#of only telling you stories; you get to watch them do domestic things)

[monpalace]

ships .. (ocarina of time/majora's mask) link/reader, fierce deity/reader.

content .. the boys (separately) with a reader who feeds them well, and the fruits of their loving labor.

warnings .. unedited. no pronouns used (you/your). reader is implied to have more meat on their bones (vaguely). reader is in their housespouse era and they aren't even married (legally). non-graphic vomit and forgetting to eat mentioned (link). link and fierce deity are taller than reader. fierce deity is named aram for writings sake. reader is implied to be a god of sorts (fierce deity). fierce deity is literally my oc at this point.

notes .. my schnookums thought they could have big cheeks and get away from me? my cutie patooties thought that i wouldn't write about them eating right? my pookie bears thought that i wouldn't fulfill my duties as their #1? my baby faced sweethearts thought i wouldn't spend 2hrs looking for pictures like those? my favorite white boys? my honeybuns? my hollywood stars? my sugarpies?

i'll eat them. omnom

LINK has always been rather thin. That was especially the case when he was a child. Something about a Kokiri child's diet not fitting what a Hylian needed always kept him frail.

When you both were children, he had quickly gotten used to you plucking his arm when it was idle to compare his lack of fat to your surplus.

(He never minded. He always looked forward to being reminded why he put one foot in front of the other every day during his fight against Ganon, or repeated cycle after cycle when it came to Majora.)

(Funnily enough, you had always made fun of him for being shorter than you as a child as well. You always mentioned he needed to drink more milk and eat more cuccos so he'd one day pass you.)

It was when you were able to cook more than simple meals and wouldn't risk burning down your cottage that you would invite (force) Link over more often than you already have.

Link had always tried to limit his visits to when he absolutely needed to. Free food, bed, shelter, care, supplies, clothes, bathes (the list was endless), and whatnot were always appreciated, but he never wanted to become to comfortable lest he wake up one day (or night. Or afternoon. His internal clock was always ruined when it came to sleeping at your cabin) and decide not return to the world outside.

He does his best to turn down any seconds, or thirds, or fourths, or fifths, and so on you may offer him when he does stay long enough for you to finish whatever extravagant meal you made just for him.

Past experiences often make him sick (with trauma or physically) and result in him vomiting his food, but there's always more from you to replace what he had just eaten and the meal before (if he remembered to eat it).

What he can't finish at the table (or on the sofa, or in the bed), he takes with him when he leaves. Link is respectful in all meanings of the word and hates to leave anything to waste.

When it comes to thanks, he either finds ways to help around your cottage or brings back items from new regions for you to cook. Whether it be repairing the busted bathroom door you've been complaining about before fixing your water faucet so the pressure is what you want it to be, or bringing back a spice the Gorons specialize in you've mentioned wanting to try, Link typically feels his gifts fall lackluster when compared to your treatment of him.

(He trusts your skill and creativity enough to know you won't poison him on accident. He never brings back any recipes or instructions either if it's not a dangerous material.)

(He's always excited to try whatever new dish you've concocted, so his only condition is that you wait for his return to cook whatever it is he brought you. "A celebration, of sorts," he calls it.)

A look in a lone puddle had told him his cheeks had gotten fatter. He supposes he now understands why he was refused entry into one of the pubs when he had to retrieve Malon and Cremia's uncle.

He had noticed that the details of his arms were less visible through his shirts when a Goron had pinched one,— not in the same way you did when you were younger— he had mentioned that he had an amount of muscle and fat to be proud of before asking him to join a tournament. Any attempts prior to were quickly shut down.

During a day of horseback archery with the Gerudo, the sweltering sun had gotten to him enough that he had to remove his tunic and the shirt underneath to feel some sort of relief. One of the women who were training him took a look at his stomach and nodded approvingly, mentioning that he should praise his soon-to-be spouse for feeding him so well.

The last nail in the coffin came when he was riding Epona into Castle Town. His tunic felt uncomfortably small and his tights (curse those damned tights) felt as thought they were stretched more across the expanse of his thighs than they usually were.

He's back in your cottage when he finally vocalizes his thoughts, preferring you to any other tailor or seamstress in the country. "I've gotten to big for my clothes," he either sighs or signs to you while eating. His gaze held a thousand yards in them, idly watching his clothes move with the wind.

The tunic, hat, tights, boots hang outside the window on a string connected to your shed. They had to be washed after a (admittedly well-planned— even if they don't think) ambush by a hoard of chu-chus.

You throw a hazy look to them before returning to the bowl you were tirelessly mixing. You were making dinner, he thinks, or maybe it was in preparation for the big breakfast you were making with the variety of bread from the Gerudo he brought back.

You'd already given him a large snack earlier.

The thought makes him look down at the plate in his lap. Every spot of it was filled and piled with bread, and eggs, and meats, and jams. He couldn't see the white bottom of it even as he pushed and prodded around.

He takes a bite of it gratefully.

"I saw you before you left not even three days ago. You fit everything fine enough to me." At some point you had stopped stirring and held the bowl out to him. Link grabs something off the plate and dips it in without a thought, eating it before responding with a hum of approval. "I can make adjustments to then, if you'd like."

You leave the bowl with him before attending to something on the stove.

"Please," he responds, halfway through another bite of the (what he now recognized as) Gerudo bread and cocoa dip you had made. "Different pants would be nice, though. It'd be a nice excuse to finally get rid of those tights." Both tasted sweet by themselves, he realized, but left a calmer aftertaste that he'd like to savor.

"You've always hated the tights," you hum in response, moving from the stove to the coolers that he'd built you after bringing you a large fish that only lived in Zora's Domain. "What would you want to move on to now? Leggings? Shorts?"

Link watches you remove a pitcher from one of the coolers. He isn't sure how long it's been in there (he doesn't even remember watching you make it), but he assumes you took some ice out so the pink liquid wouldn't freeze over into complete ice.

He watches you try to take a cup from one of the cupboards, watching you struggle to grab his favorite one from the higher shelves.

He stands from the chair sat just outside the kitchen (he liked to watch you cook when you had the time), placing the bowl and plate on one of the many cleared counters (you liked to clean as you worked), and grabs the cup for you.

Link lowers his head with his hand when he hands the cup off, head resting upon the crown of yours as he watches you pour the pink liquid into it, idle arms wrapping around your waist as he makes some slick comment about eating enough milk and cuccos for your liking.

You don't elbow him in the stomach like you might have when you were younger and he doesn't hold the cup above your head teasingly like when he was younger to (— then again, he had to climb a counter to get it out of your reach.)

Instead, you wordlessly pass the cup back to him and he wordlessly drinks it despite not knowing what it was.

He likes it, as he does all your works, and notes how it was both sweet and sour. A taste that fills both his childhood need for sweet all the time and his older palate's need for other tastes.

Handing the cup back, Link tilts his head so he can press a kiss to your crown. "Anything you'd think I'd look good in," he finally responds, the flavor of the moment leaving a tooth-achingly sweet taste on his tongue.

ARAM is often humbled in your abode.

He may have acted arrogant to others in his younger years and horrifyingly aloof now that he's a more seasoned god, but he never failed to (willingly) crumble to his knees when in your presence during either times of his life.

He had no need for the sustenance mortals require, prayers and whispers of his name were always good enough for him, but he'd kiss the ground you walk on if it meant you'd bless him with another food you've created (he already does).

Aram is the provider to your fire-lit home, an arrangement the two have been living by for as long as he can remember.

He is the sword to your shield. The arrow to your quiver. The moon to ever burning sun (which he did create for you, after all). The wound for your gauze. The life to your world— and one cannot live peacefully without the other.

Your food had quickly become an addiction to Aram. He'd eat as much as often as he could, giving little response to when questioned why he loves it so much.

("Because it comes from your hands," he once explained hours later when you were sleeping. "Your hands, that create all. That nourish all it touches and replenishes all that is extinct. I am your antithesis, and I must destroy that which I love."

(You never had the heart to ask again.)

He has enough sense to slow his eating around you. One concerned comment about him choking was enough for him to indulge in needless your wishes, but a question regarding its taste had him eating like a mortal.

His relationship with food prior to getting hooked onto yours was brief and filled with obligation. He never ate to feel full, only to make the people he was fighting with shut up and leave him out of whatever conversation they were having.

It never lingered in his stomach like a warm fireplace that others had described it as. It never made him warm and filled with love. It never gave him the energy he needed to keep fighting.

It just went through his digestive tract (why did he even have one?) and disappeared like an heavy smog finally dispersed by a strong gust of wind before he had to fight again.

When a war was over, you always came. You took the battle-shaken soldiers away when it was their time and healed their ailments if they were able to withstand everything. You went through war-stricken cities and set everything as they should have been. You feed and clothe and bandage and sew and reunite and Aram isn't sure why he lingered.

He's seen the effects of what you can do long after you've left. He knows of the good you're capable of doing just as much as he knows the bad he can cause.

He craves your touch when he sees it at its peak. He indulges himself when he sees it first-hand.

Aram understands what the soldiers mean when you beckon him closer and offer him food, uncaring of how he stands tall above all else.

The soup warms his insides. The flavor resides on his tongue hours after he's finished it. His energy, though far from depleted, had made him feel as though he were a youngling again.

He craves more.

The addiction to your presence and your food (and subsequently, you) had started then. It's an event he could easily recall when asked, one he would happily recount to you if you ever forgot where his devotion to you started.

Meeting after a war or battle had become frequent enough that he had finally learned your name; not some silly alias those who followed you often referred to you as. He felt like one of those lovesick children soldiers talk about, tripping over himself and his words.

He's curious to you, an admirer more than a stalker, fortunately. When he wasn't on the battlefront, he was always hovering around as you worked, busying his hands with whatever task you've given him after noticing his lack of mortality.

You treated him well; doing so even after the era of wars were long gone and he was seldom needed. You cared for him as though he were one of the many wounded soldiers with no family to return to once all was done and said— and to an extent, he was.

He's eating when you bring attention to his softer thigh.

You were reading to him, a romantic thriller that held as much of his attention that your captivating voice did. His gaze focused heavily on you, watching as you lick your lips after each page, how your eyes rake over the page to ensure the tone you speak the next sentence in is correct. He notes how you shift less often, how he doesn't have to move you further up his lap so you can lean against his stomach.

"It's not as painful to sit on you anymore." Aram doesn't think that line was in the book, but he doesn't mention it. It dawns that you were talking to him when you look up, using your finger as a bookmark as you closed the book around it. "Have you gained weight?"

He's a big man; it's a fact he's known since the beginning of his existence. He has large arms, muscles well know for how he snatched prey up to bring back to you. His height made it a simple feat to reach into the trees and capture any avian you wanted to experiment with that night. His legs that would stomp on any fish swimming downstream during a day at the lake you suggested.

He was sculpted by the Goddesses themselves. If they hadn't meant for his body to change along with his lifestyle, they wouldn't have designed him to dough.

(He'd never be ashamed in the fact either. He was contented knowing he had someone to dote over him constantly; a sentiment he had gained after recalling a conversation with wedded soldiers.)

(Also, the prospect of defacing what the Goddesses had long since disgraced was exciting, in a way.)

Aram doesn't look at himself, already well-acquainted with his body as his brow raises in amusement. "You feed me well, My Grace," he responds with a peck on your temple, "I would hope to become more comfortable for your pleasure." He refused to stop eating as he indulged you in conversation, the leg you sat on jumping once in place of his busy hands.

You hum that sweet, quiet hum of yours that Aram has come to associate with your contentedness (he aimed to hear to several tomes every day). Removing yourself from his lap, discarding the novel to the side as you raise your hands to cup his cheeks. "It suits you. You look healthy. Happy."

"Did I look ill before?"

You don't fluster as you might have like in your younger years. He's honored to have grown alongside you, reminiscent of the older couples you've both watched and escorted when he was still an active god.

The same filling feeling your food gives him fills his heart. The lingering sense of peace that he felt since meeting you dancing through his body when your thumbs rub the apples of his cheeks, the softest and fondest gaze anyone's ever given him in your eyes.

"No," you answer in a quiet voice only he'd be able to hear. "Never. You've always looked perfect."

And Aram has never been more thankful that he separated himself from the Goddesses as he preens under your touch. Never been more thankful that he lingered after the war was done. Never been more thankful that he had readjusted his psyche to more readily accept your gifts and affection.

He frees a hand to cradle to back of your head, a threat to all that aren't you, and brings you beneath his chin in a protective gesture. "As have you," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. "And as you always will be."

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello! Can I request smt with Luocha, Dan Heng, Argenti and Boothill? (Separate, and dw if u don’t write for boothill ^^)

You’re dating them and randomly call them husband just to see their reaction. You just say it so casually too during a convo with maybe a friend or a family member

Argenti: ‘Argenti might as well be my husband at this point.’ You said to your friend after retelling a story regarding yourself and Argenti.

‘Awww! I wish Royland was more like Argenti.’ Your friend groaned, glaring daggers at the back of their boyfriend’s head.

Argenti visibly perked up at this, his eyes and smile were practically glowing. Did he hear you right, you consider him as a potential Husband? The gods have answered his prayers and quelled any worries that he might’ve had beforehand. For Argenti fully intends to be your husband one day and until then will commit himself to proving to you why he would make an excellent husband.

The moment he met you, to the moment you begun dating, all Argenti could think of was what it would be like being your devoted husband, your soul partner for the rest of your lives. No one else will do for Argenti but you, and he’s so loyal and extremely devoted to being your partner that the thought of looking at anyone else was so blasphemous; so much so that he’d rather hand you his eyes on a gold platter then ever be tempted by any other.

Argenti has had many dreams about your domestic life as a happily married couple, a happily married couple who were very much still in their honeymoon phase, but when he’s your husband that honeymoon phase would never fade away and die. He would make every day feel just as unique and special as the last few.

He might as well have ‘y/n’s husband’ as his name instead of Argenti because of how much he would use it when introducing himself to anyone new.

Needless to say by the end of the month to the day you and Argenti were officially married and more happy than ever.

Luocha: ‘Luocha would make an amazing husband, don’t you agree?’ You asked your friend, eyeing your boyfriend across the room for his reaction.

‘I thought Luocha was already your husband.’ Your friend asked, genuinely confused.

the moment Luocha hears his name being spoken he doesn’t think much of it, but when it was in the same sentence of as the word husband, that well and truly caught his attention. However it doesn’t take him long to realise what you were doing, but once he realised what was going on it was already too late, as the reaction you pulled out of him was very much a genuine one.

Neither of you had talked about it but according to your friend, you must’ve came across as to others a married couple anyways. So much so that even if you were to ever make it a reality nothing much would change at all for anyone other then himself and you; Yet that didn’t change the fact that the seed was planted and has taken ahold inside of Luocha’s mind as he walked towards you and your friend, placing a hand to the small of your back as he politely greeted your friend, acting none the wiser.

Well your friend might not pick up the hidden cues that told you that he knew, but you did, you could pick up his cues as easily as breathing which makes attempts at teasing one another all the more fun and interesting; Luocha could read you like the back of his hand and you were only starting to get the hang of reading him.

So the look he gives you may not seem like much to other people but to you, it was him telling you that he knew what you were doing, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him in victory because he took the bait you had put in place for him. You didn’t need to hear him to know that the first thing he’d ask once you took your leave would be:

‘I don’t think it’s wise of you to tease your husband. Do you?’

Boothill: ‘you and Boothill? Now that I didn’t see coming.’ Your friend joked as if you hadn’t openly said the most outrageous, thirsty shit about your now boyfriend.

‘Watch it because sooner or later he’ll become my husband.’ You joked back as you and your fiend shared a laugh.

Boothill flashes his sharp teeth in a wicked smirk upon hearing you call him your husband.

Oh now you’ve done it. He’s not going to let you live down the fact that you had called him your husband. He refuses to because he wants to see how you’d react to it. So he’ll make his presence know by confidently striding up to you and resting his hand on your waist, squeezing it, before smashing his sharp teeth once more but this time in a Cheshire grin.

‘Husband?’ He’d ask. ‘Have I secretly been promoted from being your boyfriend without my knowledge? I’m honoured sweetheart, but warn a fella next time before you go and pull this sort of stunt off. Oh wait,’ he pauses before continuing. ‘There’s not going to be a next time because you ain’t gonna be getting rid of me anytime soon. You’re stuck with me forever sugar.’ He cackles as he shamelessly swats you on the ass -hard- for good measure.

Yeah your plan kind of back fired on you because now your the one with the extremely flustered face, and now an sore ass that’ll become a bruise on top of that.

Boothill loved the idea of you belonging to him and only him and vice versa. He’s a possessive prick who’ll gladly put a bullet of two between the eyes of any bastard stupid enough to look at you for longer than a second.

He’s not one to share his treasure and never will be. You’re his now unto forever. Also he’d probably jokingly call himself your husband whenever you meet new people along your journey, and or scaring suitors off by screaming that you/him were married. (You very much weren’t but it works in keeping creeps away, so that’s a bonus.)

He plays on it so much that it’s an inside joke between the two of you and the two of you alone.

Dan Heng: ‘my husband Dan Heng, is just outside getting fresh air, he’s not fond of overcrowded social gatherings.’ You explained to your parents who shared a look of understanding.

Dan Heng, who had finally came back into the house, overheard this conversation and immediately his face burst into flames as his palms became sweaty all of a sudden and his breath hitched in his throat.

Husband?

Him?

Is that why he’s been invited for your family vacations with your parents, grandparents and relatives with their spouses of their own? All because they thought he was your husband? Dan Heng thought he was going to faint then and there from how many times he’s mentioned himself as your husband.

You’ve been together for a while now, but the fact that you were calling him your husband had him feeling some type of way that went beyond comprehension. He likes the idea of being your husband and has had a couple of shameless dreams where you very much were married and had a small family of your own, living a peaceful and loving life together and growing old together, still very much in love. However he always seemed to be at a loss for words when wondering whether in an alternate reality his dreams were your lived reality.

Dan Heng has so many thoughts on being your husband, one of them being that he’d be grateful in being chosen to be your life partner, while the other had still yet to find the words to voice his desire in being your husband aloud without being overcome by his own emotions. So until then he’ll have to suffer you freely calling him your husband in the presence of your parents, not that he’s complaining but he’d rather not be asked why his face still went so red when being called your husband, especially after so long of being assumedly married by your parents.

[eponymous-rose]

A little thing I'm also really appreciating in this rewatch of TNG is something that seems to have all but disappeared in the age of tightly plotted, entirely serialized eight-episode miniseries TV: little slice-of-life moments that don't serve any driving plot purpose except to flesh out the world a little bit.

The scene with Picard's hairdresser earnestly telling him how he should better have handled diplomatic relations with the Romulans doesn't serve a deep narrative purpose in the sense of echoing the themes of the episode or foreshadowing some important moment with that hairdresser. It's there to share a little picture of the world - yes, there are still hairdressers in the future, yes, there's still awkward small-talk with said hairdressers. There's also the nice little reminder in all these domestic scenes that normal life is happening aboard the Enterprise, families and all, which adds to the sense of danger when the ship's in peril and paints the moments of war and conflict as uncomfortable juxtapositions. It's not there to serve the plot, it's there to build the world. And the characters! Picard's mostly-polite demurs, the reveal that Riker has been 100% humoring this guy like "oh man, we should've thought of that, you're so right". There's no reason to include it beyond reveling in the world.

