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theonewiththefanfics · 5 months

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Seal It With a Kiss (one-shot)

Synopsys: After a looting session goes wrong, Astarion and Reader have to face the music and confront their feelings. Whatever they might be.

Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings: talks of blood, injuries, swearing, mentions of abuse, but nothing explicit

Word count: 3234

A/N: I have not played Baldur's Gate 3 (I don't own a PS or a PC where to play it. all of this is based on the info gathered online and through Neil's own gameplay etc. Please be kind :) )

The light was too bright. And the ground was too hard. And the pillow too tough and lumpy. And why did Y/N feel so hot when it was literally snowing? And, actually, when had it started snowing? From bright blue skies, might she add?

Slowly, haziness dissipated from her eyes, and the world around came into sharp, painful focus. The light was too bright because half of her surroundings were on literal fire. The ground was too hard because she was half on rubble that once was a palace roof, and the tough, lumpy pillow was a rock her head had smashed against, while the snow was ashes flowing down, covering everything, including her, in a grey layer of soot, the sky peeking in from the hole above.

Although her sight was clearing, a sharp ringing pierced her ears. Or was it shouting?

A shadow crossed the sky, and above her, she could see their resident vampiric elf’s mouth moving.

“ – were you thinking?!” Finally, her ears started to clear as well. “You absolute imbecile! Why would you do that?!”

Y/N just groaned in response, as her memories came back in quick flashes. Everyone was arguing about where they should look for another magical artefact, Astarion shooting down what Gale had proposed, Wyll trying to make a sensible plan while Lae’Zel interrupted Shadowheart at any given moment. A deep rumble from the depths of the abandoned palace they were in silenced them all, Karlach throwing them a worried expression. And then the whole building exploded.

On instinct, Y/N had pushed Astarion as far away as she could before the ceiling came crashing down on top of her. It was nothing short of a miracle, she had managed to survive. Bruised, battered, no doubt with broken bones, but alive nonetheless. Maybe she’d have to thank a goddess or two. That was if Astarion didn’t rip her to pieces beforehand with how furious he looked.

Slowly Y/N tried to lift herself onto her forearms, and for all his admonishments, Astarion was quick to crouch down and help her, putting his arms under her pits and letting her rest against his chest.

“Oh dear,” she mumbled, noticing a large bannister lying across her leg. “That’s not good.”

“Not good?!” Astarion practically shrieked, his hands tightening around her ribs. “How hard did you hit your fucking head? This is so beyond not good I can’t even think of a level!”

Y/N winced at his tone. “Can you stop shouting, please? Gods, my head is splitting.”

“Oh, is it now? It would be quite the fucking miracle if it wasn’t, seeing as a whole fucking palace just toppled on you!”

“Quit being so dramatic and help get that thing off me! Where’re the rest?”

“Frankly, I don’t fucking care right now!” Astarion gently laid Y/N back down and went to the large boulder.

His arms strained as he lifted the piece of the pillar, her eyes widening at the display of strength.

She sometimes forgot how strong Astarion actually was, how easily he could snap her neck with just a twist of his hands if he so wished while Y/N allowed him to drink from her. But he was always gentle instead, with how he held her nape, fingers soothingly pressing into her scalp and knuckles brushing against her collarbones once he was done in a sweet gesture of thanks.

As quickly as she could, Y/N scooted from under the rubble, Astarion dropping the boulder back unceremoniously, and he was back by her side in a second, an arm wrapping around her waist, so she could lean on him.

“We have to find the others,” Y/N hissed as she stood. Her whole body screamed in pain, but they had to get out of the now-ruined palace, lest another explosion happen.

“They can find their own way out,” Astarion grunted, as he led them towards the exit.

“Astarion!”

“No!” He snapped his head to look at Y/N, and his scarlet eyes held such a desperate gaze in them, that she pinched her lips shut. “I will knock you out if I have to. I am not letting you get hurt again.”

“Astarion, they’re our friends,” Y/N’s voice was gentle. “We have to help them if we can.”

For a moment, Astarion truly looked like he might just throw her over his shoulder and march out of the place. But then he sighed, hanging his head in defeat before looking at her with pain distorting his features. “Why do you always have to be so good?”

Something tugged at her heart. That expression on his face, as if it physically put him in agony to lead them around the ruined palace in search of their companions, as he flinched and tightened his hold on her whenever something crackled, ready to throw his own body atop hers, in case something happened. It wasn’t selfishness, not one bit. Something deeper lay beneath Astarion’s reluctance.

It took them a while to find their party, but luckily no one was injured, and Y/N was the worst one off. Shadowheart was by her side in an instant, giving her a healing potion.

“Should keep you set until we get back to camp.” She patted her shoulder. “I’ll heal you fully once we’re out of immediate danger.”

“Thank you.” Y/N smiled at the cleric.

She was just about to ask Astarion whether he was alright, but the vampire had already detached himself and was glaring at the ground, arms crossed over his chest ten feet away from her.

Y/N couldn’t deny – it stung. He’d been so worried just a few moments ago, yet now he couldn’t even look at her?

Her feet worked on their own accord, moving in his direction, but the way he turned his back to her, told her all she needed to know – he didn’t want to talk.

Pain shot through her heart, and it was definitely not because of the explosion, but Y/N respected his privacy, so she didn’t approach him any further, even though they always, always, walked next to one another.

“We should head back,” she spoke up, eyes remaining on Astarion’s taut back. “Maybe get some rest as well. We still have tomorrow anyway to search this place.”

When Astarion left the palace without even waiting to see if anyone was following, Y/N could do nothing but sigh and depart as well.

The walk to where they’d set up their camp was uncharacteristically quiet, especially from the pale elf’s side. He’d usually fill their travels with mindless talk and sarcastic quips, but this time around, he hung towards the back of their group and was as mum as a grave. He didn’t even comment on whatever Gale was saying, which made Y/N all the more uneasy.

She couldn’t wrap her mind around why he’d become so distant all of a sudden. What’d happened at the palace was nothing unusual. They risked their lives on the daily, saving others and themselves, so why in the world was Astarion so pissed about this, she had no clue.

Karlach leaned to the side, watching as the vampire entered his tent, closing the laces immediately. “Fangs is quite in a bad mood. Anything we should know about, soldier?”

Y/N huffed. “Probably broke a nail or something. In any case – nothing important enough to be acting the way he is.”

“Maybe I should go and – “

She put a palm on Karlach’s shoulder, stopping her, and giving her friend a wry smile. “I’ll talk to him. Better he’s angry at me and only me, not someone else as well. Apparently, I’ve pissed him off as is.”

“You sure?” the tiefling asked.

“Yeah.” Y/N nodded. “I think we need to have a talk anyway.”

With a “good luck” from Karlach, she sighed and steeled herself against whatever the vampire would throw her way. She unlaced the ties and lifted the flap to the side. With crossed arms, she entered Astarion’s tent, only to be greeted by his back as he stubbornly kept looking at a book in his hands, not even acknowledging her.

“Are you seriously pouting right now?” Y/N asked after a minute of silence.

“I’m not pouting, I’m brooding. There’s a difference.”

“Well, does brooding involve giving the silent treatment, or can we talk?”

Astarion threw a withering gaze over his shoulder. “What is there you want to talk about? Unless it’s an apology, I don’t want to hear it.”

Y/N let out an exasperated huff. “I’m sorry to disappoint, but I won’t apologise for saving your life.”

“By putting your own life in danger?!” Astarion spun around, throwing the tome he’d been holding onto his bedroll.

“Comes with the territory.” She shrugged. “You should know how it is.”

“Letting a whole building collapse on top of you is very different to knocking a blade out of the way!”

“Why are you so angry with me?” Y/N raised her voice, matching Astarion’s furious tone. “I saved your life!

“I didn’t ask for you to!”

She let out a disbelieving scoff. “Well, sucks to be you then! Because I was not just going to let you get crushed underneath all that rubble! Your life is just as important as everyone else’s!”

“Not to me! Not when it comes to you!”

Now that shut her up completely, her lips pinched in a thin line, eyes wide in shock. She and Astarion were friends, at least Y/N would've liked to think so. She most definitely had developed deeper feelings than that, but would only admit to it over her own dead body. The thought of Astarion’s rejection made her want to crumple into a small heap, but his reaction put thoughts in her head that maybe, just maybe, her feelings weren’t one-sided.

“What do you suppose I would do if you – if – if,” he stumbled on his words. “If I had to go on without you? If you were no longer with us… with me…”

“Astarion…”

“Do you understand how it felt to see you go down?” He sighed, hanging his head. “When I saw the roof caving in and then felt you push me away before you vanished beneath rubble and dust and ash… I’ve never been more terrified in all of my life, two hundred years of which were spent under the rule of an absolute sadist, where horrors awaited around every corner.”

His eyes bore nothing but pain and despair he’d felt in that moment. “I heard everyone else screaming - Shadowheart calling out, Wyll and Karlach making sure Gale and Lae’Zel were alright but nothing… not a single whisper from your voice. You tell me I’m pouting, but all I can see when I close my eyes is you… how you would look… dead. Your eyes closed forever, your blood spilling out of your body and I… I have to stand and watch as I am unable to save you.

“But I’m alright.” Y/N stepped up to him, taking one of his palms in hers, and squeezing it. “Astarion, I’m alive, and I’m fine.”

“But you almost weren’t!” he hissed, pulling her closer, bringing their clasped hands to rest against his chest. “And all I would have been left to do was wait for the dust to settle and dig out your broken body. You would have condemned me to eternity without you… I just almost lost the person I love... and that fear is something I never wish to experience again.”

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat at such an honest confession. “I umm I didn’t know you felt that way about me.” Friendship was one thing, but love? That threw her completely off balance.

“Feel? Felt? What does it matter anymore? Clearly, it’s not like it’s reciprocated.” He scoffed, back the mask of bravado and not caring, but Y/N wasn’t having any of it.

“It matters to me.” Her brows furrowed. “It matters a great deal to me. Why do you think I did what I did, exactly? Because it’s fun? Because I enjoy blocks of buildings dropping down on me? Because it’s such an absolute delight to realise - if I don’t push you out of the way, you will be in direct line of fire, and I might lose you?”

Astarion’s mouth opened and closed. “I didn’t – I –“

“No!” Y/N pointed an accusatory finger at him. Now she was angry. “You don’t get to play the "I'm in love with you" card and be angry with me. Not if you dare tell me how I feel without asking first!”

“You...” He shook his head, a crease to his brow. “You never indicated you held anything more than… friendly affections towards me.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Yes, because I let everyone in this party use me as their personal snack each night. I’d say that should’ve been your first clue.”

“I’d say you’re a full-course meal, my darling, but I understand the sentiment.” And though back was his usual air of sarcasm, a deep vulnerability could be seen shining in his crimson eyes as he weaved a gentle hand to wrap around the small of her waist, brushing underneath her sleep tunic to rest against her skin.

Cold met warm, and Y/N gasped as a shiver ran down her spine. His slender fingers dug into her back as he pulled Y/N closer, their breaths mingling, and if they only moved just a couple of centimetres, lips would touch.

“I just – I cannot stand and watch you throw your life away for someone like me. The thought of your brightness being extinguished because of it… I couldn’t bear it.”

Y/N tilted her head to the side. “Someone like who exactly? Someone who I’ve grown to look at as my dearest confidant? Someone who I know will always tell me the truth and be there if I cannot handle it? Or someone who so deftly has stolen my heart, he cannot even comprehend it’s been his the whole time? Besides, even if it wasn’t reciprocated...” She played with the string of his shirt, “you can’t tell me to be more careful, to not save you when you do the exact same thing.”

“How can I not?” Astarion’s voice was uncharacteristically soft, and for once, he seemed to want the moment to reflect what truly lay in his soul. “You make my heart beat on its own. If I had to give up walking in the sun for the rest of my life, I would. As long as it meant you were safe and happy. I’d even gladly go back to Cazador if you were on the line. Without a second to spare.”

“Don’t you dare fucking say that!"

“But it’s true.”

“Not if I can help it,” Y/N grumbled, tightening her hold on his shirt by his hips, pulling him closer like she had to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere. “He’s not ever going to get near you. I’ll level the whole of Baldur’s Gate if I have to.”

“And I am being honest when I say, if I had to choose between you being unhurt or me being imprisoned, being used as I was, I would always put you first.”

