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sickuma · 1 year

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SILLAGE — a Simon Riley fic. 2/2

❱ again this was an au first written on tiktok! this will be the last part of it, please keep in mind that it is all fiction and that if you're going through the same thing and are having the same thoughts, please seek someone you trust. Please fight for yourselves, you're worth it ꜝ？ Warning. . this is a heavy angst fic, mentions of suicide and acts of committing, if that is something that triggers bad emotions, please exit the fic.

paring is Ghost x Reader this is unedited! mistakes such as spelling and grammatical errors are to be expected !

Part 1 (^_^;)

SILLAGE — (n.) The scent that lingers in air, the trail left in water, the impression made in space after something or someone has been and gone; the trace of someone's perfume.

—hey [name]? I know I'm the last person you want to hear from right now, but I just really—

There was a short pause, as the voicemail erupts a slight static sound.

—I love you. That should have been enough reason. No, you were enough. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I was cowardly, I figured that you'll be happier and safer, being with someone who isn't me. Someone who isn't a soldier.

It was the same night he left your apartment. He swore to himself he would not come crawling back. To protect both of you, at the time, it had been the best solution for him. Until the midnight strikes, he remembered just how serious you looked, just how accepting you looked.

Too accepting.

—because who knows when one of these missions would finally take me out. I can't let you suffer through that, I can't be the one to give you that kind of grief. So I thought leaving you was the best option.

There was a dire pause as he thought of the best words possible to express himself. He’s never been one to do such, but for you, he’s willing to be better.

—it wasn't.

He spoke desperately, almost shaking from just how much adrenaline rushed through him. He had just argued with the team, and after a long hour of explaining to them what he needed to do, he was finally permitted to bail out on this mission, it’s not like he wouldn't leave without permission, that's how urgent this is for him, he needed to get to you as soon as possible,

Even he doesn't know why he’s in a rush,

Maybe it's because of your silence, the unanswered calls, and unread messages that brought him on edge.

—I love you, far too much, my love, to even think straight without you. I love you so much it's hard to breathe. I so desperately love you to the point it hurts.

The desperation and sincerity. It was all there. He knew if he couldn't let it out now, he won't let it out ever. This was his only chance of being happy.

You were his only chance for happiness. He almost couldn't believe he thought letting you go because of his fear was the best decision.

He stupidly let you go, succumbing to the fear of dying while you wait for him. He knows better, he will do better,

For you. Because you're worth changing for, you're worth the risk.

—please don't hate me. I know I was an ass for leaving in the first place, baby, I am sorry. You loved me so much that it felt so good, I didn't know I'm capable of feeling that way, so I was scared that worse would come after. I'm not scared anymore. You looked at me like there's something in me worth looking at,

He felt like he was saying so much yet so little at the same time,

He had so much to tell you but very few words to express it. He needs to be with you. He needs to see you and physically explain to you just how much you mean to him.

—I won't waste it, love, not again. Please open the door for me when I get back.

He frowned, realizing once again just how idiotic he was. He knew he should not have done what he did, but it was over with. The only thing left to do is to make things right somehow.

—I've never been taught how to love, I have.. I don't— I'm not the best at it. I'm sorry baby, if I'm not loving you the right way, and for leaving just like that, but I promise I'll be better. you're worth the better of me, you're worth learning love for.

He needed you, and you needed him. That should have been enough reason to risk it.

—when I come back, please let me hold you. Please forgive me for making you feel like an option between my job. It's you. It's always been you. I love you, baby, wait for me. I'll make this right.

As the line cuts, the static sound fills the eerie room of yours. The very same room he had walked out from, the same room where you sat breathing hours ago. There were no other living sounds except for the occasional ticking of the clock.

There were no signs nor sounds of life perceived in the room. The silence was thick. With your lifeless body beside the bed in a fetal position, a bottle of used pills tightly wrapped around your hands. It was light, about three to four pills left inside a newly bought bottle.

It was dead silent as if the universe sympathized with you.

Allowing silence in regards to respect for what has passed, for what has ended.

﹑

“My family’s never been the typical joyous family, I guess that affected me, as a person in general.”

You explain, running your hand through his hair while his head laid on your lap. It’s one of those days where he’d be much affectionate compared to the majority of the time. He requested to hear about your childhood while he rests on you,

For a moment you felt your heart and breath hitch.

“I guess growing up in that kind of household really—really influenced my well-being. It's given me problems and worries I shouldn't have.” You were hesitant to continue, “Fear, I started having fears for a lot of things.”It's as if you caught a glimpse of his mind, taking in the details you've just given him.“Fears like?”

The moment the question reached your ears, he could see your body tense. He understood, and he doesn't plan on pushing it.“You don't have to answer that, my love.” he smiles, “No matter what it is you're scared of, let’s face it together, yeah? You have me. That's enough, I hope.”

Little did he know that fear was yet to come. The fear of leaving soon, the fear of being unable to keep going. How could you ever explain to him that you don't plan to stay long?

﹑

With a ragged breath from exhaustion, he dropped his things once again, the same way he did before he left. Facing your door yet again, panting as a feeling of discomfort plagued him, why exactly? He’s finally here. Why is he so distraught, he wondered.

“[name]?” he knocks,

Swallowing the lump in his throat, his voice strained, and his state dishevelled. “[name] please—it’s me, please answer.”

The lack of response made him think about just how angry he made you,

“I'm sorry,” he whispers,

“I know I was stupid and irrational. I won't do it again, petal, please open the door.”

To say he’s nervous would be an understatement. What would he do if you never find it in you to let him back into the comfort of your arms? Will he return to the familiar cold he had forgotten when he met you?

“[name] I love you.”

He desperately spoke, yearning for an answer; the smallest sign of acceptance.

It was odd. How quiet it was. Are you that mad? He wonders, but then again, he knew you’re not one to ignore, not even when you’re the angriest you've been. You would never shut him out, not ever. “[name], please, answer, or I'll have to go inside.”

“Baby are you okay?” no response.

Each passing second was like a countdown. He was uneasy and distraught. Afraid even.

The silence felt deafening. He was afraid of what? He had no clue what he was so afraid of, surely you're okay...

Right?

“[name], I'm coming in,” he says sternly, fishing the spare key he oh so gratefully forgot to give back. His heart thumps louder with each action.

The moment he entered, the creak of the door interrupted the silence. He felt like he was intruding on an abandoned space. It felt wrong. He knew something was wrong.

“[name]? I'm back, like—like I always am.” his voice broke, stepping inside, head looking around, hoping to find you and engulf you in his longing arms. “As I told you, I’ll always find my way back… right?”

He kept speaking while he walked, checking and opening every door. Starting from the small kitchen to the bathroom, checking everywhere until there was one room left. He dreaded it, for no reason he was scared and yet he rushed,

He spoke, no—he goes on a tangent,

“I'll take the month off. We’ll do anything you want, anything to make up for this. I promise we can even get a pet, I always say no, right? This time, I'll agree, anything for you, my love just—”

The silence rung,

Apart from the sound of the door opening by his force, there were no sounds made, not from him, not from anything. He simply stood, dumbfounded at what the room unveiled; at that moment, nothing mattered, not even the breath he had held unknowingly.

A ragged chuckle escaped his lips, though it was hollow. As if he was desperate to know that maybe this is all some sick prank. Maybe this was one of your silly games he always put up with, “Baby? What’s this? Why are you on the floor?”

“Jokes over [name] get up—”

When it all came to view, he was silenced. The second he stepped closer, he saw how your body lay lifeless, how you held that bottle, and how his eyes drifted onto the lone tear, which evidently dried along the hours.

How long have you been here?

In this state? How long has it been since you left him?

He couldn't feel. He couldn't grasp his head around the sight before him. He’s well familiar with death. He’s seen it before, and he’s lost comrades before, but nothing comes close to what lay in front of him.

How does one react when their lifeline lies lifeless before their very eyes?

He couldn't approach nor speak. He simply stood with weak knees, tempting to give out. It didn't take him long to crouch, eyes wide open with lips parted slightly. There were no tears, no emotions, the moment numbed him. It didn't feel like reality,

There he crouched, just a few steps away from you. It didn't feel like his heart dropped. It felt almost worse, as if you'd taken it with you. How could this have happened? Did he cause this?

If you had told him a day ago that he would witness the person he loved the most laying on the floor devoid of life, he would have laughed at your face, punching you even. This isn't reality. This isn't a reality he wants to face.

It took every courage in his body to bring himself closer to you, afraid of what more he’d discover. With slow steps, he drew closer, grabbing your hand was the first thing he thought of doing. “Oh god…” his voice broke,

Your body isn't as warm as it used to be,

Not as he remembered. The warmth he loved when he would hold you against him, it’s gone. You're gone.

He had felt countless of stiff lifeless bodies and yet yours hurt the most,

The mere thought of it destroyed him. It hasnt sinked in yet, but he could tell. He could tell his demise is near. The realization will hit him in a short while.

“Baby, im home…” this wasn't him. This was not his voice. Stuttering over the easiest words, strained with pent-up sobs. His chest felt heavy, almost making it difficult to breathe.

Yet with hitched breath, he picked up your limp body and placed you in his arms, crushing your icy body against him. He held you tightly, but his hands cradled your body tenderly. It was as if he’s afraid of hurting you more.

Ghost was forever fearless, always facing whatever challenge was given to him, even his mortal enemy would know that he isnt necessarily the easiest solder to crack, let alone destroy and yet he finds himself sat on the floor holding the lifeless frame of his lover,

Cradling whatever is left of you,

Desperately holding onto what he can possibly hold on to.

The lieutenant everyone looked up on, admired and viewed as an admirable man, sat on the floor with a weighing heart. Holding back the tears that had formed without his knowledge as he held your body,

but right now, he wasn't lieutenant simon ‘ghost’ riley.

At this moment, he was just simon, the simon you loved desperately, the simon who loved you just as insanely.

This person right this moment was your simon,

He wasnt anyone else, he was yours.

As he sat on the hard cold floor, thoughts roaming with his heart screaming, he felt like a mess, but that didn't matter. Words can not describe the regret, remorse, and stupidity he felt,

If i didnt leave,

If i didn't walk out that door,would you still have been alive in my arms?Would i still have to hold you soulless?

He held you closer, bringing you closer to him, as close as possible. He felt nothing but regret, nothing but anger for himself. Why is it that the very grief he tried to protect you from, the same reason he left, the same grief he avoided you to feel, why is it that he’s feeling it now?

His ragged sobs filled the room, and the rest remained still as if everything sympathized for him. As if the world understood the hurt he carried. He sobs, holding onto you as if doing so would bring you back. He knew nothing well, and yet he foolishly cried, hoping you’ll hear him and come back to ease the pain.

Like you always did.

At the corner of his eyes, he saw the letters piled not far from them. Without standing, nor letting go of you, he reached for it. Reading the names addressed on each, until he sees the one for him.

Of all the few letters he saw, his was the only one with tear drops which ruined the ink in front, almost unable to read, he brought it closer, dropping the rest.

Simon,

I felt everything.

Thank you, and im sorry,

I love you :)

Swallowing the impossibly heavy lump on his throat, he opened the carefully folded letter. He was met with even more tear drops. The thought of you crying, alone, while you write him a letter to bid him goodbye, crushed his soul.

He cant imagine a greater pain,

It felt surreal.

How could I..

How could I have lost you this easily.

With his blurry vision, he starts to read—well—attempt to. With every sentence, every punctuation, every meaning of your words, all of it felt like a slap to reality.

How could he have not seen?

How did he not notice? Not paying attention to what you were going through? How could he have been so careless as to leave you all alone.

The very fear you spoke of,

He did just exactly what your family had done.

If anybody could have saved me,

it would have been you.

He read the part over and over again, allowing your words to cut through his heart repeatedly. He left you, and yet, at the end of the day, you still see him as someone—the only one who could save you.

Despite the war inside your mind,

Inside your mind and unwavering emotions, which he hadn't bothered to unveil, he remained the most important person.

May it be in your chaotic mind or the furthest crevices of your heart, he remained on both.

He read it all,

Understanding every single thing you failed to say in person,

Everything you failed to say while you still lived.

It hurts even more. He thought nothing could be more painful when he saw you laying lifeless. But having to read what you wanted to say,

How sorry you were, how thankful you are to him, and how he made you feel.

It was surely another cut to an already existing wound. His mind flashed memories while he went over the tear stained letter you left.

He remembered everything as if they were as fresh as yesterday. When you first smiled at him, when you first held hands, when your lips first touched.

Your words were true. The story of you really is short-lived. But he couldn't help but think about the what If's

If he stayed,

If he hadn't walked out,

If he ignored his fear of abandoning you,

If he hadn't been so stupid and cowardly.

He gave up, and the heavy lump on the throat overcame him, letting the sting linger for as long as eternity. He read the last words on the letter, with a loud sob, with repeated pleads.

Repeatedly apologising, repeatedly begging for you to come back so he could fix things so everything could return to normal,

So you could return.

A childish wish. A high-ranking soldier held the lifeless body of his lover all while he begs for them to come back.

"I'm so sorry." He whispers, voice too broken to speak normally. "I'm sorry for not noticing."

"I'm sorry you had to be alone."

"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He repeats over and over again, holding you against him.

At the back of the letter, he could barely see the words written with how blurry the tears clouded his eyes.

Thank you for making me feel.

The words only crushed him even more, sobbing and crying harder to no avail.

"[name]..." He whispers, holding you close. "Did it hurt? I'm sorry, it must have been so hard."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm so sorry for not being here you."

He apologized, wishing he could have been with you. To convince you otherwise, wishing he could have been here to avoid this,

To avoid losing you.