I really miss that about a lot of modern TV - we get these needle-sharp hard dives through a world, coherent and concise and often quite lovely, but trying to take in the scope of the world around that plot is like watching out the window of a fast-moving train: you're getting nothing more than vague impressions at a remove. It's the difference between a guided tour of a museum and a self-guided tour: sometimes, at some museums, you just want to meander around a bit at your own pace and let it wash over you.

Given the choice, I'll almost always fall deeper in love with a show that's criticized for "filler" or "monster of the week" because I know it'll give its characters and its universe time to grow. That's what drew me to TV in the first place - I adore movies, but there's only so much you can do with character and world in 2-3 hours. Lately a lot of TV seems to be seen as a rather long movie with the odd break where you get up to make popcorn midway through. I think there's something unique about the format of television that's being lost in this attempt to emulate the structure of a movie, in the same way that some novels feel like they might as well just have been novellas or short stories. It's not just a longer version of the same thing. It has the potential to be something entirely different.

Give me the bloated 20-odd-episode seasons of the 90s and 00s, where characters grew and changed slowly, by inches, and we had the time to change along with them. I love the new stuff, don't get me wrong, but I sure miss that specific brand of mess.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Falling Slowly

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!rookie!reader

Summary: You are Tim's newest rookie, and his favorite. He treats you differently, able to see that your past affects you, and the little things build up until you can't deny your feelings.

Warnings: so much fluff, brief angst, domestic violence (Tim and reader respond to a call & allusions to past dv against reader), one scene is inspired by "The Switch" (1x4)

Word Count: 4.0k+ words

A/N: This doesn't really fit in any specific season, so I put characters in the roles I wanted them to have and just made up some names to fill in the gaps. Hopefully everything makes sense. Please let me know what you think!

Picture from Pinterest

“What are you doing here?” Angela asks, surprised to see Tim.

Furrowing his brows, Tim answers, “I’m here for the TO meeting.”

Angela tilts her head back and groans, passing Nyla a 10-dollar bill.

“She thought you’d give up your position for Metro,” Nyla explains.

“I’d like to, someday, but not today,” Tim replies.

“20 bucks this is his last one,” Angela says to Nyla. “He still has the open invite to Metro and his patience can’t take many more boots.”

Nyla reaches to shake Angela’s hand as Tim rolls his eyes and walks away.

“Let me see his rookie first, then we’ll talk,” Nyla decides. “I’ve got a feeling a lot is going to change around here.”

“Like what?” Angela asks. “Nyla! Like what?”

✯✯✯✯✯

Walking into the Mid-Wilshire station on your first day as a rookie is both nerve-wracking and exciting. You’ve heard stories about boots making it through the academy to fail once they reach this level, but you’re determined. When you were a kid, you were in bad situations more often than any child should be, but kind police officers changed your life, and you’d like to do the same.

Waving to one of your police academy friends, you sit in the bullpen, waiting impatiently to learn which officer behind you will be your training officer. Getting the perfect training officer is up to fate, based on what you’ve heard, and your TO can make or break your career.

“Good morning, boots! I am Watch Commander Wade Grey. You have made it through the police academy, but don’t expect a pat on the back, your work is just beginning. This is the time to prove yourself, to show your TO, me, and this city why you deserve to be a police officer.” He pauses, moving around the podium to add, “If you should be a police officer.”

As you listen intently, striving to remember every word Sergeant Grey says, two detectives stand at the back of the room and evaluate the rookies.

“He’s only got one shot,” Angela mutters.

“If he gets the pretty one in the front, I’m not taking the bet,” Nyla says.

Angela looks up a row, her brows raising when she sees you. “If he ends up with her, we’re starting a station-wide pool and getting rich,” she adds.

“Now, it’s time to be assigned to your judge, jury, and executioner,” Wade says with a smile. “Or, as we call them, TOs. Our former rookie turned TO, Nolan: you’ve got Edward Henderson.

 Officer Nolan nods at Henderson, and you remember his story: a late-life rookie who got a golden ticket. Part of you wants to work with him and learn why he decided on law enforcement, but you only nod at Henderson before turning back around.

“Lance Vincent, you are with our newest TO, Eliza Reagan.”

Wade says your name with a smile that seems a bit more genuine than before. “Officer Bradford, last but not least,” he says as he assigns you your new TO.

You look over your shoulder, a small smile on your face as he nods at you. He is undeniably attractive, and you hope it doesn’t cause any problems.

“Oh, he’s a goner,” Nyla whispers under her breath when you smile at Tim.

“Should we tell him?” Angela replies.

“I think we’ll have to.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Something about you bothers Tim. Not in the usual, grumpy-with-a-new-boot way, but he has a sense that you’re different. 

“Nice to meet you,” you say, walking to Tim at the back of the bullpen.

He stands, offering a calloused hand to shake.

“I’m not going to pretend this is going to be easy or fun,” he tells you. “Being a rookie is the hardest part of your career, but if you’re a good cop under the uniform, you’ll be fine.”

Nodding, you promise to do your best and express your willingness to learn everything you can from him.

“Good,” he says. “Meet me outside the war room. We’re not wasting any time, understood?”

“Yes, sir,” you answer.

Tim watches you walk away, and when you stop to let someone carrying a large box cross in front of you, Tim realizes that you’re hurting, or were hurting not long ago. The underlying need to help people is something he recognizes.

“She’s pretty,” Angela muses, walking to Tim’s side.

“Though you know that,” Nyla adds, smiling on his other side.

“She’s a boot. No different than the other rookies,” Tim argues, though his gaze is still on your back as you sign for your bags and weapons.

“Sure, she is. Why don’t you go put her through a Tim test?” Angela suggests.

Tim rolls his eyes as he leaves, wondering what hurt you bad enough to make you want to be a cop. He became a cop despite his hurt, but you’re young and bright – and too good for him – so there must be something in you that makes you worthy of this. More worthy (and more beautiful) than any rookie before you.

✯✯✯✯✯

Several officers wish you luck, with one or two warning you about so-called “Tim Tests” while you wait for Tim behind the shop.

“Don’t tell me you have a checklist,” Tim begins, drawing your attention away from the shop tires.

“No, sir,” you answer. “Just being vigilant, I suppose. I’d hate to start my first day with a flat tire.”

Tim nods, asking where the war bags are. You tell him how you checked the contents and loaded them into the trunk, and he appreciates your brief explanation.

“Good work. The easy part is over,” Tim says. He seems to weigh his options before deciding, “You drive. Show me what you’ve got.”

He follows you to the driver’s side door, opening it as he reminds you of standard shop procedures. As Tim closes the door, you wonder if he’s a gentleman or if he followed you because he doesn’t trust you to drive correctly. Either way, you know what you’re doing, and you won’t let the man in the passenger seat distract you… too much.

Driving toward Wilshire Boulevard for patrol, Tim looks out the window. 

“Blue Camaro has an expired plate,” you alert.

“Call it in.”

You do so, hitting the sirens as you engage the traffic stop. Tim raises a hand to stop you from getting out.

“Remember your training. Don’t let the situation get away from you.”

His words linger in your mind, and you complete the stop with no problem, issuing a ticket and returning to the shop.

“I’m driving,” Tim alerts you, spreading his hand across the small of your back as he directs you to the sidewalk.

“Did I do something wrong?” you ask when he starts the car.

“No,” he answers bluntly.

You lick your lips nervously, turning your attention to your surroundings. Suddenly, Tim pulls over and hits the brakes.

“I’ve been shot, boot. Where are we?” Tim demands.

Furrowing your brows in surprise at his actions, you answer, “Intersection of 12th and Meadowbrook, west of Redondo. There are several hospitals in a five-mile radius, but only one has a trauma center.”

Tim pulls out wordlessly, continuing his patrol route. Tim doesn't say much else throughout the few hours between his first test and lunch. He lets you point things out, answers your questions about the area and procedures, and glances at you out of the corner of his eye. When he pulls up to a small circle of food trucks where several police officers are waiting, he turns toward you.

“You’re doing well. I’m not neglecting to give you good feedback for any reason other than once you start riding alone, you won’t get it. My role here is to prepare you for your solo career, not hold your hand until you get there.”

“I understand, sir. Thank you for answering my questions,” you reply as you open the door.

Tim’s hand finds your upper back as he leads you to his favorite of the food trucks, a light touch that disappears nearly as quickly as it happened. You thank him quietly for the suggestion before sitting with your fellow rookies.

“Hi, Tim,” Angela says.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, his annoyance breaking through his growing fondness for you.

“Just came to get some food. Your boot seems to be in a good mood.”

“Strange, I thought Tim’s thing was ‘break their spirits in the first hour,’” Nyla adds as she joins Angela.

“You two not have work to do or something?” Tim inquires.

“Something like that. How’s she doing?” Angela tips her chin toward you as she asks.

“She’s got good instincts, knows protocols.”

“But?”

Tim shrugs, turning away before Angela can dig deeper.

“I give it a week,” Nyla announces.

“Before what?”

“He can’t take it anymore.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Domestic disturbance in your area,” dispatch alerts.

Tim grabs the radio, accepting the call as he hits the sirens and turns into a residential area. You chew the inside of your bottom lip; domestic calls are your least favorite, especially when kids are involved. Unwilling to show discomfort, you put on your best brave cop face and follow Tim to the door.

A young girl with a bloody nose and teary eyes opens it, and you glance at Tim before kneeling and asking her to come outside. She listens without question, her lower lip wobbling as you smile.

“He’s hurting my mom,” she whimpers.

Tim nods at you before tilting his head toward the shop. You direct the girl to stand at the edge of the porch and wait for you as you follow Tim inside.

“LAPD, put your hands up!” Tim yells as he steps into a bedroom.

Your eyes widen when you see the large man towering over the girl’s mother. He smiles as he reaches for something.

“Don’t move unless you want to give me a reason,” Tim says lowly. “Step away.”

The man looks toward the nightstand before taking a deep breath and giving up. 

“I got it,” Tim tells you before radioing a code 4.

You wait until Tim has the handcuffs secured to walk outside. The girl runs into your arms, and you pop the shop's trunk, setting her down as you retrieve a small first aid kit. She lets you clean her bloody nose, gripping your wrist when it stings.

“Where’s my mom?” she asks.

“She’s talking to my partner right now, she’ll be out in a few minutes,” you explain.

“Is he nice?”

“The nicest,” you answer.

“Mom!” she yells, letting you set her on the ground before she runs to her mom’s side.

“Get in the shop,” Tim commands as he walks past, his hand brushing your arm as he closes the trunk.

You obey, climbing into the passenger seat and waiting as he talks to the EMTs. When he joins you, he drives to a quiet, empty street before switching off his body cam and gesturing for you to do the same.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice softer than you’ve heard.

“Yes, sir.”

“Don’t say what I want to hear. Domestic calls are tough but that wasn’t your first one, was it?”

You shake your head, looking out the windshield instead of at Tim.

“We all have reasons for becoming a cop, and some calls are harder than others. As long as your past doesn’t get in the way and put you in danger, it’s okay to be human,” he continues. “TOs are notoriously hard on you, but we’re also here for you.”

“Thank you,” you whisper.

Tim shrugs, one corner of his lips upturned. “No more sappy stuff, we have work to do.”

“Oh, if you think that was sappy, I’ve got a lot to show you before I graduate to short sleeves.”

The comment catches Tim off guard and makes him feel something he didn’t expect.

✯✯✯✯✯

By the end of the first week, you feel like you know Tim well. His hand spread across your back or shoulder when you’re in front of him, his little reminders that you’re not alone, that you can show emotion when the time allows, and every other little thing he does makes you wonder why there are so many horror stories around his teaching style.

Likewise, Tim thinks he has you down. You ask him questions, ask for his opinions, listen and apply what he says, and send him small smiles when he compliments your work.

But, it only takes a shift to realize that people are multi-faceted, and cops and rookies are no different.

“Good morning,” you greet, passing Tim a small box.

“What is this? A bribe?” he asks.

You smile as you reply, “Nope. Just something I found, and I thought you’d like.”

Tim opens the box, his eyes widening at the 2000 Super Bowl tickets, the Rams’ first win. “I can’t accept these.”

“They were under a bookshelf in my apartment, it’s not like I spent a million dollars on them, Officer Bradford.”

Tucking them into his pocket, Tim opens your door. “Thank you.”

You smile, and Tim thinks your joy is the better gift.

✯✯✯✯✯

During your first call of that day, you show Tim that you don’t just value his opinions.

“Shots fired!” you radio as you duck behind the car.

“Are you hit?” Tim asks.

Shaking your head, you move closer, trusting him to direct you and keep you safe. The men in the house you were called to have automatic weapons, and though you’re a good shot, you’re not a match for their guns alone.

“Backup is on the way, but I need you to do something for me. You trust me?” Tim adds.

“I do.”

“Reach around the back and open the trunk; just far enough to reach the latch. I’ll cover you.”

He stands above you, firing into the shattered window of the house as you slip your arm and back around the end of the shop and open the trunk.

“Good, perfect,” Tim praises as he ducks beside you. His knuckles graze yours as he leans past you. “Can you reach the shotguns?”

Glancing in the window above you, you locate them quickly. “I can.”

“Do it. I got you.”

Once the shotguns are in your hands, you pass one to Tim as you ready your own. Timing your shots, you take out two shooters just as your backup arrives.

“You’re bleeding,” Tim says, his adrenaline dropping as a tactical team takes over.

You look at your arm, just noticing your ripped sleeve and bloody skin. Tim lays his hands on your arm as he turns it toward him.

“I think it was just glass from the windshield,” you say quietly, pointing to the car behind you, riddled with bullet holes and broken glass.

“Either way, we need to get it checked out.”

“Officer Bradford?” you interject. “Thank you. For making sure I trust you.”

“Thanks for trusting me,” he mutters, so soft you can barely hear it.

He taps the Super Bowl tickets in his pocket as he rises to get a paramedic to check on you, and you smile, wondering how bad it would be if you fell in love with your TO.

✯✯✯✯✯

“You’re quieter than usual,” Tim points out. “I need to know that whatever is bothering you won’t impair your ability to work with me.”

“It won’t,” you promise. “Sorry.”

Tim considers pressing, but he trusts you. “I’m here. If you decide you want to talk about it.”

He exits the shop and opens your door before you can reach for the handle.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Did you see that?” Nyla gushes, elbowing Angela.

“Ow. See what?”

Nyla points to Tim, closing your door and laying a hand on your shoulder as he ducks his head to talk to you.

“That’s not a reprimand,” Angela deduces.

When you smile, a tiny upturning of your lips, Nyla laughs.

“Oh, that boy… The door, the touches, listening to her? He’s gone.”

“Not just him,” Angela adds. “She asks him questions, smiles at him, trusts him more than anyone… and the Super Bowl tickets? They’re adorable.”

“Should we do something?”

“Not yet. I think they’re close to realizing.”

✯✯✯✯✯

After your longest, and worst, day yet, you find yourself in a hospital waiting room beside Tim. He hasn't said anything since a speeding driver ran into your side of the shop, though you've apologized countless times (even though there's nothing you could have done).

Tim’s jaw is clenched so tight you’re worried it will snap. You’re sitting close to him, a bandage around your wrist and an ice pack pressed to your cheek.

“Sorry,” you whisper.

“Stop- stop apologizing, it’s not your fault,” Tim sighs.

His arm is on the armrest between you, and you move your hand toward his. When he doesn’t back away, you turn your arm to allow your knuckles to brush against his.

“It’s not your fault,” you tell him kindly. “He ran a red light.”

“And you could’ve been killed,” Tim replies, standing abruptly and walking away.

You slump in your seat, dejected and curious about what you could say to make him stop blaming himself for someone running into you.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Tim and his rookie sitting in a tree,” Nyla sings under her breath.

“I don’t have time for this right now,” Tim replies.

“Right, because you’re too busy being mad that she got hurt. Cops get hurt Tim,” Angela reminds him.

“Not with me,” he begins, pausing to take a deep breath. “Despite what you think, I’m upset that she got hurt, not because I’m in love with her.”

“Whatever you got to hear, buddy,” Nyla replies. “But tell me this. If it was Nolan when he was a boot, would you have felt this bad? Even if I believed you didn’t have feelings for her, which I don’t, you’re different with her and you know it.”

Tim sighs, looking out the door at you. He knows it’s true; despite his constant denial, he does treat you differently because you are different, and you’re like a magnet, incapable of being ignored or forgotten. Finally confessing it to himself, Tim knows that his feelings for you will get one or both of you in trouble unless something changes.

✯✯✯✯✯

“It is time for The Switch,” Wade says as he walks into the bullpen. “The day you ride with a new TO.”

You glance at Tim, who gives you an encouraging nod. He tells you that you’re a great rookie, but he also tells you that you’re pretty sometimes, which doesn’t seem pertinent (or always true, in your eyes). Wade says your name, and you look up.

“You’re with Nolan,” he tells you.

Smiling at Nolan, you cross your fingers under the desk that it’s a good day. 

“Henderson,” you call as he stands up, “what’s Nolan like?”

“He’s great. Really understanding and knowledgeable. A little talkative, but fairly easy going. Just stick to protocol and listen to his directions; you’ll be fine.”

“What about Bradford?” Vincent asks you. “Everyone says he’s the toughest. Anything I should be aware of?”

“I don’t think so. He’s quiet sometimes, but he’s great.”

You collect your war bag with the expectation of a good day. You will miss Tim, but learning how another TO teaches and his views can be invaluable. As you slide into the driver’s seat beside Nolan, you realize something: you like Tim as more than your TO. He means more to you than just being your teacher, your mentor, and a trustworthy officer. The thought hits you so suddenly you're not sure where it came from.

With each passing moment, you find yourself remembering something Tim said or wanting to tell him something, but he isn’t there. Nolan is kind and laughs at your muttered comments, but it is nothing like riding with Tim. As you think about all the little things Tim does, everything begins to make sense.

Someone yells your name when you step out of the shop to get lunch. Turning, you’re surprised to see Vincent storming up to you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demands.

“Tell you what?”

“That Bradford has ‘Tim Tests’ and nothing pleases him!”

You glance over his shoulder, finding Tim and Nolan talking. Tim glances over at you, and the tension in his shoulders seems to ease until Nolan says something else.

“His Tim Tests aren’t that bad; he’s just teaching you awareness and safety.”

“He wants to end my career,” Vincent exclaims before muttering something about you not understanding as he walks away.

✯✯✯✯✯

“How’s Vincent doing?” Nolan asks.

“That kid has no situational awareness,” Tim answers. “I stopped at a street sign, and he couldn’t figure out where we were.”

“He’s probably scared of you,” Nyla interjects. “And, no, Bradford, I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

“My rookie can tell me where I am, no matter what,” Tim adds.

“Your rookie is very good, I’ll give you that,” Nolan replies. “But Vincent has potential. Besides, your boot has people problems.”

Tim glances over at you, locking eyes with you while Vincent talks to you dramatically.