Y/N was on the verge of tears. “You listen to me you pompous blood-sucking elf – you will do no such thing. Whatever comes, we both will get through it. And Cazador will have his head ripped from his shoulders, but not before I gouge his eyes out, and do every single vile thing he did to you back onto him. I will skin him alive and then throw him in a tomb with nothing but cockroaches. Let him drink his own blood and see how he likes it.” She shuddered, taking in a deep breath. “Your life is not worth less than mine. Don’t you ever dare think that way.”

A watery chuckle escaped Astarion, and his eyes brimmed with silvery tears. “Can I kiss you?” He didn’t dare lift his gaze, focusing on their intertwined fingers, resting against where his heart no doubt would have been rattling a crazy rhythm if it still beat.

“If you want to.” Y/N’s reply was as quiet as his question had been, but there was no teasing in her tone.

His eyes flashed for a second, but she didn’t get a full grasp on what it was she saw. Maybe surprise. Maybe gratitude? She couldn’t tell really, all she knew was that the emotion caused a pang to ring to her very core. She’d kill Cazador with her own bloody hands.

“I want it.” He nodded. “More than anything.”

“More than my blood? That first night you almost drained me dry,” Y/N’s words, though true, held no malice, only gentle teasing.

“And how do you know that first time I wasn’t trying to wake up the sleeping princess with a magical true love’s kiss? The feeding just ended up being a bonus.” He brushed her nose with his, and couldn’t help the way his own lips turned up as Y/N smiled.

“Well, this sleeping princess would’ve punched you in the nose, had you awoken her for such silly things. Besides, you did miss my lips.”

Astarion chuckled, relishing the way her body pressed against his. “But I am allowed to awaken you to drink from you?”

“Well...” She nudged his nose with hers now. “Seeing as you become absolutely unbearable when hungry, I think for my own peace and everyone else’s, that does count as a vital reason to rouse me."

Gentle hands cupped her cheeks. “Allow me to demonstrate then how vital a kiss can be to one’s survival.”

And then their lips met.

She’d never admit it out loud, for his ego would surely grow larger than it already was, but it did feel like a magical kiss of life. Her whole body sang as his fingers slid against the nape of her neck, pulling her closer, almost like Astarion was afraid she’d pull back, but she could never. Not when he slipped his tongue past her lips, and her knees almost crumbled.

Y/N had to tighten her hold on his waist to not completely lose it, and she could feel the smirk growing on the vampire’s face, as he realised just how incapacitated his kiss had made her. He nipped at the bottom of her lip and relished in the small whimper he got to devour.

After what felt like ages, they pulled back, panting, but not going too far as Astarion rested his forehead against hers.

Y/N smiled. “True love’s kiss you say?”

“It feels like it,” he mumbled, allowing himself to indulge in the tender touch of her fingers skimming up and down his back. “Though I don’t know much about… love… I’d like to experience it with you. All of it. The good and the bad that might come with it.”

“I’ll be here,” Y/N promised. “As long as you want me to, I’m not going anywhere.”

“And if I ask for forever?”

She let out an over-exaggerated, dramatic sigh. “Forever’s quite a long time, don’t you think?”

“Not long enough,” Astarion replied, a smile tugging up his lips. “It’d never be long enough with you.”

Y/N quirked a brow. “Is that a challenge?”

He chuckled at that. “I’d say it’s more of a promise, if anything.”

“Seal it with a kiss?”

“Deal, my love.”

Tags:

Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue @im-squished @strangersstranger

Astarion tags: @spacebarbarianweird

A/N: my tags are always open, so just drop a message if you want to be tagged :)

P.S. do not plagiarise my work or repost it on other platforms!!!

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koobratzy · 3 months

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The Jewel of the North

Just a little fanfic idea I had. No one writes for Cregan, so now I take it upon myself to deliver what we've all been waiting for. Let me know what you think, and please reblog if you like what I wrote so far. It will help me reach a bigger audience <3 I love you all. Remember to take care of yourself!

Y/N Valaryon always knew she was a bastard. Her silver hair and violet eyes protected her from such rumors, making the court believe that she was the only trueborn child of Leanor, but she knew the truth. She was as much out of wedlock as her younger brothers.

The princess could see how Daemon Targaryen looked at her. He tried to be discreet, but his eyes always followed her like a shadow, no matter where she went. The prince was like a ghost. Hovering over her at all times but invisible to the naked eye. When Y/N managed to catch his gaze, there was longing inside. Desire to be near, to show his devotion for what it was. Love for his firstborn child. But he couldn't openly do that. The court was too watchful of Rhaenyra anyway, even without his involvement in the young princess's life.

Her own personality convinced her even further. She was full of fire. The veins inside her body transported heat with every breath, her heart burning with so much anger that even the princess got scared sometimes. From a young age, Y/N trained with a sword, just like her brothers did, and the abilities she presented could put many young lordlings to shame. It only became more apparent when the dragonless princess was found by Cannibal. Rhaenyra was terrified, her only daughter standing so close to the ferocious beast capable of swallowing her whole. And yet, it never happened. The dangerous monstrosity picked her. Of all dragons, she was chosen by him. The only beast that could match her inner flame and rage.

Young Valaryon knew that she was his. They could pretend all they wanted, but she knew the truth.

When Laenor Valaryon died, the curtains of the theatre of life they played so long finally fell, and Daemon got what he always wanted. His firstborn daughter. He could finally be the father he always wanted to be and help her reach full potential. Show not only how to control her rage but also how to use it to achieve whatever she dreamed of. His daughter would always be protected, either by him or her own strength.

Their life on Dragonstone was perfect. Cheerful, free of any worries, luxurious. Peaceful without the constant unsettling presence of her uncles. But dark clouds were gathering over the clear skies. A storm more dangerous than any in history was coming way quicker than anyone expected, and it was ready to devour House Targaryen with its jaws, throwing the realm into chaos.

What will become of Y/N's life? Will her entire world burn? Or is a bit of ice and snow enough to extinguish it before it turns into ashes?

#house of the dragon #cregan stark x reader #cregan x reader #cregan stark #cregan x you #cregan fanfiction #targaryen reader

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sexlapis · 4 months

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# a snowy morning .·

𝗓𝖹𝗓 🦌 ⎯⎯ &. ♥︎

❤︎ toji x gn!reader

sfw, fluff, christmas season, petnames (‘kid’, ‘sweetie’), playing in the snow, old man toji, he’s a tiny bit mean but … <3

wc: 1.9k

a/n: just wanted some toji winter fluff…<3 merry christmas everyone ᒄ₍⁽ˆ⁰ˆ⁾₎ᒃ♪♬

masterlists

toji awakens with a startle at your shout, shooting up and out of bed, swiping his handgun from his bedside drawer and stumbling to where you stand, looking out of the bedroom window.

life away from the city was all toji wanted, along with peace and quiet, which is why you and toji live just on the outskirts of the woods, where your only neighbours are the wild animals that roam the surrounding forest.

and toji likes it that way; no annoying neighbours, no noisy cars, no air pollution and clear, vibrant skies where you can actually see the fucking stars when you look up.

but with you around…peace and quiet are nothing but foreign concepts.

“toji, look!” you exclaim. “it’s snowing! it’s- toji put that away.” you frown at him, referring to his gun.

“what’s with all that yelling?” he grunts, lowering his weapon and instead unsafely using it to scratch his back.

“it’s snowing! it must’ve started when we slept!”

toji huffs, his heart slowing down a little in relief. “alright, let’s jus’-”

“it’s so deep too. and it looks so soft. i’m going outside!”

after your sporadic ramble, you’re flinging out of your pyjamas and into thicker, warmer clothes.

“it’s six in the morning.” toji deadpans, blinking away the sleep in his eyes and ruffled by you shocking him awake.

you were always so spontaneous with your plans, he could hardly keep up with them.

“no! it could be melted by then,” you claim, throwing a large, cream-coloured sweater over your head, “put your clothes on, you're coming with me.”

“now why am i involved?” he asks, rhetorically of course, since he’s already heading to his wardrobe and picking out a black fleece along with a long sleeved shirt.

he should really stand his ground more, show you who’s in charge and who makes the rules around here. after all, it is his house.

but when you look at him so expectantly, hoping for him to agree, he knew that he would only comply with your wishes.

and you know that too.

“someone needs to help me build the snowman!”

minutes later, you’re skipping in the sparse forest behind the house, travelling through crunchy snow to the best of your abilities, leaving uneven footprints in your path as toji trails behind you, chiding you to slow down.

frosty, crisp air bites at your exposed face, sure to ache when you get back inside to the warmth. the wintry sky is painted in a pale periwinkle, cloudless and plain lest for the faded crescent moon that follows you on your merry way.

you leave the forest and you are welcomed to the wide, vast and picturesque landscape of the field you and toji commonly frequent. said field is completely blanketed in a white sheet of pure snow, going on for miles and miles, glittering in the morning glow.

“kid, what’d i say.” toji huffs, coming to stand beside you with a hand supporting his back, a little out of breath. “what a view, huh?”

“mhm!” you agree and then you’re plopping right down into the snow, repeatedly spread and closing your arms and legs, more strenuous than you expected, “come make a snow angel, toji! next to me. not too close though or you’ll mess mine up.”

toji sighs, mostly fond, breath leaving his nose and he clambers onto the snowy ground with his knees cracking, something you then proceed to make fun of him for and he flicks snow at you.

“toji, that got in my mouth!” you sputter and spit, glaring at a flailing toji who attempts to make a snow angel. his long, big limbs make the movement look heavy and odd, causing you to snort in his face.

“what’re you laughin’ at?” he grunts, his expression determined like he’s in a competition to make the greatest snow angel of all time. snow splatters all around him from his brash actions.

he looks so cute like this, you think. rosy cheeks, the sweet dimple on his left cheek that appears when he grins, the wrinkles around his eyes crinkled even more as he smiles and entertains you.

“okay, that’s enough!” you stand, brushing the snow away from your body, “get up. i wanna see what they look like.”

toji sticks his hand out, “‘right, help me up.”

“oh toji..” you mutter in faux annoyance before you clasp both of your gloved hands around his one, groaning with the struggle of lifting him up.

“i’m not that heavy, sweetie,” huffs toji, clapping his covered hands, causing snow to powder all around him, “okay, what’d you think?”

you both observe at the snow angels created by your bodies. they are…simply a mess and bundle of piled up mess, shapeless silhouettes dented into the snow, the size difference between them almost comical.

“…yeah it’s looks great ♡,” you smile, looking to toji who nods in agreement, clearly pleased with himself.

“okay! toji you make the body and i’ll do the head!” you call out to him from a distance after playing and prancing around in the know. you’ve already begun rolling out a small ball of firm snow along the ground.

meanwhile, toji’s snowball is already up to his knee. he shuffles and rolls his huge globe of snow around the field, leaving swirls and spirals in the sheet of snow behind him.

“how is yours so big already?!” you screech, glancing down at your pitiful snow ball, “we just started!”

“‘cos while i was getting down to business you were doin’ backflips in the fuckin’ snow.”

“hey!” beyond your better judgement, you launch the ball of snow right at toji, striking him square in the chest.

a quiet “ufff” leaves toji’s mouth and he peers at his once black winter coat that is now splattered in snow. then, he slowly raises his head back to you, a malicious glint in his eyes.

“ohhh, you really shouldn’t ‘a done that, kid…”

toji’s lifts what is supposed to be the body of the snowman and stalks towards you in swift strides. you scream, already on your feet and dashing away downhill, squealing and cackling as toji runs after you with the giant snowball in his arms, a sight that would be absurd to onlookers if there were any.

your foot slides off the floor and up into the air, landing on your back onto the pillow of snow, leaving you completely at toji’s mercy.

it took a mere four or five steps for him to keep up with you. quite sad on your part, really.

toji’s looms over you, a wicked grin on his lips as he holds the large snowball in his hands, “i hate to have ’ta do this but…”

“toji, please! have mercy-”

but your words fall on deaf ears. toji’s raises the vast ball of snow, creating a shadow over your vision, and your eyes are bulging, your stomach dropping slightly as he promptly drops the snow onto your awaiting body.

you gasp. luckily, your winter coat protected you from the bite of the snow, the clothing now caked with snow.

toji pats his hand for good measure right over your body, sprinkling snow on your face.

“how’s that, huh?” he smirks before noticing how you’re covering your face with the back of your hands, your shoulders shaking slightly.

shit.

“shit,” he crouched down and going to comfort you, thinking he took this game a little too far, “kid, you okay? ‘m sorry-”

a snowball is smashed into the side of his face.

