#mild fluff

[tarjapearce]

Bad Teachings (Pt. 3)

Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

WARNINGS: Sexual language, Adult situations, mild fluff, relationship building, slow burn, mild fluff, Miguel being a sly mf.

Word Count: 5k

Pt. 4

If there was something that came on Miguel's mind to describe teaching life was chaotic. What initially started for shits and giggles, was soon consuming all of his time. Peter B. Parker, someone that reluctantly had earned a spot in his life, had convinced him that he was good enough to teach and that college was under staffed.

He wasn't wrong, however Miguel had underestimated how much of a headaches he'd be constantly having . Students cried for a second chance, some classes were a pain in his ass since half the students, female mostly made sure to always pull at his patience strings.

Something he was sure he ran out in those few semesters he worked teaching. And then sexual content started to appear in his institutional email, direct number. Sure some of the students were bolder than others, but mostly unremarkable.

It had turned more annoying than anything. He had changed his number twice, even changed his teaching methods to have a bit of peace. It worked for a semester, but it got back at him again. His blocked contacts list was bigger than his own true contact list. One of the reasons he turned even more strict.

He had to take some weeks off to rearrange personal matters, The administration department called in last minute for him to cover up Peter B. Parker the last couple weeks of the semester, due his wife being on maternity leave.

It was kinda surprising for him to find a few couple senior students in the class. You among them, grades excelling in mostly of the classes, theory and some workshops specially, but average in those that implied maths and of course his class. He chuckled at the thought that you would eventually would ask for his help.

He counted the days as he had noticed you making up your mind in whether approach or not. It took you a week to stay after class and finally ask him. For once someone wasn't ugly crying before him with a made up-last second excuse. He could see honesty in your eyes, and of course sleepless nights.

He could see how you refused to crumble before him, wich amused him to no end. Of course he had said no just to test your determination. Five extra was a measly thing you had asked for in comparison from other students. And when he found you at the library, about to breakdown, he had waltzed in like a savior, and you gladly took the chance like a heaven sent gift.

Your happiness suited your features, it made your cheeks rosy and you to look a bit more alive. He more than anyone understood the sacrifice that college implied. And for you, social life seemed the perfect tribute. He rarely saw you on the parties in the common area.

It wasn't like you were some sort of special snowflake, or not like the other girls, hell, he had also sacrificed the little social life he had when he was practically a few weeks away to finally finish college. You had your priorities set, and that was something he admired in someone.

His train of thoughts however stopped at the sight of you, leaning against the wall as you made out with a student that certainly was up to no good. Maybe you were celebrating a small victory in another class. Kissing seemed natural on you, your lips melded so well with the young man's. It was odd to see you acting like a carefree student.

And then the video happened. He was on his bed, ready to sleep when his phone chimed in with a new message. His eyes squinted upon reading the caption 'For your eyes only' as the video uploaded. Your name on the top made him swallow thick, he pressed play.

His eyes widened as the video kept going, he cleared his throat as the tightness in his sweatpants grew enough to trap his manhood. It was a side of you he never thought to be a witness off. Of course alcohol was the culprit of your mistakes, and the whole show you were giving.

You taking your slicked fingers to your mouth was the breaking point for him to replay it again, girth in hand. Disappointment disappearing with each stroke he gave himself, pumping at the rhythm of your moving hips. But it wasn't enough.

You avoided him like the pest itself, and as much as the thought of confront you about it sorta displayed, he didn't press the situation further. Your attempt to make things right merely had entertained him, but he mentally praised you for being sincere. His restrain for actually indulging on the power that you, without knowing had invested him in, was hard to keep.

He didn't know if you were actually teasing him or you seemed oblivious at everything, as you waltzed in with a suit that made him throb. His eyes drifted Ocassionally to the pair of thighs you had caged in a skirt that snugged your figure. Plump, supple that looked perfect as ear mufflers.

He wasn't blinded to your female charm (Something you didn't dwell too much in), he just wanted to see past that to see what kind of person was underneath  the outside.

You were stubborn to a certain level, kept your moral compass in check, persevering, attuned with what you wanted, ambitious, polite, a good girl. He felt terrible for such thoughts. Almost ashamed of himself. But once you granted him permission there was no turning back.

It all was way too tempting, too forbidden to ignore, not when he had the biggest moral proof before him. He failed miserably. You made him sin in a way he never thought on doing at his age. Never he had felt so empowered, so desired, so needed, so in control.

And then you left. You left him, or so he had thought. He seeked relief in others but it didn't sate the feeling. Something was off. But eventually he learned how to live with it. He quited college and returned to Alchemax.

A couple months later the universe seemed to listen as he released a breath upon seeing you, trying to reach for a cereal box. He couldn't help but wriggle an explanation on why you had been gone out of his radar for such a long time.

"I was robbed. Lost a bunch of information, including your contact."

He didn't see any hidden lies, just a feeling of contempt to see him again, among nervousness of course. He loved the way you flustered whenever he was too straight forward. Your charm and beauty had only increased, to his eyes. And when you showed up in his home, he'd be lying if he didn't want to take you right in the spot.

The feeling he had missed for a long time, returned. But contrary to the previous encounter, he wanted to savor each moment. Take the time to indulge you. Something that you weren't used to, evidently, by how fast you were drinking your share of wine and how rosey your cheeks grew with every gentle and complimenting word that came out his mouth

Endearing

The way your body reacted to him, gave him a new dose of what his body had ached for. Contact, warmth from something else that wasn't his hand. You never failed to amaze him at what he could provoke on you.

You were the first one in falling asleep. Unkempt hair sprawled all over his pristine beige pillows, absorbing his scent to be replaced by yours.

He couldn't help but to snap a picture in case his memory forgot such image of you in the new sea of stress approaching on his work. Waking up to find your back facing him made him chuckle as his eyes roamed your figure. You made sure to not trespass his own intimate space and remained on your side of the bed, tangled in his sheets.

Such vulnerability displayed before him made him smile with a bit of fondness, relax even. You trusted him enough to fall asleep on his own bed. He got up to prepare your reward, for gifting him such thing as your time. It had been a while since he ever woke up like this.

Gorgeous woman next to him, naked, a wonderful night spent, and a delicious breakfast to enjoy with the promise of a next time.

---------

After arriving from Miguel's home, you parked your car in it's usual spot and got through the elevator. A lady jumped in with you, holding a box with some kitchen gadgets, as she gave you a discreet look but smirked to herself

Of course she'd stare, your hair was damp, and you were dressed just like you had escaped from a millionaire's affair.

You pressed the third button, keys tinkering at the action.

"Good night, aye?" She mumbled, and your cheeks flared up. Her British accent chirping in the air. She was black, Her dreadlocks neatly combed in a large bun as some white strands poked out. She wore combat boots, black sweatpants and a large hoodie, her left wrist adorned with a mild studded leather bracelet.

You just cleared your throat, unable to look at her in the eye. The elevator dinged and the doors slid open, she was the first one in leaving. She opened the door of the first apartment, some boxes littering the entrance. A tall, black, slender young man with the funkiest hair you'd ever seen, peeked out to retrieve the box from the lady's hands and then closed the door.

New neighbors

You followed at the end of the hall, and finally, the privacy of your apartment welcomed you. Going to your room, you immediately wiggled out of the dress and put on sweatpants and an oversized thick shirt. Then, blow dried your hair.

Just got home. Thanks for everything.

You pressed send to Miguel. The seen confirmation appeared in.

The little emoji made you smile.

----

Work had been the so ever good distraction through the week from your plaguing thoughts about certain grumpy-looking geneticist. Besides the always mind blown gut rearrangement you had from him, you had actually enjoyed his company.

The way he had treated you, listened intently at your storytelling about the robbing, and other mundane things, The way he was always calling you Hermosa in that smooth spanish-speaking voice, made your skin crawl. But there was something that didn't add up.

As your teacher, Miguel O'Hara was brutal, He took no shit from anyone, hated the class clowns, and his due dates were always respected. He didn't leave much homework but every assignment always costed a good chunk of the grade. So ever serious with a scowl on his face. Why he'd help you out was still a mystery even to you.

You had arrived to your dorm room soaked, Legs feeling like jelly, shivering from the pouring weather. It was as if the rain itself had washed away the remnants of your previous sins. For once you were glad your roomie stuck to her own business and didn't question anything. Just giggled mirthful at your current state.

You chuckled at the memory

After the graduation ceremony he had gone out of sight, despite you giving him a blowjob an hour ago, you wanted to properly thank him and bid your farewells. You spotted him talking to the Suma Cum Laude students' parents, as your own called to celebrate.

You didn't know anything of him but two months later, against all your reasoning as to why he'd keep you in his contacts, you got a text from him.

"Hey, princesa"

And things just snowballed from there. There was a pattern in his text you could figure out, the longest and spiciest conversations you had were around finals, probably he seeked relief from the constant stress he faced. You had sent him enticing photos, even got you a set of lace and tulle lingerie in lilac for him to see.

You had liked, a bit too much his attention, admittedly.

He had told you how he was being considered by the higher ups for a higher position in college. Then, you got robbed and lost all contact from him. Some numbers had been saved in the sim card instead of the cloud storage. His was in the sim card.

The phone was blocked and soon you got another one temporarily. Took you a couple of months to finally find a job an hour away from your parent's home. The first months on your own almost deterred your mental health since you were busy trying to furnish your apartment with the basics, paying rent, paying phone bills, and when you had what you considered enough, you started saving up for a car.

Your 27th birthday gift

And now, not only you had found him in the same isle in the supermarket, but the two dined and wined together, only to fuck to your hearts contempt later. And so a new dilemma was born. Would it be too much for you to ask him out for lunch?

Now that he had retired from teaching to go back to a super job for really smart people, it was like he was someone else entirely. He was flirty yet managed to keep his so ever serious composure, demanding within reason, quite the gentleman and polite, but he wouldn't hesitate to put anyone in their place or call out someone on their bs.

Paycheck was around the corner, and you could afford to splurge a little. Besides, you wanted to know why he had helped you among some other things you actually never had the chance to really speak about.

What's your favorite food?—

You sent the message, something you had debated ever since the morning you got to work. And almost four hours later he replied

—Not a picky eater, actually. Why?

You sighed as your fingers prepared to type but stopped as he was writing again

—Oh, you wanna take me out?

Your face flushed, as you dropped the phone to hide yourself in your hands. Thankful that he wasn't around to see your embarrassment.

Fuck.

Sighing, you gathered your bearings and typed.

Actually, yes. I do. —

—Cute. What's the catch?

Of course he is fucking clever.

No catch. Just us eating and catching up. —

—Thought we did that already?

Shit. Your heart gave a sudden twist and your lips pursed.

Of course it was too soon for that...

It's fine if you don't wanna. Truly. Just wanted to know a couple of things I never got the chance to ask. But never mind, Read you later . . —

With a sigh, you put the phone away, and kept working, trying to keep your mind busy from what it felt a blatant rejection. Your phone however, buzzed an hour later.

— Such drama. Where you wanna meet up?

You blinked a few times and did a double check on the number before typing. Almost feeling stupid.

Saturday at Magnolia's, 1 pm.—

-Make it at 2. Have some extra paperwork coming in.

Gotcha. See you then. —

He had agreed. Gulping down a squeal, you finished work and went home.

------

Usually, during the weeks you barely talked since work consumed each other's lives, It was mostly you spamming him with random things to either annoy him or make him laugh. He occasionally reacting to terrible science puns.

This weekend felt different, special even.

It's just lunch.

Your mind reprimanded you, as you were picking an outfit. You liked to dress up, mainly for yourself since your first post debt paycheck was splurged in clothes from a popular shop online, to change your old and borderline tomboy-ish closet.

You liked to think it was a post college sort of glow up. Exploring your own femininity ended up being fun. Fashion sense wasn't top notch but you made sure to always look good. Something your job required from you as well.

You decided for a pair of brown, high waisted pants, cream ankle boots, matching cream button shirt, and a brown gingham jacket. Along a white handbag. Some makeup, and perfume.

Clock ticked 1 pm, and soon you went out the door. You saw the same young man from before closing his own door, then heading for the elevator, you rushed to get in, he prevented the doors to close completely.

"Thanks."

He nodded your way.

You smiled up politely at him, Now that you actually had a proper look of him, You could see he had an assorted set of piercings in his face. You had wanted to pierce your ears some time ago, but due busy life the idea escaped.

"You new here?"

The young man nodded, a guitar on his back, hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket.

"The Boss' idea." His tone flat

You blinked at him

"Mum, I mean."

"Oh! Heh, well, hope you enjoy your stay. Neighbors stick to themselves mostly of the time but are willing to help if you need them. Just avoid the Karen in the 3C."

He chuckled

"Thanks for the tip, runway girl."

"(Name)"

"Hobie."

"Love your style"

"So do I" You both chuckled

"See ya."

You waved as he got off the elevator and you headed for the basement, to get your car.

----

You arrived fifteen minutes early, got seated near the balcony on the second floor, in the further table. You went for a rose lemonade in the meantime Miguel arrived and took a look at the menu. Your phone buzzed five minutes before two pm.

—Where are are you?

Second floor, balcony on the right. —

Minutes later he showed up, beige button shirt, rolled by his forearms, green vest snugging his torso, lenses on his face and green dress pants with a black belt. A white lab coat on his hands. He put a small briefcase in the lone chair and sat across you. You couldn't help but notice some women glancing his way, some discreetly, others unabashedly.

"Hello"

He grunted in response as he sat. He looked grumpier than usual.

"You ok?"

"Just tired."

"Right. Sorry to make you come here after work."

"You apologize too much."

He asked for a simple mint lemonade and rubbed his face.

"I wasn't sure to invite you actually."

"Being brave, are we?"

"I didn't want to look, uh... clingy or desperate."

He raised and eyebrow and chuckled

"Qué adorable"

"But, seeing you here makes me feel glad I did."

"Place looks nice. Some things have changed."

"Wait, you've been here?"

"Had a couple of work meetings before, and some dates too, steak is great."

You gulped and sipped your lemonade. His eyes were set on your form and the sudden, brief tension you went on due his words.

"Good dates, I hope"

He shrugged

"They could've been better. Anyways, you look good. As usual."

"Thanks" it was a bit too curt than you actually wanted it to be, but sighed.

"Well, how was work?"

"What do you wanted to know?" His tone impatient. Surely had been a difficult day on his end. It kinda made you guilty for inviting him over.

Awkward

You rubbed your neck, and tore your gaze away from him. The waiter brought his lemonade and you both ordered. A well done steak with veggies and mashed potatos for him, a mushroom soup for you.

He sighed quietly and straightened up. His frustrations sometimes got the best hold of him, and they lashed out as too straight forward questions or anger. Clearly it had bummed you a bit. You were just trying to have a good time with him. He was making it difficult. He rubbed his neck and looked at you.

"Guapa"

"I just wanted to know a couple of things, if that's ok. You can go after"

He frowned and rolled his eyes

"Kinda concerns me the type of men you're mingling with, if you think I'll leave you here alone and be an asshole about it ."

"Well, you aren't exactly the most patient man on earth. Plus you kinda look uncomfortable by being here."

