he let out an amused, “Fucking Trevor.” (iykyk lmao)

“You know, I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but we actually owe him,” You let out a breathy laugh.

“Yes you do!”

“Go away!”

#jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #nhl #nhl imagine #trevor zegras #luke hughes

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touchlikethesun · 3 months

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okay okay okay, but we need to talk about the name etymologies of the four central characters of haikyuu!! because it is literally impossible to talk about it too much. first let's break down all the kanji in their family names!

(sidenote: all of the translations were pulled from wikitionary, so if any of the meanings are actually egregiously incorrect, pls lmk!!)

影　kage - shadow 山　yama - mountain 口　guchi - mouth 月　tsuki - moon 島 shima - island 日　hi - sun 向　nata - direction

adding a readmore because this got so much longer than i intended it to be

so some of these are talked more about in the fandom than others. i think it's practically common knowledge (if it isn't, well now you know) that the first kanji of hinata's name (日) means "sun" and the first kanji of tsukki's name (月) means "moon," and that this was done on purpose to highlight their roles in the story as foils and as a sun and moon analogy. tsukki and hinata are quite literally polar opposites in their approach to volleyball (they are, one might say, like night and day). tsukishima with his physical advantage yet reluctance to try too hard compared with hinata's overwhelming physical disadvantage and his willingness to go above and beyond, to the point that he can't even fathom how not to give 110% at all times. (there's so much more to say about this symbolism but i'll leave it there, gotta stay focused rip).

the first kanji in kageyama's name (影) meaning "shadow" i feel like most people are aware of as well, this symbolises his general mood (sorta a comparison with tsukishima too imo, darkness and the moon etc., but that's quite subtle), and again this furthers his parallel with hinata, juxtaposing light and darkness, but the kanji for yama (山) which we find in both kageyama and yamaguchi's name, means mountain, which represents both reliability and strength. this works for both kageyama and yamaguchi in different ways. from day one at karasuno, all of the team members can count on kageyama to perform, be it setting, serving, receiving, he is all around the uncontested best player on the team, and serves as the base for nearly all of their strategies. yamaguchi doesn't have the same dependability in terms of athletic performance (at the start of the series), but in a lot of ways he is a grounding force in among the first years, and in his relationship with tsukki he is very much a needed support, tsukishima depends on yamaguchi for... god for so much actually.

and then there's the second kanji in tsukishima's name (島)... meaning "island," it is very clearly meant to represent the isolation tsukki both feels and imposes on himself at the start of the series. i also think it's of note that an island is opposed to a mountain - both are large(-ish) landmasses but the mountain is connected to the rest of the land while an island is all alone...

the individual kanji all have a lot of symbolism going on but when you put some of them together, i think you get a new significance...

日向　hinata - the direction sun in shining 影山　kageyama - the dark side of the mountain 山口　yamaguchi - the mountain’s opening (or mouth maybe cave?) 月島　tsukishima - moon island

to get them out of the way, the compound meanings of tsukishima and yamaguchi don't seem very narratively significant, but i am more than open to analyses you might have that i didn't think of! :)

however hinata and kageyama seem poetic to me in a way that i don't think is accidental. i did take some liberties with the phrasing (kageyama could also be written as "the mountain's shadow"), but it doesn't change the overwhelming symbolism. the dark side of the mountain is obviously juxtaposed with the light side, but how do you create a shadow? well the sun has to shine on something... the direction of hinata's sun shining on the kageyama's mountain making the shadow... i admit i might be reaching with this one. but i like it.

initially, i had only planned to look into their family names, but after finding so much symbolism, i though why not look into their given names and boy oh boy am i glad that i did~

飛　tobi - flight, fast, high 雄　o - something large powerful and masculine (yang) 翔　sho - soar 陽　yo - alt. the sun, positive, (yang!!!!) 蛍　kei - derived from firefly 忠　tadashi - loyal, devoted, faithful

where do i even begin i legit have tears in my eyes okay, first things first, kei has always been my favourite name in all of haikyuu, i just like how it sounds, i think it's so pretty, and in looking up the meaning of the kanji i've grown to love it even more. as a masculine name, 蛍 is pretty rare, it's more commonly used for female names and the most common reading isn't kei it's hotaru. i like that tsukishima has a relatively unique first name, but what really gets me is the etymology. the kanji 蛍 is the same kanji for firefly, and when the kei pronunciation is used, it means fluorescent. i absolutely love this for tsukishima, because we are being given two different messages with his family name and his given name. on the one hand, his family name would have us believe that tsukki is like the moon, only able to be seen at night and only capable of reflecting the lights of others, but his given name tells us that, while it might be a soft glow, tsukki does have a light of his own, he is in fact able to shine by himself.

compared to 蛍, 忠 is a much more common given name, meaning loyal or devoted. i think sometimes people misunderstand the dynamics between tsukishima and yamaguchi, so please don't take this as me saying something i'm not, but tadashi really is loyal to kei in a very special way, and this is clearly something that furudate wanted to highlight, as this is not the only time he's made reference or used symbolism for tadashi's loyalty to kei. i do think that this devotion extends past tsukki too, and tadashi's loyalty is another part of what makes him such an important part of karasuno (and eventual team captain).

now. for the big ones. i really hope people are still reading because i saved the best for last just because i know i'll collapse into a puddle of tears once i finish typing this section out

if you look at tobio and shouyou's names individually, they do fit them very well; 飛 (tobi) being the kanji for flight ties kags to the sport of volleyball, and the alt meaning of height i think references how high he is going to aim for and eventually reach, and 雄 (o) symbolising something powerful and masculine i think does fit kags' vibe. likewise, 翔 (sho) forshadows hinata's jumping abilities and his bird-like nature, and 陽 (yo), a kanji that has sooo many potential meanings, among which are sun and positivity, further underscores hinata's sun symbolism and his optimistic outlook. astute readers might have already noticed, the first kanji of tobio's name (飛) and the first kanji of shouyou's name (翔) have very similar meanings, one might even go as far to say that they are synonyms. both kags and hinata learn to fly at karasuno together, and they both aspire to the same upwards trajectory, literally in the game for hinata, and figuratively in their careers as pro volleyball players, and this similarity is underscored by the similarity in the meanings of the first kanji of their given name. but the kicker, the last kanji of their given names, 雄 (o) and 陽 (yo) not only sound similar, but they both are kanji that can be used to write yang as is yang, the opposite of yin! shouyou and tobio's names are literally synonyms of one another!! for all the differences apparent in their family names, their given names are literally the same name just a different font and i absolutely love it so much, because we spend so much time talking about how different hinata and kageyama are but part of the reason that they click and clash the way that they do is that they are so similar to one another in ways that they aren't like anyone else, it's what makes their rivalry and their partnership as strong as they are and it's so so so important to remember that these boys are always on the same wavelength!! clearly we're meant to think like this, since furudate chose these as their names...

one last little note, it might be hard to tell if (like me) you aren't used to reading caligraphy, but the same kanji in tobio's name is the kanji on karasuno's banner: 飛

so just in case there was any doubt as to where tobio belongs. his name is literally on karasuno's banner i can't i can't i can't

#thank you for coming to my ted talk #crying uncontrollably at all the symbolism i love this series so fucking much #haikyuu #hinata shouyou #kageyama tobio #tsukishima kei #yamaguchi tadashi #kagehina #tsukkiyama

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hopeluna-archived · 2 years

Note

Oh thank youu so much ^^

My request:

May i request the demon bro's (+side charac except luke) reacting to them walking on reader changing

If you don't feel comfortoble with that heres an another one!^^

Second request:

A Reader who is can turn into a Sheep, How would the demon brothers react?

(+side characters)

(I did this at 3:16 AM lol)

Obey Me! Characters reacting to them walking on MC changing

Obey Me! Brothers x GN!reader

Warnings: my bad grammar, suggestive, I'm sleep deprived don't judge me

Genre: crack

A/N: I'm gonna post the side characters in another post and I might do the second request, not really sure yet but yeah this turned out way longer that I thought it would but Enjoy!!

The side characters

M.list

Lucifer

The brothers were once again on his last fucking nerve

Lets be honest, when are they not? But today was just a particualrly annoying day for the demon

What better way to de-stress than spending some time with his favourite human?

Rip MC's legs

Anyway, he's making his way to your room, mumbling under his breath about how he is gonna wring Mammon's neck.

He always knocks. He's proper. But this time it kinda slipped his mind and he just walked right in

Didn't even notice you were changing at first

So you're just standing there half naked like wha-

The moment he looks up at you, realizes you're naked, he closes that door so fast

Cause no, he can't have you seeing him flustered, his pride won't let him

After a few moments, cue slow opening door

This time Lucifer comes in with that smirk

"MC might I suggest locking the door from now on? Wouldn't want anyone else seeing you like this, would you now darling?"

Once again rip, i'll pray for you

Mammon

Now, he never knocks...like ever.