“ha!” your giggles fill the bitter air and you shove him into the snow, jumping up and scurrying off, “got youuuuuuu!”

“oh, you fucking-” toji springs to his feet, shaking the snow his face, the area now red and flushed, “yeah, you better run!”

you and toji chase each other through the snow, launching snowballs at each other, noses rosy and cheeks aching from smiles and laughter, breaths heaving and hearts running as you both reveal in this newfound peace and joy.

playful, free and happy.

toji tackles you, cupping the back of your head as you fall to the ground softly.

he hovers over you. the hat that previously covered his head is long gone, most likely buried within the surrounding snow. his raven locks point in all directions and droplets of snow seasoned in his hair. tender, rounded eyes decorated with fluttering, thick lashes study you adoringly and you feel like hiding your face as your heart bursts in your chest.

you bite your lip and say, “i think i won.”

“yeah, sure you did.” toji rolls his eyes, shaking his head and kissing your nose, “c’mon, let’s go. it’s just gonna get colder, anyway.”

“i wanted to go ice skating on the lake, though…”

toji rises to his knees, lifting you up with him. he sweeps the snow from your hair and scans your body, his actions instinctual at this point, “yeah, yeah, we’ll go tomorrow, promise.”

you seem satisfied with his answer, allowing him to stand you up.

“i want a piggyback ride, please” you beam at him, and…toji is a weak man. only for you.

seconds later, he is letting you mount him like a horse and he begins the journey back to the cosy home you both created for yourselves.

toji’s large, strong stature makes you feel safe, protected. it always has. and with the smoothness of his steps, you find drifting off into a momentary rest against his broad shoulders.

the next time you come to, you’re on the couch of your living room, the fireplace crackling and illuminating the dim room. a fluffy, lengthy blanket protects you from the slight chill in the air which is also permeated with the scent of chocolate. you blink, licking your lips and yawning. you are by yourself, you note as you stretch and sit up on your knees.

shortly after that thought, toji walks in, holding two mugs of what you presume to be hot coco.

“hey, sweetie,” he coos, wishing to keep the quiet atmosphere, “got ya some hot coco,” he hands you the cup, placing his own on the coffee table and taking a seat right next to you, “‘fell asleep on the way back. musta been tired from waking up at ass ‘o clock, huh?”

you pout, gulping some of the chocolatey beverage which has your mouth hot and warming up your insides. you stick your tongue out at him, feeling too drowsy to even refute his snipe.

toji huffs, grinning softly. he licks his thumb and wipes the corner of your mouth to get rid of a chocolate stain.

“ugh, toji.” you grunt, “gross.”

“c’mon i've done worse than that.”

you grumble, sipping on your hot drink and ignoring his short chuckles.

he shifts closer to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, “c’mere.”

toji is so big and so warm and so soft and just so tender. you’re dropping your mug next to toji’s and snuggling up right beside him, also wrapping your arms around his waist, your cheek pressed up against his firm chest. it’s the perfect fit and you’ve never felt so content.

“hmm..think i’m gonna fall asleep again…”

“that's alright, baby.” toji hums, kissing the top of your head and smoothing your hair down. he loved the feeling of you in his arms, it made him feel like the protector that he is at his core, something he’d forgotten so much about - the true nature of himself.

“go to sleep,” and you are already passed out, fast asleep on toji’s firm body. he nuzzles against the top of your head and closes his eyes, breathing you in and holding you close.

he can stay here, with you in his arms, far away from the rest of the world, forever.

a/n: have a very merry christmas everyone! please make sure to rest and stay healthy ^_^🎄💚❤️

#ily winter toji #toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji x self insert #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x y/n #toji fushiguro fluff #fushiguro toji x reader #fushiguro toji x you #fushiguro toji fluff #toji zenin x reader #toji zenin x you #toji fluff #fushiguro fluff #f

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willownwisp · 3 months

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ree's leon valentine's day advent <3

hi everyone. <3 as the leon kennedy fluff truther, i'm making an advent for valentine's day because pookie deserves so much love! everyday, i'll be posting a fic ranging from nsfw/sfw fluff for babu leon, i'll be putting out the scenarios and snippets below if y'all are interested. author's note: i've been meaning to put this out like a week ago when i finally figured out the problem w my account as to why tumblr wasn't letting me reply to comments :( but sadly, college got me so head empty. anyway, i've already got 2 days worth of fics already finished so i hope y'all can give me a read. <3

FEBRUARY 8 𖹭 nice legs, daisy dukes. (vendetta!leon x fem!reader) Leon feels like a creep, fuck that. He definitely looks like a creep. Thirty-six year old in all of his 5'11 glory standing outside his girlfriend's college leant against his Ducati like a dick, carrying a box of those, instagrammable pastries you always like to look at. It doesn't hurt to be sweet. Not when you walk — run, at the sight of him in your preppy mini dress, highlighting those long, long legs. Nothing is sweeter, especially when it's wrapped around him.

FEBRUARY 9 𖹭 starry skies, blue eyes. (re4r!leon x fem!reader) Stars dot stygian skies, the night is young, the moon is high. Leon's heart soars with your every laughter. The way your eyes close and your nose scrunches. God he was so in love with you, he could forgive the fact that the tent should have been up hours ago before night. You swear you remember your knots from your wide-eyed Girl Scout days, and he swears these silly moments with you are what makes life bearable.

FEBRUARY 10 𖹭 cold woes. (re4r!leon x fem!reader) Leon S. Kennedy. The apple of his instructors' eyes (and yours), he's a top graduate in the Police Academy for fuck's sake. He's decimated hordes of zombies in his first day as a rookie cop. Endured military training in the middle of nowhere, he's saved the President's daughter. He doesn't get sick. Only that he does catch a cold at the expense of prioritizing you, his clumsy girlfriend, who forgot to wear a jacket on a camping trip, offering his warm clothes to you. He doesn't regret it, he likes taking care of you, but there's something adorable about your sheepish apologies as you wait on him. He could get used to being babied. FEBRUARY 11 𖹭 love on me. (di!leon x fem!reader) As much as Leon loves the sun, the beaches, the tropics. Oh what he would give to become a beach bum in his next life instead of being smacked by bioweapons day in, night out, and being a good bitch to good ol' U.S of A. Unfortunately, after the events of Alcatraz, maybe he's had enough of the sea for now. He gives himself a pat on the back, takes out a chunk of his savings to go to Japan because you've been eyeing it. You said you were interested in the food, culture, and sights. So why in the world were you dragging him to a love hotel? FEBRUARY 12 𖹭 fill up your cup. (re6!leon x fem!reader) He feels himself spiraling recently, turning to the bottle because a glass is never troubled by his woes. He breaks them of course, can't help it, seems like his life is doomed to him breaking in the end. Fragments of glass scatters on the floor, vodka spills on the floor splashes it around like his grief because his body can only take so much. You arrive as he tries to pick them up, attempts to pick himself up. You whisper assurance, he doesn't deserve it. The way you look at him ardently, the gentleness that is your existence. You empty out his pain, and fill it with love. FEBRUARY 13 𖹭 the thrill, the love. (damnation!leon x fem!reader) He wills his old Yamaha to go faster. Your dainty arms clinging to him, the softness of your touch as his speed breaks the sound barrier. What started as mere curiosity turns into rituals. Secrets that only the both of you know. He knocks on your door at midnight, drives you around town. He scolds you every time your arm breaks free, throwing them to the wind. You don't care, you love the thrill, you love him. Leon admits that there is something alluring to the thrill of the chase. Perhaps that's why he's spent his years chasing Ada, but with you it was different. FEBRUARY 14 𖹭 kiss it better. (di!leon x fem!reader) Leon is a man full of stories, his pain, his peace, his fears, his needs. There is more to him than just being a formidable weapon against bioterrorism. He never was a weapon, just a flesh and blood human, and in his mortality there are scars. Deep within him, and littered in his skin. You kiss the faded slash on his hand, he tells you how he'd got it from when Ashley Graham had tried to stab him under the influence of the plaga. You kiss it again, and what he doesn't tell you is the wave of warmth that washes his entire being, it tugs on his very soul. You kiss the scars because it's there, because it's him, and in his reverie, he thinks you truly are his person.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon x reader #leon x you #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy fluff #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you

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youkissedareaderinthedark · 10 months

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Dear Spa

Synopsis: The Belgian Grand Prix haunts the grid once again

young female mercedes driver reader x F1 2023 grid

(george is on williams with alex, logan is the reserve driver)

We can’t remember “before you”

“Hi!” You grinned into the microphone when an interviewer called you over, to stand beside your teammate, Lewis. “Hi Y/n” He pulled you into a side hug. “Y/n, Mercedes have been looking fast so far, what can we expect from you two today?”

“Well, we hope to get onto the podium, and if not that, then just into the top 5 would be nice”

“And Lewis, what are your expectations for the cars today?”

“I mean, as Y/n said, we’re looking for the car to be in the top 5 at least. We’ve all been working hard in the garage and at the factory and we can only hope it pays off”

“Okay, thank you two, good luck today” The interview said as you two walked away and into the paddock.

2023 was your first year driving for Mercedes, although your third year in Formula 1. Toto Wolff had recruited you from Alpine in the middle of 2022 and had signed you for four years to drive alongside Lewis Hamilton. Seeing as you were much younger than him, you had developed a mentor-mentee relationship with the British man, and he became one of your closest friends on the grid. He gives you advice whenever he can and defends you when the racing world becomes too critical of you.

Right as you were walking through the paddock, you feel two arms wrap around your shoulders. “Hola” “Bonjour” Two accented voices say. “Hey guys, you ready for the race?” You grin at Charles and Carlos as you throw your arms around their shoulders.

“Yes, I can’t wait to be ran off the track again” Charles teases.

Two weeks ago, you ran his Ferrari off the track without even realizing it when he was trying to overtake you. He’s not mad since he ended that race in P3, but he still doesn’t miss an opportunity to tease you about it.

“That was two weeks ago, Chuck. Forgive and forget” You reply

“Don’t worry Y/n, I’ll just wave when I pass you” The Spainard says.

“And are you going to impede me if you do?”

“If I feel like it” He smiles. You laugh “I’ll see you guys later, good luck” You call as they walk towards the Ferrari garage.

You see George, Alex, and Lando together next. “Hey guys” You smiled as you brought each of them into a side hug. “Y/n, so, you remember how we asked you to come golfing with us on Tuesday and you said no?” George asked.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Yes?”

“Well, we asked Lily and Carmen to come along, so you won’t be bored when you join” He smiles as if he came up with the smartest idea possibly.

“Oh, seriously you guys?” You threw your head back as the trio smirked.

“Alright, I’ll come with you. I’m not golfing though”

“Aw thanks, Y/n, you always know how to make us feel loved” Lando said sarcastically.

“We’ll see you after the race, Y/n, good luck” Alex called over his shoulder as the three friends walked away.

“Good luck”

“Alright Y/n, you ready?” Lewis asked you as you stood across from each other in the Mercedes garage. You two were about to start your formation lap, but not without seeing the other off first.

“Of course. We’re going to do great, good luck” You smiled, then you remember you were wearing your helmets, so you hoped he could tell by your eyes that weren't yet covered by the visor. He removed the hands that were on your shoulders.

“Good luck”

There was during you...

You sat in your car as the thirty-second warning came on. Your car rested at the P6 position, Lewis in front of you and Checo Perez behind you. It was supposed to be a good race, the skies were clear, the stands were full, and all ten teams were optimistic.

“Alright everybody, as the red lights come one, everybody clears the track” The voice of David Crofty becomes audible.

You take a deep breath, tighten your grip on the wheel, and focus your gaze on the lights above you.

1...

2...

3..

4..

5..

“And its light’s out and away we go in Spa! Max Verstappen gets away with no trouble, Charles Leclerc following after him into Turn 1. Fernando Alonso isn’t as lucky, scrambling to get away from Carlos Sainz’ Ferrari behind him. Lewis Hamilton manages just fine, as does his teammate behind him, Y/n L/n, pulling away from Checo Perez easily”

There’s a lot you probably should be worried about, but you’re glad you're not. You navigate through the race pretty easily, both Mercedes staying in their respective places until Lap 17. Carlos overtook Fernando, and now your teammate is attempting to do the same.