"Let's just, start over ok?"

"Fine." you shrugged

"How are you?"

"Ok, I guess. It has been a busy week."

"Same. New projects need to be classified, everyone is depending on me, it's a mess."

"I bet. Did you missed that from this work?"

"Not really. Things would be easier if everyone would do their part.".

"I can relate. Team is good but there is always a few ones that rely too much on us."

"They think you're a good leader. That's why they depend on you."

"Not really, they're just lazy"

He chuckled and sipped his lemonade.

"What do you wanna know?"

"Uh, well, to starters, something I've been wondering for quite a while. Why did you decide to help me back then, on college?"

"Cause you deserved it."

"Oh?" you swallowed as your eyes fixed on him.

"I always checked on my student's records whenever I used to take on a new class. Most were unremarkable, but you tried your best. You had spark. And didn't cry when you needed help."

"So basically you helped me because you were impressed I didn't cry when I asked you for help?"

He snorted, the previous tension melting away

"No, I helped because you were honest and you gave your best till the end."

"And me thinking it was because we... eh, fucked in your car."

He smirked and shook his head

"Not really, that was a bonus. But no, you passing that class is entirely your doing"

Your cheeks burned a little at his praising. It made you feel better knowing that he actually had taken in count your efforts.

"Well, that leads me to a second question."

"Shoot it."

"What did you think when you got the video?"

He gave a low whistle and leaned back in his chair.

"Me gusta que no te andas con rodeos" he nodded with a smile "Well, in all honesty, I wasn't expecting it from you. Many other female students did send stuff, claiming it was accidentally. Thought it was another video of a student showing off her breast for me to see. But when I saw your name on it, and what you did on the video, Dios mío, something had to be done about it."

Nervously you sipped your drink.

"Did you, sleep with any other students before?"

"No. Not my thing really. Not before, neither after you."

You almost grinned and his eyes squinted

"What?"

"Nothing, just feel like a legend. Or I just got too carried away in the moment. Still debating on it."

He laughed softly

"What about teachers?"

"A couple, but nothing too serious."

Your eyes widened softly at him with a mischievous smile.

"Desperate times, huh?"

"Semantics. Do you regret it?"

"No. Sure, it took me by surprise when you made an advance, but no. I don't. How about you? Do you regret what you did?"

"Not a single bit. Or we wouldn't be here."

"Cheers for zero regrets, then." Your glasses clinked and his eyes softened at you.

"Anything else?"

"I actually wanted to say my farewells to you after the ceremony but you were busy. And as much as that one on one session in your classroom was... great, I wanted to be civil enough and thank you. You were a hell of a teacher. Kinda owe my current job to what you and Miss Lyla taught me actually."

Your smile genuine, his breath hitched at your honesty.

"Glad to help."

"Im not buttering you up or stuff, I mean, you were demanding as fuck, a bit too pushy but, It was worth it."

He took your hand and kissed it softly.

"Thanks."

"Now, I wanna know though, What you thought when I stopped replying?"

"That your morals had won you over and that you grew bored of texting me. We didn't talk much really, so it wasn't that much hard to process."

"I did everything I could to get your number back, plus I wasn't sure if you were still at college and I didn't want to compromise your reputation as a teacher."

He crossed his arms and glanced your way

"Bold of you to assume that I care what people think of me."

"It's odd. Just I saw you as my teacher for a time, and it's kinda hard to get rid of that title. I mean, I'm still getting used to call you by your name."

"You better be, guapa. Hate formalities once a line has been crossed"

"Is that so? What if I called you Miggy?"

"Por Dios, No. I'd block you"

You giggled, and soon food was brought.

"Thanks." you smiled at the waiter

"Enough on me though, anything new in your life, or something interesting that happened in this week?"

"Besides new neighbors and a new client for the team, not really. It's boring."

"New neighbors are good?"

"Reserved, but good. yeah. Although the lady's quite perceptive."

"Hm?" he munched on a chunk of meat

"She saw me in the elevator, after I got home. Walk of shame." He smirked

"And they're British. She was all 'Good night, aye?'"

He nearly choked but managed to laugh softly. A sound that made your stomach flip.

"Jesucristo..."

"And today I met her son. Cool looking guy. I'll take my guess and say he works either in a band or a tattoo shop."

"Sounds like a punk."

"Hey, be nice, you haven't even met him yet."

"Neither have you, for real. Anyone I should know about?" He started on his vegetables

Your head shook softly.

"Nope. I was too busy trying to survive on my own the first couple months. I mean sure I met a couple of guys but ended up being ghosted" You shrugged.

His phone buzzed and he groaned in annoyance.

"Hold on." He typed something quick and put the device on silent, before rubbing the bridge of his nose, exasperated.

"Everything alright?"

"Don't worry your pretty head over it."

"Not to be nosy or stuff, but you mentioned that you had extra paperwork incoming"

"Puras mamadas,but yeah."

"What do you have to do?"

"Classify, organize and divide archives."

"That sounds awfully alot like Office Automation."

He stared at you, curiously.

"W-What? Miss Lyla gave me that class. It's also part of my job actually." you gulped, "I was one of the top three. So if there's anything I can help with, count me in."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I mean, You could send me the files so I can work on them at home-"

"That I can't do, some are confidential."

"Ok, uh, what about you give me the disclosed ones, and you work on the confidentials?"

His eyes bore into you, but then he huffed.

" What about tomorrow? "

"You have a due date?"

"Tuesday. But the longer ones are halfway done."

"Do you want me to help tomorrow? We can meet up at your place so you can explain me and do corrections if needed. I'll bring my laptop."

His eyes softened and smiled little.

"Sure, but I can't guarantee you that there will be breaks for fun time."

Your eyebrows raised as you blinked, cheeks flushing

"I-I wasn't planning on it, actually. I promise."

"Eso veremos"

"What?"

"Nothing. Tomorrow then."

"Of course. " You smiled and indulged your food.

-----

"Thanks for the lunch, hermosa"

"Anytime. I'm glad you enjoyed. And thanks for being honest."

"Tu compañía es muy grata, no tienes nada que agradecerme."

You blinked confused

"Uh, What?"

"Nothing" He pinched your cheek softly with a knowing yet lazy smile.

"In any case, I'll let you know the hour for us to meet up"

"Ok. Sure See you."

He opened the door for you and took your hand in his once more, to give a small kiss on it.

"Have a good evening" Your cheeks heated bashfully and you got into the car. You could see his smirk growing as he closed the door and you drove off.

He had a good time as well, your hand's warmth remained on his. He sighed, a new test for him approaching.

"Dame fuerzas para mañana" he mumbled to himself as he made his way towards his car.

------

Qué adorable - How adorable

Me gusta que no te andas con rodeos - I like your straightforwardness.

Dios mío- My God

Por Dios, No. - Oh god, no.

Jesucristo - Jesus Christ

Puras mamadas - Pure bullshit

Eso veremos - We'll see

Tu compañía es muy grata, no tienes nada que agradecerme. - Your company is enjoyable, you've got nothing to thank me for.

Dame fuerzas para mañana - Give strength for tomorrow.

---------------------------

Hope you liked! Still kinda nervous about this chapter. Going from absolute filth to the start of something deeper is sure a challenge. Thank you for reading <3. If you wanna be on the tag list for future works lemme know!.

#miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #x reader #female reader #miguel spiderman #miguel o’hara fanfiction #slow burn #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fluff #mild fluff

[knifedancer]

Winds of Change - Hope Ending

You've selected the HOPE ENDING!

Light angst, implied happy ending.

Go Back | Dark | Salt | Bittersweet

~~~~~~~

Words from broken sentences filtered through the darkness, a familiar voice increasingly tinged with desperation and pain.

“You’re cold to the touch…”

“Could be mild hypothermia from the rain…going to wrap you in my shirt.”

“Don’t be surprised if you find me in a state of undress.”

“Your bleeding has stopped, that’s a good sign.”

“Marinette, I’m going to use my pant leg to bind your head injury…..this may hurt.”

“It’s probably strange to hear… I’ve always looked forward to our spats...”

“…Life would be empty without you in it.”

“Don’t you dare die on me.”

“…your Miraculous cure would be helpful now…”

“God, you shouldn’t have been the one to get hurt!”

“It’s all my fault…”

“…Adrien is going to kill me…”

“I swear on all the Miraculous that Lila will fucking pay!”

“Just keep breathing.”

“…I was such an ass…”

“I’ll keep you safe, Marinette.”

“When this storm passes, we’ll head straight to the hospital and... You’re going to be fine.”

“I’m sorry… I’m so, so sorry… for everything…”

“…we’ll defeat Monarch together…”

“Please…please don’t die.”

“…I don’t know if I’ll ever get to say it but I…greatly admire you…I think I might love you…”

“Please stay with me.”

“Please…open your eyes…Please…”

Marinette tried to push through the haze in her mind, feeling like she was fighting to surface from deep under water. She felt drops of moisture on her face, dully wondering if they were still stuck in the rain. Her eyelids fluttered open, taking in the sight of the blond boy cradling her against his warm bare chest that trembled with each breath he took. Though his eyes were closed, she could tell they were red rimmed and observed the dampness of tear tracks down his cheeks.

‘Is Felix…crying?’ the drowsy girl thought as she mentally tried to move her body, her limbs feeling as if they were made of lead.

~~~

It had been a few hours and Marinette had yet to awaken, his fingers had grown too numb from the cold to check for her heartbeat. She was so still that Felix was sure she was at death’s door. He didn’t know what else he could do for her, so he held her cocooned to his chest in an effort to keep her warm with just his core temperature. “Please…open your eyes… Please…,” he begged, allowing a few new tears to fall. How he still had any left to shed, he did not know. It seemed the well of sadness within him was bottomless. He thanked his lucky stars that he was not anywhere near Gabriel to be akumatized…

Suddenly a small, cold hand brushed his cheek and his eyes flew open in shock where they met hazy, unfocused blue. Felix’s voice failed him as he stared at the girl in his arms. She was alive! – pale, injured, and concussed but alive. And she was awake! Thank heavens!

Her voice came out as a pained but concerned whisper, “Fe-lix…are – are you h-hurt?”

He couldn’t help himself, he started to laugh. Hours of holding her limp, cold body after she took a blow for him…and that was what she was worried about? “I’m perfectly fine, my dear. You’re the one that took a hit to the head. A hit meant for me.”

She winced, her eyelids closing slightly against the dim light of the room they were in. “Ah, I wondered why my head felt like it was split open… I’ve had worse—”

“Why did you do that?!” Felix cut her off, his eyes wild with a mix of fear and anger.

Marinette winced at his raised voice, feeling like she was just punched between the eyes. “It was going to fall on you, I couldn’t…”

His voice dropped to a whisper, his shaky hand cupping her face as if she was something precious, “I was so worried, Marinette. Please don’t ever do that to me again.” Unable to stop himself, he leaned in and pressed a lingering kiss to her bandaged brow, taking a shaky breath against her hair. “You need to stay awake, but you shouldn’t move around too much. The storm seems to be lightening up so we should be able to get you medical care soon.” He positioned her so that her forehead was against his neck, securely wrapping his arms around her once more.

She was only able to hum an affirmative in reply, feeling the exhaustion of the day catching up with her. Groggily she combed through the haze of her memories that seemed to be jumbled together. Her leg injury, the storm, the roof caving in, Lila…and Felix’s voice coming through the darkness. “…did…you mean it?”

She felt him chuckle silently before he answered, “Mean what, my dear?”

“…that you loved me.” The body beneath hers suddenly went rigid and his heartbeat raced where her nose rested against his pulse point. “…that you’d protect me…and you know my identity…”

Felix turned his head as much as he could to look down at her, knowing he could not see her eyes from this angle. “How…”

“I…I heard you…in the darkness…your voice…”

Tikki flew into Felix’s view, staring into his eyes as if daring him to lie; willing for him to tell the truth. He swallowed hard and opened his mouth to reply when Marinette interrupted him again.

“…need to get you…new suit…now that you’re on the team, Argos…” His eyes widened and he opened his mouth to protest. However, any words he planned to say died in his throat as one slender finger wobbly rose into his field of view and weakly poked him on the nose. He blinked, aware of the hand falling limply against his bare chest but was stuck staring down the bridge of his now ‘booped’ appendage in bewilderment.