Why should he? The Great Mammon should be welcomed to see his human whenever he wants

So there he goes, happily running to your room to tell you about his plan on how he'll steal the money from the Demon Lord's castle and be rich forever

You know? Everyday stuff

You're just minding your own thing, changing, chilling

And in bursts this stupid fucking idiot that you love unfortunately cause you're a moronsexual

The second he sees you, he's screaming

And now you're screaming

He's screaming more

You scream louder, for some reason?

Now who hears this? Everyone

And now who else is bursting into your room cause of the screams? You guessed it! Everyone

Lucifer is annoyed, Levi is LOLOLOL- ing, Satan is rolling his eyes, Asmo is squealing cause someone is naked, Beel's covering his eyes while carrying Belphie

All while you're still there half naked

Mammon finally comes to his tsundere senses

"OI EVERYONE GET OUT! ASMO GET AWAY FROM MC"

Once everyone leaves, Mammon is at it again

"YOU CAN'T JUST CHANGE IN A PLACE LIKE THIS, HUMAN"

"I'M IN MY ROOM"

Leviathan

This ain't happening cause he never getting outta that room

Okay okay lets say, he is going to your room to show either his new Ruri chan figurines or to tell you the plot of "I work in a small cozy bakery and I get this customer who is really handsome and mysterious and I nearly get mugged but that handsome mysterious starnger saves me and in a shocking plot twist I accidentally find out he is a vampire, now i'm stuck between a vampire and human war"

That got out of hand

Anyway, Levi is naruto running through the hallways to your room cause the more he stays outside, there is a higher risk of encountering normies

So he's excited as hell (pun intended), so he just forgets that there is something called knocking

Here he comes, bursting into your room like a great beacon of anime

And you're there.....in your underwear changing

The great beacon of anime pauses

The great beacon of anime dies

No, he literally gets a nosebleeds, screeches like a banshee, falls unconsious on the floor

Now you're panicking, thinking he's dead

So you quickly put on some clothes, crouch down to check on Levi

He wakes up, sees your face so close to him, faints

He didn't come out of his room for a month after that

Satan

Now he knocks always cause that is just decent manner

He was just too excited this time that he forgot

You can't blame him, he read a really interesting book and the first thing he thought was to tell you about it

He also a really cute cat today!

A CAT!!

He has every reason to be bursting with excitement

And so he enters you room

Looking down at his book

Begining to talk about it-

He looks up

He freezes

For a second though, cause as soon as it registers to him that you're half naked, he whips around so fast-

Of course he'll keep his back turned to you while you quickly put on some clothes

We stan gentleman Satan in this blog

Once you announce that you've changed, he just casually turns around, clears his throat, and starts talking his book

Acts like that didn't happen

Satan on the outside: calm, quiet, talking softly about books and cats

Satan on the inside: fuck fuck fuck fuck

But there will be a light coat of blush spread on his cheeks the entire time

Always knocks every time from now

Asmodeus

Asmo: knocking? Whats that? Never heard of it

He has, he is just a little shit

So he's skipping to your room, lastest Devildom magazines in his hand

He just wanted to show you his photos there

I mean who wouldn't be happy to see pictures of the fabulous moi ♥︎♥︎

Walks right in the room

Squeals in a really high pitched voice

Rip eardrums

"MC I LOVE THAT NEW UNDERWEAR YOU LOOK SO BEAUTIFUL"

Falls glamourously in your bed and stars planning on how you should go shopping together next time so that you could have matching outfits

While you're just there trying to cover yourself up, he pouts at that obviously

"MC its not like I haven't seen you already"

If you're already in a relationship, cool

If you're not, sir what- 😃

Get a restraining order

Beelzebub

*sigh* sweet sweet Beel

The most sanest out of them all

Luke and Barbatos had just dropped off some cupcakes and other sweet treats they had made

Beel was over the moon

He just wanted to share it with you, so there he goes, on the way to your room

Food in his arms, frosting covering his chin adorably from already having eaten half the food

He couldn't help it

I would say Beel does knock before entering but he just sometimes forgets when he is too distracted with food

This was one of those times

So he goes in, chewing on some food

And poor you were there changing, your back turned to the door

As soon as he saw that you were lacking some clothes

He choked

He blushed a bright red, immediately turning away

As he waited for you to put something on, he just stuttered out a apology

He feel really bad

After you tell him its okay, he just goes to offer food to you with a blush on his cheeks

He's such a sweetheart

God bless Beel

Wait no-

Belphegor

Honestly

HONESTLY

I don't think he even cares that much

He was just heading to your room to take a nap with you cause you're his favourite cuddle buddy next to Beel, who was busy eating away every food in some restaurant and giving them a crisis

He's too tired to knock, why bother right?

So he just gets in your bed, pulls you down with him, cuddles you and goes to sleep

You're now trapped in his arms forever

If you get flustered about it, his inner little shit comes out

And he takes that chance to tease you

Tease you ENDLESSLY

But yeah he doesn't care much

Though you should start caring, cause now you're trapped in his arms for Diavolo knows how long

Good luck MC

─────────────

Tags: @jaidenisasimp

Comments and reblogs are appreciated!! Do not repost or claim as yours though, its not cool.

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eveningrainstorm · 5 days

Text

my take on teenage raz and lili!

some design notes under the cut:

They're intended to be about 16 here! I didn't go for anything too drastic in terms of changes -- these are largely just what I'd consider natural evolutions of their canon designs

For Raz, my main focus besides just making him look older was to add a bit more resemblance to the other Aquatos in his design, since his relationship with them wouldn't be strained like it is during canon

Raz is shown with very straight hair in canon, but since most of his family's hair is more wavy or curly I tend to imagine he styles it that way on purpose as part of his Sasha Nein cosplay or whatever. He wouldn't still feel the need to do that at this point, though, so for this design I wanted to make it more curly, similar to Augustus or Frazie, while still similar to his canon style. This turned out to be incredibly difficult and I'm still not entirely happy with where I landed, but it's good enough

I didn't think he would still wear the helmet but I didn't want to discard it entirely, so the goggles were a compromise. I meant to give them some visible scratches and wear and tear since they're presumably the same goggles he's been wearing since he was 10, but I forgot. rip

Obviously the most notable change to Raz's outfit is the scarf -- I wanted something that would tie him visually to the other Aquatos while still fitting with his general look. I imagine they gave it to him as a gift, sort of an acknowledgement that even if he doesn't perform with them as an acrobat, doing his Psychonaut work is his own way of being an Aquato

Raz's outfit here is honestly very similar to his PN2 outfit. This is because in my eyes "long coat and turtleneck" is Peak Character Design and cannot be improved on. (Hence why I may not be the best person to redesign Raz.) He has an actual coat rather than just an oversized blazer this time though, so that's an improvement. With the turtleneck I was was vaguely intending for it to be color-wise something of a middle ground between the Sasha-style green striped turtleneck and the Aquato blue/green and white stripes, but it ended up basically just being the PN1 stripes with the PN2 color. which, you know, that works

I went back and forth on what their heights should be -- I thought it would be kind of funny if Raz ended up short and Lili ended up taller than him, but then I decided to just make them more in line with their families, with Raz being tall and lanky and Lili being average verging on short. Except then I accidentally made Lili tall anyway because I was only vaguely considering her height relative to Raz. I guess Lili's probably taller than her dad now? good for her ig

Most of their facial features are just slight variations of how they look in canon -- slightly smaller eyes and so on. the only real specific change is that Lili has a more defined nose now, similar in shape to her father's

Lili's outfit here is more different from either of her canon outfits than Raz's is, but there's still not much that really requires a ton of explanation. The goal was to make her look vaguely cool and fashionable, although as I am neither of those things I cannot guarantee I was successful

I tried a couple different hairstyles for Lili, and I'm still not entirely set on this one -- Originally what I settled on was to give her two braids, which I did like, but I kept doing sketches of her where I just drew the top part of the hair and was like "ngl this kind of works on its own" and so I ended up going with the short hair. I also briefly tried an asymmetrical haircut but I couldn't get it to look right. I think this one suits her though

Lili's tattoo (on her left wrist) was a later addition to the design, and even in the later stages of drawing this I wasn't sure whether to keep it. I like it conceptually I just haven't figured out a consistent design for it yet, only that it has to be of plants

god these notes got way longer than I meant them to be I am so sorry. Uh basically I'm still figuring out the details of these designs but for now here's Raz and Lili, they're teenagers now, thanks for reading

#still not completely set on these designs but i think i've mostly gotten an idea of what i want from them #i'll probably revisit them in the future. i'm happy with these for now tho #razputin aquato #lili zanotto #psychonauts #psychonauts 2 #my art

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starlightshadowsworld · 29 days

Text

The Wary Weretiger

"You know, I think therapy might be more effective than this." Said Atsushi. He didn't need to turn around to know Akutugawa was rolling his eyes.

"Shut up."