Wishing he could have stayed to keep making you feel.

The thoughts of your words before he left suddenly entered his mind,

"Can I hug you?"

"One last time?"

Now it all makes sense why you looked so serene, why you looked so accepting. Why did you have that small smile on your lips,

You were bidding him goodbye.

That really was the final hug.

The final touch he'd ever get, the final living affection he would get from you.

He holds you now, but it wasn't the same, not even close. Back then, you were smiling and breathing, but now you're no different to an inanimate object. Stiff and cold, this is the person he loved so dearly?

It ached.

And it ached painfully.

The type of ache to never go away, the type of ache he'd keep forever.

The type of ache he'll willingly embrace,

As he held you that night, mourning for what could've been, mourning for someone beyond saving.

This was the ache he'd willingly feel forever,

If it means having you in his mind and heart. He would willingly hurt himself by keeping that ache if it means keeping you in his deceased heart forever.

As the remnant of your memories roamed the room, your presence which now passed, the scent of yours he dearly craved. It left a sillage pain to remember,

You left a sillage worth remembering.

"I'll keep you in my heart,

Even if that damage me,

Even if it kills me.

I'll keep you safe forever."

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uncouth-the-fifth · 5 months

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good morning, charlie - Leon Kennedy/Reader

read it on Ao3.

Pairing: Agent!Leon/Detective!Wife!Reader Tags: domestic fluff with the tiniest dustings of background angst, married life, hugging, kissing, and snuggling. Words: 3k (yes, I'm capable of keeping something this short) Notes: read this in a WWE announcer voice: THAT'S RIGHT! UNCOUTH HAS COME CRASHING BACK INTO THE RING AFTER YET ANOTHER MONTHS-LONG HIATUS. i'm magical, truly. here is the first Leon fic I promised last month! There's so much I want to say about this little drabble, but I'll save that for my curious ppl on Ao3. this is going to be a big 180 from my spn content, and I sincerely hope that's okay with the public 😭 for my RE people: enjoy domestic Leon bullshit!

At two in the morning, Washington D.C. is pouring everything it has into crafting the coziest atmosphere of all time. A pleasant window-tapping storm had rolled in right around when you resolved to stay up working. Some late-night radio host is making soft, fizzing chatter in the next room, and coupled with a stellar view of the city from fancy floor-to-ceiling windows, you have a prime opportunity to pass the fuck out.

Unfortunately, you have made some spectacular life choices that don’t mix well with a full night’s rest. Nope, no sleep for you. Despite all of fate’s attempts to stop you from being a cop, (including throwing a city-wide outbreak at you on your first day), you are still here, gripping your job with both hands. At two in the damn morning.

Since scrubbing your eyes hadn’t woken you up the first five times you tried it, you give it another shot as you pace the length of your living room rug—from the coffee table you’ve stacked with files, then back to the whiteboard pasted top-to-bottom with pictures of missing young women. The whiteboard had been Leon’s idea. After the fourth time you’d transformed a flattened cardboard box into a morbid case-board for work, he’d cajoled you into letting him buy one for the apartment.

But I won’t be able to stab the tacks into it, you’d pouted.

Oh, the agony, your husband had drawled. He was a master of delivering a good, dry look.

You’d propped your fists on your hips and tried your best to look serious. The red yarn connecting everything isn’t just a detective-movie thing, y’know! It’s actually really useful. And I need my tacks to stick the yarn in—

Leon had cut cleanly through your building sass with another look, this time one glimmering with humor. Then I’ll get you magnetic ones, detective. Don’t you use whiteboards at the precinct anyway?

You’d grumbled. Because, yes, you did use whiteboards at the station, and they did have the little tacks with the magnets on the bottom. But you’d refused to deal with Leon being all smug (he was unbearable pretty when he was right), and had teased back instead, Whatever, nerd. Why don’t you and the other two angels go call Charlie already?

The reference had gone clean over Leon’s head. Of course, he hated being left out of a joke, so he’d roped you over by your wrist and pinched an explanation out of you until you were squealing with giggles.

Summarizing Charlie’s Angels to Leon had been a lot like offering a paper rocketship to an aerospace engineer. But, hey, picturing him running around in skimpy outfits and escaping action movie explosions on a motorcycle is a whole lot more fun than… than the real deal.

You don’t want to think about what his missions are really like. Not that you’re even allowed to know in the first place. Being Leon’s wife permits you a government-issued phone with his handler’s number, and on antsy days you can push Ingrid for details if you want. But after so long you’ve learned it only hurts both of you—for her, in the inability to answer, and for you, in the excruciating pain of being unable to know. Where is he? That’s classified.

She can’t always tell you when he’s coming home, either. So much of your life is hinged on her check-ins, and even more is forced to live off a simple, He’s okay.

For the seventh time, you scrub at your tired eyes and suck in a deep breath. You’d gotten that fabled text from Hunnigan—he’s okay—earlier today, and like always you crawled through the rest of your shift roiling with anticipation, waiting for Leon to materialize back into your life.

You force your gaze back to the whiteboard, littered with notes and pictures hung up with magnetic tacks. The faces of five missing women bore back. The ten-ton weight of your caseload slams down in full, and again, you scold yourself for floating back into comforting memories of your husband. These girls have lost all comfort in the world since they were taken. Your Captain gave you the responsibility of finding them, and after all you’ve been through, after all the other cases you’ve closed, there can’t be any room for failure. Think.

Your legs ache from being on your feet all day, chasing leads, but dropping into Leon’s armchair for even an instant will just have you nodding off again. More pacing it is, then. This is your pattern for the next half-hour: pace, re-read witness statements, turn, sip your coffee, pace, cross-reference alibis. He’s okay. Two of the girls were taken from Queen’s Chapel, two from Takoma, one from Woodridge. He’s fine. The last victim breaks the profile. What’s different about her? Why take her? Think think think— You know what Leon would do. He was the kind of person you could put in front of a problem, and no matter what he would find a way to shoulder his way through. With physical force, sure, but mental force too. He would sit and just look at the puzzle, and sheer willpower would lead him to some kind of answer. But you’d been pushing and pushing for days now, pursuing every lead, pressing every witness, yet nothing will give. The whole thing feels like a punching bag you’re beating at over and over again, knuckles raw and bloody—

Keys rattle just outside the front door.

First the big deadbolt scrapes open, unlatching with a heavy thud, and that sound alone is enough to shock you awake. More than any coffee could. Then comes the doorknob. Leon hasn’t even turned his key before you’ve twisted the lock open, yanked the door out of your way, and sent it whipping into the jamb with his keyring still swinging from its slot. You give him one full blink to register that it’s you before you’re throwing yourself on him without a single lick of shame, legs and all.

Of course, Leon bears your weight with grace. He grunts out an oof! when you come in for landing, and the living, breathing sound drains into one gruff laugh. You’re scooped up under the thighs and teddy bear squeezed against him. He reeks of cheap motel soap and something faintly coppery—then mint, a whole world of plush, wet spearmint when he nudges your face up with his nose and lays a hello kiss on you. The taste of his gum and the scratch of his stubble on your chin make your skin feel like it’s fizzing, inside-burning-out, every inch of you stood on end by his static charge. Jesus, this guy. He feels like fucking magic, and you’re confident that the laws of physics don’t quite apply around him. Everything in the room, in the too-big apartment that’s painfully empty without him in it, tilts toward Leon.

You shove your face nose-first into his neck and clutch the back of his jacket in both fists. Swallowing hard, you manage, “Hey, angel.”

“Good morning, Charlie,” Leon says.

If you had any resolve for today left in you at all, the wash of his sizzling butter voice would squash the last of it. You’d been trying to be sweet, but your husband has to be funny about fucking everything, of course. Even after weeks spent apart. You love him so fucking much.

“Don’t tell me you found time to watch that stupid movie.” Your voice is muffled by his coat, and you’re grateful for an excuse to hide.

You’re moving. Leon carries you inside, his wedding band pressing into your leg and his other big, warm hand spooned around your back. “Boring plane ride. I wanted to get your jokes.”

Your front door is toed shut, and with all the efficient maneuvering of a proper agent, Leon gets the place locked up behind you. Somewhere in all the commotion he’d dropped his go-bag by the welcome mat, and you hear the dramatic thunk, thunk, of his fancy work loafers being kicked off beside it. Only then does he slip you onto your own feet again.

Your hands slide down his arms as you make contact with the floor. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’re aware that he’s damp from the rain, but that fact hangs in the little alternate universe he’s made in your front hall. Standing there and being able to look at him straight-on, Leon doesn’t feel real. It’s like your constant thoughts of him have manifested a ghost in his shape, mimicking the smiley rookie you remember.

He greets you with a quiet, beaten-down smile, and you understand immediately that the world has thrown its fair share of punches at him, too. You’ve both had a shit week. The Kennedy surname just brims with good luck, huh?

Your hands work on autopilot as you take him in, slipping under the fabric of his jacket and lingering over his thudding heart. His warm blue gaze swims over your face, and you can almost hear the clicking mechanisms in his head as he forces himself out of operative mode and into home mode by looking at you.

“It’s a really bad movie,” you say, choked up.

Leon’s jacket hits the floor with his shoes. There’s a swath of ugly, purpling bruises crawling up his bare arm, old enough to be greening at the edges, and your stomach churns when you see it.

He taps your chin up, pulling you away from the damage and back on him. His voice rolls over you like bourbon in a glass. “Absolutely. So-bad-it’s-good, even. We should watch it, make fun of it together. Like, why the hell does…”

Leon flawlessly falls into an analysis of the movie’s poorly-written espionage elements. The movie you made one offhand joke about several weeks ago, mind you. He’s pulling at straws, saying whatever the hell comes to mind to make you laugh, so exhausted he’s literally swaying on his feet. You can’t believe he’s trying to distract you with something so trivial, but this is your husband. One flash of that weary closed-mouth smile, one brush of those callused hands down your wrists, and your whole world resumes its orbit around him.

You laugh at the jokes he’s obviously crafted for your benefit, a weak chuckle your heart isn’t in. With his hands looped around your wrists, he guides your arms around his neck and welcomes you back into the toasty bubble of his touch. Leon’s even warmer from being tucked underneath his coat. Pure goodness and safety glows off him like a fucking nuclear reactor, and it dawns on you that you haven’t felt safe at all since he left. Anyone can be plucked off the streets here.

One more scratchy kiss and then he’s leading you deeper into your apartment. No one on Earth would believe that he’s a chatty guy, but he talks the whole way through. Too often he’s left to sit in his own mind on missions, and you’re treated to two week’s worth of his backlog in the next ten minutes. All the little things he wanted to say to you. The streams of smart-mouth commentary he was famous for at the academy are all inner monologue now, but you’re confident the Leon radio show still runs twenty four hours a day. He chatters so much in his head that it slips out of him like water sometimes—

“…that close to an explosion would disintegrate you, but fuck physics I guess—“ Leon interrupts his own flow of thought to squint at you. “Quit looking at me like that. It’s unfair how pretty you are when you’re tired. What was I—not like the laws of physics apply to that movie anyway, but…”

—and you’re stupidly charmed by it. He talks to comfort himself, and because the two of you are one unit, one person to him, he does the same for you.

With your hand tethered in his, he clicks off the radio in the kitchen. One of Leon’s side-stories replaces the random late-night station that’d been playing, floating over the din of the rain like bass over relaxing drums. He pours out the dregs of your coffee. He closes the files full of gruesome crime scene photos on your coffee table, and you watch, barely able to keep your head up, as he flips your whiteboard over to its blank side. You’ll get his second opinion on the case tomorrow.

Leon sweeps the place with you in tow, and once the security system’s armed and you’re almost sagging against him, the lights come off. Though you’ve had plenty of time to adjust to the Leon that returned home from training, you’ll never get used to the little alien ticks it’s given him. He navigates to your bedroom in complete blackness. He avoids the creaky floorboard just outside your door without seeing, deathly silent. The broad presence of him looms in the dark.

One wall of the bedroom is nothing but paneled glass, throwing a long square of dark blue moonlight over your rumpled comforter. While the view of the Potomac and Capital Hill is stellar from up here, you’ve always felt out of place among the things Leon’s generous salary has earned the two of you: a flat with a private elevator in the nice part of town, fresh-off-the-press sports cars, a getaway cabin up north. So much of it you end up enjoying by yourself. It only ever feels worth it when he’s here, smacking his elbow into the digital wall-panel that controls your A/C.

“—s’ supposed to be a touch screen,” he sidebars himself for the tenth time. Softer, Leon adds, “Brush your teeth. I’ll be right there.”

You rope your arms around his middle and press your face into the heart of his back, careful of the bruises he’s doing his best to hide. “Wanna wait for you.”

Leon doesn’t protest. There’s more little beeps as he screws with the temperature of your mattress or something, deciding, “We live in a damn spaceship. Are we too good for plain old-fashioned buttons now?”

Apparently you are, since old man Leon fails to figure out how to crank the heat up. You let him play with it for a little while longer (it’s not his fault he’s rarely home), and then intervene with a few quick taps when things get dire. The heater hums to life under the floor a beat later, and he turns in your grip to scoff, mystified by your vast and incredible knowledge.

“My smart girl,” he hums.

Just that is enough to chip off a piece of your strength. Had he said that to you over the phone, a million miles away in god-knows-where, your knees would buckle. He is the only one who talks to you like that—with so much simple, uncomplicated love. Too tired to put your thoughts into words, you flatten a hand over his heart and kiss the sun-freckled nape of his neck.

“Clingy,” Leon mutters. You’re pretty sure it’s supposed to sound dry and funny, another one of his jokes. But then he’s smoothing both of his palms down your arms in two long handsy swaths, and the gesture tells you everything about just how clingy he’s feeling, too.