“So do I, but I’m still a good cop.”

Nyla watches as both you and Tim sigh before abandoning the conversations you’re in. She shakes her head, calculating her winnings if the betting pool goes her way.

✯✯✯✯✯

Walking out of the locker room at the end of the day, you’re surprised to be called into Sergeant Grey’s office. You sit across from him, fiddling with the hem of your shirt to spend your nervous energy.

“You are being assigned to a new TO. Officer Bradford has decided to hand you off to someone better equipped to teach you,” Grey informs. “But you’re not in trouble.”

You still your hands in your lap. “Okay. Effective when?”

“Monday morning. So, rest up.”

As you stand, Grey says your name, smiling as he repeats, “You’re not in trouble. This was Bradford’s decision, nothing to do with you. Well, nothing to do with you as a rookie.”

You purse your lips at his phrasing, and he chuckles before sending you out. Walking through the parking lot, you see Tim’s truck is still there and decide to ask him what happened. Standing by the tailgate, you chew your bottom lip as you wait, nervous that you did something, though Wade assured you differently.

Tim walks up unnoticed, saying your name to get your attention.

“What did I do wrong?” you ask, jumping straight to your questions. “I can fix it; there has to be a way to fix it.”

“You didn’t do anything,” Tim promises. “I just can’t be your TO anymore.”

“Why not?”

Tim shifts his backpack on his shoulder. “It’s not appropriate.”

Your heart drops. Tim knows you have feelings for him, and it makes him uncomfortable; that’s the only explanation. Nodding slowly, you accept your fate.

“And I can’t do this,” Tim adds.

His hands slide onto your jaw, his palms against your cheeks as his fingers settle behind your ears, pulling you into a quick kiss. You only begin to respond when he pulls back.

“You’re the best boot I’ve ever had,” he whispers, brushing his thumbs over the apples of your cheeks.

“I’m not your boot anymore,” you remind him.

“That’s your fault. Those little gifts, and soft smiles, and how well you listen… You make it impossible not to fall for you.”

You laugh, leaning against his hands as you reply, “You do too. How do you think I felt when you called me pretty or touched my back? Then you kept comforting me and inviting me to talk. It was too easy.”

“Go to dinner with me?” he asks.

You nod, smiling against his hands before he moves to touch your back again, opening the passenger door as he helps you in. Tim slips his hand into yours, kissing your knuckles as he keeps you close.

✯✯✯✯✯

When the rest of the rookies leave the station, noticing that your car is still there, they ask each other if anyone has seen you.

“Bradford’s truck is gone,” Nyla notices as she walks out.

“Looks like we won,” Angela cheers.

“Where’s Bradford?” Vincent asks.

“On a date,” Nyla answers. “With his former boot.”

The rookies’ jaws drop, wondering how you managed to pull Mid-Wilshire’s resident grump.

“Don’t expect the same to happen to you,” Angela says as she passes the rookies. “We all worked for this one.”

[bunniekittiee]

Hi, can i get a domestic bihan x pregnant!reader where she gets restless at night from pregnancy craving? Thank you

Bi-Han x Pregnant Reader

Tossing and turning, kicking the silk sheets off, trying to count sheep, everything she did had not eased her body. A certain craving that could only be satisfied if Bi-Han made it, but the Grandmaster was sound asleep next to her. She felt guilty. He was tired often, and he needed his rest. She didn’t want to wake him up because of her cravings, but they were horrible. Her stomach growled as she gently laid her hand on her bump.

“You are just keeping me up.” She grumbled quietly. She tried to ignore her hunger pains once more, but her stomach only increasingly got louder. And the cravings intensified.

“My firefly,” Bi-Han rasped as he sleepily raised his head. “Are you okay?” His eyes were clouded with tiredness, but he was alert. “You are moving around a lot. Is it the baby?”

“It’s stupid, go back to sleep Bi-Han.” She replied with a little attitude. She didn’t mean to be snappy with him, she was just having horrible cravings that needed to be satisfied at four in the morning.

Bi-Han sat up and moved in front of her, kissing her bump gently as he held her hand. “Tell me what’s on your mind. I can help you.” His eyes were full of love and patience. It warmed her heart.

She sighed. “I have really bad cravings. I haven’t been able to sleep at all because of them.”

He frowned. “Why did you not tell me sooner, my love? It is not good for you to be up all night like this.”

Emotions high, she felt her eyes water with tears and Bi-Han squeezed her hand. “Do not cry, I am not upset. I only wish you would have told me sooner, that is all.” He kissed her forehead. “What is it that you’re craving?”

She mumbled.

“Repeat that again please.”

“Sweet and sour pork with chow mein and fried rice.”

A chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Someone is very hungry I see. Let me go and awaken Kuai Liang and Tomas. They can help me.”

“No, please don’t wake them up for this.” She felt more guilty if he woke them up.

“They would be more than willing to help. They think of you as a sister. Besides, Kuai Liang makes better chow mein than I do.” Bi-Han said as he began to get out of bed.

“You had the courage to admit that?” She asked with a small giggle.

He shot her a look. “Kuai Liang isn’t better than me at much, only at making chow mein. Now you rest, I will begin to cook soon.”

She wanted to follow Bi-Han to the kitchen, but she knew he would only scold her and send her off to bed. He was very protective over her, much more so since she had gotten pregnant with their child. He wanted her to rest and relax as much as possible. Carrying a child was not the easiest thing in the world, and Bi-Han understood that.

The palace was quiet and her curiosity began to wander. She wanted to watch the brothers cook, and her mouth began to water at the thought of her cravings. “Let’s hope your father doesn’t send us back to bed.” She chuckled to herself and her baby as she got up from bed, gently rubbing her bump as she shuffled to the kitchen.

Kuai Liang and Tomas were helping Bi-Han around in the kitchen, walking about and crossing paths with each other to cook a meal this early in the morning. Although it would have been easier to have a servant cook it, nothing tastes close to their cooking. Kuai Liang was very skillful at it.

Bi-Han heard the padding of her feet, his eyebrows furrowed in worry. “You need to be resting, not standing about. Go back to the room.” He started to walk towards her but she stood away.

“I wanted to watch you all cook.” She said softly as Kuai Liang and Tomas smiled at her. They were happy to see Bi-Han settling down, and now he had a child on the way. It was a sweet love story.

Bi-Han sighed. “Okay, just sit down and watch us. Please don’t try to help, we are more than enough.” He returned to chopping up vegetables while Kuai Liang began to fire up the wok. Tomas was rolling out the noodles as quick as possible. They worked fast yet diligently in the early hours of the morning to feed her the cravings that had kept her up all hours of the night.

Just as they were skilled warriors, they were just as skilled at cooking. It was graceful the way they moved around and completed their tasks. They were like figure skaters gliding across ice as they maneuvered around each other. Bi-Han would glance up every once in a while to make sure his wife was okay. Every time he looked, she was in this dreamy state that only made him want to complete the meal quicker. He was a little upset that she waited so long in feeding her cravings. He always told her to tell him what she needed. Bi-Han was ready to do absolutely anything for her and their child.

“You poor thing,” Tomas told her. “You stayed up all night because of your cravings?”

She nodded. “Yes, I did. The baby was really bothersome.” She gently laid a hand on her bump. “Hopefully this will calm them down.”

Kuai Liang chuckled. “They are quite the warrior for pestering you so much. It goes to show that they will be very strong.”

“Well, they are Bi-Han’s child.” She giggled.

The Grandmaster only huffed while his brothers laughed quietly. It was quiet once more, the only sounds being the sizzling of the wok and Tomas continuing his task of rolling noodles. They all looked tired yet they were focused on their individual tasks.

Eventually, the food was nearing its completion. The smells made her stomach growl louder which made Bi-Han smile for a second. She was a little embarrassed, but she flashed a nervous smile at Bi-Han. He couldn’t help but look at his wife. His beautiful wife who was carrying his child. Their child. Although he was a little apprehensive, he knew he could adjust to fatherhood and be a good dad. Better than his own father, that was for sure.

Kuai Liang plated the food after he knew it was completely done, filling up her plate full so she could enjoy as much as she wanted to. “Breakfast, or rather, late night snack is served.” He joked as he set the plate down in front of her. Her mouth watered. It looked so good.

“Thank you so much. You all should have some too. I can’t eat all of it.” She felt bad if they did not eat either.

The brothers exchanged small glances and decided to eat small plates. Why not? It wouldn’t hurt to enjoy the meal with each other. They sat in a comfortable silence as they ate quietly. The tummy grumbles soon began to go away as she stuffed herself. Bi-Han watched her carefully to make sure she didn’t choke. He was always paranoid that she would hurt herself, he could not help it.

Once their ��breakfast’ was finished, Bi-Han shooed her off to bed while he and his brothers cleaned up. She felt her sleepiness creep up on her as she laid down, her belly full and the baby at rest once more in her tummy. Closing her eyes, she finally entered her dream state that she had been longing for.

Bi-Han entered their room to get ready for his day and his eyes laid upon her sleeping form. He kissed her forehead softly, watching her sleep so peacefully. He would do this a thousand times over if it meant that could be at peace within her body.

[anemoelliacia]

the five times neuvillette knew he loved you

warnings: minor 4.2 spoilers, female reader, major fluff minus a sad neuvi who needs comforting in one part

▶ i recommend listening to the song till forever falls apart by ashe and finneas while reading this chapter <3

The first instance was when he saw you making a routine out of regularly interacting amongst the Melusine with nothing but care, practically treating them like your own children. The Melusine are virtually your favorite people in Fontaine, besides him of course. You’re always sure to greet them, never messing up their pronouns, and giving them presents on their birthdays. It is also a common occurrence for you to give them handmade lunches. The first time Neuvillette saw you in the Palais Mermonia, giving Sedene a handmade lunch his heart swelled with affection for you, the sweetest person he has ever had the privilege of meeting. He watched you in admiration, speculating that this feeling in his chest must be love developing for you. 

Secondly, is how you taste water with him despite how silly everyone thinks it is. You never fail to cooperate with tasting different waters, assuring him that you can in fact taste the difference, even going so far as to pick a favorite to make him happy by participating in his hobby. You even created a hierarchy ranking system just to rank which waters you like, and which you don’t. Neuvillette loves when you engage in the hobby of water tasting with him, and he thinks he’d wouldn’t rather share this with anyone else but you, because no one else is more worthy of drinking the more expensive speciality bottled waters he has. He thinks, “Maybe I love her and that is why I wish so much to share my hobby with her?”

Thirdly, was the first time you bid him goodbye when he left for work in the morning. He had spent the night at your house for the first time as well, and waking up to you the next morning was almost the sweetest part of everything that happened. You practically begged him to stay for the day, to blow off work- even though you know he really can’t. He could not help but giggle over how clingy you are in the morning, after you’ve just woken up. This already had warm feelings stirring within him, but then… when he was about to head for the door, that is what had his heart wanting to burst out of his chest. You stopped him before he walked out, kissing him on the cheek and fixing his crooked collar. The moment was so sweet and domestic. He felt heat rising on his cheeks as you walked him out the door telling him that you’d bring him lunch later. As he walked the rest of the way to the Palais Mermonia, his thoughts were only filled with you, replaying that moment in his head and thinking, “is this what love truly feels like?”

Fourthly, was when Charlotte asked him about you during an interview. Charlotte finally got that interview she wanted with Neuvillette, and she just had to get the hottest scoop on him. She asked him many work related related questions, but she couldn't not ask him about you after she saw the two of you together- she needs a good story! She asked him, “So, Monsieur Neuvillette, I saw you at the cafe with a woman a few days ago, care to tell me who that was?” and Neuvillette’s face immediately lights up at the mention of you, he goes, “oh, that is my beloved…” He practically goes on a rant saying sweet things about you, but he catches what he is doing and cuts himself off with a clearing of his throat as his face starts to go pink. Charlotte is standing there smiling at him widely and she says to him, “You sure seem to like her a lot don’t you?” Neuvillette does not hesitate to answer, “yes, I think it is safe to say I like her a lot, perhaps I am even growing to love her…” knowing it will be the top story in the Steambird newspaper within a few days that Fontaine’s one and only chief justice has found a lover. 

The fifth and final instance was the first time you comforted him after a hard trial. Since the Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale is no longer working due to recent events, he has taken charge of deciding people's verdicts on his own. Which, as you can imagine, is a draining task- especially when a criminal’s charges are of a sensitive matter. One day, after a particularly hard case, that hurt him to have to sentence the person as guilty… all he wanted was to be in your company. He showed up at your doorstep in the pouring rain, his clothes soaked completely through. Of course, you immediately rushed him inside and gave him a change of clothing. While he was changing, you threw a pot of tea on the stove for him- and he couldn’t be more thankful for you. He quietly drank his tea in your company to warm up after being chilled to the bone from rain soaked clothing, and you stayed with him not forcing him to talk about what was wrong until he was ready. When he was ready to talk, he tugged you along to your bed to cuddle with you. For once, you held him as he spilled his hardships from the day, the rain outside never letting up; however, he quickly settled into the comfort you gave him, growing to feel at ease- and that is when he knew. He loves you, with every fiber of his being. So, he finally says, “I love you with all my heart.” and all you can do is reply that you feel the same, holding him tighter.

▶ if you liked this, then check out the other parts linked in my masterlist :) every genshin man i write for is getting their own part.

[tipsyleaf]

Imagine pregnancy cares with Leon…🥹🥹

You’re hungry? He’s running to the store at 3:00 AM to make you some spicy noodles with a side of pickles. Your feet are swollen? Put your legs up on his lap and let him massage those feet! The baby won’t stop kicking your ribs? Well they’ll get a stern talking to! >:(

I feel like Leon would definitely not let you do one single thing around this house, hell, you couldn’t even get up to grab a glass of water anymore. He’d carry you around the house like a little princess, setting you down in bed and tucking you in, kissing you goodnight like you were a little kid. Talking to your belly in the middle of the night, telling it random and silly stories, acting like your baby knew what the hell he was talking about.

Don’t even get me started on your bump, he’d looooovvvveeeee that big ol’ belly of yours. When you wore those pretty flowy sundresses because you refused to wear pants during the last month or so of your pregnancy, how those dresses would show your bump (and your melons, wink wink👀) off were definitely the best parts. You were the prettiest thing in the world to him, even more now that you were carrying his child.

If only I could give him that cute domestic life he deserves…

- Anon! 🎀

Oh my God, I love domestic Leon so much... He deserves that typical white picket fence life.

So there's conflicting resources online so I'm just gonna make an assumption here. July-December is when most babies are born. So far the same of a time line we'll say you're due in September.

So it's like the dead ass middle of July. Hot as balls and it's 3am. You want spicy noodles and pickles. (You're usually craving) But when you go to the kitchen they're both gone. You just grab an otter pop from the freezer, and head back to bed. The bed dips under your weight as you sit, adjusting your pillows before you lay back. The window AC is at that perfect angle where it's hitting you enough to make you chilly as you curl up with your snack and blanket.

Leon rolls over in his sleep, putting his arm around you and pulls himself closer to you with a groan. Lifting his head without opening his eyes, you know what he wants. Leaning down you give him a kiss. He sinks back into his pillow, tongue jutting out to wet his lips.

"Why... Do I taste cherry?" He opens his eyes, looking up to see you already drinking the juice from the clear package.

"No noodles? No pickles?" He questions, turning on his back as he takes in a sharp yawn. Rubbing away the sleepy gunk from his eyes.

"We're out." He turns his head, watching you look at the empty wrapper in disappointment. He sits up without a second thought, still groggy as he grabs his wallet off the nightstand giving you another kiss before he stands up. Slinking out the door in his pajamas.

30 minutes he comes back with fresh made spicy beef noodles from your favorite late night Korean dinner and a jar of pickles the size of a baby. An you bet you scarf those things down while he watches you like your his whole world. This goofy smile on his face while you slurp up glass noodles and glance at him.

"Wuh?" You say through chews. He chuckles, shaking his head.

"Nothing babe, just eat your noodles." He moves in getting comfortable. Rubbing your lower back and belly at the same time while talking to the baby until he eventually falls back asleep with his head on your thigh.

SUN DRESSES WITH A BABY BUMP WOULD MAKE THIS MAN GO FERAL! There's this thing about pregnant women that men find attractive because their instinct is to detect fertility and protect. Which is insane as is...

But when it's your own partner? Oh boy.

He thought you were beautiful in sundresses before but now it's just heightened!

It's getting harder to bend and pull things up with an entire human being inside of you so you resort to the old reliable method. Dresses. Everyday.

You wobble out of the bedroom with your flip flops. Dropping them on the floor you slide them on. Ready for a day at the beach together before the baby comes. The dress is a shade of blue, slightly low cut but really showing off the girls with how much you've blown up during pregnancy.

Leon's outside fighting with the chairs trying to get them in the back of the car and fit the cooler at the same time. Already breaking a sweat and they haven't even left the driveway yet. You walk out, watching him fight for his life against these chairs and finally he gets the trunk to shut and he sees you. The first thought that crosses his mind was:

oh shit... She looks that good? Do we have to leave the house?

Followed by: That's mine, she's mine. Carrying my baby inside her... And looks that sexy doing it. Maybe we should have another kid right away after the first one...

His brains going in overdrive before you tell him you're getting in the car. He quickly comes around, helping you buckle yourself in and shuts your door for you.

The entire day it's hard for him to not be constantly touching you. He usually just guides you by a hand on your back but he's got you pulled close, a hand on your thigh, giving you kisses more frequently. Even going for an ass grab or two without caring if anyone is looking.

And you bet your ass the second you two get home you're getting a shower together. Just to make sure you get all the sand off of course (👀)

[ahgasegotarmy116]

He Doesn't Deserve You | A Jeon Jungkook Series | Chapter Seven

Summary: Taehyung catches you coming home late and makes you regret it Pairing: f!reader x Jungkook Word Count: 5.3K~ (kinda got carried away with this one lmao) Warnings: Smuuuuutttt, Domestic abuse (physical and mental), explicit language and yändere behaviors a/n: Sorry it's taken me a while to come back around to this story but I hope you guys like it 🥰 Start from the beginning

After watching as Jungkook rounds the corner and out of sight I turn around and unlock the door, noticing that only the bottom lock is locked. 'That's strange, I could've sworn I locked both of them' I think to myself but don't let my thoughts wander farther than that before walking in. 

Taking off my boots and starting to strip out of my clothes just as quickly as I did the last time I went out I'm met with one of our table lamps turning on in the living room making me freeze in place. 

"Have a nice night?" I hear Taehyung say, totally void of emotion, knowing full well there's anger hidden just behind it. "Tae I can explain" I start off, walking towards where he's sitting on the armchair that faces the door but I stop in my tracks when he stands up and slowly walk towards me. 

"You can explain? What is there to explain y/n? Did you do something that needs explaining?" he continues to ask, deepening his voice as I slowly retreat, trying to maintain some distance between us. "No, I didn't do anything wrong" I say, standing my ground and knowing that it's the truth. 

"Is that so? Then why was it that I heard not only your voice but a man's voice as well right outside our door y/n? Care to explain that?" he asks, continuing to stalk towards me and in my need to escape I stupidly bump into a wall behind me leaving him a chance to lunge at me and trap me against it. 