Atsushi raised his hand, catching the orange. "Huh, you even peeled it this time. Must be serious."

He wasn't exactly sure how they got here. Akutagawa had been hunting him down for his bounty.... And than one day just stopped. Somewhere along the lines this had become their routine.

Akutugawa ranted at him, Atsushi sat and ate whatever fruit he'd pick up on the way. Sometimes he'd voice his own opinion and Akutugawa would begrudgingly listen.

It was werid.

But not unwelcome.

It definitely beat having his leg cut off, that's for sure.

"Go on, out with it. I'm busy today." Akutugawa scoffed "and what could you be possibly busy with." Atsushi shrugged "well I still need to get a job."

It didn't matter how much he saved from what he stole from the Orphanage, it wouldn't last him much longer.

"I thought the Agency offered you a position." Said Akutugawa, carefully. As kind as Atsushi was he fought like a caged beast. He could and would ditch Akutugawa if the other offended him.

And Akutugawa didn't want to admit he liked his company.

Atsushi took a bite out of an orange slice "only because of my ability. They're nice people, but I'll find a job myself. Besides that would you my enemy and I am not dealing with that."

His leg would grow back but it was painful. And being on Akutugawa's not bad side was a nice place to be.

Not that Atsushi would admit it.

Akutagawa nodded, he could respect wanting to keep your pride even when you were at rock bottom. But even soo... "Is it so bad for them to want you for your ability?"

Atsushi paused.

"My whole life people have only wanted my ability. They've tried to rip it out of me because they felt entitled to it.... Do you really think I'd want to join an organisation that values it so highly?"

There was an edge to his tone, but also sadness. Akutugawa's eyes went wide in shock.

He unconsciously tugged his coat closer. He wouldn't know what to do if Rashomon was stolen from him.

Akutugawa felt vulnerable just taking a bath, he couldn't imagine how Atsushi felt feeling his ability get ripped out of his skin. It was fortunate that it clearly failed.

It certainly explained Atsushi's distrust of both light and dark.

"I suppose not." Said Akutugawa, going quiet in thought. He went back to his initial question.

"I was once in a situation like yours. I lived in the slums, it was there Dazai found me and I joined the Port Mafia. That became my purpose, and I'm lost without it. But you... You don't have that, and yet you seem satisfied."

Atsushi hummed, thoughtful. "I'm gonna say something, but right or wrong you're not allowed to stab me again."

Akutagawa scoffed.

"I stabbed you one time, stop acting like it was such a big deal.... But very well, I won't stab you."

Atsushi turned to face Akutugawa, putting his orange slices back into a tupperware box. "That isn't your purpose."

Akutagawa is taken aback. He wants to argue but something in him stops him. The way Atsushi spoke to him now was different to how he usually does.

He sounded like Dazai.

Dazai in the quiet moments, the rare moments when Akutugawa hadn't failed him. The all seeing look in his eye as he read Akutugawa like an open book.

"You had a purpose, one you cherished like a second soul. But you lost it. You tried to convince yourself whatever you consider your purpose now is it, but it isn't. And it never will be."

And yet when Atsushi spoke it was kind. It wasn't intended to tear Akutugawa down, quite the opposite. And Akutugawa found himself unable to look away.

"... How do you know this?"

Atsushi smiled, it was small and sad and it didn't fit him like his usual grin did. "You wouldn't be trying so hard to find your purpose if you truly believed you found it."

He looked away, giving Akutugawa some privacy in his own thoughts. "Ask yourself, who were you before the Port Mafia? Who were you back when you were like me? There's you're answer."

Akutagawa frowned, deep in thought. He'd been... He'd been weaker and pitiful. A small child who killed whoever went in his way, but killing hadn't changed in his life.

He was the Port Mafia's Rabid dog, he was still a killer so that wasn't it.

What had he been killing for? In the Port Mafia it was because those were his orders. Because the weak needed to be destroyed to make way for the strong.

Back in the slums it had been for survival. Akutugawa would've died many times over if he'd let those idiots survive. And Gin wouldn't have survived of he hadn't protected her from them.

Akutagawa froze.

... That's what it was. He had been a protector, his reason for killing down in the slums was to protect Gin and his friends.

His friends who were killed on the night Dazai found him... The night Akutugawa lost his purpose and tried to gain another.

But failed.

"I can't get it back." Whispered Akutugawa, suprised that he choked up at the thought. He hadn't thought of them in years.

"You can" Said Atsushi, looking at him again. "The circumstances may have changed, but the core premise is the same. You just have to open yourself up to that."

Open himself up? So Akutugawa had to find something else to protect? That... Didn't seem so hard, given the Port Mafia protected the city from the shadows. And Gin was still with him.

Had it really been infront of him, all this time?

"That's the difference between us" said Atsushi, quietly but Akutugawa caught it. "You had a purpose only to lose it. While I have never had one."

Atsushi chuckled and it was sad again and Akutugawa hated it. He preferred when Atsushi was genuinely happy. When his smile reached his eyes, his eyes that were kind and shined with light.

Now they looked so empty, so sad.

"You think I'm satisfied but I'm not. I have no dreams, no aspirations, my worth is tied entirely to my ability. I live to spite all those that want me dead, to stop them from taking the tiger if I pass on. I have no purpose, not really."

Akutugawa didn't know what to say, all he could do was nod in goodbye when Atsushi left.

He reached down, picking up the half of orange Atsushi saved for him. That he always saved for him, no matter how hard times got.

"You're wrong" he said to the wind as he walked away. "You're so much more than you're ability."

#When you're Atsushi AU has an akutagawa essay in it #The Wary Weretiger #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd atsushi #atsushi nakajima #bsd akutagawa #akutagawa ryuunosuke #Bsd sskk #But they haven't realised it yet

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fruitsoxs · 10 months

Note

SOCKS! you can't just throw that at us and not write it. i need this vashwood x reader fic now. I never thought about it and now I can think of nothing else ❤️

ehe okay okay (this is in relation to this post)

pairings; wolfwood x (afab) reader x vash warnings; pure smut, !nsfw minors dni! , little bit of everything, afab reader with gender neutral pronouns,

notes; vashwood x reader has my heart-- anyway wolfwood telling vash how to fuck you. this is longer than i intended it to be

Vash’s touch is so delicate as his metal fingers run down your skin. He trails his hand down to your waist, then back up to your cheek. He’s nervous. You can tell he’s nervous from the way he looks at you as you’re sprawled out on the bed underneath him. He doesn’t know what to do next, or how to keep the mood up. Hsi blue eyes are full of hesitance, and it’s so cute. You pull him down into a kiss, letting your tongue slip in between his lips as he makes small noises of pleasure. He likes kissing. He grips onto your face to keep the kiss going for a little while, only letting you pull away when you tap him softly to let him know you need air. As you part, a bit of spit links your mouth together. His cheeks are red, pupils dilated, and his tongue is sticking out slightly.

What you would give to take control and show him how much you love him. You can’t though. This is not your moment to lead, it’s not his either.

“You can be rougher than that blondie.” Wolfwood huffs from the chair across from you. He’s got a cigarette hanging lazily from his lips, and his eyes are on you. He winks and lets out a soft chuckle. “You’re letting ‘em do all the work. You’re supposed to be fucking them, not the other way around. Come on.” he instructs Vash. Vash’s face turns a bit red but he nods. He leans in to kiss you again, this time with more control.

His hands drift back down to your waist and slide up your torso, trailing over the bare skin. You moan against his lips at the cool feeling. His lips detach from yours and trails down your jaw as he reaches around your back to undo your bra. He struggles with it for a second, but soon enough he’s ripping the fabric from your form, staring down at your bare chest.

“Don’t just stare. Touch ‘em.” Wolfwood sighs, as though he’s annoyed. You can see him pawing at his clothed erection though. Vash bites his lips and nods, reaching out both hands to squeeze your chest. You gasp at the feeling of his metal hand and he retracts it. “Sorry!” He yelps, eyes wide. “It’s fine Vash. It just surprised me. You can keep going.” you reassure, smiling up at him. He sighs in relief and lets his hands fall back down around you, squeezing at the flesh. “You’re so pretty.” he hums leaning down, his eyes focused on the task at hand. He slowly wraps his lips around one of your nipples, licking and sucking at it experimentally. Your back arches up as you let out a loud whimper. “There you go. Look at that reaction. Perfect. Keep going.” Wolfwood instructs.

Vash does as he says, moving his lips to your other nipple. He seems to be a bit more confident now, even going far as to let his fangs dig into your nipple a bit, offering some pain along with that pleasure. It makes you cry out, hands gripping the mattress beneath you. He smirks and does it again, and you all but melt. “V-Vash!” You moan and he pulls away slightly looking up at you. His lips still ghost over the soft skin, his warm breath hitting your hard nipple. The hesitancy from before slowly going away.