Duusu broke into a fit of giggles and a smug smile spread across Tikki’s face. What had he gotten himself into?

~~~ Ladybug POV: 6 Months Later ~~~

“Alright, boys, let’s see drill sixty-two today!” Ladybug called out as she settled onto the edge of a roof to watch her team train. With a carefree grin, the former antihero Argos – now known as the hero Phénix – traded playful blows with the new recruit he had suggested for the Snake, Kobra. Their suits taking on golden highlights as their movements caught the light. Felix had drastically changed over the last few months, no longer the troubled and lonely boy that had betrayed them a year before. His scowls had slowly become soft smiles and quiet chuckles around Marinette, still hesitant to fully express his emotions when out of suit or the privacy of her room. He blossomed under the sincere friendship only she could offer.

They had plotted Argos' retirement – with a little help from his unsuspecting and devoted mother – framing a rather destructive akuma for him being trapped in the rubble, Ladybug took the peacock brooch and cursed him to lose all memory of the Miraculous. Wayzz had confirmed that the old temple could do so but that the knowledge was lost with the Order. What mattered was that Monarch had no idea if the Guardians could do so or not. Tikki, for her part, provided a pretty light show from her hand as the 'curse' took effect. Ladybug looked determined while the de-transformed teen's eyes became blank and passed out. Marinette had watched the replay on the news and felt they were rather convincing. Amelia and Felix showed their superior acting skills in the weeks following as they convinced everyone around them to believe it.

This fabrication had to be done to protect him, the few recovered Miraculous in their possession, and their future plans. Chat had become withdrawn due to issues in his personal life and, although no one except Ladybug remembered it, had been akumatized again. Seeing Chat Blanc once more had brought back so much repressed trauma that Argos started spending nights in the shadows on her balcony, watching for akumas, and risking their connection being revealed. He didn't remember being turned to dust by Chat as he defended the shell-shocked heroine but had held her when she could no longer keep the words from spilling from her mouth. Marinette would never forget the grim look on his face paired with the empathetic glow of his eyes as he dried her tears.

An older Bunnyx, one with eyes that spoke of a haunted wisdom, appeared to them soon after the fight and had then cryptically explained that it was time for new holders and new identities... To play these close to their chests and to trust no one, not even the rest of the team, until Monarch could be defeated. Chat had been oddly sad over the loss of Argos, but the young Guardian knew he was still secretly among them. Her hero partner became even more distant, telling her that his home life had deteriorated further, and he struggled to escape to help out in the fight as he was under even more surveillance than before. When Chat did appear for patrol, he would try to bond with the new holders. However, it was still very much a work in progress – especially with the cat hero’s old grievances about his place in the team still dangling over his head like a hangman’s noose. That coupled with some sort of internalized hysteria expressed in sporadic aggressive behaviors that left her concerned he might be approaching some sort of breakdown – concern and a tingle of dread down her spine. Felix seemed angry for the hero, likening Chat's situation to his cousin's...which was understandable after the peacock holder finally confessed Monarch's identity to the shocked bluenette in the privacy of her room.

Marinette had sworn to Felix that they would get Adrien out of that house and from the clutches of his crazed, terrorizing father! Sure, the two of them had not worked out… Ladybug stared off and frowned as she recalled that disastrous period of her life.

~~ Flashback~~

Gabriel had disapproved of their relationship and tried to bribe her to leave. She had steadfastly refused; Marinette had faith that Adrien would stand up for her. However, the teen model, deciding it was more a matter of trust and perceived immaturity, had thrown himself into ‘proving’ to his father and gain his approval. She had watched as Adrien was bogged down with additional extracurriculars, photoshoots, and supplementary lessons. At first, they had still tried to meet up, but planned dates were inevitably canceled or put on hold indefinitely. Lila doubled her efforts in keeping them apart during the day and his bodyguard constantly hovered nearby to whisk him away. However, it wasn’t until she started wearing a feather-shaped sentimonster brooch Felix had insisted on making her for her safety – linked to a necklace he wore tucked into his shirt – that Adrien seemed to distance himself from her at school, followed by his texts slowly trailing off to nothing. The bluenette had explained to him why, the model had claimed to be relieved and understood, however his actions expressed resentment. Her faith in him had been shaken but her hope held on by a thread, excusing her feelings of abandonment and hurt as a mistake.

Marinette had finally gotten the message over a holiday break when a full-page photo spread of Adrien and some copper-haired heiress enjoying a romantic evening together in Italy was published online. Paparazzi had even caught them sharing a kiss on a starlit balcony at a ball. Her denial and that tenuous thread shattered along with her heart. She stumbled against and gripped her balcony railing as a sob ripped from her throat, her vision blurred with tears as she choked on her overwhelming emotions. Within moments a panicked Argos had landed heavily on her balcony, having sensed her heartbreak halfway across the city regardless of the furiously buzzing chain around his neck. He caught her in his arms before her legs gave out, muffling her agonized wails against his chest and whispering words of comfort into her hair until she fell asleep from sheer exhaustion. Tikki had dutifully recounted how the antihero had carried her slumbering form back to her bed and tucked her in.

‘I thought it was some kind of miracle I had not been akumatized,’ Ladybug thought amusedly, ‘now I know it was only because Monarch had left for Milan Fashion Week.’

Felix took it upon himself to confront Adrien upon his return to demand answers. He found out that his uncle had essentially been selling his own son off for monetary favors from investors and the model had gone along with it in some misguided scheme to continue dating Marinette. Ever her stalwart defender, the outraged peacock holder had spelt out just how monumental of an error his cousin had made before storming off to return to her side. The secret bug heroine had not had time to dwell on that information before she was summoned to defeat Chat Blanc, approached by Bunnyx, and began planning a new identity for her ally…

~~End Flashback~~

Ladybug shook herself free from those memories, refocusing her gaze upon the playful sparring match that had devolved into a game of rooftop tag. Phénix launched himself from one roof to another, his indigo-colored peacoat flaring out to reveal the shimmery peach and tan tones of the interior that, in the golden light cast by today's sunset, gave him the same fiery appearance as his namesake. Ladybug watched with a smile as he threw back his head and laughed; his white-striped, blue mohawk shifting in the breeze like a crest of feathers. Gone were the blue tinted skin and magenta-colored eyes, replaced by a half mask over naturally creamy skin. It resembled three peacock plumes whose quills started from the tip of his nose – forming a miniature faux beak – and flared out over his eyes and brow ridge. The ellipsoid pupil of each ‘eye’ feather substituted by his now blue and gold-ringed irises; a delicate t-feather shooting straight up the center to bridge the gap between the two peaks and covering part of his forehead. The edges of his mask seemed to crinkle like a real feather when he smiled or furrowed his brow – an optical illusion his kwami was quite proud of.

‘It’s good to see him smile and laugh so freely,’ Ladybug thought happily, proud of his metamorphosis.

Felix had saved her from the storm in China and nursed her injured form. While his confession had been a shock, he did not expect her to reciprocate and even fully supported her quasi-relationship with his cousin – simply stating that he was happy if she was. Their subsequent friendship felt natural and easy. Argos became a trusted confidant and protector to Marinette, a huge support for Ladybug and Chat Noir in their fight against Monarch, and then became an integral part of the team as Phénix. He had even begun assisting her with the Grimore and her Guardian duties! However, the two teens had grown even closer over the weeks since her heartbreak. Spending almost every evening on her balcony or in her room whispering secrets and pouring out emotions that they had kept bottled up. Comforting, supporting, and commiserating with each other. They had become each other’s ‘safe haven’ where no word, thought, action, or feeling were forbidden nor degraded. They could be who they truly were without judgement, it was freeing! It was in that air of safety that she had watched him blossom into the cordial man before her now. At this point, on the cusp of the final battle against Monarch, she could readily admit that she trusted Felix with her innermost thoughts, her welfare, even her Miraculous…

Thinking back to that horrible day in the rain and his desperate, whispered words, Ladybug’s expression turned contemplative. He had seen her at her best and worst, had saved her countless times – emotionally and physically, and remained diligently at her side as a pillar of unwavering support. Whose gentle encouragement had slowly helped mend and reform her torn emotional landscape.

‘I trust him with my life,’ the spotted heroine eyes met Phénix’s warm gaze for an instant before her lips curved into a small smile. As if sensing her thoughts as well as her emotions, the pale blond returned her smile.

‘Perhaps it’s time to trust him with my heart as well…’

~~~~~~~

Go Back | Dark | Salt | Bittersweet

#miraculous ladybug #felinette #marinette dupain cheng #felix x marinette #marivanily #felix fathom #felix graham de vanily #argobug #cross posted on ao3 #hurt/comfort #mild fluff #New peacock hero #protective felix #hopeful marinette #choose your own ending #HOPE ending #pov felix #pov marinette #tikki #duusu #my ocs #light angst

[thestargayzingetherian]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra) Characters: Adora (She-Ra), Catra (She-Ra), Horde Prime (She-Ra), Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra), Scorpia (She-Ra), Original Robot Character(s) Additional Tags: Canon, Post-Canon, Future Fic, Alternate Universe - Future, Mild Fluff, Angst, Action, Robots, holograms, Killer Robots, Catra Needs Therapy (She-Ra), Well she's already had therapy but she clearly needs more of it, Catra (She-Ra) Needs a Hug, Catra Has Issues (She-Ra), General Catra (She-Ra), One-Sided Catra/Scorpia (She-Ra), Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner's A+ Parenting, Hurt/Comfort, Married Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Poor Catra (She-Ra), Canon-Typical Violence, Non-Graphic Violence, Training, Sparring, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Psychological Warfare Summary:

After some old nightmares of hers resurface, Catra decides to blow off some steam fighting a training droid. (Catradora, Canon, Action/Mild Angst)

#Catradora #Catra #Adora #Angst #Action #Mild fluff #She-Ra #Spop #Fanfiction

[koolkat9]

Whumptober 2022: Day 4

Prompt: NO.4 Dead on your Feet: Hidden Injury || Waking up Disoriented || Can’t Pass Out

Relationship: England + Canada

Rating: T

Word Count: 637

Stay With Me

Arthur tapped his foot impatiently. Matthew should have been back from his infiltration mission hours ago. But he wasn’t, which was why Arthur was wide awake, listening for any sound that would signal his return. He was starting to nod off when someone entered his dugout. Upon hearing the thumping, Arthur sprung up and reached for his gun. “Arthur, it's me,” the intruder whispered, “It’s Matthew.”

Arthur lowered his gun and sure enough, at the entrance stood Matthew. He was leaning heavily against the wall, clutching his side, but he was here. Arthur stumbled off his cot towards his ward. “Christ, what happened to you lad?” He asked as he looked Matthew over.

“I-I’m fine…Just a little flesh wound is all.”

Matthew tried to step forward but his legs buckled. Luckily, Arthur was there to catch him before he fell to the floor. He helped Matthew over to the cot and sat him down. Quickly he took off Matthew’s jacket and lifted his shirt. He found the boy’s side to be a bloody mess, literally. “Oh, God…” Arthur breathed out, “Did you walk all the way across No Man’s Land like this?”

Matthew looked away. “Maybe…”

“God damn it.”

Arthur rushed over to where he kept some spare medical supplies and grabbed some bandages and a cloth. He poured some water from his canteen and started cleaning the bullet wounds.

Matthew slumped forward, head resting on Arthur’s shoulder. “You’ve got to stay with me, poppet,” Arthur murmured.

“I’m…Fine…”

Arthur worked as quickly as he could, cleaning and bandaging the wounds and whispering for Matthew to stay awake.

“There,” He sighed, pulling back, and checking his work. They were a little sloppy, but they would do. “Matthew?”

“Th…Thank you…Dad…” Matthew's eyes fluttered closed and leaned against Arthur once more.

"Matt–" He sighed, hair carding through Matthew's matted tuffs. "Sleep well, love.

—

When Matthew came to, the whole room was spinning. When he tried to move there was a piercing pain in his side. He took in a sharp breath.

His heart was hammering in his chest, he couldn’t recall where he was, only that it was dark, cold, and the stench of death hung in the air. He wanted to scream and thrash and he couldn’t explain why. Nothing seemed right and he felt fear tearing at him from the inside.

“Oh!” A surprised voice came from across the room. The bed dipped under someone’s weight. Matthew tensed. “Are you awake dear?”

The voice was familiar, soft, warm. “Can you hear me Matthew?” they called.

A hand found its way onto his and gave it a squeeze. The young nation groaned.

“There you are. You’re going to be just fine, lad.”

“Dad?” Matthew rasped.

“Yes. Yes, I’m right here poppet.”

Matthew’s vision was blurry, but he could make out his guardian’s messy blond locks and bulky uniform that never fit him just right. Though fear still gnawed at him, knowing Arthur was there made it just a bit more bearable.

“You’ll be out of it for a little while, in pain, but you should be more or less well enough to be up and about by tomorrow or the next day,” Arthur explained.

Matthew nodded, though he still felt scared. For all their healing and revival abilities, getting injured and nearly killed never got easier. He weakly gripped at Arthur’s hand.

“Don’t worry Matthew. I’m not going anywhere.”

Matthew swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.

Arthur’s thumb brushed against his wet cheek. Matthew hadn’t even realized he had been crying until now. “Shhh…Just rest. I’ll stay right here, I assure you.”

“O-Okay.”

“That’s a good lad.”

With Arthur by his side, Matthew let his heavy eyelids slip closed. It wasn’t long before sleep took him once more, Arthur softly humming to send him off peacefully.

#hetalia #hws #hws england #hws canada #royal red bros #whumptober #whumptalia #fanfiction #hetalia fanfiction #hurt/comfort #angst #historical hetalia #ww1 #mild fluff

[thesoulesscollection]

Scenario 2 (the dancing one I think) and taunter 17 with Right and Henry. I am aware this is ridiculous

Hey, I really had fun with this one so thank you for sending it in. My ask box is always open for anyone to flood it. 

I kind of did this outside the box with this one so I hope you'll don't mind and still enjoy it. It's not too serious here mostly comedic 

2) Why are you taunting me? Stop— stop dancing. We’re in the middle of a fight. 

17) “This is stupid. Goodnight.” 

Right grumbles under his breath. Already annoyed as this wasn't going anywhere as he'd initially planned at the start. 

"Why are you taunting me? Stop- stop dancing. We're in the middle of a fight" Announced irritably, Right couldn't believe his eyes at the outright goofiness of the clan's newest recruit, "As your trainer I need to make sure you're prepared for anything. So you can't be doing this" 

"I'm not so don't be so uptight, dude. Just relax with me and have fun. That's what I'm doing and it's working for me?" All the while Henry chuckled out seemingly not caring in the slightest, "And this is a test trail 'fight' anyways. Nothing serious here. Besides, it's working in my favor, isn't it? You can't manage a hit on me" 

It was true whenever Right attempted to throw a punch, the other man ducked out of the way in time with a quick, smooth move. The new recruit is an impressive dancer though his unique moves weren't Right's thing when it's being used against him it got annoying. Henry kept brushing up against him, hips swaying easily with the motion of the wind. Irritating as it was, Right impressed although wouldn't admit to it out loud when watching the man's body move like he weighed nothing in mildly peaked interest.

"Again. This is meant to be taken very seriously, Stickmin" Right exclaimed, eye twitching, frowning deeply when harshly jabbing his robotic finger into Henry's chest. 

"'Ey. What got you so tense? Maybe I can do something then to help you out?"  

"Actually listening to me and doing what you're been told would do me wonders. I'm trying to teach you how to fight" 

Rolling his eyes, Right didn't notice that Henry was walking towards him, a wide, knowing grin on his face then he felt it. A pair of smooth cool hands firm on his hips finally caused him to still. It'd positioned him to lean backwards, eye wide in shock upon getting stuck in an unstable stance as the recruit stood him above. 

"Hm. I could and I will. But this sounds so much better, dontcha think? I saw you were intrigued in how I moved back there. I can teach you if you want?" 

Remaining stiff, awkward, his arms now glued to his sides, Right gulped, unsure to what he should do as he glared over at the other man brushing his auburn red locks from his face,  "I. Uh" 

"The look on your face is cute, Red. I like it" Henry complimented. 

"G-get your. Hands off me" He says in a whisper yet he didn't make the first move rather stayed unmoving, "I. I'll make sure you regret it" 

"Don't seem too confident there?" While running his hands on Right's hips though the recruit didn't plan to go further leaning in, suggestively wiggling his brows, "You're not saying no to it? I can show you some of my moves, yeah? May help you in the long run. Though I can pull back. Stop this if you don't wanna" 

Turned silent, Right looked away, his sun-kissed, freckled face scrunched up in an unreadable expression. Almost like he was contemplating something he's unsure of. Henry's actions are subtle if politely asking for his permission to continue, to teach him to dance, and how to melt the pent up tension. His imagination then went crazy, Henry being soft with him, leading the way, nobody interrupting them as the thief would likely than not at the end pull him in which may lead to more. It made him want to relax for once, allow someone else to be there for him acting as a protective shield. 

"You're thinking about it, huh?"

The one-sided, not too serious argument was seemingly forgotten about by the pair until Right can vividly remember he lightly pushed the man away. Henry wasn't hurt, allowing him to steady himself while he grinned, hands held up to appear non-threatening. 

"This is stupid. Goodnight" 

Feeling his scruffy cheeks, running his fingers down he noted the obvious warmth became unbearable so he hadn't mustered up the strength to face the newbie when making his way to the door. 

"Alright. We can try this tomorrow. Night, love"

His whole face totally engulfed in heat at the pet name, Right immediately wiped his head around, opening his mouth to say something until deciding otherwise, he stomped out, melting into his jacket's collar he heard the man's roaring laughter in the background. 