"He's a friend" I breath out, my voice getting smaller and smaller, dissociating and pulling my consciousness out of the situation, only being able to watch from above. "A friend? Huh, didn't remember you having any friends. Where, pray tell, did you meet this friend? Or better yet, where were you tonight?" he ask, getting up in my face and taking a deep breath. 

"You smell sweet, seems like you might've been drinking tonight huh? Is that what you did? Met a man at a bar behind my back? Then you have the audacity to tell me you did nothing wrong!" he says, raising his voice as he continues to stare me down. 

"We didn't do anything. We just had a few drinks and he walked me home, that's it" I explain, giving him the facts and the facts alone because that's exactly what happened. He pushes off the wall and walks away from me, letting out a sigh with curses attached to it, trying but failing to calm his temper. 

“Are you cheating on me?" he asks and my jaw drops. "No! You do not get to play the victim card with me like I'm the one that did something wrong! This has nothing to do with you" which in reality it doesn't. My intention was to talk about what happened this morning but I decided to focus on Jungkook instead. 

I'm not lying and I'm not the one who's in the wrong here. I have to keep reminding myself of these things because otherwise if I start blaming myself again then he wins. 

"This has everything to do with me! I am your husband and last time I checked my wife isn't supposed to be going out for drinks by herself and picking up men to bring them home!" he yells, his anger building by the second but I'm not backing down this time. 

"I did not pick him up or bring him home. He was a friend that was walking me home so I wouldn't have to pay for a cab or walk in the dark on my own. I didn't cheat on you and you know that" I say, continuing to defend myself and Jungkook. 

"Well you might as well have" he mumbles while running his fingers through his hair. 

"I can't say the same for you" I say without a second thought but throw my hand over my mouth, knowing that I've made a terrible mistake. "Excuse me?" he growls out, rearing his head toward me, his eyes narrowed and waiting for my response, seconds away from losing control... 

But I press on anyway.

"You heard me! You had the audacity to not bother coming home last night and then when you show up bright and early this morning you didn't even give me any sort of pitiful excuse as to why. Then when you get a call from your mistress, the one you probably just left, you let her not only interrupt what we were doing but you also left and ran back to her right away" I say, raising my voice and holding my chin high, summoning all the confidence and strength I'll need to deal with this conversation. 

"My mistress huh?" he chuckles dryly, shaking his head and stalking towards me before grabbing me by the throat and pulling me towards him before slamming me up against the wall, squeezing so hard that he cuts off my cries of pain.

"What makes you think you can talk to me like that huh? What makes you think that you can disrespect me in my own house? You dare accusing me of stepping out on you when you were just with a man tonight. From the looks of your hair and makeup alone I know you're lying" he says squeezing harder for a second before letting loose just enough for me to choke out a response. "I'm not lyin-" 

"Don't you fucking dare! I know he fucked you! Your messy sweaty hair and you smeared makeup is proof enough. Although looks like he didn't do a very good job of it since you still have some lipstick left huh?" he says through gritted teeth. 

I start to see black dots in my vision and just as I'm about to lose consciousness he lets go, letting me fall to my knees. 

I cough and wheeze, trying to flood some oxygen to my lungs while he cracks his neck, getting rid of some tension before saying another word. He glares down at me before crouching down and lifting my chin up, making eye contact while he smiles at me with a look that says he's gonna make sure I regret what I said to him. 

"You're gonna tell me exactly what he did to you" he starts and I shake my head but he cuts me off "No see, you will. You'll show me exactly what he did to you and I'm going to show you that I'll do it better. Remind you who you belong to" he says, taking off his belt and I continue to shake my head, letting my tears start to fall, silently begging for him to stop. 

"You think tears are gonna work on me? Don't you realize that that's exactly why I stay with you? Seeing you cry and beg for mercy even though you body is screaming for more. Watching the tears stream down your face while your makeup is fucked up beyond belief from it all. Fuck baby you're the reason I'm like this. You go around, purposefully getting in trouble and giving me a  reason to treat you like this" he says, caressing my face and giving me a disgusting grin while he watches my face as I fall apart. 

"I don't want this" I sob, begging for all of this to stop. "No see that's where you're wrong. You were so upset that we got interrupted that you went out and did something that you knew would make me want to hurt you because that's exactly what you wanted. You're a slut for pain and you love it when I do this to you" he says while grabbing onto my bicep and dragging me up by it, making me wince in pain. 

"Taehyung stop, please" I sob, "Taehyung stop" he mimics me in a high pitched voice, making fun of my cries for help. "All I hear when you say that is you begging me to go harder, you're begging me to uses you like the worthless whore you are" he says while dragging me into our bedroom all while I'm pulling and pushing and fighting my way out of his hold. Right before he throws me on the bed I'm able to break free and run into the bathroom, him chasing after me but right at the last second I'm able to close and lock it behind me. 

I take shallow breaths in and out, hyperventilating as he bangs on the door and screams for me to open in. I scream back and tell him to leave me alone but it only makes him furious. 

"I'll break this fucking door down you whiny bitch! Open up!" he yells as he throws his body up against the door, the wood slamming into the door frame and I pray to whatever higher power there is out there to send someone here to save me. 

As soon as I finish my prayer I feel my phone vibrate in my back pocket. Reaching for it I let out a sob when I realize it's Jungkook's email that he said he would send me and I click on the number right away, not bothering to read the message and hold my breath as I listen to it ring and ring and ring until I hear him pick up.

"Noo-" "Jungkook please, please come back please Taehyung's here and he-" I cut him off but before I'm able to get much more out Taehyung cuts me off as well with another one of his yells. "Who the fuck are you talking to in there? You better not be calling your little boyfriend you whor-" "Jungkook please" I whimper. 

"I'm already on my way I'll be there in 5 minutes, I just pulled out of The Blue Pearl and I'm at the light about to turn onto your street. Just stay on the phone with me okay? Do you have a spare key anywhere?" he asks, talking me through it all and assures me he'll be here soon. 

"It's under the mat" I let out, trying to keep my voice as low as I can so Taehyung doesn't know what's happening. "Okay where are you in the house?" he continues and I tell him exactly where I am and what's going on and he keeps me talking, making sure that Taehyung hasn't gotten a hold of me and that I'll be safe until he gets here. 

"Okay Noona I just pulled up, I'm parking my car, I'm running upstairs" he lists off  and while I hear the sounds that match his claims my breathing gets a little deeper with each word, calming me down and knowing that no matter what Jungkook will protect me with everything he's got. 

"I'm at the door and I'm grabbing the key, I'm turning the lock okay I'm inside" he says and hangs up the phone as soon as he starts walking down the hallway. 

"Who the fuck are you?" Taehyung yells out as soon as he notices Jungkook's form stalking towards him but the next thing I hear is the sound of Taehyung grunting in pain and feeling the thud of him hitting the floor. 

"What the fuck?" he yells out and at that sound I open the bathroom door. "Noona go back inside and lock the door" Jungkook says sternly, barely glancing at me as to keep his eyes on Taehyung to block any movement he might make to harm me.  "You know this guy?" Taehyung says, wiping the corner of his mouth and looking at the blood caused from his busted lip.

"I was the guy she went out with tonight" Jungkook say, throwing my friends argument right out the window. "Jungkook please" I say, my voice strained from the pressure Tae had put on my throat. "Noona go back inside and lock the door" he growls out again, balling up his fists and ready to throw another punch. 

"Maybe you should listen baby. Don't wanna watch while I beat up your little boyfriend here" Tae grits out and while Jungkook is still turned to face me he punches him straight in the jaw, leaving him stumbling back a few step but stays standing. "Jungkook!" I scream, rushing towards him to check on him but he ignores my efforts to do so and puts me behind his back to keep me out of reach.

"That's a bit cruel now isn't it? Worrying about him over your own husband? I guess you really are a slut" "You shut your mouth" Jungkook growls, squaring his shoulder and I can tell just from his back how he'd be willing to kill Taehyung if I asked him to. 

"Taehyung get out!" I say as loud as I can, the pain on my larynx worse than it's ever been before. If Jungkook hadn't gotten here I really think Taehyung would've gone too far this time.

"You heard her! Get the fuck out" Jungkook says getting ready to grab him but after Tae takes in Jungkook's figure he steps back and starts to leave on his own. "Fine, you can have her. She's worthless to me anyways" he says over his shoulder and I have to grab Jungkook by the arm to keep him from lunging at him again. 

"Jungkook please stop, just let him go" I say, holding on with all my might and at my voice he relaxes a bit but still keeping his guard up. "Keep your bitch on a leash y/n. We wouldn't want anyone to get hurt" is Tae's last sentiment and at that I let go of Jungkook, letting him do as he sees fit.

"What'd you fucking call me?" Jungkook asks, holding onto Taehyung's neck just like he had done to me and all Tae can do is claw at his hand and gasp for breath, letting out choked curses as he does. 

"Huh? Sorry? Didn't catch that" he says, squeezing even harder but I place my hand on his shoulder, bringing him back to reality again and at that he stares Taehyung down before letting go of his neck and shoving him out of the apartment. 

Before Tae is able to say another word Jungkook slams the door in his face locking it and putting on the chain lock in an effort to make sure he won't be able to get in too easily.

Jungkook leans his forehead against the door, hand rested against it in the form of a fist before he turns around and as soon as I try to say something he wraps his arms around my torso and holds me tight, wordlessly showing me that he's here and he will protect me from anything and everything if I let him. 

After a few minutes of standing like that I lean back and look at him, tracing my hand gently along the swollen area on his jaw. "I'm sorry" I choke back, letting the emotions of the moment hit me again. He brings his hand up just like I had, tracing it along my neck where the skin is red and showing signs of bruising that I'm sure will be there tomorrow. 

"Don't" he is all he says as he runs his thumb along my lips, the bottom one spilt in the corner from where I had bitten it nervously at some point. 

"But I-" "No, don't. I knew what I was signing up for when I came here" he says, tucking my hair behind my ear and wiping away the tears that have started to fall. "I would've done a lot more if you hadn't stopped me" he says, studying my features before he pull back and assesses my body 

"Did he touch you anywhere else? Are you in any pain?" he starts, pestering me with more and more questions before I can even answer one and all I can do in response is smile, watching as his eyes dart all over me. "Jungkook I'm fine" I say but he scrunches his brows and tongues his cheek. "You're obviously not fine now tell me what he did to you" he says sternly, not backing down from this. 

I take in a shaky breath before relaying everything that happened and he pulls me in for a hug once I've finished, making sure to be a lot more gentle this time but still, no less full of comfort and promises of protection. 

Now sitting on the couch together he keep a hold of one of my hands, playing with my fingers as we sit there, neither of us knowing what to say. I look up at him and notice that he's been staring at me, waiting for me to say or not say anything, just wanting to show me that he's here and is focused solely on me. 

"Thank you for coming" I mumble and he smiles, nodding his head while he rubs circles into my palm. "I wish I could've been here under different circumstances but thank you for calling me and letting me be there for you" he says and I nod my head as well, both of us going back to sitting in a comfortable silence for a while.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up" I say, taking note of his busted lip and the blood that had started to drip down his chin. "What? This? This is nothing" he smile, making light of the subject but I nevertheless lead him into the bathroom. 

I close the lid of the toilet before having him sit down, him obeying and letting me take care of him with little to no protest. "This might sting a little" I say before using some rubbing alcohol to clean up the surrounding area. He flinches and grabs my wrist in response, his eyes narrowed in pain from the sting. "I'm sorry" I apologize but he doesn't bother saying anything, his eyes now focused on my lips.

My eyes flitter down to his as well, feeling as though all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room and before I can stop myself I'm already leaning down and kissing him. 

The kiss is soft, chased and so full of longing from the both of us but I pull away, scared that I might've crossed a line that he might want to keep drawn until we figure things out. "I'm sorry I shouldn't have done that" I say but before I have the chance to open my eyes he's pulling me in by my hips and guiding me down to kiss him again, a hand on my jaw trying to keep me close. 

We kiss for what feels like only moments but when we pull away all we can manage to do is try to stop our racing hearts as we slow our panting breaths. 

"Are you going to leave him" he lets out before taking in another breath, the patterns slowly going back to normal.

"I- What?" I ask, caught off guard from the straightforward question and it takes my brain a second to catch up. "Are you going to leave him? Because if we do this I don't think I'll be able to go back to what we were before" he says, his thumb rubbing circles against my hip as he still has me pulled in close. 

I look down at him for a moment, studying his features and notice his parted lips, now swollen from my doing. His brows pinched in concentration and just bellow are his eyes, pleading for me to say something, full of those same galaxies that continue to pull me in. 

"I'll leave him" I let out in a hushed tone, words that I had only hoped I would say one day. His eyes trace all of my features making sure that I truly mean what I say and as soon as he's satisfied with my answer he stands up and picks me up by my hips and places me on the bathroom counter, our roles reversed with him now towering above me. 

"If you want me to stop then tell me to stop" he says and I blink up at him for a second before nodding my head in response. "Use your words Noona" he says, caressing my cheek and my jaw drops before regaining composure seconds later. 

"I'll tell you" I respond and at that he leans in and kisses me, pulling me closer to the edge of the counter and wedging his knee between my parted legs, letting me use him if I want to. I place my arm around his neck and place my other hand on his jaw, keeping him close and wordlessly asking him for more. 

When he pulls away a bit I chase his lips and scoot closer to the edge and let out a breathy moan, getting friction when I wasn't expecting it yet. "Use me to get yourself off Noona" Jungkook says against my lips, pleading for me to keep going but letting me take control. 

I do as he say and chase after his lips while I throw both arms around his neck to anchor myself as I rock my hips back and forth, moaning at the feeling of my clit rubbing up against his thigh, my thin leggings and his jeans the only barriers between us. 

I pull away to catch a breath but my hips never stop as he's now holding onto them and guiding me, keeping the pace just right. I let out breathy moans, not being able to hold back enough to hide what this is doing to me.

"You make such pretty noises for me. So responsive" he says, pulling me further up his thigh and making me gasp at the feeling before letting out an unrestrained moan. 

"There we go, let me hear you. Let me know how good I'm making you feel" he rasps out in a deep voice before pressing his lips against mine, swallowing those noises he just asked for. 

I swear I could cum from just listening to him. 

"Shit Jungkook" I curse, pulling back and gasping for breath, so close to release already. "Tell me what you need" he says, hands still dragging my hips at a steady pace. "Fuck touch me please" I whine out, the sensations on a whole other level when he's the one doing this to me. 

"I am touching you" he taunts, forcing me to tell him exactly what I want. "I need your fingers. Please fuck" I groan out, feeling as he drags me harder along his thigh. 

"Noona wants my fingers yeah? You want them down here?" he pauses his motions, tracing the wet stain on my legging and I moan out a 'yes' before he slips his hand under my waistband and gently draws a stripe up between my folds with his middle finger before just barely ghosting it against my clit. 

"Jungkook please" I beg, my hips chasing after his hand. "Patients Noona. I promise I'll make you feel good" he whispers in my ear before pulling his hand out of my pants and wrapping my legs around his waist and carrying me to the bed. 

"I wanna eat you out" he says after making both of us fall on the bed. "Is that okay?" he questions and I nod my head before saying 'yes'. He kisses me for a little bit again, making my brain get even foggier than before, giving me that same fluttering feeling he always gives me but this time lower and accompanied by a pulsing need for his touch. 

He notices how I start to squirm and takes mercy on me, chuckling dryly as he pulls away and sits back, looking at my leggings and then up at me and when I try to take them off on my own he pulls my hands away and kisses my palms instead. 

"No this is about you. Let me take care of you yeah?" he asks and I nod my head, trying to keep myself from moaning at his words, his fiery gaze locked on me before placing my hands on either side of me and getting up off the bed while slowly sliding down my pants. 

"No panties huh? No wonder I could feel how wet you were" he teases and I cover my face in embarrassment when I look down and see the wet stain I caused on his jeans. "Don't hide from me" he says while he comes down to hover over me and it makes me want to do so even more. 

"Come on pretty, let me see you" he rasps out and at that I take my hands off my face, him not having used any pet names with me before leaving me caught off guard. "There she is" he says with a crooked smile letting my jaw drop. He laughs and kisses my open mouth before trailing his lips down my neck, paying close attention to it, wanting to kiss away the pain. 

I hiss at the feeling of his middle finger drawing lazy patterns along my clit, caught off guard by the sudden touch. "You gonna let me take care of you?" he asks, his words dripping with promises of ecstasy and I only whimper in response, his finger now drawing circles around my entrance.

He watches my reactions as he dips his finger inside of me, feeling all my senses heightened from the sensation of being with someone other than my husband, someone who truly wants to take his time with me. 

"You're already acting like this and I've only added one finger. Let's see if what kind of beautiful noises you make when I add another huh?" he taunts, slowly dragging his finger out of me before adding another one. 

My hips buck up at the feeling, chasing his touch and he chuckles, enjoying the fact that my body is unashamed in showing my desire for him even if my mouth can't say it. "Just like that, ride my fingers Noona, use me" he says and I moan at his word, something primal stirring up in me at the sound of them. My hips buck up into his hand without remorse and gasp when he adds another one. 

He takes his hand away when he feels me tightening around his fingers and I groan at the loss of touch. "It's okay, I'm right here. I just want the first time you cum with me to be on my tongue" he says, leaning down to whisper it in my ear making me melt into the mattress, completely at his mercy. 

"Can you take this off for me?" he asks, playing with the hem of my shirt and I nod my head, sitting up and taking it off and as I go to take off my bra his eyes widen at the thin black lace wrapped perfectly around my breasts. "Keep it on" he husk out and I close my legs at the sound, needing some sort of friction but he pulls my legs apart thinking that I was trying to close myself off to him. 

"None of that" he says and takes time to really look at me, making eye contact before studying my features and taking in how fucked out I already look. "Lay down for me" he says, leaning in to kiss me and guiding me down on my back again. 

He takes his time kissing me, trailing his hands up and down my torso before replacing them with his lip, tongue and teeth, leaving no inch of skin untouched. "God you're beautiful" he says after taking time to worship my body, reminding me of how I'm meant to be loved. 

He pulls down on the lace covering my breast and latches his lips around my sensitive bud, hardening from the arousal coursing through my veins. He switches to the other one and gives it the same time and attention, his brows furrowed together in concentration, finding pleasure in this act as well.

"I can't get enough of you" he growls out, trailing his lips down my torso and kissing my waist, sucking marks into it as a reminder of what I let him do to me.

He looks up at me before focusing his gaze on my glistening folds and how I'm clenching around nothing, begging to be full. 

He leans in and licks a hard stripe from my entrance to my clit, sucking it in gently and moaning into me, making my hips buck into his face chasing more of that sensation. 

"Fuck you taste like candy" he moans, making out with my cunt, leaving me grasping onto his locks with one hand to keep him close and placing the other over my mouth to hold back the moans I'm bound to let out. 

"Take your hand off your mouth or I'll stop" he commands, looking up at me with a fiery gaze that tells me he'll make good on his words. 