“Alonso, about to lose two places as Lewis Hamilton closes in on him in Sector. 3 He’s going for it. Hamilton down the outside...can he pull it off? Yes he can! Lewis Hamilton P4 and the show isn’t over for Fernando here. Y/n L/n wants a bit of action too, she’s going for it, their nearing Turn 3...”

DRS is on and you’re not giving up. You go down the inside of the Aston Martin, you’re Parrell to him, you’re going wheel to wheel...

“They touch! Contact between Alonso and L/n! L/n gets turned around and- oh no! Sergio Perez hits into the side of her car! Oh my...that looked...” For the first time in a while, David Crofty is speechless.

Suddenly there is debris everywhere. It’s an immediate red flag and the reflexes of the drivers behind Perez are tested as they try to avoid the collision in the middle of the track. The crash caused Sergio’s car to slow down, but it also set your car forward again which allows his to accelerate again. The Red Bull pauses, waiting for the cars behind him to clear before moving forward and stopping his car at the limits of the track.

“What happened?”

“Who was that?”

“That..that looked bad. Who was it?”

“That was Y/n? Is she okay?”

It all happened too fast. As a Formula 1 driver, you needed to have the fastest reflexes possible, but this time, if you blinked, you’ve already missed half of it. You knew your car had been sprawled sideways across the track, you just didn’t know Checo Perez was a second and a half behind you.

It felt like the entire right side of your body had bowling balls thrown at it. You tried overtaking Fernando on a straight, so the Red Bull crashed into you with full power. Your hip felt the most force, but your legs were crushed under the dented medal of your car. You couldn’t even feel your right arm and it’s better that you didn’t. The crash knocked your head straight into the left side of your headrest and even with that bulky helmet, you were seconds away from unconsciousness.

For reasons you couldn’t figure out and didn’t have the time to, the words said in your last conversation swam in your head.

“Good luck”

If this is good luck, then what is bad luck?

You thought as your eyes closed. You didn’t have to find out, because the luck that was your life, runs out.

Eighteen cars are back in the pitlane, but Sergio Perez’s Red Bull remains out on the track. He turns off his car no problem, but his shaky hands cannot seem to unbuckle the harness that keeps him in his seat. He’s been in Formula 1 a long time, and he can’t thoroughly describe it, only as a terrible, terrible feeling, one you have all over your body. He’s only felt it once and he never wanted to feel it again. His body is in déjà vu, thinking of the terrible day in Japan, in denial of this day in Spa.

He pulls himself out of the car and sprints towards you. “Y/n!” He screams as loud as he possibly can. “Y/n!” He’s muttering curses and pleadings. “Y/n please” He lifts your visor to reveal your closed eyes. The Mexican swears again and looks around frantically for the medical team. He weaves his arms through the halo and starts shaking your shoulders. Segio doesn’t know what it’ll do but he doesn’t know what else he can do.

He unbuckles your harness as well before removing your helmet and balaclava whilst his brain is trying to remember the safety procedures he was taught. The man places two fingers underneath your chin where your pulse point is supposed to be. Except it isn’t, and Sergio Perez begins to panic. He tries to be still for a moment, watch your nose and your mouth and your chest for any signs of breathing, and places his hands over his own helmet covered face. His voice breaks. “Y/n”

Flashes of red lights dance across your reflective visor and the sound of sirens becomes audible. He keeps his head rested on the side of your car and his hands clasped together in a prayer, hoping that the crash could be undone. There are wheels squeaking against the track and footsteps rushing around and he feels a hand placed on his shoulder.

“Sergio, are you okay? Come over here, you need a checkup...” A marshal drones on but Checo’s mind is on you. That terrible feeling is drowning him, forcing him to remember how it felt when he learned Jules Bianchi died and how he promised to never let a friend die. Sergio Perez has been in Formula 1 a long time; he should know not to make promises you can’t keep.

But we never thought there’d be an “after” you

The Mercedes garage knows first. The message comes from a radio and Lewis thinks that no message that important should be given by a radio.

He’s angry first. The British man is not known for his rage, but it escapes him before he can control it. He’s been out of his car for almost 10 minutes by now, Toto telling him to come out when 20 minutes passed, and they hadn’t been given an update. Lewis was listening to the station the medical team uses, and he, like everyone else in the room, was still.

“We’ve completed the examination, there is no pulse. Y/n L/n is dead”

A calm, before the storm.

He grabs the radio before anyone can react and is shouting without even realizing it. “No you haven’t. You check and you check again and again until she walks back here, okay?” Lewis’s voice breaks and his heart knows it even though his brain is denying it.

“I’m sorry but she’s-”

“No, no, she isn’t anything. She is fine and you bring her back here right now. You tell her I need to talk to her, you tell her I need her right now” A sob slips from his mouth and he’s buried his head in his hands as if taking his eyes off the world would bring her back into it.

The normally stoic Toto Wolff has tears shining in his eyes and Susie is crying next to him. The engineers in the room don’t know what to do, only that they want to go home and miss you and try to convince themselves they’ll see you later, walking out of the hotel with a smile on your face, rushing to catch your flight.

The FIA knows your relationship with the rest of the drivers well enough that none of them will have the heart and mind to finish the race. They radio each of the team’s garage’s one at a time, breaking the news and informing them of their decision.

David Crofty and Martin Brundle know next, and they are graced with the gift of telling almost 400 thousand people that one of their drivers have died. David Crofty and Martin Brundle are well into their age and have seen a lot but seeing a young woman killed doing what she loved in a freak accident? No, that’s too much.

A heavy silence fills Circuit de Spa-Francorchamps and the fans are stunned into the silence of reality.

The drivers are questioning themselves for the first time since 2019. Charles Leclerc breaks down into tears and he’s not sure how many more loved ones he can lose before he crumbles completely. Pierre Gasly sobs at the thought of having to lay another bouquet of flowers at this track and this time, without you by his side.

Esteban Ocon is spiraling into déjà vu and Yuki Tsunoda is torn between comforting himself, Daniel Ricciardo, or making the trip to Alpine to see his best friend. In that moment, the Australian is sure he will never smile again because you aren’t here it mirror it or cause it. Carlos Sainz hopes he never loses one of his sisters but if he does, he knows it will feel like this. The Spainard only wished to protect you and keep you happy and is left crying while his wishes fall away just like his tears.

Fernando Alonso knows this is something that will be engraved in his mind for every second of every day for the rest of his life. People assure him, it’s not your fault, it was a freak accident, but it doesn’t feel like it. He knows how to defend, especially without making contact, so how do you explain this? The man is advised not to let the grief consume him, but he welcomes it, lives with it until November, when he announces his retirement and knows that it’s permanent this time.

Lando Norris, George Russel, and Alex Albon are in states of disbelief.

We were talking, not even two hours ago... she was supposed to go with us...

You were supposed to go golfing with the three, yes, but you were also meant to go through Formula 1 with them. Be there for every podium, every win, every World Championship the four of you always dreamed of winning. Now they just dream of getting one more minute with you.

Dear Spa, stop killing our friends

#formula 1 #f1 grid x reader #reader insert #driver reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 driver imagines #platonic f1 grid #angst

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risuola · 24 days

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ENTRY #3 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU

The skies bear the stars, And the oceans – so full, Yet I realize, All I crave is blue.

contents: arranged marriage!au, slight misogyny — 0,9k words

a/n: you voted, I deliver - an entry that might seem slightly out of place, slightly not relevant but it's important to the story, it shows the slow development.

series masterlist

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

You sat on an armchair, somewhat tensed despite the comfort of your own home and the soft cushions below you. In front of you sat a man. An arrogant grin plastered onto his objectively handsome features that somehow made you cringe at the sight. His mouth moved, he was speaking, over and over again telling the same story from a different angle and throwing facts at you that didn’t quite make sense, no matter how many times they were replayed.

“It’s an offer,” he spoke again, his pearly white, perfectly straight teeth glimmered in the sharp sunlight that bounced off the glass in the frame containing your wedding picture. “There’s a prestige tied to it, a status much more influential than your current last name could ever provide. I understand Gojo Satoru’s high position in the world of sorcery, but realistically, it doesn’t benefit you the way it should.”

He was talking, confident and loud but you couldn’t help but find him slightly sociopathic. Severely narcissistic. His sharp brown eyes were piercing through you and you could tell that every spasm of his muscles was forced, creating a fake illusion of some twisted version of kindness and gentleness. He moved in a way to appear more approachable, more inviting. You were taking in his form, clad in traditional kimono and hakama bottoms, oddly contrasting with his bleached hair and pierced ears. Thing is, there was nothing inviting about him.

“My marriage is an arrangement made with the thought of the best interest for both mine and my husband’s clan.” Your words flew out of your mouth a little too rough and yet, it was the first time you put a heavy accent onto the word that described who Satoru was to you right now.

“Of course it was,” the man chuckled. Evil. “But you see, Satoru Gojo is an anomaly born for the first time in four hundred years. Probability of you bearing a child that would bring value to his, arguably extinct, clan is relatively low, if not zero. On the other hand, my technique is easily passed down in blood and strong as it is, even without considering the possible Ten Shadows awakening though I believe that the input of your cursed technique makes the chances that much higher.”

“Forgive me my bluntness, Zen’in, but my marriage is finalized and I don’t intend to–“

“You don’t understand, woman,” he snapped, harsh and rough and raised up to his feet a little too eagerly. Realizing that, he took a breath and walked towards the wooden dresser. His greedy hands snatched the picture framed in the constellation of intricate veins and leaves carved into the dark oak and his fingers run across the glass front. “There’s nothing better you can do, than marrying me, one and only rightful heir of the Zen’in clan. Me, Naoya Zen’in, a man above all those weaklings around. I’m a prodigy, a genius. I’m the stronges–“

“I dare to disagree,” you cut the reckless spurt of nonsense leaving his lips. “I do recognize your strength and the values you represent, but as I already told you. My marriage is finalized, I’m married to Satoru Gojo and, with all due respect, you’re not close to being the strongest.” You stood your ground, firmly and with confidence and as you approached the man, you gently took the picture from his hands. “And also, even if I were not tied to Satoru, I wouldn’t allow myself to ever cross paths with a buffoon such as you, Naoya.”

“Clearly, you don’t know your place, do you?” He groaned, lowly and animalistically and it was a split second before his long fingers dug into the fat of your cheeks as he grabbed you by the face. “You know where’s a place of a woman? Three steps behind her husband. On her knees, ready to serve. There’s no other purpose for you than to–“

“I’ll advise you to take your hands off my wife, Zen’in.” Another second and your husband was home, right next to you, appearing out of thin air. His large hand wrapped tightly around Naoya’s forearm and their eyes meeting in a challenge. Despite the ice-cold tension in the air, Gojo’s face was neutral, amused almost. The corner of his lips twitched, lifting up just slightly as his unwavering gaze slowly pierced a crack into the arrogant mask of the guest.

“We’re just talking,” he hissed through his teeth but allowed his fingers to relax, releasing your jaw.

“Actually, it seemed as if you were leaving already,” you added calmly and it didn’t take longer than two minutes until the doors closed and the blonde left, mumbling insults under his breath. You exhaled, deeply, allowing the tension to leave your body as you twisted the locks and it’s just at that moment when you realized how much relief and sense of safety your husband brought.

“Care to explain why was Naoya Zen’in in our house when I was out? I don’t remember that visit being scheduled.” Satoru questioned and you let out a sigh, approaching him. With gentle hands you reached up to where the blindfold hung loosely around his neck and carefully pulled it up to cover the blue of his eyes.

“I’d love to know more than you do, but I don’t,” you replied. “He came uninvited, offered me marriage and didn’t take rejection too well.”

“Offered you marriage?” He scoffed. “The audacity.”

“Doesn’t matter. I said no and he left. Thank you for showing up.”

“I’m fulfilling my duties. That’s all.”

“Of course, you are.”

taglist: @kinny-away, @anan-baban, @lotomber, @netflix-imagines, @kawliflo, @nishloves, @ghostfacefricker6969, @thejujvtsupost, @yozora7154, @cherrycolabarbedwirebedpost

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hidden-snow · 3 months

Text

✦┈⋆┈ ⋞ 〈ＲｕｎｎｉｎｇＨｏｍｅｔｏＹｏｕ〉 ⋟ ┈⋆┈✦

Summary // You thought your relationship was as special to him as it was to you. You thought he loved and cherished you as much as you loved and cherished him. But when his family leaves the Omatikaya and all he has to offer is ‘I’m sorry’ when you beg and plead for him to stay with you, you realize that you were so, so wrong about him. Heartbroken and defeated, a girl barely seventeen years old, you decide that you will never love again. After all, it hadn’t meant anything to him. Years later and you are the best of the best. A strong warrior and an even better hunter, you provide for your people in every way except for a child to add to the next generation of Omatikaya people. They respect your wishes but you can hear the whispers. You can feel the concerned gazes from your parents, too old to conceive a sibling to make up for your lack of children. When he comes back, it throws you through a loop. Handsome, mighty, and different, he comes to you right away. But you promised yourself.