He starts trailing kisses down your sternum, then your stomach. All the while his eyes are on yours, gaging your reaction. Your eyes are wide as his lips rest right above your underwear line. He stops for a moment, and looks over at Wolfwood. “Go ahead Blondie.” And that’s all Vash needs to hear before he’s taking the thin fabric off of you.

He parts your legs and looks down at your wet pussy with red cheeks. He bites his lips, and looks up at you. He’s not sure how to proceed. Wolfwood lets out a dry chuckle. “Just touch. You can tell if they like it by the way their body reacts.” He instructs. Vash slowly trails his hand down up your leg, and softly ghosts it over your cunt. You twitch and let your hips lift to meet his hand, whining for just a bit of friction.

He presses his fingers against your folds and gathers up a bit of your slick, then trails them up to your clit, You gasp and buck your hips again. “F-Fuck- right there-” you groan. His eyes widen and he starts rubbing the sensitive spot softly. It drives you mad.

Vash’s touch is so hesitant and sweet. It’s everything you had hoped it would be, but you need more. Wolfwood sees the desperation in your eyes and stands up. He walks over and grabs Vash’s head, which causes the blonde man to let out a choked gasp/moan. “You wanna eat them out blondie?” Wolfwood asks, tilting Vash’s head up. Vash lets out a soft yes, and before you know it Wolfwood is pushing Vash’s head down between your legs. “Lick.”

And Vash complies. He licks at your clit softly, almost like a kitten lick at first. When you gasp and moan, his tongue grows more intense. Swiping at the nerve to draw out those sweet noises. He experiments a bit, trying to figure out what movements get the biggest reaction. “Now, start adding your fingers into the mix. Get em prepped for what’s to come.” Wolfwood’s eyes are on you as you react to what’s happening below you. He seems to enjoy watching you get off on Vash’s tongue.

You’re given little time to think about that as a finger slips into your pussy. You cry out as your hands fly down to grab onto Vash’s hair. Wolfwood steps back to watch the scene play out. Vash’s fingering is a bit clumsy, but it feels so good. He adds a finger as Wolfwood tells him to, and you feel yourself start to crumble.”F-Fuck- Vash I’m gonna-” You get cut off by him bending his fingers in just the right way. You basically yell out his name as you cum around his fingers. He doesn’t seem to want to stop. He continues to lick and suck at your sensitive bud. “Fuck- Sunshine you taste so good.” he coos. You whimper and try to pull his head away, overwhelmed after your orgasm.

“You can do that again some other time. They’re ready for you.” Wolfwood guides him away.

You’re chets rises up and down as you pant, staring at Vash. He makes eye contact with you, seemingly just now losing all of his confidence. “I-I…” he stutters, his hands on your knees. He takes a deep breath and nods. “Okay.”

You smile softly and sit up, connecting your lips to his. He kisses back. You can hear shuffling to the side. Wolfwood must be sitting down again. There’s no doubt the man is probably looking for a little relief of his own. This moment is all about you and Vash though. You give the blonde a sloppy kiss, drinking in his soft moans. Your fingers trail down to the hem of his shirt, and you slowly pull the fabric up. He tenses, but your reassuring kisses help him ease into the situation. You know he must be insecure right now, but it’s nothing you haven’t already seen. He knows you think he’s beautiful.

After that you fall back down, leaving him with one last kiss. His hands fly down to his pants, and he starts to push them down. He takes his time, his hands still shaky. Once the pants are off, he lets out a soft sigh. You reach up and trail your hand up his thigh, and he sucks in a breath. It’s…different. “Beautiful.” You mumble out loud. Not normal, but not in a bad way. He smiles down at you, and grabs your hand. He holds it for a second, before Wolfwood lets out an impatient groan.

The man is sitting back in the chair, stroking his dick. His eyes are focused on you two, and he seems to be saying “get on with it.” You roll your eyes at the man and look up at Vash. “You ready?” you ask softly. Vash nods. He strokes himself a few times, then slowly presses his cock against you.

The two of you moan as he gathers up some of your arousal, coating his dick in it. “Good boy. Now remember to take it slow, let them get used to you.” Wolfwood grunts. Vash holds his breath and pushes the head of his dick against your entrance. You let out a soft cry.

And then he slides it in.

Slowly. He makes sure to keep eye contact with you, watching your reactions. He looks like he’s about to lose it. His eyes are wide, his jaw slack. He’s making little mewls as he slowly pushes himself inside you. It’s a different feeling than you’re used to, and your body trembles as you slowly adapt to it. He bottoms out finally and the both of you are on the verge of tears. It’s almost emotional. “So fucking good.” Wolfwood mumbles from the side, and you clench around Vash.

“I-I Need to- Sunshine can I please-” Vash chokes out. You nod and whisper out a yes. He begins moving right away, pulling back to salm himself inside you. He hunches over you, and you drape your arms over his shoulder, pulling him against you. Your legs wrap around his torso. His hands rest on either side of your head. He leans his head down, his hair tickling the side of your head.

“Oh, Oh!”

Each movement makes you want to scream louder and louder as Vash splits you open. He fucks you like it’s destiny. Like he’ll never be able to do it again even. It’s sloppy, and inexperienced, but it feels so good. It’s rushed, but perfect.

“Just like that, Blondie.” Wolfwood moans from the side. His presence makes it feel all the more dirty. It makes your body heat up. Vash lets out a soft hiss, his movements becoming more sporadic. He’s close, you know he is. Wolfwood knows he is too. “You gonna cum? Gonna cum inside them?” The man asks Vash, who whines and nods. There’s sweat dripping off of his forehead, and his body seems to glow.

Wolfwood’s words are enough to start pushing you over the edge as well. You claw at Vash desperately, and he quickens his pace. It hits you just right. “Oh my god!” You yell out. “Vash– I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna–”

“Come on Blondie give em what they want–”

Vash whimpers out a soft “Oh”.

His cock throbs as he cums inside you. You throw your head back and yell out his name as you reach your orgasm too. Your nails dig into his shoulders, Vash groaning as you come on his cock. Beside you, Wolfwood curses and you can only assume the man has reached his end as well. Vash’s movements slow to a stop, and all that’s left is the three of you panting.

When Vash pulls out, you whimper at the loss. He looks down at you and smiles. “I love you.” he mumbles before he drops his head down to give you a soft kiss. You giggle and kiss back. “Love you too.”

“And?” Wolfwood grumbles, slouched over in the chair. Vash smiles and looks over at him. “We love you too, Nick.” He calls over to the man. You nod in agreement. “Damn right you do.”

#wolfwood x reader #vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #nicholas d wolfwood x reader #vashwood x reader #wolfwood smut #vash smut

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sophierequests · 2 years

Note

hey!

i literally binge read all your kaz fics so i was wondering if you could write a kaz x reader where the reader is a love interest? defiantly something fluffy if possible

maybe as a prompt the reader is a uni student and none of the crows no about her but they’ve noticed kaz sneaking out to see her so they follow him and they finally meet? no pressure at all, just a suggestion!! 🫶

i can't deny it any longer

Navigation┃Main Masterlist┃Requests

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x f!Reader

A/N: Hi, love! I noticed your Kaz binge and I really appreciated it <333 I'm so glad you like what I write. I got way too deep into this request, but I really adored writing it, so I hope you like it. Even though it's a bit long. This is just filled to the brim with pining and fluff, but I'm not sorry. Thank you for the request!

Summary: An unlikely friendship gets revealed, and the Crows intend to make more of it.

Genre: Fluff and Comedy

Word Count: 6.6K (This is the longest fic I ever wrote and I have no clue why dsaljh)

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, feelings and ripping peoples' eyes out :D

None of the Crows dared to speak on the walk back to the Slat. The job had been a complete disaster, and Kaz was fuming. Not even Inej, who had never feared Kaz’s outbursts before, attempted to talk him down. This was going to be a fun evening.

When they finally reached the Slat, he didn’t even spare them one word before he limped up the worn staircase that lead to his office. They didn’t go after him. It was best to allow him to sort things out on his own, rather than giving him another reason to lash out at them. Instead, they huddled together in the living room area to assess and treat their wounds, also bringing a few bottles of whiskey into the equation while they were at it.

Half an hour later, they heard heavy footsteps accompanied by the clicking of a cane coming down the stairs. All of them readied themselves for the berating of a lifetime once Kaz would reach their floor, but the footsteps didn’t come closer. The footsteps started to fade and become barely audible until the front door of the Slat was slammed shut. The rest of the Crows just gaped at each other with questioning glances, only Inej silently slipping towards the window, trying to spot him in the colourful crowd outside. But he was already too far away for anyone to see him.

“Phew, that was a close one,” Jesper exclaimed enthusiastically, taking another sip from his drink. “I doubt that I could have dealt with another one of his tirades on gun safety or no gambling on the job.” His voice mocked Kaz’s stern intonation, but no one seemed to latch onto the joke. He only earned a dismissive look from Wylan, who was still busy dusting the soot off his jacket.