I lower my hand slowly and keep my eyes on him and watch as he become hungrier at the sight of my flushed cheeks and rising and falling of my chest. "You're such a good listener" he grins and before I'm able to say something in response I'm cut off by the moan I let out when he dips his tongue inside me. Now alternating between kissing, sucking and fucking me with his tongue, moaning into me all along. 

I can tell I'll never be able to find anyone as skilled as he is with his fucking mouth. 

I'm seeing stars already from the build up alone and I buck my hips up into him, begging for more. He pulls back and looks up at me, his chin glistening with my arousal and his eyes full of hunger, begging me to give me everything I have to offer. 

"You gonna cum Pretty?" and at that I arch my back, moaning and feeling so close to cumming like I knew I would, his fucking mouth making me weak for him in more ways than one. He grabs my hips and presses them down into the mattress to keep me in place for him. "Stay nice and still for me yeah?" he says, coaching me through it and making me hang onto every word. 

"Good girl" he says, kissing the inside of my thigh before going back to eating me out, going even harder and faster than before if even possible, never letting up on giving me anything and everything I need and all I can do is let out a slur of unintelligible moan and whimpers, motivation for him to keep going. 

Before I'm able to get anything out he takes his mouth off of me only for a second, looking up and savoring my reactions before growling out "Cum" leaving me cumming on his tongue, just like he said he wanted me to.

He continues his ministrations, licking and kissing and sucking up everything I've given him, slowing his pace but keeping his mouth on me still, obsessed with the way I taste. 

I try to pull back and wiggle my way away from him but he pulls me back in my my hips keeping me in place. "Stop running" he growls out and when I whine in overstimulation he looks up at me with a devilish glint in his eyes, telling me he's no where near done with me.

"I know you can give me another one" he taunts, kissing and sucking marks on the inside of my thigh and my vision goes blurry with lust, desire flooding my senses all over again and I nod my head before laying it back down on the pillow, him pulling away only to grab another one. 

"Lift your hips for me love" he says while caressing the outside of my thigh and I do as he says and he places a pillow under them, angling me just how he wants me and giving him a better angle this time. 

Fuck I'm in trouble...     

prev / next Series Masterlist

Taglist: @jkslipppiercing @trina864 @kaitieskidmore97 @goddesofimortality @coolbluedude @00frenchfries00 @bangtans-momma @coralmusicblaze @pastelpinkjoon @joonwater @marvelbun @j3nni-rs @evidive @beomieboi @forevrglow @jesssssmaybankk @teugiie @chaconnelatte @whoa-jo @snehal @xumyboo @mindurbuzznezz @diorh0seokie

Join my Taglist!

Feel free to fill out the form or just comment on any of my fics to be added :)

[deakyjoe]

Somebody’s Watching Me Part 2

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader (she/her pronouns used, reader is implied British and given backstory)

Category: I still don’t know but it’s coming together

Summary: On a night out with your friends, you’re pleasantly surprised to run into your secret observer.

Warnings: flirting (Ghost and reader getting some action, they deserve it), mentions of war/death, talks of scars, alcohol consumption, Ghost being normal AND weird, the mask is off again, Ghost doing domestic things almost (socialisation in a pub), sexual references, family issues, reader’s friends are intense, British terminology/slang, swearing/cursing, dialogue heavy, minute Soap slander (I love him but couldn’t resist)

Word Count: 5.5k (longer than part 1)

A/N: After the love I got for part 1, I decided to continue so Simon is still my babygirl. Please remember that if Simon feels out of character, that’s the point of this story. It’s him when he’s not being Ghost but being forced to mix aspects of his life at home and his life at work - the work aspects being reader. Also he’s going out of his comfort zone to please the sergeant (you) because he likes you but just hasn’t really realised it yet. Not entirely sure I’m as pleased with this part as I was with the first but we’re posting anyway!

Part 1 available here.

Part 3 available here.

It took weeks before your friends finally managed to convince you to join them on a night out. You'd been putting it off for a number of reasons. One being that the thought of socialising in a crowded environment had you wanting to gouge your eyes out as you'd grown used to little to no company. Another being that you genuinely thought it'd be overwhelming and you might have a panic attack.

But after they'd assured you that they'd look after you and you could all leave if it got to be too much, you relented and organised a time and place with them. Just your local pub on a Wednesday night. You'd decided on a Wednesday as you hoped it wouldn't be too crowded and that your friends might need a pick-me-up in the middle of their work weeks. They agreed quickly with the idea.

And honestly it'd been nice for the most part. You'd arrived early, you swear active duty had made you so time efficient that you spent almost no time at all getting ready, and sat down at a table in the corner, out of sights of the most of the rest of the pub. The only thing in direct eye line was the bar itself which would come in handy when you needed to go up and order drinks.

Your friends all slowly arrived, none of them being too late, and gave you big greetings as they hadn't seen you in "forever" they claimed. You returned hugs and kisses and prepared yourself for a night of bombarding questions and retelling of war stories.

A couple of your girlfriends were bought drinks by guys at the bar and you watched on in amusement as they giggled about it together. They assured you that someone would probably buy you a drink if you asked but you waved them off saying you didn't care, which you didn't.

You listened intently as they all told you what was happening with their lives - work, significant others, kids, families, pets, parties, weddings, funerals, birthdays, anything and everything you could possibly imagine. A note of envy settled in your stomach at one point but it went away quickly when you told yourself you were being silly.

Telling them about your life was slightly more complicated. You had to skirt around some of the details of your job as it was classified and would probably horrify them if they knew what you truly did. You gushed about some of the amazing people you'd met and mentioned casually that you'd actually bumped into your lieutenant in the supermarket. They all absorbed it with wide eyes of wonder and amazement, each of them having at least one question to ask.

"So, wait, you can actually shoot a gun?"

"Does it bother you having to bunk with a bunch of blokes?"

“What’s said country like?”

"Are any of them fit?"

"Isn't it tiring?"

"How long until you go back?"

"Met anyone you fancy?"

"Hang on, you have to share a communal bathroom?"

Yes, it's alright, not really, they're okay, very, not sure, oh my god, yeah.

They never really seemed satisfied with your answers and always wanted you to elaborate. Which you did if possible.

Overall, it was nice. There was no sense of impending doom or a weird feeling in your stomach about the whole thing. You let your guard down just enough for once to attempt to have a good time. Which you did. You laughed, you chatted, you drank, it was good.

Until the bar tender came over with a drink that looked exactly like what you usually ordered.

And when he placed it in front of you, you wanted to throw up.

"Fella at the bar bought this for you."

This was it. The moment in the night that you looked forward to the least and the moment your friends had been encouraging the most. They insisted that you needed to "put yourself out there more" and “try to get laid at some point”. You were "too uptight" as they put it. Little did they know that you weren't really interested in a quick shag or even a relationship with anyone at the moment. And rejecting someone was always awful. Every time they asked why and having to explain that your job made romantic entanglements extremely hard made things awkward.

"Ooh, this is so exciting!" One of your friends squealed beside you, frantically searching the bar for the culprit. "Which one?"

“Blond one.”

Oh.

"Tall."

My.

"Scars on his face."

God.

Your eyes shot towards the bar and immediately landed on him. Of course he was already looking your way with his drink raised to you.

"Shit." You cursed, silently letting out a sigh of relief that it wasn't someone you'd have to reject but all the more anxious because it was him. A part of you was very excited to see him though.

"What is it? Do you know him?" Another friend asked you.

"He's my lieutenant. Fuck." You stood from your seat, grabbing the drink.

"The one from the shops?"

"Yeah. I'll be back in a minute, guys. I'm just gonna go say hi." You explained, slowly making your way towards Ghost.

"Take your time!"

You hadn't seen your lieutenant since he'd gone over to your place for tea. It was a weird experience. Weirder than the shops. You'd had a couple cups of tea each, shared his packet of chocolate digestive biscuits, which he'd kindly offered to you, chatted a little more and then he'd left. You didn't exchange phone numbers or even offer to see each other again. He didn't because he probably didn't want to and you didn't because you thought he probably wouldn't want to. So you'd gone your separate ways and that was that.

As you got closer to him, you wished you hadn't had so much to drink. You weren't drunk but you weren’t sober either. Kind of just bordering the edges between being buzzed and tipsy.

"Simon."

He turned so his body was facing yours, his large frame consumed the stool he was sitting on. Intimidating and alluring all at once. "Sergeant."

"You really should start calling me by my name." You sighed, stopping to stand in front of him.

"I like calling you sergeant."

"And I liked calling you lieutenant." You shot back, taking a sip of your drink despite your head screaming at you not to.

"Bet you like calling me Simon more."

Your eyes widened at his statement. He wasn't wrong but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that. "Thanks for the drink, by the way."

"It's no problem. Thought I owed you for the bourbon."

You hummed in agreement but said nothing.

"Friends of yours?" He nodded towards your table where all of them were watching the two of you interact intently.

"Uh, yeah. First night out since being home so..." You shrugged.

"Having fun?"

"I was." You regretted your words immediately, knowing that you’d been insensitive.

"Ruined it, did I?" He asked but it wasn't malicious.

"No. Just... unexpected."

He nodded. "So, which one's your boyfriend?"

You were surprised at the question. Last time he'd enquired about your personal life it hadn't gone so well.

"You live alone?"

"Yeah. Used to have a hamster but he died a few months back."

He blinked at you and said nothing so you rushed off to make tea, desperately trying to come up with a new topic to talk about when you got back to him.

"That's presumptuous of you, lieutenant."

"Just making conversation with you, sergeant." The return of dropping rank had you tingling inside. Might have just been the alcohol though.

You huffed. "None of them."

"Girlfriend then?"

You shook your head. "Nope."

"Sorry soul you're torturing with your affection couldn't make it then? What a shame." His eyes narrowed, you presumed he was joking.

"I'll ignore that insult. I'm single." Setting your drink on the surface of the bar, you leant your hip against the side but not before taking a step closer to him.

"Lucky for the world then that you're not burdening anyone with yourself."

"Jesus, Simon." You laughed out of shock, struck with his bluntness.

"Had to be said."

"Huh, you really are a charmer." You flashed him a glimpse of your teeth in a small smile, brows raising on the last word of your sentence.

"I try my best.” Pause. “Why are you single?"

"Because my affection is a burden apparently." Repeating his own words back to him seemed better than explaining your depressing void of no romance in your life because of your job. But maybe he’d understand.

"I'm serious."

"Why do you care?"

Simon didn’t strike you as the kind of person who gave a shit about the love lives of people he worked with. So why did he seem so interested in yours?

He didn't answer straight away and when he did, it seemed rehearsed. "You're my sergeant, part of my team. It's my role to care."

"To make sure I stay alive. Not to inquire about my love life." You were properly frowning at him now.

Ghost raised his hands in surrender. "Sorry I asked."

With a sigh, you relented. "The job."

"Go on…"

"Makes it difficult. The job makes it difficult to date. Especially civilians." You added the last bit on with clenched teeth. It didn’t really matter. Civilians were not on your romantic radar.

"Would you want to date a civilian?"

He saw straight through you.

"No, not really."

"Hmm."

You wanted to avoid discussing the topic any further so asked a question to change the subject. "What're you drinking?"

"Scotch that Soap recommended."

"And?"

He swished the glass around, the ice clinking against the side. "Utter shite."

"Figures." You took a long look at his drink. “You drink it on the rocks.”

“Tastes better cold. Less shit.”

“That your second glass?”

"Monitoring my alcohol intake, sergeant?” He asked and you shook your head as he looked you up and down. “You gonna take a seat or just stand there all day?"

"I'm supposed to be going back to my friends." You gestured weakly over your shoulder with your thumb, kind of forgetting they’d still been there until that moment.

His eyes flickered between the table and you. "Think we both know that isn't happening any time soon."

You hated how he saw straight through you. "Do we?"

"We do. Take a seat, sergeant." He nodded towards the stool next to him.

You stood up straighter, making a point to look directly into his eyes. "I like being eye level with you."

His foot hooked around the back of your legs and tugged you closer to him. "Think you'll find that I've still got a couple inches on you."

Your skin flushed hot, he was so close to you. You reached out and tapped his chest a couple times before realising what you were doing and removed your hand. "Think you'll find that you've had a bit too much to drink, sir."

"Simon. Thought we'd established that you can call me Simon." He leant back a little bit, relaxing in his seat. “And thought we agreed that you weren’t monitoring my alcohol intake.”

"Sorry." You squeaked.

"Sorry who?"

With a smile, you looked up at him through your lashes. You already knew what you were going to say. "Sorry... Lieutenant Riley."

He smiled. Actually smiled. It was small but it was unmistakable. "Brat."

He was beautiful when he smiled. He was always beautiful but when Simon Riley smiled… he was radiant.

You lit up at the smile but glowered at the insult. "Simon!"

"It's true." He shrugged, taking another mouthful of his drink and wincing at the taste.

"I'm stubborn. Not a brat."

"Believe me, I know you're stubborn. You've almost died like twelve times because you're stubborn. Had to save you every time." He shook his head as if it were a grievance to him.

"Could've left me behind."

"Couldn't do that. I'm your lieutenant, remember? My role is to keep you alive."

"I'm sure Price would let it slide if you had good enough reason." You thought about your Captain and wondered if he'd let you die for a good enough cause. Probably. But you held no resentment towards that fact.

Simon's head tilted to the side as he watched you think. "Don't think he'd accept brat as a reason, hm?"

You raised a finger to correct him. "Stubborn. Not a brat."

"Definitely a brat."

"Stop calling me that." You whined.

"That was the brattiest thing you've ever said. In the brattiest voice." He glared down at you. "You whined."

"You're such a dickhead, Simon." You scoffed but it was clear you were holding back a smile.

"And you're a brat. Guess we're even."

"Okay, I'm going back to my friends. To get away from this targeted attack." You paused. "Unless you want to join."

"I'll pass."

"I guessed. Do you have any friends? Maybe you could use the socialisation." You offered, wondering whether the man ever spoke to anyone when he was home or if he completely isolated himself from the rest of the world.

"Don't have friends for a reason."

That answered that for you.

"And what's that?"

"Ask too many personal questions."

He had a valid point. People did ask too many personal questions and you could understand why someone like Simon wouldn't like that.

"They wouldn't. My friends. They know we tend to be... private."

"You're a sergeant and I'm a lieutenant. Neither of us are privates." He paused to let the joke settle in. "A little army humour."

"I got it. That was good." You beamed at him, eyes crinkling in the corners at his quip.

"How much do they know of what we do?" He nodded in the direction of your friends.

You thought it over for a moment. "Very little. They know more about my teammates than anything else. Even that is limited."

He stiffened at that. "What do they know of me?"

"My quiet lieutenant with no face. Until recently." You let your eyes roam his features, taking all of him in. He was remarkable to look at really. But you'd never voice that to him.

"Hmm."

"There's more but I won't divulge with you." It was a partial joke to mess with him a little. There was some truth behind it however. You may or may not have gushed about your lieutenant to your friends. But that was nothing really. Just friendly appreciation for the man who outranked you.

"That makes me nervous."

Playing with him was too easy and too fun. "You should be."

"I'm reconsidering sitting with you and your friends now." He frowned but wasn't completely serious.

That surprised you. "You were going to?"

"Maybe." He drank more of the Scotch and trembled. "Christ, this stuff is fucking disgusting."

"Order a bourbon, something you know you actually like." You sighed. "Please do. If they're too much we can leave."

"We?" He was always questioning we.

You rolled your eyes at him. "It's always we. Teammates, y'know?"

A level of unsureness settled over his face. "I know."

"Get used to a lot of we then."

"Don't plan on seeing you again after this." The admittance stung but you weren't going to let that stop you.

"I'm sure you thought that last time as well. But here we are. Are you stalking me?" There was a hint of genuineness in the question. There was no way this second chance encounter was pure coincidence.

He shook his head, waving the bar tender over and ordering a bourbon like you'd suggested. "You're too boring for that."

"You have such a way with words. Really know how to make a lady feel special." You said dryly.

"It's a gift." He scratched at the side of his nose, absentmindedly trailing a finger over one of his scars in the process.

"They wouldn't say anything, y'know? Or stare. If you're worried about that. I've come home with my fair share of scars over the years. They understand." You pulled the neckline of your shirt to the side to show off an old bullet wound that had scarred over on your collar bone.

Simon's eyes lingered on the mark on your skin but you couldn't quite read his expression. "People always stare."

"I don't."

"No, you don't." He hesitated. "Okay then."

"Wait, really?" You perked up.

"Yes, really. Quickly. Before I change my mind, sergeant." He rose from his seat, grabbing his drink and gesturing for you to go first.

You gazed up at him. It really was easy to forget just how big he was. "Quick question first?"

He didn't seem keen. "Go ahead."

"How long were you here watching me before you sent the drink over?" You really needed to know, to see how out of it you were.

"Not long." Lie.

Your brow furrowed. "How long, Simon?"

"About forty minutes."

Your eyes widened. You didn't expect it to have been that long. "Fort- Jesus. And I didn't notice you?"

He brushed you off with a small shrug. "You were having fun. Guard was down."

"Still."

"Don't dwell on it. I was just going to leave and not let you know I was here." His eyes moved away from you, the opposite side of his eye contact problem showing.

You ducked to the side to meet his gaze again. "Why didn't you?"

He shrugged again.

You offered him a small slip of affection, just the tiniest thing. "I'm glad you didn't."

He grunted in reply, which was more than you were expecting. So, you just gestured for him to follow you towards the table of your friends where you stopped short a couple feet away. You sent a quick glance over your shoulder to make sure that Simon was still, in fact, there and hadn't pulled a Ghost and disappeared. But he was still standing there watching you when you checked. Which meant it was time for introductions... which you sucked at.

"Everybody, this is Simon. My lieutenant. Simon this is... everybody." You frowned at the crowded table in front of you. "You'll pick up names. It's alright that he joins us, yeah?"

“Of course.”

"Yeah."

"Oh, my god, yes."

"Take a seat, mate."

"Where you from, Simon?"

"Manchester."

"Ugh, he's a Manc! Moving on!"

You laughed as you squeezed into the booth with Simon next to you, trying not to touch him too much. "What did I miss? What are we talking about?"

"My husband is cheating on me." One of your friends announced dramatically.

Your eyes widened at the confession. "What? Really?"

"I suspect he is." She pouted, slumping forward onto the table.

"As if. He worships the ground you walk on. As he should. What makes you think he's cheating?" You debated whether this was a good topic to be talking about with your lieutenant sat right there. But then you figured that Simon needed some friends. And what was a better way to make friends than through some old-fashioned gossip?

"Late nights as work. Going to the gym a lot. He's not getting any fitter either."

You winced. "Ah, well that is quite damning."

"Yeah. I'm trying to build up the courage to just ask him about it."

"Yeah, confront him. If he's cheating then come to me. I know how to use a gun and hide a body." You winked at her.

"Sergeant." Simon's warning tone came from beside you.

"I'm kidding, lieutenant." You looked to your friend again and mouthed. "I'm not."

Another one of your friends spoke up, leaning on the table on his elbows. "God, you guys are so formal. Even during leave."