Warnings // Angst, a bit of stalker Neteyam, some fluff, mentions of drinking, heartbreak

Word count // 1,234

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7

The air felt cool and light, brushing against your skin as Danza flew high in the sky.

Your fingers outstretched, you watched with a gentle smile as your hand brushed through the light, fluffy clouds, easily parting them. If the air was cool, the clouds were even cooler.

In the night sky, Danza’s whole body was lit up in brilliant bioluminescent splotches, and the world below was lit up and full of life, something about Pandora that you would always love.

Neteyam’s ikran flew close to yours, chirping and calling softly to Danza as its mount attempted to keep up with your fast flying and crazy maneuvers.

You’d meant what you said; you didn’t want to talk to him. Insistent as he was, even if he had a chance at helping you fall for him again, jealousy still sat, harbored deep in your heart, making it nearly impossible to look at him without feeling the heat of anger begin charging within your chest.

You couldn’t love someone you harbored hatred for. It wouldn’t be fair to him or yourself.

“Y/n! How about a race? You and me. Just like before,” Neteyam offered when he finally caught up with you. You thought about it for a moment, skeptical, before raising an eyebrow at him.

“What’s the catch?”

“There’s no catch,” Neteyam laughed back and you rolled your eyes at the seemingly innocent suggestion he’d made.

“There’s always a catch with you, Neteyam te Sulli Tsyeykitan. What is it?”

“Alright. Alright, true,” the young man responded, hands raising in the air in a ‘you caught me’ gesture.

“Winner gets to pick what we’ll be eating for supper tonight.”

“And the loser?” you ask, ignoring the fact that he was implying that you’d even sit with him to eat together.

“Loser has to eat it, no complaints.”

“Not worth it,” you respond and he gives you an exasperated look.

“Alright. What do you suggest loser does?”

“Loser has to do whatever the winner wants them to do. So, when I win, if I tell you to leave me alone, you have to do it.”

“For how long?”

You nibble on your lip in thought for a moment before returning your straying attention to him.

“For as long as the winner wants.”

Neteyam fell silent, thinking it over, and you take the chance to look at him. The moonlight on his skin illuminated the rippling muscles in his body, his frame still on the smaller side compared to his father.

Bioluminescent spots glitter and flicker with light in the darkness, a stark contrast on his face compared to the black tattoos that ink his blue skin.

He was handsome and he seemed to only get more handsome the longer you looked at him. So you didn’t. Turning away, you waited patiently for his answer.

“Alright. Deal. Just know this means I’m definitely going to win.”

“Dream on, Neteyam! You haven’t bested me in a race since we first started riding the skies!” you respond teasingly, and he rolled his eyes at your response.

“We’ll see who gets the last laugh. I’ll see you back at hometree, then!”

He’s off before you have a moment to realize what he said. But you were determined to beat him. After all, you couldn’t stand to watch him flirt with one more woman. Not while you were trying to decide where exactly your heart was leaning towards when it came to him.

You spur your ikran onward, focused and determined, avoiding all of the possible obstacles that could slow you down. You were almost there. Almost side-by-side with Neteyam when he cheats. Or, that’s how you would interpret it. He smiles a crooked smile as you finally catch up to him and you can’t help but raise your eyebrow at him. That smile. The crooked grin, similar to his little smirks he gave when he was about to cause trouble for you.

His ikran dove towards yours and you veer off course, trying to steady your ikran the best you could.

“Hey! That’s cheating, you skxawng!” you shout, trying to catch back up with him. There’s no point. He lands before you do. He beat you.

As you dismount, you pat your ikran’s neck gently, rewarding her with some fish in a basket nearby, before stalking up to your childhood friend.

“You cheated!” you hiss, annoyed and frustrated by his childish antics. He just laughs, shaking off your anger. After all, it was hard to take you serious when you were like this; all puffed up in anger despite the height differences between you two.

“I didn’t cheat if there were no rules. Which, there were not any rules. So, I won.”

He got you there. He had a fair point. You scoff, hands falling to your hips, and he watches silently as you mutter to yourself in annoyance of your little forgetfulness. Of course, he’d pull something like that without rules! How could you have been so careless?

“Y/n, you have to do what I say, remember?”

You look back at him, mid-rant, and sigh in defeat.

“Alright, Neteyam. You won. What is it that you want?”

“Well…”

He takes a couple steps towards you, closing the distance so that you were basically chest-to-chest, staring down in your eyes with a softness that only he seemed to contain. A softness that brought a bit of warmth to your stone-cold heart.

“I want you to kiss me.”

“W-what?”

You’re not sure you heard him clearly. At least, until he slides his fingers up, cupping your jaw gently, keeping you from turning away from him. You’re frozen in your spot, fighting eternally with yourself.

Should you turn away? Should you allow him to do as he wished? After all, he’d won a bet you’d agreed on. You weren’t one to back out on a promise. You give in, just letting it happen, swearing up and down that no matter what, you wouldn’t let yourself fall in love. Not with him. It didn’t matter if he was a good kisser, though you had a feeling he was. It didn’t matter if he touched you like you were the most special person in the world. It didn’t matter.

Because when you needed him most, he left you behind like garbage.

Bracing yourself, you close your eyes as you feel his lips lightly brush against yours, almost like the ghost of a kiss, barely there.

His thumb rubs your jaw gently before he’s pulling back, still staring at you as if awestruck by you. His thumb skims over the plump of your lips before he draws back completely.

“I guess I didn’t finish what I said, did I?” he asks as he crosses his arms, watching you try to make sense of this whole situation.

“I want you to kiss me. But only when I’ve finally won your heart again. I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do. I’m not going to kiss you because of some bet. Right now, you still feel very little for me. One day, hopefully, you will kiss me when you truly feel something for me. Until then, I’ll be waiting.”

He brushed past you gently, heading back to the common area where the people talked and relaxed, leaving you staring blankly ahead of you, still trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

Taglist // @earthling55

#avatar the way of water #avatar 2 #avatar #avatar fandom #avatar fics #neteyam #Neteyam sully #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam smut #neteyam x reader #atwow #atwow neteyam #neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #neteyam fic #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam fluff #neteyam angst #running home to you series

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redr0sewrites · 3 months

Note

If it wouldn’t be too much to ask can we get an angst Adam x reader?

Where reader is a winner waiting in heaven for Adam to return from extermination only for him to never show and being told by Emily or lute directly he died.

Please and thank you!

NONNIE WHY WOULD U DO THIS TO MEEEEEEEE <\\3

🥀Pt 2 HERE

🥀Cw: major character death, angst

the soft tapping of your foot against the marble floors echoed rhythmically throughout your shared home. shared with your lover of course, who had just flown off to this year's extermination. pacing up and down the kitchen floor, worries were seeping into your mind. despite your lover's reassurance, you still had the nagging feeling that something was amiss. you knew that Adam would be up against some of hells greatest powers, and while he had confidently assured you that the battle would be easy, you were still uncertain.

"dont worry toots, i'll be fiiiiine. i always am, eh? i'm THE Adam, i fucking rock! trust me babe, this fight will be over in minutes~" your lover leaned in to kiss your cheek before donning his helmet and taking off into the sky. as you watched him fly away, you tried to calm the worries soaring in your chest. Adam was right, he would be fine. he always was... right?

you replayed the scene in your mind again and again, trying to force yourself to remain calm. everything would be fine, Adam would come home and tackle you in a hug, then demand that you listen to him rant for the next few hours about each of his kills. suddenly, the rustle of wings and a loud thump outside of your door caught your attention. you ran towards your front door, excitement filling your body as relief curled into your soul. he was fine, of course he was fine! you tore open the door, expecting your lover's bright eyes and boastful expression to greet you. but it wasn't Adam at the door. it was Lute, looking bedraggled and worse for wear.

"Lute? what the fuck happened to your arm?!" you exclaim, motioning for her to come inside. Lute just shakes her head, a miserable look on her usually stern face. "Lute... where is Adam?" you try to remain calm as she just stares at you, pain and pity in her gaze. "he... in the battle, there were some... complications. Adam didn't make it," she whispered, handing you a bloody halo. ice cold shock flooded through you, soon melting into a burning pain coiled in your chest. you felt as though your insides were trying to break free, and you took the halo from her with shaky hands.

"where... where is his body," you whisper, voice low and sharp. Lute turned, refusing to even look at you. "we lost it, we had to retreat quickly and didn't have time to retrieve it..." your heart broke at her remorseful tone, and tears began to stream down your face. "i'm sorry y/n. there was nothing i could do-" you raised a hand to shush her, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself. your lovers cold halo was still heavy in your hand, just like the heavy ache in your heart.

"its not your fault, Lute. i just- i need some alone time to process- i don't know." you sigh, defeated and exhausted. "i think we all do," she whispered, looking at you again. then, Lute nodded understandingly, and flew off without another word. for a second you stood there, looking out at the beautiful skies of heaven. people always claimed that there were never bad days in heaven, but you felt as though your very soul was splitting in half. pain and remorse and anger seemed to be filling the empty pit in your heart, the fresh wound of Adam's loss already stung enough. you slam your door shut, throwing the halo across the ground and collapsing into your shared bed- now just yours. there was nothing you could do, and tears overcame you as the sound of sobbing echoed throughout your lonely home.

AUGHHHHHJH this hurts. i might make a pt2 where adam returns as a sinner and reunites with reader (only if yall want ofc) bc i HATe unhappy endings 😭

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alexa-fika · 4 months

Note

okay hold up I just a.. unique idea

Im rewatching OP and im at sabody arc, n Laffy jist knocked the shit outta the noble

Idk who to ask this for but id love to see how'd you'd write a character reacticing to a noble trynna BUY child reader..

Or perhaps how mihawk would react with them trynna buy winged!child!reader?? IDK IT JIST SPROUTED

Do with as you will👹

Embracing Feelings and Family (Rayleigh x gn!winged!child!reader)

A/N: Not sure how to feel about this one., I think is really mid, maybe it’s just because of the dark nature of the piece itself but idk. I think this goes without saying based on the request but beware of the dark undertones of this piece as it portrays human slavery and auctioning. I couldn’t come up with something for mihawk so I went with our favorite grandpa

Dividers by @/saradika

“Up next, we have ourselves a true rarity! This one will blow your minds; we have a winged child! You can fly it around as you want or even have them carry you around the skies! They can even deliver you special things in a fraction of a time!” The announcer enthusiastically explained

“Let us start the bid at 10 Million Berry! Who offers 10 Million Berry?!”

“Let me go, you Jerks! Im not an item!” The child growls, banging on the cage’s bars

Charlos awes childishly before throwing out the first bid

“It’s a big Bird! It’s a Big Bird! 50 million Berry!” He yelled out joyfully before waving happily to the child in the cage

“Grandpa will get you all! Grandpa will save me, you gross creeps!”

The bidders ignore the child’s threats, continuing to bid

“60 million!” A man in the back screams

“80 million!” Another man hollers back

“I’ll do 800 million!” Charlos shouts back while waving his arms frantically in the air excitedly

“D-Does somebody bid any higher?”

“800 million….” “Awe, man, I was excited to have it too!” The crowd mutters

“Going in 3!

Going in 2!

Going in 1!

Sold!

The winged child goes to Saint Charlos for 800 million berry!”

Reader screams as they open the door to their cage and begin pulling on the chains, trying to pull them out and take him toward Charlos.

“Don’t touch me!” They sneered, throwing a kick toward the handler that was closest to them

The handler dodges out of the way and gives them a look.

“Rude little one, don’t bite the hand that feeds you!” The handler growls

“You have just been bought for a very generous amount of money for no one less than a Saint himself! A nobody like you should be Grateful!” They turn towards The Saint and bow

“A-Apologies for its insolence Saint Charlos; if I may, I’ll gladly teach it some manners for you; no need to trouble someone of your status to teach slaves some tricks.”

Charlos groans, sticking his finger in his nose.

“Could you hurry it up? I want to fly it!”