His stories make getting ready for bed an even slower affair. You couldn’t mind if you wanted to. As you help him out of his starchy dress-shirt button by button, he surprises you with a rare explanation of where he’s been for the last weeks. The UK. Truly, your husband is the special secret agent to end all special secret agents: he talks around his job as if it was a bump he’d hit on the way home, entertaining you instead with his Leon-ified vision of London. Touristy as shit. Loud as shit. Smelled like shit.

“Just like DC,” he chuckles, and then a second time when your fluffy head pops through the collar of the sleep shirt he’s dressing you in.

It’s too much rough, cinnamon spice laughter for one woman to stand. You duck away to brush your teeth and groan into your palms like a schoolgirl over him, but sure enough, Leon trails you, fingers chasing the hem of your shirt (his shirt) in a sleepy daze. He always keeps you in view. Nervous, maybe, to have you out of his sight.

This tradition continues when the two of you crawl into bed. Your eyes have adjusted to the darkness, and so has your body, able to sense him on the stupidly expensive mattress beside you. He thinks you can’t tell, but his gaze roves over you again and again—down your back when you flop face-first into the plush bedding, over the slope of your shoulder when you wiggle under the covers. Leon draws you into the glorious halo of his body heat with a gentle hand on your belly. If you could bottle this feeling, the whole world would be sick and stupid for him in hours. Minutes even.

You feel so safe that the word doesn’t even come to mind. Just vague, peaceful shapes of things you know, home, sleep, cologne, cozy. His work-rough palm with his body-warm wedding band slips under your tee to sweep over your ribs. Then comes Leon’s face, just on the right side of stubbly as he shoves it between your shoulder blades without a single lick of shame. The breath he takes of you is so heavy that his whole frame shudders with it, top to bottom.

You remember how you’d burrowed into his jacket the second he got home and think, You are me and I am you. We’re always on the same page.

With that, the stage is set. DC’s faraway glittering cityscape lights up all the raindrops on your window, and you watch them run as the two of you melt into one another. Leon’s warm breaths slow across your neck. Time for you to deliver your line.

You wet your lips and murmur into your pillow, “Do you want to talk about your mission?”

Legally, he can’t say yes. Government secrets, bureaucracy, yadda yadda. Leon isn’t always emotionally ready to crack open a coffin he’s just finished sealing, either, but while it is his job to close your case files for the night, you’re his wife. You’re the only person who can knock on that door. With how little choice he has left in his life, you try to give him options whenever you can. Regardless, you know the man you married—strong-willed on a mythical fucking level, and just as self-sacrificing. He’ll always try to spare you.

Sure enough, Leon says, “Tomorrow. Do you want to talk about your case?”

You shake your head at him, exhausted to the point of dizziness. “Tomorrow.”

A tender kiss is pressed to the nape of your neck, and the whole world goes silent for the perfect, husky whisper you’ve ached to hear. You feel his wry smile against your skin. “We’re always on the same page, baby.”

#leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy/reader #resident evil #resident evil four #re4 remake #leon kennedy drabble #uncouthre

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justwinginglife · 2 months

Text

The Unwitting Confession

Inspired by my bestie @ectopodl3, thanks for always matching my freak, love ya!

It had been roughly 6 months since Soshiro Hoshina joined the Third Division as its Vice Captain and it was an eventful 6 months to say the least. Everyone had been clambering over each other to get a good look at the new Vice Captain and even now they were still on the fence about what they saw. The poor guy had to fight twice as hard as anyone else to prove he deserved the spot and some people still required more evidence from him. For 6 long months, he took on whatever grueling task he could get his hands on to show the world that he was more than capable to lead a division. And for 6 long months, you were right there in the trenches beside him.

You had been both Captain Ashiro's favorite platoon leader and close personal friend for awhile now, so when she had made the decision to invite Hoshina to the Third Division, you fully supported it (in fact, you were the only one who supported it). Because of this, she relied heavily on you to help him transition into his new role.

You made quite the impression on him from day one. You knew everyone else would be skeptical of him and Mina was counting on you to make him feel comfortable, so you went a little overboard in welcoming him. That day, he arrived at his new office to find his desk covered in all manner of drinks- coffee, juice, milk, water, smoothie, soda. You had just placed the final can on his desk when he came in looking quite shocked. You rubbed the back of your head sheepishly. "Well this is certainly one way to meet you Vice Captain," you laughed. "I couldn't figure out what kind of drink you liked so I bought them all." You gestured to the gifts you'd laid out for him.

You thought he would just keep staring at you all day like some strange circus attraction but then to your surprise, he started laughing uncontrollably. His eyes filled with tears and he even had to steady a hand on the doorframe to keep himself from toppling over from the sheer exertion of laughing so hard. "You better help me finish all of this." He said, finally catching his breath, "Hey- what's your name anyway?"

So, despite Mina having drawn up an entire itinerary she had wanted you to follow on his first day (give him a tour, introduce him to the other officers, yada yada), you and Hoshina ended up spending the entire time just talking and drinking in his office.

"Ooh- this one's pretty good, have a sip." You passed the lemonade over to him and he eagerly took it from you.

"Mmm, I like it but the coffee was better." He said as he chugged the drink. "Fuck, now I have to pee." He laughed.

"Hey! I wasn't finished drinking that!" You pouted, watching as he added the empty can to the stack of other empty cans.

He shrugged. "It was my gift, wasn't it?"

"I'm gonna have Mina demote you. I'm thinking cadet."

He laughed again and the feeling in your chest told you the sound was starting to grow on you.

"Please be my guest, I think everyone would be happier if I wasn't the Vice Captain anyway." He said, speaking the first serious thing you'd heard him say all day.

You nudged him with your shoulder. "I wouldn't. You're actually growing on me, Vice Captain. Even if you are a lemonade hog."

There was that laugh of his again. "How 'bout this? I'll make you a deal. I'll stay Vice Captain and I'll bring you a lemonade every now and then if you promise to follow all my orders."

You rolled your eyes and nudged him again, this time leaning into his shoulder. "Now where's the fun in that? I think you'd have such a good time running around trying to keep up with me, why would I want to spoil that for you?"

He grinned and you thought you felt your heart skip a beat. "Alright I think you really oughta show me the bathroom now before you go telling anymore jokes. I can't laugh anymore than I already have without bursting my bladder." He stood up from the floor where you two had been sitting, brushed up against each other, and held a hand out to you. You took it and he hoisted you to your feet.

"I'm supposed to give you a tour anyway so I guess we can start with the bathroom. Wouldn't want the new Vice Captain to pee his pants."

You both took off down the hallway, knocking your shoulders up against each other, and swaying with laughter.

And that was that- friends in an instant.

If people had seen the two of you from afar, they would've thought you'd been friends since birth the way you two were inseparable after that. You wanted to train? Hoshina would follow right behind, eager to knock you down a peg. He wanted to go for a walk? You'd say there's no way in good conscious you could let a little lady like him walk alone so late at night. He'd punch in you in the arm but let you tag along anyway. You wanted to have dinner alone? Too bad- he wanted a bite of your dumpling. No, actually he wanted all of your dumplings. But he bought you some more afterwards.

You'd even have your fair share of arguments- you may have brought up his brother too much (only because you were so curious about his home life) and he may have shot back that the reason you'd been single so long was because you did dumb insensitive shit like bringing up his brother too much. And then you wouldn't speak to each other for days. But then you'd cut yourself and he'd bandage it for you, grumbling that it was inconceivable how a member of the defense force could be so inept with a knife, or his stomach would growl and you'd grumpily hand him your last granola bar, and then everything would slowly go back to normal between you two again. It was all the little things that made you realize you couldn't live without him. And some part of him had to know he couldn't live without you too. Not anymore.

So now, 6 months later, you're on your way to work, texting Hoshina that you bet you'll beat his lazy ass there, and then you see a crowd of news reporters outside the base. Mina had just sent you and Hoshina to dispatch of a large kaiju roaming downtown yesterday and the reporters couldn't believe that he'd took down the beast and not you so they were there for the "real answers." You were so tired of dealing with all the people who couldn't accept how amazing Hoshina was. For months, you talked with reporters, officers, supervisors, and really just anyone who'd listen about how skilled and inspiring Hoshina was but all your effort had been slow to take effect.

Eventually Hoshina caught on that you were fighting all his battles for him behind the scenes and he made you stop. He was so pure and good, he thought he'd just change their minds with his actions. Said he'd win them over eventually if he worked hard enough. It was that kind of thinking that made you love him and made you all the more pissed to hear people shit talking him.

So today, you're fully prepared to tear the crowd a new one (yet again), when you hear a voice from behind you. "Boy they really don't know when to quit do they? It's like, just leave the man alone."

You turn to see a civilian walking up to you, scoffing at the crowd. You're both shocked and pleasantly surprised that someone besides you is defending Hoshina. You nod enthusiastically. "Yeah, it's like he's done so much for the city and you want to undermine all of that? It's ridiculous."

The civilian nods. "I was there when he took down that kaiju yesterday, I know he's the real deal. The two of you actually make a pretty good team- are you guys dating?"

You choke on your coffee. "Oh, um, us? No we're- we're not together." You say quickly.

The civilian raises an eyebrow. "So you're telling me you don't find that muscled man attractive? Not in the slightest?"

You blush. "I really shouldn't be talking with you about this. I barely know you."

The civilian laughs. "Oh come on. Woman to woman. Don't tell me you haven't thought about what it would be like."

You sigh. You haven't told anyone how you feel about the Vice Captain, not even Mina. It would be nice to vent it all out. And this is a stranger you'll never see again. Fuck it. "Okay fine. I am completely in love with him but that's a secret okay? Who wouldn't be in love with the guy? He's strong, he's handsome, he's loyal, he's funny, he's dedicated, he steals my food but then he replaces it. I mean he's a catch all around. I just really wish people could see him the way I see him. He's a great guy who really cares about people, and that's all there is to it." You shrug as if you're simply reciting a textbook with common knowledge, but inside you're a simple woman who's dying to hear this random civilian tell you more about how you make such a good couple with Hoshina. But this bonding moment is interrupted. By Hoshina.

He's up ahead, across the street from you, and he's yelling and waving at you to hurry up and cross already so you can walk to work together. You excuse yourself, earning a wink and a "go get him tiger" from the stranger, and you run through traffic blushing as you greet him.

"What was that about?" He asks, pointing at the now fading silhouette of the stranger you had just been talking to.

You grin. "Oh nothing- I just met a fan of yours, that's all."

You arrive at work a couple minutes later, Hoshina still demanding for more answers about this so-called fan of his, unaware he even had fans, when suddenly you're greeted at the door by Captain Ashiro herself. She never greets you at the door. And she does not look happy. She looks... constipated? Stressed? You can't quite figure out what face she's making but you realize the face she's making is for you when she finally pulls you into her office and slams the door behind her, shoving her phone at you.

"Mina, Mina what is it, you're scaring me- oh SHIT."

I am completely in love with him but that's a secret okay? Who wouldn't be in love with the guy? He's strong, he's handsome, he's loyal, he's funny, he's dedicated, he steals my food but then he replaces it. I mean he's a catch all around. I just really wish people could see him the way I see him. He's a great guy who really cares about people, and that's all there is to it... to it....that's all there is to it...

You stare at the video of you that's playing on repeat. Notifications flood the phone as you realize you're now going viral with your secret love confession for the Vice Captain.

You think your cheeks might be on fire and your throat is rapidly going dry. You think you might just die. Then it hits you.

"Oh. Oh no. Oh no no no. Where's Hoshina's phone? Mina, please tell me he hasn't looked at his phone yet. Oh I know- you distract him, I'll break into his phone, I'm sure I have to know the password by now- you know what, I'll just break his phone. Yeah. Then he won't have access to the internet. All will be fixed. Mina? You in?" You trail off as you realize she's looking at the door to her office that's now just opened behind you.

Fuck.

"You wanna tell me what this is about?"

Fuck.

Mina winces. "I think I'll leave you two alone now." She closes the door behind her.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You don't turn around. You don't breathe. You don't exist.

"You can't ignore me forever, ya know."

Fuck.

You sigh. You slowly turn around to face your doom.

"Hi. Hoshina. What's up?"

He rolls his eyes. "Don't 'what's up' me, what's up with you? What's up with this?" He holds his phone up with the video that's on replay. I am completely in love with him, but that's a secret okay? I am completely in love with him, but that's a secret okay?

You groan and collapse into Mina's office chair, burying your face in your hands, waiting to die. "Go on. Say what you want." You mumble through your fingers.

You hear him walking up to you and before you have time to think about how mortified you are, he kneels on the ground in front of you and yanks your wrists away from your face. "I want to know if it's true."

You roll your eyes. "Did you not just hear my voice on the video saying I love you? Do you really need to rub it in and hear me say it live?"

He nods sincerely, giving your wrists a squeeze. "I do. I need to hear you say it. I don't care about the news, what I care about is you and right now I need to know how you feel."

You inhale and for a moment you consider not exhaling and just passing out to avoid answering. But then you let out the breath. "It's true. I love you. I've been in love with you. For awhile now."

He smiles softly as if to say everything is okay now and you're lost in the gentle curve of his lips. God you want to taste kiss him so bad.

"Well I'd say I love you too but I don't know if I need a reporter in the room for it to count."

Never mind. You don't want to kiss him anymore. You punch his arm.

He chuckles.

Then he pulls you down to the floor with him and the two of you sit there for a moment, shoulder to shoulder, just like you did when you first met. Then he nudges his head up against your shoulder and whispers, "I really do love you."