"We don't have to be. He refuses to call me anything other than sergeant. I think it's because he secretly doesn't know my name." You nudged Simon with your elbow and then, realising what you'd done, pulled back quickly. Maybe taking a break from the drink would be a good idea for a while.

"Not true." Ghost shook his head slowly.

"So you claim. Yet you've yet to refer to me as anything other than sergeant."

"It's fun watching you squirm thinking you have to be on your best behaviour all the time." He sent you a sly smirk, his eyes squinting just the tiniest bit.

Your jaw dropped. "I'm asking Price to reassign me. This is bullying."

"Wouldn't let Price do it." He countered, leaning in dangerously close.

"Who's Price?"

The both of you pulled back at the question and answered simultaneously. "Captain."

"Ah, okay. The one with the mutton chops, right?" One friend offered.

You nodded. "Right."

Simon huffed. "That's what you told them about Price?"

"It's his best feature."

"Christ, woman." He groaned, rubbing a hand across his face.

"Ooh, woman's a new one."

A friend volunteered in your defence. "To be fair, she's not allowed to tell us much. She usually gives us one identifying feature of every person she tells us about. So we can keep up."

"I'm assuming Soap is the fact that he's Scottish."

"Scottish with Mohawk. He gets two."

"What's Gaz?"

"Baby of the team."

"Fitting. Me?"

You stayed silent.

"What is it?"

You shook your head. "Can't say. Classified."

"Sergeant." His voice was harsh, demanding.

But you weren’t going to give in. "Lieutenant."

"I won't be insulted." His voice dropped to its familiar bored tone, as if trying to force the idea that it wouldn’t bother him.

That’s not what concerned you however. "Don't think you would be."

"Then why can't you tell me?”

"Just can't." Stellar reasoning, well done.

"I could ask them." He tilted his head in the direction of your friends, who were all watching you completely enraptured.

You didn’t back down, stare hardening at him. "Go ahead."

"Fine." He turned to the table. "What's my identifying feature?"

There was a moment of silence before someone gave in and admitted it. Traitors. "You don't have one."

There was a split second of delay before he replied. "She doesn't talk about me then?"

"Quite the opposite actually." One of your friends giggled.

Another stepped in. "Talks about you sooo much that you don't need an identifying feature. Just know who her lieutenant is."

"Besides, apparently you usually wear a mask. You have no features."

A raised finger of a counterpoint. "Arguably, the mask is the feature."

Ghost turned to you, almost smug. "You talk about me, sergeant?"

"Don't flatter yourself, Simon. You're good at what you do. I can appreciate that." You sniffed, rolling your shoulders back to force yourself to relax.

"Out loud? With your friends?"

You shot him an irritated look. "Get over yourself."

"Didn't say anything."

You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth. "I know what you're thinking."

"I'm sure you do." He exhaled deeply, glancing away from you towards his drink.

Your own gaze moved back towards everyone else around the table. "Moving on! What else is happening with you guys?"

"Saw your parents a couple days ago. They said they didn't know you were home."

Well, that wasn’t the jollier topic you hoped to move on to.

A fake smile automatically set itself on your face at the mention of your family. "Fuck. What did you say?"

"Lied for you and said you only just got back. Might want to call them."

"I will do that. At some point.” Lie, lie, lie.

"Mhm, your sister had another baby as well. That's what? The fourth niece or nephew you haven't met?" There was a note of condescension in your friend’s voice.

You shrugged, knowing you had a decent enough reason. If your job counted as decent. "I've been busy. And it's only the second."

"We're not judging. Your parents might be though."

"Well, that's lovely to know." You slouched down in your seat. The relationship with your parents was… touchy, to say the least. Desperately seeking their approval for years had left the bond with them strained. And you being away from home so often definitely hadn’t helped the rockiness of it all.

"Also they seem convinced that you've met a military man and are going to come home engaged or married..."

Your face scrunched in disgust. "Oh, ew. What the fuck?"

Simon elbowed you harshly in the ribs. "We're not that bad."

"Share a bunk with Soap and come back to me on that." You snapped back. Your fellow sergeant was a snorer who regularly farted in his sleep. He was like your brother but man did you hate having to sleep in close proximity to him.

"Fair point.” He grumbled back to you. “But why are they under that impression?"

"They know I don't date civilians."

"Or anyone." One of your friends mumbled in her drink.

"Thank you.” You sent her a sarcastic smile. “So they think I'm after a man in uniform."

"Aren't you?" The same friend asked.

You closed your eyes and clenched your jaw. "In... theory."

"Not in practice though." She carried on, loving the way you were squirming.

"We know not in practice, okay? Doesn't need to be said aloud.” You spared a glance at the man beside you before adding a harsh whisper. “Especially in front of my lieutenant."

"I'm sure Simon is loving this."

"It comes with the job. Family troubles and no love life." He offered some of your words back to you from earlier, shrugging. You were glad of the support from him, even if it was only your own thoughts.

"You got any friends for her Simon? Anyone on the team you think she'd be good with?"

He shook his head. "Nah, not good enough for her."

Wait, what? Not good enough? For you? Since when did he have such a high opinion of you?

A friend of yours cooed. "That's sweet. If it helps, she's great in the sack."

You choked on the mouthful of drink you were taking, slamming your glass back down. "And how exactly would you know that?!"

"I shared a house with you in uni, babes. I remember all those guys coming out of your room with dazed smiles looking as if they'd just had the time of their life." She grinned at you slyly.

Eyes wide. Jaw dropped. Heart racing. "Oh, my god. Please shut up."

"You asked."

"I didn't need such a detailed answer!” You were ignored.

"Although you may be quite rusty at the moment. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

You covered your face with your hands. "For the love of everything that is good in this world, please be quiet."

"I'm just saying. We're all friends here, aren't we?" She laughed, mainly gesturing towards your higher up.

"He's my lieutenant!"

"Wait, Simon, are you single?"

You cut in before it could go any further. "Nope! Okay! So... sister? Baby. Parents? Delusional. What else?"

Everyone around the table chuckled at your reaction but moved on anyway, much to your relief.

"They're hoping you’re home for Christmas this year."

Your hand tightened around your drink. "I hope I'm not."

"Thought you'd say that."

Paying little attention to what your friend actually said, you mumbled to yourself. "That's fucking ridiculous of them. What the actual fuck?"

"We said the same." Mumbled loud enough for them to overhear apparently.

Simon looked confused. "What's the issue there?"

You failed to answer so someone else did for you. "They uninvited her to Christmas three years ago. Hasn't been back since."

"Why would they do that?"

"Didn't approve of her lifestyle."

He turned to you. "Your... lifestyle?"

"Murderer daughter." You bit back, bitterly.

His body tightened with tension. "You're not a murderer."

"Tell them that." You snorted. "Why do they want me home now?"

"Beats us.” Your friends said in weird unison.

"Wish they'd make their mind up over whether they want to disown me or not. It's exhausting trying to keep up."

The table laughed at that. Simon did not. But did he laugh at anything?

“I’m gonna get another drink. Want one?” He looked down at you, pointing vaguely at your almost empty glass.

“Uhh… sure. Thanks.” You smiled at him, which he obviously didn’t return. After briefly asking everyone else if they wanted anything, which they declined, he stalked off in the direction of the bar.

Once he was a few paces away, one of your friends practically launched herself halfway across the table and lowered her voice to a hushed whisper. "He's gorgeous, babes."

You decided to play coy. "You think?"

"You don't?" Her brow was raised in disbelieving accusation.

The coy act was dropped pretty quickly. "Oh, I know he is. Just didn't think you would."

"Well, I do. And he’s definitely your type, absolutely perfect for you. Plus he so likes you."

You scoffed. "No, he doesn't."

"He fancies the pants off of you!" She insisted.

You didn’t buy it. "I can guarantee that he does not."

"He can't take his eyes off you!"

"He has a staring problem." You shrugged, it was true.

"Yeah, the problem is that he can't stop staring at you."

You thought about it. Yeah, he stared at you a lot. But he stared at everything. Didn't mean he stared at you with... feelings or whatever your friends were implying. Just that he had a staring problem.

"Lieutenant Simon Riley does not like me." It was a finalised statement, one that you believed wholeheartedly.

"Open your eyes, babes. He likes you."

"Do you like him?"

Avoid answering. "Not allowed to like him. He's my lieutenant."

"That doesn't answer our question."

Shit.

"Maybe a little." You pinched your fingers together, there was no point lying to them, and shook your head. "Doesn't matter anyway."

"Why?"

"Because, say he did like me, he'd never admit it. And I'm not going to push him into anything. I'm just glad he's talking to me and accepting my attempt at us being friends." That was true. You were loving how he wasn’t completely rejecting your friendship. He maybe wasn’t embracing it but he wasn’t pushing you away either.

"That's so sad, babes."

"Cheers.” You deadpanned. “It can't happen anyway."

"Why not?"

"Relationships aren't allowed. Makes us a liability. My captain would reassign one of us as soon as he caught wind of it. And it would be me." The thought of Price reassigning you was horrid. You loved your team more than anything.

"Simon said he wouldn't let your captain reassign you."

That was true, he did. "He was joking... I think."

"I don't think he was. That man stares at you like he's ready to eat you. It's like listening to Hungry Eyes by Eric Carmen in real life!"

Groan. "You watched Dirty Dancing again, didn't you?"

"Yes, but that's not the point. The point is that Simon looks at you with hungry eyes. And don't judge my love for Dirty Dancing." Two of your friends nodded in agreement with her.

"I'm not. I'm judging your favourite song choice when Love Is Strange by Mickey and Sylvia is clearly the superior song on the soundtrack." You said as you downed the last bit of your drink, thankful Simon was bringing you another one. Your mouth was dry and the initial buzz was wearing off. You’d need more alcohol if this interrogation was going to continue despite it probably not being the best idea.

"Blasphemy!” She declared before quietening herself. “Oop, we gotta be quiet now because he's coming back over. Simon!"

He froze in his tracks, a glass clasped in each large hand. "Yes?"

"Can you settle a debate for us?"

You froze too, wide-eyed. They weren't going to ask about him staring at you, were they?

"Sure...?"

You smiled at his unsure tone. Big, scary man who got shot at for a living was terrified of answering a little question.

"You've seen Dirty Dancing, yeah?"

You relaxed.

"I have."

Surprising.

"Which is a better song? Hungry Eyes or Love Is Strange?"

"Oh, I... uh-"

"Leave the poor man alone." You laughed despite being a little curious about his music taste.

"I always liked She's Like the Wind."

That shocked you to your core. "Patrick Swayze fan?"

"Used to have a mullet just like his." He placed your drink in front of you. "Here you go. You look surprised."

"I always am when you don't disappear. And when you admit to being a Patrick Swayze fan." You snorted, taking the drink from him.

"Learn to have a little faith, Sarge." He sighed as he sat down next to you again, an inch closer than before you were sure.

A burning feeling settled in your chest at the nickname. Sure, it was only a shortened version of your rank, and a common one at that, but it was something. Not sergeant. Not woman. Sarge. You decided to let it slide to see if he’d ever do it again of his own accord.

"Your name's Ghost for a reason." You sing-songed, the image of his mask flashing through your mind.

"I'll give you that. But remember, Simon here."

"Still weird."

"Still Simon."

You chewed the inside of your bottom lip before asking your next question. "Patrick Swayze?"

"He was blond."

"Like you, you mean?"

Hesitation. "Yeah."

You hummed and thought about him with a mullet. What an odd thing to admit to you. But you’d never complain. If Simon was willing to offer you little tidbits of silly information about himself, then you were going to absorb every single one and treasure them forever.

A/N: Simon with a mullet as a teen because he wanted to be Patrick Swayze when he grew up is canon to me now.

[gamermattsgf]

Horror movie hot takes // Matt + Chris

Again, I’m sorry that this is not my proper writing, but don’t worry! My breeding kink oneshot is on its way, I gotchu guys ;) I’m hopefully going to be dropping it some time in the middle of the week, so this is just some light and fun reading to do until then whilst you wait - if you want of course… pls humour my stupid ideas lol.

Thank you to whoever suggested this because I’ve been dying to give u guys my breakdown. Horror is one of my FAV genres, idk why, I just love scaring myself. Also, I don’t have just one to share with u guys, but three different options each because it’s such an expansive genre with so many probable things to pick from. You guys can probably tell that I have way too much fun with these things… (Plus they’d look good in multiple different genres and I rlly wish I could add more but I don’t want these to get too long bc they’re meant to be hot takes).

Obviously, a couple of the pictures I’ve used for the visuals may be potentially triggering as they contain blood and other disturbing bits of paraphernalia, so please if you’re squeamish, proceed with caution!!

But anyways…

Matt:

First up Matt’s most likely to star in some type of rural corn maze horror. I’m thinking proper Southern gothic style, low quality, out in the sticks and with only a small population in the farming town where he resides.

I could so see the storyline following the main character who moves to this place, but very quickly gets that sinking feeling in her stomach that there’s something not right about the town, from the way the locals look at her to the way Matt speaks when she first arrives. There’s got to be that cliché plot line where something suspicious is afoot, something that she wants to unearth.

Matt’s character gives off creepy neighbour vibes, like the kind that watches the main character from behind his curtains as she unloads the moving truck. This Matt is properly country too, from the cowboy boots on his feet to his red flannel shirt and his shotgun that he randomly carries around because he’s a sheep farmer (do I envision him using his country accent, yes, yes I do).

Long story short, the rural town isn’t just a town, it’s actually a cult, and the reason the farmers rear cattle and mind sheep is so that they can conduct ritualistic sacrifices with them.

(I lowkey wish this was a movie I’d eat this kind of twisted shit up)

For his second movie I’m absolutely obsessed with the idea of putting him in a domestic psychological thriller- so proper stalking vibes. I’m thinking something like ‘You’ but almost making him a more extreme version of Joe Goldberg.

Possibly he’s maybe the main character’s co-worker, who takes the secret affection he has for her a little too far? Or even just an absolutely psychotic ex that refuses to let her go… In short this is the kind of movie that doesn’t quite give you that exhilarating rush of jump-scares, but instead tries to make you as physically uncomfortable as possible with an absolutely horrific instrumental soundtrack playing underneath it.

I’m not sure why I chose this branch of horror, but something about the way Matt looks just really did it for me, it’s so difficult to explain but his physical appearance fits the overall image of someone with an obsessive attitude towards a loved one.

Three words. Found footage horror. These kind of horror movies scare me the most because of that idea of it being ‘found footage’. Equally, ‘based on true story’ horrors also mildly unsettle me just because of that idea that it’s been reimagined from a real life event.

Matt’s found footage is giving ‘The Blair Witch Project’, I can defintely see him out in the wilderness with a bunch of his really close friends, all with camcorders in their hands as they document their time camping in the woods. Until everything goes terribly wrong. And they get lost. And are picked off one by one until Matt is the only one standing.

There is no soundtrack this time, just heavy breathing, crunching leaves underneath running footsteps, the sound of the wind in the trees and the occasional blood curdling shriek of whatever is hunting them down.

(I should seriously become a director lmaoo)

Chris:

Now onto Chris… most people often think Chris would thrive in a classic 90’s slasher flick- like ‘Scream’ or ‘Friday the 13th’ which I’m not going to argue against because he really would look great in one. It fits his overall vibe of being the jock boyfriend that is one of the first ones to die after him and his girlfriend stupidly break off from the group to ‘fool around’.

HOWEVER, I personally think that a game show gore horror is more his speed, it fits his skill set better. I feel like Chris would be really versatile in this kind of high-pressure environment and I’d honestly love to see him in a franchise like the ‘Saw’ movies (I want to hear him whimpering in pain) -WHAT…? Who said that??

This Chris is just an ordinary guy who works an ordinary but depressingly mundane job that does not come with the best pay… so what happens when he gets an ad mailed through his letter box promising money to whoever volunteers to try out this new and exciting game for a reality tv show? Well it’s simple, Chris would do anything for a dollar, so he signs up- not taking into account at all about how advertisements like this aren’t normally personally mailed to a person and that quite possibly this letter had actually been specifically targeted to people who were known to be in desperate need of some spare change.

The result? A wicked sadist trapping these poor people into machines and torturing them for his own personal gain.

(Fuck I love this idea)

This next one is a bit of a curve ball but roll with me here… a deep sea horror. Fun fact about me, I have horrible thalassophobia, and a severe fear of sharks (I know, stupid) but I can’t help it lol, they terrify me. However, still rolling with the overall cocky/jock/playboy characterisation of Chris, I could definitely picture him being some form of deep sea diving protege that’s a cave diving expert.

He’s a side character in the thriller that is called in when they need help with locating whatever monster lurks beneath the waves. Due to his speciality in the field, he’s one of the best, and co-leads a team of divers through a cave to see if they can sus out its location.

This Chris likes to wear a lot of blue things, and he’s constantly either smugly chewing on gum or is biting a toothpick within his teeth with an air of superiority about him. The soundtrack helps with the overall gritting suspense of the movie and keeps you on the edge of your seat constantly with jump-scares around every corner.

And finally, who the fuck would I be if I didn’t rope Chris into a zombie/pandemic apocalypse horror? Because this kind of movie has Chris written all over it, real TWD style. For some reason, within the whole horror genre in its entirety Chris fits the branch of gore horror the best, blood, guts and big spectacles of action packed violence. You name it, Chris looks like he could be apart of it.

In an apocalypse kind of situation, Chris would definitely be either a side character who you meet maybe about half way through the series - possibly from some other rival gang that threatens to steal your weapons - or one of the original main characters that have survived thus far. His weapon of choice is definitely either a trusty crowbar, or a classic metal baseball bat, something that he can really swing and satisfy his frenzied killing needs with.

Aesthetics wise, he wear a black bandana to keep the hair out of his face, a white tank top and army green cargo shorts. Pair them with some heavy duty black boots and you’ve got yourself a mighty attractive apocalypse survivor to spend the rest of your shortened life span with.

Author’s notes: someone needs to take my phone AND my imagination away from me immediately at this point, it’s too powerful when they’re put together. I get wayyyy too carried away with this shit lol. I have such a vivid imagination it’s insane to me, I be writing whole ass screen plays for these Jesus Christ. But anyways, I wanna see those two in a horror movie so fucking bad (if you couldn’t tell hehe). Or maybe just watch a horror movie with them… like- dw baby boy I’ll hold your hand at the scary bits hahahaha.

Again, a list of people who I think would entertain my silly little ideas: @luvmila444 @luv4kozume @luverboychris @mattestrella @mattslutt @nicksmainbitch @ellie-luvsfics @orangeypepsi @sturniolosreads @sturniolowhore @sturniolosstar @imwetforyourmom @thesturniolos @strniohoeee @rootbeerworshiper @lacysturniolo @matthemunch @1800chokedathoe @asturniolos @vecnasnose0 @meanttomeet @mattscokewhore @stursweet @breeloveschris @kvtie444 @lovingmattysposts @bernardsgf @fake-sturniolos

[gtgbabie0]

Hello love, I love your work of both Leon and Cregan. I was wondering if I could request a Leon story? It's been a few months since his mission to save Ashley, Leon and his girlfriend are enjoying domestic life, he's got PTSD and she helps him through everything, even though he he doesn't not deserve her. He's so in love with her that he knows he will marry her. Maybe a marriage proposal?