#Answered Ask #catisteard #Thsc Fic #Ask Box Is Always Open #Asks Are Always Appreciated #Anon Or Not #Thsc Au #Prompt Game #RightMin #Toppat Recruits #Henry Stickmin #Right Hand Man #Thsc Rhm #Thsc Right Hand Man #Humor #No Angst #Dancing #Mild Suggestiveness #Mild Fluff #Fluff #Henry Stickmin Collection

[avatarvyakara]

Have a little fluff on the house—my Muse (as it were) is confused, poor dear, and needs a bit of a break...

203. Visitación

(nf) visitation

“Camilo,” says Félix, a smidgen of annoyance touching his voice, “what did we agree about you not impersonating religious figures?”

Saint Ambrose, standing by the pulpit and holding a candle, looks mildly offended.

“...honestly that’s not the reaction I expected.”

“Seriously, mijo, impersonating Padre Flores is one thing—”

“Um.”

“But an actual saint? He doesn’t even look right!”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I don’t even know where you got the idea from, he has a much better beard in the illustrations—”

“Señor de Madrigal, I think that’s going a bit too far!”

“Er...”

Félix blinks. Come to think of it, the voice does sound a little...ethereal. And for some reason it also sounds Latin.

...in his defence, it’s high noon and they’re in a church with shafts of light coming through the windows. You kind of miss the halo...

Uh oh.

“Santa María.”

“Again, not quite.”

#mild fluff #religious figures #poor Félix #encanto #fanfic #tiles on the roof #one shot collection #felix madrigal #camilo madrigal #saint ambrose #(because in TotR the town is San Ambrosio) #(for the patron saint of candles) #(I have been waiting *ages* to make this joke)

[catsp1racy]

Fic recs #24: Truth or Dare

https://archiveofourown.org/works/41121507/chapters/103075596#workskin

#drarry #getting together #smut #mild fluff

[ash-whimsicalfanfic]

Obsession

Tom Riddle X Fem OC/Reader

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: Mild language, Graphic, Smut, Toxic, Possessive, Protective, Angst, Fluff, Suggestive, Anger…

Prompt: Y/N Black is a mystery to many. She isn’t interested in making friends, only her studies. However, unbeknownst to many, one boy has piqued her interest——Tom Riddle. Little did she know, he had an obsession with her.

Sidenote: I did use some spells from the vampire diaries just for the heck of it. I may do a part two, but I’m not sure if it really needs it. I’ll leave it up to you guys!

Everyone seemed more chattier than usual. Maybe it was the upcoming Yule Ball or maybe it was because holidays were approaching. However, you hated the buzzing chatter, the obnoxious shouting, and all of the crowded halls. You had tried to go to the library as an escape from this madness, but everyone had infiltrated the library even.

You were the Scrooge that everybody was painfully aware of as you stormed through the halls with your books clutched to your chest. If you were a Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Gryffindor, they would have laughed at the irked expression on your face. However, knowing you were a Slytherin strikes fear in many.

Not to mention you were a mystery to many. You were oh so quiet, along with a freakishly amount of smart, and an unearthly amount of beautiful. You chose to stick to yourself, choosing to not make any friends. You instead chose to have acquaintances in case a group project popped up, however you normally managed to worm your way out of that so you could work alone.

That was how you preferred doing things, alone. Other students have given up on trying to befriend you, seeing it as pointless. Guys would still try and ask you out, but their advances failed. They hadn’t noticed that your interest was piqued by a boy already. However, it seemed that he was just like you.

Tom Riddle was a handsome young man with jet black curly-ish hair and dark brown eyes that looked almost black from afar. He was fairly tall and had a lean look. His face was always blank…passive as he studied or walked through the halls or even when he was with his group of “friends”. They were his followers in his mind, not his friends. To anyone else, they saw them as a happy friend group.

You had noticed the things that anyone would pick up about Tom from afar, like his intelligence. Tom excelled in all of his classes, in fact he was tied at the top of the year with you. He too was introverted, preferring to be alone and in silence. For someone as passive as Tom, you noticed things he did. When he was judging something, he’d lean back in his chair, occasionally quirking an eyebrow as if he was impressed or annoyed.

When he was in a rather intuitive or creative mood, his eyes seemed to be a lighter shade of brown and he would get carried away in his journal. When he was thinking, he would zone out on his journal or something in the room.

You noticed that he’d clench his jaw until a muscle there ticked when he got angered. When he was annoyed, he had a tendency to sigh.

“Y/N!” Narcissa calls.

She stood among Tom Riddle and all of his “friends”. Tom’s eyes find you who was clearly irritated. You had made your way through the crowd and head towards her.

“Yes?” You ask.

“Hey, that is no way to talk to your favorite cousin.” Narcissa scolds.

“Who said you were my favorite?” You ask.

“It’s because it is me.” Bellatrix grins.

“Not you either.” You mutter.

“Moving on, have you seen Sirius or Regulus?” She asks.

“I’m not their keeper, Narcissa.” You mutter.

“They said they were meeting up with you.” She says, sighing in frustration.

“Well they didn’t. I need to get to class.” You mutter.

Before you could go, Bellatrix grabs your upper arm in a tight grip. You turn back to her with a clenched jaw as Narcissa steps back, muttering an “Uh-Oh”.

“Leaving so soon, cousin?” She mocks.

“Bellatrix, I’m warning you now to let go or you will regret it.” You warn calmly.

“What will you do? You're all goody two shoes, yet your in Slytherin. I think that dumb hat sorted you into the wrong house.” She says.

You pull your wand free, pointing it at her as you mutter “Stupefy”. You roll your eyes as she flies backwards through the crowd.

“If I wouldn’t get expelled, I would definitely crucio you or use the killing curse on you for your information. However, nothing is stopping me once we graduate.” You say, before turning and leaving the group stunned.

Tom smiles slightly as he watches you walk away, finding himself even more intrigued with you than he originally was. Call it an interest or maybe an obsession at this point. He liked to watch you when he could. He noticed things about you that he was sure no one else noticed.

He knew you were a quiet and mysterious girl, but underneath that “innocent” mask you wore, he knew there was a strong woman with a dangerous mind. You were far from innocent and today proved that more so to him. To anyone else, you were that innocent girl. However, when you let your guard down if you were stressed or angry or irritated, he could see the danger swirling in your (eye color) eyes.

He lets his smile fall, regaining his composure before turning back to his group. Bellatrix was back on her feet, a scowl on her face as Narcissa helped hold her up. He watches as Sirius and Regulus join them.

“What is wrong with you?” Sirius asks.

“Your bloody sister is what is wrong! She used stupefy on me!” She snaps.

“How pissed off did you make her?” Regulus chuckles, shaking his head.

“You both told me you were meeting with her about becoming a follower. Yet, she hasn’t seen either of you all day. So, where were you both off to?” Narcissa snaps.

“Have you seen how mad she can get? We learned not to mess around when she gets mad, Issa. When she is mad, she will take down anyone in her path. We’ve learned how to avoid making her mad. So, you go have that conversation with her because I rather not get crucio’d again.” Sirius says.

“Wow.” Avery mutters.

“She may be quiet and keeps to herself, but Y/N is a ticking time-bomb when you make her mad. She is intelligent, and maybe too intelligent for her own good. She also liked being stronger than others in magic, so that is why she studies so hard. However, because she is so antisocial and introverted, even as a child before Hogwarts, she took her studies serious, so she doesn’t understand fun. She is boring.” Sirius says.

“I bet she hasn’t ever shagged anyone, or snogged! A sixth year and a virgin! That is embarrassing.” Bellatrix cackles.

That further piqued Tom’s interest about you.. He found himself having more thoughts about you, both innocent and sinful thoughts. However, his sinful thoughts changed to the exception of you being a virgin. That made him feel a possessiveness over you he wasn’t quite sure how to feel about. However, he knew that the idea of you being with anyone else was sickening to him. You were his, you just didn’t know it yet.

Your studies past fairly quickly and you were heading towards the Great Hall. You sit at your normal spot, Regulus sitting next to you. Tom sat a table down with his “friends”, however his focus was on you. Regulus gently closed your books, pushing them away.

“Eat, then study.” He stresses softly.

As irritated as you were about him taking away your books, you listened. Tom quirked a brow, finding himself wondering if it was often you got so distracted by your studies that you didn’t take care of yourself the best. His eyes roam over you slowly, noticing the dark circles under your eyes along with the thinning face of yours. So, it was often, he thought.

“Y/N! My favorite sister! How has your day been?” Sirius asks as plops down across from you.

“What do you want?” You ask, sighing as you pushed your food around on your plate.

“Nothing to do with studies I hope, she is taking a break to eat.” Regulus stresses.

You close your eyes as the two start to argue, resting your chin on your hand. You open your eyes when Regulus stands, his voice getting louder.

“Enough!” You snap, the two instantly quieting.

It had gotten the attention of those around your table. You take in a slow breath before letting it out, regaining your composure before looking between your brothers with a blank look.

“You two bicker like a bunch of children. This is our brief moment to be able to hang out, however you both don’t know how to push aside your differences because you both are too hot-headed and irrational.” You rant.

You snatch up your books that Regulus had pushed away from you earlier and stood from the table as you left the Great Hall.

Tom watched you leave before looking between your brothers, before his eyes fell on your plate of untouched food. He puts some food in his bag, going unnoticed and decides to leave himself. He made his way to the library, heading to the forbidden section where he assumed you’d be. He feels a brief moment of pride flare in his chest, right about where you had gone. He clears his throat and you look up from your notes.

“Here. I noticed you didn’t eat.” He says.

His voice surprised you. It was deep, soft and mysterious. He pulled out some food he took from the Great Hall and handed it to you.

“Thank you.” You murmur.

He nods, going to leave and you begin working on your studies again. You sigh as a loud group comes into the library.

“Would you allow me to show you a place I like to go?” He asks, looking back down at you.

“I don’t see why not.” You admit, gathering your stuff before standing.

You follow behind Tom, not quite sure where he was taking you. You knew of his quest to become the Dark Lord. Some of his followers had big mouths, so you heard more than everyone thought you knew. They assumed you were clueless about his current quest and they all were tip-toeing around who would be the one to break the news to you. However, you knew. You knew more than them in fact.

He looks around, making sure there was no other students or professors in the hall before a door appears in the wall. Your lips part from surprise as he ushers you in, following behind you. You looked around the empty room in awe.

“The Room of Requirements…I’ve heard of it and I’ve looked everywhere for it.” You mumble.

“Yes, I searched for this room for awhile myself. I later learned that the room only will appear in great need.” Tom explains, seeming rather smug about finding it.

“The room seems to know you quite well…and you seem to know the room quite well too. Otherwise, the door wouldn’t have appeared because I’m sure my studies are not in great need.” You say, turning back to him.

You feel a heat spread across your body as you catch his eyes on you. The dark eyes slowly trail over you, mapping out your body. His eyes stop on your blouse where you had a few buttons undone since you were alone and had started to get a little hot in the confined aisles of the forbidden section in the library.

He steps forward, closing the distance between the two of you. You look up, not realizing that he was this tall. He puts a hand out and gently grasps your hip before trailing it up your side. He tugs on the middle of your blouse, revealing more of your cleavage, before he starts undoing the remaining buttons.

“That and maybe because I am in great need of you.” He murmurs, leaning down to trail his lips along your neck.

You shiver, feeling a trail of goosebumps being left behind from the ghost touch. His hands find your shoulders where he pushes the robes off before pushing your blouse off along with it. He leaves a soft kiss on your racing pulse, before he pulls back to look down at you.

You were left in a dark green lace bra, and he tsked quietly, approving the way they made your breasts look. The bra seemed to work as a push-up bra, but really Narcissa had gotten you the wrong size this year.

His eyes trail over your stomach, noting the soft curves he would be sure to feel later. His eyes focus on the short school-girl skirt, also Narcissa’s doing. You didn’t fret much about it as you knew you’d wear your robe more often than not. You were wearing knee high stockings with a pair of mary-janes.

“The school girl skirt, hmph, your just asking to be fucked, aren’t you?” He asks, a smirk slowly spreading across his face.

“Tom.” You say breathlessly.

“Leave the skirt on, but take your panties off.” He orders.

He begins unbuttoning his own shirt, watching you. You were frozen in place before you start to work the panties down. He held a hand out, looking at you expectantly. Your shaky hand places the matching dark green lace panties into his hand.

He balls it up and sticks it in his blazer pocket. You watch as his long, slender fingers work his belt off. Your eyes focused on his veiny hands.

“Hands and knees.” He says.

You slowly drop to your knees, turning over, no longer able to watch his next move. You get on your hands, moving so you are on your elbows. You arch your back down, sticking your ass out more.

Tom licks his lips slowly, swallowing hard as he watches you get into the position. He inhales deeply, watching as you arch your back. He puts a clenched fist to his mouth, lightly biting himself, not quite sure if this was really happening. The skirt hid nothing. He could see the big globes that he found himself really attracted to. He never would have taken himself as an ass man.

His eyes trail further down to see your glistening entrance. He pushes his pants off before he gets on the ground behind you. He brushes your hair over your shoulder, before he finds himself tracing down your spine lightly. You shiver unintentionally, however he enjoyed the effect he on you.

“How bad do you want me?” He murmurs into your ear.

“Please, Tom.” You whisper as you push your hips back.

“Pathetic. Do you want my cock or not?” He asks, grabbing a fistful of your hair and roughly jerking your head back.

A breathless moan fills the thick air in the room as a heat spreads across your scalp. He clenches his jaw, feeling himself twitch from the sound he heard. It was the beginning of a beautiful symphony, one he didn’t realize how much he’d become crazed for.

“Tom! Please! I need you!” You cry, feeling frustrated that he wasn’t touching you where you wanted to be touched.

He smirks, gently grabbing your hips. He uses his other hand to guide himself into your dripping entrance. He groans, your walls immediately grasping onto him, suffocating him. You moan lowly, your hands grasping at the stone floor as your eyes flutter shut.

“Fuck.” He curses, working himself in and out of you slowly.

“Tom, please.” You plead, pushing your hips back.

“Is my cock the first one you’ve ever had?” He asks, his eyes burning in the back of your head as he awaited your response.

“Yes! Please, Tom!” You cry.

He couldn’t help the grin across his face. He heard it, but he wasn’t sure if maybe you just kept them out of the loop. But, knowing he was the one to take your virginity was exhilirating to him.

“I better be the only cock you have here. You are mine.” He warns.

“Yes! I-I’m yours, Tom!” You moan as he starts to move at a faster pace.

“I’ll kill any boy who dares to be with you, because you are mine! I’ll punish you if I see you talking to some boy.” He growls, his hips now savagely moving.

You cry for more, your soft and loud moans were music to his ears. He breathed heavily along with you as held onto your hips tightly. Skin smacking echoed in the room and you heard his soft groan which sent you coming. He groans louder as you clench around him, coming around him.

You stood on shaky legs, buttoning up your blouse and grimacing as you feel your shared climaxes slowly leaking out of you. He grasps your chin, looking at you with a stern look.

“Keep it in. I want you to know who fucked you.” He says.

“Tom, I need my panties.” You say as your cheeks flush.

“Find another way to keep it in.” He says, before focusing back on straightening himself out.

You pull your blazer on along with your robes before grabbing your books and hurrying out. You reach the Slytherin common room, Narcissa and Bellatrix looking up from their game of cards. Sirius and Regulus’s backs were to you.