“Where do you think he’s going?” Nina asked, her head turning to the Suli girl still residing at the window. As much as the Heartrender wanted to be mad at him, she knew that Kaz wasn’t necessarily skilled at taking care of himself or knowing when to stop, so she still felt a certain sense of dread.

“He’s probably off to get his head smashed in because he can’t take a loss,” Matthias grumbled, leaning back into the cushion of the couch, a prominent frown on his face. Nina only gave him a jab to the rips in an effort to reprimand him.

“I have absolutely no clue.” Inej began with a huffed breath. “But I’m sure that he knows exactly where he’s going.”

“What does that mean?” Wylan raised his brows.

“He’s been secretly going out a lot recently. Specifically at night or when he thinks that no one is watching. I began noticing it three weeks ago and I didn’t think it was that odd. However, by now I’m starting to get a bit worried. He always leaves when something went wrong and I just can’t seem to figure out where he’s going.”

“And you’ve been keeping that from us the whole time?” Jesper questioned, a devilish grin settling on his lips. “That is perfect blackmailing material, Inej! Kaz Brekker, sneaking out in the middle of the night to do what? Does he have a second identity that he’s been hiding from us? Is he off to go on secret jobs? Or maybe he’s visiting his secret partner?”

“Kaz Brekker having a secret partner?” Nina snorted, very much enjoying the way this conversation developed. “You don’t really think that’s likely, do you?”

“That’s the thing that you hold to be the least likely?” Wylan muttered amusedly.

“Have you ever tried to track him?” The Sharpshooter directed his question at Inej again. He was determined to know everything and would not stop until he did. “I mean, we evidently all care about his well-being,” his tone was audibly sarcastic, even though everyone knew that he actually did care, “so it would be best to keep tabs on him.”

“I did once. Somehow he knew that I was there and he told me off. From then on I didn’t feel like it would have been appropriate. He obviously doesn’t want us to know, and I think we should respect that.”

“Well, I think we should follow him the next time. Just to check up on him, of course” By now Jesper was fully convinced of getting behind his friend’s secret nights out. He exchanged a devious glance with Nina, whereas the other three Crows just rolled their eyes. They would definitely tag along, though.

On the other side of Ketterdam, you were busy finishing your last exam of the semester. It had been quite the straining term, so you were glad to finally be done with it. Once you left the exam hall, the light of the day had already subsided, announcing a bleak evening.

Normally, you wouldn’t have gone straight home after taking an exam, but none of your friends had to take the same exam, so they wouldn’t have been down for your usual visit to the local pubs. And going out alone was absolutely not an option that you would consider. Well, you would have considered it if you had the chance to visit a particular club. However, walking around the Barrel at night as a young university student with basically no self-defence skills didn’t seem like the best idea if you plan on finishing your degree. Realistically, you also had only one good reason to drop by the gambling den anyway. A reason that you were way too invested in and that probably didn’t even like you back.

You bit the inside of your cheek as your mind was invaded by thoughts about Kaz Brekker. The friendship between the two of you was fairly unlikely to anyone else. The Bastard of a Barrel being friends with a plain university student. But after you had caught him red-handed while he tried to steal classified institute information, yet still decided to let him go, he became instantly interested in getting to know more about you. At first, you assumed that he only wanted to get close to you since you had easy access to quite a few institutes and libraries. Well, it turns out that that wasn’t exactly the case. Your small flat became something close to a retreat to him. Whenever things at the Slat started to weigh down on him, he would come to you. It was an odd picture, watching Dirtyhands, one of the most feared men in Ketterdam, sprawled out on your couch, ranting about his day, but by now it was almost like a habit.

For some reason, the young crime boss had managed to fully capture your interest. In other words, you were completely and utterly besotted with him. And it was humiliating to say the least. He would never be able to love you back. Not the way you did at least.

You had been so lost in thought that you hadn’t even acknowledged where you were going until you stood at the main entrance of your flat building. You were definitely in need of a nap. After climbing the mountain of stairs leading up to your door, that is. But when you were just about to pull the bundle of keys out of your pocket, you heard a chair scraping over the floorboards inside your room. Maybe you had to scratch that well-deserved nap.

With cautious steps, you crept towards the door, pulling out the delicate dagger you kept attached to your belt - of course, a gift from Kaz. Even though the University District wasn’t too far away from the Barrel, there never had been a break-in close to your flat unit before, so the prospect of a stranger currently rummaging through your belongings scared you greatly. Slowly you pressed down the handle, allowing you to see inside the cramped flat. As your eyes roamed the small space, they were met with another pair of eyes staring back at them. You were close to letting out a shriek until you realised who the stranger was.

The dark-clad figure stretched out in one of your armchairs, discarding the book he had been browsing through. He acted as if it was completely reasonable for him to be in your home without you knowing about it. You closed the door behind you, considering whether you should scold him or whether you should be glad that he was here.

“Put the knife down, love.” Saints, how you hated him addressing you with these damned cutesy pet names. “You’d be more likely to accidentally pluck someone’s eye out than to actually defend yourself judging by the way you’re holding it.” Bastard.

“I’d say plucking someone’s eye out would be a great way to defend myself.” You dropped your bag at the entrance, walked over to the living room and sat on the armrest of your couch to calm your aggressively thudding heart.

“Not if you do it by accident. That would probably count as aggravated assault if you’d ask the Staadwatch.”

“As if you care about that the Staadwatch has to say.” He chuckled in response to that. He didn’t laugh - you weren’t even sure if he could - but a chuckle from Kaz Brekker was enough to make your head spin. Pathetic. “On another note, please tell me that you didn’t break in through the window again. I’m running out of excuses for all the scratches on the window sill.”

“I promise that I didn’t break in through the window.”

“Thank you.”

“I picked the lock on your front door this time.” You groaned, whilst simultaneously biting back a grin. “And I would also advise you to get new ones. They are way too flimsy. Very easy to outsmart. Especially for people with ill intentions.”

“Aw, that almost sounds like you care about me, Brekker.” He didn’t have one of his usual cocky comebacks at hand, so he merely gave you a warning glare, knowing that you weren’t afraid of him. As crazy as it sounded, you fully trusted him to never harm you.

For the first time this evening, you allowed yourself to take a proper look at the man across from you. It wasn't unusual for him to look like an utter mess when he pays you a visit, today he seemed just a bit more burnt out than what you were used to. There were prominent bags under his eyes, a stark contrast to the marble-like paleness of his skin. His hair was slightly dishevelled and it didn't help that he continuously ran his hand through it. All in all, he looked like he should've retired to bed a long time ago. Instead, he was here.

“Didn’t you have a job today? Shouldn’t you still be off completing some teenage criminal business?” You inquired, not necessarily caring too much about the bloody details of his work, but wanting him to continue talking. He scowled and that already told you the reason for today’s visit. “Ah, it went well I assume.”

“Don’t get me started.” You got him started. In fact, his rant almost took one hour, only allowing you to give some sparse comments in between. You would have to lie if you said that you were actively listening to what he was saying. As soon as he started telling you about how his ‘Plan F’ failed, you had already forgotten the initial intent of the mission.

“If I had stayed at the Slat any longer I would probably have ripped somebody’s eyes out,” Kaz gnarled and judging by his expression he was being completely serious.

“Good to know that coming here calms your murderous tendencies, Kaz. Even though, I believe that a good night’s sleep would have done the same thing.”

“Are you implying that you would like me to leave?”

“I’m implying that you look like you haven’t had a proper rest in forever.” You pushed yourself off your makeshift seat, walking over to the cabinet where you kept your alcohol and grabbing one of the rather fancy wine bottles. “Actually, I’m quite glad to have your company. Drinking alone is always such a bummer.” A bit clumsily, you filled up two wine glasses and handed him the slightly fuller one, which he sceptically accepted.

“Are we drinking to celebrate or to forget?” He smirked, raising the glass to his lips and taking a brief sip from it. The eye contact between you never faltered as he spoke. It almost made you forget what you actually wanted to drink on.

“Depending on the exam results, we might have to be a bit ambivalent with our reasoning.” You mirrored his previous movements, the velvety alcohol numbing your throat. You didn’t expect him to remember the fact that you had an exam today, he had so much on his mind without your insignificant ramblings, but his muddled expression told you that he did know.

“You took your final exam for this semester and the first thing you do is go home with the intention of drinking alone?”

“And you just returned from a botched job that cost you a thousand kruge, and presumably a whole bunch of nerves, yet the first thing you do is walk from the Barrel to the University District to stay at a lousy flat?” You gave him a self-satisfied smile, which he only returned with an eye roll.

“Seems like we both tend to go for the unreasonable.” He replied, a foreign sense of sobriety clouding his usually stern and cold eyes. Something clicked inside him after that conversation, but he didn’t have the will to tell you. Not right now.