-Leon Kennedy x Reader

{Leon finds himself reflecting on everything you’ve done for him after Spain leading him to propose to you}

I’m so very sorry this took me so long to write! Hope you enjoy 💕

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Leon hasn’t been the best company since returning from Spain, he knows this deep down despite how he tries so desperately to shove all the feelings away instead of facing them. He’s never really been good at emotions choosing to bottle them all up until the pressure becomes too much and he loses control.

He hates himself for it, how he feels almost stained by the things he’s endured. Dirty in some odd way that not even himself could make sense of it.

Then there’s you, so very beautiful as you sit on the bed with some puzzle book you had brought. He watches from the doorway as you frown so softly trying to figure out the letters to the mystery words.

You’re so sweet, clean, he thinks. Not tainted by the monsters of the world and for that, he’s almost envious. Leon had sworn to himself long ago that he’d protect you from it all the best he could, and perhaps that’s why he chooses not to talk much about it, to save you from ever knowing the truth.

The corners of his mouth tug upwards in an almost sad smile as you look up at him, “I’m sorry for waking you up baby” he mumbles, voice heavy with exhaustion as he slips on the hoodie you left on the radiator for him.

You shake your head in dismissal. He had a nightmare, a bad one. The type that left him speechless and the only thing he wanted was to shower, to clean himself of the filth that plagues him, inside and out.

He hadn’t had a nightmare for the last couple of weeks and now there's a stubborn feeling of disappointment that he can’t seem to shake, he thought he was getting better.

You pat the space beside you, urging him to sit down with you and he does. “No need to apologise, it’s what I’m here for,” you tell him, putting the puzzle book away in the bedside drawer before holding your arms out to him.

He shuffles to lay between your legs, head resting against your collarbones as he lets out a long, heavy sigh. “You won’t be saying that tomorrow when you have to wake up for work” he grumbles and you can tell he feels guilty for waking you up at three in the morning.

“Well lucky me, I booked the weekend off. I wanted to spend it with you,” you tell him, playing with his shower-damp hair. You can feel as he smiles against your skin, his strong arms wrapping around ever so softly.

“Thought you’d be bored of me already” he whispers, closing his eyes as your fingers graze against his scalp gently.

You scoff, “Bored of you? Don’t be silly” You turn your head to press a kiss to his cheek, smiling as he nuzzles his nose into your neck.

Leon doesn’t understand how you can be so patient when it comes it him, the way you always seem to be there for him. In the times when things get tough and all he wants is to drown himself in his own self-destruction, it’s you who keeps him afloat and you haven’t the slightest idea of just how much you do for him without knowing.

There’s a silence that surrounds the pair of you, it’s comforting and the only thing you can hear is his soft breaths. You think for a second he’s fallen back asleep but then his hands are sliding their way under your shirt, warm against your skin as they caress at your sides.

“What’s going on Leon? You’ve been quiet this week” you ask, keeping a hushed tone as you press a kiss another kiss to the top of his head. “Talk to me baby, please?”

He sighs, of course you had noticed, you were bound to sooner or later. It hurts to think about it, and that’s why Leon has tried to hide the engagement rig in the depths of his bedside table, tucked away in the drawer.

He’d planned it all out so perfectly. The date, the time, the place. He was finally going to pop that big question, to ask you to be his forever and always, but then he got the call the night before and soon enough he found himself flying all the way out to Spain.

“I just- I wish things could just be simple” he whispers, trying to bite back the tears, “I just want things to be simple” the quiver in his voice gives him away.

Leon still wants to marry you, that’s something he’s known for a very long time. He thinks back to that night you helped him.

He couldn’t sleep, his apartment was so empty barren of any life or joy. So without a call or a text, he showed up at your house, tired and on the brink of a breakdown and you didn’t say anything, or bombard him with questions. Instead, you simply took his hand in your own and guided him through your house.

He remembers just how comforting the atmosphere was, the warmth, the smell, the way your hand felt against his, it was home.

You’d run him a bath, candles and your favourite soaps and he cried when you offered to wash his hair, he’d cried even harder at how soft you were as you placed gentle kisses against his shoulder. It was that night he decided he wanted to spend forever with you.

“Can I tell you something?” He asks, sitting up with teary eyes. You nod as you pull down your sleeve before reaching over to his face, wiping away the stray tears.

Leon reaches for your hands and the once comforting energy turns a bit more serious, making you sit up crossing your legs as you do so.

“What happened?” You ask, a lot more cautious than you had intended as if you were anticipating dreadful news.

“It’s nothing bad, honey” he smiles bringing your hand to press a soft kiss to your knuckles, his lips linger for a moment before he brings your conjoined hands down to his lap and the gentleness brings your heart to ease.

Leon doesn’t know when to start there are so many words but none of them seem to be nearly enough to describe his feelings. You squeeze his hands gently, a silent way to let him know you’re listening.

That seems to do the trick. “You mean the world to me you know?” He lets out a heavy sigh as his stomach turns, something about the way you’re looking at him and the nervousness that seems to cling to him.

“I can’t imagine what it’d be like to live without you, I don’t want to live without you. I know these past couple of months have been so… difficult and I need you to know that-” he drops his head as he takes a deep, shaky breath.

“I love you so much, you have no idea how grateful I am for you” his tone is so sincere, full of nothing but love and gratitude and the emotion bleeds into his face, you catch a glimpse of it through his eyes when he looks at you like a love-sick puppy.

His words have your eyes welling up, “Leon I- I don’t know what to say” You let out a teary giggle and all he can do is smile at you as he leans to press a kiss to your cheek before reaching over to his bedside table, pulling something out clasped between his hands.

“What’s that?” You ask in a quiet whisper, feeling a little nervous.

“I’ve wanted to ask you for a long time” he opens the little, grey box studying your face with soft eyes.

He watches you gasp as your watery eyes widen, you look at him then the rings twice before taking a shaky breath. They glisten underneath the warm light of the lamp.

You fling your arms around his neck pushing him down on the bed as you lay on top of him, and an excited giggle of “Yes one hundred times yes” leaves your lips as you pepper his face with kisses.

He chuckles underneath you, his hands against your hips. You pull back slightly to look down at him. There are tears in his eyes and you’re quick to wipe them away with your thumbs. The pair of you filled with nothing but pure joy and nothing could ever ruin this moment. It's refreshing Leon thinks, to feel so happy after these past couple of months.

“I love you, so much” he whispers as you press your forehead against his.

“I love you too, so much” you giggle between kisses before sitting up. Leon follows you as he opens the ring box, taking your ring out and slipping on your finger. He smiles at you and he swears on everything to keep you this happy forever and always.

It’s not perfect, it’s not the plan he came up with all those months ago before Spain, but the look you’re giving him, eyes full of excitement, makes it all worth it.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

[posh--bee]

headcanons || König

author’s note → Wanted to write something so have some random headcanons about our favorite big boy, enjoy! ❤️ Also, I’m German so I don’t know too much about Austria and even less about trying to learn German and speaking with someone with an Austrian dialect so please excuse any inaccuracies or things that don’t make sense.

really bad at shaving, like really bad

while his hands can get pretty shaky in daily situations because of his anxiety, it doesn’t really happen when he’s concentrating, especially when he’s on the battlefield

- there he can get pretty hyper and excited and in a morbid sort of way giddy, but his hands are still, if a little fidgety like the rest of him

is good with even the most delicate little tasks despite shaky hands if he’s just patient enough, but somehow shaving of all things is the bane of his existence

has little cuts and nicks on his face and neck all the time and is glad for his hood that hides all of them, he doesn’t even want to imagine all the teasing comments the other soldiers would direct at him because of it

mostly uses an electric razor but even with that he managed to cut himself

because of all of this he has some stubble at all times

- tried growing a beard which did work (and looked pretty good in his opinion) but he soon realized that to care of it he still needed to use a razor or even scissors which of course led to cuts

if you see him struggling to shave one morning in the bathroom and offer to help him with it, he’ll give you the softest, most loving look before nodding and handing you the razor

- you have to sit him down somewhere while standing between his legs because standing he’s too just tall for you and too restless, always shifting his weight from one foot to the other, guaranteeing new little cuts which is literally the opposite of what you’re aiming for

- you take your time with it, making sure not to hurt him, completely focused on the task while his blue eyes watch your face with pure adoration in them

- when you’re done, he’ll grab your face and cover it with little kisses, making you giggle and push against his chest in weak protest because now you have little spots of shaving cream all over your face as well

- has half a mind to ask you to help him shave every morning from now on, not because he really wants or needs to shave every morning, but because of the domesticity of it all, the tenderness you treat him with and the look of utter concentration on your face, your nose scrunching adorably and your tongue poking out

aside from scars on his skin he also has stretch marks on different parts of his body but never paid too much attention to them, too occupied worrying about how you’ll react to the countless scars littering almost every part of his skin when the two of you started dating

- needless to say, your reaction was completely positive and compassionate, smiling up at him sweetly and taking his hands in yours before sitting him down on the bed, taking your time to gently trace the scars on his skin, pressing your lips to some of them, watching his face flush at your loving touches, stubbornly blinking the tears in his eyes away

- now he’s back to the point where any scars or marks on his skin don’t bother him and even tells you some of the stories behind them, mostly about the scars that were accidents and have nothing to do with his work, but sometimes he’ll tell you about those as well

König is a big boy, not only tall but muscular as well so I imagine he got stretch marks in his teens from multiple growth spurts and some more later when he joined the military and started training, gaining muscles fast

- if you’re insecure about your own stretch marks and open up about it to him, he’ll wordlessly take off his shirt (which in itself is a great distraction that lifts your mood instantly) and points out all of the stretch marks on his body, letting you trace them with your fingers, reassuring you that while you don’t have to love them on your body or find them beautiful you should be kinder to yourself, be as accepting of yourself as you are of him, telling you how much he loves you, all of you

this man sees one ray of sunlight for just a moment too long and he gets sunburned even if he’d bathe in sunscreen

- of course sunscreen helps but he just can’t stay in the sun for too long if his skin is exposed

isn’t bothered by heat which is good because sometimes he finds himself in extremely hot regions because of his work, wearing his heavy tactical gear and running around and fighting in it for a long time

- is actually glad for the gear and the hood because not only can he conceal his identity (and all the tiny cuts on his face) but also not an inch of his skin is exposed to the burning sunlight

isn’t really bothered by having a sunburn even if it hurts, but starts to whine and complain about it once he realizes that you’ll pamper him because of it (even more than you already do anyway)

tries to be a reasonable adult and not stay in the sun for too long but loves outdoor activities too much for that to really be effective

- if you scold him for it (even if playfully) he’ll sigh deeply but promise you to be more careful, having made the same promise to his grandmother and mother over and over again as a child and now his partner does the same; he really thought he could escape this topic now that he’s an adult but apparently not

wouldn’t expect you to learn German for him but would try to learn your first language(s) if it’s not English

- is actually pretty good with languages, is a fast learner and just enjoys studying languages

- however, his social anxiety makes talking to strangers in a foreign language pretty hard; he’d love to order his food in a foreign country in the country’s language but even the act of ordering itself makes his heart speed up in panic

- that’s why he loves talking to you in your first language(s) even more, even though his language skills might still be rough

- could listen to you speaking your first language(s) for hours even if you’re talking way too fast for him to fully understand what you’re talking about

- loves when you praise him for the progress that he made, always wanting to be rewarded with kisses when he managed to pronounce a difficult word even with his Austrian accent

(just as a side note: both König’s German and English voice lines in the game have a Standard German “dialect”/accent so we’re just going to have to imagine an authentic Austrian dialect/accent)

now if you start learning German and tell König about it, he’ll be over the fucking moon, literally vibrating in his seat with how happy and excited he is about that

offers to help you and practice with you, but even if you want to do it on your own, he’ll still be ecstatic

- is very patient with you if you ask for his help, correcting your grammar and pronunciation which can confuse you because sometimes his Austrian dialect comes through even though he tries very hard to use Standard German with you because that’s what you’re studying

the internet has told me that learning German can be a nightmare but depending on what your first language(s) is maybe it’s not so bad? But regardless, König is your personal cheerleader, always motivating you to keep going when you feel like you want to strangle a little green owl or throw your textbook out of the window

once you’re pretty confident with (Standard) German you realize that Austrian German may not be an official language but for a learner, you have to study it as such anyways; making new vocab lists, memorizing specific sayings, and mastering grammatical peculiarities

Austria has many different regional dialects so once you ask König to just speak like he normally would his dialect is now yours, congratulations!

- would tease you (gently) about it when he realizes you start using his expressions, words, and pronunciation while speaking German with him

still tries to keep his Austrian dialect under control when speaking to you because he doesn’t want to overwhelm you but after he speaks to his family on the phone his dialect is back with 110% strength and he doesn’t realize it until you beg him to at least speak a little slower in order to understand him

with texting in German you feel relatively safe because König just texts in Standard German with some informal phrasing or slang but when he’s not thinking too much about it he also texts in Austrian German and if you’re not yet super confident with his dialect yet you’ll just have to text back “German please :(” and he’ll repeat what he wants from you while chuckling to himself

now if you already speak German, König is so happy about sharing his native language with you, switching between German and English without having to worry about you not understanding him

- if you speak Standard German (or any German dialect that is not Austrian) you’ll sometimes get into playful disagreements about how to pronounce some words, what the correct names for certain pastries are, and just general teasing of each other’s version of German

- if you speak German with an Austrian dialect yourself you’ll also have yourself a very happy boyfriend, bonding over your shared language and getting in mildly serious arguments over which version is the one true version, the best of all of them (it’s yours, König decided, because it’s you who speaks it, but he won’t tell you that, his regional pride will never let him)

that man can’t eat spicy food to save his life

- Austrian food may be a lot of things but spicy is not one of them (it’s in the very middle of Europe, what did you expect?) 

if you’re like him then it’s settled, no spicy food for you unless you feel really adventurous

if you however like and cook spicy food, König will always be very brave and give it a taste but it’ll never be his favorite food even if it breaks his heart because you made it

- while you feel bad for him you can’t deny that watching this mountain of a man almost cry because of mildly spicy food and running to the fridge for milk is pretty entertaining

- will pout at you if he notices your amusement but is easily pacified with a few kisses and some candy and chocolate

this man cannot sit or stand still (when not on the battlefield that is)

when sitting down is always bouncing his leg without even noticing it (hahaha I do that…)

is it from anxiety? Is he just a little restless? Is it both? Who knows, he for sure doesn’t because he doesn’t even notice it without it being pointed out to him

if you’re like him on that you’ll both just sit next to each other while doing your little leg bouncing, grinning at each other when you do notice that it’s a quirk that you both share

if you’re like my mom and my friends who can’t stand watching someone be fidgety out of the corner of their eyes, you’ll lay a hand on his restless leg to stop his movements or gently slap his thigh

- he’ll always be surprised when you do it, immediately stopping and apologizing to you because he really didn’t notice that he started doing it (and then ten minutes later you’ll have to point it out to him again because it’s subconsciously and he just can’t help himself)

- after a while he starts bouncing his leg on purpose next to you because he learned that you’ll place your hand on his thigh and keep it there to remind him to not start with it again; he just loves feeling your touch no matter how small or innocent

[vampirzina]

˚୨୧⋆｡ ┆ father!tomas vrbada (w. spouse!reader) hcs

tw: gn pronouns, suggestive themes, mdni, domesticity, kuai liang and bi han mentions

notes: for the sake of the story reader has a cooter

masterlist

It’s not all that surprising that you had twins. It’s exhausting running after them both as they grow older, but Tomas cakewalks it and still makes time to love on you as much as he did before they were born. As infants, Tomas hardly ever puts them down except for tummy time and the chores that require more effort than just one hand. As soon as he finishes [the task], he picks the opposite twin up (so that “they don’t feel jealous of the other”). He even picks you up when he has that insatiable urge to just hold someone brought on from parenthood.

Tomas engages in anything his kids want him to, even if it’s overtly ridiculous. Tea parties, house, having to watch over a doll like it’s their baby, dinosaur re-enactments, helping shovel dirt to bury something just to dig it back up again, faux makeovers—just anything you can name. His pride is not easily hurt by something as simple as something he feels is the bare minimum, and if you catch him, he gets you involved, too. When Tomas is busy [working] and he has to deny a child, he is 100% going to make it up to them with lots of snacks and playtime. You won’t have Tomas to yourself until late night; he’s the type of father to want to spend the entire day with his children, but can’t.

Tomas loves to tell stories his mother told him about him and his own twin sister. It’s usually in the spur of the moment, like when you’re both watching them play or after they’ve both fell/went to sleep and you’re talking about plans for them. You’re not the only ear he tells it to, and he says it to his own kids as well when he’s got the time for play with them—Tomas answers any and all questions that they might have, but kids are not all that emotionally mature enough to understand that sometimes you can’t just ask certain questions or say certain things. It makes Tomas sad on the inside, but he toughs it out and waits until you’re both alone to find your comfort.

If your kids show interest in the Shirai Ryu, Tomas is glad to teach them! Even if they’re not, he does want to teach them how to fight anyway. If you’re willing, you’ll have to serve as their model as your husband practices on you to show them how it’s done. If not, Hanzo or Kuai Liang is a good alternative. He’ll be as gentle as possible so that they don’t go hurting each other to bruises, of course, but he always has to reiterate that on real opponents they’ll have to hit harder. To make it fair, Tomas wants them to practice on each other, and he the referee. If one of them get hurt too badly you may be upset more than Tomas, so he’s almost too careful.

As for their uncle, Tomas tries to bring them (and you) around Kuai Liang as much as possible. He’s not really a selfish person in most cases, as he values family a lot. After Bi Han, it’s important to him that the rest of the family he has left gets along well—so what better way to do this by having the whole family in one place at the same time? Tomas’ number one favorite thing to do with Kuai Liang, spouse and children is to have one big dinner at any time of the year. He triple checks the children are properly accounted for first even after you’ve done so yourself before anything else, and then comes back to your waiting arms.

You and Tomas would probably only have twins. Although Tomas is busy at the Shirai Ryu, he wouldn’t be opposed to just one more child if you asked. But if that’s not what you want or see in the future with him, he honors that as if his life completely depends on it. He already worships the ground you walk on and kisses more than just your feet even before you gave him twins, and he couldn’t have asked for a greater gift. However if you agree [to having another baby], Tomas would be ecstatic to try again for as long as it takes. Quickie or not, anything counts, to him.

@𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐙𝐈𝐍𝐀೨

info

[heavencanbeaprisontoo]

Living with Thomas Shelby Headcanons

Notes: These hcs were made for an AU were Grace doesn’t reunite with Tommy.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, PTSD, some suggestive language, violence.

Domestic Headcanons

-Tommy is a man that wants his home to be a symbol of sanctuary and his hard-won wealth. Arrow House accomplished that goal. A massive manor made of brick and stone, it reminds you of Tommy in a way. Solid, cold, secretive… hollow. It takes a lot for you to get used to living there. After some time passes, Arrow House’s interior starts to reflect more of your personal tastes. It adds a warmth that was lacking. Tommy won’t admit it, but he’s grateful for it.