“Oh my god, you got shagged!” Narcissa exclaims with a grin.

“Who was it?” Bellatrix asks.

“Yeah, I’d like to know.” Sirius seethes, taking in your disheveled hair and the hickeys on your neck.

Narcissa looks at your knees to see that they were scraped up, but you choose to ignore your brothers and cousins as you make your way past them. Regulus laughs, yelling “Atta girl!”

A small smile graces your lips at your little brothers comment. He too was protective of you, but he knew you inside and out. He and you were far closer than you were with Sirius. You get to your dorm and think of showering, but then your mind wanders to Tom. Keep it in…

You pull on a pair of fresh panties as you change into your nightware. You found yourself tossing and turning for a long while before you fell asleep. By the time it was time to wake up, you were exhausted. You could sleep in, but that ruins your morning routine.

You go to the shower, grimacing at the burn in your stomach. It was now that you realized you didn’t eat once yesterday. You finished up in the bathroom before pulling on a black lingerie set. You gasp as your door opens and Tom walks in.

“I knew you’d be awake.” He says, his eyes slowly roaming over you and some of the bruises he had made from where he held you still.

“Tom, what are you doing here?” You ask, grabbing a random robe and pulling it on.

“I’ve seen it all, darling. I wanted to tell you no more skirts.” He says and you look at him confused.

“I…Is it because how short they are?” You ask.

“That and the school girl skirt should be meant for my eyes when we are alone. Do you understand?” He asks.

“I…yes, Tom.” You say quietly.

He grins, looking at your neck where you had several hickeys before he leaves. You frown and look at the outfit you had prepared for this morning. It consisted of a school girl skirt.You sigh, grabbing a dark green skater skirt that ended a little about mid-thigh. There wasn’t much you could do about the length of your skirts until you went shopping again.

You grab your button up blouse and your Slytherin tie. You grab the blazer and sigh when you see dust on it. You hang it back up, deciding you will have to clean it later because you don’t have time now.

You pull on your knee socks and mary-janes when there was a knock at your dorm door. You open it and see it was Narcissa.

“I came bearing gifts.” She says.

You open the door and she guides you to the small vanity as she begins to help you cover the hickeys on your neck and jawline.

“So, who was it?” She asks.

“I’m not sure if I’m ready to say who it was yet.” You murmur.

“Did he force you? I’ll make him suffer the worst ways imaginable.” She says seriously.

“No, no, he didn’t force me. I’m just not sure what is happening yet. I don’t know if it merely was just another shag to him or if it’ll turn into something. However, he’s being a little controlling of what I wear, mainly my skirts.” You explain.

“I feel like I already know who this is.” She says, sighing.

“Who?” You ask.

“Tom Riddle?” She asks.

“Oh…how did you know?” You ask.

“Tom is…many things. I don’t know if he is capable of love and a relationship. He is a very possessive man. And I mean to the extent that it isn't healthy. He is ill-tempered and easily jealous. Not to mention he can be obsessive too. I personally think you should put some distance between the two of you and let things die down. I don’t know what his intentions are, but I’m sure they aren’t good.” She explains.

“Alright.” You say quietly.

You were quite sure how to feel. But, you knew Narcissa meant well and you also knew that she knew Tom better than you. You trusted her advice almost as you trusted Regulus’s.

“All done.” She says.

“Thank you, Issa.” You murmur and she nods.

She leaves you to your thoughts and you realize you need to head down to the Great Hall for breakfast. You gather your books and make your way out of your dorm in a daze. You head to the Great Hall and see everyone was already there. You ignore the burning stare that you knew belonged to Tom Riddle.

“Hey, you okay? You seem out of it? And your running late.” Regulus says.

“Oh, I’m fine. I think I’m just in need of food. I realized I didn’t eat once yesterday.” You explain.

“Y/N/N, you’ve got to take better care of yourself. I will start treating you like I did the first year.” He warns.

“I know, I know, and I promise I’ll do better.” You sigh.

“Why is Riddle staring at you? He seems pissed.” He whispers.

“Oh, who knows.” You sigh, briefly glancing at Tom.

Tom was staring at your neck where your hickeys would be, but thanks to Narcissa, they were no longer there. You managed to eat some of your food before it began to make you feel sick. You felt suffocated with Tom glaring daggers into you and Sirius was no better.

“Stop it.” Regulus warns Sirius.

“I want to know who it was.” He snaps, looking back at you.

You clench your jaw, narrowing your eyes at him as you take a slow breath in and let it out. You pull your wand out and keep your hand rested on the table, so you don’t draw anymore attention to you.

“Keep glaring, brother and watch how fast you end up in the hospital wing.” You warn lowly.

“Guys.” Narcissa warns.

“Who is he?” He growls lowly, leaning closer to you.

“Oh shit. Take cover!” Regulus says, going under the table.

You reach forward, grabbing Sirius’s tie and pull him closer as your face heats from anger.

“Astronomy tower, now.” You grit out.

He stands and storms out and you stand as Regulus pokes his head out.

“Don’t kill him please.” He pleads.

You storm out of the Great Hall, wand in hand as you make your way towards the Astronomy tower to see him already there and waiting.

“Who is it!?” He snaps as you both circle each other.

“Sirius, it’s none of your business. Stop trying to act like the older and protective brother. Stop acting like you care!” You snap.

“I do care! You're my sister.” He snaps.

“Guys. Let’s try to keep calm.” Narcissa says as she walks in with her group.

“Yeah, let’s just hug it out and make up.” Regulus says.

“I want to know who has my sister acting like a tramp.” He snaps.

“Oh no….oh no! Oh no! Back up, back up, back up!” Regulus says as he pushes everyone back.

“Bombarda!” You fast and Sirius curses as he tries to dodge the mini explosion you casted his way.

“Confundo!” He shouts, but you dodge it.

“Everte Statum.” You cast, watching as he flies back against the wall, his wand falling in the process.

You walk forward, grabbing his wand before looking down at him.

“Impulsa Animositas!” You snap, gaining confused looks from around the room.

“I…Y/N, have you been creating spells again?” Regulus asks cautiously.

“Again?” Narcissa asks alarmed.

“What did you do to me?” Sirius snaps.

“Say something mean. To any of us.” You say, smirking.

“What the hell did you do to me you crazy bi—ow!” He exclaims after feeling a jolt of electricity go through you.

“Just as I assumed. This spell will zap you everytime you try and say something mean.” You say.

“That’s child’s play you idiot!” He snaps before groaning.

“Hm. This isn’t. Lihednat Dolchitni.” You cast.

His hands find his throat as he try’s to breath. You clench your fist tighter, watching how he struggles more before you wave your hand and it stops. He leans forward, breathing heavily.

“Tread carefully, brother. I have far more up my sleeve than you wish to believe.” You spat.

“You…you will get in so much trouble for creating spells. Regulus and I told you that you need to stop.” He breathes heavily.

“Then keep your mouths shut otherwise I’ll make you suffer in the worst unimaginable ways.” You say.

With that, you turn and walk past the group who seemed shocked. You head back to the Great Hall, gathering your items before heading back to your dorm. You were too upset and riled up to do anything. So, instead you hurry to your dorm and lock the door.

You pace frantically, running your hands through your hair. You let a breath out that you hadn’t noticed you were holding.

“You’re okay. You’re okay. Everything is okay.” You mumble to yourself.

The lock on your door clicks, so you turn and see Tom. He closes the door back and turns to you with that normal passive and cold look.

“That was…impressive.” He says.

“Tom, I really rather be alone right now.” You mutter.

“Why cover the marks I left? I left them for a reason.” He says, his voice hardening as his eyes turn several shades darker.

“I didn’t want to walk around with them showing. People would have said something and I don’t want to deal with that. Plus, I rather the school not know I was your play thing.” You mutter harshly, turning your back to him.

“Who said you were a play thing because I don’t recall ever telling you that?” He snaps.

“Tell me this, Tom. Are you one for commitment? Would you be in an exclusive relationship? Huh, tell me that!” You snap harshly as you turn to face him again.

“I can do commitment. Before, I’d say no. However, for you I am willing to do it. I’m willing to be in an exclusive relationship as you call it. Because I can’t ever get you out of my head! You are all I can focus on! It’s so…so irritating, yet I love it at the same time.” He growls.

“Tom, there are going to have to be some rules set in place if we are to do something. Like the skirt thing this morning. I only wear skirts.” You say.

“Fine. Wear your skirts, well not the school girl ones, however I can’t promise that some asshole won’t end up dead for looking. You are mine.” He snaps.

“Okay, and what about the marks?” You ask.

“You shouldn’t care what anyone says. You never have before, so why care now? I want people to know that you belong to me. I want the guys to realize that you aren’t a possibility anymore. You are mine.” He says, closing the distance between you both.

You look up as his hand wraps around your throat. He tightens his hand and you let a shaky breath out as you clench your thighs.

“You barely know me.” You mumble.

“I know more than you think, darling. You piqued my interest. When that happens, I tend to learn everything I can.” He murmurs, brushing his nose against yours before kissing you softly.

You hum, moving your hands to his hair. You whine when he pulls back, a smirk on his lips.

“What does that mean? How have you learned about me if you just started speaking to me yesterday?” You ask.

“Because I might be a bit obsessive when it comes to learning of the things that interest me. I won’t stop until I know everything.” He says.

There was banging on your dorm door and you sigh, going to walk past Tom, but he loops an arm around your waist.

“Who is it?” Tom asks, annoyed.

“It’s Bella, me and Regulus. Is Y/N in there?” Narcissa says.

“Well go away. I’m about to fuck my girl.” He snaps.

Your face heats up as you cover your mouth to hide your gasp. Narcissa gasps, Regulus laughs and yells for you to get it while Bellatrix throws a fit.

“We are not doing anything! We are just talking!” You exclaim.

“Talking, huh?” He says, quirking a brow at you as he slips a hand beneath your skirt.

You let a shaky breath out as he trails his hand up your thigh. He gets to your underwear, sliding two fingers beneath the lacy fabric.

“Tom.” You mumble.

“Talking and yet you're so wet for me. Do you want my cock again?” He asks, sliding a finger in you.

Your eyes flutter close and he grins widely, loving the way you reacted to his touch. You were the violin and he was the violinist. He played you so gracefully and loved the beautiful symphony that came from your mouth. It was his greatest obsession.

#harry potter fluff #harry potter angst #harry potter #harry potter reader insert #tom riddle #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle angst #tom riddle x you #tom riddle imagine #dark lord #mild language #smut #harry potter smut #tom riddle smut #tom riddle fic #tom riddle fluff #tom riddle oneshot #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x oc #tom riddle x fem!reader #k!nk mention #obsessive behavior #mauraders #harry potter universe #imagine #smut imagine #smut warning

[drabblesandimagines]

Scoot On Over

Leon Kennedy x female reader, established relationship, fluff with a tiny bit of suggestive spice at the end

Leon threw himself down onto the mattress with a relieved sigh – a cliché, but there was nothing like sleeping in your own bed after being away. It had been a mixture of questionable motel beds, a couple of nights in the backseat of the car, another night of no sleep at all and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t on the brink of exhaustion, running on adrenaline until he made it back home to you that evening.

He rubs his cheek against your pillow, inhaling the scent of your perfume and allows himself to close his eyes. Now, he just needs you in his arms for a perfect’s night sleep…

--

“Leon?”

Nothing – again. You’d worry he had stopped breathing entirely if he wasn’t letting out soft snores from where his face was pressed against your pillow. He’d been away on a mission for two long weeks and had arrived home early evening, duffel bag in hand, covered in fading bruises, kisses and wandering hands tinged with weariness despite his obvious excitement to be back home with you.

You made small talk as you’d made a light dinner – get him fed and then you could both have an early night. He didn’t like to talk much about his missions had entailed – he wanted to keep the two things as separate in his brain as he could – but he knew if he needed to talk about something, you’d be there and that was enough.

You’d sent him up to bed first whilst you finished up in the kitchen – you liked to start off each morning with a clean slate in there and it would only take you ten minutes tops to sort, you’d assured him, a cheeky pat to his backside as you encouraged him up the stairs.

He’d changed into a pair of plaid PJ bottoms and a plain white tee, so he must’ve brushed his teeth and then just… collapsed? You place a hand on the broad expanse of his back, giving him a light shake. “Sweetheart?”

The problem is, Leon is broad and tall and currently, somehow, taking up the whole of your double bed. You can’t even see a reasonable space you could try and curl up into against his side and be remotely comfortable, the way his limbs are spread out like a starfish.

“Leon,” you place another hand on his back and give a more vigorous shake. “I just need you to scooch on up a bit, sweetheart.”

Nothing.

You change tact and try and lift an arm, maybe you can get him to roll with a little encouragement, or he’ll wake up? Surely as an agent he’s a light sleeper anyway, what if you were an enemy or any sort of threat?

His arm is deadweight, all muscle - even if you try and lift it with both hands, embarrassingly, you can’t get it even an inch or so off the mattress.

You try and push it inwards so it’ll sit tight against his body, but it just won’t move.

“Leon?” You grab hold of his shoulder and shake it with all of your strength.

“Yeah, baby?” He mumbles.

A sign of life – hallelujah. “Can you move along a bit for me?”

“Sure.”

He doesn’t move.

“Just need you to scooch up a bit for me, handsome.” “Mm-hm…” And he snuggles his face further into your pillow, an adorable smile on his face as he does.

With a sigh, you try and wedge yourself into the space in defeat – maybe he’ll subconsciously feel you and lift his arm up for a cuddle, and then you’d be able to fit a little more comfortably? He did prefer to sleep with an arm wrapped around you, keeping you pressed close up against him, legs tangled together.

After trying out various positions in the hopes of coaxing him into a spoon, a few more vigorous shakes and, finally, a more than playful smack to his backside that achieved no more than a mumble – not proud of that one, but needs must - you admit defeat, kneel down beside the bed and stare at his slumbering face in thought.

He must be utterly exhausted and, despite the frustration of not being able to cuddle up against him after so many nights apart, it is flattering, you suppose, that he must feel safe within your company to allow himself to relax so completely and be out like a literal light.

You lean down to pick up his neglected pillow and press a kiss to his forehead, and grab the throw from the end of the bed – looks like it’s a night on the couch.

--

Leon wakes up slowly as light filters in through the curtains. His body had been aching from his time away, but it seems a night in his bed has set him right. He stretches his arms out, expecting for a hand to brush up against your warmth but is dismayed when he finds the bed empty.

He turns and sits up, cautiously, rubbing the back of his head with a loud yawn and takes in his surroundings, wondering if you’ve just nipped to the en-suite, but the door to it is ever so slightly ajar.

Your phone is plugged in on the bedside table, charging, which is odd – although not glued to the thing, it's strange for you not to have taken it with you if you’d gone downstairs to make breakfast…

There’s a sickening feeling in his stomach when he realizes he doesn’t remember you coming to bed at all, that he had been waiting for you to come join him and…

Hazy memories of you calling out to him?

Fuck.