And now you kiss him.

#kaiju no. 8 #soshiro hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader #oneshot #fluff #hoshina #hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #anime #anime fanfic

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a-dauntless-daffodil · 3 months

Text

Vaggie: "I'll go to the next Heaven meeting only if I get to be your un-filter."

Charlie: "My un-filter?"

Vaggie: "Your anger concentrate."

Charlie: "I'm not angry!"

Vaggie: "Sweetie."

Charlie: "Well SAYING I'm angry won't make anything better SO-"

Vaggie: "It'd make me feel better."

Charlie: ".... you won't threaten to kill anyone."

Vaggie: "Literally? No."

Charlie: "You won't bring your spear?"

Vaggie: "Words will be my only weapon I promise."

Charlie: "And you'll sit right next to me and we'll pull our chairs close enough so we're touching and you'll hold my hand whenever I'm not making a dramatic gesture or holding up a sample drawing so I don't get up and strangle anyone?"

Vaggie: "I'll be glued to your side."

Charlie: "Okay, then-"

Vaggie: "Like one of Niffty's petrified bug victims who slowly starved to death on a adhesive strip just out of reach of food and water-"

Charlie: "UM."

Vaggie: "-sorry, still mentally scarred from that."

Vaggie: "I'll be glue to you like, uh, frosting on a... cupcake?"

Charlie: "Or you can just sit next to me as Vaggie, my partner." (hugs gf) "I like you best like that~"

Vaggie: "Well that's me always. My favorite place and thing to be, too."

Charlie: "Then this next meeting is going to go AMAZINGLY."

-the meeting-

Charlie: "-now! Seraphim Sera, regarding your choice to start the exterminations in the first place-"

Sera: "I-"

Vaggie: "This is all your fault, dumbass, and everyone knows it."

Charlie: "-despite you delegating the ACTUAL, um, fulfillment of your Hell population reduction quotas to Adam and his Exorcists, and your hands off approach to overseeing the management of said Exorcists, he WAS still acting under YOUR authority-"

Sera: "You-"

Vaggie: "There's blood on your heavenly hands, even if you're too much of a coward to ever see it there."

Charlie: "-considering the physical and emotional damage and SCARS that said actions left on at least ONE former Exorcist, introducing Vaggie as exhibit A-"

Sera: "This is hardly relevant to-"

Vaggie: "Talk about heaven being a lie huh? Not even an angel gets a trial before damnation."

Charlie: "-I, and my father, we would be strongly in favor of you PERSONALLY taking over direct leadership of the surviving Exorcists, rather than leaving them in the hands of Lute, who- while I'm sure she's very capable- WAS Adam's lieutenant, and often took initiative in his way of managing things."

Sera: "I have more than enough to do without adding-"

Vaggie: "Suck it up and take responsibility for shit for once instead of talking about how sad being in charge makes you. And maybe don't get more of your own people killed. Or mutilated. By Lute."

Charlie: "If you WERE to adopt this proactive shift in management style, Hell would be MUCH more comfortable negotiating with Heaven on the exact amount of damages and compensation owed to both sinners and winners for the emotional harm caused by your long term wrongful killing of countless potential citizens of Heaven, including their friends and loved ones!"

Sera: "Excuse me? Compensation-?"

Vaggie: "You fucked up. Heaven and Hell both hate you. We can give you some good PR, though, if you actually earn it."

Charlie: "Right now this is the only offer we can put on the table, all things considered, and especially when we're SO busy rebuilding and mourning our dead friends, so I really hope you take the time to consider it!!!"

Sera: "You cannot possibly be serious-"

Vaggie: "Try us, bitch."

Sera: "..."

Charlie: (turns to gf) "I love you."

Vaggie: (smiles) (lifts and smooches their entwined hands)

Sera: "........"

Emily: (applauds)

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie #chaggie #sera (hazbin hotel #incorrect quotes #vaggie can have a little verbal catharsis. as a treat #charlie princess of repressed anger can live vicarious through her #also as a Treat~

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hunterwritings · 11 months

Text

𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐛𝐢-𝐡𝐚𝐧

summary: bi-han wants to bring a new addition to the family warnings: 18+, smut, fingering, creampie, slight choking, breeding kink, afab!reader, wife!reader, confident reader knows her worth notes: dad!bi-han on top (of me)

You hummed to yourself as you stood at your dresser, looking at yourself in the mirror. As you looked down for a moment, you felt ice-cold hands wrap around your waist. You look up into the mirror and see Bi-han standing behind you, resting his head on your shoulders.

"I was wondering where you were, my love." You smiled as you brought a hand up to rest on his head. He only grunted as he pressed his nose on your neck. "What's wrong?" You asked, pressing your head against his.

"I wish for a child."

"What?" You instinctively ask, wondering if you heard him correctly, as you break free from his grip to face him.

"Is that not what you wanted?" He asks, frustration laced in his voice.

"No, it is." You reassured him, leaning your lower back against the dresser. "I just ― never expected it so soon from you." You shook your head.

"You don't believe I'm capable of wanting that?" He grabs the edge of the dresser on either side of you, essentially locking you in between his large arms. "I don't believe I ever said that." You retaliate with a smile. "That's what it sounds like." He adds.

Your hands reach up to lie on both sides of his face, feeling his ice-cold skin against your palms. Bi-han was serious and trying his best to be vulnerable to you. You knew how much it took for him to try and communicate these things to you with words, it meant he was truly yearning for it.

"I think you'd be a great father Bi-han." Something in his eyes shifted from irritation and worry to happiness and thrill. "You're protective, strong and caring." You smile as you pull his face towards you into a sweet, loving kiss. His hands moved from the edge of the dresser to softly lie on the back of your waist as your eyes shut.

"And if you are to be a good father, I'd happily provide as many children as you desire." You breathe out with a smirk on your lips. You open your eyes to see his own piercing you, his eyes covered in lust.

Bi-han crashed his lips onto yours; this time, he was hungry and pressed against you as if he was going to devour you. His hands reached down to your thighs, squeezing tightly before lifting you up to sit on the edge of the dresser. His lips part from yours to move down your jawline, making his way to the crook of your neck. "You might regret making that promise." He smirks before sucking on your neck harshly, wanting to leave spots, wanting to mark you. Your hands reach up to hold his head. One of his hands moves from your leg to lie on your stomach. His fingertips turn to ice, causing you to yelp in surprise. You tightly gripped his bun and pulled on his hair, pulling him away from your neck. A small unexpected moan left his lips when you pulled his hair, having him stare up at you through his eyebrows.

"What did I say about the ice?" You asked as he chuckled.

"Should you be talking that way to your Grandmaster? The father of your children?" He snakes a hand up to lie softly on your neck, still cold but no longer ice.

"It will be a privilege to fill me with a child." You smile as he returns it.

"Oh, I praise your confidence." He groans before diving back into your lips.

He lifts up your legs and holds you in his arms as you tightly wrap your legs around him. He walks from your dresser to your shared bed, gently lying you down onto the sheets. His hands were quick to remove your clothes as he hovered over you, removing his clothes as well.

One of his hands reached down between your legs and pressed against your folds. The cold contact caused you to instinctively shut your legs together and moan, Bi-han smirked against your lips. His fingers softly rubbed against your clit as your hands tightly gripped at his up done hair. Groans and grunts escaped your lips as you grinded your hips against his hand. His other hand explored up your body before softly resting on your neck. God he loves that doesn't he?

He slips a finger inside you, pumping in and out at a steady pace, watching your face contract as he moves. He moves his hand from your neck and down to your breast, holding and squeezing tightly. "Fuck..." You curse as you tightly grip his biceps, leaving small marks in his skin.

"Oh, you are going to be an amazing mother." He breathes out, increasing the speed of his fingers. A small whimper falling from your lips as he slipped another finger in. He leaned down and pressed his lips against your own, you pulling him even closer to you.

A frustrated groan fell from your mouth as he removed his fingers from your pussy. He sat in between your legs as he ghosted his hands down to tightly hold onto your hips as he positioned himself.

"Bi-han please ―" you breathed out as you looked up at him, your eyebrows furrowed together tightly.

"You want to be a mother? You want to walk around with a swollen belly, carrying my child?" He teased as he held the nape of our neck. Just the thought of you with a large belly, knowing that you were creating his child within you, made his cock twitch with excitement.

You were going to respond, but all that came out was a load moan as Bi-han slammed into you. "Gods!" You cursed as he rutted his hips back and forward into you at a steady but fast pace. The sounds that were bouncing off the walls were pornographic, from the moans escaping your mouth to the sounds of wet skin slapping against each other. His hands tightly gripped at your hips as he thrusted forward, throwing his head back as he groaned.

You could feel your orgasm coming as he moved in you, causing your pussy to clench around. He grunted at the tightness, briefly halting his movements. Then, he continues to thrust in and out of you. He leans down and captures your lips in a kiss, humming against your lips. He pulls away and presses his forehead against yours, taking in the sight of you like this. Beads of sweat falling down your face, small wells of tears in the corners of your eyes, it was everything to him.

He pulled you up and close to him as he rested his head on your shoulder, wrapping his arms around you as he continued the movement inside of your folds. Your legs wrapped around his waist tightly as your arms wrapped around his shoulders.

"God, you are everything. There is no one else who could fulfill the role of being the mother to my children except for you, you are perfection." He compliments, his breath shaky. His words cause you to tighten even more around him, causing him to curse under his breath.

"Please fill me with your child, Bi-han." You whispered in his ear, setting him off. His pace violently increased as loud moans and a string of curses fell from your lips. Your hands tightly gripped his back muscles, scratching at his skin and even causing some blood to be drawn. His hand reached down to rub at your clit, erupting a moan from you and feeling your release around his cock. Your pussy held him tightly as you came, feeling your legs shaking between him.

A small moan came from Bi-han's mouth as your legs locked around him, refusing to release him. His hands reached up to grip at the headboard as he pumped into you a few more times before he finally came undone under your grip. Shaky moans falling from his lips as he spurted all of his seed into your womb, seeing it leak out from under you. You held your legs around him tightly, milking him before every last drop of his seed was inside you.

His chest heaved up and down as he let go of the headboard, leaving hand-shaped cracks. He hovered over you as he stopped for a moment to breathe, your hands coming up to lie on both sides of his sweaty face. He grabs a hold of one of your hands and presses a kiss to your palm and grips your hand tightly. "Our child will be flawless because you will have created them." He swoons as you smile.

"If this is the treatment I get, then you may fill me with as many children as you like." You joke and he actually laughs.

"Oh trust me, I will."

#— hunterwritings #hunterwritings #mk1 #bi han #bi han x reader #bihan #bihan x reader #bi han smut #bihan smut #sub zero #sub zero x reader #bi han x you #bi han mk #bi-han #mk1 x reader #mortal kombat

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daenysx · 8 months

Note

Hiya darling, I just saw that your requests were open so obviously I had to jump at the opportunity. Could you write sth about Aegon and maybe the reader is his girlfriend? And this time he promises himself to do things right and not just jump into the physical intimacy right away bc he's serious about her. So he's trying to restrain himself, but she's making it hard for him without even knowing, bc everything seemingly innocent turns him on lol. And then she's a bit irritated bc he's getting irritated and keeps pushing her away and she thinks that maybe she did something wrong?

It doesn't need to be pure smut, but if you could make it a bit spicy and fluffy it'd be greatly appreciated! 💖💖

thank you so much for requesting, angel, i tried my best but honestly i'm not sure if this is good enough ♡ i hope you like it! requests are open!!

aegon targaryen x fem!reader modern au (kinda nsfw)

promises

aegon wakes up to an empty bed.

he blinks slowly, his hair falls on the comfy pillow as he adjusts his head, and he feels the spot next to him. the sheets are still warm but you are not there, confusion and curiousity makes aegon's brain fuzzy the first thing in the morning. he sits on bed, rubs his eyes until he feels numb, and leaves the warmth behind him as he steps out of his room.

it is your first sleepover at aegon's, and he is excited by all means. he remembers the night, the wine bottle, and your smiles. you were glowing under the soft lights of his living room, you gave him lots of kisses, and he kissed you back. he remembers leading you to bed, cuddling you under the sheets, and the way you wrapped your arms around him. he buried his face to your neck as you fall asleep and promised not to ruin what he has with you silently.

aegon's kitchen is big enough but he keeps his glasses at the highest shelves. you are trying to get one of them on your tiptoes, wearing an old shirt from his closet and your sleep shorts. he likes seeing you like this, he decides. like you belong in his life.

you get the glass successfully, you fill it with water and drink it all in one go. aegon watches you, leaning to the wall. you finish the water and put your glass on the counter. turning your back, you see your lover waiting for you to realize him.

"good morning, baby." you say, aegon loves hearing the word baby from your mouth.

"morning." he says back. you give him a kiss on his cheek. "slept well?" you ask, even your morning voice is sweet to him. he nods, brushes his lips on your hair and fakes a kiss. you wrap your arms around his waist as you lead him back to his room.

"it's still early." you say.