Kaz only left when he caught the way your head began to slump to the side every other minute and how the time between your yawns got shorter and shorter. When he strode through the streets, he was somewhat startled by the fact that the sun had already begun to rise. He had spent the whole night with you, something he had never dared to do before, the apprehension of becoming too close - too attached - to you constantly lingering in the back of his mind. Tonight felt just right, though. Maybe he could allow himself one more weakness.

Breakfast at the Slat was surprisingly calm. As of now. One Crow was currently still missing, much to the delight of his friends’ mental well-being. Nevertheless, it still made some of them feel uneasy. What did they have to expect once Dirtyhands would join them? Was his absence just there to give them a false sense of security?

“He can’t possibly still be asleep.” Wylan groaned, genuinely just wanting to put the whole situation past him. He hated confrontation, especially when that confrontation was coming from Kaz, but he also hated the uncomfortable tension that was emitting from every single one of his friends.

“I doubt that he slept at all.” Inej returned, her voice still heavy with slumber. “I didn’t hear him coming back yesterday, so it must have been pretty late into the night. He wouldn’t go to bed at that point.”

The firm shutting of the front door made their heads turn. Realistically, it could have been anyone, it’s not like the Slat was inhabited by the Crows alone, but they all had a sneaking suspicion about who it could be.

That suspicion was confirmed once they heard the clinking of a cane coming up the stairs. And this time, the noise approached them determinedly. Kaz entered the room quietly, acknowledging the presence of the others with a mumbled greeting. There was no malice when he spoke, none of his usual venom could be found. Perhaps it was the veil of tiredness that was visible on his features, but he didn’t seem to have the intention of berating them. He looked…at ease?

“Good morning, boss,” Jesper was the first to speak up, causing Inej to give him an alarmed glance. She did not want this to get blown out of proportion, especially not because of one of the Sharpshooter’s humorous comments. “Are my eyes deceiving me or is there a certain lack of a frown on your face?” Alright, here they go again.

Kaz, who had made a beeline to pour himself a cup of morning coffee, didn’t show the underlying discomfort questions like these evoked. It was obvious that all of them were suspecting that something had changed - Saints, it was a miracle that none of them had brought his occasional disappearances up earlier - but he couldn’t allow himself to feed their theories.

“That rang true until you opened your mouth, Jesper.” He groggily replied, deciding that it would be best to avoid them for the remainder of the day.

“He’s totally hiding something,” Nina whispered as they listened to his footsteps disappear upstairs.

“Oh, he so is. But I suppose we’ll find out soon enough.”

To their dismay, Kaz’s secret trips stopped for the following days. But roughly a week after the uncomfortable breakfast encounter, Inej barged into the living room area, a devious grin on her lips - unusual for the normally holier-than-thou Wraith.

“He left! He’s on his way towards the Financial District.” Without wasting any more words, the Crows scrambled to their feet. It looked almost comical, five young adults that were barely done with their teenage years hurrying out of the Slat to stalk one of their friends.

Inej obviously led the party, tracking Kaz from a fair distance without eliciting his attention. Against her initial suggestion, he didn’t choose to stay in the Financial District, rather sternly crossing right through it. His target destination seemed to be the campus of Ketterdam University. But what kind of business would he have here?

They watched as he approached an outdated flat building, entering it without a second thought. Great, now they only had to figure out what room he would be in. They, meaning Inej.

“Am I dreaming or did Kaz Brekker just knock and act like a normal member of society, instead of breaking into my home as usual?” You quipped, beckoning him to come in with a warm smile. It was embarrassing to say, but even one week of him not coming by felt like an eternity of being deprived of his presence.

“I apologize, the next time I’ll just resort to throwing a brick through your window to not make you question your grip on reality.” It was a stupid joke, a terrible one even, yet you couldn’t help letting out a laugh. A laugh that made Kaz’s mind go blank whenever he heard it.

Today’s visit had no specific reason. He was starting to accept that he didn’t need a specific reason to come here, other than just simply wanting to see you. He wouldn’t say that out loud, and neither would you question it. It was enough to just be here. To hear you laugh at his dry humour. To listen to you talk about your day. Hell, even merely to enjoy the comfortable silence, as long as you were here.

Your usual routine was barely about to begin when one of the tiles on the rooftop next to your window crashed against the cobblestone a few stories lower. The sound of the tile coming down didn’t concern you. The rustling coming from right outside your walls did. You looked over to Kaz, who did not look particularly concerned. A knowing grimace graced the sharp lines of his face.

Without any warning, he pushed himself off the armchair, striding towards the window and forcing it open. You couldn’t see what he was searching for, but you spotted the exact moment when he found it. Judging by the way his jaw clenched you could only pray that he hadn’t gotten both of you into trouble.

“I know that you’re here, Inej.” Inej? The Wraith? What was she doing here? “I know that all of you are here.” His hoarse voice called into the darkness of the night. All of them? This made you a bit anxious. You joined him at the window, though you weren’t able to see anything since respecting his boundaries with touch also meant giving him enough space to move freely.

You almost jumped when a hooded figure appeared at the small platform in front of your window. The person pulled down their head-covering, revealing the apologetic face of a young Suli girl. This had to be Inej, Kaz’s unofficial second in command. He had told you quite a few things about her, but being face to face with her - well, sort of - was completely different. After she had pried her eyes away from Kaz’s menacing stare, she turned to look at you, and you could swear that the faintest hint of a smile flashed over her face.

“Kaz, listen, we’re terribly sorry for invading your personal affairs like that. We were just a bit-”

“You were what? Concerned about my safety? Or just way too curious for your own good?” His voice sounded dangerously low, a tone he had never used in your presence. “Leave. I’ll talk to you - all of you - once I’m back at the Slat.”

“Kaz, let them come in. It’s not a big deal.” Even though you weren’t sure who else the ‘they’ would entail, you didn’t feel like creating an argument over no harm done.

“They followed me here to satisfy their need for gossip and you don't think that's a big deal?"

"It's not like that." The Suli girl interrupted. "We were genuinely worried about you sneaking off in the middle of the night and just wanted to make sure that you were okay." He didn't completely believe that, but as his gaze turned to meet yours again, he let out a sigh.

"Fine." He lamented, audible enough for everyone to hear before trudging back to the couch in hopes to ignore whatever was about to happen.

Almost soundlessly, the Wraith slipped into your flat, looking around carefully as she took in her surroundings. She offered you her hand, in an attempt to at least give you the decency to introduce herself.

"Please forgive us for disturbing you like this, especially in the privacy of your own home. I'm aware that this isn't the ideal first impression. I'm Inej, one of Kaz's…friends." She was careful with her words, knowing that Kaz was listening in on everything she said. But you didn't care about his grudges. You had always wanted to meet his Crows, the few friends he was keen on telling you about, so their sudden appearance was actually quite delightful.

"Don't bother worrying about this. It's fine, trust me. There’s room for all of us, and some more company doesn’t hurt." You tried to reassure her, but a knock at the door announced the arrival of the others. Upon opening the door, you were met with the four remaining Crows, who gingerly shuffled into your small living space, greeting you with muttered apologies you didn’t pay any mind to. They were quite an interesting crowd, you had to note. The blonde mountain of a man entered first, accompanied by a radiant young woman, dressed in a red dress that fit her perfectly. Your mind immediately wandered to the many times Kaz had been talking about Matthias Helvar’s broody nature and Nina Zenik’s hatred towards his haircut - that had to be them. You identified the last two people as Wylan Van Eck and Jesper Fahey. The shy redhead, who had been the most apologetic out of the group was quickly pulled away by the charming Zemeni man, who only gave you a curt nod as he pushed past you to the seating area.

Even though Kaz was already on edge about your hospitality, you still went out of your way to hurry to the kitchen and bring out a few more glasses and a decanter of water. You wouldn’t allow yourself to be seen as a negligent host, especially when it came to the friends Kaz had told you so much about him

The whole group sat scattered around your minuscule living room area, occupying every seat but the empty space next to their boss on the couch. He noticed your hesitance and slid a bit further towards the armrest, wordlessly telling you that it was okay, maybe even a bit welcome to sit next to him. Without thinking too much about it, you accepted his offer, attaining some stunned glances from his team.

"I'm so pleased to finally meet all of you." You beamed after finally settling in and introducing yourself briefly, earning a pleading look from the man sitting next to you. A look you bluntly chose to ignore. "Kaz has been droning on about his Crows since I've known him."

The man who you had rightfully assumed to be Jesper shot a teasing glance at Kaz. Any intention of a comment leaving his lips was quickly extinguished by one of Kaz's muttered threats, which you couldn’t completely make out, but that seemed to be enough of a warning to shut him up.

“I wish we could say the same,” The Heartrender spoke up, her voice soft and pleasant as she gave you a calming smile. “But Kaz failed to mention that he had other…friends.” Her tone was reluctant and you could basically feel the man in question tense up next to you. The realization dawned on you that they were probably all thinking that you were romantically involved. A thought you had nothing against, in all honesty, but you didn’t intend on admitting that in the near future.