“Yes, Yes, of course; im sure you must be extremely busy, Saint Charlos. I promise not to take more time than is needed!” they assure him, turning around towards the child

“Now come here, you stupid brat,” they growl, raising a baton towards them.

“You will learn to listen!" the exclaim, bringing the baton down, but instead of receiving a blow, the man before them falls to the ground, knocked unconscious.

Reader sighs with relief when the man falls to the ground, the people in the auctioning house following the familiar pattern they have come to expect from their grandpa’s powerful Haki

“Grandpa!” They say, trying to flutter their way to Rayleigh but are cut short due to the chains binding them, causing them to plummet to the ground

“Ow”

“Geez, Reader.”

Rayleigh sighs calmly as he wrenches the chains from them easily, not paying any mind to the explosions that followed once they were removed.

“You seem to be able to get yourself in all kinds of trouble,” He says calmly as he sets the child back down

“Haven’t I told you not to get near this place and much less showing off those wings of yours?”

“What was it this time?” He asks as he looks them over for injuries

“I tried to fly higher…but a wind current caught me, and I couldn’t get myself out from it; it dragged me here, and they brought me here.”

“A wind current?” Rayleigh asks curiously

“One strong enough to drag even you, that’s pretty surprising, to say the least,” He says as he continues to look them over

“Are you alright? Have you sustained any injuries?”

“Im okay.”

“Alright, good to know,” He says as he scoops them up and leaves the wretched place.

“That must have been scary, huh? Im sorry it took me so long to get there; my body doesn’t move the way I want to anymore.”

“I wasn’t scared,” they mutter

“It’s okay, you know.”

“What?”

“To be scared for one’s life from time to time it’s not something one should be ashamed to admit; it doesn’t make us any less brave; you have the right to be scared, just as much as you have the right to be brave.”

“Your feelings are real; you shouldn’t deny them,” He says as he continues to carry them

They stare at him as their eyes begin to water

He smiles gently

“Just let it out, Reader; no one will think less of you for being scared.”

They hug him tighter, diving their head in his shirt as sobs start escaping them

“T-They kept calling me ‘it,’ they kept saying how they would fly me around like I was a kite,” they sob

He ran his fingers through their hair while he let them continue to cry, hugging them back tightly as he did.

He couldn’t help the anger he felt rising when thinking about what had happened inside the auction house

He rubs their back gently as he continues to walk

“Nothing that they told you in it is true; Reader, do not listen to their words; you are invaluable and your own person, not someone to be owned,” He says

“I -I know b-but the way they said it, they meant it, Grandpa; I was nothing but an item for them to use in their eyes.”

He pulls them a bit more tightly as he did

"I know, some people are like that, wretched beings who enjoy stepping in other people and causing them misery simply because they can."

“You are someone special to me; always remember that; you are the biggest treasure for me and your grandmother,” He says gently as they rub their back

"Now what do you say we go back to the shack and ask Grandma to make you your favorite drink?" they offer, chuckling when they feel the child nooding

"Can we add extra chocolate to it?"

"Anything you want, Reader," he smiles, knowing that it would take a long time and effort to build their confidence and sense of security back to where it was after everything that had happened, but they would get there together.

Ya’ll I have summoned my choice wheels to do some platonic!reader x character, not child reader, normal age reader but still platonic 👀 Had to fight to find some good roulettes.

Taglist

@imaginarydreams

#one piece x reader #one piece #one piece x child!reader #one piece fluff #one piece imagine #rayleigh x reader #one piece rayleigh #silvers rayleigh #dark king rayleigh #rayleigh x child!reader #rayleigh x child! reader #rayleigh x you #rayleigh x y/n #rayleigh x gn reader #rayleigh x shakky #one piece x gender neutral reader #one piece x gn reader #shakky x gn reader

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thedancingcostumeyoungadult · 2 years

Text

Everything and more - S.R.

I said that this might take a while then I wrote it in a day oops.

Word count ~1200

Pairing: Spencer Reid/fem!pregnant!Reader

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy

A small collection of moments with Spencer as you prepare for your daughter's arrival, a continuation of Unimpressed. There's a part 3 here

The soft rumble of Spencer’s voice wakes you, your eyes blinking open in the dark as you lie on your side. In your sleepy haze you assume that he got a call, but as you wake up a little, you realize he isn’t on the phone. Without moving, you peer through the darkness at your husband, joy and love rising in your chest as you realize what he’s doing.

He lies beside you, curled up with his face pressed close to your belly. His fingers trace light circles on the skin just below your navel as he whispers to the bump, some passage from a book you’ve never read. Your belly jumps as the baby shifts, a foot or a fist poking out.

“Shh,” you can hear the smile in his voice even though you can’t see it, “you’re gonna wake your mom.” His palm rests flat on your side, his thumb brushing side to side over the skin where the baby had moved and he leans closer.

His lips brush your skin and you fight not to let the touch tickle, you don’t want to disturb the moment even as his touch sends warmth sparking through your body..

He continues, “She’s doing such a good job making you, little one. And you’re doing such a good job growing.” You smile to yourself, once again reminded, like you are every day, why there is no one you would rather be your baby’s father. Spencer’s lips leave your skin and his whispering resumes, no longer from a book, but something you recognize.

“She walks in beauty, like the night,

Of countless climes and starry skies;

All that’s best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes:

Thus mellow’d to that tender light

Which Heaven to gaudy day denies.” As you realize his choice of authors, you can’t help but snort softly.

“You’re reciting Byron to our daughter? Byron?” He jumps at your voice, his surprised eyes finding yours in the darkness before a wide smile splits his face.

“I happen to like that poem, thank you.” He murmurs with faux indignation as he scoots up to be level with you, his hand still resting on your belly. You quirk an eyebrow at him, a matching grin spreading across your face as he catches your lips softly with his own.

“How long have you been awake?” He pulls away slightly, smoothing your hair back.

“I couldn’t sleep.” His admission tugs on your heartstrings, but another sensation overtakes it.

“Well how about a late-night drive?” Spencer catches on right away, chuckling and shaking his head.

“Somewhere with a drive through?” He asks, tapping your nose lightly. You nod and laugh with him, patting his face affectionately.

“Yep, now help me up, pretty boy.”

"I just don't know what to do, she’s always so uncomfortable and there's nothing I can do to help." Reid whines, slumping defeatedly into his desk chair and throwing his hands up. Morgan chuckles as he leans against the desk.

“Yeah, the last couple of weeks are rough. But it sounds like you’re doing everything right, pretty boy.” JJ appears at his shoulder, a few case files tucked under her arm.

“Hey Spence.” Her gaze flickers over his slumped form and tired eyes and she raises her eyebrows, sharing a knowing look with Morgan. “How’s she doing?” Spencer swipes his hand down his face.

“She’s resting as much as she can, but the baby’s putting pressure on her spine.” His brows furrow. “I just wish I could help somehow.”

A lightbulb goes off in Morgan’s head.

“Wait, JJ there was that one thing you told me about when Savannah was pregnant that helped her.” JJ lights up in response, snapping her fingers.

“Of course! Good thinking Morgan.” Spencer shoots forward in his chair, practically hanging off their words.

“What? What is it?” His gaze flicks between the two of them desperately as JJ sets the files on his desk so her hands are free.

“Okay, so what you do is you stand behind her and you put your hands under her belly like this.” She demonstrates, cupping her hands in front of her, “And you just lift up a little and hold it for her. It’ll take the weight off her body. The first time Will did it for me I almost cried.” Spencer looks between them, aghast, his jaw hanging slack.

“That’s not in any of the books! How-how didn’t I know that?” He sputters indignantly. Morgan laughs, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Relax, pretty boy, you know now.”

You are standing in the living room when you hear the door and only a few moments later Spencer sidles up behind you, his hands snaking around your waist and drawing you close. You let your head fall back against his shoulder with a soft sigh, the warmth and support of his chest easing some of the ache in your back.

"Hi." You breathe, turning your head to the side so you can nuzzle against his neck.

"Hey beautiful." He presses a kiss to your temple, "How are you feeling?" You twist, pouting up at him.

"My back hurts, she's heavy." You complain and his heart twists in sympathy. His hands rub soothing circles on your belly, the warmth of his hands going straight through the thin material of your tank top as he fits himself even closer against your back. You sigh again, your hands coming up to cover his.

"Can I try something? I think it'll help." He murmurs, brushing his nose against your ear.

"God, please, anything." You beg, shifting your weight in an effort to ease the discomfort in your back and hips. Spencer soothes you, tucking his face against your neck as his hands slide downwards. He wraps his arms tighter around you, his hands cradling the underside of your belly. When he’s satisfied that his hands are properly placed, he lifts gently, taking the weight of the baby off of your body. Your head falls back against his shoulder as a moan fall from your lips. Relief floods your body as your spine sits comfortably for the first time in months, the deep ache in your lower back easing.

Spencer can’t help but smile against your neck as you melt against him, realizing that he is technically holding his daughter for the first time.

“Oh, Spencer Reid, you are a god among men.” He kisses your shoulder with a chuckle.

“No I’m not. You, however,” another kiss, “are divine.” It's your turn to laugh.

“You flatter me.” Lifting his head from your shoulder, he noses against your cheek, his forehead pressing against the side of your face.

“You deserve it.” You don’t answer, you just let him hold you in warm silence. Spencer breaths you in, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. He still sometimes has trouble believing that this is real, that you are real. There have been times that he thought he would live the rest of his life and never feel this kind of peace, never love and be loved like this. But here he is, holding his wife and his unborn daughter, in the home they’d made together. And it was everything he’d ever dreamed of. Everything and more.

*just some extra soft Spencer bc he deserves is and frankly so do we*

*please like and reblog!*

#spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #jeanie writes #spencer reid fanfic #cw pregnancy

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hesbuckcompton-baby · 2 months

Text

I'm Your Man - Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal x OFC - Chapter 9

AO3

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 3.6k

Tags: @mads-weasley @xxluckystrike @curaheehee @footprintsinthesxnd @dcyllom @storysimp @latibvles @love-studying58

A/N: Sorry this chapter took a while! Please enjoy some filler fluff as a reward for your patience

The January cold was a biting, painful thing, with the uncanny ability to burrow its way deep beneath any clothing, regardless of the layers everyone at Thorpe Abbotts had desperately piled on for protection. Thick, wool socks and scarves were always in order, and a few of the elderly women in the village had begun to make a pretty penny by selling them on to disgruntled pilots who had never before experienced winter outside of California.

Major Kidd had given her Egan's sheepskin jacket. Well, he less gave it to her than he did leave it in the mechanics' hut for her, but she appreciated the gesture nevertheless. The sleeves were too long, but she made do, as it was loose enough on her to fit comfortably over her work overalls. Combined with the wool tights she'd stolen from George, and the fingerless gloves she'd found at the bottom of a drawer somewhere, the weather was almost bearable. Almost.

It had snowed overnight. There was too much ice on the roads to cycle without endangering life and limb, so Frankie had been forced to commandeer a phone and summon Lemmons in one of the jeeps. The man had looked so miserable upon his arrival, that it had been impossible not to laugh. Hat tugged down past his eyebrows, scarf pulled up over his chin, his face was only half visible, and what sliver she could see was contorted in a frown. His gloves were made of bright orange wool, and she suspected the women in the village had run out of the more appealing colours by the time he sought them out. Grinning to herself, she clambered into the jeep, stomping snow off of her boots as she sat down.

"I don't like this country anymore, Frankie," Ken complained, voice muffled by his scarf.

She laughed. "Oh, sweetheart, if you think this is bad..."

He was stricken with a look of complete and utter fear, and Frankie let out a snort. "It gets worse?"

"Probably!"

This information put him in a foul mood for the rest of the drive, muttering and grumbling to himself about 'goddamn snow' and 'goddamn ice' as they pulled up to the runway, tyres gouging fresh marks into the undisturbed blanket of white. They were both left sorely wishing they had finished their work the night before when the weather had been more palatable, but there was no getting around what they had to do now.

The metal of the planes' exteriors was frozen to the touch, bare fingertips left raw and red as they worked away at replacing and tightening various bolts and rivets, breath blooming in frozen clouds in front of their faces. Every five minutes they would have to step away from whatever they were doing and run a few laps around the place just to warm themselves up, aware of what a ridiculous sight they must have made.

"Think they'll go up again tomorrow?" Ken asked, panting as he jogged on the spot behind Frankie, occasionally pausing to throw in a few star jumps.