"maybe we should go back to sleep." aegon says as he holds your hand.

you both find your ways back to bed, aegon lifts the sheets to get under them. he misses your warmth even though you are here with him, it's addictive and he has never been great with his obsessions. the thoughts of being together with you all the time, every way, makes his head spin. he closes his eyes and takes a calming breath.

aegon has a love-hate relationship with promises. the promises he gave to his mom, i'll be good mom, the promises he gave to aemond, and the promises he keeps giving himself. he thinks they make his life worthy somehow, he tries to prove that he is actually capable of doing something he gave his word for. no one has ever told aegon how hard it is to keep a promise, though. he finds himself imagining different scenarios of him breaking all those promises and being somewhat free.

you came into his life when everything was more difficult. he didn't even know what you see in him, why would someone like you stay with him? you deserve sunshine and happiness, aegon has broken memories behind him. not all of them was his fault to be true, but he had his fair share of ruined relationships. he was expecting to ruin the things with you as well, because why not, but it's not going as he'd guessed. it's going actually well, with you.

he is careful not to make any mistakes, the ones he knows from his past anyways. he is careful not to rush into things with you, even though he wants is badly. you in his apartment, playing with his beloved sunfyre, wearing his shirts, kissing him like he's worth it, calling him baby like he deserves it...he wants everything with you.

"i was thinking we could do something other than sleeping." you say gently, getting him out of his thoughts.

"yeah?" he asks, gets comfy on bed as you stroke his hair. "like what, pretty girl?"

you answer by starting a kiss. aegon parts his lips for you, you lean into him. the kiss lasts for seconds, you can see the first lights of the day in the room. you cup aegon's cheek with your one hand while the other twirls his hair between your fingers. aegon kisses you back and you find the courage to take the next step.

you give him one last kiss as he lies on bed, and you throw one leg over his body to get closer to him. you can feel his hardness under your leg and your stomach tightens. you press yourself as an attempt for relief and aegon holds your thigh to keep you steady. he breaks the kiss to look at you with an expression you don't quite like.

he stays still but you think maybe he's pulling away from you, and your courage feels like there's a pit in your chest. you try to pull your leg back but you can't. you try to smile when he frowns, you are almost ashamed that you are pressing yourself to him when he does nothing.

"i'm sorry." you whisper. "i didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

aegon looks at you with glassy eyes. "don't be sorry, please. you never make me uncomfortable."

"i mean-" you start, but the words don't come out easily. "i know we didn't really do anything before but i- i thought-"

insecurity starts dripping from your words and aegon would be damned if he ever let you think you are doing something he doesn't want. "no, no, lovely. it's just-" he says, rubbing your skin. "it's all me. i just- didn't want to rush into things and-"

he stops talking and it worries you. "and what?" you ask silently.

"i don't want to lose this." he sounds afraid and broken. "i don't want to lose what we have. i don't want to ruin everything."

he blinks down a slow tear, and it breaks your heart. "aegon." you say. "you think you will ruin things with me just because we get physical?"

the conversation turns serious so quickly. aegon blinks again. "i've never been good in relationships. i want you so much, but i don't mind waiting. you didn't do anything wrong, it's all me."

"baby." you cup his cheek. "you are my boyfriend, and i want to be closer with you. i promise, you wouldn't ruin anything, and it's all good for me."

he tilts his head to see your eyes. "no rush?"

"no rush." you kiss him on his chin. "but still, you don't have to wait."

aegon kisses you and he feels a deadweight has been lifted from his chest. he thinks it's all gonna be okay, now that you know his true intentions. he pulls you on his lap until he sits on bed, he leans against headboard. the kiss takes his breath away, he helps you sit properly on him.

"we can continue if you want, or we can stop here." he whispers to your ear. "anything you want."

"i want you, aegon." you whisper back.

he likes that combination of words. he helps you take your shorts off without leaving the bed, you pull down his sweatpants and his boxers. aegon touches your inner leg, your skin is hot. he drags his fingers further until he finds what he's looking for.

you lift your hips against him, he's getting harder every passing second. you wrap your fingers around him, stroking him until he's fully hard.

"i'm not gonna last if you keep doing that." he says desperately.

"can we stay like this?"

you smile and give him a kiss. your fingers guide him to your entrance and he helps you putting it in by angling himself properly. your wetness slides against him, he tries to find your clit after a moment of catching his breath. you hold the hand on your cunt, bringing it to your mouth to kiss the back of it.

he agrees, he doesn't think he can manage to last long with fast movements and strong strokes. this is grounding and calming, he is fully inside you and you are comfortable on his lap. you keep him inside you as you put your head on his chest. he kisses your hair and rubs your back.

"thank you for being honest with me." you say. aegon realizes your voice gets sleepy and he keeps rubbing your back.

he kisses your forehead as a way of answering. "come on, let's go back to sleep." he slides down on bed to put his head on the pillow.

you nod. "but we'll continue once we wake up."

aegon laughs. "we kinda have to, i don't know how to handle more of your teasings at this point."

"i'm not teasing you!"

"yeah, baby, of course you're not." he rolls his eyes and smiles.

#aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x you #aegon x you #aegon x reader #aegon ii x you #aegon ii x reader #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd x reader #modern!aegon

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hellaarknight · 27 days

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Chuuya drabble ahead.

Someone thought it was a good idea to eat my last ice cream. I'm beyond pissed and ready for revenge. Mention of NSFW content towards the end. Enjoy!

- I love you.

- Ok, and?

Chuuya groaned exasperated. He knew he fucked up and you got mad, but giving him the cold shoulder and not responding back to his desperate confession was beyond evil.

- Baby, doll face c'mon... I apologized, I promised I'll buy you another one, stop being so fucking stubborn.

- Ohhhh, so now I'm also stubborn. Good choice of words Chuuya. Desperate, pitiful and now stubborn.

You just puffed your chest, pretending to be offended. He couldn't get away with it this time.

- My loooove, please, for the love of anything holy, stop acting so childish!

You raised an eyebrow and looked him dead in the eyes. He gulped, sighed then spoke again.

- Ok, maybe this wasn't the smartest choice of words. Look doll, I promise I'll make it up to you. In any way you'd like. Please, just please, stop this madness of being cold and petty towards me, is driving me insane.

The pitiful one was Chuuya right now. If someone saw him right now they couldn't have said that he was a Port Mafia executive. And honestly, it was a delight for you to see the prideful, stubborn motherfucker of your boyfriend beg you for forgiveness for eating your favorite last ice cream. And it's not like he didn't have any other alternative, the fucking freezer was full of every type of ice cream, minus your favorite. Also, you wouldn't make such a big deal out of it... but you asked him nicely, then also sent him a message throughout the day to not touch your damned ice cream because you had an awful day and your period had to start... You were just a mess emotionally and needed your emotionally support food. That's all.

- Everything, everything?

- Yes, I'll do everything and anything you'll ask me to.

You grined.

- You'll call Mori and ask for a week off. And you'll spend it with me. No interruptions. No work. No fucking paperwork. No quickies, but finally a good fucking passionate sex session. And you'll buy me all the ice cream I want, you will not touch or eat any drop of it...

Chuuya blinked slowly, registering what you just told him.

- what... I can't take a week off for that Sugar, I mean we can't do it in the weekend. Honestly that sounds more like a reward than a punishment.

- Naha. Week off, or I'm going to be a petty bitch for a fucking month. Your choice, Sweetheart.

- Love, baby, you know it's not that easy to ask Mori for...

- I don't care. Your actions have consequences so deal with it.

Chuuya passed a frustrated hand through his ginger hair. He wanted a break from work too and spending all that time with you was just what he craved. And maybe you were right, your bedroom sessions weren't the most romantic or affectionate ones, he did kinda neglect you. Fuck, he could see the extra work already pilling up... But then, he couldn't resist you.

- Fine. I'll call Mori First thing in the morning. Now, are you happy?

He smiled, also content with his choice. He deserved a good break.

- Maybe yes, maybe not. Who knows. We will find out after your trip to the supermarket, when you bring me back my goods.

- Of course it couldn't be that easy... Yes, everything for you, I'll get going.

Anything else?

- Did I mention that I plan to eat the ice cream out of your body? While you're all tied up? And you will not be able to touch me? All week?

Chuuya choked on his saliva and his eyes widened in shock. The smirk on your face was telling him that you were more than serious.

- What!? Ain't no fucking way I'll do that doll face.

- Oh, but of course you will. If you fuck around you find out Chuu, baby. Next time you plan to try to get a reaction out of me by eating my last piece of delicious ice cream, maybe you'll think twice about it. Because ain't no fucking way that I'm not capable of doing even worse than this. Right, sweetheart, you know how much I do love you?

A shiver went down Chuuya's spine. You would make one hell of a Mafia member with this attitude. He made a mental note to never mess with your food again when you're in your premenstrual period. To hell with it, never mess with your food or try to prank you again.

#bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #chuuya x reader #chuuya x you #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #chuuya bsd #bungou stray dogs chuuya #hellawrites #chuuya fluff #chuuya x y/n #bsd #chuya x reader

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mari-lu0-0 · 2 months

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Do we hate each other?

Daeron Targaryen x f! reader Velaryon.

Summary: You and Daeron have always hated each other, but wasn't that hatred something else?

Description: All characters are of legal age, content +18, female masturbation, p in v.

Total words: 872.

A deafening silence fell in the dining room after the king's announcement.

You would marry Daeron Targaryen. Simply the most stupid, selfish and idiotic person in your most honest opinion.

You loved your grandfather with all your heart, but you really thought that at that moment he must have been having a serious hallucination, because that would be the only response to wanting to marry two people who would certainly kill each other if given the opportunity.

Your two hatred was known throughout the red fortress. Once when you were both still children, you threw Daeron off one of the small balconies after he called you a bastard and shouted for everyone to hear that Daemon Targaryen was your biological father, because for him that would be the only way for you to possess him. white hair and skin. Once again, Daeron trapped you alone in the Dragon pit with the intention of "helping you get a dragon" in his own words when he received a scolding from his father.

The list of arguments, small and big fights was miles and miles long, and you were determined to add another item to that list.

You walk hurriedly through the dark corridors with one thought in mind of killing Daeron Targaryen. But you are pulled out of your thoughts when your body is pinned against the wall.

"That was your idea wasn't it, if you think you're going to make me kneel before your mother you're really mistaken you little bastard."

"Fuck, only in your dreams Daeron would I lower myself to this level, now let me go before I..."

"Before you tell me, what are you going to do? Are you going to scream for help?" It says how much more your body is stuck to the wall and the next your face is.

"No, you son of a bitch, I'm going to kill you."

"What a dirty mouth, your mother didn't teach you good manners... Am I going to have to teach you that?" The same says the last part in his ear.

“Fuck you” you say in a whisper, making Daeron look into your eyes with an intense look.

"No... I'm going to fuck you."

After that, he sticks his lips to his. Surprised by his action, you decide to give in after a few seconds of shock.

The kiss deepens in an intense way, their tongues dance in an absurd synchronicity.

Daeron breaks the kiss only to start distributing kisses and small bites on his neck.

You feel one of his hands go up under your dress, slowly running up your leg until he reaches your underwear, where he rips it off.

A small moan comes from you after he passes his finger between your wet folds.

"I've barely got my hands on you and you're already soaked like a silk street courtesan?"

You think about responding but your mouth is filled with a moan, as you feel him work his fingers inside you with a speed and constancy that you didn't know you were capable of. When you start to feel a familiar feeling form in your stomach Daeron removes his fingers from you, causing a small nervous expression to form on his face.

"I think we're going to have to speed things up a little love, we don't want to get caught here, right?" The same person speaks while lifting her dress to her waist and then lowering her own pants to release their length.

"I promise we'll finish this before anyone else shows up." He says the same thing as he picks me up with a small push, causing his intimacy to rub together in the process.

Daeron lines up against your entrance and pushes, and then looks into your eyes for some denial, when he doesn't find it he slowly pushes into you. A moan escapes as you feel yourself being stretched.

"Oh gods, how tight you are." He moaned as he began to give light thrusts.

You smile mischievously when a

The thought cuts through your mind, you approach his ear and whisper.

"What is it Daeron? Is that all you can do?"

The same for any attack and gives him a mocking smile.

"I was thinking of treating you to a lady, but since your desire is different..."

Daeron tightens his hands on your waist and without any warning begins to thrust into you quickly and deeply, it doesn't take long for him to find your sweet spot, which makes you wrap your arms around him, scratching his back from above. of his clothes.

Quickly the two turn into a mess of moans and whispers, you feel the sensation of an orgasm rip through you, a while later you feel it fill your insides with his seed.

Daeron places one more kiss on your lips before withdrawing inside you and then going to put on your clothes. When finished, he turns his attention to you, placing your clothes in their proper place.

"Do we still hate each other?" He asks, pressing two foreheads together.

"Yes, we still hate each other."

You both let out small laughs before locking your lips together.

At that moment you were both sure that maybe the marriage between you two wouldn't be so bad.

#house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #house targaryen #hotd x you #house of the dragon x reader #daeron targaryen

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draftdweller · 22 days

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Frosted Hearts

Part two to the Love in winter series Logan Howlett x Reader Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Talks about feelings

The moments after he said those chilling words, about how he was capable of hurting you, you had pulled away from him. Not from fear, but because he was right, he could hurt you easily. Not emotionally, but physically. His nightmares always left holes in the mattresses he slept in from his claws shooting out, ready to defend himself from any danger. It could happen to be you instead of the mattress one day, and you didn't want him to blame himself for any injuries you acquired from him. It's not his fault the nightmares plague his sleeping mind every night.

You stepping away from him had given him the wrong impression, he thought you'd want nothing to do with him from now on, but he was so far from right, you'd think he'd take a left turn at any moment. You wanted everything to do with him, waking up with him every morning, consoling him after a mission gone awry, even the most mundane things, like watching his favorite show, or listening to his favorite album. "Y/N, I, I understand you may not want anything-"

"Anything to do with you? Logan you're so wrong about that. I just, just had to think for a minute. About how serious I am about you, and anything to do with you" You cutting him off had cut him off guard to say the least. He stood in stunned silence, staring at you with wide eyes. "I've had a thing for you, since our first mission together, when you practically died saving me." His expression turned grim as he listened to you, and finally took a breath to speak

"Y/N, I'm the last thing you need. I could hurt you, or worse, and I would carry that guilt with me until I died. I don't want to be the cause of another loved one's death. I refuse to be, that's why I've been cold to you, and why I never let you initiate anything more with me, I, I'm the one who's scared here, because I feel something so strong for you, that I couldn't bear the thought of me causing you to get hurt."