“Not that we would have believed him had he told us earlier.” Matthias’s thick Fjerdan accent added dryly.

“But of course, we’re very happy to hear - and see - that he isn’t the secluded hermit he makes himself out to be.” The Sharpshooter snickered, satisfied with the way this situation had turned out. “Even though we are kind of hurt that you didn’t think about introducing this gorgeous lady to us. Were you just going to keep her hidden away from us until you suffer a probable untimely death? You should have brought her to the Crow Club to meet us sooner. I’m sure she wouldn’t have minded.”

“You must be really lovely company if Kaz decided to keep you all to himself.” Nina directed her attention back to you. You felt your heartbeat pick up its pace. She was definitely insinuating exactly what you thought she was. It only got worse when you recalled that she was very likely listening in on the accelerated thudding inside your chest.

“Maybe I just didn’t think that she would enjoy your company, Zenik.” He retorted smugly, causing the Grisha to frown. I wouldn’t want her to be affected by your questionable influence.” His last sentence reeked of sarcasm and you knew it, yet the girl on the other side of the room put on her best offended expression.

“That’s rich coming from a man that doesn’t shy away from ripping people’s eyes out if they wronged him. Talk about enjoyable company.” You were no stranger to the Barrel’s brutality, even though Kaz didn’t necessarily talk that much about the bloody details of his job, so this information didn’t significantly faze you.

“If she gets along with Kaz this well, she’ll get along with us just fine,” Wylan added, enticing a chuckle from his boyfriend, who had one arm slung around his shoulder. You didn’t miss the faint hue of pink on Kaz’s cheeks after the Merchling put additional emphasis on the ‘this well’ part of his statement. Was he seriously flustered?

However, his theory seemed to ring true. The rest of the evening was spent chatting about your respective lives and a lot of jokes - most of them made at Kaz’s expense. The teasing about him sneaking out to meet you seemed to be ceaseless, and it affected him more than you would have expected. Maybe that was the reason why he was so reluctant to introduce them to you.

When the night gradually came to an end, you picked up the mugs of tea and coffee that had begun to accumulate on the living room table, moving to bring them to the kitchen. Inej, who had been rather reserved for the majority of the evening, was set on helping you. It seemed like she had something to get off her chest in private, so you blindly agreed. Your heart stung a bit when you thought about the possible discussion topics she had planned to hit you with. It was no secret that she and Kaz were quite close, but he never told you about the true nature of their relationship. For all you knew they could have been in a steady relationship for years now. However, you didn’t nurture that thought for your own good.

The two of you sauntered to the kitchen, putting all the glasses and mugs into the sink to be dealt with at some point later. She carefully closed the door behind her before she let her back rest against it. She really did want to talk to you. Mentally, you were already prepared for the worst.

“Y/N, I bit my tongue the whole evening and would really hate to pry, especially after the unlucky circumstances under which we had to meet for the first time, but there is a question that I just can’t get out of my head.” Shit, this was going to hurt. “Are Kaz and you, uhm, seeing each other?” Your cheeks instantly turned bright red. Nothing ever happened between the two of you, other than yearning glances on your part and comments that could be interpreted as flirty on his, but it had gotten painfully obvious that you weren’t entirely satisfied with that.

“Kaz and me?” You sputtered, trying to act like this was the most incredulous suggestion to ever exist. “Oh, we’re just friends - well, if you can call it that - I promise there is nothing to worry about!” Inej cocked her head to the side, mustering you with a bemused expression as you were still wrestling for the right words. You had expected her to be relieved or to not believe you and end up lashing out at you. What you hadn’t expected her to do was smile.

“What should I be worried about?”

“I mean, uhm, you and Kaz-”

“Oh no, absolutely not.” She laughed, throwing her head back as she realized what you were so unsure about. “There is nothing between me and Kaz. He’s my friend, but nothing more.” These words felt as if something heavy got lifted off your shoulders. At least you were not about to be stabbed by the Wraith for having a crush on someone she could’ve been with. Now, you would just have to deal with the feelings not being mutual.

“The same goes for me and Kaz. We’re just friends.” You tried to lie to yourself.

“I think he might be on a different page.”

“What?” Her way of speaking made you realize why she and Kaz were friends in the first place. Both of them would rather die than speak in coherent sentences.

“None of us believed that Kaz was seeing someone when we became aware of him sneaking out. To us, it would have been more likely for him to have a second identity. So when we followed him tonight, we didn’t expect…this.” She gestured around the room, her hands pointing up and down your body. “He seeks you out when he’s stressed - not because he needs to get away from us, he has his office for that and knows how to keep us at an arm’s length - but because he wants to be here. The six of us have been friends for so long, and I don’t think that he ever looked at any of us the way he looked at you. It may not be obvious to you, and I wouldn’t blame you, that man is more than emotionally constipated, but whatever feelings you harbour towards him, I’m sure that they are reciprocated.” Your head felt light. Could she be right? Could Kaz Brekker ever feel even slightly the same as you did?

“I’d like to believe that, Inej, I really would. But I promise that the feelings between us are merely platonic, and it’s better that way.”

“What a shame. It would do Kaz some good to have something consistent - something good - in his life.” With that, she pushed herself off the wood behind her, giving you an encouraging wink before she returned to the others.

Unbeknownst to you, Kaz had suffered a similar fate whilst you were talking to Inej.

The five remaining friends had waited for the door to close behind you and the Wraith, their heads snapping towards Kaz when they heard it click.

“So, Kaz-”

“No matter what you were planning to say, keep it to yourself, Zenik.” He wasn’t having this at all.

“Are you two dating?” Wylan asked eagerly, prompting Kaz to groan in displeasure.

“Y/N and I are not dating. And after all the trouble you five caused me today it’s bold to even imply that.”

“Come on Kaz, we may lack your skills in deduction, but we are not blind. We all see the way you look at her.” Jesper taunted his friend playfully, wriggling his brow suggestively.

“I look at her the same way I look at all of you.”

“I sure as hell hope you don’t. I don’t want you to give me heart eyes.”

“I’m not giving her ‘heart eyes’, Jesper.” There was audible disdain in his voice as he repeated Jesper’s words to him.

“If telling yourself that helps you sleep at night.” Even Matthias joined in on the teasing. He truly was done for.

“What did I do to deserve this?” Kaz rubbed his eyes with his hand, hoping that once he had removed it from his face, his friends would stop pestering him about this.

“That list would be too long for us to go through now. Especially if you intend on keeping your love interest.” Jesper was really playing with fire at this point.

“I’ll say it one last time. She is not my love interest. We are not in a relationship. The relationship we have is just as platonic as the relationships I have with you.”

“Because slipping out in the middle of the night just to see her is very platonic?” Nina grinned sheepishly. “Just admit that you like her and ask her out, for Saint’s sake. What are you so afraid of? Rejection? Being honest with yourself? Is that the way to defeat the mighty Dirtyhands? Should we send a message to Pekka Rollins?”

“That’s enough.” Kaz’s voice turned cold. Spying on his private business was one thing, but acting as if he owed them a heartfelt confession was too much. “This is none of your concern, it never was in the first place.”

Before he could add anything more, the kitchen door creaked open with you and Inej emerging from the room behind it. There was a shared understanding to not bring that topic up for the remainder of the night. They still hoped that one of you would make a move, but they couldn’t force you to, so they just had to drop it.

After an hour or so more of talking, they chose to leave you alone again. The Crows said their goodbyes, already inviting you to get drinks at the Club during the next week. All of them wandered towards the door, except for one.

“I’ll join you later. Go back home.” Kaz ordered, provoking Nina, Jesper and Inej to exchange giddy glances. But they still left without asking any questions. Once they were finally gone, he turned to face you, visibly wound up over everything that happened today. “I apologize for their behaviour. That was completely unacceptable, and them simply showing up with-” You silenced him with a simple hand gesture and a smile.

“Kaz, it didn’t bother me. I actually appreciated having them around, even if you didn’t- They are precisely the people that I would expect you to be friends with.”

“Fine. But I hope they won’t make this a habit.”

“Are you afraid of having to share my attention, Brekker?”

“No. I just don’t see the point in seeking relief from a headache just for the headache to follow you everywhere you go.” He replied sarcastically, relishing in the dizzy feeling your laugh gave him. Maybe he should listen to his friends for once.

“Oh, hold on a second!” You paused, hurrying over to dig in the drawers of the cabinet standing in your hallway. After a bit of rummaging, you pulled out something small and shiny. He couldn’t make out the exact shape since you kept it concealed in your fist, but he suspected that it might be for him. “Open your hand.”

“Why?”

“Kaz. Just do it.” He stretched out his arm, letting his gloved hand hover a few inches away from yours. In a matter of seconds, something long and partially heavy was dropped into his palm. It was a silver key.