"Not if the weather doesn't clear up - they'll need better skies than this if the navigators want to get anywhere," She shrugged, pausing halfway through tightening another bolt to jump up and down, attempting to restore feeling to her legs.

"Everyone else is in bed right now," He complained.

"Lucky bastards."

The pair must have appeared entirely absurd, chatting away with stony, irritated expressions as they stomped and jumped around entirely out of synch, and they counted themselves lucky that there wasn't a single other soul out there that morning to bear witness. A lit cigarette hung from between Frankie's lips, the embers only just succeeding in warming her face. Their cheeks and noses had both turned red after only an hour out in the cold, and by the end of their second, neither could justify staying outside any longer.

Kicking the snow off their boots, they shut themselves in the mechanics' hut, the light that hung from the ceiling swaying in the drafty breeze - the result of a ceiling gap that they were unable to locate. Turning on the gas stove that was usually only used to make terrible coffee, the pair pulled up their chairs beside it, holding their frozen hands above the small flame until feeling returned to their fingers.

"I forgot to ask you about your Christmas," Frankie huffed, rubbing her palms together, creating heat from the friction.

"That was nearly a month ago," He pointed out.

"I know. Just felt a bit bad about not asking."

"It was good, yeah. Sammy's folks had a goose, I dunno where they got it from," Lemmons chuckled, pausing for a moment. When he spoke again, there was a glimmer of something in his eye. "How was your Christmas?"

She frowned at him. "I told you before. Good."

"...Mhm."

A sudden knock at the door took them both by surprise, heads snapping towards the unexpected sound. Brows furrowed, they glanced at one another, neither one wanting to get up from their spot beside the stove. "Door's open!" Ken called.

They could hear the sound of someone awkwardly fumbling with the door handle, and Frankie was about to get up when it finally opened. Rosie had to use his foot to pry his way inside, a steaming cup of Red Cross coffee in each hand as he shuffled through, flakes of snow still resting unmelted in his hair. His face was flushed pink, and he wasn't wearing anywhere near enough clothes to protect him from the cold, snow encrusting the soles of his boots.

"Hey!" Frankie beamed, pulling up another chair for him between her and Lemmons. "Jesus, were you trying to get hypothermia?"

"Brought coffee," He said simply, voice still slightly shaky as he sat down, holding the tin mugs out to the mechanics. "And uh-" Reaching into his pocket, Rosie produced a crumpled paper bag containing a couple of doughnuts. "Don't tell Helen. Was only supposed to take one."

"Gee, thanks, Cap," Lemmons nodded gratefully, shooting Frankie a pointed stare that she pretended not to have noticed. She nodded in agreement, both hands wrapped around her cup, feeling the heat seep through the metal. The Red Cross coffee always tasted so much better than the crap they had in the mechanics' hut, and she resisted the urge to grin at the gesture, especially as she realised he had brought nothing for himself.

They drank in silence for a while, the only sound the jagged, laboured breathing of one trying to wear off a chill. "...So, uh..." Rosie began, hands folded in his lap as he looked between the others. "...Work going well?"

"Y'know, I can go somewhere else if you guys want," Ken pointed out, peering at them over the rim of his mug.

"No!" "No!" Frankie and Rosie blurted simultaneously, assuring him hurriedly. "You need to keep warm, Ken," She told him.

He had slurped down his coffee quickly, the winter cold cooling it down so that it wouldn't burn his throat. Shaking his head, he pushed his chair backwards out of the little semi-circle they had created, scraping loudly across the floor. "The fuel cans we asked for arrived yesterday, I should go pick them up before I forget."

"You sure?" Frankie asked, getting up to trail after him as he made his way to the door. "The snow'll probably start melting soon, you should wait until it's not so icy."

"No, no. Now's good," Lemmons nodded determinedly, smirking at her as he opened the door, a gust of cold wind blowing its way inside. "Thanks again for the coffee, Rosie!"

"No problem, Ken," He nodded, tipping an imaginary cap at him as the mechanic disappeared outside.

Frankie paused a moment to process what had happened before letting out a huff of laughter. Rosie was still sat beside the stove, watching with a smile as she crossed the room towards him. She leant down, and he craned his head up to meet her, their lips meeting in a quick kiss, as casual and comfortable as a long-married couple.

"He definitely knows," She pointed out, lowering herself back into her seat and propping her legs up across his lap, his elbows resting gently on them.

"Oh yeah," Rosie nodded in agreement. "Have you properly told anyone yet? Only, I haven't - I was waiting until you wanted to."

"Oh, I've only told George, she won't tell anyone. But I tell her literally everything, so y'know."

"Yeah, yeah, I expected that," He continued nodding, pausing after a moment as a stricken look of realisation crossed his face. "Wait, does that mean you told her about when we-"

"No! No, not about that, Jesus," Frankie giggled, nose creasing as she took another sip of her coffee. A smile spread across Rosie's expression as he took a moment to actually take in her appearance, his thumb rubbing back and forth along the hem of her trousers.

"... Is that Egan's jacket?"

"Mhm," She hummed, wiping her top lip as she put down her mug. "Kidd left it for me. It doesn't fit-" Frankie flapped the ends of her sleeves to illustrate the point, making him chuckle. "-but the thought was nice."

"God, I absolutely humiliated myself the first time I met Egan," Rosie shook his head slightly, his cheeks reddening. "Kept talking about flying in my goddamn skivvies, I was pretty sure he only brought me to meet you so that you two could both laugh at the weird new Captain."

She laughed, taking one of his hands in hers, absent-mindedly twiddling his fingers as she spoke. "I'm sorry, you flew in your what?"

"Jesus, I'm doing it again, this is like a recurring nightmare. It gets real hot in Texas, right, so we practised flying in our underwear to stop us from over-heating - but of course I decided that was the best possible story to introduce myself to the Majors with. I mean, Christ, I still don't know what I was thinkin'."

"Well, the first time I met him I absolutely destroyed him in a drinking contest, so he's been offered his fair share of public humiliation."

"That... does help, actually," He admitted, and she grinned, running a hand through his hair and messing up his curls as she rose to her feet. His gaze followed her, tilting his head upwards, a few loose curls hanging in his face. "Where are you going?"

"Funny thing is, I actually have this thing called a job," Frankie teased, zipping up Egan's jacket as she headed for the door. "I have to, like, do it, and everything."

"Wow, that sounds really hard, I'm so impressed," Rosie replied flatly, a smirk curling his lip.

A gust of wind blew a cloud of snowflakes in through the door as she opened it, flipping her collar up to her chin against the breeze as she stepped outside. Lemmons was waiting there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, and his unexpected presence startled her, snow crunching beneath her feet as she jumped, sucking in a sharp breath.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

Ken shrugged. "Thought I oughta give you a minute - didn't wanna interrupt anything private."

Frankie's eyes narrowed, glaring at him as they made their way back towards the hardstand. "Oh, shut up. You don't know what you're talking about."

"Can you seriously look me in the eyes and tell me I'm wrong?"

Turning on her heel, she stared at him, their gazes locked for a long, awkward moment of silence. She gnawed at her lip, saying nothing, until suddenly she broke, scoffing as she stomped away. "Fuck you, Ken."

"Told you!"

Before he could move, she had slung an arm around his neck, forcing him into a playful headlock. Lemmons squawked, wrestling against her unrelenting grip until he dug his fingers into her side, and she released him with a yelp, their hair both dusted white with snow.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It took three days for the weather to subside - three days of icy roads, relentless snowfall, and trying not to freeze on the hardstand. Every day like clockwork Rosie had brought the mechanics fresh, hot coffee, filling flasks with the stuff to satisfy more and more of the ground crews, who were growing steadily more irritable with each inch of snowfall. The pilots were grounded for the duration, but even the pub seemed too great of a trek under such circumstances. The only sanctuary was the small, cylindrical heaters inside the Nissen huts, and in the evenings many took to sitting around them to keep warm.

Early morning birdsong came as an unwelcome sound as Frankie's eyes peeled open, adjusting to consciousness as sunlight streamed in through the window above her bed. A gust of air hit her face as her bedsheets were ripped off of her, and she flinched as she waited for the sudden chill to grip her. But it didn't.

"George. What the fuck," She grumbled, pressing her palms against her eyelids as she sat up, hair knotted and sticking out at random angles on one side of her head.

"Get up. Snow's thawed, they'll be flying today."

The woman had a disturbing knack for always looking immaculate - golden hair falling in perfect curls, red lipstick that never smudged, and clothes that always fitted perfectly. George always told her that it was just that she put in the effort, but Frankie tended to suspect some sort of witchcraft.

"Well fuck me, in that case, why didn't you wake me up sooner?" She huffed, her hairbrush getting stuck halfway through a knotted patch. For a moment, she couldn't quite bear to deal with it, and just let it hang there, weighing down her scalp on one side.

"Thought you should get some beauty sleep before you see off your darling pilot," She teased, her voice taking on a sing-song quality. "Although admittedly, I wasn't expecting you to wake up looking like you'd been dragged sideways through a thornbush," George added, and Frankie let out a cry as she yanked on the hairbrush, dragging it forcefully through her hair until it fell straight.

"I'll drag you sideways through a bush in a minute," She muttered, rubbing at the sore spot on her scalp with one hand as she pulled on her coveralls with the other.

"I just think it took you long enough to finally snog him, you might as well try not to look like a dying cat whenever you see him."

"Oh, piss off!"

Huge meltwater puddles lined the roads on both sides, the grass reduced to muddy swampland, sodden with what remained of the snowfall. Frankie pedalled slowly, careful not to slip, calling out in greeting to the men who passed by in their jeeps, tyres kicking up water, spraying her legs and staining her trousers.

Her breaks screeched loudly to a halt as she stopped in front of a half-melted snowman on the side of the road, the last remaining evidence of the village children's play. Their laughter had filled the air since the first snowfall, the only remedy to the constant, freezing misery. The snowman's head was close to toppling off, its carrot nose drooping pathetically. She couldn't help but chuckle as one of the pebbles they had used for eyes slipped from its perch, landing with a thumb in the damp grass. She wondered if it had snowed back home, if Alice and Jill had made a snowman of their own. As a child, she'd used her mother's old scarf and gloves, the scent of perfume still lingering on them after so many years.

Another jeep rolled past, cutting it too close and too fast, a spray of puddle water splashing all the way up her back, the cold soaking through to her spine. Frankie let out a yelp, her train of thought lost as she flipped off the driver in his side mirror and began to pedal again, resuming her steady, cautious pace as the airstrip came into view.

The Riveters were gathered around their B-17 when she arrived, packs slung over their shoulders as they readied to board. Letting out a huge yawn, Frankie dismounted her bike, letting it lie on the tarmac as she approached, the uncomfortable stick of damp fabric against skin making her squirm. The moment Pappy saw her, he frowned. "D'you just get up? They've run the checks on our bus already, right?"

"Your plane's been ready to fly for days, Pap - I was out here in the snow making sure of it while you lot were warming your feet by the fire," She rolled her eyes, squeezing his shoulder as she passed.

Rosie was visibly fighting a grin as she approached, Bailey shooting him a confused look at his expression as he passed, clambering into the belly of the plane. One by one, the flight crew filed inside, hauling themselves up through the hatch in a series of grunts, until their Captain was the only one left standing on the tarmac. The moment they were alone, he let his smile show, a red tint flushing his cheeks. "Ma'am," He teased, tilting his cap at her as she approached.

Frankie smirked, stepping forward until their fronts were pressed together. "So... what number is this now?"

"Seventeenth mission," Rosie nodded.

"Hm. Not too shabby."

"Why thank you, dear," He grinned, leaning down to press his lips to hers. Just as Frankie began to reciprocate the kiss, a thought popped into his mind, and he pulled back, eliciting a tut of disappointment from her. "Y'know, I had this idea earlier that I'd bring you flowers, but it's too damn cold for 'em. Thought I'd let you know anyway, so you can appreciate the thought."

She hummed. "Duly noted," Grinning, she resumed the kiss, her teeth accidentally grazing his lip as she wrapped her arms around the back of his neck. Hands grasping at her back, his brow furrowed at the sudden dampness, but he figured she might send him away if he ruined the kiss again. He could smell the oil on her clothes, but the scent he had once found acrid now only succeeded in reminding him of her. Even miles up in the sky, hanging perilously over enemy territory, there was something calming in that smell, a constant tether to home.