By the time he finished speaking, tears were rolling down your cheeks, and you reach up to touch his cheek gently, projecting your thoughts onto him, letting him see inside your head. When you pulled your hand back, tears of his own were streaming down his face. He pulled you in close and held onto you.

Through the bond you sent down his mind, he could feel the strong love you had for him, the fearlessness you had every time you looked at him. He could see that you didn't fear anything from him, or even what he could do. You were willing to be with him until the ends of the earth.

As he accepted that, and knelt down in front of you, holding your waist for support, he finally broke his tough guy act, sobs wracked his body, and you just held onto him. You stroked his head and leaned down whispering softly into his ear. You wouldn't leave him for anything.

He looked up to you, eyes red rimmed from the tears, and breathing unsteadily. He thanked you silently and leaned his head on your hip. When he'd calmed down, he stood back up slowly, his height towering over you slightly and he took your hands gently. "I promise, in everything I do. I will never intentionally harm you,"

#hugh jackman fluff #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett fluff #logan howlett #loganbeingemotional #wolverine fluff #wolverine x reader #wolverine

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cadejos · 1 month

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ON NANAMI'S POWER LEVEL, DOMAIN EXPANSIONS, DOMAIN COUNTERS, AND HOW JUJUTSU SOCIETY PLAYS A ROLE.

This analysis originally turned viral on twitter. I'm posting it here for archival.

Nanami treated sorcery like a job and Gojo treated sorcery like a lifestyle. I've thought long and hard about why Nanami does not have certain skills (DE, Simple Domain, etc) that'd easily bump him up in terms of power, as he's already very strong. The reason is two-fold:

He never set out to do more than what he absolutely had to do. ("Moderate effort where moderate effort suffices," etc)

Information about sorcery is very gatekept and compartmentalized, because Jujutsu society sucks.

For point number 1, we are to keep in mind that Nanami is a grade one sorcerer, very much the peak of what sorcery is supposed to be outside of Special Grade work. The purpose of sorcery, up until very recently, has been about killing curses, most of which are not special grade or intelligent. The disaster curses are anomalies, and battles with Domain users were very rare until they showed up. They vastly skewed the power system. Remember that not even Naobito Zenin, the head of one of the great clans, had a Domain expansion either, and it took the work of a Domain user (Megumi) and an experienced sorcerer killer (Toji) to properly counter Dagon in his domain.

If domain battles are truly so rare, I don't really blame Nanami for not going out of his way to work on developing one, especially since Domains require an element of self-assurance that Nanami, due to trauma and disposition, was never geared toward developing.

His soul was strong enough to protect against a novice Mahito subconsciously, which is a promising start, but once Mahito grew too strong he was way out of Nanami's scope (not to mention Gege deliberately tired him over the course of Shibuya) and Nanami was more inclined to take his loss gracefully than to force himself to craft an spontaneous Domain Expansion. It's not like he really had the energy to try, either.

Overall, developing a DE for the off chance that he stumbled upon a Domain user just doesn't sound like his style. And he wouldn't do it for fun, either, because jujutsu is not fun for him, and it never has been. It's just work.

Let's say he would want to at least develop a domain counter, though. That's where point number 2 steps in. The whole reason something as fundamental as a domain counter is so rare in jujutsu is purely because jujutsu society is inherently selfish and self-serving.

If I recall correctly, SD is not something you can teach due to a binding vow tied to the technique. It has to be something you learn on your own through observation and intuition, or by joining New Shadow Style. Up until UiUi's soul swapping, there wasn't a reliable work around for this conundrum. And the other domain counters? Old, not very well known, and gatekept by the clans.

Sometimes I'm inclined to believe jujutsu sorcerers learn sorcery not because of the school system but in spite of it. Unless you're already a genius, born gifted, or willing to go an extra -- ambiguously illicit -- mile (like Kusakabe), there's not much the average sorcerer can do, and not many tools for them to learn to begin with. Nanami is presented as the baseline of what modern day good sorcery looks like; what you can achieve if you're competent, and don't have the privilege of relying on very good mentors, obscure knowledge, or ancient techniques. Even then he had an expansion technique, not something every sorcerer has, and he was capable of achieving one of the pinnacles of Jujutsu, which is the black flash; precisely because of his attitude toward jujutsu and his ability to focus when things get serious.

Maybe if given enough time to heal from his psychological wounds, and given opportunities for more black flashes, as well as a strong enough incentive, he could have circumvented a lot of problems and enlightened his way toward a DE or other such jujutsu-relevelations.

But that's speculation and not really the point of his character.

Had he been a villain though? Gege probably would've made him stronger, if his Culling Games score in JJK's draft Jujutsu Sousen is anything to go by, which is amusing.

Supplementary reading:

In regards to black flashes: a post where I go over why I think Yuuji and Nanami are especially good at them, and why I think they require conditions that are in opposition to Domain expansions.

Measuring Nanami's critical hit power: where I use a statement to further analyze and evaluate the capabilities of the Ratio Technique.

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #nanami kento #kento nanami #kento x reader #meta.#jujutsu society

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harunayuuka2060 · 2 months

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Azul: I can assist you with your worries.

MC: *has an innocent and confused expression*

Azul: My apologies. You must have been surprised when I approached you so unexpectedly.

Azul: My name is Azul Ashengrotto, the dorm leader of Octavinelle.

MC: *smiles* It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Azul Ashengrotto.

Azul: *smiles back* May I take a seat beside you?

MC: Of course, please make yourself comfortable.

Azul: Thank you! *sits next to them*

Azul: ...

Azul: *hides a smile*

MC: ...

MC: Sir Azul, concerning our earlier exchange, could you clarify what you meant by offering to assist me with my troubles?

Azul: Right.

Azul: I couldn’t help but feel sympathy for you. Professor Crewel humiliated you in front of the entire class.

MC: *displays a slightly pained expression*

MC: *forces a smile* I am embarrassed that someone else saw that. *chuckles*

Azul: Please don’t be. In fact, I believe it was entirely uncalled for.

Azul: If I may inquire, what caused Professor Crewel to become so enraged?

MC: ...

MC: I have been struggling with his class.

MC: Furthermore, I have also lost the book I borrowed from him.

Azul: ...

Azul: Oh dear.

Azul: You're clumsy and an idiot.

MC: You must see me as rather clumsy and foolish.

Azul: W-Why would I? It's a normal thing for students.

MC: *sigh* Do you truly believe so?

Azul: Yes! And I may be able to assist you in improving your situation!

MC: ...

MC: *smiles* Thank you. I would be most grateful if you would.

Azul: *triumphant face*

Professor Trein: You are quite a skilled actor, Professor Crewel. I could never have managed that myself.

Professor Crewel: It required all my willpower to achieve that.

Professor Trein: What were they planning?

Professor Crewel: I'm guessing it has something to do with Azul Ashengrotto, as they made sure he could hear everything.

Professor Trein: ...

Professor Crewel: We should wish Ashengrotto good luck.

Azul: ...

MC: *smiling* What's wrong?

Azul: ...

Azul: This is a site plan.

MC: Yes. I have been struggling to determine the best use for that unoccupied land. While I have received many suggestions, none appear particularly promising to me.

Azul: This appears to be a personal matter.

MC: Indeed, but you promised to make things better for me, didn’t you?

Azul: ...

Azul: This is out of my scope.

MC: Aren’t you searching for a location to expand your business?

Azul: !!!

Azul: How did you-

MC: You are not the only one capable of conducting background checks, my dear.

Azul: ...

Azul: *his face turned serious*

Azul: Who are you?

MC: You shall learn in due course, once Jade Leech returns from his investigation.

Azul: ...

Jade: ...

Jade: Azul, are you alright?

Azul: THEY'RE THE REIGNING MONARCH OF THE KINGDOM OF ARENDELLE?!

Jade: Please keep your voice down, Azul.

Azul: ...

Azul: Jade... WE HIT A JACKPOT!

Jade: *sigh* *then chuckles*

Azul: Where did I put that site plan-

Lucas: At least you did something productive for once, Your Highness.

Lucas: Though the prince regent isn't too happy about it.

MC: Hm? Why? I remember him praising Mostro Lounge and wanting one for the kingdom so he wouldn’t have to travel so far.

Lucas: He complained that Azul Ashengrotto is a bit talkative.

MC: ...

MC: *chuckles* Oh dear, he should make a personal request to see him less often.

#twisted wonderland #twst mc #twst azul #twst oc lucas #twst crewel #twst trein #twst jade #twst ruler

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carcarcraziiv2 · 10 months

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Heartsteel Sett Boyfriend HCs

~Sett is love, Sett is LIFE. Don't get me wrong, I am barking and on all fours for all of these men but Sett holds a special place in my little heart~

P.S. Asks are open! I am open to requests! P.S.S. I am also open to other League characters, Arcane AU, etc. Just hmu :3

TW: Floof. So much floof. Pet names. You get the picture right? As always, enter at your own risk!

Sett is a l o v e r. PDA overload. Hugs? Always, without question, is up for that. Kisses? You bet your ass he will. Any second, no matter where you are, you could lean in for one and he will squeeze you up against him, and kiss you like his life depends on it. If anyone appears to be giving you some extra attention that he doesn't like, all this big guy has to do is walk up next to you (as if he isn't there already lol) and usually the person doing the thing is smart enough to know better than to continue. "Hey baby, come here. What, can't I kiss you? Let me kiss you. That's my good b/g."

Sett is second only to Ezreal in his joking capabilities. This man can JOKE, and although he is trying to joke with and or at you, he unfortunately tends to make a fool of himself because he is a massive dork. If you pull jokes on him, he doesn't really get upset or offended, but he will pretend to be. His goofy demeanor means he will put a hand to his chest acting all flabbergasted, then tackle you into a hug or onto the bed while calling you a dork. "Haha! You're so funny, but you know I've got skin of steel baby. Oh, you meant it? Yeah right! Comere!"

Sett is an absolute SUCKER for attention. He will eat it up, and if you aren't paying attention to him? You might as well be. He will pester you, throw you over his shoulder, basically DEMAND your attention. Since this is just how he is, you never have to be desperate for his attention either. If for some reason you do feel neglected, he will feel very bad about it. He will make it up to you no matter what that means. "I'm sorry I've been at the gym so much this week, band stuff has just been stressing me out. Hey, I have an idea! Why don't you go with me?!"

Kisses, hugs, and everything fun= SETT. He is a fiend. He is insatiable. He will grab you up and kiss you, no matter where you are. His kisses can be goofy, fun, or downright sensual. Sometimes, when Sett is feeling serious for once, he will take his time with you. Touching you sweetly- he is so strong sometimes he is scared he will hurt you by accident. But man, it's all worth it as soon as his lips touch yours. Sett grabs your wrist, pulling you flush against him. You have to tilt your head to see him, and as he gazes back down at you he tilts his head and studies your face. "You're everything, baby. Everything." He leans down, kissing you gently, before releasing your lips and hugging you even closer.

Sett doesn't like arguing. He gets so pent up sometimes, you fear for the guy he goes up against at his boxing matches. Most of the time, when it's petty little arguments, he will figure out some way to get your mind off of it. Every once in awhile when you actually feel upset about the situation, Sett will take his time to sit down and talk it out with you. He will grab your hands, nod while you explain your side, and carefully display his own. By the end of it, the two of you are usually kissing... and by the end of that- well... "I get where you're coming from, baby. I just think we could have approached the situation differently, is all. Promise you're not mad at me? Thank the Gods. Come on, I wanna make it up to you in the bedroom hehe," He says, grabbing you by the waist and tugging you toward your room.

Sett will be very sad when you leave, or when he has to leave. He is like a little puppy dog who cries when you go (although he doesn't actually cry). He will pout, however, and his irresistible face almost makes you quit everything and stay home just to appease him. When he leaves, he will ask you a thousand questions trying to egg on a reason to stay, but you know he has to get to band practice so that Yone doesn't come pounding down your door, so you usually just give him a reason to be excited to come home later. "I miss you already, baby! Please don't make me go. Nah, look Yone loves me! He won't be that mad... Comeonnnn. Fine, but later we are getting dinner, and you are going to be desert."

#Heartsteel Sett x Reader #Sett x Reader #Heartsteel x Reader #League of Legends x reader

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inmyfxith · 2 years

Text

Finding our way home

Pairing: Neteyam x reader

Summary: Neteyam and you, a skilled warrior and hunter, have been together for years and are deeply in love. However, your happiness is threatened when you are chosen to participate in a rite of passage that will take you far away from Neteyam for an extended period of time.

Words: 922

Neteyam and you had been inseparable for as long as you could remember. From the moment you had laid eyes on each other, you had known that you were meant to be together.

Now, as you sat in your favorite spot by the river, watching the sun set over the majestic trees of Pandora, Neteyam couldn't help but feel a sense of unease.

"What's wrong, my love?" you asked, sensing the turmoil in Neteyam's mind.

"I'm just worried about you," Neteyam admitted, taking your hand in his. "You leave for your rite of passage in a week, and I'm not sure I can bear the thought of being away from you for so long."

You smiled and leaned your head on his shoulder. "I know it will be hard, but we have been preparing for this moment for years. I will do my best to honor my ancestors and return to you as soon as I can."