He jumps up to his feet, dashes out the bedroom and takes the stairs down two at a time, trying to think. He’d left his gun in his duffel bag, hadn’t even taken it up with him, left it by the door when he arrived home last night. Had he been drugged? He had felt exhausted, but he’d put that down to the poor sleep over the last while. Could someone have followed him home last night, drugged him somehow, a tranquilizer, waited for him to be out for the count to swoop in and…?

His heart stops as he sees you lying on your side on the couch, the throw from the bed now twisted around your legs, arms wrapped around his pillow.

Safe and sound, and fast asleep.

He exhales, calming himself for a moment with a chuckle, before kneeling down besides you and tilting his head, awkwardly, so he can kiss you up the lips.

The sensation is enough for you to stir, blinking up at him with a dozy smile.

“Morning.”

“I don’t recall us having a fight last night, sweetheart.” He grins at his joke, but it’s one that falls flat.

“A fight?” You repeat, confused.

“You know, when couples fight, one of them ends up sleeping on the couch...”

“Oh, yeah,” you yawn, sitting up with the slightest wince. “You wouldn’t let me in the bed.”

“Huh?”

“When I came up to bed you were dead to the world, literally star-fished. I tried to get you to scoot up a little so I could get in but it was impossible, so I slept down here.”

“Seriously?”

“Mm-hm, you must’ve been exhausted.” You nod, shuffling around to place your feet flat on the ground. “Lemme make us some coffee… Ow!” You hiss as you stand, placing a hand on the small of your back.

Leon is quick to his feet, eyes wide in alarm. “What’s the matter?”

“I’m okay, it’s just my back,” you rub at the sore spot, the muscles feeling tender. It had been fine last night… “Maybe the couch isn’t the best for sleeping on.”

 You take another step forward, intent on heading to the kitchen, but there’s no hiding the wince from Leon’s gaze. “Oh, baby…”

“It’ll be fine, I just need to walk it off.”

“Uh-uh, come on,” and those muscular arms that were so impossible to move last night are suddenly scooping you up and holding you against his chest as he heads back towards the stairs. “Let’s get you to bed. It’s still early and a couple of hours on a proper, supportive mattress might work wonders.”

You wrap your arms around his neck in turn. “Oh, I know your game, Kennedy.”

“And what’s that?” He replies, nonchalantly as he begins to ascend the stairs, careful not to knock your legs against the banister.

“The other activity you like to conduct in bed, the one that’s not sleeping? I just…” You tense in his arms, looking a little hesitant. “I don’t know if my back’s gonna play ball...”

Leon reaches the top of the landing and smirks, “Trust me - stretches work wonders for back pain, sweetheart.”

He strides into the bedroom and kicks the door closed with his foot.

It doesn’t open again until late afternoon. -- AN: Inspired by my boyfriend actually star-fishing me outta the bed and me having to sleep on the couch x

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi

Comments, reblogs and likes make my whole day x

#ghostdogwrites #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy mild spice

[jojoblessed365]

I want to kiss him. I want to kiss him so badly. Not just his lips, but his face, his dimples, his forehead, everything. My heart beats fast, when I realize that I could do it. I could kiss him. So, I do. I lean over and give him a quick peck on the lips. Just a small taste. He stares at me, open-mouthed.

Richie giggles once again.

Please, other-Rory, don’t be mad at me.

Chapter 05 up now!!!

Dedicated to @rhiawriter for providing inspiration through her fic ‘The Writers’. Also, special thanks to @stellaluna33 for chap 9 of TLAWR, it helped me visualize Logan a little better for this chap!

#jess x rory #rory x jess #lane x dave #jess mariano #rory gilmore #dave rygalski #lane kim #Liz Danes #doula danes #Lorelai Gilmore #book launch #dinner #mild fluff #the calm before the storm

[pigeonpeach]

More Arlecchino Husbandry!

Cw: implied violence or possible violence: FMAB reader! Reader is called mother! Slight yandere themes (not full on though)

summary: continuation of Arlecchino Husbandry with more of a domestic focus

To say the children were estatic to know you would be a permanent member of the house hearth and you are officially their mother is a understatement. They threw a party. Even those you haven’t raised and were already grown when you arrived can recognize your importance both to their siblings and to their father: needless to say you essentially have alot of bodyguards now. Each of those children are determined to keep you safe, both out of devotion and gratitude and because it was Arlecchino’s orders to do so. And so on.

As for Arlecchino she’s quite happy to have you. She keeps you in her office on your downtime, sat nicely on her lap as she goes through paperwork so your presence can keep her calm. Occasionally she’ll press a kiss to your neck. In moments like these you two often don’t speak, rather you may be knitting or reading s book or writting ideas down for fun activities for the kids.

Arlecchino despite her deep affections fory you however is a possessive lover at her core. You’re just so fragile in the grand scheme of things. The children are protectors but if another harbinger decided to pursue you there is little they could do besides awkwardly stand by you. She knows her colleagues too well. She knows they’ll see your big heart as a weakness of hers. She knows you’re her weakness now, and in the eyes of the other harbingers it’s something they could exploit if necessary. So she simply refuses to bring you around them. Besides very few are even good company. The only harbinger you might see is Childe when he is visiting fontaine. He’s friendly to you but respectful knowing the Knave likely wouldnt like it if he was flirty with her beloved. Even so all it took was seeing him in your general direction to make her tense. Shooting him a dirty look as she quickly pulled you to her side and cut the conversation short.

In that case Childe just got glared at and scolded because he is a harbinger, she can’t kill him for something so minor. But if it was someone else who doesn’t have that sort of protection then there’s no guarantee she won’t. I wouldn’t describe this as yandere but simply a part of her job. Again you are her weakness, she cannot risk people possibly taking you from her or using you to get to her. Because that is a legit fear for her to have. So everywhere you go a underling accompanies you. Often the twins. Lynette and Lyney because they’re quite sociable and its easy for you to forget they’re your bodyguards. The children actually are very eager to accompany you because such trips are often like a day out with their mom. Its not uncommon you’ll treat them to lunch and or go shopping with them. This actually works as well because it helps you blend in easily amongst the crowd too. Sometimes you’ll bring one of the actual children with you as a fun activity to reward them for hard work. Often times you take them to get some toys or something special.

These trips are great as well, your motherly demeanor towards Lyney and Lynette often does scare away suitors but if it doesn’t Lyney is quick to intervene. And if the suitor gets aggressive from their rejection then its nothing they can’t handle. If the guards aren’t available then they could always just… kill them you know. Granted you often discourage that with the excuse of wanting to avoid legal troubles. But its a possibility.

Arlecchino herself hardly takes you to balls, she is fiercely loyal to you still, even refusing to dance with others for respect for you. This is both because the kids don’t like when you leave, and again: she doesn’t want you to become a target or too infamous because of her. She wants to keep you safe and protected.

As for gifts you can trust she won’t let you down there. She is a incredibly observant person. She knows the exact flavors, styles, items, and colors you would like. She studies your tastes diligently. It also helps she has dozens and dozens of little informants who also know your tastes. If she notices you seem overworked she books you a luxurious spa session. If she notices you’re a bit insecure them she’ll make it a point to hold you and kiss each curve and crevice of your skin. She knows you don’t have extravagant tastes but you do like things of quality and meaning. And her gifts do have meaning. If you like knitting then she’ll purchase a set of the most soft and vibrant wool. If you like reading then she’ll keep an eye on exclusive or high demand books to get you. if you’re a artist then you can guarantee you’ll never be short on paints and ever work will be framed and displayed proudly.

Also in terms of gifts you are utterly spoiled not just by your husbandwifey but your kids. They bring you trinkets and souvenirs from across the world. Often based on things that remind them of you.

Arlecchino however is a busy woman. As a harbinger she deals with stressful situations and stressful meetings. And as her new bride you do have the expectation of tending to her. My advice is to simply let her lay her head on your shoulder or lap. Embrace her gently and don’t ask for details. More often then not she cannot tell you what exactly has happened but it’s usually frustration from dealing with the other harbingers. Usually the males. You’ve heard her grievances and slander of each male at this point. If you really want to help her relax then just smile softly and nod along. Your compliance and obedience is a well needed relief to her. Then tell her good news of the kids, how their skills have improved, etc.

When you’re upset on the other hand, maybe shaken up from a failed kidnapping/assassination attempt you can bet she’ll come to you quickly. She’s wiling to ditch a meeting if she thinks its that severe. Before she gets to you however, you can bet the kids will also comfort you. Often holding you and fiercely protecting you. When she gets there they leave to give you two privacy and to stand outside to make sure no one comes by. Upon which she will hold you tighter than you’re used to her. Her nails almost digging into your skin as she breathes heavily. She waits till you’re collected to ask for details and assures you the perpetrator will not be spared or shown a slight of mercy. All those involved will be hunted down and eliminated. Until then she will personally keep you by her side. With a voice surprisingly shakey, a sound only you will hear and ONLY you: she proclaims her utter devotion to you. She proclaims that she loves you in a soft voice. This softness and weakness is a rare sight, its only done to comfort you and when she’s quite alarmed herself.

#genshin imagines #genshin x y/n #mild yandere themes #arlecchino x you #arlechinno genshin #knave genshin #the knave #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x y/n #arlecchino #arlecchino is so hot please step on me #domestic fluff #could possibly become outdated or ooc the more is revealed about her #but shhhhhhh #:3

[munsonbrackets]

I would love a part two to the undying reader if you are ever up to it, maybe Astarion’s reaction to finding out who the reader really is <33

I feel like Astarion would remember you. Over the years however, the many faces of everyone else he had sent to Cazador had blurred yours. Except for that look you gave. That invulnerability you gave everyone. Or maybe you just gave it to him.

But Astarion knew, realized more like it, when you smiled at him.

(On a side note, I found out that vampires, according to the rules of dnd, don't breathe cannonically.)

Astarion was talking about Cazador, some more experiences he had had with him. You supplied some of your own stories, Astarion was outright surprised at how many stories of his you could meet given his age.

But there was one story. The same exact story you had told in the bar. You don’t even know if it was because of the details, or if you simply forgot this was the story.

But you talked about getting your wings stripped from you. Figuratively, to an extent at least. You talked on and on about getting caged, imprisoned, being stuck behind plastic bars that burned hot when you tried to pry on them. You talked about feeling lost for a while. Like a raven whose wings had been clipped by the same person who had the key to the cage.

And you looked so…gone. Astarion could tell, he had been there. He had heard something similar from another-

Astarion had heard it from someone else. The same story. From the bar, all those years ago. His realization only settled harder in his mind when you gave that smile to him. You talked about being free, your eyes made him feel invulnerable again, but your smile looked somber, as though you were trying to make light of the situation.

“Are you all right? I know it’s a little somber, but it’s not like I’m in it anymore.” You gave a reassuring shrug, but your entire face was worried. Not about yourself, not about the situation you were in. You were worried about Astarion.

You were worried about his furrowed brows, the slight uplift on one side of his mouth, his shocked eyes. You were worried about the way his eyes seemed to stare right through you.

Astarion took a deep breath, he had not even realized he was holding his own. He didn’t even need air, but the breath he took was so incredibly reassuring. Because he was not in the bar, he had not been released from a coffin mere 20 days prior. He did not have to scream until his voice gave out, because his lungs never would.

Astarion disregarded your expression, his face direction towards the ground.

“You’re him, aren’t you?”

You tilted your head in utter confusion.

“I- what? Astarion, are you okay?-”

“You’re him. From the bar. Aren’t you?” Astarion swallowed harshly and looked back at you. A mix of fury, betrayal and relief etched onto his face. You could not find the words, every thought you had simultaneously combusted and became faster, stronger, more prominent.

“All those years ago. You’re him. The man I met at the bar, the man I turned over to Cazador, the man that told me the story of getting his wings clipped and thrown in a cage. The man that made me feel infinite!”

“You are infinite! You have the endless stars locked away in your eyes! Your smile hides the universe!”

You yelled back, both of you now standing, facing each other. The others were bound to come running eventually.

“THEN WHY? You know what I have endured! So why lie to me! To punish me?! Is this some form of revenge for you!?”

Astarion yelled, his mind made his lungs burn as a reminder. A reminder of the coffin, a reminder of every face that Cazador had gotten from him.

You tried to touch Astarion, give him a reassuring hand on his shoulder, maybe pull him in for a hug. You couldn’t even tell yourself. Which might have been for the better as he slapped your hand away. You contracted your hand back to yourself.

“I forgave you. A long time ago. Before the nautiloid, before Cazador. I forgave you.”

You muttered out, hearing Karlach’s engine popping as her and the others got closer.

“JUST LIKE THAT?” Astarion gestured wildly. His hands flinging up, a doubting expression and that same anger.

“YOU JUST FORGAVE ME? FOR SENDING YOU TO HIM? IT’S NEVER TH-”

A sob reeked through him. His knees gave out and he collapsed onto them on the ground. 

“It’s never that easy.”

Another sob and the tears started streaming down his face.

You were right there, following him to the ground. Gently cupping his face in your hands.

“It is. It is that easy. You make it easy. And I’m so sorry no one was ever selfless enough to teach you that.”

You felt the warm tears on your own skin. You stopped feeling the tension from everyone else, they might not know the full story, but they heard enough.

“I don’t make people feel invulnerable. I can’t do that. I can only show them what I see. And you are infinite in every way possible, Astarion.”

Astarion hands moved from lying limp on his thighs, to grabbing your shirt at the waist. Your hands moved from his face to crossing over on his shoulder, bringing him in for a hug. He let you. His own hands moving around your back.

“I'm so sorry. I should have told you I was him. That I am him. I should have told you everything. That I forgave you on the steps of the Szarr palace. That Cazador couldn’t turn me. Everything.”

You heard his sobs slowly subside and you felt his lips twitch into a smile, just slightly.

He gently pulled you away from each other.

“What do you mean he couldn’t turn you?”

“I- uh- can’t die? At least permanently?”

And there was something about your words, maybe your face, that made Astarion burst into laughter. You felt a smile tug at your lips just before laughing at yourself. You must have looked so befuddled. How does one even explain something like that?

You both eventually got up, arms swung over the others shoulders. The stars back in his eyes as you turned to face everyone else. A very mixed bag, to say the least. Gobsmacked, confused, delighted that there was not a fight breaking out.

“You can’t die? That is something I will have to ask Elminster about.”

Gale said. You knew he would never find the answers. But the determination in his voice, mixed with confusion, made you crumble to the ground laughing.

A short moment of silence, except for your laughter echoing through the forest, went by. Then Astarion was right next to you, a howling laughter breaking out from him as well. You looked at each other. And through smiles and confused comments from Gale about your outbursts made you realize. This was the right place for you. For both of you, right next to each other.

#Astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x male reader #astarion x male tav #x male reader #fluff #bg3 #bg3 tav #bg3 astarion #male reader #he him his #bg3 x male reader #bg3 x male rav #vampire #baldurs gate 3 #mild bg3 spoilers #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x male #angst with a happy ending #angst #angst to comfort #angst to fluff #idk if i like this #might rewrite this at some point #it took a turn i wasn't expecting

[madamemachikonew]

DAWEI CONFIRMED NEUVILLETTE BEING SENSITIVE TO THE TASTE OF WATER IS CANON. I FUCKING PREDICTED IT!!