The pair had been so engrossed in their embrace, that they had failed to notice Pappy reappearing through the hatch, sent to retrieve something they had forgotten in the jeep. But the moment his feet hit the tarmac, and he took in the scene before him, he froze, releasing a sort of strangled grunt that alerted them to his presence, springing away from each other, hands raised to wipe any evidence of the other from their mouths.

Wide-eyed in a mixture of shock and horror, he spoke in angry whispers, closing the hatch most of the way to muffle the sound. "Are you kidding me?!"

Rosie held up his hands as if begging for mercy. "Look, Pappy, I was gonna tell you, it's just-"

"I owe George so much money," Pappy huffed, running a hand across his brow.

Frankie frowned. "... You what?"

"We had drinks last week, we were betting on how long it'd take for... this to happen."

She resisted the urge to laugh, noticing how Rosie seemed to be suppressing a smile. "George already knew about this last week."

His expression was horror-stricken, face growing ever-redder with every second that passed. "... Are you fucking kidding me?!"

Rosie let out a chuckle. "I think you just got scammed, Pappy."

Brow furrowed, expression contorted in fury, Pappy muttered to himself in indecipherable fury as he marched over to the jeep, retrieved his forgotten cargo, and stomped back towards the plane, pausing briefly to interrupt his incensed murmuring. "Happy for you two. Or whatever," He sighed, waving a hand in their general direction as he failed to meet their eyes.

As soon as he was safely inside the plane and out of earshot, they collapsed into laughter, his utterly outraged frown seared into their minds. Rosie wheezed as he caught his breath, "I think George is using your friendship for evil," He pointed out, succumbing to laughter again as Frankie let out a cackle.

"I am not letting her collect on that debt," She shook her head, face flushed red, cheeks creased with a smile. Frankie looked up as she felt his hands against her face, palms cupping his cheeks as he brought her face to his, their foreheads simply resting against each other's as their breathing slowly returned to normal.

"I will see you later," He spoke softly, the tip of his nose brushing against hers.

"Yeah, you better," She reached up, straightening his tie. "I'll be really pissed off otherwise."

"And we can't have that."

"Nope."

With one last smile, Rosie pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose, and Frankie scoffed as he pulled away, wiping her face with the back of her hand. He smirked to himself as he climbed up into the plane, arms burning with the weight of his body as he hauled himself up through the hatch. Navigating his way through to the cockpit with ease, he slid into the pilot's seat, feeling Pappy's gaze burning into the side of his skull.

"...Yes Pappy?" He asked after a moment of silence, his co-pilot shaking his head side to side, never retracting his penetrating stare.

"I fuckin' knew it."

#masters of the air #masters of the air oc #masters of the air fic #rosie rosenthal #rosie rosenthal x oc #ken lemmons #pappy lewis #oc: frankie #oc: george #fic | i'm your man

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1-800-cr33py · 7 months

Text

PUSH ME TO THE EDGE

Ghostface x AFAB!Reader

Content Warning: Dub-Con, p in v, outside sex, Ghostface, heavy-ish nsfw, Ghostie is a prick he gets double warnings.

NSFW BELOW <3

Autumn, one of the most bearable seasons within the accursed Entity’s realm, or realms in all actuality. The crisp air, colorful leaves, hazy skies. It would be picturesque if not given everyone’s..circumstances. Especially your’s. Poor little thing.

“ Smile songbird! C’mon won’t you give the camera that award winning smile?” Danny all but cackled, his arm raised with that goddamn camera flashing with every still he took; he returned his attention to you, a squirming mess of wetness and need posed prettily in his lap, legs spread as he almost brought you to the edge once again. This sick cycle was maddening, torturous and fuck did you love it. You loved aching for him, needing him to bring you the simplest of things you could’ve easily brought yourself had he not spoiled you rotten.

“ I said fucking smile. “ Danny deadpanned, his tone flat, low.

Threatening.

A whine erupted from your throat as he retracted his fingers from your sopping cunt to force your chin upward, your wetness staining your cheeks as you gave the weakest smile one could muster, your lover shaking your head as he continued his degrading ramblings into the camera. You were far too dazed to care, simply nodding along with the occasional whine as his hand returned to its spot between your thighs. Your hips jerked as he lay a heavy handed spank onto your clit, Danny cackled, shoving his face into the nape of your neck, your were sure his stubble would leave some kind of mark by the end of this. Danny would leave you like this if he so wished, hell, maybe he’d fuck your throat until you couldn’t talk for the next few trials, or maybe he’d just rub one out, leaving his cum staining your face and an order to not clean it up. You’d do it, anything to keep him appeased, entertained. He brought you to heaven so many time despite being a creature from the deepest depths below Hell itself. A hand chosen by the Entity, graced and cursed alike with her favor and now here you were, a simple toy for him to play with in his downtime.

“ Get out of the pretty head songbird, I ain’t done with that pretty ass yet. “ Danny mused, his fingers a torturous pace by now, your orgasm ebbing away. A guttural whine of need left your mouth, this game had been going on for how long now? Hours? Days? Weeks? Time was such a fickle thing and he seemed to have enough of it to continue this. You could feel his hardness through the rough material of his pants, feel his sharp thrusts against your back every time you moaned his name.

He wanted you just as much if not more.

Danny smiled against your neck, the flush skin littered with hickies and bites alike, though his hand didn’t return to your cunt, instead he lay the cold tips of his fingers against your clit, soft circles leaving your already trembling legs twitching. He cooed sweet nothings, how this was the only way you’d be cumming tonight, his sweet, obedient little girl.

His songbird

The circles turned into slaps, ever the sadist Danny was.

“ Oh dove don’t tell you you thought I was fucking bluffing? “ that earned an especially hard slap, lurking forward as you cried. Fat tears slipping down your face. Oh you sweet thing, always so plaint and ready for anything he throws your way.

So needy, so sweet. It’s a shame really it is. Such a sweet dove doesn’t deserve to be treated this way, but you wanted this. Wanted him. Now here you were, going through this endless cycle of need as the leaves and twigs dug into the back of your thighs. The cool air leaving your already sensitive and bitten nipples pebbled. Your wetness dripping down your thighs and onto the ground below. The scent of sex, Danny, so heavy and thick in the air one could cut it with a dull knife. Yes. Yes this is what you wanted, The excitement, the depravement, oh gods above this is what you’ve dreamed about. Your dull life now filled with as much excitement as one could need. Now all you need to do is hold it. Hold it and he won’t spank your ass purple. Don’t be disobedient now dove, you’ve come so far haven’t you? You want to be good for Danny right? Want to be his good girl, his best girl? Then hold it. Don’t even think about cumming until he give you permission, and even them

Beg.

#1800cr33py #reqs open #dbd x reader #dbd smut #danny johnson #dbd danny johnson #dbd jed olsen #ghostface smut #slasher smut #ghostface #requests are open #1800cr33py’s kinktober #kinktober #mask kink #maskedmen #mod 800

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willownwisp · 3 months

Text

starry skies, blue eyes

ii. loving you and the little things you do. (re4r!leon x gn!reader)

author's note: no proofread i work and die alone. i write and called it a day,,, hehe,,, hurrah for second entry of leon valentine's advent !!!! this is actually two parts bc the fic on the third day follows the events after this fic. <3

cw: SFW, SILLY IDIOTS IN LOVE !!!!! part 2 of ree's leon valentine's day advent.

The baby blues melt into pink hues against the watercolor bloom skies as the sun slowly sets.

Leon presses a kiss to your temple as you both hike side by side to the camp site.

"Stay close, baby. It's getting dark soon. It's my bad, we should have gotten here earlier."

You blush and shake your head, it's not like he was at fault. Leon is a man of action, ask him what needs to be done and it is done. Perhaps it's drilled into him to obey and follow orders, or that after a turbulent run as a DSO agent, he just wanted to get away. Desperately so that the minute you impulsively chatter how romantic it would be to have a camping trip, he's on his ass getting ready that same day.

"No, lovey. It was spontaneous anyway. It's kinda more romantic, yeah?"

You giggle at him, linking your arms around his thick ones as it flexes underneath your touch as he guides you to the spot.

This playfulness earns you a sigh from him. Not one out of frustration, you know him. Know how his trauma operates in the way that there is a small cork in his heart that needed a bit loosening up before he shows his tenderness, it was a sigh of fondness from him as he pulls you close.

"Of course, baby."

He'd reply with a half-smile because you're adorable. The light to his life that seeps warmth in the cold crevices of his being. There was something in your spontaneous nature. Your laidback demeanor, and playfulness that had lured him in. A breath of fresh air.

It was almost night after that small hike, and you're currently faced with your mortal enemy.

Forgetfulness and a knot. A freaking knot.

You wanted to impress Leon by offering to be the one to set up the tent as he leaves you for a little while to gather wood for the fire.

How hard could it be to set up a small two-person tent?

You ask yourself, and this was your downfall.

Upon Leon's arrival, bringing in wood for the fire, he sets the wood down to roll his neck before removing his jacket. His muscles flexing underneath the fabric of his muscle fit turtleneck and you gawk at him like a horny teenager while pretending to be busy "reading" the manual for the tent.

Leon turns to you, oblivious to the fact that you were eyeing him.

"Do you need any help, baby?"

He asks, blue eyes and the softest gaze and fuck if he isn't the prettiest man on earth.

"Psh. Who? Me? Nah, I can do it lovey. People used to ask me for help with these you know. I'm like an expert."

A bald-faced lie, and you even had the audacity to throw a boast. In your defense, you do have the experience. The faint memory of your childhood suggests you do.

"I used to be a Scout, you know."

You give him a wink as a reassurance and he chuckles, an amused smile graces his lips as he pets your head.

"Wow, I didn't know I was in the presence of a camping veteran. I'm in your care, baby."

He replies with a playful wink, matching your energy before he turns to start the fire, busying himself with lighting up the wood and setting up the camp site.

Meanwhile you stew in the fact that you're screwed, and yet instead of helping yourself, your gaze wanders to that of your boyfriend.

You've always known that Leon is dependable. He's brilliant like that even if he doesn't see it. That seriousness in his sapphire eyes, the way he moves around to check for any hazards and dangers around the camp site. He was walking all over, completely engrossed with his tasks. Setting up the portable mini gas stove on the ground. You were just… staring.

You've always known you love him, but sometimes there are moments when you look at a person and that feeling of love washes over your being, because that's him. That's your boyfriend. The only Leon in the world, there with you. In this space, breathing the same air.

Your reverie is cute short when he calls out to you.

"Baby."

"Huh?"

You respond quite taken aback and Leon quirks his eyebrows at you.

"Are you okay? I've been calling you. Is there something on my face? You seem occupied."

He asks and you clear your throat before shaking your head to try and find your voice.

"Oh no, just… nothing."

You clear your throat again, but Leon's eyes narrow at you.

"You don't know how to set up the tent, don't you?"

He asks with a playful smirk on his lips and you respond with an over-the-top gasp of horror.

"Why I never!"

You huff and turn to tug on the little poles on the tent.

"I swear I still remember how to tie my knots!"

You exclaim before Leon looks at you and just… laughs.

A laughing Leon Kennedy is a treat, because you get to see him throw his head back in laughter, his dirty blonde hair delicately framing his pretty face and from up close you could see the mole on his neck. He was always so majestic.

You blush in embarrassment, but mainly at the fact that you were absolutely whipped for your boyfriend you can't help but admire him a like a living artistic sculpture.

"Baby."

He continues after he laughs, his arms wrapping around your waist as he hugs you from behind.

"You don't even need knots for that, all you have to do is put the poles in those holes."

He grins, looking down at your pouting face before snickering and kissing your cheeks.

"Aww, is my baby upset?"

He asks, tilting his head to get a clear view of your sheepish face, now blushing and huffing at him.

"Come on my Scout, let's put this up together yeah?"

He pulls away from you to give you a boyish grin, the look in his blue eyes is enough to get you to soften as you pick up the poles, with present pout.

Leon looks at you and he melts at how adorable you are.

Perhaps this is what makes life a little more light and a little more bright. The small things like the way you pout and the way you're already red-faced at light teasing. He doesn't say a word but only grabs your chin to plant a chaste kiss on your lips.

Short and sweet as he smiles.

"I love you. Let's go on camping trips more often."

You smile at that and nod. For Leon, this is what makes life bearable. Silly moments like this and the love that you two share.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon x reader #leon x y/n #leon x you #resident evil #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon s kennedy fluff #ree valentine's day advent

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