- The servants take some adjusting to, absolutely. Tommy actually cracks a smile when you jump at the soft voice of a maid from the doorway. He’s less amused when that jump rips you from his lap. The way Tommy acts in his home, you would think it’s just the two of you living there. He has little issue pushing you to his desk or pinning you to a wall to have his fill of you.

- If you show any sign of knowing how to ride a horse, or that you would like to learn, expect dates on horseback. These dates aren’t necessarily filled with chatter, but you enjoy them. Tommy relaxes in a way you don’t normally see. Traveling over the hills and across these wide plains with him feels so peaceful. Sometimes he talks of his heritage with you. How his mother would tell him stories of his father’s courting of her. They would ride alone, in secret. Horses are precious to his people, as is this time spent with you. A part of him likes seeing that you can live in both worlds with him. Challenge him to a race and you’ll watch the years fall from his face. He becomes almost boy like when he charges past you, perhaps even cracking a smile when he wins.

- He knows many riddles and jokes, he used to say them often. You only found out about it when he told a few silly jokes to a stable boy who had sprained his ankle while working. The boy was terrified Tommy would fire him. He sent him home with his month’s wages and told him to get well.

- When you start sleeping in the same bed as Thomas Shelby as his partner and not just his lover, get ready. His demons always catch up to him in his dreams. He thrashes some nights. Once, Tommy woke you with a scream. The Devil of Small Heath is quick to regain his composure, but you swear you saw him wipe tears from his cheeks. He doesn’t like to be comforted. At least that’s how he tries to act the first few hundred times you attempt to console him. Over time, he lets you hold him. It’s a bit silly. This man let you move in with him and share his bed, yet it took him so long to just let you see him be weak.

Relationship Headcanons

- Beneath all the new money and designer suits beats the heart of a simple man. He likes to read the paper in the mornings and (when he was still drinking) have a splash of whiskey in his coffee. Little homemade things like a lunch packed for him will fluster him. If you rush him with such a thing for him to take with him, it’ll make his day. He will try to refuse, but he doesn’t mean it. Write him a simple note with a kiss. You might just find a stack of these little notes in his desk one day.

- Tommy gets up at odd hours as his sleep is rarely if ever regular. There are mornings where you roll over and his spot in the bed is cold. You call the family office and hear from his secretary that he’s been in for hours. And the sun isn’t even up. That leaves you a lot of time alone in the house. You get to know the staff very well for this reason. Tommy sometimes looks to you to remember the names of butlers or cooks before he makes a specific request or reprimand. The servants all generally like you a lot more than Tommy because of this.

- Lingering touches and soft kisses to the cheek are frequent behind closed doors. Only. No PDA. He hates to look soft. Do not do cute things in front of his men. It will irritate him. That said, privately? He likes to take a seat on the bed you share and have you stand between his legs so he can hold you close. Stare up at you like you hang the stars. Pull you on top of him as he lays back. Perfect way to end a day in Tommy’s opinion.

- Thomas Shelby is a man who loses as much as he gains. People cannot be counted on without fear in his world. No matter how much he loves you, there will always be doubt. Doubt that you won’t survive loving a man like him. Doubt that your loyalty may be decaying with every cold word and impassive wave he sends your way. This is only one of his quirks that have you contemplating homicide on a bad day.

- Part of his fear surrounding you is that he is a man that does not fall first, but he falls harder. You may not always see it, but he would burn the world for you. He will kill for you. If you ever killed for him, Tommy would know his fears were for nothing. Head wouldn’t know what to do with himself after. He’s never had a lover that would watch his back for him like you. Tommy would never ask for you to do it again. Ever. But knowing you’re as dark-hearted as him might make him more open to strategizing with you. Make you his confidant. The Lilith to his Lucifer.

[megistusdiary]

We know Scara is rough but-

What if its readers first time? Would he be gentle?

(I actuallt requeated this before but i tought you might have overlooked it because it has been a while i requested. If u saw it and deleted it please ignore this 😊)

hey! i think i remember seeing it but my inbox is so full- i think i have about 65 ish requests rn ;w; they built up over time and i do not think i will ever get through all of them ☹️

however, lately i have been in a scara mood so i will be writing this one 🤞 it is really long because i have been in the mood to write more dialogue and plot lately :)

i know you are all probably tired of the really long stories with minimal smut but i guess it's a side effect of me being mushy in the brain.

i firmly believe scaramouche is an asshat, but i think if you were really vulnerable he would take pity mostly because it reminds him of his past and feeling vulnerable 👎👎

also, i think if he was to take a partner, it would need to be someone strong asf who can stand up and challenge him. he would honestly be smug if he thought he could teach you something.

warnings: dom!scaramouche and sub!fem anatomy/gender neutral pronouns reader

sweet and sour scaramouche, degradation/praise, he calls you 'human,' fingering/penetration (sub!receiving),

scaramouche stared at the pot of stew boiling over the fire. he occasionally reached over to add spices and stir the liquid with the wooden spoon, flames reflecting off of his deep blue irises.

he watched the soup with blank, dead eyes, brain long gone and focused on other matters. particularly what had occurred earlier that afternoon.

the two of you had your usual sparring match, you fought for a bit, he pushed, you pushed back, and it all ended with him on top, of course. naturally, even the strongest of fighters didn't stand a chance against a being made to exist as a puppet for the raiden shogun.

however, this time, something was different. there was a certain tension between the two of you.

now, scaramouche was not ignorant on the pleasures and desires of flesh. though he had not felt anything similar to this in many years. he had experience, though he knew he was out of practice in some ways.

so it surprised him when you landed on top of him, chests pressed together, your noses touching. he could feel your heart beating rapidly against his chest, and the ghost of a heartbeat in his own-

he immediately had shoved you off of him, hearing you gasp when you rolled over. "go shower and get changed, i'm going to cook dinner."

that was another thing he had never done before...cook for anyone.

perhaps it was a shock to find out that scaramouche knew how to cook in the first place. he claimed to have learned by himself, but you both knew that he must have picked recipes up from his time as a traveling puppet.

but none of this mattered to scaramouche, only your peculiar reaction to being on his chest. he could see the way your eyes went comically wide. he was sure if he hadn't pushed you off first, you would've scrambled to get up yourself.

but why? was he that undesirable?

scaramouche suddenly jumped when he realized his hand was resting on the burning pot, cursing the archons themselves when he cradled his hand to his chest.

damn you for distracting him. he knew it would be best to dispose of you, but he couldn't bring himself to no matter how many times he walked this path.

when it finally came time to serve the stew, you were already there, taking the ladle and filling up your bowls to the top, carefully walking them to the dinner table. he never thought he would live any type of domestic life, and it perplexed him how he ended up in this situation in the first place.

dinner was quiet, as per usual, though him clearing his throat put you on edge.

"about our sparring match today," he began, making you tense up as you avoided his gaze. "you were slacking off, like always. i can tell." he scoffed, sipping the stew.

"do you want me to learn to hurt you?" there was a slightly teasing lilt to your voice that made scaramouche grunt.

"you could at least give me a challenge." he leaned back in the chair, stirring his bowl. "though, i must say you did catch me by surprise at the end."

he watched you duck your head, face heating up as you cleared your throat. "i...apologize for that. i didn't mean to end up, uh, on top of you."

scaramouche narrowed his eyes at you. "why do you look so shameful?"

you looked up at him this time, lips pressed together tightly as you dropped your soup spoon into your bowl. "because i didn't mean to offend you. if i have, please, don't beat around the bush. tell me so i-"

"i am only asking because you act like you've never touched a man before."

you coughed, immediately reaching for your water before scaramouche snatched it away from you.

"no more distractions. tell me why that is. does my touch or form displease you, human?"

your brows furrowed. what was he on??

"what are you talking about?"

"answer me." he barked, clearly upset.

you couldn't tell him the truth, you just couldn't. it was difficult enough to live with him knowing he hated you. this would surely make him get rid of you.

"i- i can't." you told him, dropping your head once more as you forced yourself to stay neutral.

"and why is that?"

"because you would hate me-" scaramouche opened his mouth, though you paid no mind, "more than you already do."

scaramouche pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. "i never said i hated you. humans get on my nerves, i don't typically like your kind." he leaned his head back, staring up at the ceiling. "but i suppose i make an exception for you."

you stared up at him, wide eyed, lips parted as you struggled to collect yourself. "you- well, i-" you couldn't seem to find the right words, brain failing to communicate with scaramouche. "so you're not mad at me?"

"no." he confirmed curtly as you nodded. "but i would still like to know, indulge me, what was with that terrified little human act?"

"i did not want to offend you by being so close. i know you despise physical touch."

scaramouche sighed. "you know, it would be so much easier if you didn't lie to me. i can hear your leg bouncing beneath the table."

you immediately froze at his comment, willing your body to sit still. you felt yourself tremble under his gaze.

and so, you were finally caught.

how long had he known? how did he feel about it? what if he-

"tell me the truth."

you suddenly stood up, slamming your hands on the table. you were running on pure adrenaline, ignoring the shocked look he gave you. "if you want to hear it so bad, then fine. i like you, and when i fell on you i was nervous that you would reject me like you did. there, are you happy now? kick me out, get rid of me, do what you wish. i can't live lying to myself anymore."

your energy fizzled out towards the end as you stood rigid, fists clenched. scaramouche slowly rose from the table, stalking towards you and gripping your chin. "how endearing." he cooed, pulling you towards him. he swiped a thumb over your bottom lip, shaking his head and muttering to himself.

he watched you rub your thighs together shyly, staring up at him surprised as he scoffed. "oh, please, if you want something from me, you'll have to ask me the correct way."

he was expecting something from you. but you struggled to produce as you suddenly grew meek. "scaramouche, i don't- i mean, i just..." you grew quiet, wishing desperately to bury your head in the sand as he frowned.

then it hit him.

"you've never done this before, have you?" he asked as you shook your head just twice, not wanting to stare up at him any longer. he sighed deeply, carefully taking one of your hands. "if i am to be the one to deflower you, i won't be cruel." he watched your anxiety slowly dissipate. "but that does not mean i will treat you like glass." he warned.

"i want you, scaramouche. can you please teach me?"

scaramouche seemed to be pleased by your soft voice, obliging and tugging you behind him towards his private quarters. his grip was tight, though not as much as what you assumed some of his subordinates felt when they disobeyed.

once he closed the door behind you, he tugged you towards the bed, urging you to sit down. "you do know how to please yourself, yes? i hear you every night. the walls are thin." your neck felt like it was on fire as you covered your cheeks.

"yes, i know how-"

"then we will start there. disrobe."

you followed his orders, carefully removing your clothing until you were left in the thin tank top and shorts beneath your robes. scaramouche narrowed his eyes.

"i said disrobe, not leave everything on."

"but..." you curled up on the bed as he sighed, standing up and removing his own clothes. "wait-" you squeaked, embarrassed as he went as far as his undergarments.

"my form has purpose, i am not ashamed of it. never show shame for your body, be grateful you have one." he huffed, adjusting his hair.

once you finally undressed, he adjusted you in his lap, spreading your legs and staring down at your most sensitive areas. he held up two fingers in front of your mouth expectantly, feeling you slowly part your lips as he shoved the digits past them.

he rubbed his fingers over your tongue, coating them in saliva until he deemed it fit, pulling them away and swiping them across your slit. you squirmed a bit, feeling him hold you steady as he worked you up.

you leaned against his shoulders as he tried to remember exactly how to pleasure a human being. it had been quite some time since he found himself in this predicament.

he opted to focus on stretching you out, collecting your slick and easing a finger into your hole. you gripped his wrist reflexively, eyes widening at the intrusion. "it feels weird."

he rolled his eyes. "it will be fine. just relax, don't tighten up so much. breathe." he warned you, feeling you try to lean back against him, keeping your legs spread as he allowed you to adjust to the digit inside of you before attempting to add another.

the second he started spreading his fingers out, you jumped, not used to the sensation. "stay still." he snapped, holding you down more firmly as he fucked his fingers into you.

he heard your whines increase in volume as he crooked his fingers, slightly changing the angle that they slid into you at. he could feel you trembling against his form, taking shaky breaths as he slid his thumb up to brush over your clit.

unintelligible mumbles fell from your lips as you plead for him to keep going, begging for more until he suddenly pulled away. your eyes filled with tears of frustration until he quieted you. "stop whining. this is supposed to be a humanly act of love, no? not just an outlet for release." he chastised as you pouted in his lap.

he rearranged your body, moving you to face him on his lap. he carefully removed his final piece of clothing, revealing himself to you and allowing his cock to bob up against his stomach. he stroked himself a few times using your residual wetness as a type of lubricant.

he picked you up with inhuman strength, hovering you over his dick as you shivered, feeling the head rub over your hole.

you bit your lip, nervous as he looked up at your glassy-eyed expression. "i won't lie to you, it will be uncomfortable. but as i said earlier, i am not cruel, nor am i ignorant. this is supposed to be done for human connection and pleasure."

and with that, he eased himself into you, groaning deeply as you gasped, fingers seeking purchase on his shoulders as you shivered. he filled you up perfectly, stretching you out and making you feel a fullness you never had before.

though you couldn't deny it was still painful, and it felt like you were ripping apart at the seams internally. you wanted equally to escape and chase the feeling, stuck in his iron grip.

as soon as he was seated entirely inside of you, he let you lean on his chest, smoothing his hand down your back. he shushed you, allowing you to adjust and relax. you were squeezing him so tightly, seemingly confused by the sensations as he sighed, pulling your chin up.

"i am sorry it hurts like this. i do not wish to taint your idea of sexual pleasure." scaramouche explained, gently placing his lips to your forehead, feeling you lean into him.

though he had seen you cry, experience defeat, be cut, bruised, scraped, sick to your stomach, and soaked in rain, he hadn't seen you this vulnerable before.

it almost reminded him of a certain someone many, many years ago.

"let me take care of you, just breathe."

[bluegalaxygirl]

One Piece Masterlist

Requests Open for Zosan, Zolu and Law- I don't do requests involving: NSFW (Smut), child/teen x character, domestic abuse in a relationship with the characters, couple fighting over reader (e.g sanji and zoro fight over reader) and Au's.

^ Clone wars + Bad batch Masterlist

^ Law Masterlist

^ KidKiller X Reader Masterlist

All straw hats + Law:

^ Caring for you - plot: Headcannons for how they would care for you before a procedure/surgery.

ZoLu X reader:

----------Headcanons -

^

^ Writer - Reader is a writer on the crew and loves books, but secretly writes romance.

^ Hugs and Kisses - Reader's the type to want hugs and Kisses at random times.

^ I want a baby - Reader tells the boys she wants a baby.

^ Morning Routine - What your morning are like.

^ Night Routine - What your nights are like from 6PM to 4AM

----------Stories -

^

^ Celestial wedding - P1 - P2 - P3 - P4 - P5 - P6 - P7 - P8 - P9 - P10 - P11 - P12 - P13 - P14 - P15 - P16 - P17 - P18 - Plot: Reader gets taken as revenge for Luffy and Zoro's defiance against the Celestial Dragons, they were just going to kill her to make an example but now theres a wedding????.

^ The Vault - P1 - P2 - Doctor who Crossover (On hiatus until life settle down) - Plot: The Doctor asks for your help when he finds out theres a base on earth holding alien tech and maybe some alive aliens. Luffy agrees before you do so you take some of the crew along to have a look but you don't reserve a warm welcome and this place seems to be hiding more than just normal aliens.

^ First Bath togeather - Plot: Your first bath with Zoro and Luffy gets you to open up about your past a bit.

^ A step too far - P1 - P2 - Plot: While enjoying a Night of music and relaxation in the aquarium bar a fight breaks out between Zoro and Sanji only this time its worse than ever.

^ Loyalty Test - Plot: Your sister isn't convinced that Zoro and Luffy wont be loyal to you so sets them up to be flirted with while she makes you watch form a back room.

^ Trouble Makers P1 - P2 - P3 - Plot: The new island you docked on seems peaceful until a strange rumble catches you all off guard.

ZoSan X reader:

----------Headcanons -

^

^ Little maker - Zosan with a reader that makes things for them and the crew.

^ Nightmares - How Zoro, Sanji and Reader help each other with nightmares, how they deal with it themselves and what they have nightmares about.

^ The Spicy Book - Zoro and Sanji find you reading a spicy book. Contains sexual content but no smut.

^ How it happened - How you, Sanji and Zoro got togeather.

^ Morning Routine - What your mornings are like.

^ Night Routine - What your nights are like from 6PM to 4AM

^ Annoying things you all do - All couples have things they don't like about each other but you put up with them because you love them. here are some things that you find annoying about each other.

^ The little things - Just some cute little things the three of you do togeather and how you interact with each other. Also threw in how the crew see's you three.

^ Homesick - Your feeling home sick so this is how Sanji, Zoro and the crew help you

^ Kleptomaniac - Zoro and Sanji with a kleptomaniac Partner.

----------Stories -

^

^ Obsession's Grip - P1 - P2 - P3 - P4 - P5 - P6 - P7 - P8 - P9 - P10 - P11 - P12 - P13 - P14 - Plot: After saving some of the straw hat crew from a prison, the crew help takes a young man away so he can have a fresh start in life. He's shy but seems to grow attached to Reader in an unhealthy way.

^ Wild Flower - P1 - P2 - P3 - P4 - P5 - P6 - P7 - P8 - Bonus- Plot: While doing recon for the crew, reader's snake gets captured by a marine who knows more about her than her own crew but to make matters worse he can hurt reader through her Snake using some strange powers and deadly plants.

^ Hot-spring - Plot: Just the crew relaxing for a week at an exclusive winter resort.

^ New bounties - Plot: After Wano you all find out what your new bounties are.

^ Fear of abandonment - Plot: the fear of abandonment hits you hard and now you just want to leave before your friends and the people you love leave you.

^ Old Friends - P1 - P2 - P3 - P4 - P5 - P6 - P7 - P8 - P9 - P10 - P11 - P12 - P13 - P14 - P15 - Plot: Reader is the 9th doctors old assistant but soon moved on to other things, joining the straw hat pirates and falling in love but now their paths cross again (only he has a new face) when they go to see an old friend in a strange hospital. Unfortunately there's some one else there that wants to start trouble.

^ You get sick - Plot: Zoro hides being sick which causes you to get sick, not only do you have to deal with the symptoms but your ability to control the tattooed snakes on your arms makes things worse.

^ I love you - Plot: the first time you say I love you to each other

^ Your First time - NSFW Minors DO NOT read

^ Distraction - Plot: its your's and nami's job to distract some pirates in a night club while the rest of the crew steal from their ship. Theirs only one problem, those pirates get a little too handy. Basically you being super sexy in front of them

^ First Bath togeather - Plot: After being togeather for a long time the boys have never taken a bath or a shower with you. You work up the courage to join them but try to hid the scars of your past.

^ You and your wild plans - Plot:. Zoro refuses to dance even when Luffy try's his best to make it happen, so you hatch a plan to make him dance.

^ Don't get lost - P1 - P2 -plot: Zoro gets lost and its up to sanji and reader to find him and bring him back but there's one problem.

---------- Series masterlist links

^ Baby series

^ Halloween series