Neteyam sighed. He knew that you were right. As the princess of your tribe, you had a duty to fulfill. But that didn't make the thought of being apart any easier to bear.

"I want to go with you," Neteyam blurted out before he could stop himself.

Your eyes widened in surprise. "You can't be serious," you answered. "The rite of passage is a sacred tradition, reserved for members of my tribe."

"I know that," Neteyam said. "But I can't stand the thought of being away from you for so long. I want to be there for you, to support you and help you through whatever challenges you may face."

You looked at him with a mixture of affection and concern. "Neteyam, I appreciate your devotion, but this journey is not for outsiders. It will be difficult enough for me to prove myself to my tribe. If you came with me, it would only make things harder for both of us."

Neteyam had always respected the traditions of your people and didn't want to cause any trouble. But the thought of being apart from you for so long was almost unbearable.

"Please, Y/N," he begged. "I'll do anything to stay by your side. I'll work hard and prove myself to your tribe. I'll show them that I am worthy of your love."

You looked at him with a sad smile. "I know you would do anything for me, Neteyam. And that's why I can't let you come with me. This journey is not about proving ourselves to others. It's about discovering who we are and what we are capable of. I need to do this on my own, without the distractions of someone I love."

Neteyam nodded, his heart heavy with sadness. He knew that you were right, but that didn't make the thought of being apart any easier to bear.

As the days passed, Neteyam did everything he could to prepare you for your journey. He helped you pack your supplies and sharpen your weapons. He listened as you talked about your fears and doubts, and he did his best to reassure you.

And when the day of your departure finally arrived, Neteyam stood by your side, holding your hand as you said goodbye to your family and friends.

"I'll miss you," Neteyam said, his voice choked with emotion.

"And I'll miss you," you answered, tears welling up in your eyes. "But I promise to come back to you as soon as I can. And when I do, I will be stronger and wiser than ever before."

Neteyam nodded, trying to hold back his own tears. "I believe in you," he said. "I know you will do great things."

You leaned your forehead against his, and then you were gone, disappearing into the dense jungle foliage with a group of your tribe's bravest warriors.

Neteyam watched you go, his heart heavy with sorrow. He knew that he had to be strong for both of you, to hold down the fort and keep things running smoothly in your absence. But it was hard to do that when he felt like a part of him was missing.

For the next few weeks, Neteyam threw himself into his work, focusing on the tasks at hand and trying not to think about your absence. He worked hard to prove himself to your tribe and to his, showing them that he was a valuable member of the community and worthy of your love.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. It wasn't until you returned, when you came running into his arms, that he realized what it was.

"I'm home," you said, your eyes shining with happiness and pride. "And I couldn't have done it without you, Neteyam. Your love and support gave me the strength to face my fears and overcome them."

Neteyam held you tight, feeling his own strength and determination return. "I'm so proud of you," he whispered. "And I'm so glad you're home."

As you stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, Neteyam knew that he had made the right decision. No matter how hard the journey had been, it had brought you closer together than ever before. And as you looked into each other's eyes, you knew that you would face whatever challenges came your way, as long as you had each other by your side.

#avatar #avatar the way of water #awow #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam imagine #neteyam imagines #avatar imagine #avatar imagines

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kritischetheologie · 2 months

Note

how are the tortured souls of the ultimatum doing these days? miss them lots

Previously, in Episode 9, Decision Day began.

Episode 10: Decision Day (part 2!)

Daniel can feel the sweat dripping down his back as Max follows him away from Charles. He prays the black fabric of his suit jacket will hide it. The beads rolling down his nose he can't do much about, though he tries to discreetly wipe them with the side of his sleeve.

There's a ring on Max's finger, gleaming in the sunlight. Charles got there first, by fifteen minutes and half a decade. Daniel clings to the look on Max's face, wide-eyed and hopeful, and refuses to care about any of the rest of it.

Production seats them on a bench by a man-made lake, makes sure they're well lit and mic'd up before giving them the green light to talk. Daniel clears his throat, searching for the words, until blunt, beloved Max blunders straight into the dead air of Daniel's anxious silence.

"It is of course very rude of you to be here right now," Max says. "Charles and I were just celebrating our engagement, and you should not have interrupted us in our happy moment."

Daniel feels his hands clench into fists. "Happy?" He asks. "Am I supposed to believe that he makes you happy?"

Max looks so puzzledly at Daniel that he realizes, like he should have sooner, that the only person Max is capable of lying to is himself. "Of course he makes me happy," he says, tongue catching on his front teeth on the s sound. Daniel wants to trap it between his own, bite it off, so Charles never gets to hear him mispronounce another word.

"You were crying," Daniel says. "You were both crying."

"It was a meaningful moment," Max says, his blue eyes glinting, steely and petulant. "You maybe do not understand making a commitment this big, having a relationship this serious, because you are not such a serious person. But for Charles and me, it is the rest of our lives. It is the biggest thing we will ever do."

"I didn't understand before I met you," Daniel says. "I wasn't, alright, yeah, I wasn't a serious person. And sure, I'm still not serious, not in the way Charles is. But I don't believe that you want that, Maxy." He feels his throat catch on the pet name. "I think you like that I'm a little silly, because it makes you feel like you can be too. And maybe the only reason I even came on this show is because I wasn't ready to promise somebody forever, and we all know I never thought I'd be, with anyone, but you're different. You've made me different. As long as I'm still me, and you're still you, I'm going to love you. I can't not. That sounds pretty serious to me."

Max's face is turned away, but Daniel doesn't let that stop him. "And I know that what you feel for me is different too. You said it yourself. You broke the rules to message me, when you were back with him, because you knew there was something missing. You know there always will be, as long as you're with anyone other than me."

"I feel safe with Charles," Max says. "I have told you enough about my life that you will of course understand why that is so important to me."

Daniel takes Max's hands in his own, ring and all. "I know, baby," he says. "But I promise you, as long as you live, you'll be safe with me too. You don't have to choose between being safe and being happy. You get to have both."

Daniel gets up from his seat and kneels. Finally, he pulls out the box that's been digging into his hipbone for an hour. The ring he'd picked out for Max is delicate, an unfinished gray diamond set in a soft yellow gold. "Max Emilian Verstappen," he says. Max finally looks at him, his eyes full of tears. "Being trial married to you has changed my life forever, and I refuse to leave here without you. I will give you everything Charles ever would, and one more thing: I will love you to the point of insanity, and give you the chance to do the same. Marry me."

"I already told Charles I would marry him!" Max wails. "I can't just marry you instead."

"Sure you can," Daniel says, already sliding Charles's ring off of Max's finger. Let Max stop him if he really wants. "You can do everything you want, for the rest of your life."

The pause, after he says it, feels drawn out for cinematic effect. Then Max tackles Daniel to the ground, covering his face with wet, snot-filled kisses, before Daniel can even get the diamond onto his finger. "You have to say yes, Maxy," Daniel says when they finally resurface for air. He laughs, delirious with delight. "It only counts if you say yes for the cameras."

"Yes, yes, please, yes, I'll marry you," Max says, clinging to Daniel like he'll never let go. Daniel is never going to let him.

The knock at George's hotel room door had been preceded by another, 10 minutes earlier: hair and makeup, and a lighting and camera person, so he can look the right amount rumpled and stunned when the real knock finally comes.

The real knock is Sebastian, tie undone and collar unbuttoned, eyes red-rimmed with obvious despair. "Can I come in?" he asks. There might be a slur to his speech, though George wouldn't dare say for sure.

"Of course, please, make yourself at home," George says, leading Seb over to the sitting area. "Can I get you anything? A glass of wine? Some water?"

"Wine would be lovely," Sebastian says. "You're always so lovely." George is half a glass into a bottle of red, and he tops himself up as he pours a healthy measure into another reflective gold goblet and hands it to Seb.

"To us," Sebastian toasts, clinking glasses with George. "It turns out we were the only adults in the room, after all."

The phrase had come up in one of their first conversations, when George had commiserated with Sebastian that it felt like they were the only ones there who truly wanted marriage, not Instagram followers, not a free vacation, not even the fantasy of true love. Just the everyday, grownup reality of marriage. They'd laughed about it a few more times, after the disastrous night out and the fights over who was fucking whom, for instance, but George has never heard Seb use the words with this much edge.

"Lewis..." he begins. Seb cuts him off with a shake of his head.

"Is a selfish, immature bastard," he finishes. "Who's more afraid of growing up than he is of hurting me."

"That sucks," George says, for lack of anything better to say. He'd really thought that the ultimatum would work for Seb and Lewis, in a way he'd never really expected it to work for him and Alex. Lewis was old enough to get serious, and Sebastian was a hard person to imagine saying no to. If they couldn't figure it out, what hope was there for anyone else?

"It really does," Sebastian agrees, taking another swig from his glass. "I've never been so wrong about someone before."

George doesn't know what to say to that, either. He sips his own wine.

"We could just do it, I guess," Sebastian says. "Get married. We get along well enough. The sex was lovely. You're lovely. Maybe in today's world this part, the whole getting two people to agree to work at it thing, is the hard part. Maybe if two people both want to get married, that's a better foundation than anyone else can hope for."

"You don't really believe that," George says. "It feels true today, maybe, but I believe in both of us. We're both fucking catches, who anyone would be lucky to marry."

"Then why don't we just marry each other?" Seb asks, frustrated. "If I'm such a fucking catch, why won't you marry me?"

"Because you don't love me," George answers matter-of-factly, feeling like the only adult left on the planet, let alone in the room. "And you want to love whoever you marry. You believe in true love. That's why you came here in the first place. That's what you want."

"Yeah? Well, what do you want, then?" Sebastian asks him, accusatory.

George shrugs. "I want to be with someone who wants to be with me," he says. "Not just with somebody. Even if that means being alone for a while." It feels true as he says it. He'd loved Alex, he still loves Alex, some part of him will always love Alex, but he's tired of working so hard to keep him from running away. Some strange, nauseous part of him is grateful he won't have to anymore.

"But it's not fair," Sebastian whines.

"It's reality TV," George says. "The joke's on us for being crazy enough to think this would end any other way."

"I thought he would say yes," Sebastian says. "I thought I was more important to him than anything else."

"Why would you expect that, if you didn't feel that way about him?" George asks. "You don't love him more than you love the institution of marriage, so why should he love you more than he hates it?"

Even as George feels the wine from Sebastian's goblet splash into his face, he already knows it's going to become a reaction gif someday.

Charles has been drinking alone in the hotel bar for a little longer than an hour when Alex sidles up next to him.

"This seat taken?" he asks. Charles shakes his head.

"What happened?" Alex asks as he sits down, even though production probably already told him, because they want to get Charles on camera telling him, in case he cries again. Or something. Charles refuses to give them the satisfaction.

"He picked Daniel," Charles says. "I lost. He won. Game over."

"If you ask me," Alex says, motioning to the bartender for a glass of the same wine Charles is drinking, "it's for the best. If you weren't ready to marry him a month ago, it's stupid to think you're really ready now." Alex's voice is so calm, so reasonable. It makes Charles want to scream.

"But if he wanted to marry me a month ago, he can't be serious about marrying Daniel," Charles objects. "By the same fucking logic. And he is. So clearly this process does something, but apparently what it does is help him realize he loves someone else more than me."

Charles has cried enough today that his eyes stay dry, but he feels his face twist anyway, his throat painfully tight around the words.

"Well, fuck him, then," Alex says. "Go find your own Daniel Ricciardo. The actual Daniel Ricciardo almost picked you over Max anyway. Hey, think how crazy that would have been, if you'd been with Daniel instead. Maybe you'd be the one head over heels. Maybe his dick is like, magic."

Charles glares at Alex. "You are not helping, mate."

Alex shrugs. His stupid grin has no right to be so tempting, on a day like this. "All I'm saying is, the universe is weird, and you're hot. Other fish in the sea and all that."

"I don't want other fish," Charles says.

"I shouldn't offer you a pity hookup, then, should I?" Alex asks. When Charles just stares at him, he breaks into nervous laughter. "What, don't you wish we had given it the old college try, at least once?"

Charles shrugs. "You are pretty sexy," he admits. "I thought about it. But you never seemed interested. I didn't think you wanted other fish, either."

"Yeah, I don't think I did, really," Alex says. "I'm not sure why I even came on this show, frankly. I never really thought it would work."

"But it did work for you," Charles says. "You realized you wanted to be alone, and now you are. Everybody got what they wanted, except me. It worked for everybody except me. Because I am not loveable."

Alex slings an arm around Charles's shoulder, and Charles thinks about shrugging it off, but decides to let it stay. "You're loveable as fuck," he says. "You'll see. In a month you're going to be drowning in dick while I sit at home watching Love Island and contemplating whether I'd have any luck in the villa."

Charles almost chokes on his wine laughing in surprise. "No, no, no, you have to promise me," he says to Alex. "No more dating shows."

"I can't believe you," Alex says, laughing, his arm still around Charles. "You don't think I'd do well on Love Island!"

Charles is halfway through saying "that's not what I--" when Alex leans in to kiss him. His mouth is soft, warm, his breath still a little minty under the wine, like someone had slipped him a mint before he walked in.

By the time Jenson makes it to the gazebo, Lando's been shuttled around the park all day, gazebo to lake to promenade and back, and his nose is starting to sunburn. Jenson's eyes crinkling at the corners as he sees Lando make none of that matter. It's so cringe Lando would puke if anyone else said it out loud.

"Hey, sweetie peetie," Jenson says, half-laughing at the face Lando makes. Lando never should have mentioned he hates pet names. "Having a good day?"

Lando rolls his eyes. "Daniel was relieved I dumped him," he says. "And he had a ring in his pocket, so good luck to him and Max, I guess. Weirdly, I'd still go to that wedding. I like Max a lot."