“What is this for?” He questioned, pulling the gift closer to him to inspect it further. This caused him to miss the flash of embarrassment that rushed over your features.

“It’s a key to my flat.” You confessed meekly, his eyes snapping to meet yours. “I had a copy made after last week. Just so you don’t have to break into my flat anymore.” His face remained calm, but his mind was running wild. You gave him a key to your flat. A key that would allow him to see you whenever he wanted without having to risk getting caught whilst trying to pick your lock. “But you don’t have to accept it if you don’t want to. I just thought it would make things easier. Even if your little headaches might stop you from visiting me that often since they know where I live now.”

“No, I, uhm, thank you. It will at least make me look less like a creep.” He chuckled. If there ever was a right moment, this would be it. “But we should probably consider a different place to meet each other once in a while. Just to keep the others off my case.”

“Oh? What are you suggesting?”

“I heard there’s a new waffle place opening up this weekend, so maybe you would like to see if it’s any good? With me, I mean.” Kaz prepared for the bone-crushing reaction that would follow his offer. You wouldn’t say yes.

“I’d love to.” Saints, he did not expect that.

“It’s a date then?” The words were supposed to be sarcastic, but his brain was just beginning to work through the implications of you agreeing to go out with him.

“It’s a date.”

When he eventually managed to force himself out of the comfort of your flat, he still held the little silver key in his hand, constantly turning it over in his palm. It would take him some time to work through what had just happened. You gave him a key and accepted his clumsy shot at asking you out. The Crows would never let him live that down.

And as if his thoughts had summoned them, they were already expectantly waiting for him at the entrance of the flat building. Jesper was the first to notice the key.

“Please don’t tell me that this is what I think it is.” The corners of his lips were pushed up as high as humanly possible.

“She gave you a key to her flat?” Nina squealed, resisting the urge to engulf him in a hug.

“Voluntarily?” Wylan added in disbelief.

“And I asked her out. Are you all happy now?”

“You did what now?”

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker fluff #grishaverse fanfic #grishaverse x reader #shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #six of crows x reader

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magic-hcs · 1 year

Note

Hello.

Can I ask a bit of an angst scenario?

If their SO dies, who would be able to move on and find love again? Who would prefer to stay single? Who could not take it well?

In this scenario, SO and the skeleton would be more than 15 years together

Of course you can!

It became a bit longer then intended but the others will come soon.

Warnings: angsts, death, mention of alcohol, anger, depression

Time to cast some magic and see what we’ll get!✨

✨✨

(UT)

Sans: Sans will end up in a very depressive dip when you die. But luckily there is Papyrus to help him. He understands the principle of the thing; that you couldn’t stay with him forever and that it was your time to go. But, emotionally and mentally he can’t accept it. It’s *unfair*. Why did you have to leave so suddenly?

No matter how much time has passed, Sans will never take a new partner because you were his only one. Because he is not prepared to love so much and have it ripped from him again.

Papyrus: will be able to move on after some mourning and grieving. Can’t stay and mope about the past, plus that wouldn’t be what you would have wanted for him. He’ll have a picture of you surrounded by some plants or stones or stuff you like inside his home as a little memorial. He will greet that picture of you everyday and sometimes he’ll talk to your picture talking about his day and stuff. It’s a comfort for him and a way to pay respects to you. He definitely talks fondly about you when the topic arises. Stuff like: “THEY USED TO ALWAYS JUMP INTO THE PILE OF LEAVES ONCE I’VE GATHERED THEM ALL. AFTERWARDS THEY WOULD LOOK LIKE A MESS AND I WOULD CHIDE THEM BEFORE THEY’D PULL ME INTO TO LEAF PILE TOO.” It’s his way to treasure the memories of you and to look back at the good times. It feels bittersweet for him, but he likes to think that you’re still watching over him.

Papyrus won’t be looking for a new partner specifically, if it happens then it happens. He won’t ever forget you if it does happen, nor will he ever compare the two of you because each is their own person.

✨✨

(HT)

Bear: won’t be able to move on for the longest time and it’s not because he doesn’t try, he finds it hard to accept. How could his angel, his tiny, be taken away from him when you just got into his life. To Bear 15 years is a long time yet such a short duration of time. His soul aches and he mourns you by shutting down for a while, afterwards begins the crying. He couldn’t look at a picture of you without the sobs wracking his body. Afterwards comes the need to have anything that remains of you close by, pictures, videos, your likes, your dislikes, your stuff, your favorite smells, anything that reminds him of you.

Once he’s semi functional, he’ll still find himself accidentally making your lunch, or find himself talking to you when you are not there.

Bear will not take any partner.

Bean: With Bean it will heavily depend on how you’ve passed away. If you passed away peacefully due to like old age/without regrets then Bean will be able to move on more easily. He’ll thank life for blessing him with you. He is a bit bitter however, because he always thought he would go first, he deserved to go first actually. But he doesn’t let himself wallow in such dark thoughts.

But if you were torn from life too early and or violently then Bean will have more trouble moving on, it’s possible he won’t move on at all. Bean will need a lot of mourning time and time to cool down from his anger, because why did life rip you from him? Why did it skip him? Why did you have to go through such agony? It’s so unfair.

Bean is an old soul, he’s seen a lot and he’s satisfied with you as his partner. Even though you’re gone he doesn’t want any new relationship.

✨✨

(UF)

Red: Oh, Red has it hard. He’s filled with anger, with misery, with hate, with betrayal. He pretty much loses all his progress and regresses almost all the way back to before he left the underground. He drinks his sorrows away, he picks fights, the whole shebang. He’s hurting and he’s desperately trying to hide it, shove it away, throw it out the window, ignore it but it keeps coming back.

It keeps going like this until one day Charon drives him to his bar, which is strange in itself since Charon disapproves that Red keeps getting wasted in bars, but whatever, Red doesn’t care either way. Until he finds out that Charon didn’t drive him to the bar at all, but to a therapist instead. The first time Red just shortcuts away before even getting inside. But Charon is determined. The next time, Charon keeps a hold of him until he’s pushed into the building, and Red shortcuts again. Next time, the therapist greeted him while Charon dragged Red in the building. And the way the therapist looked at him made him feel like a challenge, as if daring to shortcut away again. Which pisses Red off. So he doesn’t shortcut just to prove a point.

He doesn’t talk at all during the first session. The therapist doesn’t talk either after asking if he’s going to say something, sitting there with their hands behind their head. That pissed Red off even more, deciding a personal challenge to try to chase the therapist off. The next session Red started cussing the therapist out, trying to rile them up. It didn’t work.

Next session, he tried getting in their face, tried scaring them, they asked if he was trying to prove something to himself. And that struck something.

The next session, Red started talking a tiny bit, still very aggressive. Slowly opening up bit by bit with each session. Therapy helps quite a lot and he’s slowly returning to the person he was when you were still around. The person you were so proud of. It still hurts, he still can’t find himself to move on. But Red is able to function again.

Red won’t ever take a partner.

Charon: Charon is struggling internally with himself; one side says it’s not his fault, that it’s ok, that it was your time to go and that you were proud of him. The other said he didn’t do enough, hasn’t been good enough. He finds a compromise by finishing any unfinished business you had left behind, fulfilling any last wishes you had written before you went. And after that is finished he can find peace within himself and be able to move on.

Charon will not take a new partner.

✨✨

(SF)

Razzle: After a very long struggle of accepting it and grieving and anger, Razzle is barely able to move on. If you weren’t taken by natural causes then Razzle will blame himself for not protecting and taking care of you enough. He’s able to go through life thanks to his brothers Coal and Mastiff supporting him through this, and a therapist.

He will not take a new partner for you are his only one.

Coal: Coal of course misses you a lot, he misses you every day and looks through your pictures often. But he is grateful for the time and memories he had gotten to spend with you. He draws and sketches you often, and in the beginning he’d often find himself addressing you only to remember you are not there. Despite being mostly able to move on, there are moments where he crawls in his bed, hugging your pillow against himself and starts to weep.

Coal, when given a lot of time, will be able to find a new partner but he won’t search for one. He will never forget you either.

Mastiff: Mastiff feels numb with bursts of anger. He’s going out on the field with his work way more, he’s almost never home anymore, always away for his work as a private detective. Coal and Razzle has to force him to stop overworking himself and refuse to acknowledge that you’re really gone. Because if he’s at home he’ll find the house eerily empty despite Coal and Razzle being there. He’ll find it vacant of your presence, he’ll find his bed devoid of your warmth, of your smell, devoid of you. And it only serves as a heart wrenching reminder that you are gone.

It will be a long time before he manages to become semi functional with Coal’s support.

He will not take a new partner. But he did take a lot of flings, especially in the beginning, desperately trying to get his mind off of you, but it doesn’t work, he only feels shame and is left unsatisfied. Once he worked through his pain some more he’ll stop with the flings, he won’t ever take a new partner though.

✨✨

Thank you for participating in this spell, I hope it was to your satisfaction!

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