Go read Les Madeleines - Neuvillette x GN!Reader (SFW - Teen and above)

#neuvillette #genshin neuvillette #neuvillette genshin #neuvillette my beloved #genshin ao3 #genshin fanfic #fluff #mild angst #comfort #suitable for all #I love sad otter man #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x y/n #neuvillette x you #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n

[lakes-liver]

Legend has been acting very distinctly off, lately.

He’s not injured, Sky knows that much. There wasn’t a time where he’s been separated from the group. Something triggered him, perhaps? The veteran has more than enough baggage to sift through.

Sky really isn’t sure.

Legend hasn’t been the same since… about a week ago? Something of the sort? He’s been quieter, laughter not so loud, snarks not so present. If it were anyone else, Sky wouldn’t be concerned.

But this is Legend he’s talking about. Legend, who shows a prickly front but is soft on the inside. His facade isn’t prickly right now, though, more like a dull point.

Triggers don’t last that long, right? If they didn’t, he would be better by now, at least outwardly. Then again, Sky doesn’t know much (if anything at all) of the “shell-shock” the veteran, the captain, and even Time seem to describe. What he knows is limited, tales from an era long before Skyloft, when the world wasn’t so peaceful. So, maybe there’s a chance it can last this long?

This train of thought does not change the fact that there is still something wrong, and Sky is very much concerned.

Another day passes, and the Chosen Hero watches his friend. A multitude of notes show up.

One: no one else seems to have noticed the problem at hand.

Two: Legend is acting as he usually does (jabs, rolled eyes, etc.) around everyone in their group.

Third: the veteran is only acting oddly around Sky.

Now, this has raised a very important question in Sky’s mind. Did he do something wrong? While he’s never been one to hold silent grudges (except against the goddesses, of course), maybe Sky had done something to be an exception.

He mulls this over throughout the evening, as they set up camp. Physically, he’s busied by setting out his bedroll, as well as some of the others’. Mentally, though, he thinks, and thinks, and thinks.

If the veteran hadn’t been borderline ignoring him, Sky’s sure he’d make a quip about how he shouldn’t think so much.

“It must get difficult thinkin’ so hard, birdbrains,” he’d mock, and Sky would laugh, and all would be well.

But all is not well. And Sky is growing more nervous by the second.

He thinks over every interaction with Legend in the past week. Nothing stands out to him. It started normally, with pokes and jokes and smiles and giggles. Then, like a switch had been flipped, the pink-haired man had become strangely subdued.

Could it have something to do with that? The whole… pink-rabbit, thing? But that was months ago, and this was so much more recent.

“Sky? Ya ‘ere?” Fingers are being snapped in front of his face.

He jumps, looking into the marked face of Twilight. Sky hides it with a flush and a chuckle. “Yes! Sorry, got lost in my thoughts, there” — and here is where the birdbrain comments should go, yet none do — “what did you ask?”

Twi, ever the worrywart, frowns slightly. “I ‘as j’st askin’ ‘bout watch. Doubleshif’s, you an’ Ledge. But, if yer not up for it—”

“No!” Sky is fast to interrupt. “No worries! I’m alright, truly. That sounds wonderful.” He gives the most reassuring smile he can muster, and it’s honest and true, for once.

Twilight’s frown lifts, a bit, and the slightly older man nods and steps away towards Wild and Wind, who are still cooking dinner.

Watch with Legend, huh? Could this be his chance?

A small bit of him warns that things could go very, very, wrong.

Luckily, the bigger part of him tells him that if he doesn’t say anything now he will run out of time to say anything at all.

So, that is that. Watch is set—blech, the middle shift—and Sky walks over to the rest of his friends before he can think any more of the situation.

“Sky!” Wind waves. “Come sit by us!”

‘Us’, in this case, happens to be himself, Wild, and Twilight, none of whom he’s opposed to being near. Thus, he picks his way to a spot on a ground, settling next to Wind. The smaller melts into his side (a common occurrence), and Sky happily accepts a bowl of pumpkin soup.

It’s not the same as from his home, of course, but it’s still soup and there’s still pumpkins. He’s still satisfied by the taste.

“Thank you, Wild,” he says, setting the now-empty bowl beside him.

Wild grins crookedly. “‘Course, Sky, I’m glad you liked. Seconds?”

Sky shakes his head. “Not tonight.”

The sailor, on the other hand, shoots up, mouth completely stuffed. “‘ll take ‘is s’rv’in’!”

“Calm yerself, sailer, others gotta eat,” Twilight chides.

“Meanie.” Wind crosses his arms with a pout. Sky ruffles the top of his head, a fond look surely on his face, and the smaller does not shy away.

He spares a glance to Legend and Hyrule, across the fire. The former is staring, brows furrowed, but looks away as soon as he notices Sky’s gaze. The latter continues chattering away as if nothing happened (and, in their eyes, nothing did happen).

Overall, the fire is warm and his belly is full. His friends sit around him and talk and snort and sigh, contentment filling the air. Sure, they have double watches set up, the tension is high, and they are exhausted, but they are together and they are (physically) healthy. Sky could not ask for much more.

So, Sky turns in for the beginning of his rest. Wind is sprawled next to him, looking like the starfish they all claim to exist.

Three hours later, Time is shaking him awake.

“You’re up, Sky. Four’s already woken Legend,” he whispers.

Sky nods. This is a song they’ve danced to many times.

Seeing him up and aware, the oldest moves to his bedroll with a soft ‘goodnight’. The Skyloftian echoes it in turn, before advancing towards the dying embers and confusing veteran.

At first, the watch is normal. Sky watches one side whilst Legend watches the other. There isn’t much talking—there never is, on the second watch, what with tired eyes and restless heroes—but the bit that is remains light and regular. For a moment, he can almost forget the anxiety that’d been eating him away earlier.

Then, Sky makes a comment that shatters the glass around them.

“Oh c’mon, vet,” he rolls his eyes. “We both know you use those trinkets of yours quite often.”

The chuckle Legend gives sounds forced, and Sky is hit with a pang of guilt. It was meant as a simple jab—nothing more nor less—but it maybe it was too biting?

Sky takes the second to study Legend’s newfound stance. He’s hunched in on himself, hands hugging knees, and despite not being able to see his face, Sky can assume his expression is that of a resigned sort of scowl.

It’s the same reaction he’s seem many times on multiple others. Twilight when scolded by Time; Wild when scolded by Twi; Wind when scolded by Warriors; Hyrule when scolded by Legend. It is not a reaction he expected to receive from their veteran, let alone one to be stemmed from him.

It spikes a whole new pang of worry.

He turns back before Legend can catch his face. “Sorry, Ledge. I like your items a lot. It’s not a problem to use ‘em, you know.”

From the corner of his eye, he catches the tension release, just a little bit. Enough, though, to know he said the right thing. Good.

Legend doesn’t give a response besides a light bump of the shoulders. The watch continues in a not-quite-awkward but not-quite-comfortable silence.

Creeeeak.

Sky’s head is up in an instant, scanning and pausing and reviewing the treeline in front of him. His ears twitch and try to catch every little thing, from the scamper of a mouse to the rustle of the wind. He’s certain Legend is doing the same, on his end.

A beat passes. Two. Three.

Legend’s breath hitches. “Bokoblin. One o’ Wild’s, reckon.”

“The others?” Sky whispers, voice barely making a sound.

“No. It’s just one. On three?”

Sky nods.

One beat. Two.

“Three!” Legend hisses.

Sky springs up, Master Sword poised to strike and shield up to block. Legend follows in a similar manner, clutching the Tempered Sword and some sort of shield. The ‘blin barely reacts before Sky is moving, moving, moving, slashing at the beast with a ferocity he didn’t realize he possessed this late at night.

The monster bleeds black.

Legend notices too, and lets out a soft string of curses before he’s in on the action. They trade blows, one then the other then both at the same time.

The bokoblin does not back down. It swings its own sword at their ankles, then their waists, then their heads. Wide arcs that make it near impossible to get in, despite the fact that the odds are two to one.

Legend pushes and knocks it off balance, and Sky seizes his chance. He steps into the circle, sword going faster than a blink, and stabs through the head. The Master Sword glints on the other side. The beast dissolves into nothing save a gem and some guts.

Sky lets out a cheer and turns to Legend.

Who’s eyes, suspiciously, are blown wide with fear. Did he get hurt? Had Sky missed something during the heat of the battle?

He stumbles forward—wait, stumbles? Sky shouldn’t be stumbling, he didn’t get hurt, just look down—oh. That’s blood. On his tunic. On his stomach.

Shit.

Pain erupts from the area, stabbing and scorching and hot in a way it really should not be, not on a fresh wound, not unless it’s infected—

“Sky? Sky! Stay with me, hero, stay with me.” Legend is frantic and holding his shoulders, lowering him carefully to the ground. Why is he so panicked? It’s not that bad, right?

Another shot of pain rocks his body, and he bites back a scream with practiced expertise.

Nevermind, it is definitely that bad.

Still, though, Legend is upset, and he can’t have that. Legend shouldn’t be upset, not because of him.

“I’m okay,” he gasps. “‘m fine, Ledge, just needa—” a coughing fit fights its way out and he cant stop it.

“You ain’t fine, you needa potion or sum. Hold on fer me, ‘kay? Hold on, ‘ll get Roolie or, or,” Legend stops, stares, and then darts up and away. Sky frowns, because Legend is still stressed and he can tell because his accent is loose and free and that is not something he often does.

He holds on for as long as he can, though. He can hear shouts and people getting up and running and since when did they get so far? What’s even happening? Is someone hurt?

Ow. Right. Sky is hurt.

His stomach doesn’t feel so good. It feels sticky and hot and gross and bad and he doesn’t like it. Maybe a nap will help? Naps usually help when he’s tired, they always have. Maybe he should nap.

Just as his eyes start to fall shut, someone shakes him, yelling and shaking and yelling and shaking. Bright, violet, eyes meet dull sky blue, panicked and calm and panicked and calm and ow ow ow everything hurts so bad.

The violet eyes have a mouth attached, and it keeps opening and closing but he can’t hear anything. Should he be hearing something?

Something cold presses against his stomach and he hisses. It keeps going, pushing and pushing, but the cold becomes warm and soft and comfortable. Sky could nap, like this.

Despite his eyes fluttering shut, someone grabbed and shook him, yet again. He really wishes they’d stop, he’s trying to nap here!

“—descendant!” They say.

…What?

Now significantly more interested, Sky strains his ears to listen closer. Oh, cool, the warm-yet-cold hands gave some of his hearing back. That’s nice.

“I’m—or—dant!”

They’re… huh?

“I’m royal!”

The Chosen Hero blinks. Once, twice, three times. His vision is so blurry he can’t make anything out besides those glaring eyes and disheveled hair.

The pain is subsiding, a little bit, so that’s neat.

What did they mean… royal?

Oh. Oh! Wait! Him and Sun start the royal bloodline of Hyrule, don’t they? This person could be referring to that! Is it a Zelda? Did one of the other Zeldas come? They’re so sweet, all those young women, and it triggers something in him that’s quite enjoyable. Maybe, once this pain quiets down, he can talk to them? That’d be just wonderful.

He closes his eyes again, humming in contentment when the unknown Zelda doesn’t shake him back. The sharp and burning and horrible ache is nothing more than annoying, now, and he’s slept much worse than this. He falls unconscious, unaware to the trembling hero next to him.

What could be minutes or hours or even days later, Sky opens his eyes again. It’s dark out, and stars shine brightly up above. Trees dot the outline of his vision.

He tries to sit up. His lower abdomen protests vehemently, and he has to abandon such efforts. Something between a groan and whine escaped him, despite his feeble attempts to swallow it whole.

“Sky?” Someone asks. “Sky! You’re awake!”

He looks towards the voice, and is pleasantly surprised to see Legend. He made it out of the fight! There’s no visible bandages, or splints, or anything but concerned eyes and a soft face.

Sky musters up the best smile he can. “I’m okay, Ledge.” He pushes up again, and this time makes it as far as propping his weight onto his elbows. His stomach screams, but he’s alright, truly.

“You damn better be,” the vet mutters, but he helps push the chosen hero up the rest of the way. Sky nods his thanks, before scanning their camp.

It’s still the same place they were last time. A small grove in the middle of uncharted woods, somewhere so random that no one knows who’s Hyrule it is or even if it is anyones. There are six sleeping forms and the outline of Wolfie.

There is no Zelda. He distinctly remembers a Zelda being there, after he was injured. Did she leave? He wanted to talk to her.

“Where did she go?” Sky asks, frowning. That’s unfortunate.

Legend raises an eyebrow. “Who?”

“Zelda,” he says, like it’s obvious. “She was here whenever… I got hurt, I guess.”

“Sky,” Legend looks very confused. “There wasn’t ever anyone’s Zelda here. Why would you think so?”

His words are thought out, slower, deeper than the mess he’d been when Sky was injured. That’s good, it means the vet has had time to breathe and calm down since then.

“There wasn’t? But someone mentioned being of royal descent, did they not?” Had he made that entire conversation up? Something of delusion built from blood loss and poison?

Legend’s expression freezes; a blush creeps across his ears. “You, uh, you heard that?”

“Yes?” How could he not? They were shaking and shouting, for Hylia’s sake!

“Oh.”

Sky is growing quickly more confused, and concerned, and he remembers why he was so nervous around Ledge in the first place. Something was wrong—no, something is wrong—and he wants to figure it out.

“Legend? Did something happen? Are you alright?”

The veteran shakes his head. “You got stabbed, Chosen. Scared the hell outta us.”

But that doesn’t answer about the past week or the mysterious person who he’s very very certain said they were related to him.

“I’m sorry,” he starts. Before the other can object, Sky continues. “What about the Zelda, though? Or whoever it was? Someone said they were my descendant, I thought.”

Legend looks anywhere but at Sky’s face. It’s very suspicious. “That, uh, that doesn’t matter. You need rest.”

Sky uses his own arms to keep him up, despite the insistence of the pink-haired hero to get him to lay back down. The more lucid he is, the less the pain matters. It’s nothing, now. He’s done more on less.

“No, wait, Ledge—”

“It was me,” he whispers, and it’s as quick as the pegasus boots he loves so much.

“Hm?”

Legend flushes, continuing to look away. “It was, uh. It was me. I’m your…” he trails off into something incoherent.

Sky raises an inquisitive brow.

“Don’t make me say it,” Legend scowls.

“Say what?”

“You know what!” And Sky really does. He wants to hear Legend admit it for himself, though.

“Stab wound,” he deadpans instead.

Legend huffs and pouts and crosses his arms, scowl deepening, then softening, then deepening again.

A beat passes. No one stirs except for the two exhausted heroes.

“Fable—my Zelda—she’s my sister. I’m the Prince of Hyrule, technically.” Legend brings his knees up to his chest and hugs them, eyes downcast, stance tense and so similar to how it was by the fire, that night.

Everything clicks into place very neatly.