Jenson looks at Lando carefully, the Active Listening Face, as Lando's dubbed it, in full swing. "You didn't want it to be you?" He sits next to Lando on the gazebo bench as Lando shrugs, kicking at a loose stone beneath his foot.

"I mean, before this whole thing started, yeah," he says. "That's why I even came here in the first place. But not anymore, nah. People change, I guess. I think it's hard to love someone you never really get to know, and Daniel never actually let me get to know him. What about you, though? I thought you'd have ridden off into the sunset with Nico by now."

Jenson snorts. It's ridiculous, really, how a man that hot can make faces and sounds that are that cringe. Maybe that's why he's in his forties and still single, Lando thinks. "Nico proposed this morning, and I said no. I think I'm probably going to end up the villain of this season."

This time, Lando's the one who snorts. "Dude, Nico's a fucking douchebag," he says. "Also, Daniel and Max were totally DMing during the second round of trial marriages, so yeah, they'll probably sell it as a love story or whatever, but that's pretty shit of them. I'd be pissed if I cared."

Jenson looks annoyed, now, for some reason. "It's not uncool to have feelings, Lando," he says. "Caring about people is actually the coolest thing we ever do, I think."

"Yeah, but not when it's Daniel," Lando says. "If it was you who fell in love with someone else while you were supposed to be trial married to me, maybe that would hurt, I guess."

Jenson laughs, but there's something wrong with the sound, and his face doesn’t crack open the way it's supposed to. "You guess?"

Lando feels himself blushing, his heart racing, half fear, half excitement. "Yeah, I think it might totally suck, actually. Like it might be the worst thing to ever happen. Let's not."

"Well, it's a good thing there's no trial marriages in real life," Jenson says. "Have a great life, I guess."

He starts getting up to go. Lando reaches for his hand. "Wait, Jenson, that's not what I meant," he says. "Fuck, sorry, can we do this all over? What I meant was, if you're going to date me, can you please not leave? What I meant was losing you would be awful. What I meant was I love you, okay? There. I said it."

Jenson turns around, still holding Lando's hand, and kneels, like it's a single move of choreography. "You're shit at talking about your feelings, mate," he says, but he's smiling.

"I know," Lando says. "But you love me anyway, I think."

"And you're always putting words in my mouth!" Jenson adds. "But yes, I love you. So fuck it. Lando Norris, will you real life, no trial, no bullshit marry me?"

Lando laughs, pure delight filling his lungs and bubbling out like a bottle of champagne. "You're supposed to have a ring, you loser," he says. He looks around for the producers. "Hey, guys, can we get the ring guy on set? We need a ring."

"Um, technically," the closest girl from the production staff, Hannah, or something, says, "the rings are only supposed to be for the people who were issued The Ultimatum, because they've had a change of heart, so either of you could reuse the ring you originally proposed to your original partner with, or..."

"Fuck it," Jenson says, sweeping Lando into his arms. "We don't need rings."

He pulls Lando into a kiss that feels like a fucking Disney movie.

[And stay tuned for Episode 11, the post-season finale!]

Fifteen calls have gone straight to voicemail before Lewis forces himself to leave a message.

"Sebastian, pick up," he says. "I fucked up, and I know that, and I'm sorry. Can you please call me back so we can fucking talk about this?"

A sixteenth call goes again to voicemail. Lewis dims his phone and chucks it on the bed next to him, groaning in frustration.

"What's am's I going to do's, Roscoe?" he asks his dog, who just drools silently onto the hotel bedspread. "Fuck."

#the ultimatum au

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thepenultimateword · 5 months

Text

Too Tall Part Six

I missed my awkward space babies

||Part One||Part Two||Part Three||Part Four||Part Five||

Antolin held a hair tie in his teeth as he gathered his hair into a half-knot. His face was still pale, and his leg throbbed like hell, but he finally had the energy for an outing. Though, conscious to preserve that energy, he currently sat on the end of his bed, the wall mirror taken down and propped haphazardly in an open dresser drawer.

He turned his reflection from side to side as he ran his fingers through the top layer of tangles, scrutinizing the deep blue cross-wrap shirt from all angles. It had been a rather long time since he'd been on shore leave, so It had taken forever to find an outfit that wasn't a uniform or lounge clothes. The shirt's neck plunged a little low for comfort. It looked strange. Was that out of unfamiliarity or because it actually looked bad? He hadn't minded the look before, but now after several years of tight, high collars, he felt almost indecently exposed.

“You can’t be serious.”

Antolin briefly met Zae’s glaring eyes in the mirror. “What?" He took the hair tie in his hand and pulled the tail through two and a half times. "It’s just a walk.”

“You aren’t actually interested in that bloodmonger, are you?”

He picked up a hairpin with dangling blue glass beads and paused. Interested? Unai had been interesting since the moment she arrived on-station. But Zae was talking romantically, wasn't she? That was a much harder question. Antolin had always planned on having a relationship with another human--if his job ever gave him the time that was. Unai was about the furthest thing from a typical future that he could imagine. The culture, the planet...the height. Not bad...but complicated. Different. However, he had grown used to her presence. And the idea of going out to do something un-work related did make his heart speed a little fast. Not that any of that was enough to make sense of.

“I don’t know," he said. "Admittedly, it is a little strange. But I do like her. To what extent I’m still not sure. In any case, we're friends."

Zae frowned deeper, folding her long, slender arms. "She’s arrogant."

Antolin offered a half-shrug as he slid the pin into his bun. “She’s arrogant because she has a right to be. She does her job with a proficiency and vigor I’ve rarely seen.”

“Only because she’s trying to impress you. I swear, the rumors I've heard around the station since she's arrived. Does she have no shame?"

Rumors? He'd have to probe around about that once he was up and able again.

“I highly doubt she would have reached the rank of captain without a good work ethic.”

“Alright, but that doesn’t change that she's Ke'turian--an incredibly violent species. They take whatever they want by force. And you're human."

Antolin frowned at the implication. Did everyone see him as weak? He'd proven himself multiple times on the Zenith, enough times to get this position. Yet, sometimes, he had the impression that everyone was simply humoring him. His stripes held the threat of federal discipline, so they did as they were told. But they didn't actually respect him. Obviously whoever was letting in their enemies found him an easy target. And now Zae felt the need to fret over him as if he were a child. He even doubted his own abilities after that terrible fight with the Lasters.

But then there was Unai. She had said she'd battle alongside him. Surely a Ke'turian would know best about battle. It hadn't felt like a lie, even with her abrupt retreat after saying it.

He drew himself up in his seat. "I'm quite capable of defending myself against any threat. Ke'turians included." The cold tone clearly struck Zae because she immediately dropped her gaze. Satisfied, he allowed a little warmth back into his words as turned away from the mirror to face her head-on. "But I can hardly picture Captain Unai attacking me."

Zae remet his eyes, clearly unconvinced. "Be careful."

He rolled his eyes. "I will. Promise. Now," he grasped his crutch, shoving himself to his feet and limping a couple feet out from the bed. "How do I look?"

Zae sighed. "Like you think you're going on a date."

***

Unai's long stride had brought her to Hayes's door too quickly. She was at least 15 clicks too early. Knocking on the door now would be an embarrassment, another overeager display of her one-sided affections. That was...if they were one-sided. Because this was a date. Right? She'd at least intended it to be when she originally asked--or tried to ask. She wasn't certain what it was now that Hayes had taken ownership of the excursion.

Unai leaned back against the metal wall. She shouldn't ask. If Hayes hadn't intended anything by proposing a walk--which he probably hadn't--it would be uncomfortable to bring it up. Not to mention the recent gossip on the topic. She'd never been subtle, but it was a little ridiculous that her connection to Hayes was being so blown out of proportion now. She really hoped Hayes hadn't caught wind of any of it. She'd specifically left mention of it out of their conversations in case the bother affected his health or his opinion of her.

She checked her communicator's clock function. Still 13 clicks early. Maybe it was alright to be at least 5 clicks early. Punctuality was a virtue. So that only left 8 to go. Manageable.

She smoothed the front of her plain black tunic for probably the fifth time since putting it on. The collar settled comfortably just below her throat, only a little lower than that of her uniform, but the sleeveless nature of the garment had her a little uneasy. On Ke'tukar, bared arms to a potential mate were as obvious a signal for courtship as shouting it aloud; she doubted Hayes knew that, but it hadn't stopped her from wanting to do so anyway, just as her own personal declaration.

Another glance at her communicator. 5 more clicks. Well, maybe 10 clicks early would actually be fine.

Unai raised her hands to the door and hesitated. She'd been letting herself in these past weeks anyway. And Hayes didn't always hear the knock. Maybe she should simply enter as usual. That might even let Hayes know the stooping level of her expectations.

She pressed the door button, moving forward as the door slid open. And nearly ran into Lt. Zae in the process.

Unai backed up quickly as the Lieutenant's initial surprise faded, and she stepped into the hall, punching the door button back to closed as she did so.

"Captain." Her address was chilled as usual, and her silver eyes roamed up and down Unai's frame with an almost sick regard.

"Lieutenant," Unai returned through gritted teeth.

"Subtle are we?"

"Forgive me, Lieutenant, but I don't understand what you're implying."

Lt. Zae nodded at one of Unai's arms. "Ke'turian females woo the males by exposing their arms. A show of the strength you have to offer. I hope you are not expecting Commander Hayes to fall prey to such a spectacle."

Unai fought down the flutter of her collar and set her jaw.

"My clothing has no intention outside of its flattering fit, and even if it did, I don't see how it's any of your business."

Lt. Zae rose up to her full stringy height--a little higher than midchest--the already pinkish hue of her skin darkening with contempt. "Commander Hayes is my longtime colleague, commander, and friend. You expect me to be delighted at his dalliances with a Ke'turian military officer?"

Unai wished she could roar in the face of this disrespect. Bare her fangs, raise her collar, and challenge Lt. Zae to a combat of honor. But that would only upset Hayes and satisfy the Lieutenant's bad opinion of her. Instead, she let her fangs only show slightly. "Xersians and Ke'turians may have differing ideals, but I never knew a Xersian to be openly prejudiced toward an entire species."

"It's not the Ke'turian species trying to initiate courtship with Antolin. It is only one."

Unai knew it shouldn't matter, but that casual first name drop made her insides twinge. Lt. Zae really was on closer terms with Hayes. But that still did not excuse whatever she was being accused of. "Am I missing something, Lieutenant?"

"You Ke'turian’s are as aggressive when courting as you are when fighting. You expect me to trust a species that takes their mates by force?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't play innocent; I've read up on Ke'turian customs. Fighting other females to the death. Taking the males to husband--sometimes by physical force--without allowing any sort of choice. It's disgusting."

“What?” Unai cried, her collar flapping up irritatedly. “Maybe a few centuries ago! Where did you read that, a history book?"

"It was a modern study on various species' courting rituals."

"Written by who? A Xersian?"

"The libraries on Xersa have an extensive collection of research. All of which is heavily peer-reviewed and fact checked."

"Sounds like your libraries are trash, if that counts as heavily fact-checked. Ke'turian courtships are consensual. If I am denied, I will give up my pursuit entirely." It hurt to say aloud, like a rock sinking to the bottom of her stomach. But it was true. Her advances only went as far as Hayes accepted them. Maybe that was another reason she wasn't being totally forward. Once she received the official no, it was done. She'd rather bide her time in hopes of a one-day yes.

Lt. Zae blinked a few times. Taking in the offense and the claim all at once. Her face contorted from enraged, to considering, to flat. "I...will check a few more sources. However, my current trust remains nonexistent. If I hear of anything unsavory occurring on this 'walk', I will use my current commanding power to dismiss you from the station. Clear?"

"Perfectly," Unai growled. She maneuvered around the Xersian, pressing the door button with a large, intentional gesture. As it slid back, she stepped into Hayes' quarters without a second glance at the eyes piercing her back.

Hayes hastily pushed himself up on his crutch as she entered. "Captain Unai!"

"Commander!" she returned, nearly on choking the greeting. He wore a blue tunic-style shirt that cross-wrapped over his chest, but not before dipping just below his clavicle.

No. No. She was not going to be accused of ogling again.

Unai forced her gaze away from his elegant neck and the peeking portion of--despite his months in bed--a toned chest. She didn't know why she had expected him to be in uniform today. Maybe because besides the sleep clothing he wore in his quarters, she'd never seen him in anything else. He seemed like the type who would sleep in his uniform if it weren't for the discomfort and possible damage to the material.

It turned out averting her eyes from the outfit did nothing to save her. Haye's long, dark hair, fell in full curls over his shoulder, and the little tendrils that were too small to be pulled into his half bun framed his face in a messy, tousled sort of way. His eyes, as dark and deep as ever, studied her intensely.

She looked down at the floor before he could see the full extent of her admiration.

You mean attraction, she corrected internally. Who do you think you're kidding?

Well, if this wasn't a date, hopefully Hayes.

After a few moments, when no reproach or teasing remarks came, Unai forced her gaze back up. Hayes was still staring at her. Not the piercing, soul-exposing way he usually looked at her, but like...like he was caught up in a thought.

"Hayes?"

Hayes jolted and cleared his throat. "You, uh, look nice."

Unai mustered every bit of her strength to keep her collar pinned taughtly against her neck. "Thank you. So do you." She awkwardly extended her arm. "Shall we?"

Hayes limped forward and took gentle hold of the crook of her arm with his free hand. He smiled briefly up at her with what seemed like...nerves? No, it was probably just uneasiness about going out for the first time. His leg was probably pretty sore.

"So, Captain, what did you have planned?"

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