Legend is not upset with Sky. He is worried about Sky, worried he’s been a disappointment, worried that he’s somehow made a mistake. So he cut back on snarks and rolled eyes, on cocked hips and wide gestures, replaced it with something subdued and a (quite frankly horrid) attempt at being something different.

“Can I hug you?” Sky asks, because it’s the only thing he can think of saying.

The veteran—the teenager, really—all but jumps. But, exactly as he hoped he would, the boy uncurls himself just enough to nod and accept the arms barrelling into him.

Sky represses a gasp (ow ow ow, next time, do not fall into someone’s arms with a scabbed stab wound, good Hylia), and squeezes tight, pouring every ounce of care he can in. This is his descendant, his kid, and it’s such a rush of emotions he’s surely going to have to process later but for right now Legend slots perfectly into his arms and all is well.

“You’re not… you’re not mad?” The boy rasps.

Sky uses one hand to comb through unruly hair. Jeez, did this kid brush it at all while he was unconscious? He’s going to have to use the recently acquired dad-card to fix that.

“Why’d I be mad, Ledge?”

From where he’s pressed the other against his chest (how did he never realize Legend was so small? Has he seriously never hugged him before?), Sky can’t see the expression he’s making. He can well assume, though, that’s something along the lines of furrowed brows and pressed lips, confusion evident with a hint of something else.

“Why wouldn’t you be?” Legend finally decides on, and Sky almost laughs at how absurd the question is.

He pulls back to look the boy in the eyes. “Legend, you are a wonderful person who has done wonderous things. You have faced atrocities that no person should, and come out stronger, better, and you have done it again and again, because you care for people less fortunate than you.” His descendant’s eyes are blown wide, wide, wide, and the deep black spots are all the more obvious; no wonder he’s so open, right now, there is not a single ounce of sleep in that body. “I know I haven’t known you long, but I am so proud of you regardless, Legend, and I have no words for how happy I am that I am somehow related to you.”

Violet eyes stare into sky blue, expression lax in a way Sky has not seen before, details in the starlight that are old to one but new to the other.

Sky is hit with the fact that he has never looked at the veteran before this. Not hard enough to point out the little things, like the freckles or light scars or baby hairs.

“Oh,” Legend murmurs, casting his gaze downwards and caving in on his own body a bit more. “Okay.”

“Legend,” eyes flick up once more, “I’m being genuine.”

“I know.” A long pause. “I know, it’s just not that simple, I guess. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, Ledge.”

Legend’s eyes go wide, wide, wide, once more. “The others can’t know I’m Fable’s brother.”

That is definitely something Sky is going to address at a later date.

For now, he hopes that the glint his eyes get is mischievous and his smirk comes across correctly. “Exactly.”

Legend does not look convinced.

“We’ll be like Twi and the champion were, for a while. Imagine how pissed Wars an’ Wind’ll be trying to figure it out,” Sky says, because while he’s seen hell he’s still just barely twenty and the epitome of a little shit.

(Holy Hylia, he’s going to have to address that later. How do Twilight and Wild do this all day? They’re barely a few years apart!)

Legend stares at him, and then lets out a cackle of a laugh. Real and honest, all because of Sky, and hope blooms in his chest. The other is undoubtedly the hardest nut to crack and Sky is finally getting through, after months of work.

Soon, he starts laughing too. He can’t help it! The vet’s laugh is so contagious, and he’s rocking back on his knees, and Sky is wheezing, and they’re both definitely delirious.

They’re also a bit too loud, because even as their giggles subside, the other Links begin stirring. Hyrule first, the lightest sleeper by far, but Wind and Wild and Wars follow not long after. The chain wake to two grinning brothers, and while they don’t understand it, they’re joining in as well.

Sky’s stomach hurts like a bitch, which is not a word he uses lightly, but he feels happy in an odd sense. A lot has happened—too much—but he can ignore it in favor of a good laugh with his brothers.

#linked universe #linked universe fanfic #linked universe sky #linked universe legend #lu sky #lu legend #fanfic #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #posted on ao3 #fluff #lu fluff #lu mild hurt/comfort #lu sky pov #lu twilight’s accent #it gets its own tag #rest of the chain is there #but they dont have massive roles #first lu fic btw so. yknow. grains of salt. #enjoy

[jazessimpcave]

💋Kisses with Mr.Villain💋

🐼 Never in public, unless it's a cheek kiss

🐼 He loves kissing your hand when you place it near his face

🐼 The first kiss with him is clumsy and he accidentally bites your lip (if you like it, let him know)

🐼 Once he understands how kissing works for humans, he wants to give you one every time he comes home to you.

🐼 His soft kisses are like pillows, he breathes lightly, his heart rate is steady and he keeps his hair in his face. No tongues, but he pulls your waist toward him so he can keep you close. (Remind him to let you breathe)

🐼 His more intense kisses are just that. Intense. You never realize how long his tongue is until it's deep in your mouth. He's breathing heavily, enjoying your reactions and pushes you down on the couch. His hands are either on the small of your back or on either side of you while his chest keeps you pinned. You may hear whimpers or growls, and more of his true form may emerge if you rile him up. He stops before it escalates 😶

🐼 Neck kisses are his favorite, so he'll bend down and indirectly ask you to do it.

🐼 Don't bite him on any place you kiss without letting him know you're about to do it. He bites back as an impulse and it hurts, unless...that's your thing 😉

🐼 Goodnight kisses aren't mandatory, but he will nuzzle you and headbutt you if he really wants one.

🐼 Unless you ask for them, he won't give you surprise kisses. All of them must have a purpose. However there may be a rare moment when he does do it out of nowhere.

#mr villain x reader #mr villain's day off #fluff headcanons #mild spice #kissing headcanons

[g1rld1ary]

tell me when you're sober ; sirius black x gn!gryffindor!reader

➻ yayay my first sirius fic !!

➻ word count: 2042

➻ synopsis: drunk at a house party, sirius calls the reader and confesses something he shouldn't have

➻ warnings: mentions of alcohol & being drunk, swearing, a little angst (maybe??), happy ending, kissing, gn pronouns (lmk if I've missed any!)

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

You were lying on your bed at home, content with your cozy night in. The newest Ella Fitzgerald record playing softly from the corner; a candle burning on your nightstand. You’d completed an extensive self care routine, feeling fresh, healthy and calm as you settled into your newest novel — a romance that had you dreaming of one of your closest friends.

Sirius Black was one of your best friends in the whole world. Both being Gryffindors, you had pretty much grown up together, and somewhere along the way you’d developed feelings for him against your will. But how could you not? He was beautiful, charming, and always managed to make you laugh; even the longest nights studying in the common room weren’t quite as tedious when he was hanging around — as much as you’d complain about him ‘bothering’ you. Whilst you knew he wouldn’t ever reciprocate your feelings and you would remain just friends, you were mostly content with that fact. You were filled with the type of love for him that was somewhat satisfied as long as you could express it, regardless of if it was under the guise of platonic affection. Still, that resignation didn’t stop you from imagining Sirius as the love interest in the novels you read; reciting poetry and executing grand gestures in your head.

The phone ringing down the hall brought you from your daze, and you tried to focus on the words written on the page until your mother knocked on your bedroom door, saying the call was for you. Curiously, you crawled out of bed, straightening your pyjamas as you hurried to the phone attached to the wall just outside of the kitchen.

“Hello?” You didn’t know what to expect, but your face softened to a smile when you heard the reply.

“My gorgeous y/n!” Sirius sang, consonants slightly slurred. You knew your friends were at a house party tonight, one that you’d politely declined despite Sirius’ insistence in you being there. It wasn’t your scene, and the group had organised a quieter games night at James’ place the night after, so you weren’t worried about missing too much.

“What are you doing, Black? Shouldn’t you be dancing on a table somewhere?” You teased, laughing lightly at the memory of one party you did attend, and the absolute fool Sirius had made of himself to Bennie and the Jets. He hummed in agreement.

“I was. But I wanted to talk to my favourite person — ‘ve missed you.”

“You’re seeing me tomorrow, Sirius. I’m sure you can hold on sixteen more hours?” You could practically see Sirius shaking his head no, childish pout on his lips. That was how you knew he was pretty drunk, he always got whiny and overly affectionate.

“But that’s with everyone, I miss you,” You both loved and hated when he flirted with you like this; you knew it was a joke but it still made you weak in the knees. “Tell me about your day.” You sighed, knowing that it was chatting to him or worrying about the dumb inebriated decisions he would no doubt make, so you started.

You gave him a run through of your day, sliding down the wall to be in a seated position as you realised it would probably be a long call. You told him about the summer deep clean you’d powered through and the subsequent self care night you had definitely earned. He listened intently, and you could occasionally hear him hum into the phone or interject with a one word response, just so you knew he was paying attention. You’d launched into a recap of your novel so far when you realised he hadn’t spoken in several minutes. Worrying he’d passed out or lost interest in your ramblings you tapered off.

“Sirius? You there?” He hummed an affirmation. “Oh. Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, ‘course. It’s just…” He trailed off and you frowned, holding the silence so he’d continue. “I love you.”

You sighed in relief. You two, and the rest of the friendship group, said ‘I love you’ all the time, it was never something to be apprehensive about.

“You know I love you too, Black. I’m still on the phone aren’t I?” You laughed, twirling the yellow cord around your freshly painted (but almost definitely dry) fingers. You heard him groan over the phone and faltered again.

“No, y/n. I’m fucking in love with you.”

You almost dropped the phone you were so surprised. You felt your heart beating against your chest, both in excitement and panic. He didn’t mean it, he couldn’t. Maybe Remus had broken his promise and told Sirius about your crush on him and this was all some kind of sick joke. Sirius Black was not in love with you — you had seen him grinding and making out with Marissa from the year above at the end of year party, and that was only a few weeks ago. All the possible joy that had crept into the edges of your heart was extinguished, and instead anger bloomed, spreading to the tips of your fingers, which brought the receiver back up to your face.

“Hang up and tell me when you’re sober.” With that you slammed the phone back on the wall, hot tears building behind your eyes, threatening to fall. You stumbled blindly back into your bedroom, both red hot rage and crushing sadness obscuring your vision.

Safely in bed, you let the tears fall. How dare he? You were the one who had pined after him for years, made peace with the fact that you would never hear those words out of his mouth for you, and for what? For him to rip out your heart because he was drunk and bored? Did he think it was funny? Did he even know what he was doing to you? You sobbed into the stuffed dog Sirius had given you for your last birthday, before the anger resurfaced and you launched it across the room, slamming your head into the pillow as the toy made a dull thud against the wall.

You almost didn’t go to James’ game night the next evening. You reasoned it would just be too humiliating, Sirius would crow about the girl he had hooked up with after you’d ended the call — or even worse make fun of you about the supposed confession. No, you were more than ready to call in sick and spend the night pitying yourself over a fat bowl of ice cream. However, when James called around midday begging you to bring your ‘world famous’ white chocolate brownies “And your sweet face, of course,” how could you refuse? And so you got dressed in your confidence outfit; pulling your hair into your favourite style. You needed all the help you could get today.

Standing in front of James’ door you sucked in a breath. Trying to put an easy smile on your face, it faltered when Sirius was the one to welcome you inside. He grinned when he saw you, which made the flicker of anger spark once more. How could he act like he didn’t just say he was in love with you?

“Hey everyone, y/n’s here!” He called, and you could the hear the stampede of footsteps as your friends all came out to greet you. Your smile returned involuntarily as Remus pulled you into a strong hug, which was copied by each of the girls. James, conversely, dropped to the floor in a position of worship as you presented the tray of brownies.

You all sat around the fire, chatting easily as James painstakingly set up the game of Monopoly in front of you.

“Man, I don’t remember a thing from last night,” Sirius said, reclining back in an armchair. Everyone laughed but you, and you fought with your brain to keep your features relaxed as you stared at him.

“Be grateful for that,” Lily laughed, counting out game money in piles. “You made an utter tool of yourself.”

“Yeah, rambling about Merlin knows what all bloody night; you were nonsensical,” Marlene teased and you cast your eyes down to study your fingers, picking at the already chipping polish. That’s why Sirius had acted like nothing was wrong, he didn’t even remember he’d said it. Only you were left with your whole world changed, and the bastard didn’t even have to suffer the memories of it. Suddenly you were overcome with the urge to take the beer Peter was offering you, downing half the bottle in two gulps.

“What’s got you all riled up, love?” Remus asked and you stuttered, unable of course to tell him the truth. Eyeing James’ finished set up you created a lie.

“Getting ready to dominate you all in Monopoly, duh.”

After that night, you couldn’t face Sirius. You weren’t avoiding him, per se, you could never do that. But you weren’t making any effort to see him, and you were proud of that self restraint. At dinners you’d sit next to your other friends, not looking at him unless he addressed you directly. Between classes you’d take off without waiting for him, claiming you were already stressed about the workload. Your friends could tell something was wrong, but no one could figure out what — seemingly not even Sirius.

Until one Friday night. It was unusually quiet, no parties planned or adventures to be had, and so you and your friends had taken over the Gryffindor common room, laughing and talking over the radio and the crackling of the fireplace.

“Firewhiskey, Pads?” James offered, but Sirius shook his head.

“Not tonight.” He smiled, sparing a casual glance to you. You weren’t looking at him, pretending to be engrossed in Lily’s conversation, but you couldn’t help but be slightly concerned. When did Sirius ever turn down a drink? Especially on a Friday night. You shook your head slightly, it wasn’t your problem anymore, you were still mad at him.

Eventually the night wound down, everyone heading back up to their respective dorm room one by one, tired out by the week. When you look up from the novel you’d been engrossed in for the past half hour, you were shocked by the fact that it was just you and Sirius left. Stranger than that was that Sirius wasn’t even doing anything, just staring blankly at the fire as his leg bounced aggressively.

You got up quickly, collecting your things in the attempt of a smooth escape. No such luck. Sirius stood to stop you and you stepped back carefully.

“What are you doing, Sirius?” You asked, forcefully avoiding his steely gaze.

“I’m in love with you.” You faltered, meeting his eyes to search for hidden meaning. You found none.

“What?”

“I’m in love with you, stupid. And I’m sure as hell sober right now, you can ask anyone.”

You felt your cheeks grow hot as you realised what all this meant. He had told the truth on that phone call and you had not only hung up on him, but also got mad and avoided him. Despite his feelings being more than reciprocated. The burning anger that had made a home in your stomach recently dissolved into butterflies, and a smile grew. Sirius relaxed as he saw your body language change, and chanced a tentative step towards you.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that,” Your eyes shone in the firelight and Sirius couldn’t help but pull you closer towards him, arms wrapped around your waist.

“I thought, I mean I was worried—” You cut him off by holding his cheeks in your palms, pressing a soft kiss on his lips, one which he hungrily chased. You laughed and indulged him, the two of you holding each other carefully, lips moving slowly, exploring the other.

“Just so we’re clear,” You teased, “I’m pretty in love with you too, Black.”

#giasfics˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ #the marauders #marauders #marauders era #dead gay wizards #james potter #the marauders era #sirius black #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black x reader #marauders fanfiction #sirius black fic #sirius black fluff #sirius black oneshot #sirius orion black #mild angst #fluff #love #harry potter #remus lupin #lily evans